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#like tinted with you and behind cut but those are less pressing for me
iguessitsjustme · 1 year
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Today is the day I'm gonna do it. I am going to finish all the BL that I haven't been able to finish because my brain wouldn't let me. I'm also going to finish the show I started last week and maybe start some shows
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nebulousbrainsoup · 6 months
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Always, For You.
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SUMMARY: For ages, you have taken care of the Crown Prince, helped him escape his worries and the stresses of soon bearing the throne. Tonight, he wants to take care of you. PAIRING: prince!seonghwa x fem!reader GENRE: smut, lil bit of fluff AU/TROPE: royal au, secret lovers/forbidden love WORD COUNT: 2.5k RATING: 18+ TAGS/WARNINGS: pet names (my love, darling, my prince), idiots in love, it's really emotional (but in a good way), not beta'd, probably questionable editing A/N: for @hwaightme || bai, my love, my soulmate, the seong to my joong and one of the kindest people i have ever had the pleasure of knowing; happiest of birthdays to you. thank you for the joy you bring into the lives of others. thank you for being the sweet soul you are. and thank you, eternally, for indulging and encouraging my chaos and bullshit at every possible turn and for going very rapidly from "admired favorite author" to "chaos mutual" to "dear friend". this blog would not be what it is without you, and i cannot thank you enough. much love, and happy birthday <3 smut tags under the cut ; divs from @cafekitsune masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?
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SMUT TAGS/WARNINGS: momentary dom/sub tones, they're both switches, oral (fem recieving), seonghwa's tongue, pet names (good boy, my prince), no protection (don't do it)
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The chill of the approaching winter permeated the air around you, piercing through the thin material of your night dress. Your cheeks surely had a rosy, wind-kissed tint to them, and you could feel the skin of your lower lip chapping as you gnawed at it. The minutes were dragging on like hours as you waited, ever patient, for your lover to emerge from the darkness of the palace gardens. He was not infrequently late; being the prince, he had many responsibilities to take care of before seeing you—but rarely had the sky been dark for so long before his arrival. A shiver coursed through you and you brought your numbing fingers to your lips, breathing warmth back into them.
Your time together was precious and so very limited. You would wait. He had never betrayed your trust before, and he would not do so tonight.
After what may have been hours, quick, light footsteps approached your perch on the same bench you perched on every week, unmistakable as anyone other than the man you awaited. He looked flustered already when he turned the corner, cheeks flushed pink from the brisk night, and he sighed in relief when his gaze fell upon you. You smiled, less warmth and more mischief behind yours, as your mind ran wild at the sight of him.
He was in front of you in two long strides, bowing to press his lips to your knuckles as you rose to your feet. His cloak wound its way around your shoulders, an apology in his sweet brown eyes as he took you in.
“Y/N,” he sighed, breathless, “you waited.”
“Seonghwa,” you smiled, reaching up with your free hand to close the cloak around your shoulders, “you came.”
It was a silly ritual, really, one you would deny if another ever discovered it. You had long since stopped scolding the prince for his whispered apologies at his frequent tardiness, settling instead on a compromise. His greeting, an apology, and yours, a soft abatement of his nerves. You would wait until the end of time for your prince charming.
“You’re near-frozen,” he hummed, clasping your hand between both of his to warm it.
“I’m alright,” you replied, smiling warmly as those wide eyes begged once more for the forgiveness you readily offered. “You made it, my love, that is what matters.”
He beamed, the stars dancing in his eyes as he straightened up. “I have somewhere warm for us tonight, if you would allow me the honor of your company.”
Ever the gentleman, Seonghwa released your hand, offering instead his arm. “The honor would be all mine, Your Highness.” You looped your arm through his, giggling to yourself as his ears turned pink. 
You would go anywhere he desired of you.
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The one-room cottage you found yourself in was quaint and cozy, a small fire already burning in the hearth when your lover opened the door for you. Grinning once more, you curtsied before you stepped over the threshold, sighing as the warmth in the cottage sank into your bones. Something undefinable tugged at your heart as your eyes roamed the space, noting the small bed pushed into a corner, the lingering scent of dust in the air and—as the centerpiece of Seonghwa’s evening work—-a cozy-looking nest of pillows, cushions and blankets nestled squarely in front of the fire. Huffing out a happy, breathless laugh, you turned back to find him observing you, a coy smile on his face. 
“How did you manage this?”
“I nearly didn’t,” he admitted, stepping properly into the space and admiring his handiwork. “Autumn has been shorter than I anticipated. It was my intention to have this place for us before the first freeze, but I’m afraid I didn’t quite reach that goal.” 
His eyes had drifted to the floor as he turned back to you. Quietly, you closed the space, cupping his jaw to guide his eyes back to your own. “It’s perfect, Hwa. Thank you.” 
The smile that spread across his face warmed you more than the crackling fire. “Anything for you, dearest.”
His eyes darted to your lips as he spoke, and you smiled, once again rolling the bottom one between your teeth. You could feel the way his pulse ticked up under your fingers, and warmth spread through your body. It was a beautiful thing, to be so wanted.
“Anything?” you breathed, barely audible. Still, he nodded. “Then make love to me, my prince.”
He needed no more direction, sealing his lips over your own and pulling you flush against him. A pleased hum passed between your lips at his blatant need, his grip on your waist firm. You sighed into the kiss, arms draping over his shoulders and fingers carding into his hair. With one soft tug, he was melting in your arms, a breathy groan leaving him as you guided him away from you and gestured to the nest he had made.
“Take your boots off and kneel, darling,” you directed, a warm smile still etched onto your features.
Seonghwa was enamored with you, his doe eyes shining as he nodded eagerly and rushed to follow your instructions. Your heart fluttered once again as you watched him obey, slipping your own shoes off and slowly making your way to the fireplace to carefully hang his cloak next to it. When you turned back to him, he was watching you with a steady, half-lidded gaze, hands obediently splayed on his thighs.
You beamed, stepping into the ring of coziness and kneeling in front of him, catching his chin to pull him in for another brief kiss. “There’s my good boy.”
You both heard and felt his breath catch, as he preened at the praise, leaning into your touch. “Always for you, all for you,” he hummed, eyes flickering over your face.
You observed him carefully for a moment, eyes narrowing as his gaze remained sharp, reading you as you were reading him. Many nights, all it took was a single direction and a bit of praise and you had the prince eating out of the palm of your hand. Tonight, though, you could see something different in his gaze—something curious and questioning.
“You’re thinking again,” you murmured, fingers tracing back up his jaw to card into his hair. “This is meant to stop that.”
“It’s not bad, this time,” he hummed, hands leaving his thighs to ghost up your sides. You barely held back a pleasant shiver, raising an eyebrow at both his statement and his bold move. “Let me take care of you tonight,” he muttered, gaze meeting yours once more, “Let me do for you what you do for me.” He shifted from his position, kneeling up to loom over you, and you felt your stomach flip. “Let me worship every inch of your body and treat you tonight like the queen I will one day make you.”
All of your usual bravado was gone, the persona you had so carefully built for your encounters with Seonghwa ripped to shreds with a few pretty words. You heaved a shaky, breathless sigh and nodded. “Yes.”
His lips met yours once more the instant the word left your mouth, hands wrapping firmly around your torso. You pressed yourself against him until every possible inch of your body was flush with his own, grip firm in his hair and on his shoulder. Slowly, gently, he shifted, laying you back into the bed he had made for you as though you would shatter. His hands roamed over you, his touch feather-light as he explored your body. For the first time in your memory with Seonghwa, you were the first to break the kiss. You parted from him with a gasp and a heady whine, grip tightening against his scalp as he took the opportunity to trail kisses down your neck. As his lips worked lower, his hands slipped higher, sneaking under the thin cotton of your night dress to slide up your thighs. You sighed, pleased, and felt him moan against your collar bone as he found your ass bare. His eyes flickered up to your own, pleading with you, and you grinned. Perhaps tonight would not be so different, after all.
You had a special, particular relationship with the Crown Prince. Never in your memory had he taken control of you in any aspect; you were always the one to take care of him. His daily duties weighed upon him heavily; any courtesan or servant with a working set of eyes and a brain could see that. One passing comment about helping His Highness get out of his head and he had begun sending you missives, calling for you to meet him in the gardens after sundown. You could remember the first night you spent with him as though it were yesterday, little more than a conversation and a chaste kiss shared between the two of you. Oh, how beautifully had he blossomed.
Now, there was no rosy coloring to the tips of his ears as he lifted you from the makeshift mattress and tugged your night dress over your head, dropping it carelessly to the side. Now, the eyes that once looked at you with trepidation and abashment burned into you hungrily as his lips reattached to your skin at the earliest opportunity. You whined in protest as you were left bare to him, an unfamiliar sound that had him halting in his tracks for only a moment before his mind registered your shaking hands, tugging frantically at the buttons on his uniform coat. He chuckled quietly, sitting back on his heels to do the work for you.
“I never thought you would let me have you like this,” he admitted, a sheepish smile gracing his delicate features. “Thank you.”
His pause was long enough for you to take a deep breath and gather yourself just enough to smirk at him, the hand still on him tracing lower to press against his arousal. “I know you’ll make it worth my while, won’t you, my prince?”
Your words seemed to douse the flames behind his eyes in kerosene, his jaw tensing as he stripped his upper half with more urgency. “I will make tonight worth every minute you have ever waited for me.” 
Within seconds, his coat had been stripped away and his undershirt quickly followed, each finding their way to the floor. He dropped just as rapidly to settle his face between your thighs, pupils lust-blown as he glanced up at you. For the first time since you had begun this relationship, he asked for no permission before pressing his tongue against your core and lapping a fat stripe up it. The moan that ripped from your throat at the combined sensation and unfamiliar position had him humming happily against you, eyes slipping shut in bliss as he began to work you over. Seonghwa could die happily between your thighs, he thought. There was something intoxicating about your scent, your taste, and each time he found himself in this position, it took every bit of his willpower not to stay there the whole night. 
Tonight, though, he could do just that.
His moans buzzed through you pleasantly and your hands once again anchored themselves in his hair, grounding you against the onslaught of pleasure as that devilishly talented tongue of his fucked into you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his lips and chin as he lapped and sucked at your clit, interspersing the intense waves of pleasure with the kinder, gentler sensation of dipping into your entrance. You sighed and squirmed under his attention, fingers tugging gently at his scalp in encouragement. He was practically purring as he drank you in eagerly, lust-drunk gaze locked onto your expression while your legs closed tighter around his head. Within mere minutes, you were falling over the peak of your orgasm, grip vice-like in Seonghwa’s hair as you held him still—though, if his moans were any indication, he wouldn’t move if he could.
That sinful, skilled tongue laved at you until you were a whimpering mess, palm pressing against his forehead to nudge him away as overstimulation began to take hold. He gasped for breath as he relented, turning his head to press a soft kiss to the inside of each of your thighs. Your chest heaved as your eyes blinked open, a fresh wave of arousal making you shudder at the dark, hungry gaze fixed on you.
“I could die happily between your legs,” he muttered, voice hoarse and laden with arousal.
“Seonghwa,” you sighed, reaching forward to drag him into a messy kiss. The taste of your arousal lingered on his tongue, now sliding between your lips the same way it had parted your folds. Gripping his hair tighter, you reluctantly dragged him back, taking a shaky breath to steady yourself. “I need you.” 
Your plea came out breathless, saturated in need and, when paired with your nails dragging over the front of his pants, it was impossible for your lover to misunderstand it. It was his turn to breathe a shaky exhale, gentle hands pressing you back into the now disheveled nest until he could rise to his knees. You watched him carefully, an appreciative half-smile stuck on your face as he rid himself of the rest of his clothes. He was beautiful in every situation, in every light, but tonight, with the dancing firelight bathing him in gold and casting twisting patterns over his skin, he was a work of art that should be immortalized in a gallery. 
The warmth of the fire when combined with his body heat was overwhelming in the best way, just the right side of suffocating to push all other thoughts from your mind. He captured your lips firmly as he once more caged you in, filling you perfectly as your hips met. Pleased sounds left your lips in unison when he began to move; strong, slow rolls of his hips that had you arching up into him. Little time passed before your kiss dissolved into nothing more than panting against each other’s mouths, and you fell back to the ground, content to lock your eyes instead of your lips. His intensity had you short of breath; this ethereal man, the Crown Prince, was looking down at you as though you had hung the stars in the sky. 
With a tight, high whine, your second high of the night crashed into you, fingers tightening in his hair again. Your shared gaze did not break as he quickly followed you over his own peak, his mouth dropping open and brows creasing in pleasure.
When you both came back down to earth, neither of you let the other go, bodies tired and satiated, the warmth of the fire lulling you both into a sleepy state. Your time together would be cut short soon, you knew, but you let yourself bask in peace for now. 
His whisper cut through the quiet like thunder, “One day, I will have you. My promises are not empty. I will move mountains to have you by my side. I will do anything, my love.”
You could hear the tension in his voice, the tears gathering at his water line. Shifting up, you pressed your lips to his to silence him. “Will you stay, then?”
He smiled, the dying flames beside you dancing in his eyes. “Always, for you.”
In the aftermath, wrapped soundly in his arms, you let yourself believe.
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© November 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. reposting and translating of author’s work is prohibited.
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ptergwen · 3 years
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smoke and mirrors
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⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠
w/c: 4.1k
warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut
summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him
a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x
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your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.
weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?
the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.
it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.
as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.
your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.
you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.
tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.
what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.
“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.
“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.
“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.
the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.
tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.
“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it. 
weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.
smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.
harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.
“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.
“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.
hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.
you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.
tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.
harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.
“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.
“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.
“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”
it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.
“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.
“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”
“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”
the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”
you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.
“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”
you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.
“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.
you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.
you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.
“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.
“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.
she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.
frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.
“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.
you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.
tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.
when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”
you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”
you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.
you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions. 
tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.
“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.
you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.
following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.
you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.
“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.
his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.
“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”
a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”
tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”
that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.
tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.
you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.
“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.
a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”
he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.
“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.
“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.
“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”
tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”
“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”
“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”
tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.
it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.
“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.
“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.
“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.
“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”
480 notes · View notes
realcube · 3 years
Text
msby boys finding out their s/o is pregnant
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navi | masterlist | taglist  
thank you to anon for this wholesome request 
content warning ♡ pregnant! reader, sexual references, swearing & fluff
characters ♡ sakusa, atsumu, bokuto & hinata
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kiyoomi sakusa 
♡ he faltered
♡ there was half a minute of silence between the two of you; him just staring at your stomach while you gazed into his eyes
♡ he was almost certain that he misheard you, so he felt inclined to inquire, ‘huh?’ as indifferently as he could, though he wasn’t doing a good job of concealing the shocked expression on his face 
♡ ‘i said i’m pregnant, sweetie.’ you giggled, admiring the emotions he displayed on his face as it wasn’t a sight you got to see often
♡ sakusa continued to stare at you, eyes wide 
♡ though he knew what you meant, apart of him insisted that he was mishearing you 
♡ his wide-eyes were fixated on you, his lips slightly agape as he tried to process what you just said and what this meant for the both of you 
♡ the only emotion you could read of his face was shock. at first, you were sure that he was happy but he was just taking a while to accept it, but now that a few minutes had passed and he was still yet to say anything or even smile, you were starting to second guess yourself
♡ despite the fact sakusa had already agreed that he was on board with the idea of having a child many times before - in fact, there were nights where he’d admit that he can’t wait to start a family with you - but you still worried that perhaps he has now that had a change of heart
♡ that was until you noticed his eyes become unusually glossy and red, along with his cheeks adapting a somewhat red tint, ‘if this is a joke, (y/n), it’s not funny.’ his ordinary, monotone voice was now slightly shaky and low 
♡ ‘it’s not a joke, ‘iyoomi.’ you laughed, feeling your own throat go dry and your cheek flare up upon seeing how emotional sakusa had become
♡ before the tears spilled from your eyes, you felt sakusa’s arms slowly snake around your waist, place an elongated kiss on your forehead then rest his chin on your shoulder 
♡ he held you close enough that you could feel his rapid heartbeat thud against your chest and his wobbly breath tickle the back of your neck
♡ he stayed like that, silent, for a good few minutes 
♡ when he finally pulled away to admire your stomach, you noticed how his damp cheeks glistened in the light and you couldn’t help but smile
♡ although he wasn’t very vocal about how happy he was, his actions spoke a thousand words
♡ he’d insist in home-cooking all your food now because he didn’t want to risk you getting food poisoning 
♡ when he’d come home from practise, absolutely exhausted, the first thing he’d do when he gets home is  wash his hands then cut you some fruit 
♡ when he has free-time, he used to just watch TV but now he’s picked up a few hobbies of reading childcare books, tending to your every need/want and researching good baby names
♡ also, he’s so gentle with you - like, he was gentle with you before but this is a new extreme
♡ excluding the time he almost tackled you to the ground when you suggested atsumu as a baby name
♡ like he baby-proofs the house like a month into your pregnancy lmao 
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kōtarō bokuto
♡ the corners of his lips slowly curl into a bright smile, ‘pregnant?’
♡ you cocked your head to the side slightly, then hummed, ‘yeah. pregnant.’
♡ ‘like..with a kid?’
♡ you snorted, playfully rolling your eyes, ‘i’d hope so.’
♡ ‘like..with my kid?’
♡ ‘our kid - but yes.’
♡ a while passed and he had yet to do anything besides stare at you in pure adoration so you prompted him by opening your arms 
♡ to which he immediately responded by throwing himself onto you, ‘I’m gonna be a dad?! like seriously?!’
♡ luckily you were sitting on your bed so you fell back onto that but you were still being smothered by his chest 
♡ ‘bo!’ you squealed and squirmed under his weight and tight grip, glad that he was as cheery as you had hoped but not appreciating being suffocated 
♡ he suddenly pulled away but kept his large hands glued to your shoulders, revealing the tears that were already streaming down his cheeks and dampened your shirt, ‘really?!’
♡ ‘yes, bokuto. i am 100% pregnant.’ you declared for the final time before bokuto cupped your face with his hands and pulled you in to a passionate kiss, not stopping until your lips were basically swollen
♡ he’s just so hyped during the first few days of your pregnancy and he’s just super duper ready to become a dad!
♡ like he’s already practising his dad jokes 
♡ but then you remind him that he’s gonna have to wait around 9 months before he can actually see his baby and his hair literally deflates 
♡ ugh how rude of you 
♡ can you not like...make it grow faster?? please??
♡ once you explain to him that’s not how babies work, he kinda accepts it and just focuses his attention on you
♡ he kinda does some research on babies/pregnancy but not prior, he just does a quick google search when he needs to 
♡ but the intention is definitely there bc he googles the most trivial of things like ‘what to make pregnegant ppl for breakfast?’
♡ ‘what do pragnant ppl need from the supermarket?’
♡ ‘can my pregenunt wife have peanut butter?’
♡ ‘how to spell preaignant’ 
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atsumu miya 
♡ DEEP denial
♡ he thinks you are playing a prank on him bc you don’t ‘look pregnant’
♡ even when you show him your positive pregnancy test he’s like ‘and how much did that cost?’
♡ he deadass acts as if he wasn’t the one who’s been trying to get you pregnant and raving on about how much he wants a family with you for the last few months 
♡ but he just doesn’t want to believe you bc he know he’ll get way too happy for his own good and he’s afraid to be let down
♡ plus, it was one of those ‘a blessing of this magnitude couldn’t have happened to me - of all people - so this is probably either a cruel joke or a hallucination.’ moments 
♡ he’s just so far gone that after your eleventh attempt at trying to convince him that you’re pregnant for real, you just give up
♡ so y’all just go around your business somewhat normally - except atsumu was more skittery - until your baby bump started to become more prominent
♡ one day, he came back from practise, noticed your bump and pulled you into the most passionate, heartfelt kiss before placing a gentle kiss upon your stomach, a buoyant grin gracing his features
♡ though he doesn’t say much since he is at a loss for words, he mutters a few sweet nothings into your ear as he carries you to the bedroom
♡ for a joke, he pretends to be gutted if you’re libido production decrease but really, he couldn’t care less
♡ but if it increases tho- 
♡ expect him to take full advantage of that 
♡ also, if he didn’t already treat you like his goddess, he does now 
♡ work has moved down his list of priorities and you + his baby are now at number one 
♡ usually he keeps his phone on silent/stuffs it into his bag while he is practising but now he insists on keeping it on full volume, out on the bench, just in case you call him for an emergency 
♡ same goes for texts; he will literally stop mid-set to rush over to his phone if he hears it vibrate 
♡ bokuto thinks it’s sweet but the rest of them get pretty annoyed of his antics quite quickly but whenever they try to call him out on it, he’s like ‘is your wife 6 months pregnant? no! i didn’t think so. i should be on paternity leave right now so be glad i’m blessing you with my presence.’
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shōyō hinata
♡ he cannot stop thanking you
♡ as if you’re doing him a favour, which - depending on how you view it - you are
♡ he’s literally on his knees with his hands clasped together, tears of joy streaming down his face as he looks up at you in pure adoration, ‘thank you, (y/n)!’
♡ you tilted your head to the side and stared at him with a perplexed expression, ‘you’re welcome?’
♡ it’s a while before he moves from that position but when he does, it’s only so he can press his ear against your stomach to see if he can hear the baby 
♡ ‘shō, i don’t think it’s body has even formed ye--’
♡ ‘shh! it’s speaking to me.’ he chuckled then proceeded to squeeze his eyes shut, intensely listening to whatever the baby had to say 
♡ you quirked a brow, waiting for him to finish and once he did, he sprung to his feet and threw his arms over your shoulders to pull you in for a hug - in which he had to stop himself from squeezing you too tightly in fear of hurting you, as if pregnancy meant that your bones were now made of glass
♡ he’s just so happy that you agreed to bear his children 🙏
♡ also, seeing how excited you were to tell him about your pregnancy really prompted him to step up his husband-game 
♡ from now on, he loads the dishwasher, does both of your laundry, cleans the house on his own and cooks most of the food 
♡ he acts as if being pregnant means you are no longer able to do basic tasks but his real motive behind doing these things was not only to take the pressure off of you but to also prepare himself for father life 👍
♡ also, to prepare him for shopping for his kids’ clothes, he goes out and buys you maternity wear 
♡ he does this like...3 weeks into your pregnancy though so the clothes just sit and catch dust until a few months later when you actually need them 
♡ and although he is a bit of a pain to go stroller/pram shopping with (he just says buy whichever one goes the fastest), you let him take the reins when it came to buying/preparing the baby’s room and it came out beautiful!
♡ like the cradle was good quality and firm, the rug wouldn’t irritate the baby’s skin, the walls were painted expertly and the plushies/toys he picked out - unbeknownst to you at the time - kept the baby entertained for ages
♡ oh and no matter what day/week/month you are in of pregnancy, he will always look at you and your bump with the same amazement and gratitude as he did the first time you told him
797 notes · View notes
solaeter · 3 years
Text
Confession - Megumi Fushiguro
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I’m dealing with a doubt spell so writing is kinda hard, but I’ll get past it sooner or later :’) Word Count: 1,670
Warning[s]: None aside from possible errors I didn’t bother to look for. 
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Mutual pining felt like a blessing and a curse. On one hand, feelings were shared without the worry of denial.
On the other hand..
Neither party could take the initiative to admit these said feelings. 
Everyone and their mother could tell that [Name] and Megumi had some serious feelings for one another. You were the only one outside of Nobara and Itadori that he'd hang out with. Hell, he knew you longer than he knew them and tried his best to avoid having you meet them.
Cause as soon as it happened, the bombardment of questions rang through the air. Itadori and Nobara lingered dangerously close, inspecting you and Megumi.
"Since when does Fushiguro have a girlfriend?" Nobara questioned, squinting at you. Her gaze made you shift and her words had your cheeks burning. 
"We're not–"
"Lemme guess," Itadori cut you off and Megumi sighs, "This little lady is the only one who can make the great Fushiguro crumble! Am I right??" He asked, knuckle bumping Nobara once they seen the obvious blush spread across your face and Megumi's.
Now you see why he tried to avoid this meeting, even after you questioned why. They were like pesky little rats, itching for information that wasn't their business. But you couldn't blame them, at least they cared.
"We're not dating. She's just a friend." Megumi mumbled, clearly irritated, if not embarrassed. Deep down he wanted to admit that you meant something more to him. God he loved you, but actually coming forth with that confession felt more difficult than any task he's been assigned to. 
You on the other hand, also wanted to profess your long harbored feelings. Ever since you met Megumi in middle school, you always found him pretty. Especially when he beat up the bullies, goodness it made your heart flutter.
"What he said. We've been friends since middle school." You chirped, offering a smile to the two observers. Nobara crossed her arms. She's watched plenty of romantic dramas, comedies and all the works to know that you and Megumi were hard-core pining. 
"I don't know," She starts, walking around the two of you, "There's something more. Something neither one of you can admit. Don't you agree dumbo?" She looked back at Itadori who blinked at the sudden nickname.
"Yes?" He tilted his head and when she shot him a look that meant death, he nodded quickly. "Yes! Absolutely! I think you two need to have a serious chat." 
Megumi pinched the bridge of his nose. He could only handle so much of these two even though he knew they were right. You also knew what they said was right. But how? How can one admit feelings? Especially if it ruins the friendship? You'd be devastated. 
But for now, you both needed an exit. You pull out your phone and glance at it. Maybe you had an idea. 
"I left something back in my locker that I need for tonight. Wanna join me?" You elbow Megumi, who looks at you as if you were a saint. He nods, grabs your arm and drags you away while ignoring the two behind you. 
"Sorry about those two, they're...something." Megumi decided to be polite instead of rude, after all they did care about him. You hook your arm through his and smile.
"It's fine, you three have interesting chemistry. I think they're good for you since I can't be around all the time." You didn't like that Megumi had to attend a school for his powers, but you were also happy for him. The selfish side of you wanted to keep him to yourself, just like it had been for years. 
"You think so?" 
"Yep, you just gotta open up a little when you're ready. Let them see what makes you so amazing." You gush and Megumi looks away, the praise causing his cheeks to tint with a shade of pink. 
The two of you walk in peaceful silence, arm in arm until you both reach the school gates. Luckily they didn't lock up for another hour, but you didn't really need anything. Megumi wasn't stupid, he knew it was nothing more than an excuse, yet you made the trip here anyways. 
"So.." You break the silence and separate from Megumi, who watched you move in front of him, your school bag hitting the ground with a thud. "Can we uh..talk about something?" 
Megumi felt his stomach lurch and the contents of his lunch threatened to come up. Usually when someone wanted to talk, it could be good or bad. Considering his luck, Megumi only assumed it had to be bad. Yet he remained composed and simply nodded, choosing not to talk in case he faltered. 
"I really don't know how to uh..bring this up." You fiddled with your hands, avoiding Megumi's worried gaze and kicked a random rock into the street. The looming silence that followed felt heavy and nearly made him lose his mind. 
"Bring what up?" He urged quietly, crossing his arms just to keep himself busy for less than a second. His mind reeled and he didn't even consider the possibility of a confession, well at least from you. He's been trying to think of ways to bring it up without looking like an idiot, but he draws blanks after his head says he won't ever get out of the dreaded friend zone. 
"Um..we've been friends for so long. I know everything about you and you about me. I just..after some time I think I might–" 
You're cut off by Megumi grabbing your face, his hands were cool to your warm cheeks and his eyebrows were furrowed as he took a deep breath.
"I love you [Name]." He was straight to the point which threw you for a loop. Your mouth dropped and then closed quickly. The little shit took the words right from you. Granted you were prolonging the confession but you were getting there! 
When you don't answer immediately, Megumi mumbles a quick apology and backs away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. 
"No, no don't confess and back away!" You pull him back toward you, hugging him once you two collide. His arms wrap instinctively around your figure, even though he was slightly hesitant. He felt like he was treading on glass while you were stupidly over the moon.
"You took the words right out of my mouth." You say shyly, resting your head against his chest. His heart quickly thumped in your ear, much like how yours did the same. 
Megumi's world shifted or so he thought. All his fears towards his feelings vanished and it was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. You shared the same feelings and of course he should have seen it. Others called you both out, especially the two idiots who hounded earlier. Was he really that blind? Or stupidly oblivious? 
Either way, he didn't know what to do now.  
"So we felt the same all this time." Megumi says more to himself and you look up at him. When your eyes meet, he takes a moment to admire your pretty orbs. This was his first time being able to actually look at you without having to sneak glances or be called weird for staring. His cheeks warmed once again and you smiled.
"I guess so. Leave it to us to rely on your pesky friends to actually break the silence." You giggle, adjusting so that your arms wrap around Megumi's neck. He bends to match your height, coming face to face.
The air would usually turn awkward but this time, you both silently stare until you look away with a tiny smile tugging at your lips. 
"What?" Megumi questioned. He didn't know the first thing about romance. Or even women for that matter. But he knew you, like a book. Except at this moment, he felt clueless. His mind ran in circles, leaving him a happy mess inside his head. 
"Oh nothing." You bite the inside of your cheek. His gaze made you squirm and heat shift from your cheeks to your ears as well. Why did it feel so different?? Yet so welcome? "You're just really pretty okay? And I finally get to say it without being looked at funny." You pout, glancing at Megumi who blinks. 
"I– So are you." He responds calmly despite every nerve in his body screaming. You turn your head back toward him and act before you can think by pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss.
Megumi freezes, eyes wide and alert when your soft lips meet his. Though he quickly closes his eyes and keeps you close by cupping your cheek. He didn't think, his body acted on its own and boy did it feel nice. He didn't think he'd ever experience something like this. Something so normal and innocent in his dangerous life. 
When you both pull back, neither one of you can look at one another. Instead you pick up your school bag and drape it over your shoulder. Megumi rubs the back of his neck, fully prepared to face some type of scolding. But it never comes when you take his hand.
"Whenever you're not busy being a badass sorcerer, maybe we can go out or something?" You ask, lacing your fingers through his. Megumi looks down at your intertwined hands before glancing at you. 
"Yeah." He didn't hesitate to answer and started to pull you toward the direction that led home. You hum delightfully and let him lead you without another word.
Did you imagine your confession would happen the way it did? You couldn't say, but you could admit to the hopeless daydreams of romantic scenarios playing out in the most cliché manner. You were swept off your feet by the marvelous, perfect man, yet none of those silly dreams stood a chance at how perfect everything played out with Megumi.
Even if it took two so called idiots to set it in motion. 
318 notes · View notes
danddymaro · 3 years
Text
Stubborn | Rohan Kishibe x Reader
Recap :
- Kira is Dead (LOL)
Josuke isn't massively fucked as he was in the last episode LMFAO. Basically, things went a LOT smoother here, with only one little exception.
Rohan admitting his feelings while almost losing his (F/n)
Character injury 
Major change in story
Happy end , no worries
Warning : Not so much romanticism but it was an idea I've had. And we just need to get these drafts outta here.
A/N:
Thoughts are in italics and quotations // ‘ Example,’
Flashback are all in just Italics
Word count: 3451
Stubborn
Rohan glowered at the younger, limping male as he trudged his way closer to him and the woman that was gingerly held within his secure hold.
"You..." the emerald-eyed male sneered before tenderly easing the (h/c) haired female down, mindful not to bring her any more unneeded distress.
He was then quick to shoot back up, moving in long strides, advancing towards Josuke with no trace of the tenderness he'd held moments ago, but rather, maliciousness that itched over his features as he came face to face with the younger.
“ Stay back !”  Rohan nearly roared, moving to stop the dark-haired teen from further advancing towards the hurt, (h/c) haired young woman as she lay injured on the concrete ground.
Jojo was then pushed back by a jut to the shoulder that was executed by a bloodied hand that stayed and had every intention in the world from letting him advance forward.
"Don't you dare come any closer Higashikata," Rohan huffed out with the same venom.
With glaring eyes, Josuke shoved the shaking man aside, quickly doing away with the sudden grip with his own vicious jerking motion, not willing to waste any more time with useless quarrels when it could be spent helping (f/n).
“ - You can't be freaking serious!” Jojo cried out in return while not holding back on the aggressive shove,  "What are you doing?" He then proceeded to ask, his tone wavering in the slightest, struck by the elder man's opposition. 
'- Don't you care about her?' He wondered with bared teeth, ' Doesn't it hurt you to see her like this?' He added, eyeing her beaten sight, all with threatening tears ready to path way onto his young, yet worn face.
“- I need to heal her”!  He then declared as he reached out past the artist, all in spite of  his determination to stand in opposition
.
‘Closer...I'm almost there... I'm almost there (f/n),’ Josuke thought to himself, knowing he was just centimeters away from his stand’s working range.
“ What you need to do is get the hell away from her!” Rohan retorted, still fighting back, and yet, throughout the entire time, he hadn't taken the liberty to look down at (f/n), instead, training his spite-filled green orbs eyes on the frantic teenager.
 “I didn't ask for your help!” Kishibe added, his spite heightened as he reminded himself just why she'd been targeted.
‘If it weren’t for you…’ The mangaka thought to himself, glaring venomously at the other male. ‘If it weren’t for you.... this wouldn’t have happened…’ He thought with assurance. 
'If she hadn't gone out of her way...all for you...' He then added with the same spite, his entire body trembling with fury.
"I'll get her out of here myself, And I don't need you to get in the way!" Kishibe added, soon hearing sirens in the distance as the paramedics approached.
"I don't need your help," He proceeded to speak lowly.
"- But she does," Josuke said back, sternness in his voice, "and I'm going to save her," he said with certainty, not wanting to have another loss on his hands.
"I didn't ask for your help," Rohan insisted, and the arrogant declaration stiffened the teen with silence. “Because if it weren't for you..." Rohan then repeated out loud, his sentence going unfinished before he continued with another line instead. 
  "....You should have just stayed away from her, ” he maundered, going ignored by Josuke as he wordlessly brought out his stand, the large humanoid being standing tall and just as determined as its wielder, who by then had a grasp on what the real issue was.
It only took the few uttered words prior to understand the true reason behind the elder male's actions, and it made him seethe with rage,  
“ You're pathetic,” Josuke said below his breath, unable to look away from (f/n) as he spoke, doing just what the other man couldn't. 
'Is that was this is about?' He wondered, 'That asshole...he can't just man up, can he?
- Not even for you,' He thought bitterly while gazing down at (f/n).
  “I don't give a damn about what you want. And I could care less about that simple-minded pride of yours,”  he went on, his voice rising as he finally took a chance to look back at the other male as he let crazy Diamond's power befall upon the female.
Cobalt met emerald, and in between the fierce gaze were unsaid words shot in between the two, whereas an understanding was made. 
'- Try to stop me.' Josuke taunted Rohan with a tight toothed grit, his body standing rigid straight as his hands which were at his sides trembled with his withheld fury.
The younger's haggard breathing steadied for just a moment as he stood as strong as his convictions were, and the very sight made the other man that glared at him scorn.
“I despise you,” Kishibe hissed before a sharp gasp came from below, the little noise stealing his attention, his eyes finally trailing down to the female to watch as the shattered bits of her bones took form. 
The endless flow of her cuts then closed, stopping the messy spill.
His expression then unscrunched from its frustrated sneer to melting relief as he saw her breathing begin to steady and afterward, a low, drawn-out breath left him as he saw her (e/c) colored eyes slowly flutter open, the lovely drops gradually adjusting to the light of the cloudy sky.
A small grunt emitted from (f/n) before her (e/c) colored eyes fell upon the teen kneeling before her. Her two hazy orbs then locked onto the concerned blues staring down at her,
 'JoJo...it's you...' She thought with a wave of comfort that soon livened her.
And after the relief settled, she then surged with elation, " JoJo! " (f/n) said amidst bubbling joy, her arms immediately circling his neck, tightly holding him with a urgent need to feel him close. 
" Jojo...you're ok," she said sweetly, soon crying into his neck. 
Her face then pressed directly onto blood and grime, ignoring the filthy stench that clung to him as fiercely as she presently did.
 'You're alive...' She thought with joy, knowing that, that was all that mattered.
"...But you’re all beat up," she sniffled afterward, grateful that even if he was injured, he was well enough to stand, enough to tend to her.
A weary chuckle then left her as she realized how fortunate they were to barely scrape by.
“Yeah,” he breathed while releasing the same breathy chortle she did, and instantaneously, his tensed body melted under her loving embrace, realizing that they had somehow gone against the odds, and he was thankful that it was all over. 
" Glad your back...and just as cuddly as ever too," he then smiled, the palms of his hands laying on her back, bringing her close while he returned her affection, grateful that he had another moment with her to add to his memories. 
'He would have taken you too...' Josuke thought while closing his eyes, ‘ He was so close to taking you...' He added while sniffling, grateful that Kira had left without claiming another innocent life.   
Peeking out from over the healer's shoulder, (f/n) then caught sight of the mangaka, observing as his face twisted into frustration, and she wasn't certain if it was fueled by pain or anger.
She noticed he was bloodied too, but couldn't see from where the gore spilled from, and she wondered when he'd arrived.
She asked herself whether or not he'd made it during their fight and had been caught in between as well because he'd seemed to have gone through an entire battle himself.
'Rohan...why do you look so...troubled? So …Beaten?' She wondered with concern, not knowing that the scarlet color that had clung to him so passionately had come from her, unaware that the reason he'd become so tainted by the tint was because of how strongly he'd held her.
He kept her in his arms, his vibrant, green eyes dimmed with horror as he felt how much of her life oozed from her stilled, cooling body.
"(f/n)?" He said softly while gingerly cradling her in a nurturing demeanor that wasn't too difficult to comprehend because by then, any fool could see how much he cared about her. 
By then, every bit of the hesitance he showed before was disregarded as he left himself bare, unable to face the situation with anything but the truth.
Swallowing thickly, he let out a soft, weary chuckle as he looked down at her, his thumb gently gliding over the running red that painted her lovely lips. 
"...You've made your point already, " He murmured softly as he witnessed the flow of his sorrow trail down the sides of her paling face.
' I can't live without you. ' He mused while he sourly smiled. 
"...You're my best friend." He openly admitted to her, the softness in his voice so tender, one would never believe it ever had the viciousness in it to convey his typical arrogance. 
' And I don't want to lose you,'  He thought while pressing his forehead to hers before huffing out three little words that had knotted in his throat before, but somehow, now found easy to utter in spite of the thickness that clotted his throat, 
"I love you..." he huffed, closing his eyes tightly. 
Gingerly, the hand that wasn't supporting her trailed over her bruised cheek before holding it, 
'Why....Why was it so hard to say before?' he wondered with frustration. 'Why is it that now, now that I finally have it in me to say it...you can't even respond back,' he added, lamenting being so cold with her in the past. 
 "Can't you hear me?" he asked her softly.
It was then that each and every instance he'd shown her anything but welcome tormented him because he recognized that every second of those memories could have been filled with her smiles instead.
If he hadn't been so bullheaded, then maybe he would have let his pride go for a moment and tell her what he felt.
If he hadn't let her go hours before, then she wouldn't have been in the killer's sight.
If he'd just pulled her back into his home and told her that he wanted her to stay a moment longer, then the outcome would have been different.
"Now, please...just wake up," He compromised with her, " Please...?" He whispered faintly, his voice falling into silence as she stayed still, unstirred by his plea.
And as he continued to speak and beg, the white material of his clothes soaked in the infectious red, letting it creep through the fibers until every thread was replaced with the color of her fleeting life.
And it wasn't long before the murmurs of bargain he released were then drowned out by a familiar voice, and it was at that moment that all of his suffrage evolved into bitter resentment.
' Why do you insist on risking yourself for him...?' Rohan thought with bitterness, witnessing how willingly she leaned into the other male, and much more, how happy she was to see him. 
'Don't you get it?' He continued to silently maunder, 'Don't you get that ...eventually...one day...he won't be able to heal you?' he added.
'In the end...he'll lose you too...'
"Rohan..." She breathed, slowly easing away from Josuke, offering him one last smile before her eyes found their entire focus drawn to the irritated male whose sight drew far from hers, finding the rubble of the street more his taste.
His lips were pressed together until his mouth formed a thin, firm line that wouldn't allow a single peep to escape. 
'Do you remember any of it?' he then wondered, not knowing which one of his organs had it worse, his twisting stomach of his overworked heart.
Slowly, his face filled with red, and he lost his ability to gaze at her any longer without turning completely vermillion.
Before she could question his sudden fluster, a faint memory of a sweet, sorrowful murmur came forth, and it made her eyes grow wide. 
With widely peeled (e/c) colored eyes she gazed at the dejected male before trudging her way to him, all while slowly functioning before happiness flooded her and filled her with giddiness.
'It was you...' She thought with a bursting heart, her hands both flying to her torso to press over her heaving chest.
"Rohan!" she said while suddenly leaping towards him, surprising him with the sudden pounce. 
"Rohan! I..." swallowing down thickly she chuckled, hoping it wasn't a delusion of hers.
'I heard... I think I heard you,' She thought with a heavy heart. ' I think that … we feel the same...' She mused while she felt his arms tightly wrapped around her. 
She took the risk and pressed her lips to his, quickly discovering that she was accepted by the simple ease he displayed while melted along with her. 
As Josuke watched, he took notice of the embrace they shared, observing the longing glow in Rohan’s eyes before they shut tight, taking in the way his hands held her, almost as though there was nothing more precious to him as she was.
"Of all people..." Josuke started, slowly shaking his head at the young woman, unsure of what to tell her, deciding to go with what was most obvious, and could basically sum it all up, 
"Rohan...That guy...he's just insufferable," he mumbled lowly, and it made (f/n) giggle. 
Rather than be insulted, the young smiled instead, 
"He is, isn't he?" She admitted, unable to count all the times the man had made her fume, because, truth be told, he got under her skin more than anyone else could.
"He's insufferable, and kind of full of himself, and don't forget that he can be a real jerk too," She added while looking up at the bright sky. 
"He's all of those things," she admitted while continuing to beam, acknowledging Rohan's worst points and accepting them.
"- But he's also sweet," She informed the Joestar descendent.
 "When you ask him something, he might say no," She reminded him, " But for the most part, he'll give in, with almost no fight, just an annoyed, little sigh that makes it seem as though he could be doing better things when in reality it's all a front," She informed the listening male.
"It's all a front so you won't see how eager he is to please everyone," She explained. 
" And it doesn't come from insecurity," She quickly added with certainty.
"It's not that he wants to be loved by everyone, or needs their validation," She further explained, making certain he grasped the reasoning behind the other man's actions.
 "He's just...Well,  he just wants to have all the answers, which in turn will help everyone he loves, and cares about, and that is including you." She spoke, and during the last bit, Josuke scoffed.
" He can't stand me!" he said with certainty, " But it's not like I care !" He quickly added. "'Cause it's not like I like the guy either, So it doesn't bother me one bit, " he added with a huff, crossing his arms while trying to seem indifferent. 
"You've gotten the best out of him." she started,  " - More than once," She then added with sagging shoulders.
 "To him, you're a rival. No matter what he says, you're on par with him. And the small admiration he has for you is flushed within that stupid arrogance of his." she sighed, wishing it wasn't so.
"He's just such a sore loser, and what's much worse, he hates having depts., because it means that he's somehow failed,"  she added, falling into the root of the problem.
"He might seem like he hates you, but if anything were to happen to you, he'd be concerned, " She revealed. "Because, Morioh is his home, and he knows that if anyone is capable of protecting it, it's you," she said while gazing at him with trust, setting the same trust on the youth.
 "He wants to be the one to do it...and in his own way he does, but he's well aware that when it comes down to it, you have the strength he lacks," (f/n) continued on. 
"He detests it...but at the same time... he's so grateful." She said with amusement, remembering that the only reason she'd come to the conclusion was because Rohan had let just a bit too much of the truth slip out during their talks. 
"He seems difficult to understand, but, that's just because you think about it too much. He's not so complex. He's just a bit eccentric and weird, " She said with assurance. 
"And weaved within all that strange nature is a good person." She added with a grand smile.
"You could write a whole book on him, huh?" Josuke teased, and she took it in with a bright glow, hanging her head afterward, 
"It'd just be a long love letter," She said while grinning stupidly, it being something Josuke threw his head back at. 
He laughed, openly teasing her, but silently admiring her at the same time.
'That's what I want,' he then mused. 
'Someone like that. 
Someone that dedicated. 
Someone that's willing to understand me,' He thought while praising the young woman, hoping he'll be lucky enough to have someone as comprehensive and sweet as her one day. 
In a sense, it reminded him of his mother and the sweet way she always expressed herself about Joseph Joestar. Granted, the situation hadn't been ideal, but he always smiled when his mom showed her tender side as she recalled the love she still held onto.
Josuke was well aware of how much she'd suffered, but when he'd asked her if she could change it all, she never changed her answer. 
She always chose to relive it all, and Josuke accepted it, compromising with himself that even if it ended up in suffrage, he'd be willing to cherish every moment he had with the one person that could give him that same love and understanding.
' That idiot...' Josuke thought to himself, unable to understand how Rohan couldn't see the way her eyes glowed when she looked at him. 
'That giant idiot,' He added, feeling insulted on the young woman's behalf whenever the other man showed jealousy towards their friendship, one that he never had any intention to morph into anything else, because it wasn't necessary.
And (f/n) would never dream of it either.
' Isn't it obvious?' He wondered, '(f/n) doesn't see anyone but you, just like, sometimes, you can't see a damn thing besides her,' He added.
For just a split second the two men aligned their eyes together, yet again lively green and bright blue met, though, with a different message sent in between, and it was almost amiable.
The artist's hand held the young woman's, tightly grasping it as he pulled her along before they both stood before the teen. 
"Josuke...Higashikata," Rohan said lowly, uttering the name with the same disdain as always,
"You won't hear this from me ever again, " he started before quickly looking back at the darling woman for a quick charge up in inspiration.
"But..." He started, all while still eyeing (f/n), " Thank you." he breathed, trying to keep his face stern, though faltering as he remembered the pitiful state the female had been in moments ago. 
"Thank you for healing her,"  He said with true gratefulness before looking back at the other male. 
At a loss for words, Josuke stayed silent before nodding quickly, 
'Sure, ' he silently added because he was left blubbering and flustered, having no chance for recovery before Rohan retreated, leaving with the young woman close behind him.
She looked back at him with a halfhearted smile, partially apologizing for not staying any longer, and somewhat sheepish for simply walking away with the other man while Josuke was still injured himself. 
But, the Joestar descendent didn’t mind in the least bit.
Granted, Rohan Kishibe wasn't his favorite person in the world, but he made his friend happy, and after the shitty day they'd had, Jojo wasn't going to insist to have her stay with him instead for what was just a couple of stitches he needed.
He then walked over the sidewalk, moving towards a more comfortable spot on the grass to lay on as he heard the blaring sirens ring louder. 
With a smile, he looked up at the Morioh sky, and he smiled, grateful that the bizarre summer of 1999 was finally over with. 
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To Survive this Pain, Part 1 - 11th Doctor x Reader
A/n: I'm not dead, I promise! I've just been struggling to finish off fics. If this seems slightly rushed it's because I just needed to finish something. It's exam season (it's extra-long now due to a certain virus), but they're over in a few weeks. I've been trying to stretch into writing for different Doctors, and in my new formats, but good old Eleven is easiest to write. Inbox is still open :)
Word Count: 2596
Summary: After the "death" of Amy and Rory, the Doctor is devastated. After deciding to isolate himself on a cloud, he leaves you with the Paternoster Gang till Strax informs you the Doctor wants to see you.
Warnings: Angst, Cold Doctor, Doctor is slightly ooc due to guilt, mild self-inflicted Injury, Bouts of Rage.
I should try to post part two as soon as possible.
This is my first ever Full Story (GIF isn't mine).
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Your shoes splashed through puddles on the cobblestone road, on your way down to the park of which you knew he would be.
You hadn't heard from him in a short while now, but Jenny and Vastra frequently advising you to pay him a visit had been getting to you. That's why, when Strax brought you the news that the Doctor wanted to see you, you leapt at the opportunity.
You were worried, you'll admit. It was clear as day that losing Amy and Rory had him tearing himself to pieces. It was only a matter of time before he sent you off, too. Before he abandoned you.
Weaving around the quiet Victorian streets, the sun still yet to grace the sky, you had arrived at the park. Looking around the odd trees that decorated the perimeter, you picked out the tree that you knew had the elusive ladder directly above it. You stepped over the beds of wilting flowers that lined the pathways into the overgrown grass.
After completing the feat of reaching the ladders, consisting of either jumping or using your umbrella handle, you had successfully pulled the ladder down far enough to climb onto.
Making your way up the ice-cold rungs, you take a moment to consider why the Doctor called for you in the first place.
It made little sense to you. After all, the Doctor had been avoiding you for the better part of two months now; what had changed?
The Doctor planning on taking you home became all the more likely in your mind as you began to climb the spiral staircase, shivering as the late-autumn air nipped at your skin. Winter was slowly breaking through the remaining life.
If you weren't so hung up on adjusting to the less-than-ideal state of Victorian England, you would've had more time to worry about the Doctor. However, he was so hung up with his own issues, and you with yours, that he only crossed your mind when you were settling down for the night.
Of course, it hurt that you too. Never seeing Amy and Rory again. You did your best to hold onto the fact that they lived a happy life together.
A life that you knew could never have. You wish you could say goodbye to them, but you chose to carry the loss with you.
You were exhausted, it was safe to say. Spending your days helping out the Paternoster Gang with new cases that come in was certainly frustrating, especially when you had to avoid so much. Milk, green dyes, dodgy stairs, aliens and gas leaks. Nothing was safe in Victorian times.
Not that you didn't enjoy the company, mind you. Jenny always provided conversation, and paired with Vastra, there were plenty of investigations to be had. You just missed them all, sometimes.
The Doctor had become such a vital figure in your life that it didn't seem right for him to not be there. When you had both lost Donna, you were there for each other, and even then, he was a wreck. You had spent those first two months together, and you had never felt closer to someone before. At first, you couldn't admit it to yourself, but after six years, you knew that was when you started falling for him.
There was so much you didn't understand about him, yet so much he had begun to explain. You had seen and done so much together, places that surprised and scared the both of you. In distant worlds and ancient times, there lay so many memories that you had forgotten. Just another thing consumed by time.
A simple flip through your diaries would confirm that through all that, you admired him: mattering not which of his faces. You had accepted from the start that he was an unobtainable desire, no matter how you looked at it.
He was old, alien and a danger-magnet. Many considered the Doctor to be a God.
It upset you to know that the Doctor could never love you, not in the way you love him. Not in the way that he had shown you what love could be, what it should be. But that was what you had to expect from the Doctor.
You assumed that consistently losing those he loved must hurt immensely. You also imagine losing someone he could spend the rest of his lives with would leave another unfixable hole in his heart.
So it made sense to you that the Doctor would never willingly fall for a human. Your short life-spans and weak bodies meant that so much as a single bullet could rob you of your life.
The thought of what a state he must've been in at that very moment was disturbing, to say the least. You had seen the Doctor angry before, and it was not an easy sight.
His heart held so much pain, so much guilt.
After what felt like a good three minutes, you stepped off the staircase. Your shoes now emerged in a cloud, which could somehow keep you from plummeting into the streets below. You felt surprisingly light, almost like you were standing in a pit of feathers, yet some odd force kept you from losing your balance. Plucking your key out of your pocket, you press your hand against the door of the TARDIS. You unlock the door, pulling the key from the lock and stepping into the Console room.
You called out for him. After listening for a moment, you concluded that the Doctor must've been elsewhere.
The TARDIS was a glum sight. Most of the orange lights were dimmed: if functioning at all. A few even had fist-holes in them. There were what looked like hundreds of books cluttering the console, all of varying topics: The Time War, Time Lord Psychology, the History of the Universe, Earth History, Greatest War Losses. Some had bookmarks; others he had clearly tabbed.
Paper littered the glass flooring, each scribbled in several handwritings. They all clearly varied in ages and sizes, some a muddy brown, others a vivid white. Quite a lot were in small clusters of pages, as though they were ripped from a book. You picked up one of the sheets to inspect closer, and your heart nearly broke.
Each page had a sort of date in the corner, which you quickly realised must've been an approximation of the Doctor's age at the time. They were diary entries, ripped out and thrown in what you assumed to be a fit of rage.
The Doctors' tweed jacket had slipped off the console and onto the floor. The contents of his pockets spilt out onto the floor.
You leant to pick it up, grimacing at just how much he was carrying around. Throwing the jacket over the railing, you avoided stepping on any more pieces of paper.
"Tidy some of this, will you?" You addressed the TARDIS, a hand on the edge of the controls, "I'll go talk to him, where is he?" The TARDIS clicked and hummed in response, showing you a blueprint on the monitor, "The Library? Okay then."
Darting out of the Console Room, you attempt to discover the library as soon as possible. You vaguely remembered the three places the library is most likely to crop up. You went from there. Fortunately for you, you didn't have to go far before the library appeared.
You had always felt as though the library was too empty. Four stories of shelves filled with books, all visible from the ground floor, the rows of shelves created a sort of maze of titles and colours. The Doctor must've owned every single book in the galaxy, judging by the sheer size. Not to mention the several dozen or so empty seats. The library could easily hold thousands of people at once, yet there is rarely ever so much as a whisper.
You had a fair clue as to why the Doctor would be hiding away in there.
There the Doctor was, turned away from the door, in an intricately decorated armchair. You could just about make out the top of his head. You loomed behind him awkwardly, unsure or not if he was aware of your presence.
"Doctor?" You faltered. His head perked up slightly, and the Doctor strained out a hum. He stood up, his arms tiredly hanging at his sides after he stretched. It checked out with your fit of rage theory. The Doctor walked up to you, and you only then noticed how fraught he was.
His expression was tired, eyes sunken and lips pressed into a thin line. His shirt was unkempt: the sleeves were torn slightly. It also appeared burnt or covered in dust. His hands were covered in dust too.
However, you noticed that his right hand had quite a few cuts and gashes, which all seeped out orange-tinted blood.
His greenish-brown eyes search yours for a moment as a tear rolls down his cheek. He inhales deeply, nodding to himself.
"Look, I..." The Doctor paused, again glancing over into your eyes, "I'm sorry- I can't, I can't do this," He took in a trembling gasp for air, "I don't want to, but I can't keep doing this. I'm sick of it. I can't keep losing people. I'm so sick of saving the universe." Unsure of what to you, you reach a hand out to the Doctors. He puts a hand on top of yours, keeping the other, bloodier fist at his side. You brush your thumb over his knuckles, his hand hot against yours. The Doctor continues, "Everyone, everyone who travels with me leaves, or dies, and I'm always alone again. Alone and in pain. I can't keep doing this..."
Smiling sadly, you nod, "I understand," You looked back up at the Doctor, "If you called me here to convince me to go home-"
"Take you home?" The Doctor's voice cracked, "I could never. That'd be just as bad as losing you. I need you."
Oh, the Doctor have his way of making you feel important at the worst moments. Your insides bubbled giddily, but you refused to show it. Instead, you ignored it to the best of your ability; what he was saying was important.
Your attention had fallen back down to his hand, and it looked considerably worse than you initially thought. Pieces of glass dug into his knuckles, the skin seeming gnarled by the force of the oncoming storm, "Doctor, your hand,"
"It's fine." The Doctor seethed, staring numbly at you, "I'm not human, it's not going to kill me."
You wanted to protest. However, given the Doctor's already fragile temperament, you weren't going to push it. Instead, after an instant of silence, you asked a simple question, "How have you been, then?"
The Doctor blinked, giving an answer careful thought. He had an earnest grimace as he finally spoke, "Furious."
"I can see, that" You hum, putting equal thought into how you should approach your response, "What do you think you're going to do, now?"
"Stay here. I'm not getting involved anymore." The Doctor spat, pulling his hand away from yours, turning to sit down, "I don't want to care."
"That's fair enough." You reassure. You didn't like the sound of the Doctor retiring too much, but you respected his choice. If he didn't want to save the world, he doesn't have to. You hoped that, in his chosen conditions, he would heal.
You vowed to yourself at that moment that you'd do everything you could to help him. Starting with his physical injuries.
You heard the armchair squeak softly as the Doctor flopped back against it, picking up a book from the coffee table and beginning to read. You headed back over to the door and grabbed the small medkit from the bracket on the wall. You paced back to the Doctor, pulling a pouffe from a few feet away to sit on. The Doctor glared daggers at you, exhaling sharply and holding his arm out in your general direction. You thanked him meekly, beginning to remove the sharp, reinforced glass shards from his knuckles.
If you were new to travelling with the Doctor, you thought that seeing this might hurt you more. However, six years of travelling was more than enough for the two of you to be used to this sort of treatment. He never seemed to care much about his physical health, more about yours. That often ended up in you worrying about the Doctor, not that you minded. You supposed it worked out, as you both fussed over each other. If the Doctor's previous face saw how he was acting, you were sure he'd have a fit. Not that he mattered, as he was still a part of the man in front of you.
You could tell by the downtrodden way he pretended to read his book, staring a hole through it, that something was bothering him.
"Are you scared of me?" The Doctor halted, voice brittle. He had taken note of how delicate you were and had drawn it up to a fear that the Doctor would lash out at you.
"No," You shushed, focusing on removing the glass from his hands.
"You don't sound sure,"
"I am." You reassured bluntly, "I'm just being careful. I don't want to hurt you more."
"I'm not hurt! You don't need to fuss over me,"
You lifted your eyebrows slightly, "There's nothing wrong with feeling, Doctor. As you said yourself, feelings enhance life." The Doctor exhaled petulantly, eyes back on his book. "But not even you can be in pain forever."
"What is my alternative?" The Doctor strangled out, "I forget? I do something selfish?"
You grimace as you remove the last small shard from his pinky. You take out a clean cloth and some water, dampening the rag as you speak, "You're forced to survive this pain, this guilt, but you will grow from it. You make mistakes so that you learn from them."
You gently clear the blood from his hands and start to apply mild pressure to the deeper wounds. The two of you continued in silence, the Doctor only occasionally removing his hand to turn the page.
He was such a different person to the goofball front you were used to. He was melancholic. However, you would see a small amount of your Doctor bubbling to the surface. He would occasionally chuckle at the book he was reading or draw circles on your palm as you held his hand still. It provided you with enough comfort to know that you weren't wasting your time.
You finished up your last-minute medical care with a bandage around his hand. You closed the medkit.
"Alright, I'm just going to go restock this, then I'll go tidy up the paper in the console room,"
"Oh- right that... Must've been a mess. I'm sorry,"
"It's okay." You smiled pleasantly, "Come find me if you need me, okay? I won't be far,"
The Doctor caught your hand in his, just as you were about to leave, he tugged at your arm. You leant down, and the Doctor pressed a short kiss to your cheek. You countered with a kiss of your own on the middle of his forehead. Just like you used to, back with his previous incarnation.
As you wandered off, you were oblivious as to what that gesture meant. Was it a thank you? Another apology? Was it even platonic?
From behind you, you swore that he said something you thought you'd never hear the Doctor say.
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doublekrecs · 4 years
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Going Live
Spencer Reid x Reader
Synopsis: You're an intern for the FBI but double as a camgirl in your spare time. You thought you kept things pretty well under wraps but who knew one of your mentors watched you all along. 
Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v action (remember to wrap it), face fucking, use of sex toys, tiny bit of degrading
a/n: writing this in the setting of season 10/11 because spencer looks so damn good and i wanted to include my girl tara
also part 2 of more than physics should be up later today! hope you enjoy -🧞‍♀️
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You had been a paid intern for the FBI for about a year, paid being said lightly. But the job was definitely worth it. While being under the wing of the BAU you had not only learned so much about your hopefully future profession, but you had made a family with the team. Especially under the wing of Tara Lewis, she had been there for a little while but you looked up to her work and she was more than happy to offer advice and a good wine night.
The team knew you had a second job on the side but weren’t exactly sure what it was, just that you worked from home. They respected your personal life enough to stay out of it, however that didn’t stop Rossi from offering you a little extra because “that's what uncles are supposed to do”. You would always wave him off and say you could handle yourself, because you could. 
You thoroughly enjoyed working. The money and gifts were obviously a big reward but there was always something so exciting about being on camera. Maybe it was how risque it was, being exposed for thousands to see. Or the fact that many were pleasuring themselves to the sight of you.
It was Friday night and you were getting your setup ready. You already had your outfit and glam on. Someone had sent you a set from your wishlist, lilac lace hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all your assets and boosting your confidence. In your hair were the same color streaks you did with a tinting spray. You set the camera and laptop up in front of your bed. Silk sheets and plush pillows behind you where you could rest comfortably before your show started. 
Little did you know across town Spencer Reid was getting ready to tune in to said show. He was never one for tech, having Garcia still hand him paper files and would refuse to upgrade his phone. He had gotten a computer just so he could video chat with doctors quickly about new medicine for his mother. However he quickly found out there was so much more the internet had to offer.
_
He had stumbled across your show one lonely night. Spencer couldn’t see himself going out to find a one night stand so the pleasure of his hand it was. He was looking through videos when he saw the thumbnail with a girl wearing glasses similar to the ones you wear when you forget contacts. His curiosity got the best of him and if he was a cat he’d be one life down. He couldn’t believe the sight on the screen in his lap. 
There you were the bubbly intern, body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you from the pink wand you held over your clit. He was delightfully flustered and the moans spilling from the computer’s speakers weren’t doing much to help.
He was entranced by you writhing in pleasure but was knocked back into reality after hearing you giggle. God he loved when you made that noise in the office, usually after fake flirting with Hotch or hearing about JJ’s boys. But this situation was totally different and if he was honest with himself he was very into it. 
You reached over to grab a large pink dildo. Taking it in your mouth before swiping it through your folds. It easily slipped in and you started rapidly pumping it into you chasing your orgasm. 
Spencer was too enthralled to even think about touching himself. He was using the gift which was his eidetic memory to the best of his ability to make this something he’d never forget. 
You came with a loud moan, hips lifting and grinding against the toy to chase the friction. Quickly you turned off the wand and took the toy out. You sat up and looked into the camera before sucking it off. Spencer's eyes widened as he let out a groan shifting on his bed. 
“Alright guys that was fun for tonight,” you said as you sat criss cross on the bed. “I didn’t think I’d be able to get to five.”
FIVE?? He thought in his head. He felt like he was gonna explode just watching those last few minutes. How was he supposed to last watching you make yourself cum five times. 
“Thank you so much for all the tips and support! My links are all in the description and I’ll see you angels next Friday! Muahh” you signed off blowing the camera a kiss. 
Spencer knew it was wrong of him to view a coworker in such an exposed light but he couldn’t help himself. So he spent the night viewing some of your old videos which brought him to what he swears to be the best orgasm of his life. Of course he sent gracious tips and made sure to buy little items off the wishlist, mentally noting to return every Friday night. Even if it meant hiding in the bathroom from Morgan in their shared hotel room on cases. That was two months ago. 
_
Just as you finished your session the phone rang signaling a case. Quickly you got in the shower and put on comfy business clothes since you usually stayed with Garcia doing extra research and taking notes. You quickly grabbed your bag and keys, making your way straight to the office. 
In the elevator you heard someone calling to keep it open. Spencer made his way in, buttoning his cardigan and adjusting his bag, quickly saying thank you. You pressed the button to the floor as you felt a pair of eyes on you. Looking over Spencer was eyeing you with a confused look on his face. You were about to question him when he spoke up first. 
“I thought you had streaks in your hair”
“I did… Earlier tonight but they washed out.” He looked even more confused, then his brain put two and two together. He just realized what he had said. For a genius this wasn’t one of his brightest moments. 
You looked at him amused as a deep blush spread from his neck to the tips of his ears. There was only one way someone would know about your quick hair change: by watching your show. The door to the elevator opened and you walked out giggling as he started sputtering apologies behind you. You quickly cut him off. 
“Spence, it's alright. If you want we can talk about this later because right now you have a bad guy to catch. But may I suggest making your name something less obvious, not that I don’t love ‘magiclover187’.” He stood there mouth gaping as you patted his shoulder and walked up to the conference room to meet the rest of the team. 
_
The case was one of the easier ones. Very minimal killing and the team was back by Tuesday morning, ready for a week of paperwork. Spencer had been dancing around you the whole time, he could barely keep eye contact with you and would rush to leave the room if you walked in. If he was this flushed around you with clothes on you could just imagine how much of a mess he would be when he watched you perform. Which brought an idea to your head. 
Friday rolled around and you walked over to his desk where he was nose deep in one of his Russian books. You put your hand in it to bring it down. Once he noticed it was you he was about to start with another ramble of apologies when you stopped him.
“Alright I’m tired of the awkwardness and I want my friend back,” you said with a soft smile. “Why don’t you come over tonight and we can have that talk. I’ll even order a pizza and we can watch Doctor Who.”
“Y/n are you sure? I-I mean it is um uh Friday.. And ya know you usually film,” he said as he played with his tie. 
You giggled at how nervous he was. Poor little genius didn’t know he was the only one with tricks up their sleeve. 
“It’s fine I promise. Just a night with my favorite customer,” you said winking at him. He choked and looked around to see if anyone was looking at his outburst.
“I’m kidding.. Sort of,” you trailed off. “But I mean it about you coming over. I’m going home now but I expect you there in an hour with drinks.”
With that you turned around and walked off, adding a little extra sway to your hips. Obviously that did the trick as you heard a small groan behind you. Spencer dropped his head back as he started wracking his brain to figure out how to live through the night without making a bigger fool of himself or cuming in his pants. 
_
You know maybe you were evil, you thought to yourself as you put on the finishing touches to your outfit for the night. Once you got home you sped into the shower to freshen up for him to come over and get your setup ready. You were wearing a cream colored strappy bodysuit. Over it was a large cardigan, almost resembling the maroon one he owned, strange. To top it off you were wearing your glasses and your legs were adorned with your favorite thigh high socks. 
The three knocks on the door instantly made a smirk appear on your face. This might just be one of your best schemes yet. Looking through the peephole you saw Spencer gnawing on his bottom lip holding a few bottles of soda. Taking a deep breath you opened the door greeting him with all the casualty in the world. 
“Hey! I’m glad you came, come in.”
He followed you in and tried to keep his eyes above your neck, trying to act like he wasn’t getting completely hard by just your outfit.  You sat down on your couch and patted it for him to sit next to you. He took the seat and gulped not really sure what you had planned. 
“Um how long for the pizza to get here?” 
“The pizza’s not coming Spence,” you said shaking your head. “But you are.”
You leaned forward to place your hand on his on the couch. “I want you to fuck me on camera Spencer,” you said with sweet confidence, fluttering your lashes. His eyes kept flashing between your cleavage showing through the cardigan and your lips before finally landing on your eyes. He didn’t see a single hint of humor in them, nothing transparent but lust. 
He pulled his hand from under yours to place in your hair, pulling you into a heated kiss. You pushed back on his chest a bit to try and get some air. 
“Save that magic for the show,” you said as you pulled him up to lead to your bedroom. 
The camera was set at a little bit of a lower angle. The audience would just be able to see you and at most Spencer’s chest. You had made sure it was fine and even turned it on as a test so he could see what he looked like. After you got everything out of the way you hit the button to go live and instantly people started flooding in. If the bulge in his pants told you anything, it was that he was excited to be on the other side of the screen this time. 
“Hello my angels!” you said into the camera, Spencer was taken back at what was going on. After months of lusting over the young intern he was finally seeing the show in person. 
“Today I have a special guest with me. My very good friend, the Doctor,” you took his hand to pull him into frame. “He’s very excited to be here,” you said, hand moving down to palm him through his pants. 
His hand reached out and wrapped around your throat, making you look up at him. Huh. This was a new Spencer you wouldn’t mind seeing more often.
“Let's not play games princess. Or else the only thing making you cum tonight are your pathetic little fingers. Am I clear?”
You shivered at the intensity of his voice instantly trying to nod the best you could within his grip. He let go and you went back to task at hand, undoing his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. He was long and pink. Precum already spilling out of the pretty tip, you couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth, among other places. You wasted no time in licking a broad stripe along a vein under it. His hand went to grab a handful of your hair giving it a testing tug as a warning to stop teasing. 
Your hand went to grip what couldn’t fit in your mouth but you tried your best to take him all in. You could hear the pings of tips and comments being said. Spencer could too and leaned over slightly to read them. 
“Face fuck her,” he murmured. He pulled you off of his cock and looked down into your eyes, “Is that what you want princess? Hm.” His thumb went to clean up the spit dripping down your chin before rubbing your lips. “You want me to fuck your face?”, he said in a condescendingly sweet voice. 
“Yes Doctor please! Fuck my throat.” 
“Good girl.”
Both his hands made their place nested in your hair, guiding you to his cock. He wasted no time in being brutal. Tears were leaking down your cheeks as he kept on hitting the back of your throat. Spencer was enjoying himself to the fullest letting out curses and praises at how good your mouth felt. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer and you could feel it too as he started to throb in your mouth. He then pulled you off, a trail of spit connected from your lips and his cock. 
“Such a dirty whore for me. Show everyone how messy I make you,” he took your head and made you turn to look in the camera. Comments pinged talking about how pretty you looked with mascara running and smudged lipstick. 
“Thank them and ask if you deserve to cum on my cock,” Who knew Spencer had this in him. But you were loving every second of it and put on your best pair of puppy dog eyes to beg the camera for Spencer to split you in half. And you had no shame in doing so. 
“Please let the Doctor fuck me. I’ve been such a good girl for you guys,” you pleaded into the camera. The audience was pleased with your begging as they said you deserved it for being so good. 
Spencer took his time in unbuttoning the cardigan you had on, teasingly rubbing your arms as he slipped it off. His hands then went to the bodice of it, groping your breasts and teasing your nipples through the fabric. 
“Ah shit doctor, please fuck me already.”
Who was he to deny you of such a thing when you asked so nicely. He pushed you back down on the silk sheets. Pulling you by your thighs to the end of the bed where he moved the thong of the bodysuit to the side and slid his cock up your folds. Lubricating it in your juices before slipping right in. You both gasped at the intrusion, his hands grabbing your hips with a force sure to leave bruises. He used the leverage to set a brutal pace, ramming his cock into you. 
Your ears were ringing from the pleasure but you could hear the constant pings of your tip box and comment section flooding. 
“Shit baby you’re so tight. Perfect little pussy squeezing me so good.” You babled off thank yous and whimpers from being so close to your climax.
 You felt Spencer stop for a second and reach over to grab something. Then you felt it. Your wand set to the highest setting placed on your clit as he started to thrust into you again. Sounds of your moans and skin slapping together filled the room along with the buzzing of the vibrator. You were sure there was going to be a noise complaint notice on your door in the morning. 
You were so close to having the bubble in your stomach burst and so was he. 
“I'm gonna cum Doctor,” you practically yelled. “Please cum inside me!”
“Cmon princess. Let me feel you let go.���
With that the knot broke and you swore you died and went to heaven. Your walls squeezing Spencer led him to his end a little after you. Thrusts faltering and groaning at the feeling of pleasure washing over him. He turned off the wand and put it to the side before slipping out of you. 
Looking into the camera you gasped at your appearance. Hair disheveled and face messy from crying in pleasure multiple times that night. Your mixed release leaking down your thigh and onto the sheets. 
There were non stop pings of people calling Spencer a lucky bastard and asking for him to come back next Friday. Spencer nodded his head over to your bathroom to get you guys something to clean up with and let you do your closing. 
“Thanks for the love tonight angels,” you said with a smile on your face, entirely blissed out. “As always the links are in the description and I’ll see you guys next Friday. Maybe I’ll talk to the Doctor about future appearances. Bye!” 
With that you fell back on your bed and closed your eyes. Your body jolted at a sudden coldness between your thighs. 
“Right sorry,” Spencer whispered.
“So where did that come from?” you looked at him with an eyebrow raised. 
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he stated seriously. 
You giggled and took his hand, “Thanks for doing this with me.”
“Of course. Now why don’t you shower while I get us a pizza. For real this time.”
“Or we can shower together then call the pizza.”
He contemplated it before smiling at you, “You always have the best ideas.” 
“Don’t I know it.. Doctor.”
2K notes · View notes
taetaespeaches · 3 years
Text
“And to think I called you a cooking genius.”
 namjoon x reader (oc) genre: fluff; one little suggestive moment word count: 3.1K
 a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s just a drabble where Joon and Daisy/reader are baking together and neither of them really know what they’re doing (though Daisy is less clueless than Joon). There is no reason for this to be 3,000 words but it is so enjoy lol. Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy! :))
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Holding back a grin, you searched the grocery bags piled on the kitchen counter, peeking inside them quietly as Namjoon stood nearby watching you.
“Did I get everything?” He asked tentatively, your smile breaking through as you looked up at his nervous expression.
“Did you get baking powder?” You asked him, the man’s eyes widening as he looked at the sacks.
“Isn’t it-” he started, making his way to the groceries and pulling out a box. “Right here, right?” He asked, holding up the box making you pout affectionately at him.
“Babe, that’s baking soda,” you broke the news to him, giggling as his eyes widened in surprise. “It’s ok,” you started as he set the box down and prepared to leave to correct his mistake.
“I’ll go get the powder. Powder,” he enunciated to himself as you grabbed his arm, holding him back from leaving the apartment.
“Joon, it’s fine,” you giggled. “I think we have some around here somewhere, we’re good.” Looking you up and down, he silently questioned you. “It’s fine,” you insisted, the man sighing in response.
“Why is cooking so hard?” He asked through a whine that made him sound about ten years younger than he was.
“We’re not cooking, we’re baking,” you chuckled lightly. “And we haven’t even started yet, you big baby.”
“Since when do you bake anyways?” He suddenly turned on you, giving you a playful glare.
“Excuse me, I know how to do some things,” you countered, though the tone of your voice lacked the confidence you were trying to portray, and from the questioningly stare he gave you, you could tell he picked up on your little faith in your abilities. “What? I’ve baked before.”
“When? With your mom when you were five?” He teased, you cocking your head at him in feigned annoyance.
“Yes, actually, and what about it?” You pressed sassily. “So what if I was five, I have a good memory, are you going to question my memory? Did you already forget that you don’t know the difference between baking powder and baking soda? Do we need to revisit that little moment?” You ranted, making a move to grab the box of baking soda, only for the man to chuckle as he grabbed your wrist, halting your motions. However, your restricted movements did nothing to stop your mouth as you continued to playfully scold him. “I may not have a lot of experience with cooking and baking but at least I know the difference between baking-” He cut you off by pushing his lips to yours, you groaning against his mouth though your hands grasped onto his biceps as if you were holding him in place, not wanting him to break contact.
“I’m sorry, you’re right,” he relented, his move away from your lips making you whine quietly. “You’re a cooking genius and I’m an idiot who doesn’t know the difference between baking soda and powder.” He grinned that dimply smile at you, making you have to hide your amusement behind a glare.
“I’m glad you know,” you nodded, Namjoon squeezing his eyes shut as he laughed at your stubbornness. He dropped your wrist, though neither of you moved further, staring at each other. “I wasn’t done kissing you, you know.”
“Oh is that so?” He asked with a cocky smirk, the expression both annoying and ridiculously attractive.
“Mhmm.” Appreciating the fullness of his muscles under your fingertips, you hummed, your eyes drinking in the way they filled the t-shirt sleeves. “These are really nice,” you complimented, Namjoon’s smile spreading as he ducked his head slightly in embarrassment.
A light chuckle left his lips, your gaze slowly meeting his own, a smile growing on your face. With a small nod, his dimples on display for your orbs to feast on, he whispered a small, “thanks.”
“You’re fucking ripped,” you teased, though you genuinely were impressed with the size of his arms. He had been hitting the gym regularly, and it showed.
“Ok that’s enough, let’s just- get to baking,” he told you through his smile, shaking his head as your eyes widened.
“I’m being serious,” you insisted as he brought his face closer to yours to leave a light kiss to your lips.
“Mmm,” he hummed against your lips. “Let’s just make these cupcakes.”
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As you explained what you were doing to Namjoon, cracking an egg into the mixture, you swore you could see the confusion swirling around his head through the dazed look in his eyes.
“I’m gonna have you crack the second egg.” The comment received no response, your lips quirking upwards just slightly. “Joon,” you called out, the man blinking quickly as he looked at you with wide eyes, almost like a deer caught in headlights. “Are you even paying attention?” You giggled, a guilty grin overtaking his features.
“I was trying, you’re just so pretty,” he complimented with a smile, you rolling your eyes with a scoff.
“Break this egg, ok? Just be careful of the sh-”
As soon as you handed him the egg, the man dove right in, in an attempt to prove he was indeed paying attention. Within a second, cutting your words off, he smashed the egg against the side of the bowl. Staring at his hands in disbelief, you watched as the egg yolk somehow slid down the outside of the bowl and plopped against the counter, breaking upon impact.
“Whoops,” he said guiltily, a giggle leaving you as your gaze caught half of the egg shell shattered in the mixture. “Can we start over?” He asked, you throwing your head back with an inhale, just before bursting into laughter.
“We used all of the baking powder in this mixture,” you informed him, Namjoon smiling, still looking as guilty as he was. The man grabbed a spoon quickly, attempting to fish out the pieces of shell, but ultimately shoving them further into the various dry ingredients.
“Joonie,” you whined, dragging his name out. “You’re making it worse.”
“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, dropping the spoon in defeat. “Hang on, let me look up a substitute for baking powder. We will make these cupcakes,” he announced with unfounded confidence.  
Grabbing his phone, you watched in amusement as his focused gaze scanned the device screen as he read over baking powder substitutes. He was really adorable, and he really wasn’t told that enough.
“This says baking powder has baking soda in it so we can use it as a substitute,” he announced, holding the phone up for you to see, the excitement in his orbs making him look youthful. Again, adorable. “We just use a little bit less of the baking soda.”
Looking at him skeptically, you leaned in toward the phone, glancing at the article. With a sigh you shrugged, Namjoon smiling in victory as he locked the phone and tucked it into his pocket.
“I thought since you knew the differences between baking soda and powder you would know the similarities too, Daisy,” he teased, causing you to instantly glare at him. “And to think I called you a cooking genius,” he tsked, a smirk forming on your lips.
“I already told you, this is baking,” you corrected him just as he wrapped an arm around your waist, his hand finding purchase on your lower back. Bringing his lips to your temple, he left a light kiss to the spot, you instinctively leaning into his touch.
“Same difference,” he mumbled against your skin, his warm breath upon your temple making you turn your face toward his.
“It’s really not though, cooking is-” he interrupted you with his lips on yours, and if you weren’t so fond of kissing him, you would have scolded him for cutting your words. Instead, since you were rather keen on his lips, you stepped even closer to him, draping your arms over his shoulders, your fingers instantly toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“You know, you’re getting awfully cocky for someone who just smashed egg shells into the first mixture, Dimples,” you reminded him against his mouth, Namjoon laughing in amusement.
“Ok, point taken,” he agreed, shifting his attention to the ingredients lined up.
“I’ll handle the eggs this time, you just be ready to put those muscles to work when it comes time to mix,” you glanced at his arms, a bashful smile overtaking his features.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kissing him softly once more, you latched your eyes on his. “You’re adorable, by the way.” Seeing how his cheeks tinted pink as he beamed, surprise evident in his smile and gaze, you buckled down on your compliment. “Really adorable.”
Pulling you into a tight hug to hide his features, he mumbled against your hair, “thank you.” A moment went by before he added, “stop embarrassing me,” both of you giggling at his bashful state.
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Surprisingly, the second go at the batter went surprisingly well. You cracked the eggs, only one piece of shell landing in the bowl which you easily removed, and Namjoon’s biceps did wonders on mixing everything together. As the cupcakes baked, you worked on the frosting, which even that turned out somewhat decent; a little runny, but it would do.
“I would say it’s a success,” you commented as you licked a bit of frosting off your finger. Namjoon looked at you with big eyes before dipping his own finger into the bowl to snag a taste for himself. You watched as he brought his finger to his lips, the sight maybe, just possibly getting you a little too worked up for 2 pm.
He hummed in satisfaction, nodding at you. “It’s good!”
“It’s shocking to me that you don’t understand your effect on people,” you told him seemingly out of thin air, his eyebrows raising as you stared at his lips. He studied you for a moment until he caught on, a smirk curving on his mouth, you groaning.
“Did that do something for you, Daisy?” He teased, you biting your bottom lip to hold back a smile.
“Stop,” you giggled just as Namjoon stepped toward you, securing his arms around your waist as his opposite hand went for the frosting once again. Scooping up a dollop of the sweet mixture, he brought it to your lips.
No words were spoken, your eyes locked on each other’s as you opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around the digit. His jaw tightened as your tongue swirled around his finger, just before you released it with a pop, a smirk forming on your lips, Namjoon mimicking the expression.
His hand quickly moved to hold the side of your face, his mouth landing against yours in an instant, the kiss needy and hungry, messy and passionate. Your backend was soon pressed up against the counter as his hand around your waist slid under the material of your top to grasp at the flesh of your hip. You moaned into his mouth, the man smirking just slightly.
And then the oven beeped. You groaned in frustration, Namjoon breaking the kiss with a chuckle, resting his forehead against yours.
“I’m tempted to ignore them,” he chuckled, you giggling as you shoved him away from you playfully, turning to the oven.
Opening the door, you gasped in surprise, Namjoon’s intrigue piquing as he peered around your frame to look at the cupcakes. “Oh wow,” he breathed out as you set the cupcake tray on top of the oven, both of you staring at them in shock with how nice they turned out.
They looked great, with perfectly rounded tops. Tapping against the top of one, it felt as though it was light and moist.
“We have to let them cool before we can frost them,” you said, Namjoon humming from behind you.
“What if we just frosted one to try it out?” He suggested, you cocking your head as you stared at the cupcakes. Silently agreeing, you reached for the bowl of frosting and started coating one of the cupcakes with it.
Lifting it from the pan, you lowered the cupcake lining which surprisingly pulled from the pastry quite nicely. As you took a bite of the cupcake, Namjoon wrapped his arms around you in a back hug. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he opened his mouth for a taste as you chewed your own bite. Bringing the cupcake to his lips, the man took a bite just as a weird taste settled on your tongue.
“Um,” you said, Namjoon chewing, not yet experiencing the flavor you were. Cringing suddenly, you pulled a face of disgust. “Why does it taste like-” you thought for a moment, trying to place the taste.
The man let out a sound of distaste, you turning to look at him. “Soap,” he decided for you just before darting away from you to the trash can as you frantically searched for a place to spit it out. Within another second, Namjoon was hauling the bin to you for you to get rid of the rank pastry.
“Where did we go wrong?” He complained as you grabbed your water bottle, washing down the taste.
“I bet it was the baking soda,” you settled, handing Namjoon the bottle.
“It wasn’t the baking soda,” he insisted just before gulping down half the water.
Shooting him a knowing look, you cocked your head. “Let me see that article,” you insisted, a small smirk on your lips as he handed over his phone, allowing you to unlock it and read through the article he had found that outlined the differences and similarities between baking soda and powder.
Coming up behind you again to read over the article with you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, once again positioning his chin on your shoulder.
You scanned the article quickly, seeing where Namjoon read that the two substances could be used as substitutes for each other. However, not without other adjustments you realized as you continued reading.
“Too much baking soda will leave a metallic-soapy taste in the baked good,” you read from the article, Namjoon’s lips finding your shoulder as he left a sweet kiss, trying to distract you from his mistake. “Namjoon!”
“What?” He played dumb, you scoffing in response. His mouth settled against your cheek, leaving random small pecks to the plushness.
“The soda is stronger than the powder so you’re supposed to up the acid to balance it out. Therefore, it’s because of the baking soda,” you complained, lightly nudging him in the abdomen with your elbow.
“Ouch,” he teased, smiling against your cheek before kissing the spot a few more times quickly. “Ok, so this is all my fault,” he admitted, both of you laughing in amusement.
“At least they look somewhat cute,” you bargained, cocking your head at the, well, presentable cupcakes.
“Maybe we should take cooking lessons,” he suggested.
Resting your head back against his shoulder, you looked at his face, appreciating the beauty of his features. “For the last time, this is baking,” you reminded him with a smirk, Namjoon playfully rolling his eyes. “And maybe we should,” you giggled.
“I could look some classes up,” he told you, leaning toward you to leave a kiss to your nose.
“That chef will never know what hit them,” you smiled, Namjoon lightly chuckling as he softly kissed your lips. “I kind of want to tell your fans about this,” you mumbled against his mouth.  
“Don’t you dare,” he glared at you, though the amusement circling his gaze told you he wasn’t really that upset by the idea.
“But I want to,” you continued, the man suddenly spinning you around and wrapping you up in his arms.
“You better not,” he mumbled against your neck just before his fingers found your waist, tickling the sides, causing you to squeal and squirm in his grip.
“Joon,” you complained through your laughter, Namjoon relenting as he hugged you to his broad frame, pressing kisses to the side of your forehead and against your hair. “I just think they should know their leader doesn’t know the difference between baking soda and powder,” you continued teasing him, the man groaning as he looked at your face, appreciating the smile you wore in utter fondness for the man.
“They already know I can’t cook,” he chuckled, you giggling along with him.
“This is baking though,” you reminded him, once again, Namjoon sighing as he wrapped his arms around your head, kissing your forehead.
“I’m sure they know I can’t do that either,” he chuckled against your skin, you laughing fondly as you squeezed your arms around his waist.
“Actually, you know what,” you started, Namjoon locking his eyes on yours. “They look somewhat decent, you could post a photo and pretend they tasted amazing,” you suggested, Namjoon’s eyes widening as if you really came up with something great there.
“Hang on, that’s so smart,” he beamed. “You really are a genius.” The compliment was soon followed by a big smooch against your mouth just before he released you from his hold and grabbed the frosting.
And as he frosted the cupcakes, taking a photo of the finished product to post later, you couldn’t help but watch him, absolutely smitten with the man. He was unbelievably adorable, and you made a note right then and there to remind him of that often.
When he turned to look at you with a wide beam, you shook your head at him. “Adorable,” you told him, the man chuckling as he pulled into yet another hug.
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Later that night, as Namjoon checked the notifications on his photo that he proudly captioned “I can bake now”, a smile curved on his lips at the comment made by one of his fellow bandmates.
“I heard they tasted like soap,” the comment noted, Namjoon looking to the bathroom where you were getting ready for bed. Hurrying to find you, he appeared in the doorway, you shooting him a wide-eyed look in the mirror.
“Daisy,” he whined childishly; adorably.
“What?” You asked, holding back a fond and knowing smile as to not disturb the face mask covering your features.
Holding up his phone at you, he huffed. “Who did you tell about the cupcakes? Was it Jungkook?”
Tossing your head back in laughter, saying fuck it to the face mask, Namjoon shook his head, an amused grin spread across his face.
“It was actually Jin,” you giggled, Namjoon stepping toward you as he chuckled.
“You’re so mean to me,” he complained, wrapping his arms around you and leaving a kiss to the top of your head.
“I’m keeping you honest and humble,” you insisted teasingly, smiling adoringly at your boyfriend as he leaned forward, catching your lips in a sweet kiss, a bit of the mask transferring to his face. “You’re so adorable,” you told him again, wiping the mask residue from his chin and cheek. 
He flashed you a stunning grin, his dimples on display for you, and in that moment, just like all moments, he was everything that mattered. Bad baking skills and all.
179 notes · View notes
sweetestlamb · 3 years
Text
You’ve Got a Friend in Me
Summary: You deserve to be my brother. 
Author’s Note: I won’t go on a rant here many of you have already done so and much more eloquently than I can, Han Seo deserved to live and I think it would have been so much more original and refreshing if they didn’t kill the victimized character who was finally getting a second lease on life with his new family. If any of you read BMTL you know that I have a weak spot for abused characters and when they are treated this way I can’t stand for it. So join me here in this alternate reality where puppy does not die and instead he gets the love and rebirth that he deserves. 
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Everything is white hot pain, and he wonders if this is what death feels like and if so why must this suffering follow him even into death? When will he finally be free from agony if not now? There are a flurry of sounds surrounding him but nothing decipherable until he hears, “Clear!” a voice shouts in the distance but he doesn’t know who that is, where exactly would someone like him go after death? Surely he hasn’t atoned enough for his sin of compliance to be granted a passage to pearly gates or a gracious omnipresent presence, there is only one place for someone like him. Hell. 
It doesn’t scare him, not with the life that he has lived. His hell started a long time ago, with a father that couldn’t be bothered with him no matter how many bruises and cuts littered his prepubescent body. Those very marks put there by the one person he desperately wanted to please, his hyung. That has been hell, a long enduring and never-ending hell and almost demonically poetic that was the cause of his very demise. The bullet through his ribs was nothing compared to every day of his life, up until he met Vincenzo and saw what living was supposed to be like. He had never truly lived before and the very moment he had started that had been snatched from his bloody hands. 
Fuck it all. He was ready to go. 
But regardless of his acceptance the pain sears on and he can see the ghastly face of Vincenzo peering down at him, eyes red rimmed and those words that he had longed to hear since he was born into his world and realized that there was someone whom he was supposed to call brother. 
You deserve to be my brother. 
“We’re losing him! Let’s do it again, clear!” 
Electricity floods his body and its nothing like anything he has ever felt before and he can feel his consciousness fading away, his thoughts drifting away until there is nothing left behind, just silence and regrets. 
Beep...Beep....Beep....Beep.... 
The constant sound jars him from his slumber and once again pain resurges in his body winding him before he can even bring himself to peel his heavy eyelids open, that battle almost enough to defeat him but he can feel a presence beside him and an unexplainable desperation forces him to see who it is. It feels like his very life depends on it. 
Little by little, he starts to peer his eyes open feeling the strain as he tenses and squirms under the pressure and finally they are open and his vision swirls unfocused and dizzy, staring at a painfully white ceiling and one single yellow tinted light. His brain supplies his location, the hospital. And then it takes a longer moment to realize the implications of his whereabouts, but after a moment’s pause he gasps feeling the dryness of his tongue and the cracks on his lips. Everything hurts, every fiber of his being is in insufferable agony but he almost weeps because that only means he’s alive. Somehow he had survived. 
With the minor strength he has he turns his head towards the figure next to him and his breath comes out in a shocked huff when he sees the dark figure in the chair, they had said their final goodbyes already and he had accepted that the only true brother that he’d had was taken from him, punishment for being born in this family. Yet, Vincenzo sits there sleeping looking pained even in his slumber a grimace across his face and his brows furrowed in distress. immediately he thinks about Ms. Hong, the blood staining her shirt and her body crumpling to the ground as she took a bullet for the man she loved. If Vincenzo was here with him looking like that did that mean she was...? 
No. It couldn’t be. His brother had already taken away Vincenzo’s mother he couldn’t have stolen the woman he loved too. That was simply too cruel a fate for the man. But why else would the man be here? This thought drives him to move, only able to move his hand but it’s enough to knock the consigliere from his peace less rest, he wakes as if he was not sleeping in the first place eyes immediately blinking open and hyper focused. He vaguely wonders if that is a survival skill of all members of the Mafia? 
They stare wordlessly at each other and before he can say a word Vincenzo is reaching across the small space and embracing him, his arms are ever gentle as they pull him in and his head is stuffed into the other man’s neck. He lays frozen unprepared for the sudden show of affection and still not used to hands on his body without the purpose of harming him but then his brain swirls to life and he pushes past the pain to reach up and clutch at the smooth material of Vincenzo’s suit jacket. At the first press of his fingers the other man grips him tighter, almost crushing him into his chest and it hurts, puts too much pressure on his wound but he won’t say anything doesn’t dare. This is the first time someone has hurt him because they cared about him. He wants to hold on to this precious moment forever. 
“I’m so happy you’re okay. You lost so much blood and I really thought--” 
“How’s Miss Hong? She is....Is that why you’re here? Please don’t tell me he really did it...Did he really kill her?” 
He starts shaking at the notion, tears pooling in his eyes imagining the woman’s dead cold body. 
It should have been me instead. 
As carefully he held him Vincenzo releases him, those large gentle hands warm and soothing on his trembling shoulders. 
“She’s fine. She’s in the room next to you. It’s all thanks to you, I can never thank you enough.”
Relief washes over him like a wave, he’s too weak to do anything but fall back into the plush bed beneath him. 
She was okay. Thank goodness. 
“What are you doing here? You should be with her. Go now, I’m not as important.” He means every word, he has never been anyone’s priority, no that’s for others he is nothing more than a nuisance and a punching bag. 
“What are you saying? Do you remember what I said to you before you fainted?
He does. How could he forget? But that was merely something said in the heat of the moment. Or so he had thought but that thought was enough for him to welcome the hands of death. 
“I see you remember. You are important to me. You’re my brother Han Seo-ah.” 
He can’t fight the smile that tentatively crawls across his face, “You meant it? it wasn’t just because I was dying?” He asks sheepishly and he squeaks in pain when a finger flicks his across the nose, looking up affronted but giddy with the possibilities. 
“I wouldn’t lie to someone on their death bed, I have principles you know.” Vincenzo huffs at him, striding across the room to pour a glass of water and he watches the liquid earnestly. When the older man pushes the tempting beverage in his direction he desperately wants to grab it but he finds that he can’t his body refusing to move. 
“Can you help me drink it?” He watches the older man stare back at him, an eyebrow raised as he looks at him and peers back helplessly, “Please Hyung,” and surprisingly enough that’s all it takes for the Vincenzo to carefully cup his head and tilt the glass on his mouth, allowing the glorious nectar to soothe his parched throat. A dribble leaks out of the side of his mouth and he’s further floored when the other man wipes it away with a napkin, guiding him back against his pillows. 
He tries to school his face into something less pathethic and pitiful but he knows that he’s not doing a great job, he can’t help it there has never been anyone like this for him. Never anyone who cared about him as Han Seo, not a pawn or someone to use or abuse, it’d enough to make everything he has gone through worth while. 
He can’t contain his joy watching his brother tug up his sheet and tell him to get some rest, he’s never fallen asleep so easily and without a care in the world. He has nothing to fear, now that he has Vincenzo. 
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He gets more visitors. 
People from the plaza that used to look at him with distrustful eyes, now they bring him food and one time when he needs to use the bathroom the lady from the pawnshop singlehandedly lifts him and carries him to the toilet, his cheeks hurt from blushing and he makes everyone in the room promise to never mention it again. 
They mention it at least four times a visit. 
Sometimes even re-enacting it for the people who weren’t there on the day. 
Ms. Hong laughs the loudly, ignoring Vincenzo’s helicoptering and warnings of her opening her wound, none of it stops her and he watches with soft eyes as the woman easily rests her head on his shoulder when she starts to feel lightheaded. 
They are so sickening obvious sometimes. 
He gets used to the company so days later when he finds himself alone, his insecurities rear their ugly heads. Telling him that they’ve forgotten him and they were only being kind because of Vincenzo and Ms. Hong, they didn’t really care about him or like him and those thoughts muffle his awareness preventing him from hearing the door slide open or the almost unperceivable footsteps that follow. 
“You look better than I expected.” 
He freezes at the voice, staring at his fingers because he’s not yet ready to face her. 
He tried not to notice that she never came with the others, but that was futile and the hole in his chest stretched wider and wider each time they would show up and her glowing figure was missing. 
“Did you hurt your mouth?” 
He smarts at the comment, hurt by her seemingly dismissive attitude to him laying in a hospital bed. 
“Like you care. You never visited before.” 
Instantly he regrets the comment, she owes him nothing. They are nothing after all, barely even acquaintances. This crush is unrequited and he has no right taking out his frustrations on her, he was being too greedy. 
He opens his mouth to apologize. 
“I....... don’t like hospitals. They feel too much like the end.” 
He stills at her chilling words, mouth slightly gaped. 
Was she worried about him? Enough so that seeing him in a hospital bed was too jarring? 
That couldn’t be it. 
Could it? 
“I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier. I always asked about you.” 
A frown is etched into her pretty face and he can’t stand it so much that he blurts out, “ The pawn shop lady carried me to the bathroom once! I have never been so embarrassed, why is she so strong?!” 
She stares at him blankly before a beatific smile dances across her pale pink lips, and he hears her laughter for the first time. 
It is melodic, like keys ringing on a piano and the sound is captivating enough to fill his entire room and he wishes he could bottle it up and listen to it whenever he wanted to. 
She stays. 
Longer than he expected and he tries not to smile too large but it’s hard when she’s shooting him that contagious smile. They watch game shows on a laptop that she pulls out of thin air and he laughs nervously as she explains how she once hacked and ruined the life of a man who wouldn’t take no for an answer when she was a waitress at a bar. 
She’s scary, like most people at the plaza but he’s dangerously attracted to her like a fly to a light. 
He doesn’t recall falling asleep but he mumbles contentedly when he feels her tuck the blanket tighter around his body, soft deft fingers running across his fringe before he succumbs to the pull of unconsciousness. 
“Good night puppy.” 
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He doesn’t mean to overhear, wasn’t trying to eavesdrop at all but he saw the light on in Miss Hong’s room and immediately the worst came to mind. 
Han Seok is here to finish the job. 
So he races to the door, ready to defend her by any means even if that means putting his life at risk, again. His hand is on the door knob twisting and silently he pushes the door open, stepping in before realizing there is no danger. 
At least not to them, he can’t say the same for the victims of his brother. 
Vincenzo looks tired, achingly so. 
He feels a pang in his own chest watching the sunken face of the other man as he watches Miss Hong, her eyelashes fluttering wildly in her sleep. He makes to exit the room but the low rumble of Vincenzo’s voice halts him in his track, he has never heard the other man sound so forlorn. 
“This is all my fault. You would have been safe if you never met me.” 
He blinks, taken back at the heartbreaking confession. 
Did Vincenzo truly believe that? That they would have been safer without him? It’s the biggest lie he’s ever heard and he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from responding to the fallacy. 
“You deserve better than me. I am a scum and you....you’re different Cha-young ah.” 
He has never heard the older man call her that before. 
“I should just disappear out of your life, that’s the best gift I could give to you. Leaving you alone and letting you live your life.” 
No. He wants to scream listening to this and he realizes that these words remind him of someone, someone who has had all these thoughts before. 
I am useless. Nobody wants me. It would be better if I disappeared. 
Vincenzo sounds like all of his darkest thoughts, said aloud. He has to grip the door to stop himself from running over to the man and pulling him into a tight hug. He can feel his pain all the way across the room. 
“That would be best for you. But I can’t,” his voice cracks, “Every time I think about leaving you, it hurts. It hurts Cha-young. I want to stay with you. I want to be the one who makes you smile,” He watches his brother gently pick up her limp hand, sandwiching it between both of his. It’s such a tender moment, he should leave. 
“Everyone I loves dies, that’s my fate. My punishment. I had accepted that...before you and Han Seo and my...mom. Now I’m greedy and I don’t want to lose anyone. I don’t want to lose you, please...stay with me.” Vincenzo crumples at the side of the bed, his ungelled hair blocking his eyes now as he lays his head on Ms. Hong’s hand pleading with her and finally he pulls the door open and steps back into the hallway, he doesn’t realize he’s crying until he slips back into his bed. 
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When the knock sounds at his door, he calls out with no idea of who could be visiting him, a certain pretty pianist flashes in his mind but he pushes that desire to the back of his mind. 
He sits up at the sight of Ms. Hong shakily entering his room, Vincenzo’s disapproving face flashing in his mind. 
“Ms. Hong you shouldn’t be moving around, hyung would be upset if he saw you.” 
She stares at him with wide eyes and he stares back placidly before realizing what he just said. He slaps a hand over his mouth, remorseful and ashamed. He has never called Vincenzo that in front of anyone else, too embarrassed to see the question on their face and terrified that the other man would deny him in front of others. Maybe Vincenzo wanted to keep this as a secret? Why would he want a needy idiot like him following him around and embarrassing him? His cheeks burn and he brings his gaze to the floor. 
“Don’t. Whatever you’re thinking stop. He calls you his brother too, you are brothers now. Don’t doubt that Vincenzo always keeps his word.” 
He feels naked beneath her stare, shocked at how easily she can see through him. Was he really that obvious? 
“I wanted to talk to you.” 
He gulps nervously, watching at the older women wobbles across the room before gracelessly falling into the chair beside his bed, he reaches out to help her smiling back when she grins at him, he tries not to blush when she pats his cheek in gratitude, the movement all too motherly. 
“What did I do wrong?” He replies, and there is deafening silence before she answers, “You poor thing. Life must have been so hard before, you must have struggled so much.” 
He is completely and utterly unprepared for the words and he cannot stop the tears that well up and collapse at her genuine concern. 
“It's okay. You have us now and we’ll never let him hurt you again.” 
He cries, harder than he ever has before. Longer than he has ever allowed himself to cry, he cries for his youth, for his innocence, for the young Han Seo who just wanted to be loved. His body shakes from the tremors of his sorrow, liquid pain streaming down his face. 
“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve any of it. You did well, you did so well. I am so proud of you.” 
When she runs a tentative hand across his brow, he chokes on his tears sinking deeper into the bed. 
“I wanted you to know that you are my family too. You saved us both and I can never thank you enough, I would be honored if you considered me a sister too.” 
He lays in disbelief, unable to fathom how he has gained a brother and a sister in such a short expanse of time. There are no words, he nods quickly. Letting his tears continue to fall. 
She lets him cry, a serene smile on her face as he shakes apart in front of her. Softly whispering, “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.” Over and over again, tattooing it into his skin.
Words he has never heard before. 
Words he has longed for all his life. 
Time ticks by and before he knows it, it is nearing midnight. They had simply sat together in solace for hours. 
“You should go get some rest,” he states quietly and for once she doesn’t argue nodding in agreement before squeezing his hand and standing up, only a little wobbly this time. 
“You too. Sleep well Han Seo-ah.” He nods, watching her retreating form as she nears the door and impulsively he calls out, “Noona!” and it feels strange on his tongue, even newer than hyung but his heart warms at the brilliant smile she sends his way, turning back at his outcry, “Hmm?” she replies tilting her head curiously at him. 
“You know don’t you?” 
She stares, head tilting further and he knows she knows exactly what he means. 
“You weren’t sleeping. You heard everything.” 
She doesn’t bother looking surprised, he’s grateful for the lack of charades. 
“You know how he feels. You feel the same. Why won’t you confront him?” 
She stares at the ceiling before locking eyes with him again, “He’s been hurt before, he had a brother once before you know. He tried to kill him.” 
He didn’t know. it’s too familiar. It's the last thing he wished they had in common. 
“He doesn’t let people in because it’s too scary when they leave. You two aren’t so different, he just does a better job of hiding it.” 
He has no comment, there are so many different layers to Vincenzo and he doubts he will never truly understand the enigmatic man. 
“So this is enough for you? You don’t want more?” 
He thinks of Miri and all the baggage that he’s carrying, he has no right to place that on her. It’s better if he stops this thing before it starts right? He has no idea what he can give to another person, is he even capable of love? 
“Yes. This is enough. He is enough, every moment with him is enough.” 
The wind stutters from his lungs, this is the second time he has heard a confession meant for another. 
“What about me? Do you think I can be enough for someone too? Could I someday find someone who cares for me like you care for hyung?” He doesn’t know what has come over him but he waits anxiously for her response, every atom of his body shivering in anticipation. 
“Silly boy,” his heart drops, “You already have someone like that. She comes to see you everyday even though she’s terrified of hospitals.”
“Wha--what?” He stutters out feeling all the blood race to his face, she only smiles broadly in reply mimicking fingers dancing across a piano before sauntering out of his room with a loud chuckle. 
This isn’t over yet. Han Seok is still at large and more people could get hurt but he has never felt safer in his life. He has a family now, one that he fought for with more passion that he thought he had and he has no plans of letting that go, for anyone. 
150 notes · View notes
faulty-writes · 3 years
Note
Me: sees thine holy writing: (°▽°)
Sees that you write lots for tenya: (^○^)
Me remembering that I’m a tenya simp: (*゚∀゚*)
Haha, something to cheer you day up ^-^
But can you write the most fluffiest fanfic for iida? Much thank
A fluffy fic you say? Well, this is what I present to you! Mainly inspired by this gif, interesting what gives you inspiration. But I hope you enjoy this, I tried to make it fluffy.
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[ Tenya was normally attentive to those that needed it, however when you get a cut on your finger and Tenya insists he patch it up for you. Things get a little strange when you request a few more things from him. ]
A cough escapes as the dirt continues to float around you, your hero suit was covered in debris and a soft ache coursed through your shoulder. More than likely because you landed on it when you tried to outmaneuver the turbo hero, Ingenium.
But, most of the time you knew him as Tenya Iida. Class A had come to a mutual agreement to take part in extra training and had been granted permission to use Ground Omega by your teacher Shota Aizawa, but it seemed the training backfired.
“Y/n!” Tenya’s urgent voice came as you cradled your hand to your chest, but you held your index finger out. A bloody cut, about an inch or so, ran down the tip of your finger. Small droplets of red soaked into the ground below you and moments later, you felt a gust of wind.
It carried your hair and another cloud of dirt which made you turn your head and cough yet again. “Ah,” Tenya looked at you from behind the eyepiece of his helmet before he removed it completely, deciding to allow it to hang from the side of his hip instead.
His glasses were slightly tilted on the bridge of his nose, but that didn’t stop him from scanning you from head to toe. His arms were held up and bent slightly, fingers separated in a panic. Then a moment later, he dropped to his knees and began chopping his hand through the air.
“Y/n! Are you alright? My sincerest apologies!” his voice was slightly frantic as he begins to bow repeatedly and you couldn’t do much but look at him with slight amusement. Tenya always took things too seriously and it was humorous, but most of the time unnecessary.
It wasn’t right to expect one person to carry the consequence of other's actions or even their own, to some extent. But Tenya seemed to feel guilt over the smallest of things, including what had gone wrong during the training exercise and, “Y/n! Your finger!” Uraraka’s voice suddenly cut through the air.
“Huh?” you blinked and turned to look at her, Izuku was by her side and Eijirou next to him. “Hey, uh...do you need to see Recovery Girl?” the redhead questioned before letting out a wince as Katsuki smacked him in the back of the head.
“Shut the hell up!” the furious blond exclaimed before stomping his foot and placing his gloved hands on his hips. He turned to you, eyes narrowing on your finger. “Pff,” he then turned to walk away, “the extra is fine! Now come on! We’re here to train, damn it!” he growled through clenched teeth before using his quirk to blast off the ground.
“Hey wait!” Eijirou called after him, raising one of his hands in the air as if he could touch Katsuki before he stopped short. “Uh,” he looked between you, Tenya, Izuku, and Uraraka. “Sorry! I’ll catch you all later!” he said before he resumed running out of sight.
Uraraka frowned and turned to Izuku who stepped forward as Tenya focused his attention back on you. A gasp came when he noticed the state of your finger, “Y/n, may I…” he hesitated as he motioned to your hand. “Oh,” you looked at your cut before nodding and holding it out for him.
He grasped your wrist gently and was careful to avoid touching the cut as he held your finger between two of his own. “Hm, I see,” he released your hand and reached up to push his glasses back into place before standing on his feet.
“Midoriya, Ochako,” he said, effectively catching their attention. “I’m going to take Y/n back to the dormitory building, their cut doesn’t look too serious. However, I’d rather take precautionary measures to ensure it does not become infected or is otherwise untreated,” he placed his hands on his hips.
“Is that acceptable to the two of you?” he questioned and Izuku nodded. “Of course, it is! You’re such a good friend Iida, take care of them well!” Uraraka said with a smile. “Yeah, and it’s alright i-if...you don’t make it back to training. It’s only...practice after all,” Izuku confirmed before he looked at you.
“If you um, ever want to practice training again. I’m sure we can organize something,” he said and you smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you replied before watching the two of them walk away. “Iida, you don’t have to take care of my cut,” you knew that was rude to say considering Tenya seemed stern in his new objective to do exactly that.
You didn't bother looking at him, or his reaction to your words. Rather your attention was on the red liquid that still poured from the cut. “Forgive me, but I disagree.” he crossed his arms over his chest, a present frown now on his lips.
“It is my fault that you got injured, though be it a small cut. I take full responsibility and I will make this fault up to you,” he spoke proudly and his voice slightly deepened which caused a shiver to run down your spine. You glanced away hoping to hide your flushed expression.
There was always something about Tenya when he spoke in a certain tone, maybe you found it attractive. But you’d never tell him that. “Please allow me to carry you,” your head shot back in his direction. “W-What?” you questioned, clearly dumbfounded especially when you saw him smile.
Once more, he brought his hand up. Pressing his fingers against the metal plate of his suit. “Forgive me, perhaps that question is rather shocking and inappropriate without proper permission, allow me to make my intentions clear,” he said before bringing his hands to his sides.
“Will you please allow me permission to carry you to the Class A dormitory building?” he asked, his voice deepening once more and you felt your mouth get slightly dry. “Uh…” you swallowed hard, “I guess...you can,” you replied sheepishly and that’s all the confirmation Tenya needed.
Before you could register what was happening, you felt one arm brace the back of your knees and another pressing firmly across your shoulder blades. A squeak escaped when you realized you were being lifted and your arms snaked around Tenya’s neck, taking a firm grip.
“Apologies, I do not mean to frighten you. But please know, I would never drop nor purposely hurt you. You are safe within my arms,” he stated as he looked at you. “Hm!?” your reaction wasn’t exactly voluntary and neither was the pink-tinted color coming to your cheeks which Tenya noticed.
“Are you alright? Do you feel ill!?” he questioned in a frantic manner, leaning dangerously close to you. “I...I-I’m fine!” you managed to squeak out which caused Tenya to narrow his eyes. “Are you certa-” you interrupted him by nodding your head, but you knew he didn’t believe you.
Still, you were relieved when he finally leaned away. Giving you a chance to breathe, the dull ache from your finger somewhat brings you back to reality along with the rumbling sound of Tenya’s engines. “Please hold on tight, I will not drop you as your safety is my number one concern as of this moment,” he reassured you, completely oblivious to the fact he was making your heart race.
But that changed the moment he kicked off the ground and your world blurred. The wind felt as though it were piercing right through you and your hair whipped around violently. It was a little pathetic, but you found yourself curling into Tenya.
Partly trying to block the wind from affecting you while your stomach continued to twist slightly, unused to the high speeds Tenya could reach. While it felt like moments had passed by, in a matter of seconds you were closing in on the dormitory building.
The wind got less intense as Tenya slowed down and you lifted your head to look at him, listening to those soft pants that left his mouth. “Tenya…?” you questioned, and watched as he turned his attention on you.
“Hm, yes?” he responded, those soft pants of his continuing to fill the air. “Oh...um nothing,” you said before deciding to focus on the front porch of the dormitory instead. But, you should have known better. ‘Nothing’ wasn’t an answer that could or would satisfy Tenya.
“Are you most certain? You do not have to be afraid to ask a question even if the subject of which concerns me, you, or something unrelated," he began, once more dropping down to that serious tone of his.
"I am more than happy to provide an answer as your classmate, class president, and dear friend,” you felt your heart sink as he began to slowly walk up the stairs, and with each step, you could feel the pressure of his fingertips digging into the skin of your shoulder.
“I know…” you replied as you pressed your hand to his chest, feeling how warm the metal had gotten due to his run. It made you wonder if Tenya was sweating on the inside of his hero suit or if he had some type of cooling system similar to the ones in his boots that prevented his engines from overheating.
“Just...thank you,” the words came out in a shy whisper just before you glanced away. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me, it’s only a little cut,” you reminded him, but Tenya shook his head.
“I am afraid you got harmed as a direct result of my poorly timed actions, perhaps I was not fully comprehending or registering them during our training. But such behavior is unbefitting of a hero, especially toward someone they care deeply for," he said as he turned back to look at you, eyebrows slanted in another serious expression.
You parted your lips slightly, letting out a soft almost inaudible noise as he continued to speak. "In addition, as I stated earlier. I will do what I must to right this fault I have committed,” those subtle noises now turned into a defeated sigh.
Tenya was admirable in some sense of the word but once more you found yourself wishing he wasn't so serious. Your thoughts were broken as he walked through the door and the eerie silence of the dorm came to attention. It was strange to see the place empty.
“I am going to take you to the restroom, does that sound acceptable?” he questioned and you jumped in his arms. “Uh…” a moment of hesitation came before you shook your head. “Oh, I mean! Uh, t-that’s fine!” you replied and yet again got a strange look from Tenya.
“Are you most certain you are well?” you latched onto your bottom lip, cursing yourself for your rather stupid response. But, you nodded. “Y-Yeah! Fine...just not used to being carried,” your explanation was accompanied by an awkward laugh that almost made you want to smack yourself in the face.
Especially as Tenya raised his eyebrow yet again which caused you to latch onto your bottom lip, silencing your laugh. “S-Sorry,” you replied before focusing your attention down the hall where Tenya took another turn before he came to a stop in front of the restroom door.
Despite the fact the dormitory was empty, Tenya carefully balanced you in his arms before he extended one hand out and knocked. Once he was sure the restroom was actually and truly empty, he slid the door open and stepped inside.
“Here we are,” he said as he slowly placed you onto the toilet. Ensuring the lid was down first as he didn’t want another uncomfortable or awkward situation to occur, much less put you in harm's way again.
“Forgive me, but may I excuse myself for a short moment? I wish to change into something more appropriate. I shall only be gone for five minutes,” he explained, yet again bowing as he rambled off. Your hands reached down, clenching to the outside of the toilet seat. You were mindful of your cut finger.
“Uh, sure Iida. N-No problem!” you said, knowing your cheeks were still warm and continuing to rise in heat. You tried taking a deep breath but ended up coughing a few times and tried to play it off by glancing around the bathroom.
Maybe if you distract your thoughts away from Tenya, you'd remain calm. But Tenya seemed rather confused by the fact you coughed and reached up to cup his chin, tapping it a few times as he observed you. He wanted to ask if you were alright, but perhaps you were still getting over the shock of what happened.
"Thank you, please remain here." he bowed politely before exiting the bathroom, leaving you alone for a few minutes. You fidgeted some and ran your hands up and down your thighs. Trying to get rid of the butterflies in your stomach before you glanced at your finger. It didn't look too bad, apart from the dried blood.
You may have gotten too lost in your thoughts considering you jumped when three loud knocks sounded, your hand immediately reached up to fist into the front of your hero suit. “Y/n,” came Tenya’s voice, “may I come in?” he questioned and you dropped your hand. But your heart was still racing from the small scare.
“Uh, yeah!” you replied and watched as the door slid open and Tenya walked in. You swallowed as you glanced over him from head to toe. He was now wearing a plain white top with an unbuttoned long-sleeved blue plaid shirt over it.
This was accompanied by loose jeans that were neatly folded up at his ankles. “Is something wrong?” he questioned, more than likely realizing that you were staring at him. “Ah! Oh no, no!” you said, waving your arms in front of you like mad.
“I just...um…” you paused and looked down, trying to figure out what you could possibly say. You reached up, rubbing the back of your head. “You l-look very nice!” you managed to stutter out which, in turn, surprised Tenya.
He took a half step back and his cheeks grew a faint red color. “Oh, I see. Thank you very much,” he stated, hands coming down press against the sides of his thighs and his shoulders squared. He gave another bow before he approached you, carefully kneeling down but not allowing himself to touch the floor.
Then he held his hand out, “May I see your injured finger?” he questioned and you stared at that awaiting hand before slowly reaching out for it. His touch was gentle but that firm urgency was still there as he looked over the cut and the small amount of dried blood that had stained your hand.
“Please wait a moment,” he said as he gently placed your hand back down, resting it against your thigh. You watched as he rose to his feet and walked to the nearby closet where he grabbed three hand towels. “I believe we need to properly clean your hand first,” he said just before turning on the faucet.
The sound of water hitting the porcelain surface echoed through the room and caused you to shift on the toilet seat. You watched as Tenya began to wash his hands before using one of the three towels to dry them off. He then tossed it into the nearby laundry basket, you watched as he wet another hand towel and turned to you.
Once more he kneeled in front of you and presented his hand which you took. “Please accept my apologies once again, and forgive my assumptions. But I believe you are uncomfortable in your current state," he said, referring to the fact you were still covered in dirt and there were some rips that now needed to be repaired on your hero suit.
He began to clean your hand, dripping a fair amount of water everywhere as he started with your knuckles and palm. You could see the dark smears of dirt against the white-colored towel and tensed up when Tenya took your finger.
Making sure he was using a clean part of the towel as he wiped the cut and dried blood away. He only paused for a moment to glance at you. “Forgive me, is it tender?” he questioned before his attention turned back to your finger.
The cut itself looked deep and irritated, the skin around the opening bright red and slightly inflamed. “Only when you touch it,” you responded. “I will be more gentle,” he promised before once again getting up.
He tossed the dirty towel into the laundry basket before washing his hands yet again and grabbed the last towel which he used to dry your hand off as opposed to his own. “I’m going to clean it properly now,” he stated before disposing of the last towel and turned back to the closet.
You could hear the slight rummaging sound, and soft clinks as Tenya pulled out the items one by one. A bag of cotton balls, a box of bandaids, disinfectant, and a single packet of antibacterial gel were now laid across the bathroom counter.
You blinked, “Iida, do you...really need all that to clean my cut?” you questioned and Tenya raised his eyebrow as he glanced over each item. He then brought his hand up to his chin, cupping it as he thought.
“Do you believe I missed something perhaps?” he questioned and you couldn’t help but chuckle which caught Tenya’s attention. “Pardon? Did I say something amusing?” you leaned back. “Oh,” that’s right, Tenya didn’t favor when others laughed at him or at least when he believed they were laughing at him.
“No, I...just wanted to say thank you, Iida,” it was best not to provoke him. Despite knowing that it would take more than a laugh or insult to break his serious and otherwise calm personality. Still, you didn't feel like starting an argument or confrontation with him.
“You’re quite welcome, however, I do not believe you should be giving me any form of thanks,” he said as he pulled out a cotton ball and proceeded to wet it with the disinfectant. “This may cause an uncomfortable stinging sensation," he said as he turned to you, the cotton ball held securely between his thumb and index finger.
"Please let me know if it becomes too much. I would not want to cause any further harm to you,” he said as he once again took your hand and began to gently dab the wounded area with the cotton ball. You watched as it fizzled and popped before a white foam began to fill the cut.
You clenched your jaw, it stung somewhat. But it wasn’t anything that could make you cry out. “It...doesn’t hurt that bad,” you responded and Tenya glanced at you, allowing a moment to pass before he nodded.
Then he turned his attention back to your finger, applying pressure to the cotton ball before dragging it along the length of the cut. “It only seems minorly irritated,” he noted before he got up once more and threw the dirty cotton ball into the trash.
He then carefully grabbed the small packet of antibacterial gel and poured a small amount onto a new cotton ball. “Please keep still,” you held your breath as he rubbed the gel around your cut, it was almost attractive watching Tenya like this.
But, he always had a tendency to be very caring. At least with those he considered to be close with. You wondered for a moment if that’s the only thing he saw you as or if there was any chance you could somehow make him see you in a different light.
Once he threw the last cotton ball away, he grabbed a bandaid and carefully unwrapped it. “Hold your finger out please,” he instructed and of course, you followed through. Extending your index finger out enough for him to carefully wrap the bandage around it.
“I believe that’s on correctly, does it feel too restrictive?” he questioned and you spread your fingers as you looked at the bandaid. You flexed your finger, making sure you could move it properly before you nodded.
“It’s fine Tenya…” you then looked over at the box of bandaids, “but…” you paused. “But?” Tenya questioned, pushing you to complete your sentence. “Are you unsatisfied?” he questioned as he stepped closer to you, invading your space.
You latched onto your lip, trying not to make a noise as Tenya leaned over. “Uh…” your breath hitched as his hand came to rest on your shoulder and he appeared to be looking you over. “Do you have any other injuries on your person I am not aware of?” he questioned.
“Pardon my touch,” he said before you felt his hand thread into your hair. You swallowed before leaning away, somewhat in a panic which was evident enough by the way you held your hands up. “N-No!” you suddenly exclaimed and Tenya immediately stepped back, creating a fair amount of distance between himself and you.
“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, I did not mean to invade your personal space, and I-” you shook your head, stumbling to your feet. “I-Iida!” you stuttered out, “I was...I was just going to say that…” you blinked and lowered your hands to your sides.
Your gaze was to the floor and you knew he would notice how red your cheeks were. “Hm?” he reached up to grab the left side of his glasses, moving them slightly as if trying to correct his vision. “Then nothing is wrong?” you almost felt bad for confusing him and closed your eyes.
Another deep breath came before you spoke again, “I...just wanted another one,” you sheepishly said and lifted your head as you opened your eyes, catching Tenya’s confused expression. “I...I’m afraid I do not understand, you required one bandage for your cut,” he said as he raised his arm.
“Are you most certain you do not have another injury? I will not be angered if you state that you, in fact, do and require more medical attention!” you stepped back and watched him chop that hand through the air. It was such a repetitive movement.
But Tenya did it with ease, you wondered if his arm ever got sore. “Well, I…” you turned your head, once again looking away from the boy in front of you. “I would...feel better if I had another one,” you explained and Tenya blinked, his movements coming to a halt.
“I….are you certain it would make you feel better?” he questioned before you shyly glanced back at him, but remained silent as you nodded. Tenya’s eyebrows came down and you could hear a soft humming coming from the inside of his throat.
“Heh,” you gave a sheepish smile, maybe he was thinking too hard again? You slowly raised your hand, extending your bandaged finger out to him. “Hm?” such an action seemed to have caught his attention, but he was unsure of what he was supposed to do.
“Are...may I ask why you feel the need to present your finger?” he asked and you knew that there was a possibility of rejection or for Tenya to laugh at you for what you were about to ask next. “Well, a-actually can you…” the words you wanted to speak seemed stuck and Tenya stepped closer, reaching out to gently take your hand.
“Please, do not be afraid to ask me anything," he seemed to be repeating himself again. "I assure you, I would not find something you wish to say or ask to be humorous in any matter,” once more that deep tone was associated with his voice and it caused you to shiver.
You felt your mouth go dry, though you knew you could trust Tenya to keep his word. “O-Okay,” you said, though you knew your shaky voice held some uncertainty to it. “Would you...or c-can you...kiss it?” you questioned and almost immediately you felt him release your hand.
More than likely surprised by your bold question. “I...f-forgive me, I believe I must have misheard you. Please repeat your question,” you took note of Tenya’s wide eyes, clenched jaw, and overall unwillingness to go through with what you asked.
But you knew you’d never get anywhere if you didn’t push through the limitations in front of you. “I asked…” you began as you took a step forward, now standing only inches away from Tenya. You raised your hand to present your finger once more.
“Could you kiss my finger?” Tenya’s stiff posture seemed to soften, but you noticed how flushed he was. “I...I do not understand, I have taken the proper steps to clean it and you assured me you weren’t in any pain an-” you frowned before deciding to shove your hand in his face.
“Please Iida,” you might as well try begging. “I know you cleaned it and everything, but a kiss would make it feel better too,” you insisted and took note of the soft revving sound, more than likely coming from Tenya’s engines. Was he nervous? It certainly seemed that way, especially with how he stuttered out his response.
“I uh...I am afraid that’s too i-inappropriate and I do not b-believe even if this was a-appropriate in the context that would allow such an affectionate or o-otherwise romantic f-form of action t-that I would know h-how to-” you pressed your bandaged finger against his lips and tried to resist chuckling as you watched him tremble in response.
It was a surprise that his glasses weren’t fogging up with how deep red his cheeks were beginning to get. “It’s not inappropriate Iida,” you tried to reassure him. “It’s something that brings a lot of people comfort. It’s more of the thought behind the action. So please?” you questioned yet again as you removed your finger from his lips and held it out in hopes he’d follow through with doing what you wanted.
But you took note of how his eyebrows were slanted, and the way he looked at your finger as if it was something new and foreign to him. Actually, had Tenya ever done something like this before? Had he kissed anyone or anything?
You knew it wasn’t your place to ask, but you got a little concerned when you glanced down and watched as Tenya’s hands folded into loose fights which shook slightly. Then he brought those hands up, his palms facing out. His head was turned and his eyes slipped closed, he looked tense.
“If you continue to insist that you will feel better if I were to ‘kiss’ your finger. Then perhaps I have no choice,” he said, and you could tell he was a little annoyed as he lowered his hands and turned his head to face you once more.
But a sense of relief came when Tenya opened his eyes and reached up to gently take your hand. Then, he leaned forward. “I will try to be gentle, I can imagine your finger is still sore. Yes?” he questioned, but you were too busy watching as he guided your finger up to his mouth.
Then came the soft warmth of his lips which caused a tingle to course from the tip of your finger to the top of your head and down to the end of your toes. The faint echo of your pounding heart sounded in your ears and much like Tenya, you felt your cheeks heat up.
They were a dark shade of pink by the time Tenya pulled away. “I...trust your finger feels better now, yes?” he questioned and you swallowed, taking note of how his glasses were sliding down the bridge of his nose.
“Uh...y-yeah...but,” you glanced back to the sink counter, “c-can I have another?” Tenya blinked. “A-Another? But I just followed through with kissing your finger as you requested and-” you shook your head. “No I mean...can I have another bandaid now?” you questioned as you pointed to the box that remained sitting on the counter.
Tenya frowned and gently released your hand before crossing his arms, “I believe one is quite enough for you,” he stated and you knew by his tone that you shouldn’t try to argue. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t. “Please?” you folded your hands together to resemble a begging position.
“Just one more!” he let out a soft growl. “I do not wish to waste the bandaids as our classmates might be in need of them as well,” he said before he reached over to take the box. “Come on Iida,” you decided to press as he turned to put the box of bandages back into the closet.
But, you reached out to grab his shoulder and a loud sigh came. The angry look he gave somewhat scared you, it was a rare sight to see Tenya scowl. “If you continue to insist yet again that this item is something that you need to feel better,” he began, “I will allow it for this one instance,” he said as he placed the bandages back onto the counter.
“But this is the last bandage, do you understand?” he said as he pulled one out, holding it between his fingers as he gave you a soft glare. “Uh…” you felt your stomach twist before you nodded. “Yeah, I understand,” you replied before Tenya began to peel back the paper that surrounded the bandage.
“Where would you like me to place this one?” he questioned, “Oh!” you hadn’t thought of that and quickly looked at your hand. “How about…” you held your hand in front of him, wiggling your ring finger. “Very well…” Tenya said as he stepped forward and yet again, wrapped a bandage around your finger.
You couldn’t help but smile as he turned to throw the excess paper away. “Thank you, Iida,” you said before looking at the box and quickly snatched another bandage out of it. You peeled off the outer wrapping and carelessly allowed it to fall to the floor.
“Hm?” Tenya glanced over his shoulder at you, almost suspiciously and you hid the bandage behind your back in hopes it would deter that suspicious glance of his. It seemed to fool him for the moment and he once more walked over to you.
It was almost embarrassing how tall Tenya was in comparison to yourself, but he was one of the tallest in your class. But at the same time, it was heartwarming. You know many outsiders could be intimidated by Tenya, but once you got to know him.
You’d find that he had a soft and caring side to him which was often perfectly balanced with his more serious and heroic side. Everything he did seemed to be with purpose and in a way that was admirable. “Allow me to walk you to your room,” he offered his arm for you to take and you glanced at.
“Actually Iida...um...I have something to tell you,” your fingers grazed across the bandage you held behind your back. “Hm?” he raised his eyebrow, “Of course, I assure you I am the most attentive listener,” you smiled, that’s kind of what you hoped for. You raised your free hand, using your finger to motion him to lean over.
He seemed confused at first but leaned down to your height as you wanted. You then brought your other hand forward, quickly peeling back the strips that covered the bottom side of the bandage. “Y/n!” Tenya exclaimed as if you committed some unforgivable sin, then came his hand.
Once more chopping through the air with urgency. “I believe I stated that I did not wish to waste any more bandages that are otherwise unnecessary!” you expected as much from Tenya and there was one thing you could do to stop him.
“Mm!” he suddenly flinched back when he realized the bandage you were previously holding was now placed over his lips. “Mmmm!” he mumbled, bringing his hands up to remove it but you quickly grabbed them which caused his eyes to widen.
You then offered a kind smile, though a few chuckles accompanied it before you leaned close. Pressing your lips against his mouth. Though that bandage did separate you from actually kissing his lips. But Tenya looked surprised, downright thrown off by your actions.
You knew there were countless thoughts running through his head, especially as you stepped away and proceeded to bow politely. “Thank you for saving me, Iida.” you grinned as you walked past him, taking some amusement in his flushed and furiously confused expression.
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winchesterxxi · 3 years
Text
For the Best (Din Djarin x Reader) | PART 1
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PART 2 ⇒
Rating: G (General Audience)
Type: Angst
Summary: Din has put his life at risk one too many times in order to protect Y/N. But how much is too much?
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: CHAPTERS 14 & 15 SPOILERS
A/N: this a long one, so strap in. and fun fact, that’s my favorite gif of din, ever. something about the ruffled hair, the worried eyes and the facial hair just hit the spot. (UPDATE: Hi so apparently people want this to be a series??? So part 2 is in the works but because this was intended to be a one shot apologies if it seems rushed)
MASTERPOST | REQUEST HERE | KO-FI
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Din would give his life to protect the ones he loved. It wasn’t just a case of honor and duty anymore but rather of pure unfiltered love, which he’d never admit out loud or phantom of letting you know. Most of the times he’d do it so unconsciously that it was as if a primal instinct took over him when it came to protecting either of you. Sure you were a grown woman, with amazing hunter skills but for him, you were something that he had to protect, without making it too knowledgeable to the people around him.
That is why he was quite reluctant to take you along with Mayfield to the hidden Imperial rhydonium refinery on Morak to get Moff Gideon's ship coordinates.
“Din, I’ll be fine.”
“What if-”
“No discussions. I’m going.”
And he just silently nodded his helmet in a yes ma’am manner that made the whole crew on the back of The Slave side eye each other.
Once inside the officer's mess hall, where the terminal Mayfield needed is in, he notices his former commanding officer, Valin Hess, and fears being recognized, refusing to step into the hall.
“This is your part of the job. You go in there and you get the bloody coordinates.” you hiss at him through your own helmet.
“My part of the job? I drove us here while under attack and saved our asses, and you have the nerve to say this is my part of the job? No way I’m going in there.” he looks between you and Din.
“I’ll do it then.” you say decidedly, but before you could take a single step into the hall, Din grabs your upper arm.
“No.”
“What do you mean no? He won’t do it and you’ have to take your helmet off which is not happening.”
“Why would I have to take my helmet off?” he questions through his modulated voice.
“All the terminals in this refinery can only be accessed after a facial recognition scan. I noticed it while we were making our way through the halls.” you explain causing Mayfield to throuw an impressed look in your direction.
All three of you fall in silence for a few seconds, considering how you would go about reaching the terminal and before you could say another word, Din steps away from you and Mayfield not even giving you time to process what was happening or try to stop him.
With just a few strides he was standing in front of the target terminal pressing a few buttons and for two times getting an automated voice stating facial scan required. Sensing his distress, you try to walk to him only to have Mayfield’s hand forcefully grabbing you and pulling you back to where you were standing.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he whisper-yells, scolding you.
“I’m trying to help.” you answer with the same voice tone, releasing your arm from his grasp.
“He can take care of himself.” you don’t say anything but instead turn your head in Din’s direction, just like Mayfield as you hear the facial recognition being asked for a third time, initiating a countdown.
Din reaches for his helmet and you cut your own breathing. and there’s a slight buzz in your ears. The world stops spinning when your eyes catch the back of his head and the curling of his brown hair strands there resting. You can’t believe what he just did, exposing himself like that and introducing his face to virtually every security control in the galaxy. 
Even though his back was still facing you, there was almost a sense of disrespect in looking at him, almost as if you’d caught him undressing. 
Then, from the corner of your eye you can see Hess approaching him. 
“Trooper!” Hess shouted to him. “Hey, trooper!”
Din turned his head in Hess’s direction and as soon as your eyes caught a glimpse of his skin, you looked away - this didn’t feel right. He didn’t have a say on whether or not he’d want you to look at him and you didn’t want him to be even more uncomfortable than what he already was.
“Pay attention when a superior addresses you. What’s your designation?” 
“Transport crew,” he said. No helmet modulator whatsoever and his honey like voice slipped so easily into your ears. 
“What?”
“My designation is Transport Copilot.” his voice said again and you could hear to slight tremble in his statement.
“No, son. What’s your TK number?” Hess insisted
“My TK number... is...” he tried but nothing comes out, and you know that this might be the moment that gets all three of you killed. That is until Mayfield steps in front of you and quickly strides to Din’s side.
“This is my Commanding Officer TK-593, sir,” Mayfield quickly says, and gave Din a look of reassurance before turning in your direction and motioning with his head for you to come closer. Slowly, with the riffle still under your harm you approach the three men all looking at you. “And this is my First Lieutenant TK-234. I’m Imperial Combat Assault Transport Lieutenant TK-111, and Sir, I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up to him a little bit, since his vessel lost pressure in Taanab.”
You are standing next to Din and you now realize how he was only a few inches taller than you without the beskar armor, his chin just little above your eye line. For a moment you imagine how enjoyable it would be to lay your head against his shoulder or nuzzle against his neck, heights perfectly matching.
“What’s your name, Officer?”
“We just call him Brown Eyes,” said Mayfield with a mocking undertone in his voice “Isn’t that right, Officer?”
Brow eyes you thought. Brown eyes... that suits him.
With your peripheral vision you can see Din slightly nodding with his head. You still din’t dare to look at him.
“C’mon, let’s go fill out those TPS reports, so we can go recharge the power coils-” Mayfield started, trying to get done and over with this situation 
 “You’re not dismissed.” you all froze. 
“You the tank troopers that delivered the shipment of rhydonium?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir.” 
“Yes, sir” Din was the last to answer and you could feel the vibrations of his voice next to you.
“Well, you three managed to be the only transport today to deliver their shipment. Come with me, hmn? Let’s get a drink... Brown Eyes.”
As soon as he turns his back Mayfied follows suit and you can see Din looking at you, once again, through the corner of your eyes, but you look straight ahead and walk behind Mayfield.
What you didn’t see is that you left a hurt man behind, one that wished for you to be the first person to look him in the eyes but that now thought that he was so hideous that you couldn’t even bear the sight of him.
Sitting down on a nearby table, Mayfield took the seat in front of Commander Hess and you to his right, leaving the seat in front of you free for Din to take his place at the table.
“So,” said Hess, “What shall we toast to, boys, and girl? I can blather on, about ‘to health’ or ‘to success’, but... I’d like to do something a little less rote.” he turns to Din “Where you from, Brown Eyes?”
“How ‘bout a toast to Operation Cinder,” Mayfield intervenes.
“Now,” says Hess “That’s what I’m talking about.”
“No,” Mayfield continues. “No, you don’t get it - I lived it. I was in Burnin Konn.”
“Burnin Konn?” “Mm.”
“That was a hard day. I had to make many... unpleasant decisions.”
An exchange between the two men initiates but all you’re focusing on is keeping your eyes looking down at either the table or your drink avoiding Din at all costs. But then, feeling his eyes practically burning a hole in your forehead you realize how much of an asshole you are acting like right now.
This man trusts you with his life. And you with his. You both had made sure to make that known a few weeks ago when you almost got killed by this enormous Ice Spider in Maldo Kreis and he told you to instead of running away from the spider to try and run into and under it.
“Are you crazy?” you cried out
“Do you trust me?” he asked
“With my life.”
“Me too. Then do it.”
And so, your eyes start to trail their way across the table. To his chest plate. To his neck. To the bottom of his face, noticing his light stubble and mustache. To his eyes. And then, just like that, wind knocked out off you. 
Your furrowed and anxious brows soften and your teeth release you lips, that you were biting trying to not think too much. Your whole body softens and as you look at him in adoration.
And he is looking at you. Adoringly. These two people that have known each other for so long, longed for each other for so long are finally meeting each other, actually seeing each other for the first time. For him, it’s the first time he sees the true color of the flush of you skin or how blood tinted your lips are as he doesn’t have the slight darkness of his helmet distorting them.
He wants to kiss you, so bad.
“You see, kids,” Hess says snapping you both from that moment “Everybody thinks they want freedom, but what they really want... is order. And when they realize that, they’re gonna welcome us back with open arms.”
He lifted his glass, and Mayfield chuckles. Both you and Din look worriedly at him knowing how he is about to go out of his mind
“To the Empire.” He drank and Mayfield fires.
You and Din look shocked at each other before turning to Mayfield.
“What the hell?!�� you scold him.
Suddenly, stormtroopers appeared from all sides, and the three of you grabbed your weapons, starting to shoot everyone on sight, Din in front of you. Eventually, they were all down and there were just the three of you standing in the room.
Mayfield jaunts ahead “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Turning back to Din, you meet him looking down at you, his expression soft again. You reach for his helmet, pressing it against his chest.
“You did what you had to do. I never saw your face.” He looked back at you.
“Y/N...”
“It’s okay. If there is a next time that I can look at you, I want it to be out of want. Not out of need.”
He looks at you, actually thinking about whether or not he’d go back to hiding himself from you but ending up nodding and putting it back on.
“Thank you.” he says voice muffled by the helmet.
“You’d do the same for me.”
Yes he’d do.
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You sat in the main chamber of the Slave next to Mayfield as the rest of the crew conversed in the upper room trying to come up with the next part of the rescue plan.
“You’re going to get him killed.” your head turns in his direction. 
“What?” you question not sure of what you heard.
“You’re going to get him killed. Today, that man went to the terminal to prevent you from going. He put himself in front of you, shooting at a whole battalion of stormtroopers. He stayed behind so that you could be the first to climb into this very ship.” 
You look down, remembering today’s events.
“He just did that for you, and Cara told me that yesterday he almost made a roast of himself when he thought you were on the Razor Crest when it got blown up. He was actually going to walk up into a ball of fire because he thought you were there. Don’t you get it? He might be one of the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy but that man goes completely irrational when it comes to you.”
“What are you trying to say?” you asked confused and trying to mask the hurt in your voice.
“I know this is going to hurt to hear but... maybe you should go away. At least until he gets the kid back so that he can concentrate only on that.”
“Are you saying that I’m a distraction?”
“Your not a distraction to him. You’re his priority. And that has proved itself to be beyond dangerous.”
He stands up without another word and climbs to the room above, letting you to sit with your thoughts, going over the exchange that just happened.
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Boba had stationed the ship on some random planet for the night and while everyone was sound asleep, preparing for what they had to face the next day, you spent the past hours pacing in your room, Mayfield’s words still echoing in your head.
That’s why you were now standing next to your bed, a bag with all of your belongings on top of it. This is for the Best. If I stay he’ll probably get killed. You repeat over and over, recalling all the times that Din risked himself for you, the ones that no one but the both of you knew because they weren’t there to witness them.
This is for the Best.
Decidedly, you sling the bag over and across your shoulders, silently opening the door to the outside of your chamber and sliding it close. It’s better this way: to leave without saying goodbye, during the dark of the galactic night. A goodbye will wreck you and a goodbye would make you stay.
This is for the Best.
You repeat one last time, once you step out of the ship into the frosty night air, taking one last look back, before walking away, wishing that the next morning people wouldn’t panic and rather understand your decision; wishing that Din would some day forgive you.
This is for the Best
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dat-town · 3 years
Text
throw me to the wolves (and i’ll return leading the pack)
Characters: rebellion leader!Juyeon & thief!you
Genre: action, kind of enemies to lovers, historical (set in early 1900s like in Mr. Sunshine)
Warnings: some suggestive themes but nothing explicit, violence, minor character deaths
Summary: As the king’s thief, you had been assigned to get back the stolen map of the palace. It’s easy as pie but you would have never expected such consequences of your actions and you certainly did not expect Lee Juyeon in your life.
Words: 8.3k
Author’s note: title is a Seneca quote as far as I know (and I swear it will make sense), also the concept is very much inspired by TBZ’s Road to Kingdom Reveal and Danger stages.
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Lee Juyeon might not have been of royal blood but he had definitely been born to rule. 
The first time you met him, he pressed the blade of a knife against your neck, pinning you to a dirty wall in the outskirts of Hanseong.
"Not the nicest way to say hi to a lady," you remarked casually as if neither the closeness of his firm, strong body nor the sharp object grazing your skin didn't affect you.  He was a lot stronger than you, you knew that, it would have been useless to go against him with brute force, so you had to be smart about it.
"You are very far from a lady," he sneered at you, dark messy hair falling into his fierce eyes.
Meeting his gaze, your heartbeat stopped for a moment in fear before blood rushing to your face tinted your pale cheeks in the colours of rosy sunrises. His eyes were murderous and he held his weapon steadily, so you were sure he wouldn't have hesitated to slice your throat if things didn't go his way. He was a dangerous man, you knew that already. With a reputation like his, you expected nothing less.
Although he might have had the reflexes and the wits, he might have been able to find you but you weren't going to just let him win so easily.
"Oh, am I?" you tilted your head nonchalantly yet careful not to hurt yourself because of your own hastiness. Then you elegantly lifted your right leg to link it behind his thigh almost as if you wanted to pull him closer. As expected, he faltered momentarily, blinking surprised at your bold and suggestive move, but that was all you needed to pull out your own dagger from its case on your leg and point it at his abdomen with a triumphant smile playing on your carmine lips. Oh men and their confidence, they always overlooked the skills of women.
Juyeon gritted his teeth, pressing his lips together firmly and as he was looking at you through narrowed eyes and you swore you could almost see the cogs in his head turning. 
"Not that I don't enjoy this but what about we continue this discussion in a more civilized manner?" you croaked a brow at him challengingly to which the guy just let out a ridiculing snort. 
"Well, you could have thought of that when you robbed me," he remarked almost as if he was waiting for you to deny it. But you just shrugged, unbothered. 
"Stealing from a thief can hardly count as a theft."
"But it doesn't change the fact that I want my possession back," the young man retorted and you cracked a smile at that. That wasn't unexpected, of course, he wanted it. A lot of people desired the same thing in those chaotic times.
"Well, I don't have it with me but if you are willing to pay me more than my current client I might consider giving it back. I won't risk my life for nothing. Not even for that handsome face of yours," you teased pressing his buttons on purpose, testing him but the guy let out another snort, this time with a roll of his eyes. He clearly didn't appreciate you joking around but you were dead serious about your offer. In this kind of business you were dealing in, betraying a client had a high price.
"What about you giving it back nicely and I will forget about this little incident?" he offered you a chance to come clean and there was a dangerous edge in his voice, a 'because if you don't...' kind of threat. Oh, so he was the revengeful kind. It didn't really surprise you but he also wasn't the first man promising to ruin your life. But also because of that, his words could not scare you.
"What about I start screaming and men will come and save me from a pervert who pushed me against the wall?" you asked and from the flinch of his mouth you knew you had won this time. Because Hanseong might not have been the most righteous place of all, men still liked to play the hero if a pretty girl called for help. Juyeon must have known this as well, so his silence made you smile. "What about we play by my rules? Be at the Eastern altar of the Buddhist temple by the time the bell rings last at midnight and we might make a deal if you bring enough cash."
“Aren't you afraid that I will just take it?” he pondered the thought but he should have known better.
“Aren't you arrogant to think I would let you have it so easily? So what will it be? Should I scream?” you provoked him on purpose and did not like his smirk one bit. But at least he pulled away, lowering his knife, slipping it back to its place while his gaze wandered down to your rolled up skirt and the dagger you held in your hand.
“There are better ways to make you scream,” he said hoarsely and you couldn't decide whether it was supposed to be a threat or he was just being cocky. But before you could have questioned his motives, he swiftly climbed over a wall, disappearing into the shadows. 
Lee Juyeon was fuming. He hated to lose and for some reason, meeting you felt like a slap. He didn't like that you had something over him, something that he really needed, so he had no choice but to cooperate, something he really hated to do with people he didn't trust and he certainly loathed your fleeting loyalty. Your kind, who didn't believe in anything, always chose the side which seemed more favourable, was the worst in his eyes because you two might have been criminals just the same but at least he did it all for a reason, a greater cause. 
"Did you get it back?" Changmin greeted him excitedly as soon as he stepped into their hideout but Juyeon didn't spare him a glance, he went straight to their safe.
"She didn't have it with her," he murmured grumpily and mindlessly but the other boy was quick to catch on that tiny detail.
"Wait... she? It was a girl that almost broke Chanhee's nose?" he gasped to which the guy he just mentioned threatened to throw the closest object at him which happened to be a stolen jewellery box.
"Thank you for the reminder," he spoke up ironically sweetly.
Juyeon just shot them a disapproving look.
"Yes, it was a very annoying girl," he said, blood still boiling because of the fact that this unknown girl managed to break into their hideout and steal the map of the palace. They worked too hard to get it just to get it taken away by a pitiful thief.
"We will get it back, don't worry, but we can't make it too easy for her because then she might get greedy. Get some of the boys. We are going to pray tonight," Juyeon said as he fixed his sword on his side. 
Changmin and Chanhee exchanged a knowing look but neither of them objected. They knew better because if Juyeon was good at something other than having a tongue as sharp as his blade, that was planning. He just didn't like when things got out of hand.
The temple was eerily quiet moments before midnight. When the bell of curfew woke up all the birds that flew away, Juyeon stepped out of the darkness as well, making his way slowly towards the altar but just as he stepped inside the temple, a familiar voice echoed all around.
“Aren’t you curious why I chose this place?” came the rhetorical question from somewhere in the shadows. “Because the acoustic is so perfect that every little step can be heard clearly. So you better leave your boys out and come in alone.”
Juyeon gritted his teeth and signalled to the others to wait outside. He hated that he was outsmarted by you. Not because you were a girl, he prided himself in the fact that he didn't care about that. He didn't like anyone crossing his plans and you were doing that as if you had the time of your life waltzing through his chess board.
He took careful, calculated steps inside the temple. He halted for a moment when he saw you sitting cross legged in front of a golden statue of a deity. He himself had never been religious, no god had given him a reason to believe, so he believed in what he could see and experience: himself and his group.
"Let's cut to the chase. I brought the money," he said, throwing the bag of coins between the two of you.
You hummed, acknowledging the heavy weight of the bag. But if you wanted to be honest, you didn't really care about money. Sure, it was a good safety net in case your previous clients turned against you but money couldn't save your life, you could have done nothing with it dead.
"Why do you need the map of the Palace?" you roll the sheet of paper in front of you, so both of you would see it: the pretty architectural plan of the most important building complex of the empire.
"Isn't it obvious?" Juyeon croaks a brow at that, glancing down on the paper and the candles nearby, wondering whether you would threaten him to set it ablaze if he wasn't cooperative. If you were arrogant enough to think you could be faster than him.
"Hm, no. I can think of multiple purposes," you told him lulling the options in your head. “But you don't have a good thief. If you had instead of trying to negotiate with me they would steal it back, so I guess you don't wish to rob the treasury. Then again you would have much easier ways to get inside if you would like to free a prisoner, so that leaves me with one option: you want to kill the king. Or someone as important as him."
Him, that puppet king so hungry for power that he didn’t even notice how his advisers controlled him.
The corner of Juyeon's mouth twitches. No matter how much he tried to act nonchalant he was annoyed how well you figured him out. His silence was enough of an answer for you nevertheless. So with a content smile on your carmine lips, you tilted your head in interest, gaze fixed on his sharp lines even in the dim lit temple.
"You know, rumours say that you are the bastard son of the late king," you told him paying close attention to his reactions but Juyeon stayed unfazed.
"And you think I will tell you if it's right or not?" he let out a mocking laughter but you weren't one to take it to heart.
"It was worth a shot." you just shrugged, then looked down on the map he so desperately wanted. "I will let you have it for free. On one condition."
"Then it's not free," he corrected you but the way his mouth tilted with annoyance but eyebrows raised in curiosity, he couldn't have been that bothered.
"I want in," you told him, clear and honest, confident. "If you really want to kill the king, I want to join."
For the first time that night the guy seemed really surprised and he didn't hide it. He looked at you as if you thought killing was a children's game.
"That's rebellion, you know, right?"
"We're both criminals, you know, right?" you retorted and he stared into your eyes, cold fire burning in his dark orbs. Moments passed like this, in grave silence and then...
"Accept her freaking condition. We do need a good thief," someone yelled from outside and you let out a chuckle. At least someone was smart on that team, you liked him already. Unlike the infamous Lee Juyeon.
"If you ever just think about betraying us, I'll kill you myself," he gritted his teeth but you merely smiled at him. You had no plans on betraying them as long as they got rid of the puppet king. And your unpaid debt.
"Understood," you stood up, pushing the map to his chest and grinned at him. "Instead of sulking, introduce me to your boys."
The notorious group was unlike any other than you had met before. They seemed more like friends and family than allies from the way they acted around each other. Of course, you weren't taken to the headquarters right away. You were taken to some inn where a guy named Changmin who seemed the most open to your arrival checked whether the map was real. They also stood guard one by one during the night as if you wanted to kill them. Gosh, it was four against one and Mr. Almighty thought girls weren't a match for him.
You immediately hit it off with Changmin over the fact that you had punched someone called Chanhee in the face while stealing the asset from them the last time. Sangyeon was kind but careful from the beginning. But Sunwoo and Juyeon seemed more wary of you but after you gave the last chicken wing of yours to the younger, he softened, so only their leader was hard to crack. You didn't exactly blame him, he just tried to keep the others safe even if he did it in an annoying way.
"Let's get one thing right: I don't trust you. Your kind, only working for money as if that was your god, not believing in something, that's the worst," he told you one evening, right before you were about to meet the entire team.
"I don't have the luxury to believe in anything else than myself. Never had," you looked him straight in the eyes, no tremble in your voice and then, for the first time since you knew him, Juyeon's eyes had a kind of understanding in them as if he knew what you were talking about.
The next day you were heading towards a temporary base and while the guys warned you about possible checks and guards on the road, neither of you expected any connotation. You travelled on horse backs with a farm-wagon like some nomads trying not to draw attention but each of you were known and wanted criminals, so it was almost inevitable to get on someone's bad side.
"Where exactly are we going?" you complained when you noticed that you took a turn that led backwards from where you departed.
"To the base, like we said, we just don't want unwelcomed guests there," Juyeon gritted his teeth, tilting his head towards the mountains. You didn't see anything special in them but he must have been aware of how ambushes around there worked because it didn't take long for the men to show their faces… or well, their intent. The first arrow pierced into the ground only a few steps away from Sunwoo's horse's feet, scaring the animals and alarming all of you. You looked around, drawing your daggers from your belt but you didn't see anyone in particular. The attack must have come from the mountains, from behind the rocks and the first one was soon followed by another again and again arrows raining down on you like a summer downpour.
"Into the woods! Right now!" Juyeon yelled and everybody followed his order without questions asked, leading the horses among the trees, into hiding. You tried to keep up and follow the guys but it seemed like you had lost their sight while watching behind your back too, checking on the approaching attackers. Eventually you decided to let your horse go, far into the woods, away from the danger on its own as you tried to hide from the men. You were like a shadow thief after all, you were good at disappearing into thin air but not if you had an animal three-four times your size with you. You hid behind a rock covered in green leaves, wondering whether you should have climbed the bamboo trees instead when you heard the steps nearing. You suck in your breath, holding it in to not make any noise while mentally cursing Lee Juyeon and his gang for setting you up. The king must have offered a nice sum of money for proving you unfaithful. Why else would they have left you behind?
Just as you thought you were by yourself, a hand clamped over your mouth, pulling your body close to his.
"Keep quiet and follow me," Juyeon, that impossible guy, muttered before slowly taking his hands off you and yanking you towards the growing bushes in the middle of the bamboo forest. There, between two ordinary looking branches he crouched down and climbed into some kind of hole that was unnoticeable from afar. You followed him, knees and hands dirty by the time you got to some kind of cave where you could stand up finally and you blinked, trying to adjust to the dark.
"Welcome to the base," you heard Changmin's cheerful voice and he lit a lamp, filling the cave with light where everybody was safe and sound. Seeing that and how Sangyeon was in the middle of treating an arrow scratch on Sunwoo's arm, you let out the breath you had been holding this whole time. Back there, you really thought for a moment that they betrayed you already and while lack of trust saved you quite a few times, this time you weren't proud of doubting them already.  Not that they had any sentimental reason to get you to safety, they needed you for their mission, only that, you knew that and refused to believe otherwise.
However, the confession that fell from your lips that evening while passing the pot of jjigae around was more out of a sense of fairness than guilt.
"You told me you hate the kind that works only for the money, right?" you met Juyeon's sharp, dark, ever so telling eyes by the campfire, keeping your voice low enough, so only the two of you would hear it.
"I don't really have much choice. I work for the king to pay off my family's debt. It's this or prison and if I can make some side money like that, why not?" you shrugged, not looking at him. You weren't curious about his reaction or opinion, you told yourself. You didn't tell him to pity you.
A few long moments of silence passed while you pretended to cool the food down while stirring until Juyeon spoke up.
"Then why are you betraying him?"
"Isn't it obvious? A debt to the king has no limit, I would have to work for him until the day I die, he would never be satisfied with less. I want my freedom back," you told him, honestly, which was received only by a hum but you were glad that he didn't drag the topic out, he didn't ask about the reason behind the debt.
After that day, you were more involved in the planning phrase of the upcoming missions and eventually you met the whole team. You went out to steal this and that with Chanhee, playfully commenting on how pretty his nose was and grew totally fond of Haknyeon who made the best noodle soup you ever ate. The more missions you had been a part of, the more time you spent with them and away from the castle, the less chance you had to go back and beg for mercy if things went wrong. That was your original plan: give it a chance and retreat if it didn't work out but you had to realise that these people didn't have A and B plans, this was their one and only fight and they believed in it. It made you want it to succeed even more.
"We don't do this to rule," Changmin told you one day, after practicing sword fighting. "Nobody here, not even Juyeon desires the throne. We do this for the oppressed people, for those who suffer the most under this unfair regime."
It sounded too noble to be real but you believed him. Even more so when you heard that their takeover plan considered the loss of people and that they wished to get over with it with the least victims possible. That was why they needed the plan too: to know the best path to the throne room and the king's and his advisers' rooms without getting in the way of many guards. You also needed to know where and when the soldiers did their regular checks in the palace, so your plan's next phase was to observe the place. Chanhee has some connections and you could have your hideout in a courtesan house close to the royal quarters.
"Change," Juyeon said as he put a pile of pastel green dress in front of you. You looked down with clear disgust on your face before looking back up at a disgust.
"Are you for real?"
"You can't walk into a courtesan house dressed like that. You are a girl," Juyeon's voice was authoritative and a bit tense, you scoffed.
"Wow, now you're saying that," you rolled your eyes at him, still grimacing even when you were told that it was expensive to get said dress. In the end, you had to admit, it was the plan possible way to get in, so you picked the clothes up with a sigh and walked into a further alcove to get changed before your departure. It had been a long time since you wore skirts, those weren't too practical for climbing or fighting, so you preferred pants and anything that made it easy to move quickly and comfortably. So it felt strange to wear something like this again, not to mention it was probably silk based on how soft it was against your skin and you probably had never worn something as expensive as that. You ever let your hair down from the usual ponytail that made sure it didn't get in the way, so you looked every bit of a decent lady when you stepped out.
"Wow," Youngjae gave voice to his awe the moment he saw you and Sunwoo had to nudge him in the side to close his mouth.
The boys were either shy about it or similarly amazed, only Juyeon didn't really react. He barely glanced your way before telling everyone to hurry up. You rolled your eyes at his obvious behaviour and stuck to Changmin’s side on the way to the courtesan house. It would have been too conspicuous if everybody went together, so you formed smaller groups.
The plan was to get everyone to the new base before midnight and observe the palace for the next few days in turns. To make it even more believable, in public you had to act as if you were one of the girls working in the courtesan house, that made it less suspicious for the guys to visit you either and you didn’t care about your reputation much anyways. Not that a lot knew you, the faceless shadow thief, anyways. During the next days you gathered enough information to know when it would have been the best to attack but there must have been a whistleblower around because soldiers raided the courtesan house one of the evenings.
“They closed off every exit and entrance, we cannot get out without being caught,” Sangyeon said while Hyungseo looked out the window, confirming that there were soldiers outside as well.
“Chanhee says they are checking every room where there’s no business going on,” Changmin closed the door behind him. You were on the top floor, so you had advantage in time while the soldiers were busy checking beneath.
“Business?” Youngjae furrowed his brows, confused and got a smack in the head from Sunwoo.
“You know,” he emphasized making hand gestures that almost made you laugh despite the tense situation.
“Then hide and let’s make it look like there’s something here they don’t have the right to see,” you said pulling the fancy hairpin out, letting your locks fall onto your shoulders as you threw your red robe onto the ground, leaving a bit of a mess.
“Oh my gosh,” Youngjae shrieked, scandalized and turned his back on you, deciding to hide inside the closet followed by Sunwoo while others moved behind the curtains.
“Come on, I can’t put on a show alone. That would be even more suspicious than having a tea party here,” you complained, heartbeat drumming in your ears as you heard the approaching steps echo from the stairs outside. You climbed on top of the bed that faced the door and raised a brow at the two guys staring at you as if they didn’t believe you were alright with what you had just proposed.
“Showtime, boss,” Hyunjae decided and literally dragged Juyeon’s jacket off him before drawing his sword out, he stood behind the door in case the soldiers would have come inside anyways. That left only the team’s leader, the guy who had once said you weren’t much of a lady, in front of you, looking like he had some internal conflict.
Ridiculous. It was just a fake act, even if he was terrible at pretending, he could have made an effort. You weren’t a bad face to look at, so he really could have at least not suffered so visibly about having to get close with you. Maybe you just imagined him cursing under his breath, maybe he really was that frustrated but at least you didn’t have to force him to get on the damn bed and unbutton his shirt a bit himself. Great.
“Could you not act as if it physically hurt you to touch m–” you muttered under your breath, annoyed but Juyeon cut you off with a simple movement. He climbed over you, hovering over your body and slid a hand onto your neck, angling your head just right for a kiss that never came. Your lips parted in surprise but his only grazed against it slightly, your breaths mingling in the air while his piercing gaze shot right through you. It felt burning, the way he looked at you with those feline eyes from so close. You could practically feel the heat of his body, his skin scorching against yours – or was it you? – and your heart picked up its speed once again. The wait was nerve-wracking because you felt the tension stiffen in the air while you listened to the thuds of doors opening and closing, soldiers shouting.
When the door your room opened, revealing three men in black behind it, you pretended to be shocked and automatically reached to rearrange your clothes while Juyeon turned his head lazily towards the intruders.
“Who are you to disturb me? Did I not pay enough?” he yelled at the soldiers who exchanged knowing looks, but after looking around for suspicious signs, they indeed retreated.
You let out a breath when the door finally closed again and tried and failed not to roll your eyes at how fast Juyeon pulled away. Hyungseo cleared his throat and said something about seeing the two of you slightly undressed in a bed scarring him for life and one by one all the guys came out of their hiding place, only making comments about the recent events behind your backs.
After the visit of the soldiers, the tense atmosphere slowly dissolves into something like anticipation and determination to get done with their plan as soon as possible. You already had a good idea about the daily routine within the palace but with how frequently they changed their guards it would have been almost impossible to get through them without drawing too much attention and that was the least you wanted. If the royal guards knew about your arrival, you would have been too outnumbered to actually do anything, much less to get to the king himself. But you had a good card in your favour.
"So I will be taking the map back?"
"Right. If we have at least a bit of luck, the king and his men only know that you came to get that. Let's say you had trouble getting your hands on it..." Sangyeon explained which made you scoff out loud. You didn't mean to look down on them but it was ridiculously easy to get the map. Sure they had stood guard and they kept it locked away but a group of about ten guys was nothing you who had been robbing much more secured places than their bases. The most difficult part was to actually find them, after that it was like a children's play. So it somewhat hurt your pride and reputation as a thief to admit you had to waste days until you got it.
"Sure, we can say that I tried to seduce your boss to get the map here," you shrugged and glanced at said guy and knew that despite your nonchalant behaviour your words provoked him based on the way he clenched his jaw. "That would explain even if one of the guards recognized me. Though I don't see much of a chance for that. Although this much time would have been enough for you to get what you wanted from it, so the king will be displeased."
"Will you meet him in person?" Haknyeon asked since that was crucial information regarding your plan. If you were about to meet the king, then they must be there, too. But no, you only met the king once and the memory sent shivers down your spine. You were dragged in front of him, clothed rugged, dirt and bruises all over you as two guards held you. You weren't proud of how you had been crying but that day, you were sure you were about to die. As a daughter of servants in the royal palace, you had no way of providing a better life for yourself. You weren't only a subject to the king but his slave. When you were born that way, there was no chance of getting out. Born as a girl you couldn't become a guard, a soldier or a scholar. It was a time when the higher you could go was becoming a concubine but you had no intention of lying under the king or a prince.  You would have chosen death over that.
But no, the king must have wanted something since he didn't kill you with your parents when he learned about their betrayal, about how they sold information about him to his brother. No, he took your life and made sure to form you to his will, to make the perfect little thief and spy for him in exchange for letting you live. But he was naive to think that you would be loyal to the murdered of your parents. Because he might not have been the one to draw the sword but he was the one who gave the orders, him and not his stupid advisers who made your country rot and the people suffer.
"Probably not. He usually gives me orders through his right hand man," you said, knowing too well that said man had his temperament to match the king's. They would beat you just enough, so you could steal more for them. Maybe break only your left hand to cause enough pain but not turning you incapable for them. You were an asset, nothing more and you hated it.
"What will happen to you because of your latency?" came the next question and gulping down your own fears, you waved it off, forcing a confident expression onto your face.
"Don't worry about me and break into the king's quarters like you should," you told them, clear as the sky was on summer afternoons you had liked as a child.
The truth was, everybody knew what happened to those who displeased the king. It wouldn't matter that you bring back the desired map. If you were late, it was the same as not going along with the order.
"You should have someone to be there with you," Juyeon spoke up for the first time for a while, his gaze fixated on the map without a fail and it made the corners of your mouth twitch. It almost sounded like he cared.
"Are you worried about me, Lee Juyeon?" you raised a brow at him, cunningly like a tease but when he looked up and your eyes met, the words froze onto the tip of your tongue. There was something sad in his eyes, something you had failed to notice before. As if he understood you more than you would have thought.
"Of course, we are all worried about you!" Changmin said vehemently and you tore your gaze away from the raven haired boy to turn to him with a grateful smile.
"Then, focus on not getting yourself killed first. I can take care of myself," you claimed and kept acting like it through the meeting, deciding on the upcoming Lotus festival celebration's night for the attack. There might have been more guards around then but with more guests in the palace, it would have been easier to blend in. No to mention that the king being drunk could probably help too.
It was a good plan, one you believed in. One that could finally bring you peace and freedom. You didn't want to delude yourself too early, so you tried not to think too much about it. If the mission wasn't successful you would have been killed for sure since what you were about to do was treason and no traitor could live in Hanseong.
It was a two way street then: freedom or death. Free from the king's chains either way. Yet, the night before the Lotus festival, you found it hard to sleep. You were fidgety, even snapped at Changmin when he tried to make a joke about you finally looking like yourself in your regular clothes instead of the courtesan one. You apologized and he understood, everybody was tense after all but it showed differently. Juyeon for example was even more closed off and quieter than usual. You didn't expect to run into him at night, though.
It was eerily quiet in the corridors and you just wanted to get some fresh air, outside of the suffocating atmosphere of your room. Meeting him by the gate, however, wasn't the plan.
"Are you ditching us?" he asked in a hoarse voice, back leaning against the brick wall as soon as you passed by him like wind. His voice was more passive and sad than angry and you remembered how he warned, threatened you to kill you if you decided to betray their trust. Sure, you could have ratted them out, saving yourself but did he really trust you so little?
"I don't know. Should I?" you retorted just for the sake of it because it was ridiculous: his suspicion of you even after all this time. But he didn't answer, so you rolled your eyes. "I just needed some air. Just like you, I assume."
Juyeon seemed to complement over your reply but he must have deemed it good enough because he turned his deadly gaze away. You didn't intend to have a heart-to-heart talk with him but since you might die tomorrow, it was your last chance to ask questions like:
"You already know my reason for treason but what's yours? And don't give me some crap like for a better and fair future," you turned to him but you were careful enough to look around before talking about something like that in public.
However, Juyeon either wanted to avoid answering or simply didn't like the place as he bob his head towards the courtesan house and as his sign, you went back inside, finding solace in your empty room. It had been a long while since you had been alone with him and you remembered what happened here the last time when you were this close… even closer. Now you both sat on the ground, backs to the wall, no touching, no smart retorts, no audience.
"Have you heard the story of the Crown Prince?" Juyeon spoke up but his question made you furrow your brows.
"About Prince Hyunjoon? What story?" you wondered out loud as confused as you were. Prince Hyunjoon had been sent to study in a prestigious academy as it had been advised to the king but it was probably not for his own good, there were rumours going around that he had sent the boy away because he feared he would try to take his throne from him. He had grown to be paranoid.
"No, not him. The first born prince," Juyeon corrected you and that made sense, you couldn’t recall anything else that was interesting regarding the next ruler of the country. You believed that after his father’s death, even if he was inexperienced, he could make a better king. He was said to be kindhearted after all.
"Ah, the prince who died almost 20 years ago?"
Your question had been left hanging for a few long moments and you even turned to face Juyeon, wondering whether he heard up but what he said next made your eyes grow comically wide.
"He didn't die,” he claimed so sure of himself that it left no doubts even though it was already crazy. “But he has always been unworthy of the title of the crown prince."
"What do you mean? And how do you know?" you sprouted questions because in that moment you could do only that, even forgetting how it came up in the first place. 
"You see, the crown prince was indeed the son of the queen but just as the king wasn't faithful, she wasn't either. She had her child out of wedlock but raised him as if he was the kind of royal the king desired,” the boy continued quietly, looking down at his hands, playing with a ring on his pinkie finger. “The king figured out and he was furious. He got the queen killed but the boy was rescued by rebels. He was only six at the time but from one day to another, his father who had never been a kind man became his biggest enemy, so he had  grown up seeking revenge.”
You had listened to this story, his story, you were sure, and you couldn’t have been more shocked. You knew that the king was an awfully temperamental man but killing his own wife and a child? And these days he got drunk and had multiple women in his quarters? It made you sick.
“That’s my reason for treason,” Juyeon added slowly, quietly, almost gentle and for the first time you wanted to tell him something reassuring, something so unlike you but it wasn’t your place to pat him on the back and tell him everything would be alright.
“I… I never knew. I have grown up in the palace but I have only heard that the first prince had died and his death broke the queen’s heart, too,” you whispered, suddenly feeling naive but who would have thought?
“Not many people know. He hid it well,” the boy gritted his teeth, then exhaled a few shaky breaths. “But Hyunjoon knows and he’s on our side. He will make a good king.”
You hummed along, agreeing, hoping for better days and that you could live long enough to enjoy those.
"Look, I know you hate me..." you started off, not trying to come off as someone close to him just because he told you this but then, he unexpectedly cut you off. His confident voice caught you off guard so much that it had your eyes widen in surprise.
"I don't," he said and you might have only imagined it but he sounded a bit nervous. He probably wasn’t used to talking about his feelings, even if it was hate. Now, that made two of you. "I did hate you but... I hate everything that I associate with the king and you... I have seen the bag of gold coins paid for killing my mother and me."
Ah. So that was why he hated ‘your kind’ so much. The kind that took dirty money and accomplished any task thrown in their way, even murdering an innocent child. It made sense, the murderous look in his eye, the disgust he had written all over the place whenever he looked at you. He probably associated you with those who had taken his mother away from him.
“I’m just a thief. I never killed anyone, even though some I encountered would have deserved it,” you told him. You didn’t owe him an explanation or anything for that matter but still, you wanted him to hear that from you because you knew how your reputation made you sound.
"I know," Juyeon stated, oddly calm and you were dumbfounded to notice the subtle smile in the corner of his mouth before he turned his head to look at you. Dark orbs finding yours, stirring something inside you. "Your aim is too shitty for you to be a killer."
"Yah!" you gasped, pseudo-offended but then laughed it off and for the first time in a long while, for a moment you felt light and at ease. Who knew Juyeon could make you feel that way too and not just boil your blood in an annoying way.
Looking back, you should have known better. You should have seen that something was off. But your mission was planned so well that you believed the smooth execution was thanks to all those long days who had put into it and all those months and years of preparation that Juyeon and his team had behind their backs in order to even dare such a thing.
Getting into the palace during the Lotus Festival was easy. A lot of people came and went during the parade and the palace was buzzing with life. The king looked like he was having fun as well, maybe a bit too much with how often his glass was refilled with rice wine but his recklessness was only working into your favour. By the time the celebrations became dull enough for the ruler to leave, you left your signal in the throne room, wishing for counsel. It was always like this but you never met the king during these times, you didn’t even mind it. Still, waiting in the half-lit room was quite nerve-wracking while you prayed for the others to be able to make their way to the king’s chambers without any hitch. You knelt before the empty throne, head onto the ground, waiting like a good, loyal subject and you suppressed the shudder running through you when you heard approaching, arrogant steps.
“You’re late,” a voice said and you still kept your head down. But you were ready to draw your dagger any needed moment.
“My deepest apology, Your Majesty. I tried to be as quick as possible,” you mumbled out an excuse knowing well that until the right hand let you know that he wasn’t the king, you had to act as if he was.
“Then you were too slow,” the man grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look at him and with widened eyes, you saw those ruthless ones that had been haunting your dreams since your parents’ death. There was the king in front of you.
But… the whole team had clearly seen him go to his chambers! Then… who was that? Who played that role in the trap? How far would they have gone? What was waiting for the others on their way to the king’s main bedroom? You had to warn them somehow!
"You really thought you could double-cross me? You thought I wouldn't know that you betray me?" the king clicked his tongue, earning your attention again, injecting fear into your veins. You wanted to turn your head, to pull away, to yell at Changmin to go and let the others know but before you could have done any of that, the king pushed you onto the ground.
"Ah, looking for your friend?" he asked mockingly and with a flick of his wristy he called for his guards, the men who carried the luml body of a familiar face.
"No! Changmin!" you shrieked in panic. He was supposed to keep an eye on you, not getting caught. Now, that it wasn't just you in immediate danger, worries took over your chest almost suffocating you.
"Although I should be grateful since you brought my long lost son back home, so I could finish the job my men couldn't," the king tilted his head as if he was pondering over the thought. Your fingers curled up in a fist, glaring at the man with hatred. He played with all of you like a cat played with mice before eating. He enjoyed your suffering and the mind games he played but you weren't keen on being one of his pawns. Not anymore.
Juyeon was ready to kill the king, even if he had to die and in a way you both just wanted revenge and freedom. You had never been a killer but you were ready to die trying in order to end the rule of a tyrant and to save the guys who had become your comrades and friends over the past few days, weeks and anyone who had the same destiny as you. Nobody deserved to have their life hung by a thread of an ultimate made by one side.
So you decided to make a risky move, a reckless one as you reached for the dagger in your belt, throwing it at the smug man the next time he turned towards you. It was a hasty movement, surprising enough for the guards to rush to the king's side but Juyeon was right: your aim was shitty.
Instead of his chest, the dagger barely grazed the king's upper arm and fell onto the ground with a pathetic thud. The man just laughed as if it was funny and picked up your weapon, turning it against you. You gulped as you backed up until the wall. You heard Changmin yelling at you to run while trying to free himself from the guards but you couldn't move, you just stood there, frozen, and watched as the man lifted his hand to strike down at you with the blade. You flinched when he moved, closing your eyes like a coward and only opened them when you felt the man get wobbly in front of you, falling onto his knees from the dagger getting him from behind. Blood spilled from his mouth as his body shook before giving up the fight and you let out a relieved sigh. Such an unceremonious, simple way for a king to die but he didn't deserve more.
"Are you okay?" Juyeon asked, voice honeyed with care and even his dark eyes softened as he stepped closer to check on you, looking for bruises. The same eyes you noticed behind the king when he approached and you had to try your best not to show surprise and relief.
"Yeah. You got here just in time. How did you know?" you gaped at the guy and the others who fought off the guards in the meantime. If the king's bedroom was a trap, how did they get out?
"That man didn't have a limp. I realized he had been a fake one to begin with," he said simply as if it was natural but you had no idea the king had a limp up until now. You still tended to forget he had lived in the palace, close to the king in his childhood and now you tried to imagine him on a throne. It was easier than ever with you being in the throne room with a dead king but Juyeon had never had the ambitions to govern.
"Well, next time you could be faster," you teased, trying to lighten up the atmosphere and luckily, the team's leader didn't seem to mind. His smug smile was back and you would have rolled your eyes if he hadn't just saved your life.
"Will there be a next time? When you're being cornered by a man?" he raised an eyebrow challengingly, a little suggestively but instead of hitting him on the chest, you raised your chin and played the same game:
"Who knows? I keep getting into these situations since I got to know you," you tsked and there was no lie in there. Juyeon smiled at you, sincerely, his eyes holding a secret only the two of you knew but he was practically pushed aside when Changmin came to make sure you weren't hurt, mumbling something stupid about it being his fault.
Juyeon looked around, proud to see his men fight for the same cause and their efforts paying off. When it was finally time for you to leave and start a new chapter in your life, you looked back on the empty throne and the bloody crown on the floor.
“We don’t need a king sitting high on his throne, it’s the time of dogs and wolves,” Juyeon muttered and outside, the Lotus Festival continued as if nothing happened. Smiling, you joined the celebrations.
So this is what it tasted like: freedom.
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glowingbadger · 3 years
Note
God your galaxy brain brat tamer!Zelgius is just *chef's kiss*
If you don't mind, how about a request for Zelgius and a little bratty fem!s/o (with a size kink 😩) teasing him and riling him up all day
YES please ugh. I wish all cute little subs a very get railed by your big strong dom~
CW: punishment, brat taming, sub/dom
Zelgius (FE:POR/RD) x Fem Reader
NSFW 18+
You know fully well that you're playing a dangerous game. Not many would intentionally provoke Zelgius, easily the strongest of Begnion's army, among other less widely known accolades. Most would assume that even his lover would hardly dare such a thing. Yet you'd resolved to spend the day testing the waters of what you could get away with.
He'd noticed immediately, of course; even the hint of a coy glint in your eye as you'd looked him over that morning was enough to imply your intentions. At the time, he'd only raised an eyebrow curiously, observed your tighter-than-usual attire, cleared his throat and went about his duties. Later on, you come to visit him between training exercises with his troops. While you know that interrupting their regiment would be beyond the pale, you do dare to punctuate your little chat with a lingering kiss on his cheek- which of course, you ensure happens in full view of his subordinates. While stifled chuckles and whispered comments move through their ranks in a wave, Zelgius' eyes narrow and lock on you as you turn innocently to leave him to his work.
Finally, a number of lingering looks and light touches later, you make the move that you know will earn you your punishment. In the middle of a droll strategy debriefing, you sit beside your stoic lover as he reviews the status and morale of his troops for those in attendance. Then, as he speaks, your hand rests gently on his firm thigh. If he notices, gives no indication, merely continuing his report. Yet as he makes his final notes, your touch slides gradually up his thigh, reaching warmer and more dangerous territory.
The moment he concludes his review, he directs a sideways glance at you that makes his intentions abundantly clear. The quiet fury in his eyes tells you clearly that you will pay for your behavior- and by now, you're eager for it.
You enter his quarters that night with a mischievous smirk and a pounding heart. He makes as handsome a picture as always, seated at his desk with immaculate posture as he writes what looks like some form of correspondence- likely to that mysterious master of his who, even now, he refuses to speak of to you in any detail. When you approach, Zelgius doesn't acknowledge you until you drape your arms around his broad shoulders and nestle your face against thick black hair. Whatever he's writing, he turns it face down onto the desk, then side-eyes you and says,
"You have been absolutely incorrigible today."
"I'm certain I don't know what you mean," you reply, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. With a sigh of exasperation, he pushes himself out a bit from his desk. Then, his hand finds your waist and he directs you forcefully to stand in front of him.
"I know you're quite aware of your own attempts at provocation," he says firmly, "and as I'm sure you are also aware, there will be consequences to follow." His voice bears a dangerous edge, but you bite at your lip and smile sweetly.
"Attempts at provocation?" you ask playfully, "it seems to me like I've succeeded."
You only see the flash in his darkened eyes for a moment before he seizes you by your hips and turns you toward his desk. As your next sassy response begins to form in your mind, he raises his hand behind you, and when he brings it down across your ass, you give a gasping yelp and subconsciously bend forward over the desk. The rounded flesh of your backside jiggles and aches at the impact, but you hardly notice amidst the rush of arousal that plunges through your center. Zelgius only spanks you once- he knows once is all that's needed. Then, he tugs down your underclothes and pushes up your sorry excuse for a skirt, he sees that the spot he struck is already tinted an angry red. When you manage to speak, you can't possibly camouflage the lust in your voice with affected defiance.
"Is- is that all? You know I can take more."
"Don't try this with me, Y/N." Zelgius warns. His large hands cup your ass cheeks and squeeze them, bouncing them before him and emphasizing the sore spot of where he spanked you.
"I thought you said there would be consequence-"
A strangled cry pulls from your throat as he brings down his hand on your other cheek, striking you harder this time and immediately matching the first bruise. You're panting, clinging to the desk beneath you, yet he doesn't say a word. Only vaguely aware of the sensation, his thumbs part the puffy lips of your pussy before him. The cool air of his quarters meets the wet heat at your core, finally drawing your attention from the lingering pain of your backside. Then, you feel yourself spread open for him, his strong fingers even stretching the opening of your drooling cunt a little as he observes you.
"How shameful," he says, his voice low and masculine, "Could it be that misbehaving arouses you? How truly depraved."
All at once, you lose your footing and come tumbling backward onto Zelgius' lap as he tugs you down onto him. His hands hook under your knees and force your legs to sling over his thighs, spreading you open for him while your torso rests back against his hard, muscular chest.
"No matter," he growls against your ear as one hand works his member out of the front of his breeches, the other holding you firmly to him, "I will be certain to remind you of your place."
"You and what-" you're cut off again, this time by his hot, hard length pressing between your lower lips. He doesn't enter you- not yet. Instead, your labia slide against his thick, veined shaft, and glancing down, you can see the impressive length curving up between your parted thighs. "Oh..." you whimper softly at the sight of it, flushed to a dark red and practically threatening you with its presence.
Then, Zelgius lifts you, his powerful arms handling you like a helpless doll. You're left uselessly whining for him, arched back against his larger frame behind you as he aligns the tip of his manhood with your now soaked pussy. And when he lowers you onto the throbbing mass of his cock, he first nestles only the head inside of you. Zelgius allows your legs to support you just a bit on his lap, and you instinctively try to hold yourself up, prevent yourself from taking too much of him at once.
"I thought this was your aim," he says with clear derision in his voice, "Come now, hurry up and take it deeper."
"I- I can't- AAH-!!"
He grips your hips so hard they ache, and all at once, he forces you down onto his cock. You go completely limp against his body, your thighs violently shaking and your gut screaming with pain and pleasure. Your lips form the syllables of his name, but you can't utter a sound other than the occasional gasp for air. Zelgius trails battle-calloused hands up your sides, taking his time with the curves of your hips and waist, then up towards your breasts. Your vision blurs in and out of focus, but by the time you've just about caught your breath, you feel his fingers begin to roughly tug and pinch at your nipples, which stiffen immediately in reply.
"Zelgius- puh- please-!"
"Where has that rebellious spirit of yours gone, I wonder?" he says, his breath warm against your face, "I had hoped you would have a little more fight in you."
"Too... big-!" you whine, leaning your head against him as you attempt to shift your hips enough to accomodate for his massive length invading your body. Zelgius gives a contemplative hum, and while one of those large, powerful hands remains at your chest to fondle you at his leisure, the other slides down the front of your body.
"Where do you feel the tip, Y/N?" He murmurs as his touch reaches your pelvis, "Roughly... here, would you say?"
At first, you only produce a weak little moan.
"Answer me," he prompts, and by now, you won't dare to disobey him. You inhale deeply and force yourself to say,
"Deeper- it's... deeper than that."
"Show me." Zelgius' voice rumbles behind you. With trembling hands, you guide his own higher up your body, until it's just below your navel. "Here?" he asks, and you nod. Then, he presses down on the spot, and you gasp out his name as your eyes roll back. He's creating an unbearable pressure at the point where the thick head of his cock nudges up against your womb. Tears bead the corners of your eyes, but Zelgius either doesn't notice or doesn't care.
His hands leave your body quite suddenly, but before you can question him, his grip is at the back of your throat.
"Ride it," he commands, sitting back in his chair with his hold firm around your neck, "You wanted this badly enough to squander your day taunting me, so now is your opportunity to show me how grateful you are."
Your entire body burns, your thighs tremble with the strain of merely holding him inside of your stretched and abused cunt- but you force yourself to obey him. Slowly, carefully, you rock your hips forward, then back, grinding onto him and feeling his veins and contours rubbing against your inner walls with every shift. You brace yourself on the arms of the chair and push yourself up just enough to bounce your body up and down on his shaft. All the while, his hold on your throat never loosens. With time, he even uses this leverage to force you into his preferred rhythm, pushing you down onto his cock as he likes. And despite yourself, you can't withstand the incredible rush of being punished and used like this- like all you're good for is taking your powerful lover's cock. Your cunt twitches and squeezes in around him, your panting breath comes faster, more stilted. At last, your head tilts back, and Zelgius can obviously feel you cumming around him.
He scoffs, and for a moment, releases your throat from his grasp.
"You've cum already? What a disgraceful lack of endurance," he says, the words hardly reaching you through your pleasured daze. Then, his hands are at your hips once more, and he snarls against your ear, "I am nowhere near sated."
Zelgius brings you down onto the full length of his manhood with such force that, for a moment, you forget how to breathe. Any last vestiges of strength or resistance you might have had now vanish as he slams into you to the base. His hips push upward as his grip slams you down to meet him, and if you could even form a coherent thought, you might worry that he's bruising something inside of you. In no time at all, he's reduced you to a gasping, whining mess on his lap, your inner thighs coated in your release and your entire frame trembling against him.
His pace only increases, and by now, all you can do is lie boneless in his arms as Zelgius ruins you. You feel so small- so absolutely helpless- and it's wonderful. Subject to this mind-numbing pleasure, you can't imagine why you ever wanted to go against your lover's wishes to begin with. Now, feeling the bulging veins and ridged head of his cock dragging along your inner walls as he fucks up into you, you truly feel that you would do and give anything to remain forever as an obedient slave to his body.
"How dare you try to taunt me!" Zelgius practically roars as he fucks you senseless and breathless, "You've no one to blame but yourself for this treatment-! Do I make myself perfectly clear?!"
"Yeh-yesss...!!"
"What's that?!"
"Ye-yessir-!!" you cry, and at long, long last, Zelgius forces his full member into your deepest point, letting out husky groans through gritted teeth as his cum bursts out deep within you. His release is hot and thick as it fills you, each shot like an impact against your inner walls. You give a barely audible whimper at each volley, until finally, you feel his muscles begin to relax, and his spent cock give one final pleasurable twitch.
He huffs out a sigh and carefully lifts you up off of his length- but he knows full well that you're in no state to support your own weight. Instead, he cradles you to him and places a soft kiss to your forehead; and it would be a sweet and tender gesture if not for the excess cum already dripping down your inner thighs. Zelgius notes this with raised eyebrows, then exhales once more.
"Come now, let's get you cleaned up."
You wear a dazed, blissful smile, nuzzling against his chest as he carries you, and you murmur,
"Yes, sir..."
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wizkiddx · 3 years
Text
unusable faces
i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)
PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker​ --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link
Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader
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^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)
A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA. 
To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:
Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.
Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning
Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set
The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.
Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.  
The joys of success hey?
Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.
“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently
“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave. 
“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.
“You mean laugh at us?” 
“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.
Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.
“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.
“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable. 
“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed. 
“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend. 
“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.
“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially. 
“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid;  when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be. 
“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.
“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”
After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.
At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that. 
Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks. 
“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)
Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras. 
So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man. 
“You good?” His answer was predictable. 
“I’m so fucking shattered”
Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.
“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”
Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands. 
Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other. 
So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end. 
Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.
“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything. 
So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.
“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”
“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away. 
Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.
The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph. 
“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.
For fear of getting hurt. 
So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his. 
“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing. 
The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.
“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs. 
“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.
“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”
“Yeh me… me too”
And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.
What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.
It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.
Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.
Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else. 
So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep. 
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Text
nancy/ace; 2x11 drabble
Her nose itches, her fingers are freezing, and she’s ninety percent sure that’s blood over there on the asphalt.
She swipes a lock of rain-damp copper hair away from her eyes and tries to calm the rapid pulse of adrenaline shooting through her veins. It threatens to spike again at the sight of deep, claw-shaped gouges in the metal of the truck parked in the centre of them all.
Someone—a girl in a dirt streaked white jacket—screams. It all happens pretty fast after that.
“Like a heat emergency?”
“There’s something wired into the engine.”
“Guess we inhaled.”
The five of them hold themselves like caught breath. The glass bauble holding the key to their memories swirls lazily in front of them, like it’s got all the time in the world to let them figure this out themselves. A low grunt cuts through the tension.
“Hey, does anyone here know where I can get some bandages?” the guy that spoke last adds. Their eyes all move in unison, down to where he’s gingerly cradling his leg. Even in the dull, overcast light a great gash is clearly visible across his thigh. “‘Cause, ow.”
Instinct has her moving first, ushering them all towards the shack that’s signposted as The Claw. “Okay. Let’s try in there.”
The restaurant is empty other than a whirlwind of debris, made up of makeshift weaponry and pieces of scrawled on paper, littering nearly every available surface.
“Hey, look,” one of the other girls says, pointing. In the corner of the room stands a pinboard. Among an array of other things, photos of each of them are tacked to it. “It looks like we made ourselves reminders of who we are.”
“Can you read ours out while I,” she gestures at the soaked denim covering the thigh of the guy with the soft-looking hair.
When she glances up he’s already looking down at her, where she’s pressed up against his shoulder, a contemplative expression on his face.
“Did you know you stand very close?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean—” She takes a step away on the pretence of finding the first aid kit.
He follows, grimaces when he puts too much weight on his injured leg. “That’s okay. You smell quite nice. Flowery.”
“Oh. I— Thank you. You… have very pretty eyes.” She ushers him into the closest chair as an excuse to hide the redness tinting her cheeks.
“Thanks. If I remembered what they looked like I’m sure I’d agree.”
She learns she's Nancy and he’s Ace, and, beyond the fact they both work here, very little else.
“And I’m Nick’s girlfriend,” she hears the girl, George, say.
The other boy, Nick, grins back at her. “Nice.”
Their chatter, cut through with the more discernible lilt of a British accent—belonging to Bess, Nancy repeats to herself—fades into the background as she tries to get her fingers to cooperate enough to do a decent job of stemming the blood flowing from the cut. And it is a cut, too clean to have been made by the same thing that attacked the truck outside. She files that information away for later.
Ace, for his part, puts up with her fumbling with minimal resistance. He only starts to shift in his seat when Nancy can sense he’s gearing up to speak.
“You think,” Ace begins, barely a second later. So, she thinks, allowing herself the barest smirk, maybe she knows him pretty well. “You think any of the rest of us are dating?”
That throws her. “If we are, we didn’t write it down on the cards,” she answers diplomatically.
“Right, of course.”
Nancy doesn’t know what it is, but she doesn’t like that she’s the reason those eyes have dulled by a fraction. “Maybe it’s a new thing,” she corrects in a rush. She clears her throat, trying to put as much of her attention into taping up Ace’s leg as possible. “Hypothetically. We haven’t told people yet so we didn’t write it down. Although, it’s not like they’d remember right now if we did.”
Nancy exhales shakily. This… whatever this flustered feeling flapping about in her chest is, it’s throwing her. She gets the sense she’s usually more sure footed.
“I’d definitely want to tell people. If, say, you and me… you know. Were,” Ace says. He catches her eye and holds it, the smooth lines of his face betraying nothing but sincerity.
The warmth in her cheeks is back. “Guess we’ll find out when we get our memories back,” Nancy murmurs. She secures the last of the bandages and draws away.
A smile, part puckish, part shy, hides at the corners of his mouth. “Fingers crossed.”
.
.
.
“If this place isn’t cleaned up by tomorrow a Viking god isn’t the only one who will be unleashing their wrath upon you.”
Nancy looks up from where she’s sweeping away the worst of the mess to lock eyes with Bess on the other side of the counter.
“It’s so good to have the old George back, isn’t it?” Bess says sweetly, even as she violently wrings out the dish rag between her hands.
Nancy’s snort gets lost to Nick loudly interrupting before George has a chance to bite back. “I, for one, think it’s very good.” He leans down to drop a soft kiss to her upturned lips, staying there until some of the tension leaks from George’s shoulders.
Allowing herself a deep inhale, Nancy turns away to pick up her full dustpan and carry it out back towards the trash.
“Oh!” She rounds the corner, drawing up short to stop herself colliding with Ace’s chest, grip tightening on the dustpan to keep it stable. “Sorry, excuse me.”
Ace drops his hands from her elbows now that she’s steady, but otherwise stands his ground. “They never show you this part in the movies. I think far less people would be tempted to invoke supernatural entities if they all ended with a cleaning montage.”
They’re standing so near she’d have to crane her head back to look him in the eye, but they’re pressed way too close for that. Instead, she keeps her gaze downwards where it catches on her haphazard patch up of his leg wound.
“Speaking of clean up, you should really go and get that checked out. I am no nurse and it is probably on its way to being infected as we speak.”
“What did I just say about invoking supernatural entities? I heard about George’s wrath from way back here.”
“Go,” Nancy says, rolling her eyes. “You’ve got a good enough excuse to bail.” She gives his arm a little shove, as much to get him moving as to give herself some space to breathe.
She wasn’t sure, when they’d all stood over the apparatus and inhaled their memories, if they’d get to retain every reset they went through. And as the different versions of herself poured back into her head, playing like the slides of a movie, she didn’t know if she was happy that, apparently, they got to remember it all.
She swallows, making an attempt for light. “Besides, I’d say I’m well equipped to deal with vengeance at this point, even from a harried George. I’ve got your back.”
“Would never doubt the Hero of Horseshoe Bay.”
He still doesn’t move to leave, waiting, and the pressure of one reset in particular is building in her chest until she can’t not say anything anymore.
“Listen, Ace,” she calls out when he’s about to let the back door swing shut behind him. “About… about some of the things that were said when we were… not really us.” Nancy let’s her eyes flutter closed for a breath, steeling her nerve in the face of Ace’s ever unreadable expression. “Today was strange enough without trying to figure anything else out. We can just forget it all happened. It’s okay.”
Silence stretches out between them, and Nancy is about ready to hitch up the last of her dignity and leave when Ace speaks.
“I think,” he says, tapping his fingers against the edge of the door. “I’ve had enough forgetting for one day.”
She catches a flash of that same smile from earlier, the one that’s just for her, as he rounds the corner. “Goodnight, Nancy.”
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