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seungmoonandstars · 3 months

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𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹

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Kim Seungmin/noona reader

wc: 5.9k

rating: angst/mature/18+ ಇ (idiots trying to get to lovers/mutual pining)

contains: drinking/drunkiness, implied mental illness, medication mention, weight mention

comments: Part two of this noona fic request. Not sure how much interest there is in this (there's more, because I love writing it and I needed some angst), but let me know if you guys like it!

songs to listen to while reading: orion sun - intro // chloe george - when does it get good

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Seungmin feels around in the dark, and he knows at any moment, he’s going to trip. The layout of your apartment is still foreign to him, but he likes it here, and he wants to get used to being here. It’s a welcome change from the dorm—there it's usually a mess. It smells, it tends to get loud at the worst moments, and the worst part of all is that you’re not there. Ever.

He’s a bit embarrassed of the place, even though his room is usually clean and ready for company. It’s better here, though. It’s always quiet, and warm, and it smells like vanilla and coffee, even now, in the middle of the night.

As much as he wanted to keep things between the two of you, for now, it did not work. Seungmin came home very late the night after he confessed (and you confessed), so it was easy for everyone to figure out. Still, though, he hasn’t talked much about it in the three days since. And now, somehow, he’s ended up at your apartment, and it’s well past midnight.

You fell asleep on the couch watching a movie, tucked against his side, and he shook you awake eventually.

“Time to get to bed, yeah?” He said, and he gave you a few more minutes to collect yourself before helping you up. Then he guided you into the bedroom, but he just stood there at the door for a moment, watching, waiting until you turned to him and smiled.

“Goodnight”

“You’re leaving?” You check the time on your phone. It's late.

“Yeah, I should go,” his heartbeat picks up a little as he casually looks around your room. This is his first time seeing it., and Seungmin thinks to himself how very you it is—the colors, the mix of adult and not-so-adult, pages from magazines and photobooks pinned to a corkboard next to very important looking things. He sees his face pinned there as well; a closeup of him, ripped neatly from the Noeasy photobook. No, two photos of him...three.

“Okay. You don’t have to, but…” you think, look around, look back at him, “text me when you get home, okay?”

“I will”

He clicks the hall light off as he makes his way toward the door, and with the glow of the tv gone, it’s suddenly very, very dark. The light of his phone helps, but he hits his foot on the coffee table, of course, and then he finally grabs his bag. Luckily it takes him a few extra minutes to fight into his shoes, because a text comes through just as he goes for the door.

don’t leave yet

Seungmin looks toward your bedroom door and waits. One, two, three seconds. It swings open, and you leave it there so the light pours out and illuminates him.

“Did I forget something?”

You stop in front of him and nod, “I did,” and grab the front of his shirt to pull him down. You kiss, and he kisses right back. And then you let go. “Can I ask what’s in your backpack?”

“Huh? My…oh my bag. Just my usual stuff, uhm, it’s silly. Sometimes I feel like I’ll be pulled away when I have no time to pack, so I always carry something with me.”

“So that's your overnight bag?”

“I guess. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea...if it’s the wrong idea. I wasn’t expecting something to happen, I promise.”

“Seungmin, it’s okay. I just came out to kiss you goodnight, not question your motives.” You pull him to you again and kiss. “And you’re welcome to spend the night—on the couch, or in my bed. Preferably in my bed. But wherever you’re comfortable.”

His laugh is so nervous, and he hates it, “maybe next time?”

“Of course. I’m leaving for a while tomorrow, but I’ll let you know when I get home.”

“Will you be gone long?”

“No, a week at the most”

“A week. Okay, that’s not bad. If I’m home when you get back., we can do something.”

“Right, you might not be here”

You stare at each other silently, maybe hoping to read each other’s mind. You might not see him for a while and that was hard enough when you were just friends, pining endlessly. Now you’ve touched him and kissed him, and you need more time to do those things.

“I might be, though”

“Goodnight, Minnie”

This time he kisses you himself.

─ ⋅⋅ ─

“I’m not surprised…but at the same time I’m a little surprised,” Felix scratches his head. He’s watching Seungmin cross the kitchen to fill his glass with water.

He doesn’t notice everyone staring at him until he turns toward the coffee maker. “What?”

“Surprised why?” Minho cups his chin in his hand and smiles at both of them.

“How was your date last night, kid?”

"Date?" Minho jumps and grins at Seungmin.

“We just watched a movie, it was good. She’s leaving today so I won’t see her for a while.”

“Oh no, that’s no good. So—“

“What are you surprised about?!” Minho slap his palm on the table, “Yongbok!”

“I’m getting there!”

“You’ve never been to her place before, right? What brought that on…a movie at her apartment?”

Seungmin is making his coffee, patiently, and looking at his roommate as he takes his time getting to the point. But Felix waits as he makes his way to the table with them to press on.

“You never really told us what happened the other night. You two just disappeared.”

“Oh, we went to her place, so we could be alone…”

The three of them OH in unison, because Jeongin turns the corner just in time. Minho is still confused, and nobody seems to want to elaborate for him. All four of them here at the same doesn’t happen often, so Seungmin is feeling a little crowded

“…to talk.”

“Ooh,” Jeongin smiles, “and? Did you talk last night, too?”

“Not much, no”

Their eyes grow as they wait for more, but now Seungmin is having too much fun stringing them a long.

“Please continue”

“There’s nothing else,” he shrugs, “we drank a little, watched a movie, we both dozed off for a while, I think…no,” Seungmin throws a hand up when Felix' mouth turns up into a smirk. “It was a long movie, nothing else happened.”

“Did you kiss?” Jeongin leans closer and whispers, “you kissed, yeah?”

Seungmin can’t help but smile when he asks. He can feel his face grow warm just thinking about it. Last night, and then your first kiss. That one got much heavier than he expected, and he loved every second—the touching, your tongue, your fingers running through his hair. He doesn’t want to wait a week for more, but he’s not going to chase after you now. He has to be patient, again.

“You should have spent the night"

─ ⋅⋅ ─

You sit across from each other in the cafeteria, just like you’ve done a dozen times before. It’s not busy, not even at lunchtime, but looking up at him for too long is making your heart race. It’s not that you’re afraid someone will walk by and read your mind (but if they did, they might be disgusted), it just feels different being with him in public now.

It feels like you’re both doing something a little bit wrong.

Seungmin is a young idol, and he’s sweet and kind and innocent, as far as everyone knows. You’ve already seen his unfiltered self, and it’s better than any act he’s had to put on. But he is still sweet and kind and…you assume a little innocent. You’ve never talked about your sex lives, ever.

You look up at him and lock eyes. He smiles, and you can’t help but start undressing him. Yes, you’ve touched him, finally. His thigh—he let you run your hand from his knee and up you went until you knew it was time to stop—his neck, his shoulder, his face…but there’s still so much of him to touch and see. The part of your mind that you can't keep quiet is afraid there won't be many more oppurtunities.

You have to close your eyes and relax.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just thinking. Over-thinking.”

He smiles again, and you start to wonder if he’s doing it because he’s nervous.

“About us?”

Us? That’s a much bigger word than it was a few days ago. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good things?”

Good things, yes. As long as you stay focused, there's nothing to think about when it comes to him except for good things. “Yeah, of course.”

“How is your lunch? Spicy enough?”

“Is my face red?”

“A little, yes”

“No spice today, so it’s you doing that.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

What if he stays too late tonight, again? He doesn’t want to run off at the first mention of spending the night, because he wants to stay here with you. There was no expectation of it when you asked last time, he assumes, because he can sleep wherever he wants; he can do whatever he wants. And you wouldn’t pressure him anyway. He knows you better than that.

He knows nothing about your sex life, though. And almost nothing about your dating life.

Seungmin doesn’t really know much about either of those things when it comes to himself, actually. There was never much time to date, or it was low on the list. And having sex without at least dating someone doesn’t sit well with him.

But he has been on dates, and he has kissed, and touched, and he’s been touched right back. But that’s all. No sex—that blowjob didn’t count—it was awkward, and it wasn’t very good. And as hard as he tries, he can't forget his first time trying to find a clit.

“Do you want a drink?” You shake his arm until he finally seems to hear you, “drink…beer, coke, coffee?”

“Soju?”

“I have strawberry and peach”

“Strawberry somaek?”

You disappear into the fridge and dig around, and Seungmin watches carefully when you bend forward. He’s always admired your body, though it never had much to do with him liking you the way he did. But now, he feels like it’s okay to appreciate it more. You’re shorter than him, and curvier (which doesn’t take much, seeing as how Seungmin is basically a straight line). Your ass and thighs are an eyeful for him, though.

Everything looks soft. Everything is soft, because he did sneak his hand there that first night. He squeezed his fingers right above your knee, then moved up ever so slightly to get some thigh. He didn’t dare go any further, though.

The touching you did the second time was much more innocent—holding hands, fingers laced together, your head against his shoulder as you fell asleep. He looked you over carefully, but kept his hands to himself, only daring to run a thumb over your wrist as you dozed off.

“Would you like to pour, or do you trust me?”

Seungmin snaps out of it. He’s pretty sure you caught him staring. “I trust you.”

“Can you grab the glasses for me?”

He does, and he follows you back to the living room and makes himself comfortable at the coffee table. And now that he’s started, he can’t take his eyes off of you as you move.

“That’s…oh okay we have different pours,” Seungmin eyes the glass, but you pull it toward yourself. “That’s much more soju than I usually do.”

You pour his now, but only fill the glass a third of the way before topping it off with the beer.

“I thought maybe you were trying to soften me up.” His breath catches in his chest when he says it, because it sounded much more stupid than it did in his head.

“No, trying to soften myself up, actually.”

“Why? You can’t get drunk without me,” the frown he gives you is over the top and very cute. “I don’t want you to fall asleep too early.”

“I’ll be careful”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

Seungmin feels good after two glasses. It’s not much, but he hasn’t eaten recently, and he’s pretty certain his second drink was identical to yours.

You’re halfway through your third.

“These are too easy to drink.” You sit at the table with a dish of mandu and dakgangjeong. “And I’m guessing you’re hungry.”

“I usually am.” He leans forward and smells the chicken, “did you make all this.

You shake your head, “I’m not the best at cooking. I wish I had more time to practice.”

“That’s okay. Thank you for feeding me, and getting me tipsy.” He grabs a piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. And then a dumpling. And then finishes off his third somaek.

“You can’t be tipsy yet”

“I will be if I have another”

Seungmin does have another. And the for his next drink, he switches to straight beer—but he’s drunk. He picks up his chopsticks and grabs for a dumpling, but it slips off and bounces onto the table.

Both of you just stare at for a long moment. And then Seungmin giggles as he tries again. This time it makes it to his mouth.

“Where you going?”

He’s slowly getting to his feet, and he stands for a minutes to get his head straight.

“Bathroom”

“Good idea”

“Are you joining me?”

You stop halfway onto your feet and look up at him, his hand is outstretched like he’s welcoming the company, “ah…you first.”

It’s very obvious he had a bit too much. And you did, too, but you’re working hard to keep yourself together. When you walk back out from the bathroom, Seungmin is standing up, staring at the tv, and the rest of the chicken is making its way into his mouth. He looks comfortable and satisfied—drunk, yes…but happy.

It makes you warm up even more, and you can’t remember the last time you felt so good.

“Hey”

“Hi…hello, do you feel better? Do you want the last few pieces?” He holds some out to you, but it disappears into his mouth as soon as you shake your head. “We should sober up.”

Yes, you should. You sit on the couch and curl yourself up into a ball, but when he sits next to you, your limbs develop a mind of their own. Before you can stop yourself, you slide your arms around his waist and hold yourself tight against him. Your leg drapes over his lap, and you’re practically straddling his thighs. He takes it in stride, though. Seungmin holds you right back and takes the opportunity to slide a hand across your hip, and when he squeezes, you jump.

“Sorry”

“Mm mm, no…it’s good. Feels good.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, you’re so warm”

“I think that’s the alcohol”

“Maybe…maybe, but you always—“ you stop and start to giggle, and you shove your face into his shirt to try to stifle yourself.

“Always what?”

You shake your head against him, push harder against his chest, take in his scent…feel yourself becoming even more drunk. “Nothing.”

His hand slides back up and settles on your hip, “always something good, hopefully.”

“Sorry, my head is swimming.”

“Mine too”

“I was hoping the alcohol would help, but you’re making me so nervous.”

“You’re nervous? I’m making you nervous?”

“Yeah, maybe telling you will make it go away."

“I’m also nervous. I wasn’t the last time I was here…so maybe the drinks are working against us.”

You force yourself to look up at him, and he looks down at you with big, heavy eyes. Your gaze drops and takes in every bit of him—his cheeks, his nose, his lips…his lips. He wets them and a smile pulls at his mouth, and you desperately want him to lean down closer to you. Every part of you is screaming for him, but you’re still frozen.

He’s frozen, too. The booze just made both of you stupid.

“Seungmin?” You’ve never, not even as a teenager, felt so stupidly in love with someone.

“Yeah?”

The longer you watch him, the closer he seems to get, and you see every little detail, every little spot, every little perfect blemish and pore on his skin.

“Kiss me before I explode”

His lips press into yours and his fingers squeeze so hard again. You want him to hold you tighter still, and you need to be closer. He does. Seungmin moves you until you’re on his lap, and he devours you. He’s all tongue, and it’s wet and messy, not like his previous kisses, but it’s so good tasting him, and tasting the entire night on him.

Then he stops suddenly to catch his breath, but he stays there and bites down lightly on your bottom lip. Your eyes open, and he’s right there, staring. He pulls back, looks at the space between your thighs, and there’s not much there. If you let yourself relax a little more, you’d feel his dick growing in his sweatpants.

But you can see it. You’re no longer frozen, so you shake the thought of what’s between his legs out of your head, for now. Both of you are way too fucked up for the first time. What you do need to do is kiss him again, so you take over, squeeze his shoulders and hold him steady while you lick across his parted lips. Seungmin opens up for you and he moans into the kiss—moans right down your throat.

You shake your head, “we should stop until we’re, um…I don’t wanna do this drunk.”

“I don’t either,” he keeps kissing, but slows down and softens his touch. His hands move to your waist, and then your back, where they stay.

“But don’t leave tonight”

“I won’t”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

Seungmin watches you from his side of your bed. He did fall asleep for a while, but he woke from a dream and forgot for a few moments where he was. His racing heart beat against the mattress as he looked toward you, facing away from him, shirt pulled halfway up your back. You kicked the covers off in your sleep—probably too warm from sobering up, but so deeply asleep. Still, he reaches out and runs two fingers down the skin that’s peeking out.

You move ever so slightly, and mumble something. He looks at the time: just after 4am. You’ve been asleep for about three hours, because both of you were out as soon as you hit the bed.

But Seungmin feels better. Less drunk, at least. His head aches a little, but not enough to bother him. He reaches out again, but this time he pulls at your shirt until you’re covered.

“Minnie”

“I’m up, you feel okay?”

You mumble again, and groan, but you don’t answer.

“Minnie…hmmm, don’t leave”

“Hey,” he crawls closer and runs a hand down your arm, “hey, oh you’re still asleep.”

You wake up when you feel his lips on your shoulder. “Min?”

“Are you up or talking in your sleep?”

“I’m up…oh no, what did I say?” You turn onto your back and grab his hand. “I don’t do that all the time.”

“Just my name”

“Oh”

“And you told me not to leave,” he squeezes your hand and searches for the soberness in your eyes, “I’m still here.”

“Sorry, I don’t usually speak so clearly”

The sleep-talking doesn’t phase him. In fact, the quietness of the room is a welcome change to his typical nights. The whole night, drunk as you both were, was quiet and calm. “Were you thinking about me in your sleep?”

“I must have been,” you move his hair away from his eyes, and now you’re searching for any leftover drunkenness. He seems wide awake and sober.

“It’s 4 in the morning, if you’re still tired…we can go back to sleep.” That’s not what he wants, but he also wants what you want. Seungmin figured you’d get into bed and both of you would sleep soundly until morning. But he woke up.

“No, I feel good. And you look good.”

The truth is, you are very tired. If you close your eyes right now, you have no doubt that you would fall back to sleep almost immediately. Instead you rip off the rest of the blanket and sit up.

“Where are you going?”

He watches you stand slowly, carefully, just in case. But your legs work just fine. Maybe Seungmin can change that. The thought sends a little wave a pleasure through you, and you smile when you turn to look at him, “bathroom.”

That is what you do, but you dig through the drawer under the sink as well. You didnt prepare properly, because you didn’t double check to see if you still had condoms, and if they were still good.

“Oh good,” you grab the half used pack and look closely at the date stamped on the bottom, "lucky.” But you make the mistake of looking at yourself in the mirror, and your reflection feels like it's a mile away. Your eyes blur, and the room spins for a moment.

A perfectly timed knock on the door makes you jump, and the box slips from your hand.

“Are you okay? I gotta go, too.”

“Yeah, Minnie, I’m coming,” you pick them up and palm them as you head for the door, “sorry, go ahead.”

Seungmin whistles as he returns and quietly shuts the door, “so are you…out?” He holds up the empty box and shakes it. “You left the drawer open.”

“Oh, no no,” you grab the condoms from your bedside table and show them to him, “we have two.”

He pulls one from your fingers and examines it for a moment, “I don’t think these will fit.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

It’s stupid, and it’s reckless, and you know it. But it’s not going to stop you. From the moment he said the condoms—the only condoms either of you had, wouldn’t work, you tossed it back onto the table, looked up at him, “okay,” and grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants until he was right in your face.

“Okay” He sets his down, too. “Are you…” he groans when you find a good spot on his stomach, and he laughs when you graze your lips across his skin.

Every time you get back to his belly button, you tug a little more. His sweatpants start to tent, and you’re starting to feel exactly how much he wouldn’t fit into those condoms. One more tug, and you can see him—the stiff base of his cock, held still by the grip of your fingers.

He’s so hot against the fabric, and a wet spot of pre-cum starts to come through as you stroke him.

“I’m not surprised you like to tease,” he smiles down at you, but he’s blushing…everywhere. His cheeks, his ears, his neck. When he pulls his shirt over his head, he’s flushed all the way down to where your lips are.

Seungmin is just as lean under all those clothes as you imagined, and his shoulders…

“Turn around”

“Huh…turn?”

You stand and grab his hips, “yeah, turn around for me.”

He listens and peeks back at you the best he can—until your hands move from his hips, slowly upward, touching every bit of skin you can—across his shoulder blades, back down his spine.

The sigh he lets out is so content and relaxed, it actually puts you more at ease. He laughs sweetly when your lips touch him. “I like your teasing.”

Seungmin turns back to face you, and your fingers slide across him as he moves.

“Just admiring you." Yes, you are admiring him. Touching him, finally, is doing more for you than anything else possibly could. But every step forward now is taking all of your energy.

“Admiring? Me?” He cups your cheek and lifts until you’re looking at him, then pulls you close.

It’s sweet and it’s perfect, and you melt into him, but now you’re so distracted by his dick pressing against you. You push your hips in until he groans, slide your hands under his waistband.

Seungmin grabs back, and squeezes your ass. “Let me see you.” He pulls your shirt up and over your head before you can react, but you fold your arms over yourself before pressing back into him.

“Ah…I’m sorry, too fast?” His hands keep you against him. He holds so tight, you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. “I should have let you do that.”

“No, I just—“

“I didn’t think you’d be shy”

A shiver runs through you when his hands move down your back, then back up.

“How about we…” he scoots closer to the lamp, keeping hold of you, and clicks it off. “Is that better?”

“Maybe,” you laugh, but it’s hesitant, a little edgy. “You’re too perfect, Minnie and…ah, I don’t know what's going on, I’m nothing special.”

“No, you're very special. What’s the matter?”

You relax a a little in his arms.

“I’m not perfect, not even close. You haven’t seen me after rolling out of bed at noon, or grumpy when my mouth hurts after getting these things tightened.”

You whine his name. You’re ruining the moment. Him comforting your sudden stupid thoughts and doubts—he’s probably already getting soft. “I’m sorry, I’m making a mess of everything. I'm not sure what happened.”

“Mm, no…you haven’t made a mess of anything.” Seungmin grabs your shirt from the edge of the bed and slips it back on you, “it's okay, we can get back under the covers if you’d like.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

“Give me your hand”

Seungmin holds it up to you, then sets it in yours.

Back under the covers is where you end up, and you really do feel like a tease now. Poor Seungmin—his dick doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, but right now, you know he’s definitely not hard. You've ruined that.

“You think I’m perfect…can I think you’re perfect?” he lets go of your hand and runs his up your arm.

“No, I’m a mess. My skin, my hair is a mess. I’m getting chubby because I never watch what I eat. I don’t know why you’re here.”

“Because I want to be here. Because you brought me here and made me feel like I was yours."

“I was so high off of your words before. I thought I was dreaming when we were talking after dance practice.”

Seungmin moves closer, and now you’re sharing a pillow, and you breathe in every sigh he breathes out. His hand is moving so slowly over you, and he’s being so patient as it finds the curve of your hip and slides under the bottom of your shirt. “You’re not a mess.” He’s touching you and kneading his fingers into your side. Into your back. He works his way up and drags his fingertips up to your throat. “And they weren’t just words.”

How could you possibly deny him, looking at you like this? You shouldn’t, but your brain is telling you it will never work; it’s a waste of time. He’s going to really see you, and change his mind—he’ll find out how bad you are at this, and how emotional and unbearable you get when you do. It’s too much for him.

Still, his touch is as soft as his eyes, and he moves even closer until his leg can slide over yours.

“No, I don’t deserve you”

He isn’t sure how to reply to that, so he just stares. Maybe he’s waiting for you to crack a smile, or laugh it off, but you don’t. “Why would you say that?”

“You can do so much better than me, I promise.” You get as far as sitting yourself up, and your head pounds against your eyes. The alcohol is catching up to you and turning into a hangover already. “I shouldn’t have let it get this far, I’ve been stupid.”

“What are you saying?” Seungmin grabs your arm as you shift to get out of bed. His head is pounding now, too, because he's trying to figure out what went wrong and where he fucked up. “I can go if that’s really what you want, but give me a minute.”

You struggle with a response. You don’t want him to leave, but he should. And if he does, it might be the end of something that didn’t even begin. “A minute…for what?”

“To say something”

“Right, I’m sorry”

“I meant everything I said before, even if I didn’t say much. But you knew what I was thinking.” He lets go of your arm, because you seem to have relaxed. You’ve settled back in your spot, under the covers, back against the pillows. “I want you, and you want me…I think. And I need you around, I know that much. If I leave, will we go back to how we were before?”

There’s a long silence. You’re not sure if he wants an answer to that, but you don’t want to think too hard about it. Maybe, eventually, the memory of this can pass and you can be friends again.

“I don't want to go back to that. Not after this,” he answers himself. “So…”

Seungmin throws the covers off of himself, puts his feet on the cold floor, and then waits a few seconds before standing. It takes a moment to find his shirt, but he does and throws it on, and the entire time you watch him so intensely. But you stay quiet.

He knows you’re watching, and he takes his time, hoping you’ll stop him as he goes for the door. But you don’t.

And he anxiously waits for his phone to buzz after he grabs it from the coffee table. The empty bottles and glasses—the mess from the food scattered everywhere—Seungmin stares at it, waiting for a text that won’t come, and he decides he won’t leave yet. Instead he starts to clean.

─ ⋅⋅ ─

You’re stuck in your spot on the bed, phone now in hand, and you stare at the messages you’ve shared over the last week—to prove yourself wrong, maybe. Or just to make yourself feel worse. You couldn’t possibly feel any worse right now, though. Seungmin is still here; his scent lingers, and the feeling of his touch. But he left. You kicked him out, and deep down, you know you don’t want to subject him to whatever the future might hold. This isn’t possible, and thinking it could be was both of you just being struck dumb with lust. And maybe love.

You’ll be back tomorrow morning, right? I get my days mixed up sometimes, especially when I’m home for a while. Do you get like that? Maybe my memory is going already, haha I’ll be around if you’re free, so I hope you are. I can’t wait to see you again.

Seungmin is a good texter. He’s thoughtful and sincere, and he seems to choose his words carefully, as if he’s speaking to you face to face. That, or he just closes his eyes and types everything he feels. That wouldn’t surprise you.

I hope texting you so soon isn’t weird. No, it’s you! It’s not weird, or if it is that makes it normal for us. I hope you feel as good as I do. Good night ♥️

You pull the covers up to your chin and try to get comfortable. But you can’t take your eyes off the string of messages.

I practiced your song today! It might take a little more work to get it to sound good with my vocals. Maybe I need your input. But I’d rather surprise you!

He’s probably been working on it all week, and here you almost forgot about it. Before he sent this text, you didn’t know if he was serious, or it was just his opening line.

The sound of glasses clinking together echoes into the bedroom, and your heart pounds wildly. Then the pounding in your head starts up again, and for some reason you choose now to start crying. The tears start to brim, and you try desperately to keep them from going any further.

The sound of water running gets you out of bed fast, and you walk slowly to the bedroom door. You can see the kitchen light on through the crack, and the shadow of movement is there, too. His backpack is untouched at the end of the couch, and when you walk out to the hallway, you see his shoes next to yours. He’s washing the dishes and cleaning up the mess the two of you made.

“Seungmin”

He jumps and almost drops the glass.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh,” he sighs, “I didn’t want you to have to clean all this up in the morning. I’m sorry, I’m done.” He grabs his backpack and heads for the door. “Get some sleep before the sun comes up.”

One shoe is on, the other is halfway there as he stares at you. “Are you crying?”

You wipe at your cheek and feel what you couldn’t hold back.

Seungmin kicks his shoes off again and hesitates for a moment, but eventually, when you don’t speak, he closes the space between you. “You’re crying,” he takes your cheeks in his hands. “Please…if you won’t talk to me now, please call me tomorrow. Or text, I don’t care. Tell me you still feel the same as you do right now, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Stop it,” you squeeze your eyes shut and feel more tears escape. Seungmin’s warm embrace, his arms holding tight around your shoulders, it makes everything else fall away.

“Stop what?”

“Being so good, and patient, and calm. You should’ve run off by now”

“Why are you so hard on yourself? You think you should be punished for…yes, I remember you saying that…for what? I know you want this.”

All you can manage is a mumble against his chest.

He relaxes his arms and grips your waist, “what did you say?”

“I do”

“Want this? Or think you should be punished?”

More silence from you, but he waits.

“I’ll leave. And I hope I hear from you tomorrow.”

He lets go, and manages to get into his shoes before you say his name. As fed up as he should be hearing his name again, he’s not. Seungmin looks at you with hopeful, tired eyes.

“Yeah?” He watches you closely, tilts his head to the side. You can see his eyes moving up and down over your body, "tell me I can stay.”

Your legs shake and your head swims. The ache behind your eyes is growing worse and worse, but looking at him makes it bearable, somehow. Even now, he’s ready to run to you as soon as you say go. But you can’t figure out why.

Seungmin is still who he is, and you’re who you are, and you don’t really belong together. Someone will find out and put a stop to it. But what if things slowly start to connect; fall into place; work out for a while? Forever? No, that doesn't sound right. Loving him before was easy, because you assumed it would always be one-sided and simple; no worries about making something work, or about working toward something. Now this is real, and it's a little bit scary looking at him and realizing how much you want him, and how big this could get.

"Say something," he sighs, and it sounds nowhere near as irritated as it should.

Your gaze drops to your feet, defeated—it moves toward his, and again, he’s taking off his shoes. Seungmin stands there and faces you.

“Okay...okay."

─ ⋅♡⋅ ─

126 notes · View notes

celestialgyu · 2 years

Text

For Any Price

genre; fantasy au, non idol au, childhood friends to lovers, fluff

pairings; gn!reader x jungwon (enha), yeonjun (txt), yuna (itzy), & kai (txt)

synopsis; The most feared assassins in Ketterdam, you and Jungwon have made a name for yourselves. When your creditor comes knocking on your door demanding you pay off your hulking debt immediately or risk being dragged back to the place you escaped, you and Jungwon have to find a way to get that money, and quick. Luckily, you two weren't called the best Grishas of their generation for nothing.

wc; 9.4k

warnings; death, violence, mentions of alcohol

notes; First and foremost, I want to express how sorry I am to leave this FAP crew. No, like I genuinely adore them. Moving on, this is for cici's (@iyeonjuni) power of love collab!! Go check out her works (and everyone who was a part of this collab)! I would also like to thank jas (@crispy-chan) for beta-reading this!! Your comments made me smile so much. (PSA: This fic is based on the Grishaverse. All references made can be explained on the fandom page and other informational texts about the Grishaverse.)

You’re cleaning your collection of knives when you hear a knock on the door of your flat. Reluctantly putting down the dagger you were polishing, you grab two others, tuck them into your sleeves and get up to open the door. You look into the peephole and are met with the sight of a person you’d hoped you’d never see again. You stiffen, steeling yourself before you open the door.

“Nice place you have here _____,” The Slave Pirate sneered at you. You didn’t know his real name and you doubted many people did. Jungwon loved to joke about how cheesy the name was.

“What are you doing here?” you narrowed your eyes at him. He moved to walk past you but you blocked him with your arm, shoving him back. “Answer the damn question.”

“Someone’s on edge,” he said as he looked you up and down. “I’m here to get my money so stop acting like a scared child and move.”

You glared at him as you stepped aside to let him in. Saints, where is Jungwon, he should be getting back soon. He looked around your living room with his nose upturned. “For someone with a reputation like you two have, I was expecting something luxurious.”

You ignored his comment. “The final payment isn’t due for another two months. You have no business speaking to me till then.”

He smirked at you, “You forget your place. Some things have changed and I need that final half million kruge each now. You have two weeks. Or else… well the Little Palace will be learning the whereabouts and… occupations of two of their Grishas.”

You scoffed, holding his stare with the fiercest glare you could muster. “You’d never do that. They find out about me and Jungwon, they find out about you too.” You told yourself that if he ever let slip to the Palace where you were, you’d do whatever it took to hunt him down and mail his parts to the Little Palace yourself. The thought was almost comforting. A question then popped into your head. “How did you find me?”

“First, like you, I cover my tracks well, so it’d be challenging to find me. And second, I’ve had a person on you two since the day you paid me for new identities.” he sneered as he stood up. “Bet you didn’t expect that one, did you? Pity, your reputation was quite impressive, but I suppose like all things, it’s built on a mixture of lies and truth.”

You fixed him with a steely glare as you moved to hold the door open. “Save it. Get out,” you ordered.

You reached to shut the door but he grabbed it before you could fully close it. “You have two weeks,” he said before turning on his heel and walking into the street.

Disgusting piece of scum, I cannot wait till he gives me a reason to get rid of him. You thought to yourself as you sat down at your desk, your knives glittering enticingly in the window light. You grabbed four of them and walked to the other side of your flat, where a giant piece of cardboard was attached to the wall by four small daggers.

You weaved two of the knives between your fingers, thinking of where to aim them. The cardboard was littered with knife indents and holes, the material used and worn out. Focusing on the air around you, you conjured a vacuum of air from your knife tip to wherever you choose as your target. You fixed your eyes at an empty spot in the bottom right corner and threw them both at the same time, watching as they spun gracefully through the air and landed perfectly next to each other, their ends pointed at you. You moved the vacuum a few feet above them. You threw the other two knives, smiling to yourself as they nailed a perfect landing on the cardboard, their pearl-studded ends the only part visible along with a glint of its steel blade. Throwing knives were almost therapeutic for you, calming your nerves and allowing your mind to hone in on what it did best, take aim.

You were a Squaller, an Etherealki Grisha. You could summon or control air and gaseous matter, from strong winds, pointed currents or removing/adding air from anywhere. Jungwon was a Heartrender, a Coporalki Grisha. He could control human bodies, manipulating any aspect of a body to his will. You stared at where the second dagger hit, recalling your days training as a soldier of the Second Army at the Little Palace. You had been better than most of your classmates, garnering relentless praise from your teachers, and Jungwon was the same. But you left that place (for good reason) and now your home was here, Ketterdam, the city of trade. Stinky, humid, built-on-a-swamp Ketterdam.

You grabbed a few more knives from the table and scattered them across the cardboard, turning back to get some more when you heard something from the door. Knock knock. Knock. Knock knock. Jungwon. You sprinted to the door, throwing it open.

“Jungwon, where the hell have you been? Get in!” you rushed him inside, locking the door before turning on him. “You should have been here thirty minutes ago Won, so you better have a good explanation for where you were.”

He smiled sheepishly as he took off his boots and coat. “I got caught up in something. Sorry _____, it won’t happen again.”

You scoffed, glaring at him. “You made me deal with it on my own,” you said, sitting down at your table and massaging your temples.

You felt his eyes on you as you stayed silent, knowing you had something to say. You took a deep inhale and looked up. “The Slave Pirate was just here.”

Jungwon’s eyes widened as he took in what you said. “What? How? Why?” The fact that The Slave Pirate knew where you two lived made him feel uneasy.

You sighed, staring at the piece of cardboard you loved on the other wall. “He wants the rest of our payments in two weeks.”

“But it’s not due in two months—”

“I know,” you cut him off. “Served along with a threat to expose us to the Palace.”

Jungwon grimaced. He never wanted to go back to that place, not after what happened. “And how’d he find us?” he asked, feeling like you’d know. You always did.

“He has a spy. I think you know who that is,” you said, glancing at him. “Take care of that.”

Jungwon nodded as he watched you get up and grab your coat and knives. “Got it. And where are you headed to?” he said, throwing a lopsided smile at you.

You smiled back softly. “I have something I need to do,” you walked towards the door before turning back, your lips curling upwards. “And Jungwon? Don’t make a mess.” Torture them for information if you had to and make it a clean kill.

Jungwon grinned, “Don’t worry _____, I’ll make them talk.”

You strolled down the streets of Ketterdam, passing the stalls of exotic fruits and fabrics going for the highest prices tourists would pay. You mostly kept to yourself in this city, some of the only people you were somewhat friendly with were the Dregs. Led by Kaz Brekker, or “Dirtyhands” as they called him, was the most feared gang in the Barrels. No job was too morally repulsive for Dirtyhands and you supposed that’s how he and his group of criminals climbed the ranks so quickly.

But you weren’t headed towards the Dregs. You turned on the West Road, passing the gambling dens, motels, and pleasure houses of West Stave until you got to the Tiger Club. It was an eye-catching building with red and yellow accents, two tiger statues flaunting the sides of the entrance. You nodded at the bouncer, a big man named Barty, as you walked inside, immediately being hit with the smell of alcohol and cash. It was a busy night with all the tables filled, but you weren’t here to gamble.

You had left that life a long time ago. On the other hand… it hadn’t been as easy for Jungwon. You sighed internally as you recalled the money he used to waste while gambling.

Spotting your destination, you navigated your way to one of the bigger tables in the back. You found Yeonjun overseeing a card game, standing a few feet away as you watched him taunting and egging on the rich-looking gamblers so they spend as much cash as possible. Choi Yeonjun, one-half of the Choi Twins. He and Yuna, his twin sister, owned this club. They were skilled sharpshooters with an apparent taste for business. When you first arrived in Ketterdam, you and Jungwon had done many favors for them and maintained a good relationship since. You could always go to them for help.

After watching Yeonjun work the table a little longer, you walked over to him. “Hey Yeonjun,” you said, nodding at him.

He spun around, his gelled-back hair not moving an inch. “Darling! I haven’t seen you in a long while,” he exclaimed, grabbing you by the shoulders and directing you to an empty chair at the bar. “You wait here while I finish this up… Hey! You there,” he pointed at a barista and then at you. “Anything they want.”

He winked at you before turning back to his customers. You rolled your eyes. Yeonjun was like this to most people and you being younger than him didn’t help things. You didn’t dislike it though, he was a breath of fresh air in a city like this.

You sipped the Bellini you ordered, the alcohol mellowing your senses. Your eyes roamed over the room, watching the gamblers spend their savings on the probably rigged games. You enjoyed trying to figure people out at casinos, reading their moods and body language to guess their next move (and their chances). It was like a game to you, a way for you to relax and let your mind wander and come up with different scenarios that explained how they wound up in here.

A big-bellied man at a nearby table was sweating heavily, eyes nervously darting from the dealer’s hands to a large number of chips in front of him. You guessed he had just gambled too much and was about to pay for it. You chuckled to yourself, moving on to a woman dressed in rubies and gold two tables away from him. She looked Zemeni, with dark skin and a tall, slender build. She smiled confidently as she looked at her fellow players, fingers tapping the side of the table as she waited for the play of cards. You sipped your drink again, raising an eyebrow as two burly men sat next to you, whispering to each other. Bored and drunk, you slightly leaned over to catch what they were saying.

“I can’t believe boss turned down that offer. 3 million kruge!” one said, waving his hands dramatically.

“For what the merchant asked of us, 3 million is a low price… And he refused to up the money so his loss,” the other replied, shrugging. “What was the merchant’s name again?”

“Dedrick, I think.”

You leaned back into your chair, having heard enough. 3 million kruge… for what kinda job? What was worth that much? You thought to yourself, tapping your fingers on the counter.

“Darling!” Yeonjun said, sitting down on your other side. “How’s the drink?” he said, waving towards your glass.

“Delicious,” you smiled, leaning in towards Yeonjun. He raised an eyebrow before mirroring you. “Hey, who are those men over there?” you whispered, nodding your head towards them.

“Hmm,” Yeonjun replied, taking them in. “Look like gangsters… My guess is Razorgulls,” he said, waving at their bodies. “The build. But… want to find out?”

He flashed a dazzling smile your way before taking out a revolver and sending a bullet towards the wall at the other end of the bar counter. You had barely registered what happened before he was slipping off his chair and rounding the room to examine the dent it made. He rocked on his heels for a few seconds before turning towards the room, looking over the people. He slowly turned towards the two men next to you, walking over to them.

“Men, was this you?” he asked. They didn’t respond, sharing a nervous look as a lazy grin spread across Yeonjun’s face. Then Yeonjun’s expression was stone-cold and menacing, two shiny revolvers pointed at the men’s heads. What a showoff. But it was amusing and slightly frightening to see the Yeonjun most people knew, a sly, quick, deadly man with a talent for inserting bullets where he wanted them. A bit foxy, if you did say so yourself.

“Tattoo,” he ordered, hand unwavering.

The men couldn’t have rolled up their sleeves fast enough and you stretched your neck to look at their arms. Five birds in a wedge formation. Razorgulls. You turned back to your drink, rolling over this new information in your mind. So why would the Razorgulls turn down that offer… They weren’t exactly the brightest and most decisive gang in the Barrels.

You heard a sound next to you, looking up to see Yeonjun sitting back down in his chair. “That was quick.” He winked at you, though it wasn’t really a wink and more of a delayed blink. You learned early on that one way to know if Yeonjun was distracted was if his winks… weren’t exactly winking.

“So… what about them?” Yeonjun asked, leaning back and looking over the tables. “You got into a quarrel with their gang or something?”

You grinned at him, remembering the time you and Jungwon helped Yeonjun and Yuna drive off a group of aggressive Razorgulls a couple years ago. “Actually… I overheard something.” From the corner of your eye, you noticed the two men get up and leave.

He looked back at you, cocking his head to the side. “Oh really?”

You leaned in again and he did the same, lowering your voice. “Apparently, the Razorgulls were offered a job from a rich merchant, Dedrick, for—” you paused for dramatic value. “ —3 million kruge.”

Yeonjun raised his eyebrows, letting out a low whistle. “I’ve heard that name. I wonder what the job was… or how difficult it was that they would turn it down.”

“Well, I plan to find out,” you said, pushing your empty glass towards the barista. “I need that money.”

“Oh really?” Yeonjun replied, staring at you. “What for?”

“I have debts I need to pay. And soon.” “So do I.”

You grinned at him, gathering your things. “I’ll be back soon. Also, where’s Yuna?” you asked.

“In the back. I’ll tell her you came. And about this new information,” he grinned at you, leaning against the table. “And the bill is on the house.”

You smiled at him, nodding. “Till next time, Yeonjun.”

“Watch your back!” he called after you as you navigated your way to the entrance.

“Before your front!” you replied, as you stepped out into the cold, humid Ketterdam night.

Jungwon groaned as he held his forehead, trying to keep from stumbling in the dirty alley. He had gotten caught up at a casino, going in with a promise to himself and you that he would only spend a maximum of 50 kruge and leaving with a loss of triple that. He winced as he imagined what you’d say if you knew about this.

“Jungwon?” He heard someone say, drunkenly turning his head towards where it came from.

“Fucking Saints, Jungwon, why are you this wasted?” You. He felt you grab his forearm, steadying him.

He let out a giggle, sidling up to you. He heard you give a defeated sigh before he felt you stiffen next to him.

“Jungwon, who the hell is that?” you asked. He followed the direction of your stare to his friend from the casino, Kai. He hadn’t been aware Kai had been following him this whole time. Kai was smiling up at your face, eyes glassy.

“Oh that’s—” he weakly waved toward Kai. “A friend from the… bar I was just at.” His words slurred as he tapped his chin, suddenly remembering something important. “He’s also a Grisha!”

He giggled at your alarmed face, waving his hand again dismissively. “It’s okay, _____. No one can hear us.” It was true, he could hear no heartbeats except for yours’ three. Perks of being a Heartrender.

He giggled for a third time when you shot him a pointed glare. Everything was funny right now. “Okay…” you said, straightening him up again. “Let’s go home. And you, Kai, get home too.”

“Wait, wait, _____, can he please come with us? I promised him he could stay with us for a night.” He distinctly remembered making that promise, struggling to recall it as his head swam.

“You know what, whatever. Just start walking.” Your voice felt like it was fading away.

And then the world went black.

Jungwon moaned as he came to, his head feeling like it would split apart down the middle. It was morning, the sunlight filtering in through the window bouncing off the glass of water and pancakes (already drenched in syrup with a big block of butter, just how he liked it, he noted) on the table in front of him. He could hear you opening and closing drawers in the kitchen as he slowly sat up. Across from him was Kai, the boy from last night. He looked a lot better now, wavy blonde hair framing his face as he snoozed peacefully on the couch.

He had met Kai at the casino, the two pairing up at one of the tables. He had responded with glee when Kai showed him his metal-laced playing cards, allowing him to know exactly what cards someone held. He later learned that Kai was a Fabrikator and had grown up on a farm in Kerch. When his parents learned of his abilities, they had hidden him from sight till he turned eleven, when the Grisha testers came to take any Grisha children to the palace. Jungwon had lamented on that part of Kai’s life, wondering how different his own life would have been if he was never tested and taken to the Little Palace. Later in the night, Kai confessed he was currently homeless and Jungwon, with his big heart and fondness for Kai, had agreed to give him a place to sleep, at least for a little while.

And that’s why he was currently wondering what would be the first things you’d say to him, watching you set down a plate and glass of water for Kai as he munched on his breakfast. You could be frightening when you were angry and while watching that anger directed at others was entertaining for Jungwon, he would rather it was never pointing at him.

You turned to look at him. “Wake him up and then follow me,” you ordered before walking away to your bedroom.

Jungwon gulps down the last of his food and walks over to Kai, shaking him roughly. “C'mon, Kai. Wake up,” he said as Kai stirred. He gave him another good shake before Kai let out a huge yawn and sat up.

He said nothing as he squinted around the room, taking in the place. “It’s nicer than I expected.” He stretched his sore arms, eyes lighting up as he spotted the breakfast on the coffee table in front of him. “Oh! Tell _____ thank you so much for me,” he said as he picked up the fork and knife, digging into the food.

Jungwon shook his head, smiling as he watched Kai scarf down the pancakes, letting out little sounds of contentedness. “I’ll be back,” he called as he headed towards your bedroom.

You were sitting on your bed, flipping through a stack of papers. You didn’t look up as he closed the door behind him but stopped sifting through the papers, waiting.

He nervously fiddled with the ring on his left index finger. “So…” he trailed off, stretching out the syllable. . “That’s Kai, someone I made friends with last night. He’s currently homeless so… I thought he could stay here for a while. And you already know he’s a Grisha.”

“What kind?” you responded, still looking at the papers. But your posture slightly relaxed, and he gave an silent sigh of relief.

“Fabrikator.”

“Hm. I figured. After you passed out, I dragged you home and he followed behind me. But he was very silent. His steps made no sound. I guessed his shoes were Fabrikator-made.”

“Well, you were right! He probably made them himself,” Jungwon exclaimed.

You got up then, placing the papers down at your desk. “Anyways, while you were bar-hopping,” you shot him a pointed look, “I paid a visit to Yeonjun.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “So did you drink or gamble?”

You turned to him, raising your own eyebrow. Jungwon swore he saw you push down a smile. “You’re ridiculous, you know that.” You rolled your eyes as he gave a playful shrug. “I… I have a plan. To get the money in time. Or half of a plan.”

“Wait, what?” Jungwon blinked. “What kind of plan? …Is Yeonjun involved?”

“Yes, somewhat. I’m still working out the finer details,” you said as you pulled on a leather jacket and newsboy cap. “I’ll be back. There are some chores to do and lunch so don’t forget about that. And keep an eye on Kai.”

Jungwon nodded, watching as you walked towards the door.

You looked back at him, your hand on the doorknob. “I’ll fill you in when I get back, kay?”

He nodded again as you closed the door behind you and listened as your heartbeat got fainter and fainter, till he couldn’t hear it anymore.

You hauled the two overflowing bags of supplies through the door, sighing when you dropped them in the hallway.

Jungwon was nowhere to be seen but Kai was sitting on your couch, turning a radio over in his hands.

“That’s broken, by the way,” you said, gesturing towards the radio.

“Not anymore,” he smiled at you. “Fixed it.” He tossed it at you and you caught it, switching it on. You raised your eyebrows, impressed, as a channel started playing, some Kerch talk show.

“Oh,” you said, “Thanks.” You hadn’t known Kai long enough to form a solid opinion of him, but so far… he wasn’t that bad. He had this energy about him, a lightness, that made him seem harmless. He had an oval face with a tall, sharp nose, and dark brown doe eyes. Wavy, blonde hair framed his head, bangs brushing over his eyebrows. Honestly, he was kinda cute. Focus, you told yourself as you shook your head. But another thought fought its way into your mind. Not as cute as Jungwon, though. You didn’t even want to imagine what Jungwon would say if you called him cute. Probably remind you of it. Every. Single. Minute.

You threw your jacket on the couch, unpacking the bags. Two yards of thick rope, a sewing kit (you wanted to add some knife pockets on each side of your knees), blade polish you had picked up, and other things to restock your supplies. You put them all away, walking towards the kitchen when Jungwon appeared with a tray of food in one hand and one with drinks in the other, shooing you towards the living room.

You both sit down, Jungwon taking a seat next to Kai. “Ooh, you went all out didn’t you Jungwon? You rarely do this for me,” you exclaimed, grinning as he blushed a bright pink.

“Yes I do, we just don’t usually have much time for lunch,” he mumbled, looking away. He placed the tray on the table before taking a seat, handing you each a plate.

You all ate in silence for some time before you pushed your plate away and looked at the men in front of you. “Before I go into detail about what we’re going to do, Kai, let this be your only warning that if you betray us: I will not hesitate to kill you.” To Kai’s credit, there was no fear on his face.

You let that sink in for a few seconds before telling them about everything that happened yesterday and today. Meeting Yeonjun, the Razorgulls, the turned-down offer from Dedrick, going to see Yuna today and making a plan with her, and where you all would meet the twins to head over to Dredrick’s house.

Jungwon fell silent, brows furrowed. “You know… I knew you were cooking up something,” he paused, sighing, “But this is risky.”

You shrugged. “We’ve done much riskier. Like the Exchange raid. And we need the money.” A year ago, you and Jungwon stole sixty thousand kruge from the safes under the Exchange. You chuckled softly to yourself at the memory.

“I could help, I have a few things I’ve been working on,” Kai said, leaning forward.

Jungwon slowly nodded. “Fine,” he said, looking at you and then Kai, his from morphing into a determined smile.

“Let’s do this.”

Three hours later, you were hunched on a roof near the merchant’s house in a black cloak, watching the windows for any sign of the man. There was a light on in what you assumed was the master bedroom, moving a few feet to the left to get a better view. The man you saw through the window matched Yuna’s description of Merch Dedrick; tall, burly, and with a brown mustache. You pulled out your small square mirror, flashing it twice. You got three flashes back. Good. You had planned that whoever first spotted Dedrick would signal to the others. You had left Kai at home with instructions to put together his best and a variety of bombs. He had accepted the job with an almost gleeful face. You felt someone crouch down next to you.

“It looks like he’s not alone. There’s a woman in there with him,” Jungwon said.

Yuna arrived at your vantage spot next, leaping nimbly from roof to roof like a cat. “That’s not his wife,” she said, grinning. “It seems the Merch has a mistress. Saint’s, imagine what would happen if his wife knew.”

You tilted your head. This was interesting. “Who’s his wife?”

“A well-known lady from one of the richest families in Kerch. She practically bathes in money. Dedrick? Not so much. It’s only because of his wife that he’s a rich merchant now.”

“And I’m guessing neither she nor her family would enjoy the news of the merchant cheating on her.”

“Not at all,” Yuna replied.

You turned back to the house. “Well,” you said, “That certainly changes things. Jungwon, tell Yeonjun to drop in from the window in the hallway and block the doorway. Go with him. Your powers will make it easier and quieter. Yuna, you’re with me. We’re going to need some time for our lovely talk with Dedrick.”

Jungwon nodded and got up to join Yeonjun. You looked at Yuna. “Like old times?”

“Whip up a windstorm, _____,” she replied, flashing you a toothy grin.

You nodded, chuckling. “Let’s do this.”

Yuna moved to the edge of the roof, bending her knees as she measured the distance of the jump into the merchant’s open window. You stood a few feet behind her, focusing your mind on the air around you, the direction of the wind, and the small breeze that ran over your fingers. Air was like a wave, sometimes moving so slowly you couldn’t feel it, and sometimes becoming a harsh crashing force, threatening to throw you off your feet. You sent a small current Yuna’s way, flicking your index finger down as you directed it towards the window. A few seconds later, Yuna gave a nod, and you began counting down. “3, …2, …1!” you said, sending a strong gust of wind at Yuna after the last number. She leaped, stretching herself out like a diver.

And flew like a bird into the window, rolling as she landed.

You chuckled to yourself at the shriek of a man, probably the merchant, before taking a running leap into the house after her.

Jungwon ducked as a club went swinging towards his head. He squeezed his hand, cutting off the guard’s air with his powers. The man clawed at his throat as if he could open a passageway for air, then crumpled to the floor. Across from him, Yeonjun brought down the butt of his revolver on another guard's head, knocking him out. Jungwon arched his hands out, feeling out the heartbeats of the six guards they took out. It felt like a steady drum, underlined by a lively thrumming of life. He grasped onto the six strings of life tangled up in front of him, and pulled, lowering the heart rate of the guards. That should keep them out for a while.

He heard a yell from the bedroom. You and Yuna must have gotten inside. He didn’t doubt that you could do the job (and do it well) but that didn't keep him from being worried. Friends worry about their friends, right? He shook his head, pushing down the question to the back of his mind. He had a job to do. Yeonjun and he took their positions at either side of the double doors, adorned with golden swirls and intricate patterns. A screaming hawk perched on a branch was carved into the middle, the family symbol of the merchant’s wife. Imagine having all that at your fingers and throwing it away for lust and novelty.

He felt eyes on him and glanced to the side to find Yeonjun staring at him. Yeonjun gave him a small smile. “Long time no see, Jungwon.”

“Do we only talk to each other on jobs?” Jungwon replied, returning the smile. Yeonjun wasn’t a bad person but… you got along better with Yeonjun than him. He guessed charming and suave plus charming and suave was too much for the universe to handle.

Yeonjun chuckled. “It seems to be so.” He tilted his head at Jungwon. “I’ve been wanting to ask, did you ever give _____ that gift?”

Jungwon blushed a deep crimson at the mention of that. A few weeks ago, while on a job with Yeonjun, Jungwon had come across a Ravkan trader selling draggers. And not just the normal kind, these were bejeweled Ravkan nobility fighting knives, crafted with painstaking attention to detail by a Fabrikator. Yeonjun had confirmed it when he examined the dagger. Jungwon had immediately bought it for you, not caring that his money pouch felt painfully empty. But you weren’t there when he got home and those hours of silence were enough for Jungwon to overthink how you’d react to the gift, eventually putting it away to be gifted at a time where he wouldn’t be so anxious over it. Thus, you never got your beautiful dagger.

He felt a tap on his bicep, pulling him away from the memory. Yeonjun gave him a knowing look. “When are you going to do something about it?”

He looked down at his shoes, fairly embarrassed. Was he that obvious? He liked to think he hid it well. He didn’t even know when he developed feelings for you, when it went from something platonic to something more. The next thing he knew, all he could think about was you, and it drove him crazy to not be able to figure it out. You were caring and kind to him, sure, but you were also like that to Yuna. And he didn’t think he would survive it if he revealed his feelings and you didn’t feel the same way. He really didn’t.

“Well, I just… not sure about what _____ thinks of me. Or considers me,” Jungwon mumbled.

“They might not show it, but Saints, is it annoying to hear the way _____ constantly talks about you. All praise and mushy stuff,” Yeonjun chuckled. “My point is, they care deeply about you and I think you shouldn’t rule out the possibility just yet.”

Jungwon sighed, throwing his head back. The thought of you praising him to Yeonjun or someone else sent his blood rushing to his face. He’d work up the courage to tell you how he felt… someday.

And as he heard a yelp come from inside the room, this one at a higher pitch, he knew the day was not today.

Yuna was walking over to the other side of the room, near the doorway, hood pulled low. The merchant was gaping at you and his woman… you saw her jump under the covers of the bed. He sputtered, spit flying out and his face red. “Get the hell out of my house! You lowlife thieves!” he exclaimed, enraged.

You tilted your head at him, flipping a dagger in your right hand. “Calm down. We were sent by the Boss.”

“The Razorgulls boss? Well, tell him that he already refused the job and to get fucking lost!”

“Mm, sorry, no can do. He wants to renegotiate the offer,” you replied cooly. You didn’t know much about the Razorgulls boss actually, probably cause he never shows his face and instead sends his lackeys.

The merchant—Dedrick—swallowed, throat bobbing. Once, twice, three times. “What I offered was plenty enough.”

“Three million kruge? For a job like that? Don’t kid me.” You kept the details vague, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

And he did. “How hard could stealing the artifact from a museum be?” Bingo. So the job was an artifact.

“What kind of value does the artifact have to you?”

He swallowed thickly. “A lot.” You guessed so, or else he wouldn’t be emptying his pockets for it.

“The Boss decided to take back the offer. For an additional two million kruge,” you said, keeping your voice firm and steady.

“Two million… five million kruge?! Absolutely not,” he glowered, huffing out his chest.

You shrugged. “The job is not an easy one. Five is quite reasonable. Or perhaps we instead could… I do enjoy a good drama,” you mumble sweetly, a menacing glint in your eyes.

He glared at you, furious. “My personal life is none of the Razorgull’s business.”

“Perhaps, but you look like you need a little nudge in the right direction.” You tilted your head, holding his gaze as you slid a dagger into your palm. “Either your wife finds out about your infidelity or… five million kruge.”

His eyes darted back and forth between you and his mistress cowering behind the desk. “Five million for your silence.”

You grinned at him. “Five million for my silence.”

You memorized the papers that the merchant gave you before you left his house. The blueprint of the Global Museum including its underground safes and the realistic rendition of the artifact you would steal. After having a pleasant chat with Merch Dedrick, you met up with the rest of the crew and updated Yeonjun and Jungwon on what you and Yuna learned. Jungwon was oddly flustered on the way back home but you didn’t pay it much mind past asking him if it was an allergic reaction. He then got even redder and went fully crimson when you called him cute for his reaction. You shook your head, smiling at the picture. Jungwon could be adorable sometimes.

Jungwon slid through the door, plopping down on your bed. “Done lasering them into your brain?”

“Oh zip it, you should also be memorizing this,” you replied, rolling your eyes at him from your desk.

He popped a piece of pie into his mouth. “Already did, I was waiting for you to look up from that so we could discuss a plan.”

What’s gotten into him today? You thought. Snarkier than usual. You shelved the papers away, getting up to stretch. “This is not going to be an easy job.”

“Obviously, or else Dedrick wouldn’t be offering so much,” he replied, standing up after you. “Also, Kai has something to show you. This way, milady.” He flourished his hands towards the doorway, grinning at you.

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, sending a gust of air his way as you walked past him to the living room.

Kai looked up when you entered, a wild smile alight on his face. “For you and Jungwon,” he said, reaching behind himself to grab a box. He handed it to you. “Open it.”

You raised your eyebrows in curiosity, lifting the lid off the box. Inside sat two pairs of arm and leg sleeves, made of smooth dark brown leather. They had lines of small, almost undetectable stitches. You ran your finger across one. Was that… a knife inside? You looked up at Kai, surprised and a little delighted. “What are these?”

Kai grinned at you, standing up a little straighter. “My newest creation. They’re sleeves with thin but relatively long daggers hidden inside the fabric. You release them by pressing down on the button at the bottom of each dagger—except for the wrist ones—you release those by flicking your wrist. They go back in by pressing the button, which you can also use to get them out if you can’t do the flick. The leather is reinforced and impenetrable, and the daggers have been enhanced to stay sharp.”

You looked between him and the box. Once. Twice. And then you gave him the biggest smile you could and rushed forward to hug him. “Thank you, Kai,” you said, and you really meant it. You never liked spending on yourself—mostly from your years being dirt-poor—but this was such a thoughtful gift and so useful. You wanted to dance imagining how handy it would be.

Kai blushed, hugging you back. “It’s the least I could do for giving me a place to stay. I should be saying thank you to you two.” You pulled back from him, instantly feeling a wave of embarrassment for being so over the moon over a practical gift.

“I appreciate it,” you told him, and he nodded. He glanced at Jungwon, weirdly looking away quickly from him. But when you turned to Jungwon, he looked as pleasant as always. Odd.

You walked back to your room, Jungwon hot on your heels. “Can I get a peek at the gifts now? Unless you’ve forgotten it’s not all yours,” he teased, reaching over your shoulder for the box.

“Okay, wait wait.” You set the box down, grabbing the pair with your name on it. It slid on easily, molding around your arms and legs like a second skin. You tried out the wrist knives, flicking your wrist two times before a dagger popped out with a soft zhink. Okay, so it’s more of a curve. You thought, putting it back in and out again. Jungwon was testing his own sleeves, pressing the buttons on his legs. He looked up at you and gave you a smile. “Would I be superstitious to say this feels like an omen from the Saints that we’ll do well? But imagine the Saints blessing a bunch of assassins. How scandalous.”

You smiled back at him. “Scandalous indeed.”

Days later, after creating a plan with the twins, trips to the Exchange to gain a feel of the place, and endless scheming and worrying, you were standing in front of the Exchange. You wore a fluffy, pale pink fur coat that grazed your calves with a wide-brimmed cream hat. You had bright red lipstick on and were sporting bejeweled sunglasses, with rings stacked on your fingers. You fanned yourself in the humid, hot Kerch summer, looking at every part as the rich, classy tourist woman. You squared your shoulders and strutted into the wide glass doors of the Exchange, purse swinging at your arm. You gave yourself a few seconds to act like you were thinking of where to go and walked over to a clerk who looked like he might pee his pants helping customers.

“Young man, is Alfred here?” you drawled, watching as the clerk took you in and gulped visibly. You waited a few more seconds before repeating yourself. “Young man, I asked if Alfred Krum was here,” you snapped, letting the annoyance clearly show through your voice.

“I- Yes ma’am! He’s h-here.” He stood up, wringing his hands with sheer nerves. “L-Let me take you to him.”

You nodded, checking your watch. “I am a very busy woman. Do not waste my time. I need to see Alfred immediately. An empire relies on your efficiency.”

He paused, looking you up and down. “What’s your name, ma’am?”

“Christine Welverd Krum.” The effect was immediate as he gulped again and stared at his desk nervously. “Right this way, ma’am.”

He led you to the elevator. He murmured something to the guards flanking the elevator, and they gave you a long look before nodding at the clerk. The elevator doors opened and you stepped inside. The clerk clicked a button and stood in front of you, shifting on his feet. The doors opened and you walked into one of the grandest hallways you had ever been in. The Executive Hall of the Exchange. Even the Little Palace was never this grand. The walls were made of smooth marble, with veins of gold, emerald, ruby, and sapphire running on their surface. Four white doors lined the hall on both sides and at the end stood a door with a gold knocker. A wolf’s head. Fitting, you thought. You and Jungwon had described the people who ran this place as rabid carnivores many times.

You heard someone step behind you and turned around to ask the clerk why he was dilly-dallying around. But then something big and heavy hit the side of your head and the world went black.

You woke up as he was tying you to a chair, being careful not to move and keeping your breathing even. You were stripped down of your designer clothes and accessories and left with the suit you had on underneath. At least you still had the sleeves on. He had brought you to a small square room, dark and gray with the door facing you. You furiously thought through all of your options, clocking your captor—the clerk—rummaging in a desk on the left wall for something. You were somewhat impressed, honestly, he had played you well. Acting the nervous inexperienced youngster so you would let your guard down. But that was enough admiration for now.

You flicked your wrist, feeling the daggers slide out. Let’s make this quick. You swiftly sliced through the ropes, throwing your chair back with force as you used your power to suck the air out of the clerk’s airways, waiting until he dropped unconscious. You tied him up with rope sitting on the desk and took the duct tape from his hand (that he planned on using on you), taping his mouth shut. Good, that should keep him occupied for a while. You dragged him to the back of the room, stretching as you walked over to the door to examine it. It was a slab of steel with a lock and handle. You spotted white paint on the side of the door, like it was painted from the outside and splashed onto the other side. So you were in one of the white rooms in the Executive Hall. Nice, that made things simpler. You looked at the clock above the desk. Four thirty in the afternoon. Shit, you needed to be quick.

You bent down to examine the lock. A Belton lock, more complicated than a standard lock but still easy to pick. You sent a tendril of condensed, thick air, feeling out the pins. You applied pressure to the pins and plug of the luck, mapping out the air. Nothing yet. You adjusted the pressure, lifting the condensed air from the nearest pin and then lowering it back… continuing through the lock to see if you missed any inner pins. Wait, there, a missed pin. You pressed one of the buttons on your leg sleeve, releasing a thin dagger. You turned the lock. Click. You checked the clock again. A minute and thirty seconds. You smirked to yourself.

You focused, feeling the air outside for movement or form. Just the furniture. You opened the door, sliding out and locking it behind you. According to your intel, Alfred Krum, the Exchange head, was at a dinner with some foreign benefactors right now. At four thirty-five, Jungwon and Yuna would meet you in Krum’s office (they would come in through the vents and your disguise as Krum’s niece would quell any questions or interruptions) where you would get into his safe and retrieve the artifact. You would then use your powers to propel all five of you onto the roof, where a helicopter (and Yeonjun, who was the pilot and lookout) was waiting for you (courtesy of an acquaintance who owed you a debt).

You briskly walked to the door and scanned it for cracks and slits. The bottom was sealed but the hinges had a connecting space. You felt around the room, registering the form of two people. Jungwon and Yuna. You sent a breeze into their faces, as you had planned before. The knob turned and then the door, bringing you face-to-face with a frustrated Jungwon.

“You’re late. What happened?” Jungwon asked, moving aside so you could make your way to the back of the office.

“Why do you think something happened?” you replied, lifting the huge full-body portrait of Krum from its place. The safe door glinted invitingly at you. “For someone as rich as him, he’s pretty lax with his security. Businessmen.” Thought their money and name were protection enough.

Jungwon stood in front of you, forcing himself into your view. “Because you’re never late. And you dropped the look.” He gave you a vertical scan to prove his point.

You shrugged. “There was a setback. It’s handled. Or would be if you would move.” That sounded harsh. Stress made you snappy. You pressed your lips together. “Please just let me work,” you said, softening your tone.

His eyebrows furrowed but he stepped back, going to join Yuna on watch. This was a Quad lock, a type that needed the four identical keys to be turned two at a time, but not with longer than a five-second gap, or else you would have to start over. You worked swiftly, forming the key shape with your air, pressing your eyes shut as you pictured the pins in your head. Two clicks as the first locks turned. You quickly worked the other two.

The safe door whirred. And swung open.

You pumped a fist into the air. “I’m in.” you breathed to no one in particular.

The dark room seemed to welcome you.

Jungwon smiled to himself as he watched your excitement at unlocking the safe. You were so cute sometimes. Now was the third phase of the plan, where you and he would secure the artifact and get out with minimal obstacles. He trailed you into the safe, the bright lights flicking on when you stepped into the room, illuminating the various collectibles, souvenirs, and artifacts. The item they were stealing was a hand-sized bone from an animal he couldn't remember.

You spotted it before he did, making a beeline to the right corner of the room. You pulled out a small pen-like gadget from your sleeve, clicking a button that turned on a laser, which you aimed at the glass enclosing the artifact. You seared a perfect circle into the glass, wrapping the artifact in a cloth and throwing it into your bag. He noted to ask for a similar tool from Kai.

You looked at him, eyes sparkling. “Let’s wrap this up.”

He grinned at you. “Let’s.”

You both dashed to the safe door, securing it behind you and putting the painting back in its place. He sped-walked to the window, easing it open. So far, except for whatever it was that you faced, the mission was going smoothly. That just made him more nervous. Jungwon sent a quick prayer for success to the Saints, hoping they’d heed the call from a Grisha in need.

Yuna came over to you two, giving you both a determined look. “Okay, _____, let’s jump this ship.”

He glanced at you to catch you giving Yuna a weak smile, which you stifled when you noticed his attention shift to you. He moved to stand right in front of you, looking you in the eyes. “You got this. You’re the strongest, smartest, most capable person I know. You can do this.”

You stared back at him, the anxiety clear in your eyes. “I just… If I fail, we’ll all die.”

“Then don’t fail,” he replied, grinning at you. “Find an anchor in your mind. Ground yourself. Take it one step at a time.”

You nodded, glancing at the window. “I’ll do that.”

“Good. Now if it motivates you, I have been gambling lately and lying to you about it. So you can’t kill me now, it’s too early.”

You whipped your face towards his, glaring at him. “I’ll make sure your death is to your standards.”

“Appreciated. I can’t die like a nobody,” he winked at you, ushering you towards the window. He’d planned on fixing his gambling addiction (or so he tells himself every time he loses) but if the promise of murdering him worked… he’ll take it. Even if it wounded his soul to see you look at him like that.

“Okay, then-” you were cut off by the sound of shouting outside the office, followed by banging on the door.

“We know you’re in there, thieves. Come out.”

And then he heard the click of a lock turning and the door swung open.

Shit.

The clerk barged in, followed by Alfred Krum and a team of security men.

“You’re more capable than I thought,” the clerk sneered, glancing at Jungwon and Yuna who were flanking you. “And these are your cronies? How cute, the three musketeers.”

You snarled at him, flexing your fingers. “It seems I made a mistake by not killing you last time.”

He didn’t get a chance to respond as you lunged at him, giving him two deep cuts on his thigh. And then the fight began. The man was better than you thought, avoiding a third swipe at his throat. He threw a punch at your face and you nimbly dodged it, bringing your hand up to cut into his shoulder. Blood gushed from the cut and he stumbled back, clutching the wound in agony. You took the pause to scan the rest of the room. Jungwon had a pile of unconscious guards around him, currently taking out the eighth. Yuna was shooting down the ones in the hallway, aiming for their hands and legs. You leaped over the guards, moving towards Krum. He was red-faced and waving his hands wildly, shrieking for backup. You slid behind him and held a knife to his throat.

“This is how this is going to go. You are going to go to sleep and forget this ever happened. And if not…,” you sucked the air out of his lungs, watching as he shook with restraint to not thrash and cut his throat with your dagger. You put the air back into his airways and Krum took gulping breaths. “Understood?”

You inched the dagger away from his throat and he furiously nodded. Jungwon met your eyes, done with the guards and you nodded. Jungwon lifted his hand and Krum swayed, before crumpling to the ground.

Yuna holstered her revolvers, running a hand through her hair. “Let’s get out of here.”

You nodded in agreement, pocketing your knives. You ran a hand over the window frame, taking a deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. You turned to face your two friends, people you’ve known for years, and in Jungwon’s case, would trust with your life. You nodded and they returned it. You moved aside so they could crouch on the window, ready to jump. You stood right behind them. What if I fail? You pushed the thought away. After all, you had a Jungwon to maim.

The city clock chimed for five o’ clock, and on the fifth clang, they jumped.

You leaped out after them and sent all three of you soaring upward through the air.

Assassin of the Air and Wind. It had a nice ring to it.

You fell onto the helipad, tucking into a roll. Jungwon rushed up to you, lifting you up and spinning you as he hugged you so hard you knew what your victims felt like. You laughed and patted his shoulder, “Let me down, Won.”

“Fine,” he said, grinning at you. “That was awesome. I knew you had it in you.”

You grinned back. “Well, a certain someone let me know of my next hit. A very important one, he said.”

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry… I really did try to stop.”

“Well now we’re rich, so all debts are lifted.”

He chuckled, leaning in so your face was inches away from his. “Forgiven, then? For the lying?”

You tilted your head to the side, pretending to think it over. “We’ll see.”

He didn’t respond, staring at your eyes. His gaze slowly lowered, landing on your lips.

You glanced at his. They were smooth, salmon pink, and slightly tilted up at the ends. You forced your heartbeat to stop furiously beating, knowing he could hear it clearly.

Oh, for Saint’s sake, just kiss him.

You put a hand on his cheek and pressed his lips onto yours, swooning at how nice and soft they felt. He stiffened, before putting his hand on the nape of your neck and kissing you back. Your movements were slow and languid, yet still electrifying, and you enjoyed how nice it was to kiss Jungwon compared to your past flings. It was intoxicating, setting the nerves in your lips and brain on fire. He pulled back and smiled softly, touching his forehead to yours. You smiled back, still high from the kiss.

You heard a whoop and clapping, turning to see Yeonjun and Yuna smirking at you two.

“Took you long enough,” Yeonjun chimed, and Yuna nodded in agreement.

She hoisted herself into the passenger seat of the helicopter. “Now, if you’re done snogging each other, we have to leave. Now.”

You both scrambled into the back, strapping yourselves in and securing your headsets.

“Lovebirds, no funny business while I’m flying. Especially you, Airbender. I don’t need you to get excited and send us flying off course.” Yeonjun deadpanned into the microphone.

You chuckled to yourself, watching as the helicopter lifted you off of the ground. Jungwon entwined his fingers with yours, tilting his head to the side in playful question.

You laughed and stretched your arms, turning towards him. “Forgiven,” you mouthed to him.

He beamed at you and squeezed your hand. You squeezed back.

EPILOGUE

You flipped through papers, checking off every Grisha still left in Kerch. It was months after your Exchange job, collecting your money and paying off your debts to the Slave Pirate. Kai had taken his share and moved out, opening a gadget shop that attracted youngsters and eccentrics from around the world. The twins’s business was booming, becoming one of the biggest names in Ketterdam.

You and Jungwon had begun a Grisha safety-and-smuggling practice, keeping an eye on all the Grisha in Kerch and helping those who wanted to leave sail undetected to Ravka. You heard the door open and close and got up to meet Jungwon in the living room. He dropped the bags he was carrying next to the kitchen, slumping onto the couch.

“Tired already?” you teased, sitting down next to him. You ran your fingers through his hair and he visibly relaxed, melting onto the couch.

“That was like… seven delivery trips. I’m spent,” he smiled at you, “But worth it.”

You hummed in agreement. “Well… there’s some chocolate ice cream in the back of the ice box.”

The words “chocolate ice cream” seemed to breathe life into him and he jumped up, round eyes sparkling as he stared at you excitedly. “Say no more.”

279 notes · View notes

dwarrowdelf · 8 months

Text

moonlight and starlight (chapter two)

Rating: M | No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Elrond/Gil-galad, Elrond & Gil-galad, Elrond/Celebrían Word count: 1.3k

Read here on AO3, or under the read more break. Kindly pretend that I am not horrifically late on this submission for @silmsmutweek day 4.

Content warnings for scattered mentions of things like Gil-galad’s death and Celebrían’s scars, but they are not the focus of the fic.

Elrond has been in Tirion for far too long for his tastes, settling some dispute between the Sindar and Noldor caused entirely by Oropher being difficult on purpose. The old bastard sees Noldorin politics as stuffy nonsense — which is true, in fairness — and seems to find most of his amusement on these shores in making things difficult for Finarfin, whom he tolerates only because he is Galadriel’s father. Or, more precisely, because he is Celeborn’s father-in-law. Elrond has the distinct political advantage of being inoffensive to nearly everyone, and the distinct disadvantage of being Galadriel’s son-in-law and thus unable to retire peacefully into obscurity in his home in the eastern foothills of the Pelóri.

Celebrían and Gil-galad’s letters are the only things that have kept him sane, except when they decide to include things that make him lose his grip on sanity for entirely different reasons.

I know Celebrían has mentioned to you the silver phallus she commissioned from that particularly adventurous smith in Alqualondë. Well, it finally arrived last week, and since you were not here for her to try it on, she graciously allowed me the first use. It did not compare to the feeling of you inside me, but then, nothing does. Still, I rather enjoyed myself, and I daresay you will enjoy yourself as well when you finally return to us. Please find enclosed Celebrían’s sketch of the experiment to tide you over until then.

Elrond is immensely glad that he waits for the privacy of his own rooms to open these letters. The last page of the letter is, indeed, a sketch of Gil-galad. He is entirely naked, presumably propped up against the headboard of a bed with his head thrown back in pleasure and his legs spread on display. One of his hands is wrapped around his own cock, the other in the process of either pulling out or pushing in a phallic object halfway hidden in his ass.

You are going to be the death of me, Elrond writes back after he’s taken himself in hand and cleaned himself up again. I’ll be home within the month, whether or not Oropher has gotten over himself. Do try to be patient.

No promises, Celebrían writes back by pigeon rather than the less direct courier. You’ve left your poor wife so bereft that she’s resorted to watching her husband’s lover. Hurry back so I can fuck you properly.

Well. Who is Elrond to deny his lady wife a direct request?

——

The silver phallus and its harness are sitting innocuously on the bed when Elrond goes to drop his bags in the main bedroom.

“Darling,” he says, and nothing else.

“Yes?” Celebrían asks innocently, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist. She has to stand on her tiptoes to rest her chin on his shoulder, but she does it anyway, and presses a kiss to his jaw for good measure. “Gil-galad is drawing you a bath. Go wash the road off yourself, I can wait a little longer.”

That sounds like just what he needs. He turns his head to press a kiss to her temple, and then turns fully to kiss her on the lips. “I love you,” he says.

“And I love you,” she returns, and then steps back and swats at him lightly. “Now go on before your water gets cold.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughs, and retreats.

Gil-galad is indeed in the bathroom, wearing an old sleeveless tunic and worn trousers with stubborn grass stains on the knees, a sure sign that he was helping Celebrían in the garden earlier. He grins when he sees Elrond, and again Elrond is struck by how much freer his friend is with his happiness here away from the weight of the crown. Gil-galad meets him and presses their foreheads together for a long moment, and Elrond only realizes that Gil’s fingers are working at the buttons of his overcoat when it starts to slip down his shoulders.

He laughs. “Are you going to bathe me too, or just undress me?”

“That was the plan,” Gil says, moving on to his shirt. Elrond sighs and surrenders himself into his friend’s care.

He groans as he sinks into the perfectly hot water, and groans again when Gil’s hands start to comb out his simple travel braid. For all that Gil-galad is not much of a hugger, nor sometimes much of one for kissing outside of sex, he is still tactile, at least with Elrond. It is with tender hands that he combs and washes Elrond’s hair, and then starts to wash his body. Elrond has done the same for him many times, though at the end it was usually a solemn affair, washing away the stress of war councils or the mud and blood of battle. He hadn’t gotten to wash and prepare his king’s body for burial, much of his hair burnt away and much of his armor melted to his skin. Gil-galad had been entombed there on the plains of Gorgoroth as he was, along with what remained of Aeglos; they were too far from Lindon to bury the High King at home. Elrond doesn’t know what happened to the tomb when Sauron took up residency in Mordor once more. He can only hope the bones and metal were tossed aside rather than desecrated.

“Where have you gone, my friend?” Gil asks gently, always seeming to know when his herald’s mind wanders to places best left to memory.

“Nowhere good,” Elrond murmurs, eyes closed. “Bring me back.”

And he does. Gil-galad’s singing voice is nothing special, though it is pleasant and more than dear to Elrond all the same, and he lets the wordless tune of an old Balar ballad wash over him, feels his lips twitch into a smirking smile when his friend’s steady hands turn wandering and teasing. Soon enough he is moaning, squirming trying to get Gil’s hands where he wants them. Gil-galad just laughs, bites gently at his shoulder as his fingers graze one of Elrond’s nipples.

“Celebrían wants to watch me get you ready for her,” he says in Elrond’s ear, voice low and warm. “If you think you are clean enough…?”

“I have been clean, you dreadful tease,” Elrond protests, and Gil laughs again. He helps Elrond out of the bath and then insists upon drying him off, which apparently requires further teasing and a pointed groping of Elrond’s ass to make him yelp.

“Are you boys starting without me?” Celebrían calls from the bedroom.

“No!” Elrond and Gil-galad call back in unison, and glance at each other for barely a second before they start snickering.

“Best not keep your lady waiting,” Gil says when they’ve calmed, ushering him forward with a pat on the ass.

Elrond’s cock twitches despite himself. Gil-galad just grins at him.

Celebrían is lounging on the bed, on her stomach in nothing but a dressing gown. She sits up when they enter, the unsecured dressing gown ending up more like a cape with sleeves for all it covers her. Elrond goes to her easily, hands sliding up her thighs before resting on the bed on either side of her hips as he nuzzles along the curve of her neck. She giggles, ticklish. “Hi, love.”

“Hi, beautiful,” he returns. There are few places that she likes to be touched these days, and while she’ll proudly display her scarred back with scandalously-hemmed gowns at formal events, at home she dislikes the reminder. Hence the dressing gown, seashell pink silk that Elrond thinks looks lovely against her soft skin and moon-silver hair.

Celebrían ducks down to catch his mouth in a slow, sweet kiss that makes him melt. Eventually she pulls back and says, “On the bed, sweetheart. Gil has work to do.”

#silmsmutweek #mine #fic #silm #nsft #shipping #elrond #gil-galad #celebrian

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wh6res · 3 years

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three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

#nct imagines #yandere nct #yandere kpop #nct smut #nct scenarios #yandere jaemin #yandere jeno #jaemin imagines #jeno imagines #jaemin scenarios #jeno scenarios #jaemin smut #jeno smut

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

He Calls Me Honey Tits

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: Here’s the third and last part of you and Arthur being lovers during his time in the whorehouse! In which this cheeky bastard slathers honey on your tits and teases you and pleases you until you’ve never been so damn aroused 🙃🍯💦

Pairing: King Arthur x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, Brothel Boy Arthur being a cheeky little shit (licking honey off your tits, eating you out and denying you his dick until you beg for it)

Word Count: ~2.2k

… Continued from Part 2 [Read Here]

“How may I be of service, honeybee?”

The beaming blue-eyed bastard leads you to his bedchamber and softly shuts the door. Though he’s the brothel boy it feels like you’re the whore. You’re far more smitten in his presence than you want to be.

Sensing the indignation fuming off your body, Arthur smirks as if it’s funny. “Anybody ever told you that you’re lovely when you’re huffy?”

Suddenly, your cunt lips feel swollen and puffy. Slick as if this cheeky thief had dipped his finger in your honey. Try to stay composed and classy. “You can’t work your charms to get your petty crime past me. This is about the money.”

“But of course it is. Just business.” Arthur winks and it’s without a doubt the wickedest shit you have ever witnessed.

Keep your wits before he sucks you deeper into this—whatever this shit is. “You said that we could meet at your place to sort out the fucking payment. Here I am to fucking claim it.”

“Ohh, she bites,” he taunts like he has any right. “Such nasty language from a mouth so nice. Love, what’s your price? Just name it.”

“I am not your love!” you furiously huff.

“Not yet. But I’d bet just the thought has got your honeypot all wet.”

Did he just—he just—sweet mother of Jesus—

“Mmm, I’d love a taste,” he teases. Sea-blue gaze mirrors the lust that’s written all across your face. “Can’t let such honey go to waste.”

“You’ve stolen quite enough already, I daresay.”

His voice is steady, yet his cock is raging madly as he steps so close that you can almost feel it. “Didn’t steal it. You just let it slip away.”

All your dignity and self-restraint, that is. Such is the picture that his passionate words paint; he’s driving you to fucking madness. Sheer destruction through seduction is this little bastard’s favorite game to play. And he won’t stop until he’s buried in your honeypot today.

***************

Just how this sweet sticky mess ended up spread all across your tits, you can’t quite say.

Fuck it. You’re naked on the boy-whore’s bed with honey slathered on your bare breasts and your cunt is dripping buckets. Blue eyes own you where you lay. Somehow the bastard has convinced you that for what he stole from you today at market, shameless pleasure is the best way to repay.

The session started with a fight over the jar that he had thieved. He taunted you until he wanted you more than he could believe. More than his station in this house even allows. Voices raised, daggers from your gaze. Aroused. Amazed.

Saw how his thirst aligned with yours, as shouts and hisses flung between you turned to roars, and pinned you down onto the bed with feral force. Paused to make certain you were both on the same page. A man of care and caution though the beast in him may rage.

And here and now with words unspoken that blue gaze of his explores. Impales you to the core, seeks out your secret inner whore. All set to free her from your inhibitions’ cage. The truth of you that any other man including your own lawfully wedded pig always ignores.

Do you want to fucking engage?

Of fucking course.

And so you do. Fire and water all at once, this man’s effect upon your cunt, flaming and fluid. This is what true pleasure is, you think as he attacks heavy and hot. Slut for the once and future king of fucking Camelot. Already his, as he claims your lips in a cataclysmic kiss, crashing together in a spell of breathless bliss.

He tastes of courage. Hunger, unfed all the stronger. Poor boy forced to live on stolen scraps and half-full bowls of porridge. Forced to fight and fuck and forage. Forge his way through filth without the faintest clue his royal blood doesn’t belong here. Here with you he’s poor no longer.

First few minutes of your time spent in his bed the boy-whore shatters you to bits.

And now you’re here with stolen honey smeared across your naked tits.

You gasp a giddy laugh at how ridiculous this funny business is. “You cheeky little shit!”

He smirks and lets the now half-empty jar of honey clatter to the floor. Hovering over you all set to make damn sure... that you will always and forever be his filthy little whore. “You know you fucking love it, honey tits.”

No fucking use denying it.

Arthur as well had stripped his shirt off earlier, in those first few seconds of this passionate blur, so you can see and feel the sculpted muscles of his abdomen and chest. He is a god and nothing less. Those chiseled ridges rub against your honey-covered skin and make a fucking mess. His mouth descends deliciously on yours again as skillful hands knead at the soft flesh of your breasts.

“Sweet little goddess,” he breathes out amidst the kisses and it’s too much to be honest. King among men making you feel like his queen. “Swear you’re the loveliest damn thing I’ve ever seen. The loveliest.”

The purity—he’s doing you so dirty, loving you so clean. Feel you belong here with him surely, more than anywhere on earth you’ve ever been.

Your fingers fist twined in his glorious gold locks. Hips bucking frantic to seek friction up against the fucking hard bulge of his cock. Still sheathed in cloth as he’s not yet disrobed his lower half, to free his raging shaft—likely to burst right through the fabric since he’s so massive and solid as a rock.

With every second that huge cock of his grows harder, taking your desire farther. Inner slut escapes the cage that he’s unlocked.

“Ughh—fuck me, Arthur...” you cry out, needy and loud, all honey-smothered, hot and bothered. “Fuck...”

His focus shifts off of your lips down to your neck and then your chest and suddenly he starts to suck.

Your mouth gapes wide to make a sound but has no luck.

Choking on air as you surrender to his touch. He’s just too much. Soft lips squeeze tight around your nipple, slurping honey as it dribbles. Grinds the stiffness of his meat against the wet heat of your crotch. Glittering blue eyes glance at you beneath the gold fringe of his lashes, as your body throbs and thrashes. Getting off on the effect he has because he loves to watch.

You moan and whimper, one breast lavished in attention from his slick tongue while he works the other with his skillful fingers. Swipes his thumb across your stiff peak as he teases at the other with the pearl ridge of his teeth until your senses fall apart. “Please, Art...”

The bastard chuckles in a breathy little huff. “Don’t worry, love. Promise I’ll fuck you good and hard,” he reassures you meaning it with all his heart. “Just thought I’d better whet my appetite to start.”

Of course he’d crack a stupid fucking pun, while you’re coming undone. Scrapes his enormous bulge against your aching cunt, with a deep grunt, reminding you what you both want. How hard he’s gotten and how wet you are. You’re seeing fucking stars.

Flattens his tongue against the valley of your cleavage now to slobber up the sugary gold mess that’s gathered there. Licks slowly upward as he owns you with the bright blue of his stare. Honey spreads all across his trimmed blonde beard and sweetens every hair.

Of all the men upon this earth no one has ever been so fair.

Dips in the hollow of your throat, and you damn well nearly explode.

And then those luscious lips are back on yours again. Lose track of where your breathing ends and his begins.

The taste of honey should be overwhelming sweet, but something sweeter yet sparks into being where your soul and his so intimately meet. The hunger only this can feed. Each on the road to being everything the other ever needs. Perhaps not so just yet, but in the moment you first met, he’d planted that passionate seed.

Already want him now to plant another seed deep in your hole. Already know that someday he will fill that role.

But not today—today is all about pure pleasure and the game he came to play.

To claim you as his whore in every goddamned way.

Between kisses you plead with him although it’s such a struggle now to talk. “Please, Arthur—fuck...”

He snickers. That majestic bulge of his harder, and bigger. “Mmm, so pretty when you’re begging for my cock.”

Those words—the sheer filth has you so aroused it hurts—you shut your eyes for fear they’ll pop out of your sockets.

He reminds you now of how you had denied him when he’d asked you for a sample of your product. Shut that door and tried to lock it. On his own terms he had gotten his hands on it, taking what he wanted. Dirty and dishonest. “Wouldn’t let me taste your sweet honey at market. Seems I’ll have to steal that pleasure from your honeypot myself before I fuck it.”

Oh, that’s obscene—wait, does he mean—what—shit...

Upon the bed he shifts, sudden and swift, a blaze of sex, until his lust-crazed gaze is level with the slick between your legs. And that’s when the truth of it hits.

Young Arthur’s hunger for your cunt is even stronger than his hunger for your tits.

The two of you have kissed and licked most of the honey from each other’s mouths by now so that his tongue is mostly clean. And that’s exactly as he wants it so that he can taste the flavor of his lovely future queen.

He’s a complete whore for your flavor. Buries his beautiful face deep in your folds like every precious drop was made for him to savor. All at once delicate yet dominant, as he feasts on your cunt. Art makes an art of it, worshipping every part of it.

Your wetness glistens as it gushes out across his gorgeous features from the second he descends; and yet with him the peak of pleasure’s not the end. Rather the very fucking start of it.

You shout his name, loud without shame, your inner slut unleashed with only him to blame. Your body and soul absolutely his to claim. The stolen honey and the money were just all part of the game; he knows that this is why you came.

Needless to say you need his cock inside you now but he intends to make you beg. He could spend days continuing to feed facedown between your legs.

One of his hands has wandered down to his own crotch to give himself the stimulation he deserves, now as two fingers of his other hand are pumping in your hole, while he devours your cunt whole, lips latching tight around your tender bud of nerves.

Your thousandth wave of pleasure rolls. Scream for his cock until he’s finally stripped himself naked and mounts you with his rippled muscles pressed against your curves.

And now at last uses your body for the purpose it was put on earth to serve.

Your tight hot cunt is so completely fucking soaked, he nearly chokes and almost spills his load inside of you at his first fucking stroke.

Catches his breath and bites his tongue, knowing he can’t hold off for long. Till now he’s never known true home. The women of this brothel housed him and raised him since he was young, yet though he’s grateful for their love he never quite seemed to belong. With you he does as though he’s been here all along. Feels like the whole world is his kingdom. Kingdom finally fucking come.

You’re feeling everything the same. Someday his queen for now his filthy little slut. The flood. The flame. The fluid heat as you’re split open on this man’s majestic meat until you feel his power beating in your blood. The beast in each of you untamed. Such fucking force. His power is all fucking yours. Of fucking course.

Kisses you long and deep and hard, until the white hot bliss that’s burning through him shatters into shards.

Pulls out in time to take his meat in his own fist and spray his seed across your stomach and your chest. Painting you like a work of art. Pearly white gleams against the honey gold that still clings to the soft skin of your breasts. Just from the feel of being coated in his load your throbbing cunt pulses until it falls apart, convulses in a rush of pleasure rooted somewhere in your slutty little heart. You’ve never felt so fucking blessed. Of all the moments of your life to date this is without a doubt the fucking best.

Yet this is all just how it starts. Your days here in the boy-whore’s bed have just begun and you don’t doubt he’ll take you to new heights of ecstasy for all the fucking rest.

He’s feeling everything the same. Smiles and calls you by your name—honey tits.

Knows you fucking love it. Though at first you’d claimed the reason for this visit was just business... clearly that’s not what this is. Business has turned to pleasure just as you both wanted it.

***************

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

Double edged scalpel ch. 7

Ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 ch.6

Summary: in which Cassandra gets bullied and other sappy shenanigans

---

"Oh Nicole dear, so happy to see you again!" Duke's voice was cheerful as ever, tone masterfully crafted over years of being a businessman.

Nicole, taking small steps inside the ornate and now full of items room, greeted him with uncharacteristic giddiness.

"Duke! How's business?"

"Same as always, I'll be heading to Beneviento later tonight to deliver some tools for her," he took a long drag of his cigar and, noticing green eyes scanning over multiple items and said, "I also have your order."

With a childish grin on her face, she approached him, hands shuffling inside the small bag attached to her belt that all staff members had. She pulled out the money owed for her package and, in return, the Duke placed a decently sized box in her arms. With an oof she shifted it in a less precarious position, it's heavy contents seeming to plot against her small frame.

"Unfortunately I can't stay, duty calls. But thank you Duke."

"No worries, I do understand that your employers can be quite," he took another drag of his cigar, looking for the right word. "...demanding"

Nicole chuckled. That was one way to put it.

"Well until next time dear. Or if you find yourself in need of something else, I'll be here until six."

---

She was only wearing a long white towel when she heard a knock on the door. Assuming it was another maid, or even Anita inquiring about whether or not she'd be joining the rest of them for dinner, she opened the door just a crack.

It was a surprise to see none other than Cassandra standing there, her elegant frame in odd contrast with the modest corridor. She flung the door open, letting the brunette inside and took a quick glance down the hall, making sure no maid was on the floor after fainting due to fright.

"What are you doing here?"

"Aw, are you not happy to see me?" She was pouting, but her tone was joking.

Nicole rolled her eyes, but the small smile on her lips betrayed that she was indeed happy to see her. Cassandra only laughed instead, a beautiful melodious laugh, so unlike the dark cackles heard by prisoners down in the dungeons.

"Just sit down, I need to get dressed," Nicole pointed to the bed before moving to the small dresser and pulling out a clean uniform.

Cassandra went to sit on the slightly disheveled bed, eyes following the redhead's form as she let the towel drop to her feet and started to put on the various layers of her uniform. Then golden eyes darted to the box sitting on the bed. The tape sealing it had been cut not long after Nicole brought it back to her room to make sure all its contents made it safely. Not that she didn't trust the Duke, but postal service was postal service.

"What's this?" Cassandra inquired, trying to read the label but having no success as it had been scribbled over with a marker.

Nicole stilled for a moment, hands frozen on her white button up. She cleared her throat and shyly admitted:

"Actually that's for you. Do open it if you want."

Cassandra's eyes widened, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. The gesture had really caught her off guard. She gingerly lifted the lid, inspecting it's contents for a moment and then hummed.

"And here I was thinking you like my hair. With how much you love to pull on it and all that."

Nicole, now fully clothed and sporting a deep blush, marched to her and plucked the two boxes of red hair dye from gloved hands. She placed them on her nightstand and, with her voice just slightly more high pitched, she turned to the brunette.

"Those are mine, I meant the rest of it." And, after a chuckle, "I mean have you seen my roots? They're horrible!"

Cassandra only gave her a deadpan look and, after a long moment, said: "I think your hair is beautiful."

She didn't wait for a reply, not that it would be anything more than a stammered mumble of course. Instead she chuckled and returned her attention to the box. She examined the rest of its contents and then gingerly lifted one of the few tomes inside. The cover was glossy and malleable, it's pages shiny and with a distinct typography smell to it. It was so unlike her other books, it's pristine white state making it feel extremely out of place in the castle. She glanced at Nicole inquisitively.

"I do appreciate the gift, don't misunderstand me, but surely you know there's a small bookshop's worth of medical books in this castle."

"With all due respect, from what I've seen most of them are at least somewhat outdated. Interesting, yes, but I thought you'd like to learn something more...modern." Then she pulled out another book. "This is the same one I used while studying forensic pathology. It would make teaching you some things easier. Uh… assuming you want that."

Nicole averted her gaze, suddenly unsure of the usefulness of her gift. Cassandra however grabbed her chin between two fingers and pulled her gaze back on her. She smiled, finding the shy demeanor beyond endearing.

"I'd love that."

A small smile appeared on thin lips and Nicole leaned in to kiss Cassandra. It was soft and short, but no less intimate than the deep kisses they shared so many times in Cassandra's bed.

They had to go anyway.

---

Let's go to the library, Cassandra said. It'll be empty, she said.

When Cassandra swung open the intricate door, only to find the other two sisters lounging on one of the couches, it's not like they could do a one eighty and leave the room. That would've been both impolite and highly suspicious.

Instead, Cassandra grabbed her arm protectively and led them to the reading spot farthest from the other two. They placed one of the textbooks on the small desk and Cassandra took out a notebook. This would've been a lot more fruitful with an actual body on hand, but there were still a couple days until the human flesh supply had to be replenished and Cassandra was beyond eager to start on some things. So, for now, they had to settle for theory alone.

It took all of five minutes for the other two sisters to make their way to their desk. Daniela had a giddy yet curious expression on her face, while Bela seemed as unreadable as ever, if not for a glint in her eyes that betrayed her interest.

"Whatcha dooooing?" Came Daniela's voice, who cocked her head not unlike a curious puppy would while looking at the book's contents.

"Working," Cassandra replied, a slight growl accompanying her words.

"Could've fooled me," Bela spoke from behind the youngest sister, eyeing the hand protectively placed on Nicole's waist.

Cassandra snapped her eyes at the blonde, looking ready to throw her notebook at her head but Bela ignored her sister's ire and addressed Nicole instead.

"What are you studying?"

"I uh- just some basic anatomy concepts. Thought it would be a good idea to start with the things that the older books in the castle don't cover."

Bela only hummed, grabbed an ornate chair nearby, and plopped herself at the desk, opposite from the pair. Daniela mimicked her sister, but instead chose to sit down right by Nicole on the small couch. It took more willpower than she would admit not to glue herself to Cassandra's side when Daniela's face came uncomfortably close so she could look over the book's diagrams. She stood still as a statue though. After a couple seconds of silence and Nicole trying to figure out what she was supposed to do, Daniela drew her head back, looking at her with what was possibly the most serious expression she had seen on the youngest sister.

"You do realize we're not going to hurt you right? How could we lay a finger on our dear sister's lover hmm?"

Nicole's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't sure if it was due to the word used to describe her or how Daniela apparently knew that she was utterly terrified of her. Cassandra sighed beside her and, seeming to at least partially read Nicole's thoughts, clarified:

"Your heartbeat."

Oh. Yeah. Yeah her heart was beating a million miles an hour. And apparently the other three vampiric occupants of the room were able to hear it loud and clear. It did very little to ease her mind.

"Please do calm down, it feels like someone is having drumming lessons. Bad ones," Bela complained, head resting in one of her hands like she was already bored.

"Then shove a sock in your ears," Cassandra snapped.

Bela simply leaned back in her seat and stretched her arms above her head. "And risk not hearing my beloved sisters sing along to some pop song?"

Cassandra shut her mouth, a blush now slowly spreading across her cheeks while Daniela burst out into laughter. Even Nicole couldn't help betraying the brunette and letting out a giggle.

"I didn't know you could sing."

"I can't."

"Au contraire dear Cassie! Should I remind you of the last time Dragostea din tei came on the radio? The pathos!" Daniela reached over Nicole's lap to lightly shake her sister's knee through her giggles.

Cassandra only let out a long groan, face now hidden in her palms. "I hate you both."

"Mhm, we love you too," came Bela's reply, accompanied by a chuckle.

Nicole couldn't keep a small laugh while she snaked her arm behind the brunette to show some form of support against the merciless assailants. Maybe not a complete betrayal.

The scene really had something deep within her heart aching beautifully. It reminded her of the countless times she and Alex would mercilessly tease each other, but still have each other's backs through thick and thin. And for this familiarity to come from people that any sane person would consider bloodthirsty monsters? Hell, maybe they should start considering her a monster too, for the only word she could use to describe them in that moment was endearing.

"So," Bela lightly clapped her gloved hands. "Now that your pulse isn't giving me a headache anymore, what are we doing?"

She had a confident smirk on her face, but her eyes betrayed curiosity. Same for Daniela and, although mixed with a hint of annoyance, Cassandra. She opened the book in front of her, one of general human anatomy, and decided that the digestive system would be a good enough starting point.

---

Their little impromptu lesson didn't last more than two hours. Two hours that proved to Nicole just how oddly human all three sisters can be. Of course she had gotten familiar with Cassandra, intimately so, but the other two still felt like two looming monsters hiding in the shadows. At least up until now.

Bela seemed oddly intrigued by Nicole's explanation, although unlike Cassandra, she seemed to view it more like a story than anything. Daniela seemed slightly more interested, asking questions here and there and even starting to giggle like a middle schooler when they got to the rectum section. That got an eye roll from the other two. Nicole just laughed, finally understanding Mrs Hawkins, her private biology teacher from before she was allowed to step foot in any public school.

After they were done, Bela simply stood up and bid them good night. Danila instead excitedly proposed the skeletal system for next time and picked up the books she abandoned earlier. Then, with a small tower of tomes she went through a door tucked at the very back of the room. Her study, Cassandra had pointed out as they made their way out of the library.

"I didn't know your sisters were interested in medicine too." Nicole kept her voice low, almost as if talking too loudly would disturb the shadowy hallways.

"More or less. Daniela likes it and has a bit of hands-on practice but she has her nose in romance novels more often than not. Bela finds it interesting but botany is what she really loves. That and classic lit." She added the last part with a grimace and Nicole had to wonder which author had offended her personally.

Before she could continue that train of thought though, her gaze moved to the windows, the cloudless sky beyond thick glass panels full of twinkling stars. Her mind kept going back to a few hours earlier and at what Daniela had said. Lover. Did Cassandra truly see her as one or was the youngest sister just being her over the top self. Did she see Cassandra this way? Nicole had not allowed herself to dwell on that up until now, the idea that the brunette saw her as more than an over glorified lab partner with whom she occasionally scratched an itch seemed almost laughable. But the small gestures of affection shown in ways Cassandra seemed to know best were undeniably there. And the familiar flutter in her chest at each of said gestures was also undeniably there.

"What's wrong?"

Cassandra's voice, accompanied by the slight echo through the empty hallway, snapped Nicole out of her thoughts.

"Oh um- nothing." She sounded as convincing as someone trying to sell you a fork while showing you a spoon.

And Cassandra didn't seem to buy it. She moved in front of the redhead, walking backwards with no concern over possible furniture to collide into along the way.

"You always get this… face when something's bothering you."

"I do not-" the indignation in her tone was weak, little more than an attempt to change the subject.

"Mhmm you do. You normally look focused. Kind of like, if someone tried to scare you by throwing an eyeball at you, you'd laugh." She would. "Now? Now you look like a rabbit that has no time to run and is just laying low hoping whatever's hunting it passes by."

Nicole shut up for a moment, only looking at the brunette in front of her incredulously. Maybe she was far more attentive than she gave her credit for.

"Uh. Just thinking." At a raised dark eyebrow, the no shit went unsaid, so Nicole tried to elaborate. "About earlier. When we were with your sisters and Daniela uh- Daniela called me your lover."

Saying that the words felt awkward on her tongue was close to the year's biggest understatement. It felt like pulling out teeth would be an easier task. Nicole had never been good with her words, having learned since childhood to keep her mouth shut. But the fact that Cassandra seemed to share her struggle brought some semblance of comfort.

"And?" As if they were talking about the weather.

"And… was she right in describing me as such?"

She couldn't help a small gulp when the brunette stopped walking, looking at her with a frown. Any sane person would be at the very least somewhat afraid in this situation. Sanity however was scarce these days as Nicole was afraid, though not of the bodily harm that may come from her inquiry, but rather of Cassandra's answer.

"Nicole, your tongue has been in my mouth." Amongst many other places.

The redhead's cheeks turned a slight shade of crimson and she mumbled for an answer. She wasn't sure how to tell her that sleeping together did not automatically make them lovers. But then again, Cassandra's thoughts remained a mystery more than anything.

Thankfully the brunette took the metaphorical reins of the conversation and stepped forward. She wrapped her hands around Nicole's arms, gentler than one would imagine possible from her, and bent down to whisper no more than an inch away from her ear.

"I'll have you know, I'm not particularly fond of letting anyone I don't deem important touch me. Especially not the way you do."

The words made something flutter in Nicole's chest, an unfamiliar and comforting warmth. Said warmth got chipped away at the slightest bit when Cassandra pulled back to look her in the eyes.

"Should I take it that it's not mutual then?" Cassandra's tone was nonchalant, almost as if she didn't truly care about the answer. She could keep doing whatever she wanted either way, afterall who was going to stop her? But to someone who got familiar with all her small quirks and habits, the waver in her voice was more than clear.

"No." The world slipped from her lips with no hesitation.

No hesitation, because the more she thought about it, and she didn't need to think a lot mind you, the more Nicole realized that she couldn't remember a time when she felt the way she did here. Sure the initial threat of death looming over her head was anything but pleasant, but once that melted into affection and nights spent in Cassandra's arms the thought of leaving didn't as much as graze her mind.

"No, no. It is," she repeated, more certainty making its way into her tone.

At that Cassandra smiled. A small, almost shy one would say if they knew her well enough, smile. Her shoulders seemed to lose some of their tension when she leaned down again, her lips stopping not even an inch away. Nicole wasted no time leaning forward, their mouths meeting in a kiss that mixed softness and need beautifully. Their lips slid against each other until, surprisingly, it was Cassandra to pull back and sigh.

"Come sleep, we have some cutting up to do in the morning."

Nicole frowned. "Tomorrow? Wasn't that supposed to be due in a few days?"

A devilish grin appeared on black lips, fangs shimmering ominously in the low light. "Bela caught a foolish man-thing sneaking around the forest on the castle grounds. She's really excited to turn this one into a nice steak."

The redhead only let out an oh in acknowledgement. Foolish indeed. At least they could finally put into practice a few autopsy tricks Nicole had been itching to show her.

She let herself be guided back to Cassandra's chambers and into her bed, that she had grown intimately familiar with. The last thing she felt before falling asleep was the brunette's cool skin, pressed against her own. A welcomed comfort among the myriad of soft pillows that surrounded them. Nicole wondered briefly if being undead meant it was hard to keep yourself warm, but the thought quickly slipped away as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

#cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #unhinged maiden™ my beloved #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #double edged scalpel #fanfic #the dimitrescu daughters

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writertitan · 3 years

Text

Saturday Cartoons

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 2001

themes: semi-mature content, morning after fluff, some good old-fashioned friends to lovers

requested by anon

Sunlight peered curiously through Levi’s curtains and caressed your face and your bared shoulders, gently coaxing you out of whatever dream you’d been having, already long forgotten. Though your back is turned to Levi now, you feel his warmth radiating towards you. With a blush, you remember the previous night, how his warmth enveloped you and made you dizzy with pleasure.

It had been the first night together after prancing around each other idly for months and months, always flirting secretly with glances and touches, never following through. After all, it was a little unwise to sleep with a friend. Nonetheless, you’d been invited along to happy hour with Levi and your little group, laughing into the night with no care for the time. The Friday night happy hours were the best; drinks upon drinks after everyone got off of work, empty complaints about the trials of the day and sometimes the entire week, and no worry about needing to go back the next day to do it all again.

Last night, however, things were electric in that buzzing bar with Levi and your mutual friends. It was one of the only times that you could stare at him as much as you wanted. Other times, everybody else strived to be inclusive, group conversations forcing you to look between everyone equally. Gawking at Levi would have earned a few jokes, a few jabs at your expense. But as the night wore on, your friends all getting more and more tired, more intoxicated, wrapping themselves into more intimate conversations of pairs of two or sometimes three, you seized the opportunity to melt into a one-on-one conversation with Levi. And, with each drink, the two of you had gotten closer and closer, thighs touching, shoulders brushing, and you were happy. It came as a shock when Levi whispered in your ear that you had to be more discreet so your friends wouldn’t get suspicious, more of a demand than anything. The acknowledgment of where this was headed was a surprise. Usually, the two of you skittered around it, halted the flirting before it became too serious, too solid. Not tonight. He told you to wait until it was time to go, and then you’d catch an Uber together. All you did was nod.

Now here you were, in his bed, one hand tracing the edges of sunlight on his crisp sheets as you struggled to prepare yourself for the inevitable and awkward morning after.

Your head throbbed just a tad, only a mini hangover dulling your mind, which you were thankful for. It was nice to be able to enjoy the morning, breathing slowly and evenly as you replayed last night in your mind over and over, your eyes closed as you thought of Levi’s lips, his hands…

His hands.

Your eyes snapped open when you felt feather-light traces down your spine, fingertips caressing you softly, barely noticeable had you not already been awake. Your face got hot instantly, knowing Levi was awake too, and you contemplated whether you should turn around or not.

Silly, you thought to yourself, I should turn around.

So you did, your eyes finding Levi’s stormy ones as his hand retreated back to his own bubble of space. He looked a little embarrassed, as though he’d been caught red-handed, but he played it off coolly.

“Good morning,” you whispered, voice still raspy from sleep.

“Good morning,” he echoed, eyes unreadable for a moment as he regarded you. Again, your face heated up, not knowing what to do next. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to stay the night? Maybe he’d expected you to leave before he awoke?

“I had fun last night,” you said, honest as can be. Slowly, you realized it wasn’t as awkward as you’d anticipated. Levi was, after all, still a dear friend to you. Things had just reached a new level. You contemplated for a moment how that would change things going forward.

Levi didn’t respond, but you smiled brightly upon seeing the small upward curve of his own lips, a rare smile gracing his features. One thing you knew about Levi: he smiled with his eyes. Even if a smile didn’t play on his lips sometimes, you could always see it in his eyes.

The rare smile on his lips touched the smile in his eyes today.

A silence wrapped around you again, not awkward but not comfortable, but filled with something you couldn’t quite make out. Unspoken words.

“There’s...a brunch place across the street,” Levi started, clearly a little uncomfortable, “Are you hungry?”

As if on cue, your stomach rumbled and you hid your blush by burrowing most of your face into one of his pillows, eyes still on his as you smiled with pure embarrassment.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“How embarrassing,” you complained, but you laughed as the words tumbled out. You sat up, shyly keeping the sheets wrapped around you. “Let’s go. I think a Bloody Mary will help with my headache.”

Levi perked up at that, cocking his head to the side. “Hungover?”

“Not quite, but I guess I had enough to make me feel nasty,” you told him, easily slipping into a normal conversation with him.

“Wait here,” he muttered, and you catch the way he hesitates before throwing the sheets off himself to bare himself to you. Of course you’d seen it all last night, but it was different in the morning, in the muted daylight peeking into his room through his curtains. Bashful, you looked away, also wanting to respect his privacy as he pulled on his boxers.

While Levi was gone, you scrambled to dress back into your clothes. You hadn’t made it very far, only able to have put on your undergarments and shirt, before he was back with a bottle of water and a bottle of painkillers. The thoughtful gesture made you blush again and you smiled, shy and grateful, as you took them from him.

“Thanks, Levi,” you said, popping two pills into your mouth and chasing them with some water. You were sitting on his bed, legs tangled into the sheets once more for some warmth, and you gazed at him as he also sat back down to join you. “So, when are we headed out?”

Levi was quiet for a moment, his expression a little thoughtful, but you couldn’t read the other emotion there until he spoke up.

“I was thinking we could just order in. Eat it here? Maybe just hang out?”

The idea made you perk up, finally picking up on that subtle shift in the atmosphere around you. Of course things weren’t going to be the same after sleeping together, but there had been a part of you that had been so sure that things weren’t going to change too much. Levi was offering to spend more time together and it made your head spin.

Not just a one night stand. You’d never wanted it to be, but this felt almost surreal.

You found yourself nodding eagerly before you registered what was happening.

Levi pulled up the website and let you look through the menu on his phone, not so subtly leaning in close so your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you browsed. Being more or less on the same page, wanting to still spend time together and not disregard last night as a one time thing, had made the energy clear and the awkwardness dissipate. You protested with Levi when he paid for the entire order, offering to give him money, but he scoffed and told you to knock it off.

Neither of you made a move to leave the bed. Unlike last night, this mood was calm and relaxed, both of you leaning into each other as you sat up against the headboard and gossiped and resumed your conversation from last night while you were still out at the bar. It was so easy with Levi, always. The only difference now was that you still felt nervous to test the waters. You were side by side, shoulders together with one of your legs draped carelessly over his, but could you stroke his arm if you wanted? Could you rest your chin on his shoulder while he talked about his clueless new intern?

The doorbell rang in the middle of one of your own tangents and you hesitantly pulled away from Levi to follow him to the door. He had pulled on a t-shirt and some sweatpants to go and answer to pick up your breakfast, and you awkwardly swayed in the background just out of eyesight, still clad in just your shirt and underwear.

As you moved to sit at Levi’s small dining table, he gives you a questioning look and nods to his living room.

“More comfortable,” was all he said, and you agreed. You sat on his couch and helped him take out your containers of food, watching Levi turn on the TV and immediately flip to the channel still showing Saturday morning cartoons. Your breath can��t help but catch in your throat as you flashed a small smile; you’d mentioned in passing last night that you sometimes liked to watch cartoons on your lazy days. The fact that Levi had remembered made your heart flutter.

This time, you weren’t going to be so shy and question if something was okay or not. The energy around you both was constantly shifting, ebbing and flowing, but there was no denying it. Though the question hadn’t come up just yet, you felt it now, stronger than ever: this was a new beginning.

You felt more confident about the way you pressed into his side as Levi smeared jam onto some toast with a plastic knife, and mumbled a thank you when he gave it to you to snack on. He casually lifted his legs to rest on the coffee table, with you mirroring him, and the both of you rested your breakfast on your lap as you watched cartoons.

Levi, always the ridiculously fast eater, finished way before you did and moved to immediately clean up after himself, but found himself right back at your side moments later. This time, however, his hands were free and you watched him stretch his arms above his head, not-so-subtly moving one behind you on the couch, and then slowly moving down to rest around your shoulders. You leaned into him and offered him a bite of your pancakes, which he was happy to munch on. As if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Each action got a reaction from you. When he started stroking your arm lightly with his fingers, you rested your head on his shoulder, eyes still on the screen. When you were finished eating and he wordlessly set the container aside without getting up to properly clean up, not wanting to make you feel like anything less than a welcome guest, you were huddling closer into him, practically on his lap. You knew the two of you were feeling the same. Nervous, excited, confused.

Finally, during a commercial, you were building the courage to speak the words into existence. However, Levi beat you to it.

“Is this okay?” he asked, head tilted down to look at you, still resting on his shoulder. You blinked a few times to regain composure, biting your lip as you looked at him.

You knew what he meant, of course. Did you want to be here? Did you want to be like this? Was the direction this was going okay with you?

“More than okay,” you replied in a breathy whisper. Levi physically seemed to relax under you and you couldn’t help the small chuckle that left you. “I’m...really happy. I don’t regret any of it.”

“Me too,” Levi assured you.

You felt a hand in your hair, threading through it gently, calming you, a silent action to let you know that he was willing to give this a try if you were.

And you were.

#levi x reader #levi one shot #levi fic #levi fluff #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan #snk fanfiction #snk #levi

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borkthemork · 3 years

Note

Drabble Request: Anne and Marcy after her rescue

You know what, Anon? You get a 2,600 word draft as a treat. Thank you for your patience!

-----

Anne had read books before.

She wasn't the kind of person to read long-winding literature like the typical bookworms back home, but she did read whatever interested her. From magazines to comics to zoo books about bird mating dances, Anne liked stuff that had meat to it.

Give her enemies to lovers, she'd cheer at the makeouts. Give her gut wrenching biographies about surviving the Himalayas, she'd bawl her eyes out. And if one gave her story about being one's true self under the guise and acceptance of a duck instructor then she'd quack it up and never be heard from again.

There needed to be meat, drama, scenes of people kissing in the rain. Stories were all about getting punched in the gut over some random guy, and that would always be the best part!

So she had no idea why Cynthia Coven never stood out to her.

It might be because of the choppy writing style or perhaps fantasy wasn't her thing, but that didn't make sense to her. After all, she'd read anything as long as it was interesting and somehow the Coven books just…didn't stick?

Sure, Cynthia had a pet squirrel. Anne could find a squirrel at the park anytime. Cynthia had spells, curses, people with talking body parts that shouldn't be talking at all. Okay, cool — ugh, why wasn't she interested? Everything about it seemed right up her alley!

She chalked it up to preferences and moved on.

But somehow, after all these years, the same book fluttered between the pages in her hands. And she found herself narrating, speaking the paragraphs out loud under the green canvas of her tent.

All because the bedridden girl beside her couldn't sleep.

It had been forty-six hours since Anne and the girls united. It felt a lot longer than that, if she wanted to be honest, but all the footing, fighting, and planning they did to get out unharmed from Andrias's castle had taken a toll on them. And for Mar-mar even more so, what with the amount of stuff that went down. A lot of explosions. Crying. Frog-on-frog violence.

So in this tent came privacy. Not enough privacy to basically stop Sprig or Sasha from barging in, but the makeshift walls were one of the most protected cliff faces inside the forests. So they were basically between a rock and a hard place.

And since Amphibia's nature became a hazard to not only the typical frog but aggro robot intruders, nothing got through as a threat in the end. Not even the huge mother frobo that she and Sash fought days prior.

Anne flipped a page.

The cold draft had slipped in and raised goosebumps on her umber skin. It almost seemed surreal that Summer started to transition out with the months passing, but the chirp of birds and the lack of cicada song had marked a new season, and now Anne shivered slightly with her narration.

Marcy's wounds needed to heal. From the remains of the stab wound to the headache to the numerous nicks upon her feet, if she didn't start sleeping then the medicine Maddie gave wouldn't come into effect anytime soon.

And if she didn't snore in the next ten minutes, Sash would have to knock her out with some sleepshroom grub saute and Anne wasn't going to let her get drugged anytime soon.

But from what was currently happening, Anne became unsure.

Marcy's eyes fluttered shut a few times. She would start drifting off at some random part in the story and then jolted back to listening intently as if nothing had happened. Nothing in the book could get her to sleep. Not Cynthia's introduction to werebeasts, her dramatic one-liners, or how she got knocked out for a minute straight from drinking a pint of Canadian beer.

Wait, could teens drink beer in Canada? Gah, that wasn't important!

What was important was that Marcy looked dead — terrifyingly dead — and no matter how much Anne tried to keep her eyes on the words, the fear clung to the recesses of her mind, asking if everything was going to be alright despite the girls' current luck streak.

That maybe this would be the last time she'd ever see Marcy alive. All because she fell asleep.

Anne leveled her voice when these thoughts struck her, and hoped Marcy didn't note the hitch in her throat or how she blinked faster to catch herself from crying.

Because Marcy was strong. She was stronger than people gave her credit for.

Anne peered down. Marcy's thumb had pressed to the side of Anne's fingers, their eyes meeting for a second; one harbored bags under her eyes, the other of worry.

"I promise I'll sleep." Her smile reached her gaze, the weariness plain on her worn out dimples and ashen cheeks. Anne might need a washcloth later. "It's been a long time since I've read the Cynthia Coven series, my brain can't help but pay attention."

"I know, Mar-mar." Anne closed her eyes for a second and let out a relaxed sigh. "Seven months can be pretty long."

"Tell me about it." Marcy's eyes lingered at the ceiling, licking her lips. "I've been so busy with everything that's been happening that I've barely caught up with the latest book."

"Yeah." Anne smiled. "You know they've got a new release out?"

She blinked. Almost as if Anne punched her in the face at that moment. "Are you serious? Aw man, I missed so much."

"Hey, it's alright. It'll be waiting for you when we get back." Besides, Anne already wrapped the edition in a lot of Christmas paper, might as well keep the surprise.

But Marcy still looked miserable. She pouted, letting her sink more into the mattress almost comically, and Anne bit back a laugh when she groaned. "Oh man, I'm so excited, this sucks! At least tell me if Cynthia gets over the Bridge of Quintessence."

"I don't know what that means and besides, you're two books behind, why would you wanna spoil it!"

They shared a laugh and carried on. Anne missed this. She did. In between the page clips and the eagerness flowing in Marcy's voice, it almost seemed like they were back to what they once were: Two girls laughing and making fun of bad jokes, giggling at stuff that didn't make sense in the story. It almost made the worries over Andrias and her parents grow into background noise.

Almost.

Anne perked up. A question had flown past her, and now Marcy stared at her, inquiry clear in her eyes. "Oh, sorry, I zoned out a bit. What'd you say, Marbles?"

"I'm curious, Annarama."

"Curious about what?"

Marcy's eyes traveled over her shoulder for a second. Was it the fatigue? Judging from how she fiddled with her fingers, the question must've been something serious, maybe something about Andrias or what happened back in the castle.

Whatever it was, Anne readied herself as she waited.

And then:

"Is that mine?"

Anne blinked. She ogled her book, then at the bedside table with its medicinal herbs, then the Thai Go logo printed fresh on her shirt. "What's yours?"

She pointed to Anne's waist.

When Anne looked down, the realization struck her like a bat. Under the filtered sunlight, she almost forgot that the yellow jacket around her waist was there to begin with, snug and tight in that hard knot Anne tied everytime she stepped out of the house.

And somehow, it remained clean from countless dimensional hops and Super Saiyan power-ups. And now it was here. Being scrutinized by her and the girl opposite her.

With that, she started to sweat.

Right, that.

A nervous laugh burst out from her mouth, making Marcy stare at her more out of concern.

How was she going to explain that?

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" She rubbed her neck, trying her best to pick out the right reasons in her mind, but nothing stuck out to her. "It's a funny story actually, so funny that you'll probably forget in the morning so why not another time?"

A smile formed. "I don't know, Anne." Her eyes scrunched up too in pleasure, pressing her thumb against Anne's knuckles. "I'm all for sleeping to a comedy. Remember when we watched Borat? I laughed so hard I passed out."

"Oh, Mar-mar, that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" She then pulled her hand away, frowning. "Unless I'm pushing you, then I'll just—"

"No, no. You're fine!" What wasn't fine was how her heart pounded against her chest. Or, that the more she tried to take a deep breath, Marcy's growing concern made her laughter sound more like an old man wheezing from an asthma attack.

Anne was about to make a dumbass out of herself and that was fine! As long as she stayed calm and explained then maybe she wouldn't feel nervous about this.

Wait, why was she nervous anyway? It was just a jacket!

Oh, she knew why.

"Okay." Anne placed the book down, trying to regain her breath. Might as well go for it. What was the worst that could happen? Don't answer that. "So you remember how I've been trying to find my way back after I got through the portal?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I didn't want to forget. Not like I would've but I thought you died and I knew taking down Andrias was the only way to avenge you and get Sasha back." Anne sharply inhaled — words speeding past her ears. "So I thought 'Hey, I'll carry your jacket so I don't forget' and I basically wore it around everyday until I finally found a way back. So…"

Marcy's stare didn't help her sweating as she spoke, giving jazz hands to finish it all off. "Here I am. Yeah."

Marcy continued to stare at her. She'd never seen her this gobsmacked before; usually she found a way to ask questions, to let her enthusiasm shine through with eager stride, but now she became a deer in the highlights. All agape. All wide-eyed.

Oh Frog, I broke her.

"Mar-mar, you okay?"

"So you wore my jacket as a reminder to stop Andrias," she asked slowly, "after months of finding a way back?"

Anne puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe?"

"Anne…"

"Okay, okay, yeah." She hung her head, defeat in her voice. "I did."

"Oh." Marcy's eyes widened to the size of saucers, a shaky exhale breaking through. "Oh."

Anne stood up. If she didn't get out in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to explode. "Okay, yep! That's it for the Cynthia Coven series! Goodnight, Mar-mar, I'll check up on you later—!"

"Wait, wait!"

Marcy latched onto her wrist. Her ears pounded on, hard to focus with her sweaty palms and the shallowness of her breath. Because this whole situation was awkward and weird and it made her feel funny things in her heart and darn it Anne should've handled this back on Earth — not while they were stuck in the middle of a Frog darn war!

"Anne, please look at me."

She did.

When she turned, the sight surprised her. Marcy's cheeks had darkened considerably as they held each other's gazes, the hold on her arm still having them tethered to one another.

Then the touch loosened slightly. It didn't speak of fear nor did it speak of pain. It didn't speak of the desperation Marcy once had when she held her fists in the broken halls of the Newtopian castle. What Anne instead found was reassurance. A reassurance in their interlocked hands, at how they gazed intently under the tent canvas, a heat creeping well onto Anne's cheeks too.

"It's really sweet that you wore my jacket like that." Marcy then bore down at the bedding lines, almost squeaking her words. "And very clever! Yeah! Because a physical reminder is a great alternative to notebooks and to-do list, and since my jacket has emotional connotations to me, of course you'd wear it! It just makes sense."

Marcy coughed into her sleeve, words almost a whisper. "You've always been good at improvising, after all."

"Mar-mar..."

"And thank you."

Anne stopped. She could've honed in on the bustling Wartwoodians outside. Or the rustle of the forest trees. But she focused on the comforting tap of Marcy's fingers, and the gleam in the girl's eyes — almost as if Marcy was about to cry.

"You've always been kind," she murmured. Her fingers trailed circles on Anne's palms, leaving her to shudder slightly under the touch. Especially when Marcy's eyes grew half-lidded. Remorse on her lips. "And to know you worked so hard after everything I did to you and Sash, I don't how I'll ever make it up for it."

"You don't have to do that," she said. Her words drifted between them, remembering what Mrs. Wu said a few months ago: That Marcy was the best out of all of them. Because she always needed to be. "What Andrias did was not your fault, and I'll beat him again if he ever makes you think it is."

"Besides," she said, putting on a smile. "Having you beside me has always been enough. Honest."

But Marcy's grief remained on her face, unspoken as her fingers faltered their dragging on Anne's palms.

Because she wanted to hold her hand instead, both their fingers trembling from the bedridden girl's arm.

"Anne, I hurt you. I did. No matter how much I try to justify myself, I still omitted everything about what I knew." Her eyebrows furrowed, glaring more at their shaky hands. "I was selfish. I wasn't honest."

"Don't say that. You didn't know this would happen, I understand this now."

"But you're still angry." Marcy sighed. "I know you are."

The conifers rustled silently. The faraway bugs whistled, occupying each interval as they held hands, their gazes observing anything but the other. Until Anne couldn't think up a better excuse anymore.

As much as Anne tried to forgive, there was something frightening about the resentment in her skin, underneath all that warmth. It went against every lesson she learned. Every lesson of compassion. Or maybe she was just denying it for what it truly was — a tight angry wound that had reason to exist as much as their handlock.

Her body sagged at the thought. She'd gotten so far, trying to deny anything about herself would reverse so much.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm still mad. I don't want to be, but I am. But that doesn't mean I was gonna leave you guys in the middle of a war." The next words were under her breath. "I never wanted you guys to get hurt in the first place."

Marcy brushed her knuckles. "Take as much time as you need."

"I think a few months is enough."

"Or a year."

A smile. "Maybe more."

And Anne held her hand until the silence heard their heartbeats. Until their smiles returned slowly, surely.

"I talked to Sasha before you came in," Marcy said.

"You did?"

She nodded. "Mhm. And I don't know if she told you this, but we both agreed to a concordance." Marcy faltered. "An agreement I mean."

Anne snorted. "You don't have to dumb yourself down around me."

"Heyy, I'm not, I just don't want this to sound...clinical."

"Right."

The younger girl shuffled closer to her, which was surprising enough with the limited room on the bed itself. But when Anne held her eyes, there came recognition of something new. Was it relief? Worry?

"What we agreed on is that you don't have to forgive us. Maybe you'll be mad at us for a long time—"

"Mar-mar, I'm not—"

"Let me finish," she said softly. Anne hesitated. She resolved to caress Marcy's knuckles instead, and, of course, she didn't seem to mind. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide, we're not going to abandon you. If you want us out of your life, we'll respect it. If you want us to stay, then we'll respect that too."

Marcy inhaled, slow and careful.

"And when you're ready, I'll make sure to be close by."

There had been times where Anne couldn’t predict what her future held. There had been numerous moments where Anne wanted to quit, to get angry, to question how her life hit upon all these coincidences like pinball and found herself in the most surprising of situations.

But when Marcy finished, stared at her, waiting for her to let her statement sink in, everything seemed to click in place. For just a single moment.

Each word had come out resilient, well thought-out. Anne could imagine the planning so clearly: How Sasha and Marcy sat in the same positions as them, sat with their heads together as they discussed what to say. And the more Anne listened, she could only hope that Sasha was just around the corner, ready to say the same things in her own Sasha-like way.

But for now, they gripped each other's hands, squeezed their fingers until Anne could only think of the heat. The burn in her nose. Then the bit-back sob and her trembling lip as Marcy pressed a thumb carefully to Anne's cheek, rubbing the tear trail away.

Because out of everything Anne predicted to find at the other end of the portal, it wasn’t this.

"You promise?"

Marcy smiled, the ends of her lips twitching weakly. "I promise this time." Her voice broke. "I do."

With it, came the waterworks.

#amphibia #marcanne #annarcy #asks #Anonymous #fanfic #this took weeks to write here ya go

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smallrainclouds · 3 years

Text

Made To Break

Yandere!Hypnos x reader (gender neutral)

Word count: 5k

Warning: Yandere bevaiour, dubcon/noncon, sex in later parts

No beta. Read at your own risk.

A/N: part one of two. Enjoy.

Your father was a fool.

But perhaps You were just as foolish.

💮

When the letter arrived, you couldn't believe that the same man wrote it.

Your father always wrote in neat, tight letters but the letters You got were loopy, large letters that fused together at odd parts.

You sat in your car outside your childhood home. The front yard was nothing but overgrown grass now. You could see the lack of care the home had gotten over the years in the cracks and chipped off paint. The overcast skies and trees with just a few leaves holding on only added to the depressing picture.

You bit your lip as you pulled out your father's letter from your bag.

With shaky hands, you unfolded it again for what must have been hundreds of times.

'My dearest child.

I gave it all up. I have found a way to eternity. But it cost me everything.

Forgive me.

I just wanted to see your mother again.

Father.'

"Madness. Simply mad." You murmured. You could feel the tears welled up in your eyes, you knew your father loved your mom. Her loss had slowly eaten him alive since you were a child.

Now he was just a body in a hospital room. It was unlike any coma the doctors had seen before.

The doctor, an older woman with short gray hair and sharp blue eyes, had felt more like a grandmother than a doctor.

But even with her kind face couldn't soften the blow that your father will likely never wake up again.

You sniffed as you used your hoodie sleeve to rub at your eyes.

"Okay. Okay. You got this. This was your home too." You tried to smooth yourself with little success. With a deep breath for courage, you made your way to the house.

When you got inside the dark house, you stubbed your foot on the piles of books by the door and they promptly fell over into a heap.

"Urg, fuc-owww. Okay, Y/N great start.Just amazing." You pulled out your phone. You could make the numerous texts from your partner-no, now your ex but you just bypass those for the flashlight.

You shone the light around, there was nothing but a big mess. Books and papers had overtaken the house and you can smell the old fast food bags that piled into the corner.

You could see on one wall, writing in wasn't in English and strange markings. A single gold and red eye stared back.

"Fuck."

💮

Hours later, you had made headway in the madness that was now your childhood home.

At least your room had been mostly spared. Only some odd books here and there. And the many, many dried poppies on your floor.

You tossed the broom on the floor as you flop down along with it. You didn't realize how bad it had gotten. You only got your room back to normal, let alone the rest of the house.

Guilt swelled in your chest, you should have been more aware. You knew your dad wasn't the most stable person which isn't good but this was something else.

But…

But...

You had been busy dealing with your 'friends' group, the breakup and the last of your exams.

You covered your face, you already cried three times today and you weren't not about to start again.

Your phone buzzed, and you couldn't stop the laugh. Speak of the devil.

You rolled over to your side and pulled your phone close to you.

You swipe away the message, you were not dealing with any of your former friends right now. Your cheating jerk of an ex could keep them all. You had far more important matters to attend to now.

You opened up the gallery app, you took many photos as you could with the last of the daylight left.

You zoomed in on the writing, you had thought it was nonsense at first but after a few more looks,you could see the repeated words. You just didn't know the language.

There was something deeply wrong in this house. You could swear you could feel something was in there with you. But if friend or foe you weren't sure. You tried not to think about how your only protection was your childhood baseball bat.

But what did your dad do? You normally are able to pick apart what your dad was doing but this was something else unknown. You kept checking the pictures with the creepy red and gold eye in hope of finding something.

Slowly you could feel tiredness sinking in your bones, and before you knew it, your eyes drifted shut.

💮

A warm hand cupped your cheek, and you pressed into it with a sigh. You couldn't remember the last time you were touched so tenderly. You think for a moment it was your ex but they never did that before.

The hand left but then you were lifted up against a warm chest. You heard murmurs as sleep pulled you under again.

💮

Rushing water reached your ears and for a moment, you thought you could hear the sounds of birds.

It took you a moment to notice that you weren't in normal clothes but a tunic that went over one shoulder. You saw a brooch with two wings in its place. You should be more worried but you felt too tired to care.

You turned your head with a yawn. Whose lap were You using as a pillow? Before you could look, a hand covered your eyes.

"Not yet, You still need more time." A man's voice... but You didn't recognize it. You made a questioning sound but he hushed you gently.

"Blood and darkness, you are just as beautiful as I remember."

You reached up and stroked his hand, trying to understand what was going on.

"I don't remember… you." You slurred quietly.

"I know. It's not your fault. All it matters is that I found you again."

His thumb rubbed your cheek, "Now go back to sleep. I will be there soon."

You sighed as you sunk back into sleep.

💮

You stared at your bedroom wall, not able to breathe. There was someone else here and they apparently tucked you in bed, blanket pulled up to your chin and all.

You took a breath and tried to listen to any sounds. You waited, surely you would hear footsteps or something.

But there were no sounds, none at all.

It took all of your nerves to get out of bed. You grabbed your childhood baseball bat, it was small but you could still get a good hit in.

You remembered you left your phone on the ground and turned to look for it. It wasn't there, not on your nightstand or desk.

'Great, some creep definitely got my phone.' you tighten your hold on the bat, and after listening for a moment, you slowly push the door opened.

Without saying a word, you slowly walked out though the house. You were sure you would find out who invited themselves in.

The mess was still the same, the writing on the wall was still there. You went through the house twice and found nothing.

You heard the sound of a single bird singing in the backyard. You followed the sounds, it almost felt like it was calling you.

The bat dropped from your hand and You couldn't stop the tears in your eyes.

The backyard had been overtaken by red poppies, there was almost no grass left. the singing stopped when you stepped outside. But a soft hoot had You stared up into the tree and saw a single little owl stared back at you.

It's eyes were light yellow.

💮

It was late morning now, the overcast skies have darkened and You are sure it will start snowing soon.

You had given up finding your phone. You s out of your bedroom.

"Fine, you can have it! Good luck guessing the password, you jerk!" You shouted into the backyard. There was no response but you didn't expect one. You had already tried to find the owl but it must have flown off.

You couldn't stand the smell of the old food anymore and tossed it. You found some tea that was still good and stood in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil.

You changed out your tight jeans and hoodie for a pair of much more comfortable jeans and an oversize sweater.

Thankfully, like your bedroom, the kitchen was also mostly clean. You found as many candles as you could, which wasn't many. Two kept the kitchen dimly lit.

You checked the light bulbs, nearly all of them had burned out. Just one more thing for you to fix.

You rubbed your face with a sigh, at least all the appliances were working. And you won't have to go without water either.

You flipped through your dad's notebooks in hopes of finding something. It was in the second notebook you finally found a name. It had been underlined and circled.

"Hypnos?" You murmured, "Who the hell is that?" It doesn't sound like a human name you heard of.

You made your tea, tucked the notebook under your arm. After cleaning off the big armchair and side table, You began going through the books in the living room. Nearly all of them were about ancient Greece, which you knew nothing about.

Your eyes went to the wall writings, that would explain why you didn't know any of the words.

Did your dad believe this stuff? You looked down at the open notebook in your lap. You skim some of the pages, the only name that came up was Hypnos.

"The god of sleep, huh?" You looked at the stacks of books. Why would your dad care about some god of sleep?

You keep looking though, and found a basic guide to Greek mythology. You flipped through the pages, "Come on Hypnos babe, where are you…"

You grinned when you saw the name in bold print. You skim past most of the information, but one part caught your eyes.

Despite being considered as a gentle and kind god, he has been known to strike others down. In the death of his lover by a human warrior (whose name had been lost to time) he had caused the world to go into a permanent state of sleep, never to waken again.

Only his mother Nyx, goddess of night, was able to talk him down or fight him depending on the storyteller and restore the world. In oral storytelling that has been recorded, it is said that he still uses dreams in hope of finding his lost love.

"Oh dad. No wonder." Your heart twisted, sad that your dad's last days have been spent on some myth. He must have been so far gone to think any of it was real.

But was he wrong? You stared out the window, knowing there was somehow a field of poppies waiting.

Your gut flipped, and told yourself it was just one of those freakish nature things.

💮

You didn't quite realize when you fell asleep. You sighed when you felt a hand touch your forehead followed by a kiss.

You tried to wake up, but the voice murmured something and you just hummed. Your eyelids are too heavy to open anyway.

When the arms scooped you again, you just sighed and curled against the chest.

💮

You felt soft grass tickle your face. You pushed yourself up quickly. You were in the tunic again and you could see a sea of poppies and other flowers surrounding you.

A thick fog of sleepiness tried to pull you back but you ignored it. Not again, damnit.

You stood up, your legs felt so wobbly like a baby deer. Dispise your best attempt, You fell on your knees, the call to sleep overpowering.

You gasped when a hand covered your eyes. You grabbed his wrist, "No, I don't want to go back to sleep." You could feel the fog of sleep growing stronger. You kicked at his legs but got nothing but air.

"I'm sorry, but not yet." His voice came next to your ear, you could feel his breath on your skin. You tried to move away but you fell against him. Your head lolled upward against a shoulder.

An arm wrapped around your waist and held you firm.

"Soon, I promise. I just have to handle a few more things. I will be here when you wake up." A kiss was pressed against your temple.

You wanted demand for answers but you were already falling back into the darkness.

💮

"Not again." You moaned. You sat up, the blanket pooled in your lap. What in the world was going on?

You were back in the oversize sweater and jeans. You press your fingers against your temple. Those kisses felt so real.

Are you going mad too? Just like your dad? You gulped, feeling so very alone.

An hour later and some crying, You somehow found the willpower to make it out of bed. Snow was falling down now and a healthy inch was already on the ground.

You made it to the living room when you saw him by the window, snow falling down against the glass. His sheer size made the living room seem smaller. He was reading one of your dad's notebooks in one hand, a quill floated around next to him.

Some part of you, deep inside of you knew were looking at Hypnos, God of sleep.

"It's you." Your voice cracked. His shoulders tensed up as he turned. Bright, yellow eyes stared at you. "Oh you were the owl too weren't you?" You said numbly.

He nodded slowly, "You've been crying again." He said concerned, his eyes scanned you up and down. He tossed the notebook to the side as he took a step toward you.

Unable to tear your eyes away, you grabbed for the first thing you could reach, a thick and heavy book. And with all of your strength, you launched it at his head.

"Blood and darkness!" He ducked to the side. You reached for another and hurled it.

"It's you!" You snarled, feeling like a rabid animal. "You did this! What did you do to my dad?! To my fucking phone?!"

The bastard ducked again. "Hey, I didn't do anything he didn't ask for!" He held up his palms, stretched out to show he wasn't a threat.

"I won't hurt you. I would never lay a finger on you, Y/N." His voice was soft, kind like he was dealing with some animal.

You stared for a moment, rage overtaking any sense you had. "You've been the asshole putting me to bed every night." You grabbed another book and hurled it. "How dare you!"

And of course, he sidestepped the book. Which just made you angier.

"I don't care if you're a god. Make my dad go back to normal. Or I will find a way to hurt you somehow!"

"He didn't tell you anything did he?" The god asked, a wry smile on his face. You picked up another book, and he just sighed. "Have you tried aiming? Sounds crazy, I know but maybe you could actually hit me this time?"

"You don't get to be disparaging, not with all the trouble you made for me." You gestured with the book as if it would help make your point.

You stood behind the armchair, using it as a shield. You knew you wouldn't win in a physical fight but you weren't going to make it easy for him.

Hypnos sighed, "No, no you're right. I'm sorry." He ran a hand through his curls, a soft smile on his face.

"I'm happy though, you are still as courageous as you always have been. I wasn't sure what I would find after all this time."

"What are you talking about? I have never seen you before. I think I would remember meeting an ancient god." You snarled, not enjoying whatever game the god was playing with you.

"Most people don't try to fight a god with books, my love. Not even other gods." Hypnos smiled.

"If I had something stronger, I would beat you with that. Be happy that I don't have my bat on me. You still didn't answer anything."

You pointed at the wall with writings. "I want answers and I want them now. You said we met before, when?"

Hypnos was silent, his eyes tracing the words on the wall. He stepped closer to the center of the wall, his fingers traced the words. "So that's where he messed up. I told him to check with me before doing anything." He murmured to himself.

After a moment, he looked at you.

"In your past life, you were going to be my consort. I've been looking for you for a very long time.."

You stared, quiet in your disbelief. He waved a hand toward the wall, "Problem is that the spell got messed up. I think your father was rushing and couldn't finish the spell the proper way. That's why you don't remember anything."

You shook your head, laughing "No, none of this makes sense."

"Y/N, stop hiding behind that ugly chair, and we can talk more about what happened." Hypnos' voice tried to sound calming, but you heard an undercurrent of eagerness. Of hunger to it.

You shook your head, "No, and don't take another step toward me. I can see what you're doing. That lighting thing your fingers are doing, Hypnos." You tighten your grip on the book, cursing yourself for leaving your bat up your bedroom. Not that it would be much better.

Hypnos' fingers abruptly stopped the magic spell. His smile faded and his eyes stayed on you, waiting for your next move.

You eyed him, you haven't been able to land a single hit on him but you didn't see any signs of super speed yet.

You might be able to get out of the house and into the car before he could get you. But what if he just could teleport or something you haven't thought of?

It was a risk you would have to take because since you saw him, he watched you like you were some prey for him and you didn't want to stick around to find out what Hypnos had planned.

The living room front way will be no good but the backdoor was in the kitchen, if you could make that, it would be a longer run but you would have far more chances for escape…

You dropped everything and took off like a shot into the kitchen. You almost sailed into the sink but used the motion for more speed.

You heard Hypnos yelled your name followed by something you were sure was a swear word in Greek.

The yard, full of poppies and snow greeted you, you hissed as your socks got soaked from the snow.

You almost made it to the gate, and past that, you could see your car.

Freedom.

You didn't see the root sticking out of the ground, but you saw it on the way down.

The breath knocked out of you when you slammed into the cold ground and mere seconds afterwards, you felt hands on your shoulders followed by a pressure against your back. Hypnos leaned down, his lips against your ear, and he spoke in must have been Greek.

"No. Nonono." You gasped, fighting for breath but he just shushed you. His fingers brushed against your cheeks almost lovingly.

Your eyelids slided shut.

💮

When you woke up, your fingers were curled against an unfamiliar red blanket. You sighed as your eyes drifted shut, you couldn't remember the last time you felt so….warm and safe.

You heard the sounds of paper moving around and your eyes fluttered open.

Hypnos must have cleared off the sofa and placed you there. You could see the written wall behind him, post-it notes dotted between the words and some of them were covered with lined paper, new words on it.

Hypnos was sitting on the ground, notebooks and paper surrounded him. A quill tip between his teeth, his golden eyes almost glowed in the dim lighting.

It took a moment of staring but you noticed Hypnos's cloak was gone. Your fingers tighten when you realize you were under his cloak. You took a moment to look at him as he kept reading the notebook

While he wasn't the broadest person you've ever seen, there was a solidness to him. You could see the lean muscles in his arms and shoulders. The gold bands he wore only highlighted the muscles.

You tore your eyes away. 'Jerk.' you thought even as your cheeks warmed.

"I don't like you very much." You spoke, voice rough with sleep.

Hypnos looked up to you, not saying anything. He took out the quill and twilled it between his fingers.

You rolled your eyes at him, unmoving your spot under his cloak. He stared, looking thoughtful for a second before he leaned toward you with a wide smile on his lips, "If you don't like me then you should return my cloak."

"No, it's mine now." The words slipped out your mouth before you knew it.

You blinked at his laugh. You thought he would be upset.

Hypnos chuckled fondly, "Word for word."

At your questioning look, he continued.

"You don't remember yet but the first time we met, you were trying to find medicine for humans. I think you were upset at me because you got lost in my cave. I brought you back home and I gave you my cloak so you could get warm."

You sat up against the arm rest, holding on to the cloak. Not ready to give up the feeling of safety yet. You bit your lip, not quite sure what to say.

His eyes glazed over, the quill still spinning between his fingers. His voice turned quiet. "You were so beautiful, so strong, so determined. You fought for humanity, not that they even remember, those worthless animals, the whole lot."

He seemed lost in a memory so you just waited it out, letting him talk.

"You hated the fact I took half of their lives away from them. And that I often took more."

His eyes meet yours, and his whole face softens. You flushed at the realization that you could make him do that, to have that much power over another being let alone a god.

"I couldn't give up the half, it was mine by birthright but I was slower afterward, let them have more time to themselves. And I never took more than half. The only reason I got called a kind god was because of you."

You stood up, still holding on the cloak and walked over to him. His eyes never left you, and you had to tell yourself to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

You kneeled next to him and after a second, you reached out to touch his shoulder. You were surprised at how warm he was, how human-like he felt. Maybe you were wrong about him.

"Hypnos. I-I I'm sorry you lost them. I can hear how much you love them, especially after all this time. But I am not whoever you think I-"

"How much I love you." Hypnos interrupted, his hand covered your own. "I never stopped looking for you. I just need more time to fix this." He waved a hand to the wall.

You shook your head, "I am not then though. You are just like my dad, always looking for a person who isn't there."

"No, your father was. The woman who birthed you died and is in the underworld now. You, however, are here in front of me." Hypnos leaned closer, he tightened his hold but it wasn't painful, it was almost comforting. "You are them, your eyes, your lips, your nose even the way you move and talk. You are them, given life again."

"How?!" You said despairing,surely even he could see what nonsense he was saying? "How could a god become reborn as a human? Or even go back to being a god?"

"There are ways. There is always a way." Hypnos replied darkly. He took your other hand and held them between his own warm hands. "You haven't even let me talk to you, to tell you what happened."

"I don't want to." You whispered, "I don't need to know what happened. I just want to know what it will take for you to understand that I am not them."

Hypnos didn't say anything for a few minutes and the silence grew heavy.

"Did he summon you?" You asked, trying not to feel guilty, looking at the swirls of words on the wall, in the middle of the circle was a single red and gold eye staring back.

Hypnos stared at the wall along with you, "He really didn't tell you anything did he?"

You dug out the letter from your front pocket. "This was the last thing he wrote to me. This isn't his normal writing."

Hypnos read the letter, his eyebrows rose and reread it again. "Blood and darkness, what a damn fool."

"Hey, that's my dad you know." You murmured, "Also you guys are both doing the same thing, you with me, and he with my mom."

"No, not nearly the same thing." Hypnos scoffed. You rolled your eyes at his words. You moved on, tired of this fight for now.

"Where did dad get this information anyway?" You asked.

Hypnos sighed as he rubbed his forehead. "From me. I loaned out the books I have for this kind of stuff. He told me that he could handle the translation since it had to be a two person spell, think of it as a bridge, your dad could visit your mom every time he dreamt. But I had to be on the other side to help build it."

"You trusted him? I mean you seem like you don't like humans."

"I didn't. This whole mess just proved my point. But…" Hypnos shrugged, "I knew you wouldn't let me just take you without making sure your dad wasn't alone. I wanted you to want to come back to me, especially after everything I've done."

You brushed your fingers along the cloak, "Are you talking about when you put the whole world to sleep?"

"And most of the gods." Hypnos added. "I still don't remember much of what I did. My mother or brother still hasn't spoken to me since then."

Hypnos looked so worn down, his brow furrowed and you wanted to smooth the stress away from him but you held back. You already let him touch you even if it made you want to run. Toward him or away from him you couldn't say.

"I've been so blinded by the thought of having you in my arms again, I didn't foresee him going rogue on me." He murmured quietly.

Hypnos fixed his gaze on you, but you looked away, cursing the flush on your cheeks.

"I took care of the stuff he wouldn't have been able to do. With the underworld and stuff. But he fucked up, he changed the spell without telling me. And he did it badly. He tried to bring her from the underworld and you can't do that, and now he has to deal with the punishment."

"Well, can't you just erase it? Or do a new spell? I mean, you are a god right? Do you even need this stuff?"

Hypnos slid his fingers under your chin, making you look at him. "Listen to me." His serious tone kept you from pulling away. "No one can't take the dead from the underworld. Not me, not Hades or even my mother. It's the cost of life. Right now, he is being punished for his pride and when he does die, there is a good chance he won't be able to find your mother."

You swallow, your heart breaking, "Is there nothing you can do?"

"I don't know." Hypnos said. "I was already putting my neck on the line just to let them have a link."

"What if I agree to go with you, to see if I am the one you are looking for? I will do whatever you need me to." You asked.

Hypnos didn't respond, his eyes glazed.

"Hypnos, please." You begged, "I can't just let him die like this-"

He spoke finally, "I will talk to Persephone. I can't promise anything. I'm still banned from the house after the 'Great Sleep'."

"Thank you! Thank you, Hypnos." You felt dizzy with relief and hugged him. You squeezed him, and buried your face in his neck. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." Hypnos chuckled, his hands on your back,"You might not like what you'll get."

#hypnos x reader #yandere #self insert #hades hypnos

106 notes · View notes

uygmoeb · 3 years

Text

write it down

your best friend was never supposed to find that notebook, let alone read it

pairing:: hueningkai x gn!reader

genre:: fluff, best friend to lovers au

word count:: 1.5k (please this was supposed to be so much shorter :') )

The light outside was fading when you made it home but summer nights were warm and this one was no different. With a gentle breeze to ruffle your hair as you walked up to the door. You could see the lights were on and you knew your best friend was inside.

It was a relatively new thing, Kai coming over when you weren't home but the two of you had grown so much closer in the past few months of your friendship. You trusted him wholly so giving him a key to your place wasn't a very difficult decision. He came over almost every day anyway and his plushies had already begun to infect your apartment.

Though you didn't mind, especially not since realizing the feelings you had for him. He made your heart pick up it's pace with his gorgeous smile and gave you those butterflies in the pit of your stomach. It was getting hard to hide the way he made you feel, though you still did your best. No way were you going to ruin being his best friend just for the way you felt.

You opened the door then, shaking the thoughts from your mind as you spotted him in the kitchen. It appeared to you that he was trying to cook something but it was obviously not going well. He had made a huge mess on the counters and a small fire shortly erupted on the stove making him yelp and jump back.

"Kai! What are you doing?" you rushed forward to help him, panic at the thought of him being hurt clouded your mind. He looked upset as you picked up the pan that was on fire to put in the sink so you could put it out.

"I'm sorry y/n! I was just trying to make dinner for you and..." he sounded so dejected as he spoke and once you were sure the fire was out, you turned to face him.

"It's okay, nothing terrible happened. Are you okay?" you raked your eyes up and down him, looking for any sign he'd been burned as he fidgeted where he stood.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm sorry..." he met your eyes for a moment before looking back down to his feet. You could clearly see how sad it made him that he couldn't make dinner and it broke your heart a bit.

"You don't have to apologize, as long as you're okay it's fine." you shook your head and went to face the mess he'd made.

"How does delivery sound though?" you asked and he couldn't help but giggle. It was a relief to hear him laugh again and it eased the tension in your shoulders instantly.

He went to order it quickly once you'd asked and then came back to help you clean up. By the time the food was delivered, you'd finished cleaning and Kai was back to being himself. His usual smile was plastered on his face once more and your heart was back to stuttering.

"Are you going to come eat?" you looked to the kitchen where Kai was still standing on his phone. You'd moved to the couch with the food in front of you on the coffee table.

"Yeah, I just want to go grab something first." he said and was off to your bedroom. You shrugged and began flicking through the tv shows to find something to watch while you both ate. Once you found something, you began to pull out the food from the bag so you could set it in front of your respective seats on the couch. That's when you realized that he'd been gone for quite a while.

"Kai?" you shouted and watched as he walked back towards you with something in his hands.

You stood up quickly and the color drained from your face as you made out the black notebook that was flipped open. You realized you must have left it on your bed before you'd gone to work this morning.

You had to admit, you had a terrible memory so you kept lists on your closest friends. Most of them knew it too. You wrote down everything from favorite movies to most hated food items. But you kept the most detailed list on Kai, who had more than one page compared to everyone else's. One of his pages also had an admission of your feelings and there was no doubt in your mind that's what he had read.

"Y/n..." he took his eyes off the page and looked to you. Nausea rose up and you felt like you were going to be sick as you stared at him with the notebook. All you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears as your thoughts ran wild. It was all in his hands now, you could lose your best friend this instant depending on what he did next.

"You never said anything. And you were never going to..." he said slowly and all you could do was open your mouth for words that failed you. You waited for him to make his next move as you stood so helplessly. The time felt like it was moving too slow as you both looked at each other. You couldn't read his expression and it only made the anxiety grow.

“Why are you being so quiet?” the concern on his face was clear as he stepped closer to you. He set the notebook down on the counter, still open to the page with everything you’d written about him.

"Because, you were never supposed to see that... And I don't want to lose my best friend..." you whispered and dropped your eyes to the floor. You didn't want to look at him anymore, you could have died of the embarrassment you felt right then.

"Y/n. Look at me." Kai said with a sternness you'd never heard from him. You obeyed slowly and met his eyes that you still couldn't quite read.

"You're not going to lose me. And you really think I didn't know? The hyungs have been teasing me for months about your crush... And mine." he said, his tone much more gentle now as he moved closer to you.

Your eyes widened and you couldn't process what he was saying as he brought himself so close that your bodies were almost touching. Heat raised in your cheeks and ears and you just knew your face was bright red. You couldn't help but look at the still open notebook behind him, and his hand on your cheek snapped your attention back to him.

"What? You need to write down that I like you, Y/n?" he teased with a little laugh as his thumb traced over your cheek. His touch fogged your brain so much you could barely think and the way it felt like it'd burn right through you didn't help either.

"Shut up... of course I don't..." you mumbled slowly as your eyes studied his face that had moved much closer to yours than the last time you'd looked at him. It was when you felt his breath on your face that you stopped breathing completely and it was enough to make your pounding heart stop in its tracks.

"Hmm, why don't we both shut up and you kiss me?" he mused and you froze at his words, but before you could say anything he leaned forward and pressed his beautiful lips to yours.

Your returning breath caught in your throat as he kissed you gently. His lips were soft and gentle against yours and he didn't apply much pressure, giving you every chance to pull away if you wanted. But who in their right mind would?

Once you quickly processed what was happening, you couldn't help but smile against him and kiss him back. A new excitement bloomed in your stomach as his arms wrapped around your waist and yours moved to his neck. It felt perfect to be kissing and holding him at that moment.

The kiss didn't last too long and he pulled away from you with a grin. He rested his forehead against yours with a small sigh, and neither of you moved to let go as you melted into one another. You rushed to etch this moment into your brain so you'd be sure to never forget this.

"I don't think you know how long I've been waiting to do that." you couldn't help but smile at him as he spoke and tightened his arms around you. He was so, so warm and his body felt like heaven against yours, even you couldn't lie about that, and this feeling was so much better than anything you could've daydreamed about.

"The food is probably getting cold." you blurted out and he laughed as you took his hand in yours to drag him onto the couch. The notebook completely forgotten about as you both began eating.

"So... I get to be your boyfriend now, right?" your cheeks flushed red again and he couldn't help laughing at the quick nodding of your head.

As the night continued, all you could think was just how fast you were falling head over heels in love with your best friend.

#hueningkai x reader #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai scenarios #hueningkai drabbles #hueningkai #kai kamal huening #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt drabbles #hueningkai fanfic

94 notes · View notes

pascalpanic · 3 years

Note

“You can call me whenever you want… Even if you don’t have a reason to.” with Javi 😩 OR marcus moreno bc I think it fits him too

Personal Number (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: You’re lonely working as the American ambassador’s secretary. You miss the days of being down with the agents as a receptionist. At least you get to talk with Javier Peña on the phone somewhat often.

W/C: 1.5k

Warnings: language, brief mentions of sexual content. this is pretty tame.

A/N: I LOVE JAVIER. can you tell?? thank you for this idea Thea!!! I love it so much and I hope you like it too. Also, can you tell I like writing phone calls? I just think it’s so fun and a medium that isn’t covered super often.

it’s definitely not because I like not having to write about body language or action.

Javier Peña was a flirt. You knew that from the start, from the stories you’d heard from the other women around the embassy. He was cute, you admitted. Tight shirts and equally slim-fitting jeans, dark hair, lean and strong. He walked with power in his stance.

You liked him. He was a nice man, respectful. He flirted with everyone, but he never went too far. Sure, he’d slept with a solid chunk of the women who worked here, but he was supposedly a wonderful lover. His methods were unorthodox in the field, but he got what he needed. He was incredibly clever, setting up traps and getting information by any means necessary. You talked occasionally, when he’d stop by because you had a message for him at the receptionist desk. He was good for conversation. He liked the cinnamon candies you kept on your desk.

The other women talked with you more than he did. You and the other women chatted, ate lunch together. The rare female presence was much appreciated in such a testosterone-laden environment. You all got along well. Even compared stories of sleeping with certain agents, how their skills at finding the clit ranked, how snuggly they were after, how receptive they were to certain acts. It was fun.

Javier was a busy man. The phone on his desk rarely rang. If someone needed someone around the embassy, they went and talked to them in person. It was an excuse to get away from your desk, people figured. You rarely used the phone too, even as a receptionist. You’d answer calls when they came, but they were usually directed other places, with specific extensions. People here were more direct.

That was before you’d been appointed as the ambassador’s secretary. It was an honor. It meant you were good at your job. You’d taken it, bragging to the other girls over lunch. Everyone was excited for you.

The job, you found out, was dry. It consists most days of making phone calls. Stechner, Ambassador wants you. Ambassador? Stechner’s here. Yep. I’ll let him in. Hi, we’ll take three orders of arepas- sorry, yes sir? Scratch that, he wants four. And can you throw in a coffee- one second, yes sir? Got it- with four creams and two sugars.

You doodle on a notepad many days. You read newspapers or reports. You proofread memos for the ambassador before he sends them off to someone important. It’s draining and dry and you have to admit you hate it.

“Peña,” a voice answers the phone.

“Hi Javier. Are you busy?” You ask.

He smiles a little as he hears your voice, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. “When am I ever around here?” He asks, and you chuckle.

“I know the feeling.”

The two of you had talked a few times before. He was nice enough, if curt. Usually, he was busy. People only came to you when they needed something as a receptionist, and now even more so as a private secretary.

“How’s the promotion treating you?” He asks. He’d heard word as he talked with others. Noticed your spot was empty for a day or two before being replaced by another woman. He missed the little candies you kept on your desk. You always kept cinnamon disks stocked in a separate jar from the seasonal candies for him.

“It’s… good,” you nod, drawing a little fish on your notepad. “Kind of feels like a demotion sometimes. It’s boring up here. And lonely. I miss being around to talk with people.”

“We miss you,” he admits with a smile. “You still keep those cinnamon candies on your desk up there?”

You shake your head, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder. “No. Ambassador doesn’t like them, so I switched over. I did get some new fun caramel flavored stuff though.”

“Damn,” he chuckles.

“Would it make you come up here if I had them?”

“I may have to visit the ambassador more often if you did,” he teases, and you chuckle softly. “Poor little social butterfly, cooped up on the highest floor, away from humanity.”

“I do feel like Rapunzel some days,” you sigh, still smiling. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I was supposed to ask if you were busy for the ambassador, not for myself. He wants to see you if you have a minute.”

“Yeah, I’ve got time. Right now?”

“Right now.”

You can hear shuffling on the other end. “Let me put my signature on one more paper and I’ll be up.” He hangs up and you sigh. There was the most interaction you’ll get for the day.

It seems that the closer the men get to Escobar, the more the ambassador needs to see Murphy and Peña. You don’t mind. The two men are funny, and the way they interact makes you smile.

Peña talks to you more than Murphy. Steve is more likely to go outside to smoke, while Javier smokes at his desk. That means you dial him more often simply because there’s a higher probability he’s at his desk. Not because you enjoy talking with him more.

The two men had picked up on calling you Rapunzel. Your energy and excitement was draining day by day, and they compared your new position outside of the ambassador’s office, high on the top floor of the embassy, to Rapunzel’s tower.

You playfully called them Javi and Stephen in return to annoy both of them. It didn’t work on Javier. It turned out he liked that, and you could tell by the way his voice softened. So you kept that.

“Peña.”

“Guess who?” you ask dryly, tapping your pen against your notepad.

The man chuckles. “You must be having an exciting day up there. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Ha.” The word is humorless and flat. “Ambassador wants to see you two.”

Javier groans. “Kind of busy.”

“Well, I’ll tell him that,” you nod and write down on a legal pad- separate from your doodling pad- Peña busy. 11:30. “How are things going down there today?”

“Annoying. Steve is a pain in my ass- hey, shut the fuck up,” you can hear him say even as he removes the receiver away from his phone. You giggle at that, smiling as he speaks again. “Sorry. Can you guess who that was?”

“What was he saying this time?” You ask, twirling the cord to the phone around your finger.

“Nothing,” he insists, but you can hear Murphy shouting. Some message he’s trying to get to you.

“Well, alright. Call up when you’re less busy,” you ask him and hang up.

You really want to know what Murphy was going on about. You dial his desk and he picks up. “S’this Rapunzel?” A southern accent twangs.

“Of course,” you chuckle. “What were you shouting into Javi’s phone?”

“Oh, nothing. Oh, hey, wait,” he says, pulling the phone down and pressing it to his chest. You can hear the muffled voices of the two men, but not what they’re saying. He puts it back to his ear quickly after. “Anyway, it’s nothing. We’ll call you back when we’ve got a minute to come up.”

Odd, you think, before going back to your work on your desk.

The phone rings again an hour later. “Ambassador’s office,” you say with a gentle lilt to your voice.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” a kind but rough voice speaks through the phone. Javi.

“Hey,” you chuckle a little. “You guys ready to come up?”

“Uh, no, not yet. But I do want you to write something down for me.”

“Anything,” you nod, priming your pen above the piece of paper.

Javier rattles off ten numbers, and you diligently write them down on the paper. You repeat it back and he affirms that it’s correct. “Got it. What is it?”

“It’s my personal phone number.”

“Javi, the ambassador already has your phone number.”

“No, I know. It’s for you.”

Oh. Your heart flutters excitedly in your chest, causing you to let out a soft giggle.

“I like talking with you. Our phone calls are the highlight of my day. You can call me whenever you want… even if you don’t have a reason to. I just… like hearing your voice. I like you.”

You clutch the paper, grinning ear to ear. “Well, I like you too, Javi. I’ll be using this,” you assure him, looking down at it and beaming. “Now, you said you’re busy. Get back to work.”

“Yes ma’am. See you in a bit.”

Click. Dial tone. Your heart fills with sparks and little fireworks, sending you into a loud laugh of excitement.

The thick oak doors swing open. The ambassador looks at you with concern. “Everything alright out here?” He asks you.

You nod, biting your lip and looking down to hide your grin. “Yeah, yeah. Great, sir. Peña and Murphy aren’t ready yet. They’ll be up later.”

The man gives you a nod and closes the door behind him.

The grin returns. You trace the freshly-dried ink, the nine numbers that will connect you directly to Javier at any time you want. You pull your contact book from your purse, sitting beneath your desk, flipping to a clean page.

Javier Peña, you write.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

personal number

You go back and draw a small heart next to his name.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña #narcos fanfic #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pascalpanic

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 3 years

Text

Inferno dreams

Summary: A 23 year old girl gets the role she's been waiting to get for years. She didn't know until she got on set that she'll be working with her crush Chris. After weeks of growing clothes to each other and falling in love with out the other ones knowledge you and Chris finally express your feeling!

Chris Evans x female! Reader

Warning: fluff, friends to lover AU, implied smut

Masterlist | word count is 1.9k | Chris request are closed until I clean my inbox out | hope you all enjoy this |

Your heart is racing, palms are sweaty, legs are bouncing as you wait for that all important phone call. You've been waiting your whole life to be an actress. Many years of watching your idols on screen and learning from them how to be a good actor was going to be put to the test today.

After what felt like years your phone rang. You jumped at the sound, quickly picking up the phone. You waited a couple of seconds so that it didn't look as if you were desperate before you picked up the phone.

"Hello." You sounded like you haven't talked in years as you said hello. "Hi, is this y/n?" The voice behind the phone asked. You cleared your throat before you answered yes. There was a brief silence before you heard the voice again. "We'll Miss. Y/l/n you got the role."

You gasped, your hand coming to cover your mouth. "Oh my gosh. No freakin way." The guy on the phone laughed. "Yep you got the role; they're going to need you on set in three days so you can start filming."

You stopped freaking out to say okay, thank you and to hang up the phone. As the call ended you let out a squeal of excitement. You got the role, you finally were an actress.

You felt like crying and screaming at the same time. There were no words to describe how you felt in that moment.

Those three days passed bye with flying colors. On the third day you got up nice and early wanting to look like a million bucks. You ate breakfast, had a nice long shower, did light make-up, and dressed up in some pretty decent clothes. You packed a few clothes because you'll be spending about two month on set.

You left your home around 10am, driving to your new job. The music was cranked up in your car despite it being beginning so early. If people saw you they would've thought you were crazy. You were just super excited.

You arrived on set about an hour later. You parked Your car and got out to grab your luggage. As soon as you shut the trunk a smiling woman with brown hair and a clipboard in her hands, came up beside you. You smiled at her a little confused. "Hi."

"Hi y/l/n, I'm Maria and I'm going to be your assistant. I'll be showing you around and things. Would you like to see your trailer?" She asked in a sweet voice. "You nodded while picking up your two bags. "Lead the way."

Maria led the way to your trailer. When you arrived she opened the door for you and let you walk in. "I'll be back in about an hour so we can go on set and meet the director. Your script is on the couch so you can read it. If you need anything you can just call me."

Maria smiled before she waved bye to you. She shut the trailer door and you took a seat on the couch with a huff. I'm finally here you thought to yourself. You smiled as you picked up the script flipping through the pages. This was going to be fun, you just knew it.

You've been reading your script over for an hour when you heard a knock on the door. You rose from the couch and opened the door to see Maria. "Time to go."

You nodded before you stepped out of the trailer and followed her. You both walked a short way to the main set and entered. The place was buzzing with people, it kinda made you nervous but you kept following Marie.

"Here's the director, steven." Maria stopped in front of a man who was talking to someone else. "Oh my lead actress y/n, it's nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand and you happily shook it. "Hi."

Steven looked over his shoulder flagging someone down. "Y/n I'll like you to meet Chris." You turned to look at Chris who you thought was just a random guy, but when you saw that it was Chris Evans, you gasped slightly. Luckily he didn't catch that and stuck out his hand. "Hi y/n, I heard so much about you."

Holy shit! He knows your name… stay cool.

"Hi Chris." Your hand stayed enveloped for longer than needed which made you pull away as you felt your face heat up. You turned to Maria seeing her smiling, her lips pressed together. She definitely saw what was blossoming.

"Well set starts in a few minutes. While we wait you two can get to know each other. Steven and Maria walked away leaving you two alone. You placed your hand in your pocket, looking down at your feet. "It's very nice to meet you." You Mumbled as you looked up at him before looking back down at your feet. Chris smiled seeing how shy you were. "It's nice to meet you two y/n. I heard this is your first time acting, that's very exciting."

You laughed, "yeah, it is. I've been waiting to be an actress for a while now." Chris nodded, "well you're here."

You and Chris talked for a while. You both talked like you've known each other for years. Your shyness soon faded and you were full on talking to him.

Chris was already liking you. Your laugh made him smile harder than he was before, Your voice was soothing, everything about you made him feel good. He wasn't going to deny his crush that was growing. He's never felt this way about a woman.

Set was soon called and you and Chris soon started acting together. You loved Chris's acting just as much as he liked yours. Your chemistry was felt by everyone on set, Steven was quite happy about that too.

Around 10pm, after many hours of working, the set was done for the day. You left to go to your trailer. You didn't notice at first but Chris' trailer was beside yours and he was waiting to tell you goodnight.

When you saw him you smiled. "Hi Chris."

He smiled as he stood up from his trailer steps. "Hi y/n. Um I just wanted to say goodnight to you." He walked up to you placing his hand on your shoulder. "You chuckled softly as you looked at him. "Well goodnight to you too."

Chris winked at you before he walked off to go in his trailer. You did the same. Once you were in your trailer you plopped yourself in the bed with a smile. Yep, this was fun.

As the weeks went on you and Chris grew closer and closer to each other. He took you out for breakfast and lunch some days, he always helped you with your script, and he always said goodnight to you. You were falling more and more in love with him every second and it was getting to the point where it was hard to keep it in.

Chris felt the same way. He couldn't help but tell his family about you. He was always so energized when he spoke about you; everyone knew it was a matter of time before he asked you out.

Scott always teased Chris about it which pissed Chris off but he knew he deserved it for not telling you how he felt

You were sitting on the steps of your trailer after a night of filming. Chris was just returning when he saw you. "Hi y/n! Whatcha doing?" He came and sat down beside you. "I can't go to sleep." You said as you looked at him.

Chris nodded, "yeah there's days like that."

The both of you stayed silent for a second before you spoke. "Do you want to go inside my trailer and watch some disney classics?"

Chris eyes widened at your proposal. "Sure." You smiled before you got up and opened the door for you and Chris to walk in. You grabbed your laptop and sat down on the over size bed. Chris stood like a lost puppy, not quite sure what to do. You patted the space beside you, "come on sit."

Chris did as you said, sitting beside you. You started up your disney plus and you and Chris debated on what you'll want to watch. After a couple minutes you both settled on Lilo and Stitch. The movie played quietly as you both laid and watched.

Throughout the whole movie you felt Chris glancing over at you. It made you flustered and shy like the first day you met him. You tried your best to ignore him.

An hour later later the movie ended. "Wow that's great like it was when I was little. What do you think ch-," you stopped mid sentence when you saw Chris out.

You felt kinda guilty that you brought him over. He was probably tired and still decided to keep you company. Saint was the world to describe him.

You hopped out of bed and placed your laptop on the floor near your luggage. After that you grabbed a throw blanket and draped it over Chris before you crawled in bed and got under the blanket. You kept your distance from him the whole night thinking he wanted it but Chris didn't.

The next morning when you woke up, Your head was buried in his chest and his bulky arms were wrapped around your waist. You frowned as I tried to figure out how you got there. Chris stirred awake as you did. He was very aware you were in his arms.

"Good morning y/n." His morning voice was raspy sending shivers down your spine. "Good morning Chris." Chris chuckled as he looked down at you. You smiled softly at him. Before you could even think straight you placed your lips on his. God they were as soft as you imagined they'll be.

Chris couldn't help slip his tongue in your mouth. You moaned softly as you cupped his face. The kiss got heated, so heated the clothes were stripped off and love making was made. His body against your body, his moans mixed with yours, and his burning desire to pleasure you was too much to comprehend. He made you feel so good, like you were the only woman in the world. He didn't stop until he pleased you like you should be pleased.

When you both were done he laid down beside you chest rising and falling. You looked over at him seeing a messy haired Chris. "That's so good. I- I have no words."

Chris chuckled as he looked at you. His massive hands came to cup your cheek. "I wanted to do that for a while now." You smiled as he continued. "I wanted to show you how I felt about you, how happy you make me, and how these past few weeks you changed me." Chris ran his thumb over your cheek bone, looking at you with his baby blue eyes.

"Yeah I've been wanting to do that too." You ran your fingers in circles over his chest as you tried not to get nervous.

"Y/n." You looked back up at Chris's eyes. "Yes?"

"I was wondering if you'd be my girlfriend?" He said looking at you. You laughed, "of course you don't even have to ask." You leaned in and kissed him with a squeal.

You never thought in a million years you would be kissing the one and only Chris Evans but you were a damn you were so happy about it.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

I'm working on two request rn!

@chris-butt @princess-evans-addict @patzammit @bval-1 @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @raveviolet @rynabarnesrogers-reading @enn-j @london-dreamer71 @harrysthiccthighss @captainamerica-is-bae @la-cey @weirdowithnobeardo @lovepeacefood @baby-i-am-fireproof @denisemarieangelina @evans713 @smyfmj @thereisa8ella @rororo06 @keiva1000 @ughitsnic @adriannajackson123 @marvelnaturalock @notyourtypicalrose @dummiesshort @onetwo3000 @hhiggs @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @a-little-counter-esperanto

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagines #chris evans smut #chris evans x plus size reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x black reader

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levi-akerman248 · 3 years

Text

I love you

Levi x male reader

Summary: Levi and his boyfriend(Y/n)have naturally fell into a day to day routine with each other. But one bad day and a lack of filter causes utter agony in Levi’s already sorrowful life. Leaving him with regrets.

Warning: angst, eventual character death

Note: sorry, I felt like crying today. 🥲

Part 1

“Leviiiiiii~”

The cheerful singing of his name woke Levi up from his slumber

He opened his eyes and was met with the bright (e/c) eyes of his lover

His lips curl slightly into his version of a smile and he grumbles out a “good morning”

(Y/n) smiles, hovering over his sleepy boyfriend who has yet to get out of bed

He leans down and kisses Levi’s cheek, “Good morning love, you have a meeting you need to get ready for.”

Levi rolls his eyes and ever so slightly pouts, he hated meetings. Especially in the morning. But never the less he begrudgingly got up to start the day, not forgetting to give his grinning lover a goodbye kiss on his way out.

...

One very long and very boring meeting later, Levi walked down the hallway to (Y/n)’s office. He always feels so drained after meetings and just wants so sit on his boyfriends lap and cuddle.

Not that he’d ever admit that.

He knocked on the door and heard the gentle “Come in.” Echo from within.

(Y/n) looked up at who entered and when he saw his baby boy looking like a kicked puppy he knew what was up

While Levi really wants cuddles, he could never initiate it so (Y/n) always finds a way to make Levi think the cuddle session was something he needed and not Levi.

“Hello love, you’re here just in time. This paper work was starting to give me a headache, I could really use a cuddle.”

He smiled up at Levi who was now standing in front of his office chair, looking down at him (for once)

Rolling his eyes, Levi huffed.

“Maybe I don’t want to cuddle.”

(Y/n) new this was a giant lie and horrible attempt at Levi keeping his reputation in check

(Y/n) pouted up at levi with his arms out, “Please love, I really need it.”

Levi gave out a dramatic huff and practically jumped into (Y/n)’s lap

“Fine, but only for a minute brat.”

They both knew he wouldn’t leave his lap until dinner but that was alright.

...

Dinner came and went, they both sat at the upper command table and ate their food. Levi giving what he couldn’t eat to (Y/n) who ate it without trouble. Hange rambled about their day and before they knew it, it was time for bed.

(Y/n) was just getting out of the shower and entering the bedroom where Levi was laying down with a book. He had already showered so he was just waiting for (y/n).

When he was dressed, (Y/n) realized Levi still hadn’t put his book down. Wanting some attention, he crawled onto the bed, wiggled his way onto Levi, and shoved his head under the book, gazing up into his lovers eyes

Levi gave him a little smirk, “Yes?”

(Y/n) pouted, “You’re more interested in that book then me”

Levi chuckled and rolled his eyes

They always did this. Levi would read a book in bed, (Y/n) would shove his head between Levi and the book, then claim Levi liked the book better then him. Knowing full well Levi would disagree and give him the attention he wanted.

It was a routine.

Levi tossed the book aside and ruffled his lovers hair, “You know that’s not true brat.”

(Y/n) buried his head into Levi’s stomach and grumbled,

“I was over there naked and you didn’t even glance at me”

“I’m looking at you now”

“Too late, I’m not naked anymore.”

Levi smirked, “you could be.”

(Y/n) raised his head and smirked back at his lover

And just like that, their night was sealed with kisses and moans. Much to the dismay of the other members who were trying to sleep.

...

“Leviiiiiii~”

Levi opened his eyes and looked at his lover who was way too hyper for 8am

Levi grumbled and tried to pull the blankets up over him but (Y/n) was pulling them back

“Come on love, the cadets with be up any minute awaiting their captains orders.”

“Those brats can wait until the rapture for all I care.”

(Y/n) chuckled and leaned down, kissing his grumpy lovers neck in hopes to coerce them into getting up

“Come on baby, it wouldn’t be good for their captain to be the one running late now would it?”

“Then why don’t you go teach them, captain.”

(Y/n) shook his head with a smile,

“As much as I would love to take a load off your shoulders, it’s not allowed. They’re not my squad and I have lots of paperwork to do today.”

(Y/n) laid another kiss on Levi’s shoulder before getting up and pulling him along with

“Come on, I’ll make you some tea to drink when you’re done yeah?”

Levi sighed but got up, “Fine.”

Once he was ready, he headed out to the training field where he expected to see the brats already lined up and waiting but no one was there.

While he wasn’t late, Levi definitely wasn’t early. There should have been at least some of the brats here.

He inwardly groaned and headed to the bunkers to wake them all up.

‘This is gonna be a long day.’

...

Morning training was terrible.

Nothing went wrong per say, other then them being late, but it was just annoying Levi.

They had a mission TOMORROW and all of them were acting like it wasn’t a big deal.

It pissed Levi off, definitely not a great start to his day.

After ordering the brats to run extra laps for being late, and having Armin supervise, he headed down to (Y/n)’s office for a much needed cuddle.

But he was stopped on the way there by a cadet telling him that Erwin needed him for a meeting.

Levi wanted to just say, “Fuck no.” But he new that if Erwin needed him in the meeting, it must’ve been important.

Hours later and it was lunch. The meeting took way too long, he thought about seeing if (Y/n) was too busy to cuddle but after thinking about it, he concluded that he just wanted to be alone for a bit.

So he skipped lunch and went to his room, picked up his book, and continued where he left off

Not three pages in and a knock echos through the room

Levi contemplates not answering but the possibility of it being an emergency weighed too much for him to ignore

“What is it?”

“Uh sir? I-it’s Armin, um. Eren and Jean are fighting again and no one can get close enough to get them apart.”

Levi damn near threw his book onto the table before he stormed out of the room to handle the situation, nearly running over Armin in the process.

When he got to the lunch room, everyone had left except his squad whom were surrounding Eren and Jean fighting.

They were screaming in each other’s face, talking so fast even Levi couldn’t understand what was going on

And he didn’t care, he was pissed and just wanted some alone time

People backed out of Levi’s way as he stormed over to the two blabbering idiots

He grabbed both of them by their hair and slammed their heads together before throwing them apart

They rubbed their heads in pain, angry at whoever did that until they saw who it was

Seeing it was their captain, they both started trying to come up with an excuse, claiming it was the other who started it but Levi just held up his hand making them pause

Uncomfortable Silence rang through the room before Levi’s cold, menacing tone slithered into their ears.

“You two, clean this mess. The rest of you, to training. Now.”

They all scurried out like rats in a barn, aside from Eren and Jean who scrambled to grab the cleaning supplies and get started.

Levi stormed back to his room, grabbed his book and laid down.

Then another knock, “Sir? It’s time for training.”

‘Fucking hell.’

Part 2 is up

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #levi x male reader #levi aot

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flamencodiva · 3 years

Text

A Different League 1 - Walls

Description: Y/N never experienced the life of luxury. Being the daughter of a hunter never gave her that experience. But what happens when she finds a job working for one of the most prestigious hunting companies in the world?

Word Count: 1960

Beta: @wonder-cole

Warnings: Language, Violence, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Slow Burn (yes, that's a warning), Rivals to Idiots, Idiots to Lovers, Lovers to Idiots.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

<< Prologue

Code Red! Code Red!’

The red lights and alarm sounded throughout the building.

‘Level 10 monster detected.’

Y/N Y/L/N made her way through the hall towards the locker rooms to suit up. As usual, she was part of the ground team, which did all the messy work when hunting monsters for Hunter Corp.

Marching down the hallway, she made her way to the briefing room, grabbing the folder handed to her and reading it right away.

“Think this is the one?” Benny asked, standing by her with his folder.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “don’t know. Maybe it is. But according to the data recon has gathered, not likely. If it’s a level ten, then--”

“It’s most likely an Alpha monster,” Ketch interrupted. “Y/N, darling, when are you going to take me up on that offer to wine and dine you?” he asked, trying to flirt with the huntress.

“When hell freezes over, Arthur,” she sighed, “I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again, my focus is on work, not my--”

“Libido,” Benny and Ketch echoed with matching smiles.

“We know, Cher,” Benny chuckled, “then again I did see you eyeing--”

“You say it, and I hog tie you and castrate you,” Y/N growled, “I lived on a ranch for a good amount of years while dad was taking care of a pack. Don’t think I won’t do it, Benjamin.”

Benny lifted his hands in surrender and chuckled, walking toward his seat on the conference table. Other squad leaders filtered in as they were ready to talk about the Level 10 monster that had appeared. This included the two sons of the CEO, the eldest of the two, Dean, taking a seat next to Y/N.

“Units 1 and 2, you will take the lead on this, “ John Winchester said as he walked into the room, taking a seat at the head of the table. “These two units will oversee operations and capture. I will repeat that,” he said, looking at each unit leader in turn, “capture the target. Our goal is to learn as much as we can before eradicating their species.”

“Do we have the special equipment that I had made for occasions like this?” Y/N asked as she flipped through the different pages, analyzing the data collected. “Do we also know what kind of Alpha we’re dealing with?”

“As of right now, we just know it’s an Alpha. I’m waiting on relay team Gamma to get back with the complete analysis,” John announced, impressed with his top hunter. “But I do want my best teams there in case something goes wrong.”

Y/N simply hummed as she let her mind process the strategy the boss set up. Her boss wasn’t wrong. Her squad, along with Snob, as she liked to call Dean, would be a formidable force. That is if he wasn’t trying to talk about his exploits on a private jet.

No matter where they were, he always had some way of interjecting how nice it is to have money and experience things. Y/N has never had the pleasure of doing. Sure she had the money to do those things now, but she never saw the big deal. It only spurred her annoyance at Snob when he would try to make conversation with her. They had nothing in common, yet he continued to try to talk to her while she ignored him.

After the meeting ended, Y/N made her way back to her room. She was the only one of the squad leaders not to have a place of her own. It was something that didn’t go unnoticed by the other leaders, especially John. Y/N would brush off the comments of her not having a place to unwind away from work. In all honesty, she didn’t know what else to do. She grew up hunting, and she figured living in the facility would give her faster reaction time to save more lives.

As she packed her things, she could feel a pair of eyes on her.

“What do you want?” she called out, never facing the person who stood at her doorway.

“I was wondering--”

“No, Dean. I will not go to whatever fancy place you want to take me to,” she sighed, moving around her room to collect what she would think she would need.

“I’m not, Ketch,” Dean grumbled, “And I know for a fact that you barely leave the compound. You don’t even have your own place.”

“Why do you care, Snob,” she hissed at him. “To someone like you, I’m just a worker. Why do you care that I live in the compound?”

“If this is about the gala, I already apologized,” Dean whined, “What more do you want from me?”

“To let me do my job,” Y/N huffed, slinging her bag over her shoulder and pushing past him, “and right now, my job is to make sure we know what we are dealing with before we go in blind and kill good hunters on a hunch.”

“The recon team--”

“Has been wrong before,” she pointed out, “Your brother has been wrong before and at my expense!”

“Samuel would never-” Dean began.

“He has, and he did, Dean,” she argued. “That scar on my back was not because I thought it would be fun to ignore that there was another Rugaru.”

She glared at him, “It was because I was told by your brother that there was only one when there were, in fact, three of them.”

Dean stayed silent as she walked away from him and towards the garage. Never in his life had a woman angered and enamored him before. The minute he had laid eyes on Y/N three years ago at the gala, he could feel his heart pound in his chest. His insecurities had gotten the better of him, and he had to play the millionaire asshole. When she didn’t bow down to his charm, he was intrigued.

After a year of training, moving up the ranks, and being her partner, Dean learned that Y/N was all business. Not like any of the girls he ever dated or bedded. Y/N had a drive, but what it was, she wouldn’t say. Y/N began to distance herself more from him for every case they had, only communicating if it had to do with the hunt and to turn down his invitations.

Dean made it to his dorm with a deep sigh and began packing his things, hoping he could try to break through the walls Y/N built with this hunt.

Looking at her watch, Y/N wondered where Charlie was? Usually, Charlie would be her research partner on cases like these. Well, Charlie is always her choice as a research partner. The woman was a genius when it came to technology and making her way into security footage to search for monsters.

Y/N didn’t notice as Charlie walked up behind her. Most of Y/N’s attention was on the recon folder. She was trying to assess what the team had found.

“You know,” Charlie said as she approached Y/N, “You’re really taking this not thinking with your libido thing a bit too far.”

“I am focused on my work,” Y/N replied, never taking her eyes off the file. “I have a feeling we’re dealing with a Shifter-Alpha.”

“What gives you that idea?” Charlie asked as she sat down next to Y/N.

“It’s the fact that in every house reported, Mom and Dad are dead,” Y/N pointed out as she pushed the folder towards Charlie. “But the baby goes missing,” she pointed to the details in every story.

“Huh,” Charlie let out, tilting her head to the side as she looked over the notes, “I guess that means we’re heading out early?”

“No,” Y/N sighed, “going to talk to John first.”

“Really?” Charlie gasped, “you’re usually gung-ho about going when you have a hunch like this?”

“Okay, I’m a hunter, not suicidal,” Y/N drawled.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to point out the details in the story and voice her suspicions to John. Of course, when John agreed with her suspicions, he organized all quad leaders and put his plan in motion. Nearing the next house that Alpha would attack, Dean and Y/N placed themselves in charge of moving in to capture the monster.

‘Leader 1,’ came Dean’s voice through the walkie-talkie, ‘we have movement inside the house. I repeat, we have movement inside the house.’

“Copy that, Leader 2,” she responded before taking a breath, “Red-Recon, Red-Recon, what do we have on the video feed?”

‘Can’t I have a cooler nickname?’ Charlie whined through the intercom, ‘like Red Hawk!’

Y/N rolled her eyes, letting out a chuckle before responding, “Okay, Red Hawk, can you just tell me what the video feed shows?”

‘You were right, Leader 1,’ Charlie confirmed, ‘glowing eyes in the feed. We’re dealing with a nest of shifters. We also are seeing a large nursery through the micro-cam footage.’

“Shit,” Y/N cursed, “we might need to abort and come up with--”

‘You are going to do nothing of the sort, Leader 1,’ Samuel’s voice came through, ‘we’re here to do a job. We will kill every last one of them if we have to.’

“Samuel, there are kids in there. No matter what the species, kids are kids!” Y/N argued.

‘That’s Recon-Leader to you, Leader 1,’ he barked.

‘Recon-leader,’ Dean’s voice came through, ‘I agree with Leader 1. We are only here for the Alpha. We need this to be a quick and clean operation.’

“I don’t need your help, Leader 2,” Y/N growled. “If Recon-Leader wants us to go through the paperwork explaining why the squads changed Leader Prime’s plan, he can do it himself.”

‘What are we going to do, Leaders 1 and 2?’

Y/N closed her eyes, knowing full well the consequences of her actions, “we are going to go as planned, capture the Alpha, take down as many shifters as you can.”

‘Y/N,’ Dean called over the com, ‘I think your instincts were--’

“I’ll deal with the fucking consequences,” she called back, “we move on my mark.”

To say the operation was easy was a big fat fucking lie. Just as Y/N predicted, getting to the Alpha with all the other Shifters in their way was a challenge. So much so that they had to call Squads 3 and 4 for backup. It took longer than it should have for the team to capture the Alpha, and that was after Y/N was full of bruises and deep scratches. The nursery with the children was empty when they searched it. Some Shifters made it out with the abrupt change in plans, while others were killed trying to let them escape.

Once Y/N was patched up, she prepared herself for the yelling she knew John would give her. Even if they got the Alpha, the method they used almost cost the lives of good hunters. Y/N had made sure to try and save as many hunters from death as she could.

“Y/N!” she heard as she walked out of the medical tent.

Rolling her eyes, she turned away from Dean, who was jogging towards her.

“Thanks, Jess,” she called to the doctor on staff that stitched her up.

“Damn it, Y/N. Please wait!” Dean called out to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I talked to Samuel and--”

“Save it, Snob,” Y/N growled. “I am going to head to my room in the hotel and write up the report. Don’t worry about Douchebag. I will take all the heat on this.”

“Why do you do that?” Dean growled, “Why can’t you let me tell Dad about--”

“Leader Prime,” Y/N barked, “when we are on the job, you address him by his title.”

Dean let out an audible groan, “can you take the stick out of your ass for just one fucking minute!”

Y/N turned to glare at him, “what could you possibly say to me? That you’re going to use your privilege to get Daddy not to punish me because your brother was being an ass? Please spare me. I’m used to this. You and Samuel get away with everything while the rest of us have to struggle!”

“You are such a bitch, Y/L/N. No wonder people don’t want to hang around you,” Dean spat, his eyes widening at the realization of what he said. “Y/N I’m--”

“At least people don’t hang around me for my money,” she spat, “leave me alone. Why are you even talking to me, Snob? We have nothing in common, you live in an ivory tower, and I live in the mud. You stay with your people, and I’ll stay with mine.”

Dean watched her walk away, unsure what to say or how to fix what he did. He hated himself for the way things went down. Dean should have talked to Samuel about his behavior, but Samuel was just as stubborn and headstrong as their father. Dean knew he could only do one thing, and that was talking to his father about what happened, whether Y/N liked it or not.

Dean stayed silent as he contemplated how to fix things with Y/N.ht--’

“I don’t care what Samuel says. The operation could have gone smoother if he had just listened to Y/N. You can’t fire her--”

‘Calm down, son. No one is getting fired. Especially not my best hunter,’ John interrupted. ‘Now, calmly, tell me what happened.’

Dean began at the beginning, telling his father all about how there were more Shifters than just the Alpha and how Y/N wanted to re-adjust the plan to lessen any casualties. As Dean continued to recount the tale, he never noticed Samuel walking in. The younger brother crossed his arms, scowling at his older brother.

“Yes, sir,” Dean said before hanging up the phone.

“You called, Dad?” Samuel let out, making Dean jump.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that, Samuel,” He scolded.

“Don’t, Dean,” Samuel huffed, “You called to tattle on me? You know as well as I do that you should be Leader 1 no matter what a stupid test said all those years ago.”

“Is that what this is about? Is that why you have this grudge against Y/N?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

“She is nothing but a--”

“Don’t say it, Samuel,” Dean growled.

“A second-rate hunter with no class,” Samuel continued, towering over his older brother. “You need to forget about her, Dean, and learn to take her position from her.” he let out a huff, “besides, she dresses in nothing but second-hand clothing. Does she even know what designer clothing is? Does she even care about the clothes that she wears and how she presents herself?”

“Samuel, her choice in clothing doesn’t mean she is incapable of being a good Leader. Besides, what she wears is her business. And what good would taking the position from her by force do? How would being Leader 1 make me any more capable of running the company?” Dean crossed his arms, staring right into his brother’s eyes.

“For one, it would show Dad that you have the skills to lead,” Samuel huffed. “Y/N couldn’t even stand up to me after what I said. She could have tried harder to go over my head. She has no leadership skills.”

“No leadership skills?” Dean said, his voice rising in anger. “You call putting her life on the line to make sure no one dies, poor leadership skills?” Dean shook his head, giving his brother a disappointed look. “Do you realize that she didn’t go over your head because she feels you would use nepotism to get away with it?”

Samuel tilted his head in confusion, “what? Since when? I--”

“Dad spoils us, Samuel. You know he does, but it’s different in hunting and our lives, and Y/N doesn’t know that. She already thinks we’re pompous snobs.”

“So?” Samuel chuckled, “I love that we live a life of luxury. Someone like her is never going to understand us. Besides, why are you trying to get her approval?”

“I am not looking for her approval, but I am trying to establish a civil working relationship,” Dean said, turning away from Samuel.

“You had had eyes on her since the ball all those years ago,” Samuel chuckled, “‘if you want her that badly, woo her and leave her. Or you could take Bela Talbot on her offer.”

“Bela?” Dean shook his head in disgust, “she is nothing but a low-grade black market dealer. “

“One who has had her eyes on you for a while,” Samuel said, smiling slyly at his brother. “You don’t have to make a business deal with the woman, just bed her and be done with her. She also knows her way around good scotch. Let’s not forget that Bela also has better fashion sense than Y/N. ”

Dean contemplated the thought of having Bela in his bed. Bela had more than shown she wanted to lay with him, wanting to have Dean pleasure her in the ways he was taught. Shaking his head, Dean sat on the couch of the double room suite he shared with Samuel.

“I’d rather fuck a porcupine than Bela, Samuel,” Dean sighed, leaning back to place his hands over his face.

“Then at least go find a sweet lounge fly and bring her up to have your way with her,” Samuel said as he walked over to his bedroom, “I mean, we should put the skills Dad had us learn for a reason, right?”

Dean stayed silent as he contemplated how to fix things with Y/N.

Chapter 2

Tags in the Reblog

#A different League #AU Dean WInchester #Reader Insert #AU Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester Fic #Supernatural AU #Supernatural Fic #AU Sam Winchester #AU John Winchester #fan fiction #Angst #angst with a happy ending #Smut #Rivals to Idiots #Idiots to lovers #lovers to idiots #Violence #Language #slow burn

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potter-imagines · 4 years

Text

Library Confessions (George Weasley)

Summary: george fluff?? maybe like some sort of best friends to lovers kinda deal?

Notes: I've been wanting to write George for a while so I was excited to make this !! hope you enjoy x

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff

Word Count: 5.3k

It was a flurry and cold winter day, the kind of day when every breath stings the lungs and every exhale chills the lips. The frigid air, the slippery ground and the sheet of white covering the once green grass. All signs winter was here and cold times were ahead. Even in the highlands of Scotland, the winters were ferosus and unforgiving. Seeing as it was your seventh, and final, year at Hogwarts, most would assume you’d have adapted to the cold by now, but that wasn’t the case. Although as much as you despised the freezing temperature, the pulsating tick of your headache preferred the cold over the thunderous noise back inside.

The Gryffindor common room was too rambunctious- wild, uncontrolled for your desires tonight. It was Friday and tomorrow was the highly anticipated day trip to Hogsmeade. Students were understandable thrilled and you would have loved to join in, but the throbbing pain and stress of school on your shoulders masked your fun. The migraines were brought on by school, but also the idea that you would not get to join your friends tomorrow.

Your feet carried you further from the common room, the rowdy noise fading with every step. If the weight of homework wasn’t so heavy on your shoulders, the party would’ve been in your plans. You tried to stay as long as you could but after about twenty minutes, and three Weasley fireworks being set off, you decided a breath of fresh air sounded delightful.

Your best friends, Fred and George Weasley, were the cause of this chaos. They were fully sober yet drunk off the energy of the room. When you had left, Fred and Lee were orchestrating a tournament of pumpkin juice pong, and George was sitting on the scarlet couch talking to Harry, Ron and Hermione. His eyes darted to you every few seconds. Sometimes he would hold the gaze, or send you a wink, but most of the times he snapped his head back to the golden trio, pretending his attention was elsewhere.

It made your heart thump against the bones of your chest. You were sure if he had been sitting beside you he’d surely hear it, loud and clear. A deep pink blush spread across your cheeks at the thought of George. You had been close friends with the twins since you stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express and sat in the same cabinet as them. Through the years, the bond grew stronger yet developed differently with each twin. Fred was like an annoying, overbearing, proactive big brother and George, well, the affection you felt for George was not in a brotherly way.

Since your third year, you started noticing subtle things about him. Like how he arched his eyebrows when he spoke, or when he’d bite his lip when taking notes. He also had a tendency to eat his dessert first, if you got him laughing enough he’d accidentally let out a tiny snort and he always stood to your left when you walked to class together. When winter came, George was always shedding his clothes in order to keep you warm. Fred would complain that you knew it was snowing, therefore it’s your fault for being cold, but never George. Not to say that Fred is cruel, he can be a gentleman when he chooses but your relationship was more sibling bickering and competition. But George had always been a bit, sweeter than Fred.

Most wrote the twins off as one person but the differences between the twins was written out in neon signs, in your eyes. Maybe it was because you were closer to the twins than most, besides Lee. They were both your best friends, but they treated you in polar opposite ways. If Fred ever tried to cuddle you in his bed, you were sure you’d ‘Stupefy’ him into oblivion. When George did it, you could hardly croak a breath with all the rockets exploding in your heart.

The fragrance of frosted pine and butterscotch wafted through the nipping air as you approached the north entrance of the castle. Winter was finally here. The beauty of Hogwarts shined most bright during this time of the year. Snow crunched under the weight of your foot while you trudged through the courtyard taking advantage of the short cut. With the overwhelming school work piling by the second, slipping into the library didn’t seem like such a bad idea. You had two papers, a research project for Magical Creatures, and an exam in Potions. Not to mention you were expected to memorize and perfect a list of disarming and protection spells before Defense Against the Dark Arts by Tuesday.

Lost in your own stress, you hardly noticed your feet carrying you into the large doors of the library. The lighting was low and the attendance was even dimmer. A few Hufflepuffs and a handful of Ravenclaws were scattered around the room. Madam Pince nodded her head at your arrival then returned to her work behind the main desk.

Sliding into an empty table, you started to situate yourself. A stack of parchment was already waiting next to a clean quill and glass container of ink. It wasn’t hard to find the necessary textbooks and you returned back to your seat rather quickly.

A good twenty minutes had passed before your ears perked up at the sound of Madam Pince scolding a student. You didn’t have a clean view of her desk but you assumed a group had gotten too loud for her liking. Turning back to your book you faced away from the main entrance of the library. Eyes scanning the textbook, a new presence creeping up behind you went unnoticed. As you flipped to the next page in the advanced potions book, a grasp clamped down on either shoulder and a pair of lips hovered dangerously close to your ear. The unexpected warmth created a jolt on energy through your body. You practically flung out of your chair in surprise, whipping around to face your attacker. The initial glare and scowl soon washed away as your eyes met a familiar pair of warm, chocolate orbs.

George Weasley had a devilish grin, proudly basking in your shock. Not giving you a second to refuse his arrival, George pulled the wooden chair besides you out and sat in it. Throwing his arm across your shoulder, he smiled innocently at you.

“And what might you be doing in here on this eventful Friday evening, hm?”

Still reeling in shock, you placed your hand over your heart in hopes to calm down from the scare. Wildly glaring up at George, you yelled in a hush tone,

“George! You nearly gave me a heart attack- what’re you doing here?” You smacked his chest with a thud, though George remained unphased. His eyes squinted down at you while he shot back,

“Pretty sure I asked you first, love.” He said smugly. A large maroon and gold sweater adorned his frame, paired with dark washed jeans. You could smell the signature scent of pine and cinnamon that wafted wherever he followed. Folding your book on the table top, you glared playfully at the ginger.

“What else is there to do in a library besides studying?” The smart reply caused a twinkle in George’s eyes. You could practically see the gears turning as his witty side took control. His fingers tightened around the blades of your shoulder, dragging you a tad closer to him.

“Plenty of things-” An instant smack came as you knocked his side once more. George chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused by the flusterness taking over your features. Motioning towards the stack of parchment and mountain high pile of lengthy textbooks, you shook your head.

“I’ve got a lot of work due this coming week, so figured I’d get a head start.”

“Ah, you weren’t enjoying the party.” He declared knowingly. George typically never left your side during house parties. The anxiousness and suffocation of the noise that crept into your veins was always capped by the feeling of his arm around your shoulder protectively. Although tonight, George ran to the Golden Trio the moment the function began, leaving you alone in the corner with Dean and Seamus. You were friends with the boys but George was the only one who could make you feel relaxed and him being busy, escaping the party seemed like the best option.

Leaning into your chair, a heavy sigh fell from your parted lips at the recollection of tonight. “Not really I suppose. I don’t know… not in the partying mood tonight.” You admitted softly. George’s face furrowed immediately, concerned painting his features boldly. The dim lighting of the library all but hid the gleam of worry in his eyes.

“What’s got you stressed, darling?”

Scoffing at the question you picked up your book and started flipping through the pages again. For starters, you couldn’t decide where was the best place to start when it came to all your worries. There was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who returned last school year, the fact that the twins were planning on leaving early to open their shop (which they asked you to help run once you finished with school), home stress, school work, your feelings for George, trying to figure out your plans for after Hogwarts, and so much more. The weight of the world was crashing down on you and for the first time, you felt like allowing it to crumble you.

“You mean besides the school work I’m drowning in and the ever looming fear of being murdered by the Dark Lord himself? Eh, not much.” The sarcastic reply was all too familiar to George. Having spent the last seven years glued to your side, he started to pick up on your antics. Like your constant need to use sarcasm to hide your genuine fears. He studied you for a moment, searching for any hint on what really had you worked up.

Reaching his hand out, George plucked the potions book from your hands and started surveying it. He tilted the book upside down, pretending to read the text. Scrunching his brows, the fiery twin feigned comprehension of the material, a small ‘oohh’ and ‘hm’ falling from his lips as he did so. His silly antics caused you to giggle as he threw the book back to the table.

“Why’re you doing homework on a Friday night, anyhow? You’ve got all tomorrow morning and all day Sunday for that!”

“Technically have all day tomorrow as well-” George stopped you short as he cut into the conversation stubbornly.

“No, we’re all going to Hogsmeade and I already claimed your spot next to me at The Three Broomsticks!” He resembled a pouty child as he huffed besides you. Flipping the page of your textbook, your mouth bunched in the corner, guilt entering your bloodstream.

“I’m really sorry, Georgie. If my grades slip any further- my mum’ll have my head on a stick! Besides, I didn’t figure it would be that big of a deal, everyone else is going so I’m sure my absence will not be noticed.” Your laugh was meant to cover the tang of honest hurt, although you hoped it would slip past him. Of course, George noticed everything when it came to you and seeing you down was definitely not something he felt okay with ignoring.

“But I’ll notice- just like I did tonight.” He added with a point of the finger. It was true, George always seemed to notice when you were missing. He also always seemed to know where you were when you did sneak away.

“Thanks…” Trailing off, you glanced over to George. The honey like orbs were already examining your features. You assumed he must’ve picked up on the sadness dripping through your pores because the next thing you knew, George was offering up his entire Saturday.

“You want me to stay back with you?” Your head snapped in his direction immediately. With a bugged stare, you shook your head feverishly.

“What- no! You and Fred practically countdown the days until we get to go to Hogsmeade. I know how bad you wanna go, don’t skip out ‘cause of me.”

“We do have another trip next month so I can just wait to go until then. I’m sure Hogsmeade will still be flourishing by then. C’mon, you know you want me to stay back. You’ll bore yourself to death without me around!”

“You’d just be staying back because you feel bad-” George interrupted you, face reading bewilderment at your accusation.

“No, I’d be staying back because I want to. Y/n, when have I ever hung out with someone I don't want to be around- besides Percy seeing as I’m obligated to share a home with him. I want to spend time with you, that’s why I look forward to Hogsmeade trips. Get to spend time with you outside of the castle. So if you’re not there, I’m just gonna be miserable, love. Which means, I better just stay back with you.” A mischievous smirk rose to his lips as he finished his spiel, crossing his arms across his chest. The material of his sweater bunched around his fold and you admired Molly’s handiwork. Pressing your finger into his chest, you gave George a playful shove. He reached out for the table top to sturdy himself as he chuckled. Batting your lashes you teasingly cooed,

“Sounds like someone can’t get enough of me.” Not missing a beat, George rested his elbow on the tabletop. His chin was planted in his palm as he leered dreamily.

“Thought we already established that.” He winked over to you. Lifting up your heavy book, you sheltered your blushing cheeks behind the pages. Your forehead pressed deeply into the pages as you folded the covers around your heated face.

“You joke too much.” Mumbling into the book, you were taken aback when a hand abruptly snatched the book from your fingertips. You watched as the book went above your head, then settled in George’s hand. He snapped the cover shut between his hands, an echoing ‘snap’ invading the library. The peppermint lingering on his breath smacked against your lips. George ran his finger over the title page, then tossed it to the side. As the book slammed on the counter, he turned his head back to you.

“Never about my feelings towards you, though.” He stated seriously. Your brows pulled together in a stern line.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your furrowed gaze rested heavily upon him.

“I just… really like spending time with you. Like just the two of us.” As he finished speaking, you watched cautiously as George’s hand sneaked over to land on top of yours. His palm was warm on top of yours. After a few seconds, he flipped your hand over so it was set inside his. That comfort feeling bursted in your chest under the weight of his eyes. It was funny how the simplest of actions from him could cause a firework extravaganza in your chest. The tension in your throat was increasing.

“I do, too, Georgie. You’re very sweet.” You smiled awkwardly, the bashfulness overcoming every cell in your body. When Fred complimented you or was too kind, it made you suspicious. Usually he buttered you up before a prank, so you never fully trusted his words but George? George was too gentle to ever set you up or put you in harms way.

“Y/n… there was actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you- well something I was gonna ask you tomorrow but seeing as you’re not going, might as well as you now.” The mumble was a notch above audible. You watched on as he fumbled with his hands, twiddling his thumbs nervously. His anxiousness was contagious as you soon felt uneasy as well. Your mind raced in worry as you wondered what was clouding his mind. As if it was second nature, your hand moved out in reaction to his worrisome state to snake his hand into your own. Softening your piercing stare, you squeezed his hand tightly.

“What’s wrong, George?”

His attention was shifted to your locked hands. It wasn’t the first time you held his hand, although it was the first time you were knocked off balance by the wave of electricity streaming down your spine from the touch. Based on his reaction, you figured George felt it too.

“Uh, would you ever want to, like, go on a date? I um, I’ve really liked you for quite some time now and I keep trying to ask you but I get nervous cause… I just needed to tell you myself before Fred does it for me.”

“Tell me now if this is a prank, George Weasley.” The sternness in your voice was something George only heard on occasion. He knew not to joke when it came to your heart so he was taken aback by your words, though understood why. You saw the confusion stirring in his brain before he settled your worries.

“It’s not a prank, love, I swear on my life. I would never lie about my feelings, that I can promise.”

“Tomorrow?” You looked up, eyes peeking over to your side. George had hardly moved and stared blankly at you. It was if his brain had hit a wall and was lagging in processing. The candle on the table flickered, orange and red shadows flashing across his face. Even in the shadows the razor sharp edges of his jaw and cheekbones popped.

“Huh?” He croaked.

Catching a Weasley twin off guard was not a common thing and George appeared baffled. Hands folded in your lap, you could feel the small shake to his grasp. In an odd way, you felt a surge of confidence knowing you had the power to make George blush. Tightening your hand around his own, you roamed the pad of your thumb across his knuckles.

“Could we go on a date tomorrow? After I finished at least two of my papers- could we go on a date then?” It was hard to shake the electric shock tingling through your bones. Never before had you basked in eyes as beautiful as his. His eyes reminded you of a pool of whiskey and shades of chestnut. When the light flashed, a honey, caramel tint soaked his orbs. Simply calling them ‘brown’ eyes did no justice.

Your voice brought a large smile to George’s lips like he won the lottery. The glistening gleam brighten the dim corner of the library. You could feel your breathing become inconsistent once again at the sight. Nodding his head, you watched with a smile as his sandy, ginger hair danced in tune.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Does uh, does that mean you like me too?”

Leaning back in your seat, you started to think back on all your years at Hogwarts. There wasn’t an exact moment you fell for him- it didn’t happen all at once. It was born as a crush, your heart leaping at the sight of the handsome boy your first year. When you started hanging out with the twins, you immediately grew close with them by the third week. Since then, you only got closer with the twins although it was undeniable that there was always a more intense gravitational pull you felt towards George. Not that Fred hadn’t pointed out the obvious connection between his twin and you numerous times. He enjoyed harassing George and yourself a bit too much.

Shrugging your shoulder in uncertainty, you admitted,

“Honestly it’s been so long I can’t remember when I first started liking you. I mean I’ve had a crush on you since first year and… I’ve always found you to be the funniest, most handsome guy I’ve ever met.” You paused your word vomit to take in George’s expression for a sign. Glancing up, you noticed he was far closer to you than he was before. The tip of his nose faintly brushing against your own. Your eyes enlarged in seconds at the lack of space between you two. “What’re you doing?”

A gulp echoed through George. His teeth dug into the skin of his bottom lip, tugging at the skin in an attempt to calm his nerves. You viewed in curiosity as his eyes darted from your lips, to your eyes, then to the floor, then back to your lips again. Your suspicions were confirmed as George locked his peer into your own. His face read seriousness as he asked you gravely,

“Are you going to slap me if I kiss you? I’ve seen you knock the daylights out of Fred for trying to. Mum says you need to take a girl out before you kiss ‘em for real so I wanna do it somewhat right. Y’know, be a gentleman and such.”

Your cheeks flared red instantly, eyes planted to the floor. George had always been sweet but you never expected him to be this sweet. There was nothing more in the world that you desired than finally getting to kiss George Weasley, but it was an incredible kind of him to take your own feelings into thought before acting. You pressed your lips together tightly, exceeding all your effort into suppressing the bashful smile threatening to breakthrough. It took everything inside to contain your excitement and nerves at his proposal.

George broke your messy train of thought as the sensation of his hand against your skin registered. His slim fingers brushed a strand of hair back behind your ear, then wrapped around the side of your cheek. Like two magnets matching up, you melted into his touch. Finally drawing your gaze back up, you placed the palm of your hand against George’s chest, grasping a light fist of his sweater for stability. The height difference wasn’t immense, but enough that you needed some sort of control to keep on your feet.

“How proper of you, Mr. Weasley. Yes, I would really like that.”

Leaning into his hand, you met George’s gaze as you slowly moved towards each other. Meeting in the middle, you were nearly knocked off your feet by the force of his embrace. Your lips connected like a perfectly mapped constellation. His kiss was warm and fulfilling, yet constantly left you wanting more. It was undeniable he had practice before, his lips moved far too calm for this to be his first.

You practically melted in his arms, kissing him softly. Your lips danced for a moment until you steadied your hand on his cheek, holding his face. You needed that sense of control, wanted to feel the hold you had under George. Taking the first leap, you dragged your wet tongue along the smoothness of his bottom lip. A tiny, almost inaudible groan fell from his mouth. You deepended the embrace momentarily, then pulled away to press one lasting kiss to his puckered lips. George giggled in reaction, a cherry red blush painting his cheeks.

“You’re adorable.” George ‘booped’ the tip of your nose when he finished speaking. You laughed at his action then extending your finger, you placed a similar tap to his nose and teased him,

“Stop talking about yourself, George.” Although before you could fully retreat your hand, George’s own wrapped around your fingers. In one swift motion he lifted your hand to his face, then pressed his lips to the back of your hand. As he raised his head, his arm was quick to wrap around your shoulder, jerking your chair towards George as a result. His fingers clutched your upper arm loving.

That smug smile was plastered across his face again, pleasantly pleased with the peach glow tinting your cheeks. Feeling the heat rising you dove to cover your cheeks in the sleeves of his sweater. George accepted your full embrace, arms moving to circle your body entirely. Suddenly a light bulb popped in his mind as he released his grip slightly to glance down at you.

“Maybe if I help you with some of your paper tonight, we’ll have more time for our date tomorrow!” The excitement in his voice was by far the sweetest sound you’d heard. You smiled back at him and nodded in agreement.

“Sure but I do the writing- I don’t trust you enough for that. Your handwriting resembles that of a child.” You laughed at your own jab while George gave you a deadpan look, clearly unable to form a comeback. He’d say so himself that his print was what the Muggles would call ‘chicken scratch’, a phrase you taught George. When George first learned to write with a quill and ink, he had a tendency to smear the ink a smudge as he scribbled away faster than the speed of light. Molly would scold George as the side of his hand would be stained a deep black shade and his paper was hardly legible.

“Rude but, understandable.” George commented. It was sweet of him, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he truly wanted to spend his Friday night stuck in the library. Raising your eyebrow to the boy, you gave him a questionable look.

“Wait, don’t you have a party you should be getting back to?” Arm still enclosed around your frame, George gave you a squeeze. A mischievous smirk now covered his lips as he confessed the truth.

“What do you mean? I only threw that party with Fred so I could spend the night around you- maybe impress you with my wicked dance moves.”

Giving him a pointed look, your chest erupted with a fit of giggles. A memory popped into your mind of the first time you got the chance to view a drunk George Weasley putting on a ‘show’ for you. Sober George was a decent dancer but drunk George was on a different level of skill. The liquid courage had left George regretting a lot of nights and quite a bit of scenarios that came as a result.

Although dancing drunk with you was never a regret of his. Especially when the two of you went to the Yule Ball together as ‘friends’. Mummers followed your every move as you waltzed with George, students gossiping about George and yourself. Not that you paid attention to anyone but George- there wasn’t a chance given to! You didn’t spend a single second resting on your feet as George had you dancing until the band was packing up. He spun, twisted, lifted, and twirling you all night long. When a slow song finally came on, the prankster king put his gentleman side on full display. It was by far one of the best nights of your life, one you still had yet to stop daydreaming over. Poking his side, you smirked teasingly at the boy.

“Georgie, darling, I’ve seen them before. You’d have a better chance sending yourself to the infirmary than impressing me with your ‘moves’. I haven’t forgotten the Yule Ball last year. My head was spinning for a month!” You laughed together at the reminiscence. George was just as mesmerized by the night as you, maybe a tad more so. For those few hours of pure bliss, George had never felt more complete. Seeing you all dressed up and glowing from head to toe- the image was captured in his mind forever. He never understood the term ‘speechless’ until he saw you walking down the stairs in search of him. He replayed that moment over and over again for a year now. Rubbing your shoulders lovingly, George leaned his head on top of yours.

“Aw, c’mon! You loved it! Twirling around like a beautiful ballerina in your dress. You looked breathtaking- everyone was staring at you. Can’t blame them, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you either.” His words made your insides feel fuzzy, kinda like the sleeve of his sweater. That of which your fingers were absentmindedly petting. George smiled down at the quirk, he loved every antic of yours.

Shaking your head, you pulled the book back that George had discarded. After all, you still had a stack of unwritten essays to get working on. You popped open the top of the ink container. George unraveled his arm from your shoulder to wrap lightly around your waist.

“Stop making me blush.” Crimson flooded your s/c cheeks, far too flustered to meet George’s eyes. That confidence from early had flown away just as sudden as it came. A sprout of warmth came as George’s finger pressed against the side of your jaw, turning your face. Sweetly, and silently, he requested your gaze to which you obliged.

“But you look so beautiful when you do, darling. Now stop distracting me- we have a paper to write, in case you’ve forgotten, love.” His lips darted forward and soon enough, his enticing lips kissed your reddening cheeks. George smirked teasingly, reaching the feathered quill out to brush against your nose. You lightly smacked it away, giggling at him as you did.

“You’re the one distracting me-” The squeal was silenced by George as he pretended to ignore your words as he continued to tease you. Pressing his finger against your lips, George purred,

“Hush, we’ve got work to do so I can take you out tomorrow, love.”

“Fine but don’t forget Georgie, I’m doing the writing.” Narrowing your playful glare, you spoke sternly. It was a sort of game you played- going back and forth with one another. Although finally that teasing crossed the line of flirting to something real. In a way, it almost felt fake. Like all those years of waiting hadn’t really paid off, you were just asleep in your dorm room, dreaming this all up.

The touch of George’s arm leaving your waist cold was enough to question; however the radiating sensation of his hand slipping into yours was confirmation it was real. The chaste kiss he left on the back on your hand still buzzed. Despite the lack of lighting, every handsome feature was distinct from his blazing locks to the scatter of freckles dotting his face. Giving you a sly wink George flirted,

“Ah, I love a woman who takes control.”

For the next hour and a half, far in the corner, behind rows of bookshelves and torches to light to way, George and yourself attempted to write your essay. The first hour consisted of stolen kisses, stolen looks, and George constantly stealing your book from your hands. He made it nearly impossible to the point you threatened to cancel your study date, which shaped him up immediately.

The last half and hour George read to you different pages from your stack of books until you got a good jump on the paper. You were feeling hopeful until Madam Pince had announced the library would be closing for the night. In a matter of seconds, George’s hand was clamped around your wrist, attempting to drag you out. You managed to scoop your school supplies together and tuck them away in your bag before allowing him to escort you back to the common room. You just hoped your study date tomorrow would consist of some actual study. If not, it’s a good thing you have all of Sunday.

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