#misses the point entirely. of course people deserve better. but these are the circumstances we have as workers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrwinterr · 3 years

Text

Over & Over

Pairing: Pornstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Pornstar!Female Reader

Summary: You’re an up-and-coming adult film star secretly eager to work with the popular Bucky Barnes, and with just the right connections, your paths cross much sooner than later.

Warnings: Adult themes. Smut 18+ (unprotected sex, vaginal penetration and instructional fingering, oral [male & female receiving], size kink, spit & cum play, a smudge of male dominance), dirty talk and language.

Disclaimer: I don’t know how the porn industry works; this was just written for fun.

Title Inspiration: “Over & Over” by Smallpools

A/N: After doping up on strong painkillers wasn’t enough, I thought releasing endorphins would help ease my headache, so once again watching porn inspired another fic. Idk. I’m a mess. Enjoy!

Slipping on your oversized sunglasses, you walk along the rectangular outline of the hotel’s lavish pool, to one of the vacant lounge chairs next to the redheaded goddess, whose wings you were taken under and could gratefully call a close friend. You hadn’t known a single soul when you packed up and moved west to Los Angeles at 18, but you knew you were destined for more than what your humdrum life back at home could offer.

The porn industry wasn’t your first choice at a career in entertainment, but the starving profession wasn’t paying the bills fast enough. You weren’t going to survive in L.A. another year juggling to pay for tuition and stay enrolled in acting school from the income of working menial jobs and booking small gigs. However, one minor role as an extra in a one-night stand sex scene of a TV show, you catch the eye of the multitalented adult film actress Natasha Romanoff.

It was pure coincidence she was also casted, playing a bigger role, of the same episode, but she saw more in you in your less than 15 seconds of fame than most casting agents did before offering you a chance to shadow her. You knew she looked familiar and you were no stranger to watching porn, but when you’re as down on your luck as you were, you went all in and soon enough countless scenes now under your belt within a year, you’re porn’s best female newcomer.

“There’s this year’s Best New Starlet!” Natasha proclaims loudly for almost everyone around to hear.

Lucky for you, the shades conceal the roll of your eyes at her comment as you kick off your flip-flops and remove the thin cover up to reveal your skimpy bikini. You dare look over at her in time to catch her mocking reaction, jaw dropped from your attitude.

“After all I’ve done for you,” she says, placing a hand to her heart, feigning hurt.

The pair of you laugh at your nonsense and after she helps you with applying the appropriate amount of sun care protection, you recline in your seats and attempt to soak up some sun. It was a much-needed break with the long stressful week of the award show now behind everyone. Your hard work had paid off and after all you did learn from the best.

Your predecessor before you, Natasha was also a former Best New Starlet, and now is a household name in pornography. She didn’t welcome a lot of people into her inner circle, but she had plans to one day direct and knew she had to find the next big thing before anyone else to take her place.

“Hello, ladies,” comes from the voice of this year’s Director of the Year and other close friend Wanda Maximoff.

“Hey Wanda,” you greet her by sitting up to give her a proper hug.

You met her through her twin brother, Pietro, who happened to be your first co-star and was very welcoming and caring to you. The twins took care of you during your first few months starting out. Much like Natasha did for you, you help her administer the same amount of sunscreen on her body.

“Congrats on your achievement,” she says wholeheartedly, looking over her shoulder at you as you finish up on her back, and even under the heat of the sun, she could still see the blush creep up on your face.

“She’s a natural, isn’t she?” Natasha comments casually, to which Wanda nods enthusiastically, only speeding up the process of the rose tints on your cheeks to spread all over your face. They were your biggest fans and supporters; you were so happy you could make them proud.

“I owe it all to the queen herself,” you say, downplaying your achievement and turning the attention to your mentor in Natasha. She scoffs at that and teases you about just taking the damn compliment. You put in the work; it was all you.

“Seriously, you deserved it,” Wanda says honestly, and you finally accept the praise.

“So, what’s next for miss Director of the Year?” Natasha asks leaning on a propped elbow, body facing towards you and Wanda.

“Well, I managed to finally book Bucky Barnes in an upcoming project…” she starts out, but the moment you heard his name slip from her lips, the rest almost didn’t matter.

Bucky Barnes was somewhat of a legend. There wasn’t a model or director that didn’t want to work with him. The man was downright gifted in every aspect and his work speaks for itself. Before you broke onto the scene, you’d gotten off to his videos, and only dreamed of one day starring in a scene with him, but you were still new to this world.

As a promising star, you had a long way to go and tons of plots, positions and people to still experience, so landing a role with someone like Bucky Barnes wasn’t entirely written in your plans any time soon. Then again, your first girl-on-girl scene was with your mentor herself, so anything could happen, right?

“I just haven’t found my girl yet,” was the next thing you pick up Wanda say the moment your head comes back from the clouds, “...I have all this momentum now that I want this to blow everyone away, especially Stark.”

Tony Stark was her rival. It was a friendly competition amongst friends. You hadn’t gotten the chance to work for him yet. He was a playful character and had directed some of the best adult films out there, Wanda just happened to be the better of the two this year…

“Sorry, I’m retired,” Natasha reminds her and repositions herself on her back.

“Fuck you,” Wanda says playfully to which Natasha responds with a finger in the air before she clarifies, “I was hinting at this year’s Best New Starlet…” and slyly looking in your directly.

“Me?” You ask incredulously. Your head can’t even start processing that you’re finally getting the opportunity to work with Bucky.

Wanda rolls her eyes at your obliviousness, “no, last year’s Best New Starlet. Hell no! Of course, you!” You respond in the same manner as your mentor, who is more than amused at you also following her lead, and flip Wanda off. Wanda snatches your hand to bring it away from her face, “I’m serious!”

“I-I don’t know, Wan,” a part of you is a little scared that you’re not going to be able to keep up with someone as established and with the star power as Bucky, “...like you said, you have all this momentum behind you. I don’t want to fuck this scene up because I don’t have a lot of experience.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Natasha pipes up on the other side of you. “This is the perfect role for you!” She sees the questionable look on your face and sighs before explaining. “You’re a fresh face and rising star! People are lining up to book you, Stark included.”

“Nat is right. You’re a hot commodity now! I need someone who is a little inexperienced to mix with someone that is,” Wanda further explains her premise, “let him take the lead, but at your pace. I need it to be raw and passionate. People love that shit!” They were right, he had all the experience, and you were a fresh loveable face. It was the perfect combination.

You remain quiet for several seconds before Natasha rats you out, “and don’t even try to act like you don’t want to work with Barnes. This is your fantasy come to life.” Way to throw you under the bus like that…

There’s no denying your goal to work with him. He’d been in this business much longer than you had, you didn’t think your paths would ever cross on a set, but the opportunity couldn’t have presented itself in a more perfect point in your career.

The room is very pristine. White walls with a king size bed, also adorned in white sheets, fluffy pillows scattered at the top, minimal furniture around to make it look realistic, and the lighting was just right. Wanda had received a hefty budget after her recognition that’s for sure.

“Alright, girly, let’s get you on the bed!” Wanda happily directs.

You nod silently, remove your footwear and plop down on the center of the large mattress. You decide to leave your legs sprawled on one side of your body, settling on a bashful position. It’s not hard for you because although you agreed to do this and have done several scenes, internally, you’re freaking the fuck out. Unbeknownst to you, it’s all part of your charm; the innocence you somehow still radiated was an all too endearing quality and actually sexy.

Even your attire was pretty modest, opting for a more casual look with black leggings and a tight long sleeve that accentuates your figure and shows off the right amount of cleavage. It was something that you could easily wear out in public, which again was a part of your brand in being as natural as possible, but come the right circumstances, when it was time to roll you could turn on the right switch.

“We’ll start off like a typical casting interview before we bring Bucky in and then we’ll go from there. Sounds good?” She runs down the plan with you, fixing a few strands of flyaway hairs on your head before back away from the bed. With a thumbs up and a smile from you, she starts recording.

“Welcome, Best New Starlet of the Year!” Wanda greets from behind the camera.

“Hi,” you politely reply with your signature sweet smile and a wave to the screen.

These scenes start off with a small interview recounting your tale into the porn industry leading up to your recent achievement and even delving a bit into your personal life before the topic changes to your co-star.

“So, how excited are you to work with Bucky today?”

No matter how hard you practiced at keeping a straight poker face, that was something you were unable to master from Natasha, and the blush couldn’t be contained.

Fidgeting at the hem of your top, you open and close your mouth, trying to find the right words. You’re overly flustered at the thought of Bucky and he wasn’t even in front of you yet. You don’t want to sound like a fool and ruin the atmosphere. Wanda mouths words of advice from where she sat in the director’s chair, “be honest.”

“Um, I’m...nervous,” you say truthfully.

“Nervous?” She questions, urging you to elaborate.

“Yeah, he’s Bucky Barnes! He’s hot and he’s got so much experience. I’m kind of scared I’ll be boring,” you finish explaining and hope to God that Natasha doesn’t kill you afterwards, or with that answer let Wanda down, but the smile on her face sends you a wave of assurance.

Maybe you could do this...

Earlier that day, Bucky had already recorded his little opening scene. Wanda had called him to report on set before you were scheduled to arrive.

On the contrary, Bucky was also a tab bit anxious to work with you. He’d seen some of your work and more so heard about your talent from his own best friend, Steve Rogers.

He didn’t deny it, he was very much attracted to you and he wanted a chance to work with you too. Bucky wasn’t a jealous person, which made working in the porn industry easy for him, but when he had to hear Steve recount his scenes with you, he couldn’t help but want to sock his own childhood friend. He didn’t of course, but the rage was evident and his other friend, Sam Wilson, took some sick pleasure in teasing him over it. In fact, the eccentric personality of the trio of friends, decided to tag along with Bucky to introduce himself to you and get under his skin a little more.

“What’s going on in that nasty head of yours?” Sam poked at Bucky as they made their way over to Wanda, who was by the camera setup going over a script with another stagehand. When Bucky doesn’t respond, it provokes Sam even more, “no way, you’re nervous!”

Bucky sighs fed up with dealing with the anxiety brewing ever since he found out he was going to star in this film with you. “Shut the fuck up, will you? Of course, I’m nervous,” he says, trying to remain calm.

“Dude, you’ve slept with some of the hottest people in the world and millions of people have seen you naked. Why is one girl any different?” Sam wonders.

“I don’t know, ok. She just seems so down-to-earth and normal?” Bucky attempts to explain. You were real. His work was just that, it was a work, and he was afraid that it would be different with you. He could say he was almost intimidated by you.

“Yeah, as if I don’t have to hear that enough from Rogers…” Sam chimed in. Steve had nothing but high praise for your performance. In fact, his testimony helped expose you a little further. He was an honorable performer and a respected one, so they took his word on you. “Maybe, I’ll be her next co-star,” and just like that Sam ruined a moment.

“God, I hate you,” was the last thing exchanged between the two friends as they finally reached Wanda. She warned Sam to behave and gave Bucky a quick rundown before instructing him to hop on the bed.

Bucky’s interview starts a little differently than yours. Having already been a more established performer than yourself, no one needed his background story. The only thing Wanda wanted out of him was his plans and opinion on you.

“Well, I don’t know too much about her, personally speaking...but everyone seems to love her,” Bucky’s answer was a bit bland for Wanda.

“She’s a great person to work with,” she comments and that’s a tactic most directors used to get talent to keep talking.

“That’s what Steve keeps saying,” he says with somewhat of an awkward light laugh. He could see Sam facepalming next to Wanda at that lame answer.

“Yeah, you don’t win best female newcomer for nothing,” Wanda points out. If anyone was the lucky one here, it was Bucky. He was climbing up in age and you were the next big thing. You were the real star of this film not Bucky. She was counting more on you to deliver than him.

“That’s right. She’s a very talented performer,” Bucky says, and this small comment opens up a can of worms for Wanda to build up on.

“Oh, so you’ve seen some of her work?” Bam! He was caught.

Bucky’s mouth starts twitching slightly and Wanda and Sam are smirking from their spots as they watch the gears in Bucky’s mind start turning faster trying to think of something. The only piece of advice Wanda gives is “be honest.”

He sighs, the jig was up. Smooth Bucky Barnes was caught red-handed, “yeah, I’ve watched some scenes. I’ve seen her in person a few times too…”

“Wait,” Wanda interrupts him abruptly. She knew you were attracted to Bucky, but never knew of any encounters between you two, “when did you meet her?”

“I haven’t,” Bucky starts, which causes a look of mass confusion on Wanda’s face before he follows up, “formally. I haven’t met her formally, but I’ve seen her at a few parties and at the award show...I was just nervous to walk up to her,” the words just kept flowing out of his mouth and he inwardly cringed at how awkward he might’ve sounded.

Sam was amused by his embarrassment, but Wanda was pleased with this result. Bucky was good at what he did and that included him trying to play it cool, which he did well on screen, sometimes.

“You know she was actually thrilled to find out she would be working with you,” Wanda said, stretching the truth. The truth was, you hadn’t verbally confessed that, at least not yet.

“Really?” Bucky asks all too hopeful, his mood noticeably perking up.

“Yup! Ever since she won Best New Starlet of the Year, people have been lining up to book her, but she chose this project. You were the deal breaker, Barnes,” she fabricated and hoped this all worked out for you two in the end.

“Wow, who would’ve thought this has-been still had it in him?” He jokes at himself. His humility would get the best of him in every situation.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! You didn’t win Best Male Performer of the Year again for nothing!” Wanda says and then steers the interview to a close.

After wrapping up Bucky’s scene, he’s allowed to stay in another room with a monitor. At first, he thinks it’s to help him prep for the scene, but to his surprise it’s a live feed of your interview and he starts clinging onto your every word. Enthralled by your journey, work ethic and he gets flustered all over again hearing you talk about your equal eagerness to work with him.

“You know, if anyone is the lucky one in this situation, it’s Barnes,” Wanda reminds as your interview comes to an end.

“Right,” you sarcastically remark.

“Are you ready for us to bring Bucky in?” She asks.

“It’s now or never,” you reply.

You watch the doorknob twist and the door open to slowly reveal Bucky. Where do you even start with him? He just looked like the total package. His gaze immediately on yours. As he makes his way towards the bed you’re still sitting on, when his knee comes in contact to the edge, you maneuver your body in his direction, sit up on your knees to meet him halfway and welcome him in a hug.

“Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he says when you pull apart. The both of you don’t break away completely. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck, his hands placed just above your waist, you can feel his fingers that slipped under the fabric rub your skin.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you respond, giving him a genuine smile and can’t help but stare at his pretty face. You had to remind yourself he’s just another guy, except he wasn’t. You didn’t know how he felt, but you wanted this, wanted him. You also don’t know if you’ll ever work him again after today, so he was going to get the real you.

A small, subtle clearing of someone’s throat shatters the staring contest between you and Bucky causing you both to sheepishly break away from the other, not realizing you’d both allowed dreaded dead airtime to pass by. You scoot over to make room for him next to you on the bed. After he pulls his footwear off, he sits cross legged in front of you, you have one leg tucked in and the other extended in front.

Bucky’s not entirely oblivious. He not only witnessed you backstage reveal you were actually nervous to work with him, he could feel it, so at an attempt to help ease both your nerves, he places a hand on your shin and absentmindedly run his hand up and down the fabric, fingers sometimes stopping to mess with the cuff of your leggings and at the skin of your ankle, while he listened to you speak.

He congratulated you on your achievement as you did with him, both a blushing mess before diving into different topics like traveling and other interests.

Wanda stood proudly behind the camera watching the scene unfold. Everything was so candid and real between you and Bucky, the chemistry was clearly evident, she didn’t foresee there would be much directing on her part today, which was going to make her job easy.

“Wanda said you were excited to work with me,” Bucky teases, wanting to see if what you said was just for the cameras or if it was really true, but also, he found out he liked to see you get all hot and bothered in more than one way.

Your jaw drops and you look directly into the camera, breaking the fourth wall, calling out to Wanda. You playfully chastise and curse at her for revealing your secret. She tells you it was going to come out anyways, and while that was true, you’d hoped it was later and much after you’ve slept with him, hoping it doesn’t ruin the shoot, but Bucky assures you that it’s actually a flattering to hear or in his words, “assuring” for someone like him.

“Are you kidding?” You say, lightly shoving him back, “you’re like a legend! Of course, I was excited! I’m surprised you agreed to work with a rookie like me!” Now that the cat was out of the bag, you might as well own up to your secret.

“Everyone wants to work with you,” he makes clear, leaning in closer. Fuck, he didn’t even need to initiate foreplay because with the way he was looking at you right now, you could come swear you’d come undone for him in an instant.

“Oh really?” You challenge, your body gravitating like a magnet towards his.

“Yup, Steve wouldn’t shut up about you and even Sam said he can’t wait to someday work with you,” he said, voice slowly dropping in decibels and his hands sliding up your thighs.

“Did he?” You ask, but you don’t really care about Sam as your eyes look dead into Bucky’s blue ones, swirling into a darker shade full of deep want and desire.

“Yeah, but let’s see if he still wants to try to outdo me after I’m done with you,” he whispers, finally closing the gap between your lips in a sweet kiss. It was about as sweet as it could last because after just one taste of your lips, he was a starved man, hungry for more. You tried your best to match his pace and the kiss turned sloppy very quick.

You moaned at the pressure of his lips pressed roughly against yours, and you do your best to keep up, but you’re already finding yourself short of breath. However, the more you try to pull back to regain some oxygen, the more he’s unwilling to part as he grasps your face in both hands to keep you still, so you lightly squeeze at his biceps as a warning in hope he gets the message.

Lucky for you, he does and lets up. He’s also noticeably breathless, his warm breath fanning against your kiss-swollen lips, his forehead resting against yours. Bucky’s hands are still on your face.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, and you let out a small chuckle at the sincerity. He was cute.

You take his hands in yours and bring them back down to begin undressing him starting by helping him slip his shirt over his head, the fashionable dog tags around his neck clank as it slaps against his toned chest, you let him keep them on though.

Bucky sits up on his knees as he watches you settle on your stomach, propped up by your elbows, hands getting ready to work on his lower half. He patiently watches as you unbuckle his belt, pop the button of his jeans off, and drag the zipper down.

With his pants hanging loose off his hips, you begin to plant soft kisses along his navel down the defined lines that lead to his cock. Each contact of your lips sends a ghostly tingle and the blood to rush even quicker down his lower region. The imprint of his endowed member doesn’t leave much to your imagination, you can already see the stain where the tip is through his tight boxer briefs. It gives you a little boost of confidence knowing you’d caused this and would get to take care of it.

You hook your fingers into the undergarment and tug them down his muscular thighs. His cock springs out, almost hitting you in the face causing you to jolt back a little and a smile to spread across Bucky’s.

Your clumsiness was also a part of your charm. It wasn’t on purpose, you were still learning after all, and that’s what made it so unique and fun to work with you. Your partners just felt a real, genuine connection, citing it felt less choreographed and of a porno with you.

A little embarrassed about that move, you’d watched what he can do with that cock, but nothing could’ve prepared you for it face-to-face. You don’t waste any time on getting your hands on him and wrap your fingers around his half-hard cock and start pumping him sensually.

He’s hot and soft in your hands before getting gradually heavy. The look in your eyes grows more predatory as you watch him grow and feel him getting harder with each pump causing more and more pre-cum to ooze out. You spread it all over the head of his cock with your thumb then daring to look up at him, hoping he was indeed enjoying your work, before you pucker your lips and kiss at the crown. Bucky curses when he sees your lips shining, coated in his pre-cum, with a string connecting you to his cock.

You gather the fluid up in your hand before spreading it all over his length, when it’s not enough you start not only pumping him faster, but also licking up and down, from the base to the tip, hoping to effectively slick him up. The way your tongue scrapes along over Bucky’s sensitive flesh stirs him up. Your other hand joins in to fondle with his neglected balls, massaging and pulling at them in the right moments, sometimes you travel a little south and take them in your mouth. It all but drives Bucky wild and it’s confirmed with each swear that leaves his mouth.

Bucky wants nothing more than to lodge himself deep in your throat, but he remembers he needs to go at your pace, and once you’re broken in a little more, you could follow his, so he’ll bide his time for now and watch you work.

When you’re ready to take him in, you regain his attention and he watches you slowly take in his inches down your mouth, stopping halfway before your wide-open mouth hollows out. Your full mouth immediately waters around him and it doesn’t take long before you’re a drooling mess all over his cock. You pull back torturously slow, looking back down watching his cock reappear and loving the way it disappears back in, and especially how it feels when it drags through your mouth, taking note of the veins and unique ridges.

“Don’t be like that, doll,” he says, wiping some of the hair away from your face, “come on and show me why they don’t stop talking about you,” he coaxes, now gathering some of your locks in his hand to completely give you both a clear view. He tries his best to not take the lead, but you don’t disappoint as your mouth works faster on him. The gagging and sucking, mixed with Bucky’s moans of pleasure soon become the soundtrack.

You’d gradually take him more and more in, close to deep throating him, and you’re just ready to let up, but he can’t help it and before your last round, he holds your head in place.

“Don’t quit now, baby,” he encourages you, placing his other hand on the back of your head, keeping you still and carefully starts to thrust his hips, urging you to take him all the way, “...that’s it, you can do it, you can take it,” he releases a big sigh feeling the tip of your nose bump his lower abdomen. The moisture builds up in the inner corner of your eyes and you do your best to mind your breathing and not choke.

“Fuck!” He can’t help but shout when he feels your throat contract around him. You just looked so divine, mouth full of his cock. He keeps you there for a few seconds, before releasing his hold, and you immediately pull back, drool dribbles down your chin, and you’re desperate for oxygen to return back into your system. He grabs your face by your chin forcing you to look up at him.

He uses his fingers to scoop up some of the mixed fluids of his arousal and your saliva at your chin before presenting it in front of you. You easily read his mind, look up at him with big, watery eyes, and take his coated digits in your abused mouth sucking the juices clean off him.

He growls and commends you, “...such a good girl.” When he slips his fingers out of your mouth, a small pop could faintly be heard, he gently yanks at your hair, craning your head back further, it’s almost painful but you don’t care, “do it again,” he demands.

You bite your lip and reposition yourself. Bucky settles in a more comfortable position on his back, completely rid of his pants and underwear, his legs spread open for you to lie between them. Before you get back to the job, you slip your tight top off, all-natural breasts spilling out and on display for him. His cock twitches at the sight and he lets his head fall back when he’s once more fully encased in the warm, wet cavern of your mouth.

When he finally starts begging you to let up, you pull back slowly pumping him and watch his every move, the rise of his chest as it heaves from the activity, the way he runs his hands over his face. He’s absolutely stunned by your performance so far.

“On your back,” he says, and you do as he commands, and forget who is supposed to really be in charge. He yanks your leggings and panties all the way down, chucking them behind him somewhere in the corner of the room.

“You’re so sexy,” he compliments, eyes taking in every inch of your naked body, hands getting their fill. His body dips, lips latching onto your breasts, kissing at the skin and sucking on each nipple before they make their way up the juncture of your neck and claim your lips again.

You feel his tongue run along your bottom lip, and they part to grant him full access. You barely notice how he takes a hold of one of your hands, he pulls his face away to bring the hand in his grasp up to your face, using your fingers to trace the outline of your lips. You see him inaudibly instruct you to open your mouth, you do as you’re told.

“That’s right get those fingers nice and wet,” he coaxes you to suck on your own digits until he deems you ready for the next move. When he finally does pull your fingers out from your mouth, he extends your arm, ghosting them just over your pussy.

“Play with that clit,” he tells you and you don’t need to be told twice. Your pussy was begging for any kind of attention. You let your wet fingers roll over the bundle of nerves, puffs of breath escape your body as you’re finally attending to your own needs.

Bucky sits back and watches you intently, fascinated by your every move. He instructs you to close your eyes and listen to his voice, instructing you to go slow at first, “does that feel good?” the only reply he gets is a fast nod, “yeah? Make yourself feel good...that’s it,” his words only encourage your fingers to soon work faster, “let me hear how good it feels,” he demands, and you moan and whine like the true pornstar you are, your circular motions speed up, the lewd noises egg him on and soon enough he wants a taste.

“Let me help you out,” and you feel the bed shift a bit, “spread those wet lips for me,” he requests. You use both hands to invite him into your wet, glistening hole. You pick your head up to see his face buried between your thighs, you watch just long enough until each broad lick up and down your pussy sends you close to the edge.

He no longer needs the support of your hands, and they find purchase in his dark, fluffy hair as he starts sucking on your clit and tonguing your folds. At first, you’re doing a good job keeping your legs apart to accommodate him, but it gets harder and harder for them to not clamp around his head, with every nudge the tip of his nose makes at your clit and it doesn’t help your case when he inserts a finger inside you. With a good curl, his finger scratches dangerously close to your sweet spot, causing your legs to start quivering.

The sudden hitch in your breathing catches his attention, and Bucky tests the waters more by digging in deeper and curling in further. He notices the increasing agitation and knows he’s found the trigger.

“Bucky,” you whine, hoping he doesn’t push you over just yet. You want to last longer, and so you reluctantly attempt to scoot back further away, but the sudden strong grip he has around your leg locks you in place. You pick your head back up and find Bucky’s eyes trained on you. You see the stoic look in his eyes laced with determination. Oh no, he wanted you to come now. You feel a hum from his full mouth, only pushing you further.

“Don’t hold back,” he says against your pussy, “let go,” and the gruff in his voice, vibrating against you, his thick digits still curled deep inside you, you can’t hold back the floodgates from bursting any longer.

He laps up your arousal as you desperately try to regain composure. He really pulled one out of you, proving he was as every bit good as he put out and you’re not even close to the end of this scene.

“Come here,” he says, getting back on his knees and pulling you up by your arms so you’re in an up-right sitting position once again, but with Bucky still towering over you, “open up.”

You comply and open your mouth wide, tongue out, not understanding his motive, and you’re met with full surprise when he spits in your mouth, a firm grip on your face, he holds you still.

“Don’t swallow,” he gravely warns. You feel and probably look stupid not knowing what he wants you to do with your mouth open wide and full of his spit mingling with your arousal, just trying to keep it all contained. Bucky was testing your patience and obedience and you passed every test so far. You were just the right amount of submissive, absolutely perfect.

You can feel his hard cock pressing up against your sensitive pussy, it slides up between your folds and the base rests on top of your mound. “Drool it out...on my cock,” he instructs. Oh. He guides your gaze down between your bodies, you purse your lips, and both watch as the liquid cascades down onto his erect member. He uses it to lube himself up before he pushes you down to lie flat on your back.

Bucky slowly but easily slips inside your wet channel but notices your slight struggle. He was big, and he gets it. The way your eyes are tightly shut, hands pulling at the sheets, you struggle to breath and your walls cruelly grip him tight. Normally, he’d just pound away until his partner got used to him, but he didn’t want to do that with you. He wanted you to enjoy feeling him.

He tries to help you relax by rubbing your thighs a little with soothing motions, when they fall limp on either side, he leans down, you feel the cool metal of his dog tags against your heated skin, his weight sort of comforting on yours, and arms entrapping your head. He lovingly calls out your name, and your eyes flutter open, your attention refocusing on him.

“We’ll go at your pace, alright?” he assures you. You curse yourself for allowing your heart to swell at his concern, but you nod giving him permission to move slowly. Your whimpers soon transition into pleasurable moans, the more your body begins to adjust to his.

“Damn, you’re so tight. You’ve never been stretched out like this by anyone before have you?” he dares ask, once he sees it’s a safe playing field once more, his hips moving slow, his cock sliding in and out of you. You attempt at a laugh between your ragged breathing and the intense sensation coursing through you.

“No,” you respond and kiss at his chin, the light stubble pricking your soft lips, “you’re so big.” You feel his cock twitch inside and you want to curse yourself again at the comment that unintentionally riles him up because he was nestled close to your spot again. Fuck, he could reach just the right depth in you.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you don’t want to go slow anymore. Fuck Wanda and this movie, you wanted all of Bucky now, “please fuck me,” you resort to begging. He inwardly growls and his hips start snapping forward, thrusts growing hard and uncalculated. You just lie there and allow him to use your pussy for his pleasure.

Bucky’s movements falter a bit in this position, so he steers both your bodies on their sides, still facing each other, he slings your leg high up over his hips, and resumes his task. His cock glides right back in your pussy and the new angle causes you to yelp and walls to clench around him.

“You feel so good,” his voice riddled with so much lust as he brings your body closer to his with a hand behind, full of your plushest asset. Your head rests on the bicep of his other arm that was underneath it.

Bucky’s expressive eyes ask you if you're close, and the more your walls continue to grip him, he starts begging for you to come with him. “I’m gonna cum,” he warns, giving up and letting you take the rest of the lead.

“Yeah?” you huff out, your fingers digging into the side of his hips, “you want to cum inside me?” You know he does; you can feel and see it written all over him, but you want to just poke at him like he had with you, “I want you to...I want all your cum inside me, Bucky,” and you wanted him to cum hard, deep inside, “fill my tight pussy up, please,” you plead.

With one more jab of his hips, your back arches and head is thrown back, you can’t help but let out a scream as your orgasm rips right through you like it’s never before. Bucky’s body on the other hand caves into yours, feeling almost paralyzed as your tight walls hold him in place and all he can do is bury his face into the sweaty skin of your neck.

His mouth hangs open, a plethora of profanities coming out of him, and he waits for his cock to finish spewing ropes of his hot, thick cum into you. Your walls can’t help but to involuntarily contract in small aftershocks, especially when he’s still coming.

Bucky continues to moan as he does as you hoped, he came hard and deep inside you. When you’ve both finally come down from the high, it’s silent, and even though you’d both long forgotten you were on a set with multiple people watching you two, they were also quiet, completely taken back by the performance.

Incoherent cries come out of each of you, when Bucky agonizingly pulls his cock out. For the most part you’re able to keep him inside, but he’d proven to come so much some of it seeps out and runs down in streak fashion along your thigh, staining the bed sheets.

In your last act, as your gazes meet each other again, your fingers dip inside your soaked cunt and coat them. Hypnotized by you, Bucky watches as you greedily suck off his essence from your digits, and you evoke a small hum in his favor at the taste bursting in your mouth.

Bucky bites at his bottom lip, trying to not lose it again. When your hand disappears, he tenderly wipes the matted hair away from your face, smoothing your hair back before pulling your body close again, swooping your lips for a deep kiss.

“Shit, you’re good,” he admits, when he pulls away, effectively breaking the blissful silence. You bust out in a fit of giggles beside him and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He’s not sure what he’s feeling, but it’s not something you’re supposed to feel towards your co-star, especially in the porn industry.

He smiles at you, basking in your afterglow and all he knows is that he wants to feel this high with you over and over, so he decides to risk it all, “I hope this doesn’t ruin the moment, but can I take you out some time?”

You try your best to read him, wondering if he was just still in the heat of the moment. Either he’s really good or he’s being sincere, you can’t tell and you’re hoping you’re not overthinking it, but his eyes, this whole time, were what gave him away. He performed with them and he definitely spoke through them.

Before you could accept and give him a definite answer, you’re both brought back to reality, “we’re still rolling here!” Wanda reminds.

A/N: Thank the pain meds for this. I think I effectively used up my vacation days the right way, won’t you agree? Likes, reblogs and comments/emojis are appreciated!

#mrwinterr writes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #pornstar!bucky barnes #pornstar!bucky #pornstar!bucky au

2K notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

extra 1 for Tedious Joys, with thanks to all the suggestions from people engaged in the discussion on tumblr, your ideas were fantastic and I used all that I could fit in!

Before Lan Qiren left to attend the first discussion conference held after Nie Mingjue’s ascension to the position of Nie sect leader – a notion that still gave Lan Qiren a stomachache merely to think of it – Lao Nie made him promise three times over that he would keep an eye on his painfully earnest, straightforward eldest son and keep him from doing anything foolish.

“Of course I will,” Lan Qiren finally said, exasperated: any more nagging, and he was going to be late. When he’d thought to himself that he’d picked up a wife, he hadn’t really expected this part of it; if anything, he assumed he’d be the one doing the nagging. “You know perfectly well that he’s as dear to me as my nephews! I don’t know why you feel the need to even ask.”

“Your nephews have good self-control, a trait my Nie sect most definitively lacks,” Lao Nie said. “We’re all in agreement that it’s not yet time to challenge Hanhan. What if A-Jue forgets that and, I don’t know, punches him in the face?”

“He won’t,” Lan Qiren said. “He’s a good boy, your son; you’ve told him not to, so he won’t. Anyway, if it really comes to it, I won’t let him.”

Finally, Lao Nie let him leave, and Lan Qiren made his way to the Lotus Pier for the discussion conference. Nie Mingjue and his retinue had arrived shortly before he did, the circles under his eyes and the small signs of mourning he still wore making him look older than he ought to be; there was a scowl fixed on his face that did not disappear entirely even when he nodded to Lan Qiren, although it did soften a little.

Lan Qiren’s heart hurt for him. To manage an entire sect at fifteen – even with support, the pressures of it must be well-nigh unbearable, and it looked as though Nie Mingjue had started using his cultivation to get him through all the nights of missed sleep, as unwise as that approach was in the long term.

It was strange to go to the habitual meeting of the Great Sect leaders, the one they had with each other before they mixed with all the other sect leaders, and bow to Nie Mingjue as if to a peer, rather than to a junior.

Stranger still to see Wen Ruohan do the same, a mocking smile on his lips as he raised his head from the greeting.

“Sect Leader Nie,” he said, and there was almost some sense of satisfaction as he said the unfamiliar words – no one had had to use them when it was Lao Nie, of course. “I bid you welcome, as the newest member to the ranks of leadership among our Great Sects.”

Nie Mingjue did not respond with words the way he had when similar sentiments had been offered by others – no Please give me guidance here, though that was understandable given what the entire cultivation world knew he believed about Wen Ruohan – and contented himself by merely jerking his head again in a nod.

“Your father was a very involved member of our little group,” Wen Ruohan continued, and was he really going to offer Nie Mingjue his condolences for Lao Nie’s death? Propriety demanded he do so, but he’d never cared much for propriety, and given his actions it would be an offense to all sensibility. “One could hardly hope to match him in his passion and enthusiasm in all that he did. I look forward to seeing you...take his place.”

His eyes flickered over Nie Mingjue from head to toe, blatant in its unspoken unspeakable implication, even as Nie Mingjue’s eyes went round with disbelief.

A moment later, it ended up being Lan Qiren’s fist that found its way to Wen Ruohan’s face.

Luckily, Wen Ruohan found it funny - laughing at how he’d managed to break Lan sect discipline, rather than taking offense - and no war was started.

Whether that would last once Lan Qiren reported the substance of the conversation back to Lao Nie, however...

“You know,” Lan Qiren said, staring at the ceiling and wishing it would come down on top of him. “It’s very nice that you’re all such good friends.”

His nephews both bobbed their heads in a polite nod.

“I’m sure Mingjue and Huaisang greatly appreciate it.”

Another nod.

“However, they are now sect leader and sect heir, and we must treat them with the dignity that those positions require.”

A third nod. He was starting to wonder if they’d been replaced by dolls with loose necks.

“This is why they were assigned their very own rooms in our guest quarters, rather than spending their nights in yours.”

“Nie Huaisang will be lonely if he sleeps by himself,” Lan Wangji said, stubborn as ever. “My room is better.”

“Wangji. Yesterday, you chased Huaisang up two separate hills with your sword, sat on him, made him cry, and then wouldn’t let him up until he admitted you were superior in every respect.”

Lan Wangji smiled briefly, a rare and beautiful sight that warmed the heart. “Mm. Deserved it.”

Lan Qiren flailed a little. “Wangji, do you even like him?”

“No.”

“Then why do you care where he sleeps?”

“If he sleeps badly, he will do even worse than he already does,” Lan Wangji said. “Someone might make fun of him.”

“…and what happens then?”

“Bite.”

“Wangji! We’ve discussed this, no biting people. Not even if they’re making fun of your friend!”

Lan Wangji nodded in a way that suggested he was only being agreeable so that Lan Qiren stopped insisting on silly things like Nie Huaisang getting his own bedroom instead of sleeping on the spare bed in Lan Wangji’s and not actually agreeing in the slightest.

They were still working on the biting thing.

Giving up, Lan Qiren turned his gaze to his older nephew.

Lan Xichen squirmed. “…sometimes I go to stay in his rooms instead?”

“You’re not even planning on coming up with an excuse?”

“Lying is forbidden, uncle.”

Lan Qiren pinched the bridge of his nose.

“For this sort of thing, you go to your eldest uncle,” Lan Qiren said flatly, and after a moment of contemplation, Lan Wangji conceded that he had a point.

After all, Lao Nie had been married several times, presumably intentionally, whereas Lan Qiren had ended up with a wife through circumstance and luck.

Lao Nie was a very good wife, though, even if for some reason Lan Wangji was required to refer to him as eldest uncle rather than calling him aunt – though that was mostly his uncle’s preference. Lao Nie thought being called auntie was hilarious.

In retrospect, though, Lao Nie’s tendency to think things were hilarious was a lot less endearing when it was aimed at him.

“Just tell him you like him,” Lao Nie suggested, as if that wasn’t the most ridiculous Nie sect style advice possible. “Tell him you want to spend more time with him.”

Lan Wangji shook his head firmly.

“How is this Wei Wuxian supposed to figure it out, then?”

He wouldn’t. Obviously. The question was how to get rid of the feelings, not how to actually let Wei Wuxian know that they existed.

“I don’t know, I find sex works really well to deal with repressed emotions associated with pining.”

Lan Wangji wanted to die.

Or possibly find and bully Nie Huaisang the way he used to when he was a kid. Not that he would, of course, he was above that, and also Nie Huaisang was really good at getting revenge and he couldn’t risk that happening where Wei Wuxian might see.

“Sex is not a valid solution in all cases,” Lan Wangji’s uncle interjected.

“Ah, Qiren, Qiren. Are you still holding Hanhan against me?”

“Yes, I am. He tried to kill you.”

“So?” Lao Nie shrugged. “That describes basically everyone I ever slept with.”

“Have you ever considered that that may be part of your problem?”

“Don’t act like I’m the only one! Look at Wangji here; the first thing he noticed about this Wei Wuxian character was his excellent fighting skills – a moonlight duel on the rooftops, how romantic –”

“You don’t know what romance is –”

Lan Wangji was just going to go back to his unrequited pining.

It couldn’t be worse than having to listen to this argument again.

Lan Wangji was fighting frantically, but he already knew his sword would not be sufficient.

They were going to burn the library.

All those precious books..!

His uncle had already sent Lan Xichen away with the most important ones, but Lan Wangji didn’t want to lose any of them. These books had been his friends growing up, the source of his strength and the consolation in his loneliness – their pages bore silent witness to his childish tears, the imprints of his dirty fingerprints, the good times and the bad. There were books he had thumbed through a thousand times until he knew them down to the last idiosyncratic quiver in their calligraphy and books he had not yet acquainted himself with, had only seen on the shelves and thought one day. To lose them now, old friend and future friend alike, would be to break his heart.

There was a sound behind him and he spun, already tired, exhausted, and it was Wen Xu behind him, the leader of the invading Wen sect cultivators himself. He was smiling so cruelly, holding a fire talisman aloft like a flare, knowing that Lan Wangji wouldn’t make it in time to stop him –

A hand wrapped itself around Wen Xu’s wrist from behind, freezing the motion.

Freezing not just him, but all the Wen cultivators around him, each one of their faces twisting in horror as they realized that a cultivator dressed in astere mourning white that might be mistaken for the colors of the Lan sect had managed to get through their forces to stand at their master’s side, even if his hands were empty of any weapon.

Their horror quickly turned to agony, and then nothing at all, as the reconstituted Jiwei flew through the air, battering through their swords with overwhelming force and piercing their bodies, as vicious and free as if she were alive – there was nothing that quite compared to the Nie sect’s fierce sabers when unleashed at the beck and call of their masters, a weapon against which regular spiritual weapons had difficulty holding up.

With their bodies fell their fire talismans, their flares, and suddenly Lan Wangji felt hope thudding in his chest: one man could not change the tide of war, but he could change the course of a single battle, especially if he could convince Wen Xu to order a retreat.

If Wen Xu ordered a retreat now –

The library would survive.

“Tell Hanhan that Lao Nie said ‘hello’,” Lao Nie said in Wen Xu’s ear – his face was as pale as a ghost in the fire and moonlight, his lips red as blood and his smile full of viciousness like a slash across his face –and with a single twist he snapped the bone of Wen Xu’s wrist.

“It really isn’t me!” Wei Wuxian protested. “For one thing, didn’t the sightings of old Sect Leader Nie start before I took up demonic cultivation?”

“I don’t think it was you that did it,” Nie Mingjue said, not for the first time. His eyes kept flickering around the room as if seeking help, and his expression, to those that did not know him well, was stormy; Wei Wuxian saw this and clearly panicked, continuing to try to explain.

To those that did know Nie Mingjue well, it was immediately obvious that he was trying very hard not to laugh.

Lan Xichen sympathized.

It wasn’t Wei Wuxian’s fault that it served their purposes for the moment to have it be thought that Lao Nie was a spectre arisen from his grave in search of personal vengeance on Wen Ruohan – it was certainly causing Wen Ruohan no end of agony, judging by the way his strategy got a lot less rational and a lot more frenzied whenever Lao Nie put in an appearance – and if he was even slightly more discreet a personality, they would have simply brought him in on the secret already.

They were planning to – Lan Wangji had insisted, looking pained on his secret beloved’s behalf (secret in the sense that Wei Wuxian didn’t know about it, not secret in the sense that everyone else in their small family knew about it) – but they hadn’t had a chance. Lao Nie had insisted on being there to make things clear, since apparently he’d accidentally-on-purpose bumped into Wei Wuxian a few times in the Cloud Recesses while masquerading as a Lan sect elder so that he could evaluate his nephew-by-proxy’s crush, and he hadn’t yet arrived.

Which led to the current situation of Wei Wuxian being earnest and Nie Mingjue attempting to send mental smoke signals to Nie Huaisang in an effort to have the latter rescue him.

To no one’s surprise, Nie Huaisang was being no help at all.

In fact, his occasional well-timed sobs of “Wei-xiong! I thought we were friends! My father’s corpse! How could you?!” were in fact making things notably worse.

“I didn’t! I really didn’t!” Wei Wuxian yowled.

Lan Xichen was not going to laugh.

He wasn’t.

“And who’s to say the Yiling Patriarch won’t try to take charge of the Nie sect, too..?”

“Well, for one thing, I’m actually alive,” Lao Nie said loudly, and Lan Xichen flinched at first before relaxing. He’d forgotten, somehow, that Lao Nie had been the most shameless member of the last generation; it was no surprise that he, who could be as blunt as his son when he wanted to be, would address the whispered rumors drifting around them directly and without pretense. “Wei Wuxian may be a demonic cultivator who created a conscious fierce corpse, but no one has yet suggested with any plausibility that his abilities extend to living people who were just in hiding – which is a good thing, given how many people here would fall into that categorization.”

There was an awkward silence.

Sect Leader Jin coughed. “No one is suggesting that you’re Wei Wuxian’s puppet, Lao Nie,” he said, even though someone had very clearly been suggesting exactly that and if anyone believed that they had done so within Sect Leader Jin’s home without his knowledge then Lan Xichen was worried about what else they’d be willing to believe. “We’re merely expressing concern regarding his increasingly reckless actions – and on behalf of the Wen sect, no less! Especially with him having custody of such a powerful tool as the Tiger Seal, it is a little suspicious…”

“Wait, are you suggesting that you think Wei Wuxian has been possessed?” Lao Nie said. “By Hanhan? That’s ridiculous; they’re nothing alike. Wei Wuxian attended the hunt at Phoenix Mountain and didn’t hit on me once, there’s no way Hanhan is possessing him.”

Sect Leader Jin’s eye twitched.

Lan Xichen did not smile, but it was a challenge. Truly there was no one quite like Lao Nie when he was in full swing.

“Still, if people are having that sort of nonsense float around, I think it makes perfect sense for me to go check up on him to see how he’s doing,” Lao Nie continued. “I’m a respected member of the previous generation, and no one knows Hanhan better than me. Better still, I’ll take Qiren with me; we’ll make a holiday of it – it’s the least we deserve, really, now that we’re both retired sect leaders.”

“I suppose it would be more appropriate to send someone removed from active politics,” Lan Qiren said, voice a little toneless and neutral as always. “That would allow us to avoid any unfortunate implications that other sects were seeking to utilize the bad reputation of demonic cultivation to extract the Tiger Seal for their own purposes.”

Lan Xichen’s uncle was a renowned teacher, but equally well known for his inability to read the subtle nuances in social situations – no one else could have gotten away with just saying that when everyone was painfully aware that it was the subtext of Sect Leader Jin’s actions.

Though, actually, it was possible his uncle just hadn’t realized it was, in fact, meant to be subtext.

“I think that makes perfect sense,” Lan Xichen interjected before Sect Leader Jin – or Jin Guangyao, for that matter – could say anything. His sworn brother had never entirely forgiven Lao Nie for showing up at the last possible moment to murder Wen Ruohan personally before he could claim his head himself, even though the fame he had won for being their spy had still been sufficient to get him a spot in the Jin family, and as a result he was inclined to use his clever tongue to oppose Lao Nie just because he could. “Sect Leader Jiang, Wei Wuxian is a member of your sect, and therefore you have primary charge of him. Would you be willing to take Lao Nie and my uncle with you when you go to see him to act as impartial judges?”

“But I don’t want to be a third wheel on their old people sex honeymoon!” Jiang Cheng blurted out.

There was another moment of silence, and then Lao Nie burst out in howling laughter.

Nie Mingjue followed suit only an instant behind him, and of course once Nie Mingjue was laughing then there was no hope for Lan Xichen; he’d never been able to resist Nie Mingjue’s laughter, so rare after he’d become sect leader. Within moments, the tense atmosphere Sect Leader Jin had so carefully cultivated had been utterly shattered and the entire room was sobbing with hilarity, excluding only Lan Qiren who was scowling at all of them and Lan Wangji whose laughter was entirely in the way his eyes were crinkled in the corners.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Lan Qiren said icily as his former student cowered in front of him. “I will have you know that Lao Nie and I are not in a sexual relationship –”

“Wait, you’re not?” Sect Leader Jin blurted out, clearly despite himself, and that just set the whole room off again.

“Welcome to the Unclean Realm,” Lao Nie said.

“Since when do former sect leaders act to greet people at the door?” Wei Wuxian said, grinning at him: they had gotten on splendidly ever since the whole ‘did I resurrect you from the dead by accident’ question had resolved, and Lao Nie helping him out of the tough spot with the Wen sect by arranging his marriage to Lan Wangji had sealed his approval of him forever.

That was why he was arriving with the Lan sect delegation, after all, although Jiang Cheng had kicked his heels around at the entrance in order to ambush him – he wanted to ask some questions about Jiang Yanli’s upcoming wedding plans – and of course the Jin sect had gotten suspicious that they were up to something and waited as well so they were now coming in as one big group.

At least it gave Lan Xichen some time to chat with Jin Guangyao, who seemed much happier to be spending time away from the rest of his family; based on what he’d overheard of their conversation, they were scheming to get Nie Mingjue to relax a bit more and let his father temporarily take up sect leader duties again now that he and Lan Qiren were spending half the year at the Unclean Realm.

“I’m on punishment duty,” Lao Nie said, looking delighted by it.

Which, hey, seemed weird, but based on everything Lan Wangji had told him about the former sect leader Nie (and his own mysterious ‘eldest uncle’, as he’d been known while he was at the Lan sect) and his former exploits, it seemed very in character for the man. And, well, Wei Wuxian wasn’t really in any position to throw stones…

“Eldest Uncle,” Lan Xichen said, looking over. “Did you do something to irritate Uncle again?”

“I didn’t! It was something different, actually, which I’m not at liberty to disclose to you.”

Oh, now Wei Wuxian was curious, and so was everyone else – Jiang Cheng sent him a ‘you don’t have shame, why don’t you ask’ sort of look at once – and since he did not, in fact, have shame, he asked, “Are you sure? What could it possibly be that you did?”

“Oh, Xiao Nie knows what he did,” an old woman in Nie sect colors said as she passed by. “And he’s going to stand there until he admits that he was wrong.”

“I’ll be here until I collapse,” Lao Nie explained proudly, but by that point everyone had stopped caring about whatever new thing he’d done in light of the newest twist.

“Did she just call you Xiao Nie?” Jiang Cheng said, sounding betrayed.

“…yes? She’s my great-grandaunt, she can call me anything she likes?”

“It’s just wrong,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “Isn’t it just wrong?”

“It is a bit wrong,” Jin Zixuan said, looking perturbed.

“Very wrong, even,” Lan Xichen said. “I didn’t know anyone did that.”

“No one does,” Lao Nie said. “Now stop gossiping and go inside already!”

“They say married couples start to act like each other,” Wei Wuxian said to Lan Wangji, who looked amused. “There really seems to be some truth to it – do you think he’ll start reciting Lan sect rules next? Ooh, or musical cultivation?”

Finding out that Lan Qiren was apparently the musical cultivation equivalent of a mad scientist in his spare time had been the happiest moment in Wei Wuxian’s life.

“Just wait until you see what Uncle is like when he’s drunk,” Lan Wangji said, and stop. What?

That was a thing?

Wei Wuxian had to make that happen right away.

#mdzs #lan qiren #sect leader nie #lan xichen #lan wangji #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #tedious joys #extras #yes it's extra no 1 #because there is a second extra #with a very different tone #also to be posted today but later in the afternoon

231 notes · View notes

evakuality · 3 years

Photo

Matteo - Episode one

Okay bear with me. I know I’ve talked about this season a LOT over the last couple of years but I’m not going to do a rewatch (or first watch in some cases) of the Druck seasons and not include this one. And knowing me, I will be very verbose about this one because I do just love it so much. Even though I already talked about it at length.

So, to mix things up, I decided to watch this one in real time mode. Which has been both lovely (revisiting what it was like to follow along with everything back then) and really frustrating (revisiting what it was like to wait for clips back then). But it’s been a good exercise, particularly with this episode because I didn’t get truly involved in the show til a couple of weeks later so there’s a lot I missed in terms of social media etc the first time around. So let’s start there.

Social media: It was nice to get the stuff leading in to this season which I hadn’t seen before. The decisions around moving into the new place and getting Matteo involved etc were all super cute. I liked the stuff with Sam after her party and how they kept that story - at the time it must really have felt like an immersive thing moving from Mia’s story to Matteo’s. The stuff around the flatwarming party is interesting too. Matteo and Sara’s posts make it seem like they’re at two different parties. Matteo’s has barely and hint of Sara at all whereas hers makes it seem like they were joined at the hip all evening and super happy together. And then even through the week her things were much more focused on Matteo (and on Leonie’s crush on David) whereas again, with his Sara only comes up if he’s asked about her. I know it’s very clear in the clips as well, but honestly, the texts and instagram posts etc really make it clear how much she had built this up in her head vs how indifferent he is to it. One really interesting one is where she asks Leonie not to spread it around that she and Matteo are together. It suggests that she already knows this isn’t what she wants it to be, but either through desperation or naivety or by lying to herself, Sara doesn’t allow herself to see it. It’s very sad for her and I do feel for her a lot more than I ever did for Emma.

Clip one: I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again now. I really really love this clip. It’s a perfect introduction both to Matteo’s PoV and to all the themes of the season. Matteo is surrounded by people through the whole thing, and on the surface and from the outside it probably looks like he’s slotted in and having a great time - he talks, he dances, he appears to be having a good time and his social media is curated to make it appear that way too. But it’s clear since we’re in his PoV that he’s actually isolated and on the outskirts of what’s going on. That’s done both in the music and sound (the way he fades in on the discordant, out of place note will always always get me as well as the way that the chatter and ‘reality’ of the party only comes into focus when Sara makes him kiss her) and in the conversations that are held. The way the boys really do just focus on sex sets us up for Matteo’s explosion later where he accuses them of only talking about sex - which is sadly fairly true in these earlier episodes. And Matteo tries to join in but all he manage is ‘that looks exhausting’ and ‘you bet’ when asked about him and Sara. The fact that his contribution is about how exhausting sex (and by extension relationships) must be is really telling of his mind set. Everything is too exhausting for him and he’s not ready to put in much effort at all. The isolation goes deep with this boy and it’s all already so well shown in this first clip. I like that we got hints of that through Mia’s season as well (and the seeds were planted in Hanna’s - what with his tagging along to the cabin and his stuff with his family etc etc), and so while this is a much more closed off and sad Matteo than we’ve seen before it’s not come out of the blue. The fact that he’s still curating his social media to look like he’s happy and connected also reminds us that what we saw before isn’t necessarily what the truth was.

Clip two: I like how Matteo, unlike Isak, is clearly already very well aware of his feelings and his attraction to boys. His pining over Jonas is both obvious and very sad. He’s well aware that he can’t let anyone know, and the reminder with the number on Jonas’s arm is gut wrenching for him and for us to watch. And then scattered through the whole episode is a lot of reminders that Jonas is a ‘player’ now - it’s shown by Jonas himself, by the boys teasing him, by Hanna’s sad little ‘I’m happy for him’ message etc etc. And all of it serves to remind Matteo that he can never have what he’s wanted for so long. So it’s no wonder that he removes himself from the situation to go get rolls or whatever it was that he bought. The ‘I’m waiting for you’ banter would absolutely be the last straw. Jonas can joke that he wants a guy, but Matteo knows that he’s not going to ever be able to have it be true for real. As an aside, I can see why a lot of people thought Jonas might be GerEven at the time because a) Matteo’s thing has always been a lot more obvious and b) Jonas seems much more open and willing to consider the ideas.

Clip three: Well, I don’t have a lot to say about this one. Except that !!!!! this first ‘meeting’ with David is so good and so well done and it works to rock both of them out of their little ruts and makes them both ‘wake up’ in a way. It’s nothing, just a chance meeting in a hallway, two boys passing then looking back at each other. But we can see just how much that one glance affected Matteo as he walks off and while we don’t see it in David as yet, he also makes reference to how knocked off course he felt when he met Matteo. I have always liked that they’re in the same year and so on a real equal footing from the start and this is all part of that. This moment affects both of them equally, knocking them out of their complacency, and it’s such a perfectly framed and filmed and edited moment.

Clip four: One thing I hadn’t noticed til this time around is that the girl who ends up sitting next to Jonas was at the back of the classroom, already sitting at a desk, earlier. She obviously saw her moment and scrambled to take it - the second Matteo was out of his seat, she was in it. Perhaps news of Jonas’s new ‘player’ status is getting out and she wants some of that action. I really like that Matteo and Amira already clearly have a much more friendly history than Isak and Sana. They’re both forced to work together by circumstances and a teacher, but here there’s already more of a history. Also, correct me if I’m wrong, but Sana came to Isak but here Matteo goes to Amira. That’s because of course Matteo more obviously stashed the weed on Amira and so he immediately knows who has it and where he has to go to get it back. But it again makes him more proactive than Isak was at this early stage. Amira is rightfully pissed at him - Sana was defending a friend from Isak’s shitty behaviour, Amira was herself affected and so she is much more firmly involved and has more reason to be cold. Which works because in general Amira is softer and less aggressive and cold than Sana is so it fits for her to be directly angry for herself.

Clip five: ugh, so uncomfortable!!! Sara is trying really hard to actually communicate with Matteo, and kudos to her for actually using her words, but it’s so painfully obvious how awkward and artificial this conversation is. It’s not really a surprise that she doesn’t feel like this is totally settled as yet and asks Leonie to keep it to herself. On the one hand, he agreed that they’re together (after making her make the decision) but on the other hand, he broke away from kissing etc so they could watch something together. His words may be saying what Sara wants to hear, but his body language etc is saying something entirely different. She deserves a whole lot better than Matteo and the way he’s using her, but I guess this is how it can be - he’s cute, he’s not totally rejecting her and so she lets herself believe.

Clip six: well, again. This clip does such a good job of properly introducing David with several hints to what’s going on with him but no actual answers. It’s another example of two people talking at cross purposes, but where Sara lets it drop and the conversation dies out once she hears what she wants to hear, here David picks it up again once Matteo backs off. Again, they are a good pair - equally invested and equally willing to set and respect boundaries and try to make connections in a safe way. Imagine how this must look to David - this boy who did shake his world up a bit in their one small moment together (as another aside - ugh the wait between that first sight and this one is so long in real time!!!), is intriguing and interesting and asks him to go smoke with him. Which is all very cool and David wants these connections and to make friends and this boy clearly appealed to him in some way at that first meeting. But also, this boy is asking all kinds of invasive question which threaten the things David is trying to keep private, for example the pressing of ‘you’re new’ and how ‘weird’ it is to change schools at this point. It’s no wonder David goes cold and distant and does his best to stay aloof. But then of course Matteo respects that boundary and pulls back and so then David is able to make connections in a safer way, talking of things that matter to him but which aren’t quite so confronting for a first chat. Detroit, running away etc and Matteo shows that he gets it and understands those impulses. And so by the end they’ve fairly quickly established a connection and a rapport and so Sara’s intrusion is unwelcome to both of them. Given that David literally runs away when she appears, I wonder how much he knows of her from their shared class. She certainly doesn’t seem to know much except that he’s the guy Leonie likes. Speaking of which, Matteo’s ‘I think that’s someone else’ is so bizarre in this situation. He’s talking to a ‘new’ kid at school and Sara made it clear that Leonie likes the new kid, so he shouldn’t be surprised. But it’s obvious he already wants David for his own and acknowledging that Leonie may also like him is too much, I guess. After Jonas and his string of people hanging off him, I doubt Matteo wants to be caught up in something similar with David. We’ve already seen how painful a crush on an uninterested guy is for Matteo and how much of himself he has to hide away - no wonder he wants David to be ‘someone else’ and actually be someone he can think about in that way after they started to make a connection.

#druck #og druck #matteo episode one #I had such a moment of 'I'm home' when I started watching the first clip #this is my Druck home and always will be

54 notes · View notes

roseworth · 3 years

Text

'cause i know you won't

word count: 6.8k

description: “As much as I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and my family…" the King said. "We can’t have a criminal living in the castle. Even a reformed criminal.”

Eugene and Rapunzel are separated by circumstance, and they need to learn how to live their new lives without each other.

(title inspired by One More Weekend by Maude Latour)

AO3

“Mr… Fitzherbert,” King Frederic said, his face stoic. “My daughter has told me you played a substantial role in her return home.”

“Oh, well, she did most of the work,” Eugene responded, nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I, uh, I just wanted to keep her safe.”

The King hummed in approval, scanning his face. “She certainly cares a lot about you.”

“And I care about her, too.”

“I see,” he said simply, then cast his gaze away. “As much as I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and my family… we can’t have a criminal living in the castle. Even a reformed criminal.”

Eugene nodded. “I understand, Your Majesty.” He kept his eyes glued to the floor in front of him. He wasn’t sure he could trust his own face if he looked up at the King.

“However, I have pardoned all your previous crimes in Corona. As of now, you are a free man in the kingdom,” he said as he handed Eugene a small stack of papers. Records that he had been pardoned. “And as promised, you will receive a reward for the return of the Princess.”

He didn’t want a reward.

“Thank you, Sir.”

The King examined him for a moment, then sighed. “I understand that you and Rapunzel are… close. But there’s no room for you in her new life, and I hope you can both accept that.”

Eugene forced a smile. “Yes, I understand, Your Majesty. Trust me, this pardon is more than I could ever ask for.”

Frederic nodded curtly, then extended his hand for Eugene to shake. Eugene shook it quickly and stood up, praying his legs wouldn’t collapse under him. He quietly walked out of the room before the King could change his mind and throw him in a prison cell.

He was a free man for the first time in… he didn’t know how long. He was running from guards for as long as he could remember. It felt wrong to walk past them now without fear of being arrested.

What would he do now? He honestly didn’t think he was going to make it this far. He was half-expecting to be strung up as soon as Rapunzel was safe. Yet he had still let himself hope that he could stay with her. That was his mistake.

As he walked down the hall of the castle on his way out, he glanced over at the door leading to Rapunzel’s new room. Her mother had brought her there to show her around and spend more time with her as the King talked to Eugene. She was probably still in there if he wanted to say goodbye.

He stopped in his tracks and stared at the door for a long time. Should he say goodbye? He wasn’t sure when he would see her again, and he did care about her. He wanted to make sure she was okay.

But maybe it would be better if he didn’t. It would be easier for her to let him go if he just left. It was like the King said, there was no room for him in her new life. She had her parents now, and a whole kingdom. She didn’t need him to cause problems when she’s finally happy.

Then again, maybe it would be better for closure if he said goodbye. So she could see that she didn’t need him, and she could easily transition into life without him. But that was selfish, wasn’t it? He just wanted to see her one last time even though it would hurt worse to see her again knowing that he could never be with her.

In the end, anything he could say to her would make it worse. He wanted to see her, but it would be better in the long run if he would just leave now without causing problems. That was what she needed, right? A life without problems. A life without people that would care more about themselves than about her. A life without him.

He took a deep breath and turned around, walking away from her room and out of the castle.

With the reward he received for rescuing the Lost Princess, he was able to buy himself a place to live in the kingdom. It certainly felt weird; having his own house and his own bed was all new to him. This life of not-crime was going to take some getting used to.

He had started talking to himself to cover the silence pretty quickly. Silence didn’t sit right with him now that he wasn’t hiding from anyone.

“Alright, straight-and-narrow day one!” he said cheerily, clapping his hands together. “Step one: make amends.” He figured if he was going to be living among the people of Corona, he couldn’t have them thinking of him as Flynn Rider anymore. He wanted them to know him as Eugene, and that started with fixing the mistakes Flynn Rider made.

Besides, making amends would be easy! Or it would be the hardest thing he’s ever done, he still wasn’t sure. Could go either way.

He opened the door and walked into the street, taking a deep breath and looking around. He would have to take it one by one, finding a way to make amends individually with everyone he had stolen from. That might take a while.

He didn’t steal anything too big from citizens. Most of his heists were taking from royalty and the elite, but he would often steal money or other essentials from normal people. It was enough to disrupt their lives, and they deserved some kind of restitution for that.

His first stop on his apology tour was the local shoemaker. Eugene had stolen a crate of boots from him a few years back, so he figured that was a good place to start. It wasn’t big enough that it was unforgivable, but it still might be memorable.

When he walked into the shop, he saw a familiar-looking mousy man with red hair standing behind the counter. The man looked up at him as he entered. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, I don’t know if you recognize me but-”

“You’re Flynn Rider!” the man interrupted, his eyes widening.

Eugene laughed uncomfortably. “Yes, but I recently had my crimes pardoned and I’m trying to turn over a new leaf, starting with making amends for the things I’ve done wrong.”

The man eyed him suspiciously. “I heard you saved the Princess, is that right?”

“Well, kind of. I didn’t really do much to save her, just happened to climb a tower where the Princess happened to be,” he admitted. The cobbler chuckled.

“Well, Flynn, what can I do for you?”

“Actually, it’s more what I can do for you,” he said. “I stole some shoes from here a few years ago, and while I can’t un-steal them, I’d like to make it up to you somehow.”

The man paused in thought, looking Eugene up and down to try to distinguish whether or not he was lying. “Alright then, how much do you know about making shoes?”

Eugene grinned. “I’ve actually been repairing my own shoes for years!” he said proudly. He lifted his foot and pointed to his boot. “This shoe has fallen apart more times than I can count, but look at it now! Perfectly intact!”

The shoemaker inspected the shoe and hummed his approval. “Impressive cobblering!” he said. “How would you like to do some work to repay me for the shoes, Flynn?”

“That sounds perfect,” he replied with a grin. “And my real name is actually Eugene, not Flynn.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I get why you went by Flynn for so long,” he said with a shrug. “I’m Feldspar.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Feldspar,” he said. “And I’m sorry for stealing from you all those years ago.”

Feldspar waved a hand dismissively. “Well, Eugene , if you’ve really changed like you say you have, it’s glue under the sole,” he said. “That’s a cobbler phrase. It’s like ‘water under the bridge,’ but better, because it’s about shoes.”

Eugene laughed. “Got it.”

Over the next few days, Eugene learned more about shoes than he ever thought he would know. He learned that the things he had been calling “that thingy” and “that other thingy” for years actually had their own names (it was the “welt” and the “outsole,” Who knew?).

He had made more shoes than he had stolen, and he was honestly pretty proud of himself. He had done a job and not a “job.” Honest labor was a new concept to him, but it was very welcome.

“I think you’ve more than paid off your debts,” Feldspar said at the end of the day, polishing his equipment. “But if you ever wanted to work here permanently, I’d be more than happy to hire you.”

“Really?”

“Of course! You’ve got some real skill here.”

Eugene grinned proudly, looking at the shoes he made. “I would love to. I just need to finish making amends to everyone else first,” he said. “But if the offer still stands once I do that, that would be great.”

“You’re a good kid, Eugene,” Feldspar said, patting his shoulder. “I can put in a good word with the rest of the town. I’m sure they’d all love to hear you out.”

“I sure hope so,” he said. His tone was lighthearted, but they both knew he wasn’t really kidding. He truly did want the rest of the kingdom to realize that he had moved past his old life, and he wanted to make it up to them.

He arrived back at his house later that night and breathed a small sigh of relief. “One forgiveness down, a thousand more to go,” he said to himself. “But that wasn’t so bad! I could have done this years ago!”

And maybe if I had done this years ago, the King wouldn’t have seen me as just a thief, and I could-

He closed his eyes and waved his arms in front of himself as if he could swat away the thought. He couldn’t dwell on Rapunzel. He had to move on. Even if she had changed his life for the better and brightened his entire outlook on life, and she was maybe the only person he had ever truly cared about.

Yeah, he had to forget about what he had lost, and stay focused on what was ahead of him. He sighed, running his hands over his face. He wondered if she was doing okay. She had been home for over a week now, and he hoped she was adapting alright.

He wished he could be there. He wanted to help her as best he could and make sure she was okay. She had other people now, a real family that loved her. He couldn’t provide her with anything.

But he missed her. He was constantly thinking about what it would be like if he didn’t have to leave her. He could be with the love of his life, and they would be happy. Maybe that was selfish. She deserved better than him, and he knew that. He was trying to move past the selfishness that he had held onto in his past.

He took another deep breath, trying to stop drowning himself in thoughts that would just hurt him. Instead, he chose to think about his forgiveness mission again. He still had a long way to go before he repaid all the debts he could, but he was proud of the small amount he had accomplished.

He knew he changed; he wasn’t who he was just a couple weeks ago. Himself from a month ago wouldn’t even recognize him now. He wanted to believe he really could be a better person than he was before. Abandoning the “Flynn Rider” persona might be the best thing he ever did.

He spent a lot of time the coming weeks meeting Coronans and doing what he could to make amends. Most of them just asked that he work to repay what he had stolen, which he was more than happy to do. Even though he wasn’t exactly the best at many of the jobs (apparently you can’t speed up baking by turning the oven to 600 degrees), he did his best to help out where he could.

His next stop was the blacksmith. He had been told that the blacksmith was kind, so hopefully, it wouldn’t be hard to get on his good side.

He approached the shop carefully, then waved to the man standing there. He looked tall and intimidating (especially since he was holding a huge hammer), so Eugene hoped the rumors about him being a gentle giant were true.

“Hi, uh, Xavier, right? My name is Eugene, but I used to go by Flynn Rider, and I stole some stuff from you. And I want to make amends for what I did,” he said. He had tried to get his opening statement down over time, but he never knew how to phrase the words ‘I stole from you and I can’t get your stuff back but I would really like it if you forgave me!’

Xavier smiled at him. “I appreciate the gesture, Eugene, but I do not believe you ever stole anything from me. So you don’t need to make up for anything!”

Eugene grimaced. “See, you don’t think I stole from you, but I know I did. Whenever weapons or gold would randomly disappear from here, that was usually me.”

“Oh,” the blacksmith said simply. He paused for what seemed like forever (but was really only a couple seconds), then chuckled. “I don’t know what you could do to make it up, but I do not mind that you took from me. I am sure you needed it.”

Eugene chewed on his lip. True, he definitely wouldn’t have survived without the weapons he stole, but that didn’t make it okay that he stole them. “Is there any work that you would need me to do? Or anything to just make your life a little easier? I want to make it up to you somehow.”

Xavier smiled. “You know what, I do have something. You’re an adventurer, right? Give me a good story, and I’ll consider your debts paid.”

He was taken aback, but smiled back anyway. “A story? Like what?”

“You saved the Lost Princess, right? How did that go?”

Eugene paused. He wasn’t sure how to tell a story like that. In all honesty, he was still grappling with everything that had happened, and he was pretty sure the story was going to sound insane. But the man asked for a story, and so as weird as it was, he was going to tell it as best he could.

“This is the story of how I died,” he said dramatically, then smiled. “Though, it’s not really my story. It’s Rapunzel’s.”

He launched into the story of the girl in the tower who only dreamed of seeing the lanterns, and the guy who only had a crown on his mind. There were quite a few holes in his story where he had no clue what happened. He had never figured out why her hair was magical in the first place, much less how Gothel found out about it.

Throughout the whole story, Xavier looked intrigued. He wasn’t sure how the man wasn’t at all phased by talk of magic healing hair and swordfighting horses, but he didn’t bother dwelling on it.

“And so, once I was brought back to life and she told me she was the Lost Princess, we went back to the kingdom. Now she’s with her family, and it’s the happy ending everyone wanted,” he finished. He looked at Xavier, trying to decipher what he was thinking.

“Wow,” he said. “That must have been quite a lot to go through.”

Eugene chuckled. “Oh, yeah. I know it sounds a little crazy, with all the magic and whatnot-”

“Trust me, I have heard all about that magic. The story of the magic healing flower has been passed down through generations.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, there have been myths about the Sundrop for millennia. It’s impressive that you got to see it in action.”

Eugene pressed his thumb into the palm of his left hand, rubbing it thoughtfully. The Sundrop’s powers were nothing compared to the way Rapunzel made him feel like his heart was bursting whenever she smiled, but that was neither here nor there.

“So, you are in love with the Princess, right?”

Eugene choked on his breath, then let out a shaky laugh. “Th-the Princess? Who? In love? Pfft, I don’t- I wouldn’t- I’ve never even met- I mean, I uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered, his hands fidgeting uncomfortably. Nice one, Fitzherbert, that was really convincing . Apparently, he completely lost his ability to lie when he stopped thieving. Fantastic .

Xavier simply smiled lightly. “The way you talk about her, it is easy to tell.”

Eugene sighed and shrugged halfheartedly. “It doesn’t matter, she’s with her family now. I couldn’t come in the way of her happiness.”

“Maybe her happiness is you, too.”

“Even then, a princess can’t be with a criminal. That’s just… that’s how it is.”

“Would a ‘criminal’ go around to everyone in town just to atone for every crime he once committed?”

Eugene’s gaze fell to the ground. He was trying to fix his past mistakes, but that doesn’t mean his mistakes didn’t happen. No matter how much he wanted to be a better person, he couldn’t undo what he had done.

After a brief silence, Xavier rested his hand on Eugene’s shoulder. “Well, Eugene, I’m glad you’re focusing on doing the right thing these days. And thank you for the story.”

Eugene had gone to all the townspeople and made amends within 3 months. Everyone was surprisingly receptive to his apologies, which made it easier. He still got the occasional glare as he walked down the street, but he did his best to ignore it. He had done what he could. He didn’t need everyone to like him, he just wanted to right his wrongs.

After he finished making his amends, he went back to the cobbler shop and took the job that Feldspar had offered him. He never would have guessed it, but he had a knack for making shoes. Having an honest job was new to him, but it was a welcome change.

6 months after he and Rapunzel had first returned to Corona and his crimes were pardoned, he had a steady job and was getting along the best he could with the others in the kingdom. Life was going pretty well for him, all things considered.

He was walking to work one day when a group of kids ran up to him with excited smiles on their faces. “Eugene!” Seth called out, waving his arm as he ran up to the man.

“Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Can you tell them the story you told me last week?” the boy asked, gesturing to the other kids following him. “They don’t believe me.”

He smiled and sat down on the edge of the fountain in the street. He had a little bit of time before he had to get to work, right? “Alright, just a quick story,” he said. “This is the story of how I died,” he recited, sweeping an arm in front of himself. He stuck with that introduction whenever he told the story; he liked the way people reacted to the line. The kids’ eyes widened, and they sat on the ground in front of him, already completely engaged in what he was saying. “Well, don’t worry, it’s actually a very fun story, and the truth is it’s not even mine. This is the story of a girl named Rapunzel, and it starts with the sun…”

The kids hung onto his every word as he recounted the tale of the weirdest and best days of his life. He chose his words carefully, though, and made sure to keep out the part where he fell in love with Rapunzel. That small detail made the story seem more like a tale of lost love than the fun and rousing adventure that it was.

When he finished the story, his audience of children (and a few adults nearby that were pretending not to listen) looked stunned. “Whoa,” one kid said. “What happened to the chameleon?”

Eugene couldn’t help but smile at how the frog was the kid’s most important takeaway from the story. “Well, that little guy is still with the Princess,” he said. “And he’s living it up in the castle, blending into things just like he loves to do.”

Seth smiled excitedly. “You know, the Princess is coming into town today! Maybe you two can reunite now!”

“She— what?”

“Yeah! They announced that she’ll have a day in town before her coronation celebration!”

Eugene plastered on a smile but felt his stomach plummet. He didn’t know if he could see her without becoming a complete mess. He had been avoiding his feelings for months, but he was positive his resolve would break the second he saw her.

Besides, she wouldn’t want to see him. She had a whole new life, she must have moved on. He wasn’t going to hold her back, that wouldn’t be fair to her. She’d been living outside her tower for months, she probably didn’t think about him the way he constantly thought about her.

“Well, I should get to work, but it was great talking to you guys,” he said, standing up. The kids bid him goodbye, and he made his way to the cobbler shop. Making shoes would help distract him from thinking about Rapunzel. He just needed to focus on his work, everything would be fine.

“Did you hear the Princess is supposed to be in town today?” Feldspar said later that day. “I’ve heard you used to be friends with her,” he added with an eyebrow wiggle.

Eugene did his best to grin casually. “I heard, but I think I’m going to stay back. I’ve got a lot of shoes to finish.”

“Good on you! You know what we say in the shoe business: stitches before bi-”

“Whoa whoa whoa, you really shouldn’t call a princess that. Or anyone, for that matter.”

“I’m not just saying it about the Princess, it’s just an expression. All I’m saying is that in general, shoes should come first!”

Eugene didn’t bother arguing. He turned his attention back to the shoe he was working on. He didn’t have any interest in romance right now, given that he was still deeply in love with a girl he could never be with. That put a bit of a damper on his romantic life.

Later that day, a crowd gathered near the shop as it was announced that the Princess would be passing by. “Are you sure you don’t want to see her?” Feldspar asked. Eugene shook his head.

“I’m alright here,” he insisted.

Feldspar shrugged. “Well, I’m going. I’ve got to see what kind of shoes the Princess likes so I can make plenty of them.” He walked confidently out the door, and Eugene didn’t have the heart to tell him that the Princess didn’t wear shoes at all.

He immersed himself back into the work he was doing, shoving away the thoughts of Rapunzel clouding his head. That wouldn’t help anyone.

And still, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing out the window in the front of the store to see if he could spot her. As much as he tried not to care, his heart stopped when he caught a glimpse of her in the street. She was surrounded by guards, and she looked… sad. She had a smile on her face, but something about it seemed distant.

When they had been in town on her birthday, she had found so much joy in talking to everyone around town. Now, with guards on every side of her, all she could do was smile and wave at the citizens. No wonder she seemed so sad.

He noticed something in her expression change, and he couldn’t figure out why until he realized what she saw. She was looking directly at him through the window. Oh.

His heart quickened. He wasn’t sure what to do now. Should he wave? Should he pretend he didn’t see her? They both stared at each other through the window for a moment, neither of them moving, until she was pulled away by the guards.

When she was out of his line of vision, he sighed heavily and leaned against the table in front of him, trying to steady his breath. He wouldn’t let one moment of eye contact ruin him.

“You’re never going to believe this,” Feldspar yelled as he threw open the door of the shop. “She doesn’t even wear shoes!”

As it turns out, just a moment of seeing her was, in fact, all he needed to be completely wrecked. He didn’t think about how much he missed her until he saw her in person again.

Eugene was lying awake in bed that night, unable to stop thoughts of her from infiltrating his head. He couldn’t fall asleep just because he had seen her for maybe 10 seconds that day. He couldn’t even be surprised, he had always known this was exactly what would happen when he let himself think about her.

What hurt most was how unhappy she looked. Before, he was able to convince himself that she was happy in the castle, so he couldn’t keep her from that happiness. But she wasn’t happy. She was trapped again. She was being kept from what made her happy, and to make matters worse, there was nothing he could do about it.

A soft knock at the door momentarily pulled him out of his hole of wallowing in self-pity. He furrowed his brow and sat up. Who would be at his house this late? It was the middle of the night, who could possibly need him right now?

He got up and walked to the door, grabbing his sword on the way (he wasn’t sure why, it’s not like an intruder was going to knock on the door first). When he opened the door, his eyes widened as he saw who was waiting there. “Rapunzel?”

“Hi,” she greeted softly.

“What are you doing here? Are you okay?” Instinctively, he reached out to touch her face, tossing his sword to the side. She smiled softly and leaned into his hand.

“My friend Cass helped me sneak out,” she said. That didn’t answer either of his questions, but he moved on anyway.

“Why did you sneak out?”

“Being a princess is… great , but it- it’s just a lot. And I needed time away from the castle.”

Eugene paused, his eyebrows creasing with concern. He wished he had been there to help her. He had been afraid she was going to struggle assimilating into the life of a princess, and he should have been there.

And now she’s standing in front of him, looking scared and tired and excited all at the same time. She had a dark hood over her head, covering her face in shadows. He knew the King would have him killed if he found out that Rapunzel had run away to his house in the middle of the night, but at that moment he couldn’t even pretend to care. “Do you want to come in?”

She smiled and nodded, and he stepped aside to let her in. She looked around as she walked in, taking in every detail of the room. “This is a nice place,” she remarked.

Eugene shrugged. “It’s not very exciting, but it’s much nicer than anywhere I’ve lived before,” he said with a grin, then added, “I’m sure the castle is much fancier than this, though. And probably complete with lots of beautiful paintings by Princess Rapunzel herself.”

Rapunzel blushed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I’ve had a lot of new space to paint in my room,” she said. “I could probably paint a little in here if you’d like!”

“As much as I’d love that, I don’t think you want to spend your one night out of the castle painting my house,” he responded with a slight chuckle.

Her eyes fell to the floor as she rocked back and forth on her feet. “Oh, yeah,” she said under her breath.

“So, speaking of that,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. “Where are you going now that you’ve run away?”

She paused for a moment, then let out a small laugh. “I don’t know,” she said. “I just knew I had to come here, I didn’t think of what I’d do after that.”

“Well, if you don’t have any plans,” Eugene said with a grin. “How about I take you on a quick trip out of the kingdom?”

Her eyes widened. “Out of the kingdom? Like, past the wall?”

The King would absolutely kill him for this. And yet, he still could not care less. “Yeah, we can get out for tonight, then back in before anyone notices. What do you say?”

The bright smile he got in return could rival the sun itself. “I would love to.”

Eugene quickly pulled his boots on, and they headed out the door. Once they were out in the open, a familiar horse came into view. Maximus snorted as he met Eugene’s eye. “Hey, Max! Didja miss me?”

Max closed his eyes and shook his head aggressively. Eugene patted his head. “I missed you, too.”

“Max helped me leave the castle without being seen,” Rapunzel said, scratching the horse’s chin. “And he agreed to bring me here.”

“So then where’s the frog?”

“Pascal and Cass are both at the castle making sure no one knows I’m gone.”

“Wow, Blondie, you’ve got quite a network for your scheme,” he teased lightly. She giggled softly, her eyes lighting up at his nickname for her. “Well, we can’t have that all be for nothing! Let’s get going,” he said, sticking his arm out for her.

She grabbed it happily, and they climbed onto Max’s back to quickly and quietly make their way to the border wall. Max stayed ducked in shadows and trotted carefully to make sure his hooves didn’t make too much noise when guards would pass nearby.

They climbed over the wall, collectively heaving a sigh of relief once they made it out of Corona. They were past the guards and the wall, and now they had the rest of the night to explore the world outside of Corona.

Rapunzel’s smile grew with every step she took, looking around at the forest around her. The stars were hanging in the sky, shining down on her. Fireflies dotted the trees around them. The river next to her was flowing smoothly, the rushing adding peaceful background noise to the scene. “Wow,” she whispered, completely enamored by her surroundings. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

“Yes, I have,” Eugene answered without thinking, staring at the girl in front of him. Her green eyes were full of the same joy they had when she first left her tower. He could feel his heart doing cartwheels in his chest every time she smiled. The gentle breeze was hitting her face and letting her short hair wave back and forth.

She turned back to him and beamed at him. “Come on, we have so much more to see!” She grabbed his hand and rushed forward, and he was more than happy to be dragged along in her journey.

She stopped to study every new plant or tree she saw, and she made sure to greet every animal that came into her path. She skipped excitedly through the forest, constantly making note of things that she would need to paint next time she got the chance.

After a few hours, she found a soft section of grass and sat down, her legs stretched out as she leaned back on her arms so she could get a good view of the stars in the sky. She patted the ground next to her, gesturing for Eugene to lie down next to her. He did, but he was paying more attention to Rapunzel than he was to the stars.

“There are so many of them,” she whispered. “I learned the other day that they’re all distant piles of gas, far away from here. I guess it puts everything into perspective, thinking about how on that star, no one even knows who we are.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. From the perspective of a star millions of lightyears away, they were just specks. Not a princess and a criminal, but just… people. People that were sharing one moment together, just like millions of other people in the world.

She looked over at him and grabbed his hand. He smiled and leaned in closer to her. Her eyes fell shut as they drew closer to each other.

Then without warning, her eyes shot open and she moved away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said quickly, standing up and wrapping her arms around herself.

Eugene took a quick breath in, standing up and taking a step backward to give her a distance. “I- I’m so sorry, Rapunzel, I shouldn’t have tried to-”

“You left,” she interrupted quickly, her eyes gradually filling with tears.

“What?” His eyes flitted over her face, trying to decipher how she was feeling. She didn’t seem scared or mad, just... hurt. He felt a pang in his chest knowing that he was the reason she was feeling like that.

“You left, and you didn’t say goodbye. And they told me you were gone, and I didn’t believe them because I was sure that you would tell me when you left. But you didn’t,” she said quietly, her voice breaking with every word.

He didn’t answer for a moment, trying to remember how to speak. He should have known that she would have felt abandoned when he left without a word. He had been so sure he had made the right choice when he left, but looking at her now, he realized he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Looking back on it, his choice to not tell her when he was leaving the castle was entirely selfish. He couldn’t handle seeing her again, couldn’t trust himself to not run to her. So he had slipped away, hoping that he wouldn’t have to deal with his own heartbreak seeing her face one last time before he went.

And here she was. He had left her behind without a word, yet she still came to him. After he abandoned her and completely cut himself off from her, she came back. That was what hurt most. He knew she deserved better than him. She deserved someone that would have the guts to see her one last time despite the world pushing them apart. It hurt that she was willing to come back to him after he hurt her.

And still, he loved her. He wanted to go back and fix all his mistakes and find a way to be with her. Ever since he had left months ago, there was not a day that went by where he didn’t think of her. It killed him that he had hurt her when all he wanted to do was sweep her up in his arms and hold her so nothing could ever hurt her again.

She was looking at him with wide eyes as his throat dried up. His mind was swirling with all the thoughts and feelings he had tried to keep buried for months. He loved her. He wouldn’t blame her if she hated him and never felt the same way about him, but he loved her with his entire being. And he had no idea how to tell her that.

“Rapunzel, I’m so sorry I never said goodbye when I left. I had to leave to let you start your new life, but I thought it would be easier for both of us if I could just leave-”

“It wasn’t,” she said. “It wasn’t easier. I had no idea what I was doing, and all I did was wish you were there beside me.”

He let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Trust me, Blondie, I felt the same way. I wanted to be by your side, and it hurt that I couldn’t be there with you.”

“It hurt me, too.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s… it’s not your fault that you had to leave,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. She stepped towards him and grabbed his hand hesitantly. “But I missed you so much.” She took another step closer, and he could almost feel her breath on his face. She was just inches away, and he tried to ignore his heart pounding out of his chest.

“I missed you, too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But we should-”

The rest of his sentence was completely lost as she grabbed his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. His eyes widened, then immediately fell shut as he let his composure completely fall away. He pulled her closer, wishing he could live in this moment for the rest of his life.

He knew they shouldn’t be doing this. The King had tried to keep them apart for a reason, and they would have to leave each other behind again after tonight. But at that moment, he didn’t care about any logic. All he cared about was trying to communicate everything he felt about her through one kiss. Feeling her lips pressed against his was all that mattered to him. They had both been wishing they could be just like this for months, and being able to hold her felt like a dream.

They softly broke apart from the kiss, but their faces remained close together as they tried to catch their breath. She smiled at him, and he rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything when I left, and I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there with you.”

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “It’s okay,” she whispered, casting her eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I had to be the princess and separate us-”

“No, hey, don’t apologize for finding a new life, your real life,” he said, putting his fingers under her chin and softly tilting her head up to look into her eyes. “All that matters to me is that you’re safe and happy with your family.”

“But you’re part of my family. I’m happy with you,” she said, her eyes starting to water. He reached up to wipe a stray tear off her face.

“And I’ll always be here for you, Blondie. Princess or not, I’m always supporting you, even if it’s from afar.”

She sighed and leaned her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him. They stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying each other’s presence while they could. They were acutely aware that the night would end sooner than they wanted it to, and they would have to go their separate ways yet again. It would be the same as before, but it hurt even worse now that they had gotten a taste of what they were missing.

But he would still love her no matter what. Even if they were apart for the rest of their lives, he still loved her more than he ever thought possible.

The night would end soon, and so would their time together. She would go back to the castle, he would go back to his house. He couldn’t do anything to change their situation, all he could do was hold her tighter and hope that the memories of her would keep him grounded.

Rapunzel looked up at the sky, her brow crinkling when she realized how soon the sun would rise. “We still have time tonight,” she said quietly. She didn’t know what would happen to them when the night ended, but she could only hope this wasn’t the end.

“Then let’s make the most of it,” Eugene replied, grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently.

Their eyes met, and he smiled at her. Every glance at her twisted his heart more, but he wouldn’t dare look away.

Despite everything, she was the love of his life, and he was hers. And even if he couldn’t be by her side, he wouldn’t trade that love for anything.

#tangled #new dream #fanfic #my writing #tangled the series #i was originally going to post this for eugene appreciation week like. 2 months ago.#clearly that did not happen #but here it is now :^)

55 notes · View notes

persephone-andromeda · 3 years

Text

Three Words (ii)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Three words shatters the potential for a relationship but will it be able to recover?

Warnings: Angst, reader calls Bucky ‘James’, fluff at the end, reader cleans his arm????

A/N: ANYWAYS GUESS WHO FORGOT TO UPDATE THIS FIC....Me. Lmao here’s part two and the final of this two parter. Enjoy!

He’s gone before you work up the courage to face him. You made progress yesterday by being in the same room with him but by the time you opened your mouth to speak, he left the room. You don’t blame him. You hurt him and you deserve it. Wanda doesn’t agree but while she can see everything that’s happened, she can’t understand, not really.

That’s why you don’t bother telling anyone. Why would you when no one can truly understand what you’ve been through? James can’t but you don’t want him to. He isn’t the only one.

So you wait and stare at your phone with fingers hovering over the keys as you try to type out what you could possibly say to him that would make it better.

Me: Hi. I wanted to apologize to you.

You sigh but it is a start. It’s not like he’s going to go out of his way to talk.

Me: I know you’re busy with the mission but maybe after you come back, we could talk? If you want to because I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to hate me forever.

You can practically hear Wanda’s voice chastising you for typing that out. You’re glad she isn’t here to give you a lecture on it. No guilt tripping. That won’t make anything better. You backtrack.

Me: I know you’re busy with the mission but maybe after you come back, we could talk? I owe you an explanation.

It feels too intimate, even though it’s simple and to the point. It shouldn’t all just be in one conversation either… You backtrack again.

Me: I know you’re busy with the mission but maybe after you come back…

You huff and toss your phone down on the bed. There was no using overthinking it. You’d look at it again tomorrow. You look at the clock in your room, 9:12 pm, and you sigh again. You switch off the lamp and decide to try to sleep.

But you wish that Wanda was here to help. 5 days without her soothing presence has been watching a papercut bleed out and you’re too tired to put a Band-Aid on to try to stop it. You’re too tired for anything these days, even before she left. But that night on the roof stargazing was the first time you felt okay. You laughed, smiled and were content in the silence. You never should have left.

You jump when you hear the voices coming from the hallway and it takes you a moment to realize that you had fallen asleep. You sit up and look at the time, 2:43 am. At least you got some. You sit up and once you get to the door, you realize that you didn’t even feel for the safety of the knife under your pillow. You swallow and sit with that realization for a moment before you open the door.

The voices are quieter now, but you can hear Wanda from the living room so that’s where you head. But you stop once you see that she isn’t alone. Sam is arguing with Steve while Wanda is attempting to calm them down.

“This isn’t helping!” She practically shouts. “We need to remind him that-”

She stops as she senses you lingering. She nudges Same and Steve towards your figure and you cast your eyes around the room before you land on James in the corner. Even from your place, you can tell that something has happened. He’s being too meticulous in cleaning his arm. Before you know it, you’re there with him.

“Let me do it. You’ll get cotton fibers stuck again.” You almost demand, knowing that he will.

He looks up at you and even in the dim lighting, the shattered pieces of his soul stare back at you. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen that. He hands it to you and you turn on the lamp between you as you start to clean.

You still hear the other three bickering, but their voices are quieter than before. There isn’t a lot to clean but you’re still careful to avoid getting anything stuck in his arm.

“They knew me,” he says quietly.

You pause for a moment but then start cleaning again.

“HYDRA agents?”

“Yes. They weren’t supposed to be there.”

While you don’t know the full details of the mission, you know that there have been whispers of a few remaining small cells of HYDRA operatives lingering and operating. They must have been investigating one or another operation in close proximity.

“Did you have to turn?”

The plates tighten a bit and you’re glad you moved the cloth away in time. That means yes. Once the plates loosen again, you go back in.

“It isn’t you fault, you know,” you start, and you know he’s going to interrupt so you look up at him. “James, let me finish.”

He shuts his mouth ad you go back down to clean the last remaining spots.

“It will never be your fault. Choice was taken from you, as it was from me. We were both made into something monstrous. It isn’t our faults, even though we try to justify it.” You hold his metal arm up to the light to see if there’s anywhere else you missed. “I don’t hate you. I hate my circumstances and how I feel.”

You gently let his metal arm rest on the arm of the seat as you drape the cloth on the table. You turn to see that the three have left so you turn back to him.

“I hate myself so much and sometimes I think that I won’t ever stop feeling that way. I’ve hurt so many people and some days I can’t find the strength to get out of bed.” You swallow, feeling it all start to spill out. “You’re not the only one and you’re not alone.” You sniffle.

You then start to fiddle with the locket for something to occupy your shaking hands.

“This locket is the only proof I have that I was normal, that I had a family. It is my greatest treasure, and I don’t ever want to forget this again because then they’ll win.”

You look away from him because you know he’s looking at you. You wipe your eyes and clear your throat. You try to shove the emotions back down into their cage, but everything is out there now. He knows. He might still hate you at the end, but your explanation is there. It’s up to him now.

The warmth of his flesh hand is against your wrist, but you cannot look back at him just yet.

“That is why you wanted me to ask,” he says. “You never got a choice.”

You nod.

“I know it sounds silly, but I never had a real first kiss. I wanted it to be of my own volition.”

He retracts his arm and then once you feel that you have composed yourself, you look at him.

“I understand, (Y/N).”

A weight is lifted off of your chest and just three words mean everything. So simple yet exactly what you needed. You feel the tears come again but you have to turn away to wipe them off of your face.

“I should have told you, but I was scared,” you explain as your voice wavers from emotion. “I don’t like to talk about it because no one can truly understand, not even Wanda.”

He’s quiet for a moment and you turn back to him once you can.

“She can only help so much too.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Any progress is progress, no matter how small.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that.

“I swear she got that off of a motivational poster or something.”

You snort and use a tissue to blow your nose.

“Maybe.” You sniffle again but you feel better. Your heart hasn’t entirely healed but it a step. Progress is progress, no matter how small. “I listen to ocean sounds sometimes to help me sleep. Maybe it’ll help you.”

He nods and then he stands with the cloth.

“I need to go clean up and sleep but…thank you.”

You look up at him and the shattered pieces are staring to come back together.

“You’re welcome, Bucky.”

You hear his footsteps depart and you look at the lamp’s light for a few moments before you hear him again.

“(Y/N)?”

You turn to find him slightly lingering in the shadows.

“Yes?”

He’s fiddling with the fraying ends of the cloth before he speaks.

“Would you like to go out sometime?”

A choice and it’s yours to take. You smile.

“Of course. I’d like that.”

His grin makes it worth it. Maybe you could say another three words in the future, better ones.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes x reader #bucky x reader series #james barnes x reader series #bucky #barnes #the-reclusive-writer writes

61 notes · View notes

forthehpfanboys · 4 years

Text

You're An Idiot

Pair: Draco Malfoy x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Draco is being a brat.. Again. No one's surprised when you run into him after getting back late from Hogsmeade. Also, the reader is Hermione's older brother.

Warnings: SMUT (MDI). Just- get the holy water. Swearing, oral, Sassy Hermione?? Still doesn't follow the movies or the books or anything. If I forgot any, please dm me.

Note: Requested! And Bottom Draco-I was up all night typing this. God, I am so sorry for the grammar and crap when I first posted this. I fixed it up, so it should be better!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

Being Hermione's older brother meant you usually had to deal with a lot of shit, especially since she'd drag you on adventures with the Golden Trio. She'd always use the promise you made to your parents in your face. Yeah. You had sworn you'd protect the younger Granger when she first started going to the school. At the time, you didn't know that'd mean every single bloody year.

Since you were a year older then the Golden Trio, you ended up resolving problems and fixing some of their mistakes and reminding them to sleep during particularly stressful days. You could've swore the four of you just attracted problems better than magnets attract metal. Of course, you wanted them to be safe and healthy, but one little bleached ferret always made it hard. That ferret, of course, was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.

Stupid Draco Malfoy who always managed to look top notch in anything he wore and Godric what you'd do to get that ferret on his knees, ruin his pretty hair and- You probably shouldn't be thinking this in the dinner hall, especially since you were sitting next to your sister. Speaking of your sister, she turned to you, a smile on her face.

"So, (Y/n). I was curious if you wanted to come with us to Hogsmead this weekend? Harry got Sirius to sign for him and Professor Magonagall accepted it under the circumstances." Hermione's voice rang through your skull as she spoke, your head already nodding up and down. It'd be a nice little break, especially during your 7th year.

"Of course I'm down, Mione!" you wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to her side. "You know I'll use any excuse to be with my favorite bunch of idiots." you messed up her hair, causing her to smack your hands away and almost shove you off the bench.

You let out a laugh, completely oblivious to the Slytherin staring at you from across the room with the most desperate expression on his face. You shoved your sister back, a smirk growing on your face as she fell from the bench.

"Haha! Payback!"

"Not funny, (Y/n)!"

"Yes it is, Mione! You should know by now I'm always gonna get revenge!" you ran a hand through your hair, shooting her a smile. The two boys who sat across from you nodded in agreement.

"He's right, Herman. (haha, reference-) It is pretty funny." Ron smiled, holding his fist out for you to bop.

The week seemed to pass with ease, allowing the weekend and it's snowy fun to arrive without hesitation. You trudged out in the snow, leading the trio of 6 years to Hogsmead. You hummed a muggle Christmas song deep in your throat as you walked, looking up at the snow covered signs.

"Where should we go first, children? Hogs Head? Honeydukes? What ya kids feeling?" One thing you absolutely ADORED was teasing about the age difference between you and the trio.

"We're not children!" Ron shouted, his arms crossing over his bulky winter jacket.

"Yeah! Besides, even if we weren't totally responsible adults, we'd wanna go to the Hogs Head, right guys? Get a butter bear or two?" Harry spoke up, moving his scarf down to speak properly before putting it back over his mouth and nose.

"Uh Huh. Sure." You snickered, your hands shoved in your pocket of your pants. You'd given Hermione your jumper, leaving you in a scarf, fingerless gloves and your long sleeve t-shirt.

The four of you got interrupted by a line of people literally blocking your path. It was none other than the stupidly pretty Draco and his 'gang' stood in front of you, arms crossed like a bunch of wanna be badasses.

"Well, well, if it isn't Potter and his 3 little blood traitors." Draco spoke, his voice filled with smugness and his face dragged in a cocky smirk.

God, did you wanna get revenge against that stupid smirk.

"Oh, please Malfoy. You do this almost every week. Just admit you have a crush on Harry and move on." You spoke, taking a step toward him. The ferret's smirk faltered and turned into a scowl.

"Oh please. As if I'd stoop low enough to like someone like Potter." Draco all but gagged at the idea of dating the messy haired rival and you wondered what he'd look like gagging on your stick. It suddenly became a little warmer in the winter atmosphere.

"Then you have an unhealthy obsession, mate." Ron spoke up, his arms crossed. "Might wanna get that fixed and leave us be."

"Yeah, Malfoy. We're trying to have a good day and you're ruining it with your ugly mug." Hermione spoke up, causing you to feel nothing but pure pride. She'd changed a lot from the shy girl she used to be in 1st year.

Crabb or Goyle, you didn't care to learn their names, stepped forward, causing you to instinctively step in front of your friends. Malfoy scoffed again, looking you up and down before turning his head.

"Whatever." the blonde pureblood spoke as he began walking away, his posse turning to follow, but not without shooting you one last glare.

"Yeah, you... You better leave?" You spoke, confusion clear in your voice. Usually you'd be inches from his face, shouting about the shit antics his father pulled before he backed down. Turning to the other three, you shrugged and led them to Hogsmead, hoping to escape the cold.

Once inside, you all ordered a warm glass of butterbeer as you picked a table by the fireplace. Taking your first sip immediately warmed you up, a sigh leaving your lips.

"Godric Gryffindor. I haven't felt warmth in what felt like forever." You said cooly, smirking to your sister. "I wonder why I would be oh, so cold."

"Ok. We get it. I forgot my jacket. Stop it." The brunette responded, causing Harry to almost choke on his drink and for Ron to snort. You faked a gasp, your hand going to your chest in mock shame. You'd been teasing her about it almost the entire way there.

"Such sass!" You shook your head. "What would mom and dad say?"

"They'd say you deserve to shove it."

"Oh, come now, sister of mine! Don't be a stick in the mud!"

The two friends sitting across from the Granger siblings sat in silence. This was some of the best entertainment they get during the week and they always savored it.

"I'm not being a stick in the mud, you're just being a dick."

"Well you know what they say. You are what you eat-"

Ron and Harry didn't even miss a beat. They broke out laughing together as Hermione shouted, her face a pinkish color.

"(Y/N)!!"

"What? We all know it's true!"

"Merlin's beard you suck."

"That's the point, sis."

"Go- stop. Please. I'm begging you."

"Ok! Ok." you chuckled out, raising your hands in defeat.

You and the trio managed to keep up the conversation easily, but as time went on, it was time to go back, well, that's what you told them. It was time for the kiddos to go back and finish their homework so they had tomorrow to actually relax. Of course, this caused Harry and Ron to groan and whine, but Hermione finally convinced them, saying she'd help.

You let out a sigh and leaned back in your chair, your eyes falling closed. The stupid blonde hottie has been raging in your head for what felt like forever, so you weren't surprised when he popped up behind your eyelids again.

You truly didn't want to admit it, but you'd liked the jerk since he popped up randomly in your second year. He was a twat to your sister and her friends, but somehow he slithered into your heart and head all the stupid time.

Over time like turned to crush, crush turned to yearned, yearned turned to lust, because it certainly wasn't love. That's what you convinced yourself as you tossed your head back, swallowing the last of your fourth butterbeer.

You sat in front of the fire for a few more minutes before you stood up, placed some coins at the end of your table to pay for the drinks and left the restaurant, venturing out into the snow.

It was colder before, thanks to the sun setting over the castle. Shrugging off the cold, you walked down the familiar path back to Hogwarts. You tightened the scarf around your face as a particularly cold breeze blew past you. Once the entrance of the castle came up, you all but jogged to the door, ripping it open. The inside was warmer, thank Merlin.

You were suddenly grateful for the 7 years you'd spent at Hogwarts. You were able to mindlessly walk the halls and make it to the staircase leading up to the Fat Lady's portrait. As you were trudging up the steps, you noticed a A flash of a shadow duck past a knight.

"Oh, ok. Cool. Filch’ll just kill me. Awesome." you grumbled, hurrying up the stairs as quietly as you could, but we're quickly halted. The shadow wasn't Filch or his crazed cat. It was Malfoy.

Of course it was Malfoy. We gotta get to the good stuff somehow, right?

...

Anyway, you sensed he was up to no good considering he should be in the Slytherin Common Room probably sleeping and not sneaking around by the Gryffindor one. You crossed your arms over your chest, watching the blonde keeping his head turned to watch his back as he climbed the same steps you were on.

"Malfoy."

"AAH-"

You all but lunged to cover his mouth with one hand, the other going to the back of his neck to keep him still. "Shut it, you git! Do you want to get caught?" your eyebrows furrowed together as you pressed him to the stairs railing, trying to intimidate the younger male.

What you didn't know was that this was waayy to hot for Malfoy to comprehend. His back went rigid at your touch and his breathing all but stopped as he stared into your (e/c) eyes.

"Well, do you?"

Your hushed voice snapped Draco out of his trance, causing him to shake his head.

"Good, then keep your voice down. What are you doing out here anyway?" you spoke, moving your hands away from him, much to his dismay. He was just grateful you didn't back away. He liked your body against his.

"I was uh-well, I was trying to.. Find the bathroom." He usually kept his composure, but he was failing miserably. He usually kept it together so well but now.. Now Draco was struggling. He was not going to admit he was on his way to sneak into the Gryffindor common room and leave you a love note. No. Why would he do that??

"The bathroom? It isn't up this set of stairs, ya idiot." you grabbed his arm, leading him down the stairs. "Besides, you should have a bathroom on your side of the school, so what are you really doing here?"

"What does it matter?" he spat out. "You obviously think you know everything." you rolled your eyes at his brattiness and walked over to the corridor glancing down it before pressing your back against the wall.

"What are you doing?"

"Shut it Malf-"

"No. I don't ha-"

"I said shut it or I will gag your mouth with your own fucking tie." you covered his mouth again, pressing him back against the wall. "Godric. Just put your ego away for 2 seconds."

Draco desperately wanted to say 'Make me, Granger' but he was lost in the idea of your threat coming true.

Satisfied at his silence, you watched one of the patrolling professors walk down the corridor and right past you two. Not spotting anyone or anything, they continued on before you swept him down the entrance.

"Ok. Come on." You whispered to him as you walked down the corridor. You were taking him to that one girls bathroom that no one goes into, ya know, with Myrtle. You were just hoping she was gonna be literally anywhere but that bathroom.

"Where are we going?"

"You said you wanted a bathroom, idiot. I'm taking you to one where you can piss in peace and leave me alone."

"I.. What?"

"Forget it, Malfoy." You took one more turn and finally saw the opening off the bathroom. "Ok. We're here." Of course Blondie had a problem though. He shot the (h/c) male a glare before scrunching up his nose.

"This is the girls lavatory."

"Oh, you think I care. Funny." you grabbed him by the shirt covering his shoulder and pushed him inside, following after his stumbling form.

"Don't touch me, Granger. I don't want whatever germs mud bloods carry." Draco scoffed, fixing his shirt and brushing off his shoulder, as if dirt was there.

"Call me that again and I won't hesitate to ruin that pretty face you cherish so much." You growled out, grabbing his shirt by the collar and pulling him toward you. "One day that silver tongue of ours is going to get you in a lot of trouble." Pushing him away from your figure, you turned toward one of the many mirrors lining the wall.

You looked at your reflection and fixed a strand of hair, then took off your scarf. It was warm in this bathroom. You folded the scarf and looked back into the reflective glass to see Malfoy smirking in the background.

"What?"

"You called me pretty." He had his arms crossed over his chest. Your aggravated tone did nothing to his smirk.

".. You're dumb as hell, ya know that?" you turned to face the male and his confidence seemed to shrink a little bit. You advanced toward him and he stepped backwards. He wanted to keep distance between you two in case a fight broke out. He'd seen you fight other people bigger than you and remembered how they were sent to the Hospital wing. "You're a twat. You're a self centered brat who thinks he rules this school."

He gulped when he felt his back press against the wall. "Yeah? And what are you going to do about it Granger?" Draco could feel the blood rush to his cheeks. You must've noticed his face turning Gryffindor red because next thing he knew, you were pressed up against him, pinning him to the wall. He felt his breath catch in his throat when your eyes glanced at his lips for a brief second.

"I might teach you a lesson." Your hands came at either side of his head, a dangerous smirk drawing across your lips. You leaned forward, your lips ghosting over his. "You have been such a brat lately. A punishment is in order, hmm?"

Draco's hands tried to grip the wall, his nails scraping against it. Fuck, the way your voice dropped sent blood from his cheeks to his dick almost immediately.

With that, you slammed your lips to his, causing a breathy whine to escape Draco's throat. You tilted your head, your tongue grazing across his lips as your hand slipped through his hair. The blonde wrapped his arms around your neck as he opened his mouth, his tongue meeting yours. With teeth clashing, your bodies pressed together and a hand in his hair, you easily gained dominance.

You pulled from the kiss, causing Malfoy to let out a protest.

"Shut it, brat." You grumbled, a hand covering his mouth as you planted a kiss to the side of his neck. "Besides, we're out past curfew. Would hate to get caught."

He could feel you smirk against his skin, your hand in his bleached locks tugging his head to the side so you had more room. He jumped a little when he felt you bite down on his neck. The younger man's eyes fell shut as you attacked his neck with love bites and hickeys.

Your hand covering his mouth moved to his cheek as you placed a kiss on a particularly big hickey.

"You ok?" your voice was soft and sweet against his ear. He nodded quickly, not wanting this to end, which only caused you to snicker. Draco blinked a few times in confusion when you placed your hands on his shoulders and began to push him down to his knees.

"I'd rather not kneel on the floor."

"Why not?"

"It's filthy!"

You stared at Draco for a few seconds before rolling your eyes and you shoved him down to his knees.

"I don't care if it's filthy. You have magic, don't you? Clean your knees when we're done. Simple." you smirked down at him, joy filling your heart. God, it genuinely felt good to see the cocky pureblood on his knees, his head turned in a silent protest.

One hand stayed on his shoulder, the other moved itself to the bulge between your legs. The groan that left your lips caught his attention. The hand against your bulge grounded down, causing you to groan.

"Oh, now I've got your attention?"

"Shove it, Granger."

"Now, now. That's no way to talk to me, I am older."

Draco rolled his eyes so hard you were sure they were gonna roll straight out of his head. But since this whole event was anything but straight, you figured it wouldn't happen that easily.

The man on his knees swatted your hand away and wasted zero time unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down around your knees. He stared at the bulge in your galaxy themed boxers, the tips of his ears turning a bright pink. He noticed the damp spot right by the tip and realized it was from him.

Suddenly, his confidence came back, and the blonde quickly began mouthing at your erection. With a rough groan, you rested your hand on top of his head and used the other stabilizing you against the wall.

"Go on, then. Don't be shy." You chuckled, gently ruffling his hair. The 6th year reached up, quickly pulling down your boxers to reveal your hard length.

"I'm not shy." When he finally met your eyes, you noticed his blue ones burning with a lust that you'd only wished to see in your dreams.

"Uh huh, then why aren't you sucking my dick, hmm?" You smirked, pushing your hips forward.

"I might bite it with the attitude you hold." The blonde spoke as he leaned forward, licking from the base to the tip in one, long swipe. You let out a sigh, your head slowly tipping backwards as his tongue grazed over the tip of your wood.

"You love my attitude. I bet you always have."

Draco wanted to mock you or laugh at you or something, but he knew you were right so instead, he sucked on your tip like it was a popsickle. He hallowed his cheeks and kept eye contact with you as he slowly took you into his mouth.

You let out a gasp at how hot it was. Visually and physically, it was so damn hot. Your grip tightened on his hair when his tongue ran along the vein on the bottom.

"Fuck- Ah, Draco-" You tried not to move your hips. After all, you didn't know how much experience he had, but it felt like he was pretty well off.

Draco, however, was focused on the way you said his name. It dragged a moan out of him. This might've been the first time he heard you say his first name and your gravely voice made it so wonderful.

The blonde on his knees suddenly wanted to hear you say it again. He closed his eyes, pulling back to take a breath before he pushed forward. The pureblood focused on trying to take you down his throat. His eyebrows furrowed together when he gagged and chose to ignore his tears.

"Oh shit!" you hissed out, your jaw dropping when you felt his nose press against your pelvis. "Draco, how the hell-?" you bucked forward when you felt him try to swallow around you. "Ooh, Godric!" you tossed your head back, your hand against the wall curling into a fist.

Draco pulled back and slowly went down on you again, a breathy whine leaving your throat.

"You are far too good at this, baby."

All too soon he was pulling off you completely, which causes you to whine and look down at him. He was looking down at his hands that rested in his lap.

"What? Did I say something wrong?" You asked, your head tilting to the side a little bit.

"No!" his head shot up to look at you, his eyes wide. "I mean.. No... No, I've just never been called something so.. Soft."

This caused your eyebrows to furrow together. "Huh. Well, let's change that. Come on." You stepped out of the pants pooled at your feet and held a hand out to him, which he took.

You gently led him over to the sinks, turning him around to face his reflection. "I got you." you whispered in his ear, causing him to shudder.

He nodded his head, looking down at the sink in front of him. The pureblood rested his hands against the porcelain. The 6th year's heart was pounding in his ears, his bottom lip becoming trapped between his teeth.

The blonde felt your hands run from the back of his neck, to his shoulders and down his back before finally landing on his hips. The wizard felt a heat pooling in his belly when he felt your hips press against his ass.

You reached around to his front, undoing his belt and slowly pulling it free from the loops before tossing it off to the side. He finally looked up at the mirror, taking in the reflection of his messy hair, swollen lips and your hands coming back to his front.

"I got you, Draco." Your voice was soft. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about anything." You smiled at him over his shoulder and winked before popping the button of his trousers open and allowed gravity to pull them down.

Malfoy gasped when you cupped his bulge, his hips automatically pushing forward. He'd been hard since you pinned him against the railing.

"(Y/n).." he whispered out, his mouth falling open when your thumb ran across the head of his cock.

"Yes, babe?" Your smile has turned into a knowing smirk. Blue eyes bounced between your hand and that devious smirk, Draco's brain conflicted on which sight was better. "Do you need something?"

He nodded his head, blonde locks bouncing.

"Please." his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Please? Please what?" Your fingers slipped past the elastic of his boxers, a false sense of innocence laced in your voice.

"Move- touch me- damnit, Granger, please."

You finally pushed his boxers down, your hands running along the front of his thighs before finally landing on what he wanted you to focus on. The blonde let out a sigh of your name when your hand finally wrapped around his dick.

A small smile stretched across his face once your hand started moving. The pleasure wasn't new, but was oh so welcomed. He was glad he finally got you.

You gave him a few pumps, allowing his precum to build up on your hand, making everything easier.

"There ya go, baby. So sweet." You whispered, kissing the back of his ear.

Draco brought a pale pink lip between pearly white teeth again, his hips pushing forward to get more.

The hand still resting on his hip came around to the front, gathered a bit of precum off the tip before slinking back around to the back. He used the pre like lube and pushed a finger into Draco's tight hole, causing him to emit a squeal and arch his back a little but.

"Oh, Godric. I'm so excited to wreck you, baby."

"(Y/n)!" he squeaked out as the finger went deeper. He bit his lip harder, the pain slowly dying out and being replaced with a burning pleasure.

You loved hearing your name being moaned like that, just like he enjoyed hearing his when he was suckin' on your lolli. You added a second finger, slowly thrusting them in and out to try and speed this along. You could only jerk someone off for so long anyway.

You licked your lips, a determined expression event on how badly you wanted him. Maybe eating his ass would've been more effective.

"Please hurry, I don't know how much more of this I can take-" his voice was higher in pitch, his hips pushing back against you. "Please-"

"Ok, baby, ok. No need to beg." you chuckled, removing your hands from their working positions. Gently rubbing your hand over one cheek, you spread it open enough to spit in it, just to be safe. "Ready?" your free hand grabbed your own dick pumping it a few times for good measure.

"I wouldn't be asking you to do it if I wasn't, now would I?" the blonde snapped back, glaring over his shoulder. How did he go from so innocent he's almost choking from one finger in him to being a demanding brat all over again?

You rolled your eyes and lined yourself up, carefully and slowly pushing in until you made it past the first ring of muscle. Both of you moaned at the feeling, your hands coming to rest against his hips as his head ducked down, his chin pressed against his chest.

You slowly pushed in deeper, a whine leaving his throat as the twisted pain came back. You reached around to grab his dick again and jerked him off a little bit more to try and counterbalance the pain.

Once you were all the way in, you just let him adjust. You kissed across his still clothed shoulders and neck, whispering encouraging words of praise.

The hand on his hip dragged itself upward, your eyes following it in the mirror. Once it made it to his chest, you cupped one of his pecs through the shirt, feeling his perky nipple pressing against your palm.

Grinding your palm down against his nipple and continuing to rub his dick, you slowly pulled out almost all the way before pushing back in with one sweep.

You literally left him breathless. He was staring at you through the reflection in the mirror, his mouth hanging open, his eyes glazed over with need, his hair a mess.

You built up a pave easily, deep and hard but slow and Draco loved every second of it. His toes curled in his boots, his back arched into your hands while his hips fought to figure out if they wanted to go forward into your hand or back into your dick. It truly was a conundrum for the twink.

"Such a good boy for me, aren't ya?" You spoke up after a while, your voice gravelly and rough and right in his ear. You let out a breathy laugh when he shuddered and moaned from that alone.

The two of you weren't concerned with the sound of skin hitting skin or your moans echoing around the hallow bathroom. You were busy, I don't blame you.

Soon enough, Draco was begging you to speed up, his release starting to creep it's way around. You nodded your head, resting your forehead against his shoulder as you spend your hips up, a grunt leaving your lips.

Draco let out a loud whine when your fingers pinched one of his nipples, his hands clawing at the walls as pleasure coursed through his veins.

"I'm gonna cum in you." You groaned against his back. "I'm gonna mark you as mine and you're gonna sit there and enjoy it."

Fuck yeah, he was.

Draco was nowhere near complaining. He'd been fantasizing of this and so much more for years. He, of course, blamed his hormones, but he knew the effect ran deeper than just lust.

Draco nodded his head. "Please-" he moaned out your name, his thighs trembling from the pleasure. He was getting closer and, honestly, so where you.

The pureblood was so warm and hugged you so right in all the right places and Albus mother-fucking Dumbledore where you getting more of this later.

This stupid cute blonde was so intoxicating it almost made you feel pathetic. Keyword is almost.

You sped up, chasing after your own release as it also reared its head around the corner.

"G-gonna cum-" Draco stuttered out, his voice cracking. One hand fell from the wall to the porcelain sink at his waist. "I-I'm.. Gonna-" he called out your name, loud enough for it to probably be heard by the Gryffindors, as he came.

He tightened and spasmed around you, his legs shaking and tiny moans leaving his throat as you helped him ride out his orgasm.

"Are you good?" You asked, rubbing his back and soon letting go of his soft dick when he deemed it was sensitive. "Do you want me to pull out?"

Draco shook his head, his ears noticeably red from behind him. "I want you to keep your promise."

He did not have to tell you twice. You went back to thrusting into him, both hands on his waist as you sought after your own orgasm. A few moans and groans from you later and you were cumming inside him.

You leaned into him, riding it out until his tight, hot ass became too much. You pulled out carefully, causing him to whine and twitch.

"Let's get you cleaned up, ok, Draco?"

The blonde nodded his head and allowed you to carefully and gently clean him up with a wet paper towel. It wasn't the lost romantic thing used to clean partners, but it was what you had.

After a few minutes of silence once you were cleaned and dressed you spoke up.

"So what.. Where are you doing by Gryffindor Tower, Blondie?" your hands ended up in your pockets again.

"Well I.." The pureblood reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out an envelope. "I was going to..."

"Draco, babe. I saw your 'o' face. Just tell me. You shouldn't be embarrassed." You snickered, obviously teasing the younger man.

He took in a deep breath and shoved the letter toward you.

"IwroteyoualetterexplaininghowIfeltaboutyouandhowIwassorryforhowItreatedyoursister-" he was going way too fast for you to understand anything.

"What? I can't.. I don't speak whatever this is."

"I.. Just read the letter!"

With that, you tore open the envelope. It was the love letter Draco was gonna leave by your bedside table.

The letter stated how he fell in love with you from a far over the years by watching you dominate in Quidditch, bringing light into the world with the Twins (let's be honest, imma throw them in this) and just.. Being you. Plus bickering with you was one of his favorite pastimes.

It also stated how he was sorry for treating Hermione so poorly and the citation with his dad and how he was raised.

The Slytherin was nervously wringing his hands together, a nervous expression on his face. "Umm.. Are.. You gonna say something?" his mental fingers were crossed.

You smiled, tilting your head a little bit.

"You're an idiot." You pulled him into a gentle kiss, your hand entangling with his. You casted him a genuine smile. "I like you too, Draco."

The blonde's face broke out in a matching grin and he all but jumped on you to give you another kiss. Once the two of you broke apart, your voice echoed in the bathroom once again.

"There's only one problem."

"What is it?"

"How do we tell Hermione?"

#draco malfoy x male reader #draco malfoy #Draco Malfoy imagine #male reader #x male reader #hp imagine #hp x male reader #hermione granger #harry potter #ron weasley #Ronny Writes #fic #hp male fic #hp fic

762 notes · View notes

96dys · 3 years

Text

hydrangea ; johnny seo

money makes the world turn. there was so much of it, and yet so few people ever saw it. maybe if it weren’t for the money, johnny might have acted differently. maybe his family’s badgering wouldn’t have weighed on him as much as it did. maybe he wouldn’t have taken you, because finding a wife this way wouldn’t have mattered. he didn’t like the circumstance, but he couldn’t keep himself from liking you—the dirt-poor girl who worried more about helping others than feeding herself.

ceo au

taglist: @tyongpoetry @xianxian95 @aaaaalex05

masterlist

02 | little prince

eating breakfast alone wasn't something that was very new to you, though it wasn't often that you were able to eat breakfast, let alone something this size. your stomach had begun to ache just looking at the size of the plate in front of you, but your eyes lit up in awe of the colorful array of fruits. of course, they were accompanied by an alarming amount of vitamins and supplements, just as you'd been asked to take the previous day. a glass of water was provided to help you wash it all down, which you gladly sipped on between bites.

for the sake of getting out of your bedroom, you'd asked to have your meal in the common area, though you did your best to keep yourself just as isolated. you sat with your legs crossed in front of the coffee table, mindful of the way the skirt of your pale pink dress fell upon your lap. despite being alone, you couldn't help but feel as though you were being watched at all times. the door was open but a crack, just enough for you to see staff members pass through the narrow hallway. the curtains had been pulled open, allowing the bright sunshine to wash over your figure. a peaceful silence filled the air, something you were especially fond of. jisung was very kind, but you weren't sure you'd be able to handle any more of his mindless chatter after this morning.

of course, he had offered to keep you company while you dined, but you were very quick to decline. as hard as you tried, you were unable to hide your haste, for he had just spent almost an hour talking your ear off about the most random details of the wedding to come in just two days. it had gotten to the point where you stopped trying to decide which information was important and what was not in favor of blocking it all out entirely. even as you stood under the warm stream of water flowing from the showerhead above, you could hear him muttering things to himself as he tidied up your bedroom. you most imagined this behavior was due to growing up without the presence of others his age--if anyone at all. while you did feel sympathetic toward the boy, you weren't used to the constant noise.

your previous life was fairly quiet, even at the tiny, makeshift school where you had spent all of your free time. there was always the odd occasion where a child or two would be exceptionally talkative, though most of the time the children were too malnourished to have the energy. it was a struggle to get the group to participate much at all, let alone speak amongst themselves. you tried your best to encourage your pupils to make friends with one another, but this wasn't something that was accepted with open arms. you couldn't even find it in yourself to be upset at them for this, given that your brother had been your only friend growing up; it was this way for most people you knew.

after a long day at the school, you would go home to an empty home. it was tiny and everything seemed to be falling apart, but it gave you a private space to unwind as much as you possibly could. you never cared to invite anyone over, nor did you have anyone to visit. it was lonely at first, but after a while the silence became very calming. perhaps this was because it was the only constant in your life; the only thing that would be waiting for you at home without fail. a meal was not always promised, nor was a new book to read, but there would always be a heavy silence ready to envelope you as you drifted off each night.

looking down at your plate, you noticed that it was nearly empty. oh how you wished your brother was there to fight you over what remained, like he used to when he was too young to understand how little your family truly had to go around. unless you finished your food with incredible speed, he would begin whining about how hungry he was, about how you needed to share with him. you would always shoot him a glare and questioned why he deserved to eat more than you did, which would only result in the little boy pinching the tender skin around your ankles. as you cried out in pain, he would quickly grab at the food resting atop your lap., smiling to himself as he bit into your food. this wasn't something you ever imagined yourself missing, although the change in circumstance caused the memory to become very fond.

after having your entire life uprooted against your will, you've found that many of the things you used to find so unpleasant have been on your mind. this was especially conflicting, as none of these were things you had to deal with within recent years. it almost made you sad to realize that there was nothing to your life that was worth missing; everything you cared for had been ripped from your fingers the moment all of your family members were gone. you longed not for the days you spent as an adult, but the miserable nights you spent as a child begging your father to stop yelling at you over whichever minor inconvenience had stressed him out that time.

perhaps the anger you felt toward your current situation was purely out of spite, though this only caused your heart to sink a little further down into your chest. was your life of so little meaning that you couldn't find a good reason to continue to be hateful? did you have so little back home that this new setting seemed only a little less than pleasant? the change was beyond unfair, yet you could only sigh knowing that you were likely better off here anyway. you wanted to do more--to lash out in anger, fear, or something--but you just couldn't.

a light knock floated through the air, causing you to dart your head toward the door. it had been pushed open, allowing johnny to lean against the frame. he was smiling down at you, like he was genuinely happy to see you a second time. your eyes widened ever so slightly, just enough to make him chuckle. you had been doubting his promise to make time for you everyday, so his presence came as a bit of a surprise. in all honesty, you figured that work would come first, making you an afterthought for him to tend to at the end of the day, but he was as early as he possibly could be without having interrupted your meal. it was as though he couldn't wait.

"i'm really glad to see that you've eaten," he spoke happily, glancing at your plate for a moment before returning his gaze toward your face. he could tell that you'd taken all of your vitamins as well, which made his smile widen just a bit. a wave of joy washed over him momentarily, knowing that you felt comfortable enough to do so without any resistance. he made a mental note to send someone to clean up the remains of your meal, though it wasn't like you had left much of a mess at all. "we don't have to leave now, but i'm ready whenever you are. i don't mind waiting in here for a little while if that's what you want to do."

you set your fork down on the edge of your plate and shook your head. there was nothing left for you to do here and therefore no reason to stay. standing up was a very slow process, as you had to be very cautious in your dress, but it felt nice to stretch your legs once you were able to do so. it was no surprise that you were fatigued already, but you hoped it wasn't very obvious to the man in front of you. he seemed unfazed, so you assumed he was unable to tell.

"please tell me there's less walking this time," you muttered, mostly to yourself.

johnny laughed in response as he took a step to the side, allowing you to pass through the doorway. it wasn't hard to fall in time with your lazy footsteps, yet continuing to keep your pace posed a bit of a challenge for someone with such long legs. he did his best, though he wound up a few steps ahead within a minute flat.

he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a white plastic card. he waved it around for a moment before returning it to its spot, smirking down at you.

"it's your lucky day; being with me means you get to use the elevator and not the stairs."

an elevator. you were unable to form a proper response. of course, you'd read about such a thing in a few of your old books, though you had yet to use one yourself. it wasn't very often you ever entered a building with two stories, let alone enough to warrant the installation of an elevator. you wondered why the little card was relevant, only to conclude a few moments later that it must be some sort of a key. then, you wondered why it would be restricted. if you were able to use the stairs without issue, what was the purpose of deeming the elevator off limits? if they accomplished the same thing, you would get to your intended destination regardless. maybe he felt that blocking off the stairs wasn't needed, given the likeliness of you getting lost before making it anywhere important.

for a brief minute or so, you found yourself feeling less than adequate. it wasn't that you felt an overwhelming need to impress anyone here, but it was quickly becoming evident that you truly knew so much less than he did. the rational part of your brain knew that there was no one to blame for this, and yet you couldn't help but think that you should've taken it upon yourself to learn more. just knowing how to read as fluently as you did was a feat in and of itself, but the accomplishment seemed meaningless in comparison to all the things you did not know. you didn't even want to think about how poor your math skills had to be next to his.

much to your surprise, it didn't take very long to reach the elevator either. you both stopped in front of two metal doors, causing you to stare curiously as he swiped the little card. you bit back a gasp as they pulled apart. when you were rushed down to the garden yesterday, you had assumed that these doors were different solely for decoration. remembering that johnny works in technology, you didn't feel that it would be very off to assume that he would have more of a futuristic sense of style. stepping into the little room though, you realized that this made much more sense.

each wall was mirrored, causing you to become lost in your reflection as the doors came to a close. you could see johnny press a button on the large panel to his right, though you failed to focus your attention on the action itself. you didn't bother to wrack your brain trying to figure out how the elevator began to move on its own just a few seconds later, as you were so entranced by the couple that stood before you. you were already well aware of the height difference, since it was so hard to ignore during a conversation with the man, but it was so much more interesting to see the both of you side by side. he looked like a giant standing next to your small frame.

his eyes met yours through the mirror, causing you to quickly look away. he only smiled at your response, waiting but a second more for the elevator to come to a stop at the correct floor. as the large doors slid open, he gestured for you to step out first. he wasn't worried about there being any trouble finding the library, as it was located directly across the hall. this in mind, he allowed you to lead the way, which you seemed more than happy to do.

he thought it was cute how your steps became so much lighter once the open doorway was in sight, how your eyes seemed to light up upon entering the large room. he watched as you stopped a few steps into the library, examining your features as you looked around. while he had been expecting a positive response, you surely didn't disappoint. your jaw was nearly on the floor as eyes the size of saucers scanned the maze of bookshelves.

just past the entrance was an area that resembled the common area; a large sofa sat opposite the door, which was paralleled by a coffee table of equal length. there was a chair positioned on either side, though the fourth side was left open. the furniture sat atop a beautiful floral rug, which distracted from the dull navy carpeting the rest of the room had been floored with. there were rows upon rows of shelves on the three sides in question, rows that seemed to go on for miles.

"a's start just to the right over there, i think," his voice rung in your ear, snapping you out of the book-induced trance you'd fallen into. he pointed in the general direction you needed to go, which was all the permission you needed to begin walking. you were too excited to respond, so you simply allowed him to follow your fast paced footsteps as you began searching for the book you wished to read.

you'd never seen so many books in your life, let alone all at once. your heart did jumping jacks in your chest at the realization that you could never possibly be bored here. maybe every storm cloud does have a silver lining. no matter how unhappy you might become in the future, you were certain that you would never run out of books to take your mind away from the world. you couldn't wait to get lost in each and every one.

"are you looking for anything specific?"

you could easily make out the curiosity woven into every word. his fancy shoes made a dull click clack noise against the thin carpet, the sound trailing behind you. it didn't sound like he was making an effort to match your swift pace, but then again, he didn't have to. his legs were so long, you knew he could easily match your fastest sprint with a brisk walk if he ever decided to try.

"no."

yes.

once you finally reached the aisle you were looking for, your eyes lit up. the section marked 's' was very large, but you were quick to find what you were looking for. given the letter combination, saint-exupéry happened to be toward the beginning of the section. however, it was out of your reach. even standing on the very tips of your toes, every book on the top shelf was just out of reach. sighing to yourself, you fell back on your heels.

"which one?" johnny asked, causing you to quickly turn your head.

you had been so lost in thought that the sound of his voice startled you, but his close proximity was even more surprising. there was maybe two inches between the both of you. his steady breaths felt warm against your neck even after you turned away. flustered, it took you a moment to respond. regardless of your feelings toward him, no man had ever been so close to you before; you weren't sure how to react.

"uh, it's on the top right there—the little prince," you answered finally. your voice came out a soft mumble.

he reached over your head and easily pulled your book away from the others. you assumed this was why he'd gotten so close, and you were correct. the moment he passed the book on to you was the moment he took two steps back. regardless, this did nothing to stifle the heat burning in your cheeks.

in an attempt to ignore it, you turned on your heels and began to make your way back to the lounge. he walked beside you now, most likely because he had a very good idea of where you were going. there was no reason to follow you around like a lost puppy otherwise.

"why that book?" he wondered aloud.

there was a part of his brain that worried that the question was a bit too personal, but he couldn't help himself. after watching you move through the library at such a fast pace, he had to ask. you were nearly jogging; that book had to be extremely significant to you for one reason or another. glancing down at you, he noticed that you couldn't take you eyes off of the cover.

"um..."

you allowed the sentence to fizzle out, unsure of how to begin, or if you even wanted to at all. having been pulled away from your past life, you hadn't decided whether you wanted to talk about it with anyone. you didn't have much of a story to tell, yet it still felt like something you should lock away entirely. though you didn't truly understand why, you dreaded the thought of letting anyone here get to know you. whether this was because they were undeserving or because acknowledging your past life made this one real, you didn't know.

weaving through the seemingly endless aisles, you allowed you gaze to fall upon the book again.

your brother was a bright young boy, almost too smart for his own good. he never tried to be a troublemaker—not the kind you felt the need to raise your guard around anyway—but he would risk anything to stimulate his mind. if he didn't have a book to stick his head into or a math subject to teach himself he fell into a painful state of boredom. he couldn't stand being bored; you remembered him declaring once before that not doing anything productive made him feel like his brain was rotting from the inside out.

"it's only a matter of time before it starts dripping out of my ears," he used to say.

to this day, you were able to recall in great detail the first time he got himself into trouble with your parents. he managed to drag you down with him without even trying to; your parents found you guilty before you even opened your mouth. all over a stupid book.

"it's not like he can even read it!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.

while his intellect surpassed even the adults in your life, his age was really showing. just like any thirteen year old boy, he felt that your parents were just overreacting; that what he'd done surely didn't warrant this kind of response. after all, it wasn't like he'd truly hurt anyone. even if he really did want to, you knew he didn't have it in him. much like yours, his attacks were never physical, only verbal.

to an extent, you agreed with him. the law wasn't really enforced unless you had the money to make people care about your problems, so you doubted he would get into any real trouble. the most that could happen outside of the home would be some kind of beating from the people he'd stolen from, but you doubted they would even notice its absence. however, watching this situation unfold had begun to give you a headache and for that reason alone you felt he deserved to be punished. "you still stole it," your father shot back.

he stood his ground, arms crossed over his chest. your father was a short man, but he still managed to make himself look intimidating when he saw fit. his actions helped greatly; he had the tendency to raise his voice when things didn't go his way, or allow his eyes to narrow into a glare that would tear through anyone in his path. sometimes you hated him for being this way, but deep down you knew it wasn't his fault. working such long days with almost nothing in return was enough to drive any man crazy.

your mother though... you looked to your mother and saw nothing but disappointment painted across her face as she held the book in her hands. you frowned. for the first time in a very long time, you witnessed her express something other than exhaustion. she was so kind and caring, but she was empty. everyday was a constant fight to keep her family afloat through high tides and thunderstorms, but over the years the tiny raft she'd woven for those she loved most broke apart piece by piece. everyday you watched a tiny piece of her float far far away right along with it.

"how could you let this happen?"

you quickly averted your attention toward your father, your eyes widening as a wave of shock wracked your body. he glared down at you, but you didn't really understand why; you hadn't done anything wrong. and so you said nothing. instead, you nervously pulled at the hem of your shirt, wishing this would all go away. but this wasn't good enough. when you failed to respond, he only rose his voice even more. he pointed his finger at you accusingly, like you'd gone out and committed the crime yourself.

"you were supposed to be watching him! it's not like you have anything else to do. you don't work, can't go to school—what could you possibly have been doing that was more important than making sure your brother stayed safe at home?"

it was then that you began to cry. tears flowed down your cheeks in rivers as you tried so hard not to start hyperventilating. you never took criticism well—not when it was far from constructive. it felt like he had lunged at your throat and your windpipe was beginning to crack under the pressure. if he kept at it, you were certain you wouldn't be able to handle it at any capacity.

you refused to respond. what was the point in trying if your father wasn't even going to try to understand? how were you going to tell him that your idiot brother had managed to sneak out because you spent the day asleep on the cold, hard floor? how were you going to explain that you were so tired, that your body was so physically exhausted that there were periods of time where you were unable to stay awake during the day?

you couldn't, not when everyone else struggled just as hard as you did. you could already imagine his response, something about how he works himself to the bone and still manages to stay awake.

it was pointless.

you thought you were never going to be able to forgive your brother for that day. that night, when you were certain the rest of your family had fallen asleep, you picked the book up off of the floor where your mother had left it. it shouldn't be there; your brother shouldn't get the pleasure of reading it.

so you hid it. you remembered having to be so careful as you moved the heavy water pot, struggling to keep quiet as the lid began to gently crash into the rim. you then lifted up the broken floorboard beneath it and placed the book inside of the small opening before repositioning everything. that night, you laid next to your brother feeling content with your actions, yet no more happy overall.

for so many years, you avoided that book just as much as you did the negative memory associated with it, but after your family passed, something changed. it didn't feel like something you wanted to distance yourself from anymore, but rather something you wanted to hold close to your heart.

the first thing you did once the body collection team cleared your home was rush to the water pot. you were so hasty in trying to move it that it tipped over in the process, spilling what tiny bit of water was left all over your thighs. but holding that book in your hands, it didn't matter. there was a tiny piece of your brother you had yet to familiarize yourself with and you so desperately needed to. it felt like it was all you had left of him. for almost a month you read the book time and time again until the tears stopped; by then you had memorized the entire story word for word.

the little prince.

"someone that i used to know was really interested in it, that's all," you said finally.

you were too stuck inside your own head to notice how much time had passed, but by that point you'd reached the lounge already. the couch closest to you suddenly seemed very inviting, so much that you quickly sat down in the middle. your mind was still a bit too far away to realize what you'd done, but by that point it was too late.

johnny was left to seat himself on your right. much like before, this left very little space between the two of you. this got your attention immediately. your cheeks burned red hot as he rested his arm atop the edge of the couch behind you.

"would you mind if i read it?"

too stunned to form a proper sentence, you merely nodded and placed the book on his lap. when you took the quickest look up at him, you saw that he was smiling. it was a genuine smile, not one of those smug smirks you'd seen once or twice before. staring toward your lap now, you could see him using his free hand to quickly flip to page one.

oh. he was going to read it to you.

"you don't have to do all that," you quickly spoke up.

you did your best not to come across as rude. in reality though, you weren't sure whether or not you should've said anything at all. you had yet to decide if you were uncomfortable with someone like johnny making himself part of something so sacred, or if you were angry at yourself for letting his close proximity make you so flustered. no matter how much you tried though, you couldn't help it. it would've been this way with any boy, you told yourself, but the fact that it had to be him was so, so irritating.

the brunette scoffed lightly.

"you think i don't care enough to get to know you?" he quirked an eyebrow at you, only resulting in your gaze being averted elsewhere. a moment went by as he awaited a response that never came. "i don't want to be strangers; i want to know things about you. i think it's premature to say that things are most definitely going to be real between the two of us, but i would like to try, if you'd let me. at the very least i want to get to know you as a person. if this book is something you're into, i want to read it."

he watched as your eyes fell upon the open page. as hard as he tried, he couldn't make out the expression contorting your features. somewhere deep in his being he was hopeful you were considering what he said, though he knew not to get his hopes up. while he understood why you would do so, the idea of being wed to someone who refused to keep him any closer than arms length made him sad. while he despised it, it happened to be the normalcy and there was nothing he was able to do about it.

almost pleading with you, he quietly added, "for me? you can sleep for all i care; just entertain me for the rest of the hour, please."

very hesitantly, you nodded and allowed him to wrap his arm around your shoulders. he then pulled you close, causing your breath to catch in your throat for a moment. never before had you been held this way, nor had you witnessed your mother in such a position; this type of intimacy was something you'd only ever encountered in the few fairytales you'd been able to read in your youth.

as he began to read in that oh so soft tone, you found yourself lost in thought. the more you tried to think of an occurrence where this scenario had been normalized during your childhood, the less you were able to come up with. it would be humorous to call what you were required to have with johnny love, and yet it was likely the closest you would ever come to such a thing in your life time. marriage was more out of necessity than anything, you had come to realize--especially for women. each person was allowed to interpret societal norms however they so chose, though you felt that marriage offered women a degree of safety that living alone was unable to, while men were given sex and children in exchange. in all your years, you had yet to come across a couple that seemed to truly love one another beyond this platonic agreement.

having been a woman that had grown used to living alone, you understood the need for a man in the house. it wasn't that you were very strong on ancient gender roles, but that you had been forced to live with such extreme anxiety at all times. what few policemen there were didn't care about any crime that didn't have the potential to pad their pockets, so young women were often assaulted late at night on the lookout for whatever scraps of food they might be able to find and eat. even going out during the day made you nervous at times, depending on who was in sight. you'd even made a mental catalogue of which neighbors seemed especially sketchy and why, as you had learned not to trust anyone. living seemed to become extremely dangerous after your father passed away.

your eyes began to flutter closed as his low voice hung in your ear. being endlessly tired was not something that was new to you, for each and every day you felt as though you could sleep for hours and wake up feeling like your limbs were packed full of sand. the man beside you wasn't helping either; the steady sound of his heartbeat was the perfect backdrop to your thoughts. perhaps he noticed, though you couldn't be bothered to open your eyes in order to check. instead, you allowed him to slowly brush his palm over your head, almost as if he was petting you. it was endearing in a way, though you would never say so out loud.

counting down the days, you realized there weren't too many left until the wedding to come. jisung had brought it up earlier, but the subject matter made you uneasy, so you did your best to tune it out, just as you did the rest of his blather. normally you soak up information like a sponge, but the young boy had begun to babble about who all he thought was attending, which wasn't something you cared to know. the thought of being trapped in a room with at least half of the world's most wealthy made a knot tie itself oh so tight within your stomach. not because you felt the need to impress any of these people, but because you had spent your entire life drowning in poverty while these people had very little to worry about. your main concern was finding a way to keep from choking one of them to death on your way down the aisle.

on top of that, it sounded as if the majority of the relatives that were to be in attendance didn't like the idea of your marriage in general. jisung had recalled chatting with a young servant named yeri over lunch, who apparently dealt with all of the invitations. he relayed that she was tasked with calling each household personally, so she was able to get a feel of how they had received the news. as he ran the brush through your wild locks, he snickered and told you not to worry about johnny's family, as she told him that over half of those she spoke with sounded very irritated.

"i think it's about the money, honestly," he'd laughed. his slender fingers then wove themselves through your hair, parting it in three at the nape of your neck. "that's really weird to think about, isn't it? maybe i've just been poor for so long that money doesn't really seem like something to pine over, but i think it's kind of ridiculous when people that have more money than i'll ever know what to do with are so upset that they're not able to come into more of it.'

in a way, you thought the boy was right. while you felt that greed was almost amusing coming from those who already have a great deal of money, you understood the need to pine over it. you couldn't even count the amount of times you had gone to bed hungry, as well as had to function starving the next day. even just a few dollars would've been able to keep you fed, even if only for the smallest period of time. maybe the issue wasn't that jisung had been poor for so long, but that he had all of his needs met for such a long while. in all honesty, you understood the want to fight tooth and nail for every dollar that came your way, as much as it pained you to admit.

suddenly, you felt johnny's chest move beneath you, quickly rising and falling as a gentle chuckle escaped his lips. even still, you pretended to be asleep.

"what's wrong?" he questioned, nudging you slightly. "you're gonna give yourself wrinkles or something."

you swore under your breathe. your features relaxed then. every crease in your forehead slowly evened out, then the rest of your face fell in line too. it wasn't something that you'd done consciously, though you did understand why he would question such a thing. you weren't entirely sure what it must've looked like, but judging from his reaction, you were likely pouting like a child.

"how long until we have to get married?" you asked, peeling both of your eyes open.

"two days," he responded simply.

looking at the book in his lap, you noticed that he had gotten through a handful of pages. telling time had never been something you were very good at, but you guessed it had been at least ten or fifteen minutes since he had began. that was the beauty of being lost inside your head, you thought. you were free from the confinement of time, as it mattered very little when you had other things popping out of every little nook and cranny your brain had to offer. there was always something new to dissect and pick apart without having to worry about how much time you were wasting. it was nice, especially when wasting your time with him meant he was unable to bother you for very long.

instead of awaiting a response he knew would never come, he simply joked, "why, are you excited?"

"i'm thinking," you said, turning to look up at him.

you weren't sure if you wanted to continue. you weren't sure if you wanted to let him in, to let him know what was on your mind. there was a lot on your mind. the thought of being kept here forever with no one to talk to on a deeper level than the gossip jisung liked to bring to your vanity made you sad, though it wasn't like you were having very deep conversations with the kindergarteners you taught back home. however, the brunette's actions irritated you to no end. you were afraid that letting him in would mean to let go of what he had done, which wasn't something that you were ready to do yet. you weren't sure it would ever be something you were going to do.

the hardest part to grasp was that jisung had been right; as much as you wanted to hate the man for his means of getting you there, you would never be able to hate him for putting clothes on your body and food in your mouth. thinking back to the large breakfast you had woken up to that morning, you frowned. you tried and tried, but you couldn't be upset about that. sighing to yourself, you finally came to terms with the fact that finding comfort in another person wouldn't be so terrible, since you were unable to go anywhere else. it was a given that you would be exceptionally picky with what information you felt he was worthy of having access to, but baby steps wouldn't hurt.

however, you really did like his nervousness, at least in the sense that he knew better than to pry. he waited silently for you to continue, still absentmindedly petting the top of your head. he had been timid about such an action at first, but once he realized you weren't going to bite his hand off, he became more confident about continuing. he had a very soft smile tugging at his plump lips, though you could see the angst hiding in those chocolate brown eyes. it was as if he wasn't sure of what you were going to say, like that scared him.

truthfully, it did. johnny's biggest fear was that you would never get over any kind of resentment toward him you may have. this was a feeling he understood, and he very much understood why you would be feeling this way toward him, but he at least hoped the both of you would be able to find some kind of middle ground. he was just as fond of the arrangement as you were; maybe even more so, since he had grown up watching it play out before his eyes.

his mother never really did overcome her hatred for his father. perhaps this was because times were different when she was younger. she had the pleasure of experiencing life before the war; she knew freedom without having poverty cripple the entirety of her family. even in the midst of the violence and war, she still found a way to be happy without having to rely on money to do so. because of this, being pulled away from her parents crushed her. she wasn't like you; she didn't find comfort in a full belly, nor did she see it as a reason to excuse what had happened to her. she loved her son very much, though she never even made an attempt to hide the fact that she cared for her husband very little. in fact, johnny often suspected that she only agreed to have a child as a form of escapism. he always wondered if that was why she insisted on spending all of her free time with him, even while he was being pestered by countless tutors.

maybe it was selfish to wish for you to get over a traumatic experience in order to be happy with him, but he didn't know any other way of living. what he wanted more than anything was for you to be happy, though he didn't think this was something he would be able to communicate correctly without making a pig of himself. he understood the severity of the culture difference between the both of you and didn't want to come across as arrogant, especially because he knew that he was. he didn't intend to be, but he wasn't naïve.

"i want to hate you so badly," you admitted finally. for once, you locked eyes with him. you wanted him to see you, to know that you weren't exaggerating in order to toy with his nerves. perhaps you didn't know the first thing about talking to boys, but you knew a great deal about communicating your feelings to the emotionally ignorant. you often had conversations of this nature with you brother when he grew old enough, as you found that talking took far less energy than fighting did. the man stopped petting you then, his hand simply resting at the nape of your neck. you rolled your eyes, watching him squirm a little in his seat. "you can keep doing that thing if you want, it doesn't really bother me one way or another. even if it did, i think i could punch you in the face and you probably wouldn't do anything violent to retaliate; i probably would've done that by now."

he wanted to argue, but he knew he couldn't. you were right. even if he hated you with every fiber of his being, he could never bring himself to raise a hand to a woman. just the mere thought of what he had to do to you already made him sick to his stomach. instead, he simply began his hand motions once more.

"i want to hate you so badly," you repeated, huffing a bit. your eyes drifted off, directing your glare at whichever bookshelf you spotted first. "i've been thinking about it a lot and i don't think you have any idea how much it hurts that for the life of me i haven't been able to find a way to make you into more than just a minor annoyance. i'm irritated at the circumstances of our meeting, but the more i think about it, the less i'm able to find you terrible. you should repulse me, but really, what did i have waiting for me back home? loneliness and starvation? i try to remember that i was making something of myself by educating children that weren't able to bathe most days, let alone pick up a book on their own, but it seems a little bittersweet when the skeleton i see in the mirror is all i have to show for it. i want to hate your guts for what you did, but how can i when you've given me everything i never had?"

this time, he pulled away completely. he recognized your hurt, yet he was unsure about what to do in response. he knew that honesty was in order, but these were not the kinds of conversations he was accustomed to. johnny was taught to suppress his feelings as opposed to expressing them, as his father thought that to share one's inner feelings was a very feminine thing to do. even i love you's were assumed and not spoken. an attempt was made in explaining his point of view on your journey to his home, but even then, he had barely scratched the surface of what was buried deep in his heart.

"i'm sorry for that," he began, his features slowly contorting with the first wave of distress that wracked his brain. "i'm not really sure what to say aside from that. i understand that you're upset and i understand why, honestly. i figured you would be, which i guess is why i've been trying to overcompensate with material items. i don't know if that makes me even more of a shitty person, but i figured that the least i can do is make sure you have what you need... i'm not going to sit here and pretend like i'm your savior for doing that, nor am i going to force you to like me. do i want you to? of course i do. i hope we can be friends at the very least, but i'm always going to respect your wants and-"

"don't you have a job to be getting back to?"

you wanted to scream. he was making it so hard by being a decent person, so much that you had half a mind to punch him square in the nose. you knew it was terrible to wish he were a worse person, but it would make your frustration so much more valid. it was very clear that his intention wasn't to confuse you even further, but that was the result regardless. you weren't sure where you stood, only that the ground you wished to be upon was very far out of reach.

he shook his head, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. while he was sure your irritation was very genuine, he was relieved to see that it wasn't likely to grow into something more. the last thing he wanted to do was dig himself a deeper hole to fall into.

"i don't have to do anything; it's more that i choose to get up and go to work everyday. if i really wanted to, i could easily appoint someone to take on my workload without losing any personal profit," he explained, closing the book in his lap and placing it on the coffee table. not only did he want to cut your date short before your annoyance really began to blossom, he could see how tired you'd become. keeping this in mind, he was slow to stand up and extend a hand toward you. there was a fleeting look of hesitance that washed over the irises of your eyes, but you took it nonetheless. while helping you to your feet, he continued. "i like my job--the techy stuff, anyway. having to be the bad guy all the time is honestly really stressful, but i guess that's just part of the package, right?"

though it felt like the question was directed more toward himself than anything, you took it upon yourself to answer anyway. your hand still resting in his, you allowed him to guide you back to the elevator.

"not necessarily," you responded, watching as he swiped his keycard once more. following him into the elevator, you took a few seconds to piece together the rest of your thoughts. it wasn't very easy given how little you knew about what it was he did at work, but you felt that his mindset was very flawed regardless of his job title. "if you're really as in charge as you claim to be, i don't understand why it has to be so terrible for the people that work for you, if that's what you're trying to say."

"you don't get it," he muttered softly.

he used his index finger to press another one of the shiny metal buttons on the panel before him. while doing so, he did his best to avoid your gaze. he didn't even want to think about how he must've sounded complaining about such problems, as they seemed so silly in retrospect. he felt so guilty complaining about the way he happened to make his money knowing you came from the situation you did. in a way, he felt like he had slapped you across the face, though he would never even dream of doing such a thing.

"no, i don't," you quipped. your voice was very level, yet you couldn't help but let go of his hand. it seemed like he wasn't really in the mood to hold yours any more than you were his. "i don't know anything about science, or engineering, or even how to count without using my fingers, but i know what it's like to be poor. my father worked for someone like you. one days worth of your earnings could probably feed a family like mine for at least a week, but instead big companies throw pennies at their workers and demand that we make it stretch far enough. maybe other decisions wouldn't feel so weighted if you knew your employees were going home to more than scraps from the garbage, but you're choosing not to find that out."

johnny remained silent. there was nothing he could say to refute your argument; you were right. this was an issue that was far easier to avoid before your arrival, especially now that you were choosing to voice your concerns. the money his business produced made it very easy to ignore the conditions certain staff members were likely living in. in all honesty, he'd never even given it much thought. his father had always preached that they were not responsible for anything that went on outside of the workplace, though he was neglecting to take into account that the things they provided during work hours directly contributed to everything that took place before and after. he felt ashamed now, having this thrown back in his face.

"you're right. i'm sorry."

the elevator opened up after what felt like forever, much to your relief. after taking two steps forward, it felt like the man had wrapped his hands around both of your ankles and dragged you back ten. you were well aware that the difference in upbringings might make conversation a bit difficult at times, but you weren't expecting him to be so ignorant to the state of the world beyond the little bubble he existed in. all it served to do was dull what little sparkle had managed to find you today.

"i think i remember how to get back to my room from here," you promptly informed him.

"you're sure?" he asked softly, to which you merely nodded.

you didn't know if there was really anything left to say. you were far too exhausted to entertain him any longer; all you wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep until you no longer felt the tiny pinprick of sadness in your chest.

perhaps tomorrow he would manage to redeem himself, you told yourself. after all, he'd already made it very clear that he had more than enough money to do so.

author’s note: i’m so sorry this took so long ): i’ve really been struggling with my mental health lately, but i’m going to do my best to be more consistent with my uploads. please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist (:

#johnny has so much character growth in his future #hydrangea ;#johnny seo #nct johnny #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #johnny scenarios #nct angst #nct series #nct stories #Park Jisung #nct jisung #nct au #ceo au

60 notes · View notes

the-witty-pen-name · 3 years

Text

It Happened On Sakaar Pt. 2

Mando x F!Reader; Loki x F!Reader

Rating: M; 18+ Only

Warnings: swearing, grieving, angst, slow burn, mentions of violence (smut in later chapters)

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: The bounty hunter’s most recent puck sends him across the Galaxy to an unfamiliar and artificial planet named Sakaar- literally the galaxy’s trash can. Sakaar is a bizarre planet, but so is his most recent bounty. Din is chasing a man he only knows as The God of Mischief. The reader lives on Sakaar as a scrapper, a similar trade to that of a bounty hunter and has a tangled history with the man Mando is looking for. Will the unlikely duo team up to capture the mischievous Asgardian or will the reader fall victim to Loki’s promises?

A/N:

IMPORTANT UPDATE

I made a Google form to be added to my taglists, so if you want to be added, the link is in my bio. I’ll only be adding people to the list if they requested to be added by filling out the form! This way all of the requests are just in one place so I don’t miss requests! Thank you!!!

This is unedited and if I missed anything that I should include as a warning please let me know! Thank you y’all!

Part One

Tags and Requests are OPEN

You had just gotten paid another hefty sum for brining a new fighter to the Grandmaster, not as good as the supposed Lord of Thunder Scrapper 142 caught but still nonetheless, he was pleased and you were more than satisfied with your payment. You were at a bar, feeling pretty good about yourself. You deserved it and you wanted to treat yourself to a drink. You sat on one of the barstools, nursing a drink and did your best to ignore the gladiators behind the barrier nearby. You weren’t looking forward to this upcoming fight, but then again, you didn’t particularly care about them in the first place anyways. Scrapper 142 joined you, opting for a bottle instead of a glass.

You understood her. It was an unspoken feeling you knew she also understood. You were similar people, and on this planet to escape your past. She had been here much longer than yourself, and you observe that nothing can penetrate her hard shell. She was invincible, and you envied her ability to keep her emotions at bay. Well, except for the drinking, but you still admired her. At some point she went over to the barrier and actually spoke to one of the gladiators. It was odd, but you didn’t question it. When she got up, you bid your goodbyes and headed to get ready for the fight. You knew you wouldn’t see her at the arena, but you know she wouldn’t take it personally that you left without a goodbye.

Walking down the hallway towards the entrance, an arm grabbed your bicep and pulled you down an empty hallway. Without hesitation, you pulled your blaster with your free hand and pushed it to the temple of whoever grabbed you. When it made a clinking noise, you sighed, knowing exactly who it was. “Mando,” you say curtly, yanking your arm free and turning to face him.

“I need you to tell me about the God of Mischief,” he states plainly.

“I thought you were a good bounty hunter,” you roll your eyes.

“I didn’t get any information, I’m working with nothing,” he explains. You stare up at the visor, like somehow, you’d be able to study his eyes. You can feel them staring back at you though.

“How is this my problem?” You scoff and he sighs, clearly getting frustrated.

“You’re the only person I know on this planet that can help me,” he tries to insist, “I’ll split the reward, please.”

“I’ll tell you what I know,” you say defeated. You felt bad for the man, and you knew it must’ve been hard for him to come to you. “But I’m not helping you hunt him down. I don’t want to be close to this.”

“Deal,” he says, and offers out his gloved hand for you to shake.

“We can’t talk here,” you state, “the fight is going to start soon and I need to be in attendance for a work thing.”

“A work thing?” he taunts. You chuckle.

“Unless you want to join me,” you offer, “If you can get a babysitter.”

“Fine,” he says, following your lead. You walk in silence to the stands, and you find your regular seat, and he takes the one next to you. You chuckle at how out of place he looks, too bulky from the armor to fit comfortably.

“Do you always need to wear all this?” you ask him, gesturing to the armor.

“Yes, it’s part of my code,” he replies, looking down at the arena. “Now, the bounty.”

“He’s one of the two princes from my home planet,” you explain. “He’s actually a god, with powers.”

“Powers?”

“Yeah, astral projection, shape-shifting, hypnosis, telekinesis, teleportation…”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” you say with a chuckle at the shock in his voice.

“How the hell are you supposed to catch someone like that?” he sighs, leaning back in his seat more.

“Outsmart him. Take advantage of the fact he probably has no idea you’re here or that anyone would be after him.”

“Would anyone be after him?”

“Oh gods, he’s made enemies all over the galaxy,” you retort, “I have no idea how to determine who sent you. He has a laundry list of enemies.”

“Of course,” he grumbles. “Just in recent years, he sabotaged his own brother’s coronation by allowing the Frost Giants to attack Asgard- our planet. Then, skipping a lot of other chaos, he led an alien attack on Earth. He was supposed to face lifetime imprisonment in the Asgardian dungeons, but he was freed to help fight when Dark Elves attacked Asgard, and he faked his death. This brings us up to speed to when I left three years ago. With everyone thinking he was dead, he returned to Asgard and removed his father, Odin, from the throne and had been ruling Asgard disguised as Odin. He was doing so for several years, before Thor- that’s his brother; Thor came back and exposed him. So that’s when I left, so if he’s done something else since, I don’t know.”

“That was the summary?”

“That was the very abridged version,” you chuckle, “but that’s sort of the relevant bit.”

“Why did you leave?” he asks curiously, “it seems like him being exposed by Thor was a good thing but you left.”

“Because I mourned him for years,” you say spitefully. “Told me himself while disguised as Odin that Loki was dead. Lied right to me, deceived me and the entire kingdom. We built fucking statues in his honor like idiots…”

“You loved him,” he states simply, preventing you from spiraling. You appreciated his ability to simplify the situation. It was grounding.

“Yes,” you say simply.

“And you’ve been here for three years and he only just shows up now?”

“Yeah.”

“Asshole,” he mutters, making you laugh.

“Indeed,” you agree.

“You deserve better,” he affirms.

“Then a wanted war criminal? I would hope so,” you jest.

“No, I mean, yes, but you seem- just, never mind.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” he asks, after a short, uncomfortable silence.

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” you answer honestly.

“I understand,” he says, but he sounds like he’s far away, lost in his own thoughts. You both fall into a more comfortable silence, when the giant hologram of the Grandmaster emerges introducing the event and the fighters. You aren’t really paying attention; you have heard it all before. The Champion will come out, the crowd will go crazy, and he’ll just defeat whatever poor soul they put up against him. However, you are snapped out of your thoughts when you hear a familiar voice yell.

“Thor?” you say in disbelief, standing up from your seat to get a closer look. His hair was shorter but without a doubt it was him. “Shit, what happened to him?”

“Thor, like Loki’s brother?” Mando asks, staring down at the fight, both of you at the end of your seats. You look over across the stadium, and you see a familiar figure in the Grandmaster’s private box.

“That weasel,” you say, narrowing your eyes, to try to get a better look. It’s him. Without a doubt, it’s Loki sitting on the large couch next to the Grandmaster. “He’s right there,” you point, and Mando follows your gaze.

“He’s watching while they send his brother to slaughter,” Mando observes and you nod.

“I thought I couldn’t be more disgusted,” you scoff. You wanted to be surprised but how could you be? This was Loki. Gods, you had been so blind for so long.

“What can we do?” Mando asks, already trying to look around for the exit. There are way too many people.

“Thor has powers like Loki- not the same ones, but he’s also a god,” you say, partly to explain but also in an attempt to calm your own nerves. “He can win this.” You hear Thor proclaim that he knows the Champion and that they are friends from work, and you cover your face with your hands from the secondhand embarrassment. You silently plead for Thor to stop trying to talk and just fight his way out. Mando hesitantly wraps an arm around you. He’s stiff and awkward but you appreciate it regardless. It was comforting. “I can’t watch,” you say, hiding your face in his shoulder.

Mando had never experienced something like this, ever. He hadn’t touched someone for this long in a very, very long time. He knew the circumstances were terrible and his heart was breaking for you. But selfishly, he basked in the feeling of intimacy, even if it was strictly platonic. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if it was platonic, because that implies a friendship. His mind was racing and he tried to ignore the warm feeling spreading throughout his body at the contact. He doesn’t dare move; he was enjoying the feeling too much. Mando was rendered speechless as he watched the man literally conjure lightning from nothing. The fight was unlike anything he had ever seen. Of course, he’d been all over the galaxy and has seen wonders, including the little baby back in his room, but never has he seen so much power yielded all at once. He gulped, thinking about what he would be up against trying to bring in Loki. Without a doubt, he’d need to use the carbonite chamber on the Crest- but would that even hold a being of this much power? He didn’t have much else of a choice.

The crowd erupts, booing as the Grandmaster rigs the fight in the Champion’s favor, and Mando rolls his eyes under his helmet. Of course, he thinks. However, he can tell the man is still alive and is relieved to tell you, especially since you didn’t dare look at the spectacle- too afraid to watch the fate of your friend unfold. “He made it,” Mando said gently, nudging you and you finally turned your head back to the arena. They brought out a stretcher and the floating device brought his body off of the ground. He was breathing. “We can find out where they took him soon,” he says reassuringly. He felt compelled to help you find Thor, not just because of his own needs, but he genuinely wanted to return the favor for the intel you provided- at no charge at that. The crowds clear out in a somewhat orderly fashion, but then take to the streets to celebrate the Grandmaster’s Champion.

You are furious that Loki would sit by and watch as Thor was sent out on that field. You had no doubt in your mind that he knew that was happening but didn’t stop it. You knew him too well to think otherwise. Part of you a very long time ago had a hope the two could actually work as a team, and you had seen Thor try- you realize that now. However, at the time, you always defended Loki. You remain seated, even after the whole section of seats has long since been cleared. You felt numb and disgusted.

“Any way I can help you, I’ll do it,” you say finally, your eyes fixated on the crater that was formed by the fight. You were rigid, very much pissed. You had wasted a large portion of your first year here hoping he’d come after you, and as much as you’d say you wouldn’t have taken him back, you know that you three years ago would have fallen back into his arms in a heartbeat if he had tried to come find you. Skurge knew where you had been sent. Loki could have easily gotten that information and followed you if he had wanted to. He obviously didn’t. And you have already wasted more energy than you should’ve in your lifetime by his side, defending him, mourning him, loving him. You were done. If there was any doubt of that in your mind before, the display before you tonight solidified your feelings.

You wanted to see him get what he deserved.

“I need you to get close to him again,” Mando says hesitantly, and you can hear the reluctance. He knows he’s asking way too much from you, but he’s desperate. It’s the only way he can think of to out smart him. He cringes, not wanting to subject you to this character again, but he feels as though he doesn’t have a choice. You were right that Mando needed to take advantage of Loki not knowing he was here. He could operate behind the scenes while you distracted him. It was a flimsy plan at best and he was sure you would say no. He wouldn’t blame you. He saw the hurt and pain on your face, just out for the world to see. You were usually much better at hiding it, he had observed, but the events of today undeniably bothered you greatly. He felt relieved to have his helmet on. He couldn’t imagine the discipline of controlling your expressions. It was something he never needed to master, and he admired your ability to do it.

“I’ll do it,” you sniff looking back at him. Your eyes were glossed over with tears that you were not letting fall and you still held yourself with your head high. You were trying your best to not let your emotions spill over, and he marveled at your strength.

“You sure.”

“Positive. I can do it. Besides, I don’t know how you’d do it without me.”

“You’re right,” he chuckles.

“I always am,” you joke. You wipe your eyes and stand up, both of you heading out of the stadium. “It’s probably better if we try to find Thor tomorrow,” you conclude noticing how dark it is now. Mando nods in agreement.

“Are they immortal?” he asks hesitantly, wanting to talk to you longer.

“No but we live a long time,” you say with a sigh, “Very slow aging process as well.”

“How old are they?” he asks, “I mean- do you not age either?”

“Loki and I are similar in age, Thor is older,” you explain. “I mean, I don’t know an exact age in years, but at least a thousand? Thor probably about five hundred years older or so if I had to guess.”

“Are- are you serious?” he asks in disbelief.

“I’m an old maid,” you chuckle.

“You look younger than me,” he says, still in shock.

“Asgardians have a five-thousand-year lifespan roughly,” you giggle, finding it amusing you’ve made the bounty hunter speechless. “I know I look pretty good for my age,” you joke.

“Yeah,” he says in agreement, and he doesn’t miss the way it makes you smile. There’s a tension between the two of you that becomes glaringly more obvious, and you both chose to try your best to ignore it.

“So, what are you?” you ask. “You and your son- what species?”

“I’m human,” he says quickly, embarrassed at what you thought he must look like under the helmet. “He’s adopted,” he explains, and you laugh at how flustered he sounds through the modulator.

“Are you from Earth?”

“No, I was born on Aq Vetina,” he explains and you nod.

“I’ve never heard of Earth.” “I thought Earth was the only place humans dwelled,” you say intrigued, “Interesting.”

“Are you royalty?” he asks, trying to change the subject from his backstory.

“Almost was,” you admit, “but no. I was in the Einherjar army, warriors who protected the throne.”

“Almost?” he asks, not wanting to pry but his curiosity of wanting to get to know more about you getting the better of him.

“Loki and I at one point were engaged,” you say, facing the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “I shouldn’t be asking.”

“No, it’s okay,” you say reassuringly, “It’s nice to talk about it after all these years. I’m enjoying having someone who’s willing to listen.” He wondered if that would be something he would want as well. “Then he faked his death, and well,” you joke, “I would say that is the most unique way I’ve heard of to break off an engagement.”

“I don’t think that was because of you…”

“Oh, I know,” you reassure him, “But it clearly showed me how little he actually cared for me.”

“He’s a fool,” he said quickly.

“I’m afraid I’m the one who deserves that title,” you jest, trying to make the atmosphere less depressing.

“I don’t think so,” he counters, but doesn’t expand on his statement. You nod as a silent thank you. “I need to get back to the kid,” he says, “Should I meet you tomorrow?”

“Where are you staying?” You say, “I’ll come to you. I’m too close to the Grandmaster, and then by extension Loki- me going to you keeps you off the radar longer.”

He gives you the name of where he’s staying and his room, actually trusting you with it. You immediately know where he is staying and you assure him you won’t have any trouble finding him. You insist you want to go find Thor alone and he respects your request. You promise to go to him after. You part ways, and you return to your apartment and him to his room.

With the secured behind him, he picks up the child and checks on him. He felt guilty for having left him so long, but the kid had only just woken up when Mando arrived back at the room. The child was babbling and happy, and Mando fed him. His mind is still racing with thoughts of you, and how much you’ve been though.

It almost angers him, the way that you’ve been treated and discarded. Like you were just a pawn in a chess game. The pain and sadness behind your eyes said more to him than your words had, even though he hung on to every syllable. He feels ridiculous, but part of him thinks about how he can be the one to change it. He can be the one to give you justice, by catching the man as he was sent here to do. And maybe somewhere also in the back of his mind he thinks about being the one who can truly make you happy.

The rapport between the two of you was so seamless. He never had such an easy time talking to someone before. It’s like you just showed up out of nowhere and fell into his life and he wants you to stay in it. He thinks about if you both are successful, he somehow by some miracle is able to catch this guy, would he just part ways with you and never see you again? He hates the idea already. He knows how irrational he is being, but he allows himself to indulge in the idea of sharing things with you the same way you opened up about your past to him. He thinks about your words about how good it felt to have someone to listen, and he thinks about the urge he has to tell you everything. He thinks about finishing this job and getting off this wasteland planet and taking you away with him. He knows it would never happen. You are the closest thing he could ever encounter to a deity, and there’s no reason for you to want him.

With the child tired out yet again, Mando closes his pod when the baby is asleep and he is now free to take off his helmet. There’s a mirror on the wall and he looks at his reflection. He sees the signs of aging on his face, something you won’t experience until long after his lifetime. You’re the most beautiful being he’s ever encountered and here he is thinking you would return the affection he has begun to feel towards you. He doesn’t believe you’re someone who cares too much about appearances, but you are used to walking among ethereal beings. He knew he would not be good enough. Maybe he had been alone too long and his mind is playing tricks on him, but he can’t forget the way he made you smile. He clung onto it and took pride in it, desperately wanting to be the cause of your smile again.

Taglist:

@msclifford @doctoreuphoria @gloryekaterina @sassy-kassaay

68 notes · View notes

themoonlily · 3 years

Note

Hi! I found your stories on a ficrec list for Eomer/Lothiriel and WOW!!! MUCH LOVE!!!!! I can't wait to read more wonderful stories from you! Can I ask what got you into this pairing, and what draws you to them? Also: any headcannons about them? (Physical/personality/hobbies/etc.)

Hi there! I am so glad to hear you like my stories. :)

I would say that I got to Éothiriel thanks to Éomer. I can't say I fell in love with him straightaway - I was your typical Aragorn fangirl back in the day (mind you, he’s still one of my favourite characters in the legendarium). I had always enjoyed the bits with Rohan in particular, and the more I watched the films, the more I liked Éomer, and once I had read the books a couple of times, I realised there was so much more to this guy. I loved his integrity, his unashamed passion, his loyalty and devotion to his family and friends, and how he strives to do better and learn.

His arc in the books is such a fascinating one. He starts out as a scion of one of the leading families of Rohan (and is a son of a princess, no less), but is orphaned along with his sister at an early age, and then raised by the King himself. What kind of a trauma did that loss leave him with, and how did it affect his relationship with his sister? Were his teenage years very difficult thanks to this? At the time of the events of LOTR, he’s a fairly young man - among the youngest of the entire cast - and yet he has this hugely important duty as the Third Marshal of the Mark. He’s passionate but also ready to put himself and his own needs aside in order to do what’s right. The whole House of Eorl dynamics are just so fascinating, even though a lot of it happens outside the actual narrative of LOTR. What are his relationships with his uncle, his cousin, and his sister? How does this partnership with Théodred grow (to the point of Saruman seeing these two as the chief obstacle of the easy conquest of Rohan)? What does it feel like to watch his beloved uncle fall under the influence of ill-intended counsels (not to mention the threat of Wormtongue against Éowyn)? Éomer is portrayed as a fairly temperamental guy, so I can only imagine the fury he must feel at the situation.

But then Théodred dies, the noose tightens around everybody’s throats, and one may just imagine the desperation and dread he must feel at this point. He’s still figthing and trying to do the right thing, even if that may now mean treason. But he’s still friendly to Aragorn and co. when they meet, recognising them as an opportunity to help Rohan almost immediately.

He’s so loyal to his family that even after he’s been disgraced and humiliated by Wormtongue by the proxy of Théoden, he still knows where the true malice is coming from, and is ready to fight again for his uncle the moment he’s released. And he slips straight back to being the King’s lieutenant without even blinking his eyes.

There’s also how Éomer becomes king. I’m fascinated with what it would feel like to him. I mean, he’s been second in line to the throne his whole life, so he probably always realised there’s a chance he’ll be king one day. But the circumstances he comes to the throne - the near ruin of his country, the tragic and violent death of his cousin he might have been able to prevent if not for Wormtongue, the brief time he has with his restored uncle, and then the whole mess of the War of the Ring... all that must feel pretty surreal for him. And, of course, the Battle of Pelennor’s fields, and his scenes in it... wow. Him nearly losing his mind over thinking his sister (and whole family) is dead, charging like a madman over the field, composing some pretty amazing poetry in the spur of the moment, and then just laughing in sheer defiance against what seems like imminent death. What a dude.

And then there are so many other interesting aspects: how he must have felt over those long years (was he unhappy? was he lonely?), what he expected his life to be versus what it turned out to be, and what it did to him to watch his family leave one by one. I could go on, but then we would be here whole day.

So, enter Lothíriel. Of course I was eager to know what happens to Éomer after the war is over, and fortunately, Tolkien had an answer ready - although he could really have told us more about them! Not that in canon there is anything to imply it was a love marriage, but personally, I don’t think that a man with a disposition like Éomer would submit to a loveless or faithless marriage (or that he’d risk his relationship with Imrahil by being faithless). I just can’t see it happening. Also I just want him to be happy, and find someone who brightens up his days, someone who won’t leave him. It’s nice to imagine him having a new start with her.

Sadly, of her personality I can’t say anything that would be indicated by canon, but if we imagine her being anything like her father, then she might be a proud, strong and brave woman. Well, she would probably have to be courageous to leave her homeland for marriage (another reason I think it was a love union, because I want her to be happy, too)! I like to imagine her finding some unexpected, unimagined freedom in Rohan, perhaps even fulfilment of ambition in her role as a queen. Also, maybe with her background and if she had access to some kind of education, she’d be uniquely qualified to helping Éomer to rule and counseling him. Perhaps she even feels some personal pride over the fact that together, they are starting a new dynasty (or a new line) to rule in Rohan. Also, having a fairly big family, I think she would be well equipped to show him the love he has missed most of his life.

I recall at some point reading the appendix about the House of Eorl, and that Éomer married Imrahil’s daughter, Lothíriel, and thinking yes, this makes sense. It’s just the sense I gleaned from the interactions and circumstances of the story. Of course Éomer would have strong feelings for Imrahil, since he was the one who saw that Éowyn was still alive and hastened her delivery to safety. Being a man of strong emotions, I think Éomer would hold Imrahil and his entire family in high regard thanks to this. Maybe it’s even a ground from which some attachment did grow between him and Lothíriel. Also, Rohirrim are a culture based on horses, and apparently the Princes of Dol Amroth also maintain a cavalry (the Swan Knights who, with Imrahil, took part in the Battle of Pelennor fields). So I see there definitely being a lot of points of connection!

Of course, it also fits the socio-political frame we are left with at the end of the story: the new unity among the Free Peoples, the task of rebuilding after the war, and this new blooming of the friendship between Rohan and Gondor. On a purely logical level, it is reasonable that he’d marry the daughter of a powerful house like Imrahil’s. But for my purely headcanonish “aesthetic” (if that’s even the right word) reasons I do like the contrast these two make: their different cultures (and all that they entail from songs and poetry to foods and habits), their union as the union of earth and sea, his gold to her silver, the warrior and the lady... also this is purely headcanon/tropes but I definitely think of them as tol/smol and embodying the pair where A is the reason B began to smile again. (Tol/smol is at least half canon because Éomer is apparently as tall as Aragorn, like 6 feet 6 if I recall right. Since he’s also a professional warrior, he’s probably built like it too.)

So, yeah - I guess that’s already a lot of reasons for why I love this pair! There’s just so much potential there, so many avenues to pursue, and so much food for imagination. If you’re interested in more of my headcanons, you could try searching the tag “Éothiriel” in my blog - I’ve got plenty of posts about them!

Thanks for the ask, and sorry for this answer being so long! I rather got carried away and Éomer deserves every bit of the love he gets, and so does Lothíriel.

#Éomer #Eomer #Lothíriel #Lothiriel #Éothiriel #eomer x lothiriel

28 notes · View notes

dreaminglonger2nite · 3 years

Text

My Supernatural Finale Thoughts

After taking a couple days to think and digest the Supernatural finale (and basically cry nonstop for 3 days), the more and more I believe it was absolutely perfect. It’s literally exactly how I believed the series would end and in following the show for the last 10 years, I truly believe this is the best ending for all the characters. At the end of the day, the show is about SAM & DEAN. And to have an entire episode focused on wrapping up their story is all any of us should’ve been happy with:

- Did any of us honestly think Dean was going to survive the end of the show? I don’t know how many times it was mentioned that Dean knew he was going to die fighting and that he didn’t see an end to hunting as a reality in his life. He always wanted Sam to get out and while there continued to be a big bad every season, there was no opportunity to stop. Once they defeated Chuck, there was some semblance of peace, but obviously still monsters and obviously still a chance they both could meet their end sooner rather than later which is exactly what happened. There is no way in any reality Dean would’ve been happy doing something else and selfishly did I want to see Dean grow old with Sam? Of course. But was it realistic? Not at all.

- Also, Dean didn’t die by a rusty nail and it pisses me off that people continue to minimize this. He died because a long thick piece of rebar stabbed him in the back, obviously puncturing something major, his heart or lungs due to how quick he died. It also was at an angle so who knows exactly what it hit. He felt like he couldn’t move off of it without falling apart so it wasn’t something small. The piece actually looked long enough that I thought it almost went all the way through. Poor Dean :(

- Also, what could’ve been more fitting for him to die by? Obviously this entire time there has been some divine intervention by Chuck keeping them alive but now that Chuck is gone, there was nothing keeping something like that from happening. I mean, how many times on hunts are they an inch away from death and yet somehow pull through? Yes you can argue that Dean has beat pretty much Heaven and Hell and everything in between but how would that have looked if finally one of those big bads defeated Dean? This way, Dean didn’t lose to the enemy, or his lack of strength, he literally lost to bad circumstances. Their environment they were fighting in had numerous dangerous spots and unfortunately Dean fell victim to his surroundings. I don’t look at this as “omg a nail beat Dean Winchester?” I look at it as something out of his control finally won out and that’s not Deans fault. Bad place, bad time. And it parallels Sam’s death in season 2, the saddest and most impactful death of the series.

- I absolutely loved the speech to Sam and making him promise to keep fighting and living and carrying out the legacy they had both created. Sam had the ability to move on and attempt a normal life (remember when Dean went to purgatory?). There is no way in hell that it would’ve worked the other way around. Dean cannot live without Sam. This has been established time and time again. But Sam also kept a piece of himself separate and this is what allowed him to keep Deans promise and live for himself. He always wanted Sam to live a long life and he kept Deans lasting wish.

- As far as the lack of Cass, I mean cmon. Yes we all love Cass but I felt his story ended already. He died saving Dean and that was fitting for his character. Seeing anyone else in this finale that wasn’t laser focused on Sam and Dean would’ve cheapened it. He was a beloved, fan favorite character, but at the end of the day the heart and soul of this show is between the Winchesters and if this truly is the last time we see them together on screen, I don’t want anything else. Could they have mentioned him a bit more, absolutely. That was actually a large criticism of mine that we didn’t get a lot of grieving, but we know Sam and Dean feel it and it affects them everyday.

- Don’t @ me about Destiel. I don’t care if you ship them, everyone is free to do what they want and ship who they want but it really had no place in this finale and if you can’t see past that, I think you miss the point of the show altogether.

- Seeing Dean in heaven, finally getting the peace he deserves literally broke me into pieces. Knowing he had to wait for his brother to fully accept it was fitting. He finally gets to be with family and friends and his Baby and when the time comes, his brother. But he’s fine to wait, he knows Sam is living and that’s all he ever wanted. And when Sam finally arrives, he knows this is forever and he will never have to worry again. Cut to me crying all the tears.

- Seeing how strong Sam was literally had me sobbing and was such a change to earlier seasons Sam who either turned into a robot hunter or an angry, revengeful drunk when he lost Dean. He has grown so much and the strength it must’ve taken to move on, have a family, have photos and momentos everywhere reminding him of the family he lost would be heartbreaking. We all know that a large part of Sam died when Dean did but somehow he was able to pull through and make something different out of his life and grief. He did feel Dean with him everyday and he knew they would be reunited someday together. The ultimate sacrifice but a blessing in disguise. Sam was able to continue the Winchester legacy and who knows what his son was doing with his life. Perhaps he inherited the bunker and Baby and signed his own initials next to his family. Maybe he saves people too.

- Sam has always been my favorite character, I definitely consider myself a Sam girl. And I am so happy he got the chance to live a happy, apple pie life as much as he possibly could in his grief. When they showed him breakdown in the impala, I know he felt Dean on the other side right there with him. Not only did he miss him so much but also the old life he used to live, saving people and hunting things next to his big brother in his home on the road. I wonder how often he visited Baby just to try and conjure up those memories of Dean and his friends and his old life he said goodbye to. Almost as if this was Deans grave where he could go to feel close to him and maybe talk to him.

- When Sam died and that haunting cover of Carry On My Wayward Son started playing, I lost it again. I didn’t want to see Sam die, and knowing this was permanent as well was heartbreaking. But also being aware that meant Sam was so close to seeing Dean again made it all okay. It was okay for him to finally let go and get his much deserved peace. He wouldn’t have to suffer anymore and that’s perfect.

Basically this entire episode I cried from start to finish. I thought it was a beautiful finale with callbacks, funny movements, heartbreaking moments, Sam and Dean brotherly love, and finally an ending to this Winchester saga. I always worried how they might decide to end the show. Would they both die bloody? Lose the war? Both live long lives and die in a nursing home? Become monsters? One of the many endings of Chuck? But in the end, this is the best ending they could’ve given us and I really believe that. I know the creative team worked their asses off trying to find a way to end this 15 year journey and I really don’t envy them and that stress but I feel like this felt like Supernatural and really narrowed down the heart and soul of this show. Take everything else out, all the other characters, and you will always have Sam and Dean, the best platonic love story there is. What better way to end than to give them peace and togetherness for all eternity. They have certainly earned it.

Thank you Jared and Jensen for your undying support for these characters and never giving up on this story. Your portrayal has moved me and changed my life. 💕

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam and dean #supernatural finale #carry on #winchester brothers #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #mischa #castiel

192 notes · View notes

plus-size-reader · 3 years

Text

First Impression

Sam Winchester x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1238 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Being a American British man of letters transfer and working with Mary.

Just a start. I just wanted to put this idea out there, let me know how you feel about it

——————————————————————————————————

“I know this has been hard on you, but they’ll come around” you tried, your elbows resting on your knees as you watched Mary, studying her phone.

She had recently just gotten into a bit of a spat with her sons, who didn't think she needed to be working with the BMoL. You weren't surprised that they didn't approve, family and hunting just didn't mix.

You knew that better than anyone.

Still, you knew that telling her that wasn't going to help so you tried to relate instead. “Did I ever tell you why I joined? Why I do this in the first place?” you wondered, doing your best to clear the air with her. In all the time that you two had been partners, you never really bonded.

You didn’t talk to her about anything other than her boys and the things she wasn’t sure about, not that there was much more she wanted to talk about anymore anyway.

Those boys were the most important thing to her, and it was hard for her to be in a bit of an argument with them over this but her heart was in it. She knew that she was doing the right thing.

She just had to wait for them to come around.

“No, I don't think you have” It was the most she’d given you in days, but it was a start and you were sure as hell going to take it.

You weren't really a people person to begin with, something that most hunters had in common but you were partners now. You had to at least try to get to know her if you were going to put your life in her hands and vice versa.

“I used to hunt the hard way, but that sort of thing doesn't work anymore. My family died to prove it” you sighed, you had never told anyone about this before. Since you’d become a BMoL, you hadn’t told anyone about what had happened or why you’d done it.

No one asked and you didn’t bother to tell, it was less messy that way. However, Mary seemed shocked by it.

She knew that people died in the life, but to hear something like that out of your mouth was different. You were someone who she had grown to care for in her time here, but she didn’t even know you’d lost so much.

How could she be so blind to it?

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea” she allowed, setting her phone down to give you her full attention. It was honest and real, the sort of thing that reminded you that she was a mother. Sometimes you forgot that she was more than just a hunter like everyone else here.

She was the kind of mother that cared more about her sons than anything in the world and you couldn’t blame her. You had no idea how you would react if you were in her place, or if you'd be able to hunt at all.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just saying, everyone has their reasons and I won’t judge you for that” you shrugged, glancing down at her phone just enough to catch a glimpse of the various messages she’d sent to her boys.

From where it was currently shining up from the table, you caught just a glimpse of her son, Sam's name flash across the screen. It was the first response she'd gotten in a few hours and you didn't want her to miss it.

“You’d better get that” you smiled, rubbing your hand slightly on her back in circles before leaving entirely.

You wanted to give her the privacy she deserved after all this time. She had been trying to reach them for days, after all.

You didn't hear much about it after that, until of course, for when Mary paged you and asked you to meet her by the front gate. You weren't sure what she wanted, but you would have never guessed that she had someone for you to meet.

Never-the-less, you should have assumed she’d have something up her sleeve. Something, like her son, apparently.

You found Mary almost immediately, standing by the front gate, rocking back and forth on her heels. At her side was a very large man, with long dark hair and a near matching flannel hanging from his shoulders.

As soon as she saw you, a huge smile blossomed on her face, her mood lifted greatly from earlier today when she could hardly draw her eyes away from her phone.

“Ah there you are. Y/N, this is Sam, my son” she announced, showing him off proudly with a grin. She had told you so much about him, but you never thought you’d be meeting him in the flesh.

It was interesting to meet one of her sons after all this time. Even before he spoke, you could see so much in her, and it was brilliant how much he resembled her.

“It’s nice to meet you Sam” you tried, reaching out to take his hand in your own. He hesitated ever so slightly at first, but you didn't let it bother you. Really, you couldn't blame him. after what Toni had done to him, you were surprised he didn’t kill you.

However, once he did take it after a second or two, he offered a small smile back. “Nice to meet you too” He didn’t seem too sure, but given the circumstances, he was being as kind as you could expect.

You were relative strangers, after all.

"Mary has told me all about you, though I have to be honest, I never thought we would meet in person" you admitted, walking alongside him down the hall toward where Mick was waiting for all of you.

Frankly, you weren't sure it was a good idea to try and recruit him, but you didn't know him well enough to make that call.

The Winchesters were very popular American hunters, and very talented in their own way. Still, you knew, just as Mary did, that the BMoL were much better equipped to hunt than they were. You wanted to help them, while they still had a chance to do so.

"I wish I could say the same. Mom hasn't told us much about this place at all" he allowed, knowing just how embarrassing that was to have to admit, not that you took it offensively. Had you been in her place, you wouldn't have either.

"Understandable. You don't like what we do here very much, do you?" you wondered, though you already knew the answer. You understood that Mary wanted what was best for her son's but she couldn't make them do as she said.

They were adults at this point, and could do as they pleased.

"I'm just not sure how trustworthy the whole organization is. No offense" he shrugged, not even hesitating to tell you the truth. He really didn't owe you anything, and you could respect that. You were adults, and he had more than enough to believe what he did about this organization.

All you had to do was try and convince him that he was wrong.

"None taken"

You didn't know very much about Sam quite yet, but you did know that you respected him and the strength it took to stick to his guns. Though, if you thought he was being stubborn, you had another thing coming when you met Mary's oldest child.

158 notes · View notes

ieattaperecorders · 3 years

Note

“What have you done?” for jmart prompts?

Canon divergent, 1.8k, set at the end of S2. Prompt from here.

---

The only good news was that Martin was too tired to think anymore. After the twisting maze of hallways, after the chaos that followed, the police and questioning, he'd gone numb. His emotions had settled until all he felt was a small, quiet weight in his chest. And it was a relief to think that soon he'd be asleep, unable to feel even that.

Two corpses in less than six months. He really didn't like the pattern that was forming.

As he approached the door to his flat -- debating whether to shower and change, or throw himself fully clothed onto the bed --he noticed movement coming from an alcove at the end of the hall. He froze, staring, and the figure stepped into the light.

“Martin. Hello. Um . . . glad I caught you at home.”

Jon’s voice was startlingly steady, as if he was just there to run over some files or something. His body language told the real story -- shifting from one foot to another, holding himself at the elbows and glancing uneasily around.

“J- Jon!?” Martin caught himself just in time, and what might have been a shout came out as a sharp, strained whisper instead. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I need to speak to you . . . I -- I’ve learned some things, and I have to tell you now because I might not be able to later. I think I’ve attracted some, ah, negative attention.”

“No shit!" he kept his voice down, putting the volume into his gestures. "I just spent an hour talking to the police . . . they're probably watching my flat to see if you come here. Which you did!" He waved his arms in Jon's direction. "Why would you come here?!"

"I'm fairly sure I wasn't seen . . . I got in through the fire escape, the window wasn't even locked," he frowned, gesturing back to the other end of the hall. "You really ought to speak with your landlord about making this building more secure."

"Jesus, Jon . . . ."

"And I'm here because you're in danger, Martin," he took a step closer, and Martin felt himself tense. "You and Tim both. But I couldn't . . . Tim wouldn't listen to me if I tried . . . " he glanced at the door to the flat. "May I come in?"

It occurred to Martin that he probably needed to make a decision now. He could call the police, and either coax Jon into staying until they arrived or let him flee into the night. Otherwise . . . well, doing anything besides that would probably land him in trouble if any of his neighbors saw them talking out here.

Jon looked like hell. Disheveled, visibly sweating, clothes smeared with streaks of grey dust. But no blood, Martin noticed. Not a drop.

He was probably going to regret this. Without another word, he opened the door.

Jon seemed to relax a little once inside, out of the semi-public space of the hall. Martin glanced at the windows, relieved to see he'd closed the blinds before leaving that day.

"If I'm making a really big mistake," Martin sighed, locking the door, "and you've come here to kill me or something, I'd appreciate you just getting on with it. It's been a long day."

"Wh--" Jon glared at him. "Of course I'm not . . . don't be ridiculous."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is it upsetting to have someone imply you might be a murderer?" Martin was too tired to resist the mean little edge slipping into his voice. "I wouldn't know, personally."

Jon winced. "I . . . deserve that. I do. But I promise, I -- I'm not a danger to you. I wouldn't -- and I'm not even armed." He raised his hands above his head. "You can pat me down for weapons if you like."

For a moment Martin stared, then sighed and shook his head. "I'll pass."

He walked to the chair nearby and sank down into it. Whatever this was, Martin was at least going to be comfortable for it. Jon lowered his arms and briefly glanced around as if deciding whether he should sit as well, but remained standing.

"I didn't kill him . . . " Jon sighed. "But I don't have any proof, and I know I've been . . . erratic lately. I suppose I can't blame you if you don't believe me."

When he'd found the body, Martin hadn't known what to think. The horror of the scene had been too much, and yeah, he'd had the same thought as Tim -- the same thought as nearly everyone, it seemed. But it didn't feel right. Jon had been reclusive and paranoid, and maybe there was something deeper there that Martin wasn't qualified to guess at. But even if he was full-on delusional, that didn't mean he was violent.

Martin supposed that was what everyone said about killers, that they didn't seem capable of it, they weren't the type. But Jon was still a terrible liar. And there wasn't any blood on his clothes.

". . . I believe you. At least I believe you didn't kill anyone. But, Jon -- God, you've got to know how bad this looks. A body is found in your office, and you go missing. You're not the only one, either, no one can get a hold of Sasha, and it's not as if--"

A pained sound came from Jon, cutting Martin off.

"Sasha's dead," he whispered, and Martin felt his entire body go cold. "She's -- she's been dead for months, and we didn't know, none of us knew and we just kept going as if it was her . . . ."

The tremor in his body reached his voice, his words kept coming, less and less comprehensible. Martin stood and held out his hands, carefully.

"Okay. All right. Just . . . calm down and tell me what happened . . . from the beginning."

It was a little jumbled and twice Jon had to go back and fill in details, but he managed to get it across. What Melanie had seen, what had been on the tape. The thing that had chased him through the tunnels and how he'd been saved by Jurgen freaking Leitner of all people. What Leitner had told him about Gertrude and Elias, and the . . . stranger things he'd said about vast supernatural powers. By the time it was done, Martin's head was spinning.

"That's why I had to warn you . . . " Jon finished, now sat on the far end of Martin's couch, legs drawn up against himself. "Elias killed Gertrude, and I think he might have killed Leitner too, I don't know who else would have done it. And then there's what he said about the Institute. I don't know what it means, exactly, but . . . it isn't good, Martin."

"Okay . . . okay." The idea of dark gods in upper management was too much for Martin to deal with before a good night's sleep. The more tangible parts, that he could focus on. "Jon . . . you need to tell someone about this."

"Why do you think I'm--"

"I mean, like, the police! If you think Elias did this--"

"Who's going to believe me, Martin?" He tilted his head at him sadly. "Like you said . . . it looks bad. How do you imagine they'd react if I came in rambling about dopplegangers and magic books, then went on to accuse a man who can change security footage of murdering someone I've expressed hatred for on tape?"

"Fair point." Martin sighed. He could still picture the hostile, condescending looks he'd been given when he'd tried to explain about Michael.

"But . . . do you believe me?"

"I think I do, yeah," he said after a pause. "I think I saw the -- the Sasha-thing. In the tunnels. I believe you."

Jon let out a long, relieved breath. Martin continued.

"But Jon, you still can't be here. They're going to be watching all of us, it's honestly lucky they didn't see you already."

"I know. I wouldn't ask that, I just came to explain things to you," he sighed, getting to his feet. "I'll leave the way I got in. You should call the police after I go, tell them that you tried to convince me to turn myself in but that I refused. That way if anyone learns I was here, you won't be implicated."

". . . Right."

Martin felt a pull he knew was irrational, to tell him not to go, to at least stay the night here where it was safe. But he knew that was a bad idea. The longer Jon stayed, the more likely things would go badly for both of them. It looked like things would go badly for Jon either way.

It hit him very hard that this might be the last time they saw one another.

"Do you need anything?" Martin asked, reaching for his wallet. "I don't think I have much cash on me, but --"

"Oh . . . No, I . . . that's not necessary," Jon's voice had grown very quiet, and he had a strange look on his face. "I went to an ATM and took out everything as soon as I could. But thank you."

"Are you . . ." he cut himself off. He'd nearly asked Jon if he was going to be all right. Seemed foolish given the circumstances, less of an actual question and more of a plea. Instead, he took a breath and asked, "where are you going to go?"

"I think it's better if you don't know that. Plausible deniability and all."

"Right, let me rephrase that. If the police ask me where I think you're going, what's someplace where you won't be I can suggest?"

"Oh. Oh." Jon swallowed, and looked at him gratefully. "Outside London, I think. And . . . thank you."

Martin nodded. There was nothing more to say. No more excuses to keep him here.

"Be safe," he said, knowing he wouldn't.

Jon nodded. "You as well. Be careful . . . and don't trust Elias."

Then he was out the door, and gone again.

Martin sat in his apartment, alone, long enough to practice what he would say to the police, and long enough for Jon to get some distance away. Then he made the call. He wasn't going to get any sleep that night.

#Anonymous #ficlet #tma fanfic #jonmartin

44 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

HASO, “The New Doctrine.”

Things are heating up a little, and I hope you all enjoy. I will have you know that there was a bit of a time skip in here for Ramirez and Adam, and there are things that happened to them that I might go back and write at a later date.

But for now I am getting back to the Humans are Space Orcs theme, and I thank you for being patient while I went off on a tangent

The sun beat down through the caldera of the mountain, beating don on her skin, and the droplets of water that rolled down her skin in great streams. Water sloshed around her body, ankle dep and kicked up into the air by her swirling feet. The tip of her spear was bright with water, and the white moss around her was almost blinding, so she kept her eyes mostly shut, listening to the rhythmic thud, thud, thud of Naktan’s spear on stone timing out a rhythm for her, fight, a wild dance of imaginary foes an unseen enemies.

The heat of the sun was familiar, a friend to her after all these months fighting, and perfecting her craft under its rays and in all other weathers inclement or not.

She had fought when the rain thundered down and lightning roared overhead. She had fought when the wind roared, and when the ash fell out of season. She had fought during the day and during the night, illuminated by the blue flames of the mountain. She fought until she could fight no longer and then she moved past her exhaustion and continued to fight despite her weariness.

She fought until there was nothing of her left but the repeated spear movements spinning through all four of her hands like a machine that was incapable of making a misstep.

When she was done fighting by herself she fought against Naktan, a warrior so skilled it seemed as if his hands were moved by forces beyond the world in which she stood. He fought as if his entire being was infused with the spirit of war itself. Time and time again she fought him until her bruised body lay on the moss and the dirt, unable to move and unable to think.

He would dress her wounds then, carry her away to a small grouping of coitrees at the back of the bason, where she would rest, and sleep the sleep of the dead. Once done she would be roused form her sleep and forced to begin again despite the fatigue of her body, and the pain of her injuries.

Her entire life was consumed, down to her very dreams which whispered the formes back to her even as she created them.

She was a creature of nothing more than the spear and sleep, more the former than the latter.

She couldn’t have said how long she was top hat mountain, or how many times her body ached with bruises. She couldn’t count her dreams.

But they were always there rife with friends she barely remembered and faced it was hard to recognize.

Moments of clarity reminded her of who she was and what she was doing, but the strange palace and the strange practices didn’t leave her much time for thinking, only fighting. And when they weren’t fighting she was listening to the words of Naktan as he spoke to her on the nature of Drev martial doctrine in its purest state and how it had been perverted and corrupted overtime into something…. Else entirely.

The doctrine of the spear being especially poignant to her. If only that had been the tradition her mother had followed…. Than maybe her life wouldn’t have turned out this way. Maybe she would have been raised by proud parents together in battle instead of one proud parent and another full of bitterness, so torn apart by their differences that they would never fight together again.

She listened to his words, and listened some more, about the nature of fighting itself, and the more she listened the more she understood just how wrong they had been about so many things. War was for honor sure, but it had never meant to become the lynch pin that held the doctrine together. Fighting was about honor and was only to be performed under certain circumstances, protection, and to write wrongs between corrupted nations and uncorrupted nations.

He bemoaned the population of the Drev, so meager and sparse as it was….. Which was an issue Sunny had never considered.

When she asked about technology his words surprised her. It was not, completely heretical, yes technology for the use of CEREMONIAL war was heretical, war between the Drev and the Drev alone, but when it came to other species, all bets were off. You didn’t hold others to the standards of your own nation and expected them to keep it.

Ranged weapons were a part of the universe and a completely new fighting style the Drev were going to have to learn and embrace.

The Drev martial doctrine was supposed to be hard, hard like a stone in a river, but also flexible, like water pouring past obstacles, a delicate balance between honor and practicality. OVer the years, the Drev had perverted those practices by making them too hard, and less flexible, placing those same hard parameters on their young.

Many perfect Drev children had been thrown to the fires for this ideology, and it was fitting that she would change it.

Saying this, he stood and took her by the arm leading her towards a cave in the back of the caldera surrounded by moss almost as black as midnight. He led her inside and towards the back where a forge was burning and huffing out great gouts of flame.

He turned and allowed her to look at the armor pieces lying on the stone floor crude and unfinished.

“I have begun the process for you using the ancient and secret knowledge of prismatic armor…. The armor of the saints. This will be your armor when you finish your work, and your armor when you descend from this mountain exalted. This is the end of your time with me, and there is no more I can do for you. So take up your mantle and begin your work.

Sunny nodded allowing herself to fall into the beating rhythm of metalwork, something that she had not done in a long time, but came back to her with the ease of a skil remembered, and the armor took shape underneath her hands, imperfections burned off by the flames….. A metaphor for herself perhaps.

***

Adam pulled his bag tight over his shoulder as he and Ramirez made their way towards the ship over the Tarmac. He craned his neck to look up at the familiar ship, a back monolith against the sky. The Omen, he had missed her greatly, and all of the people on it. Months of adventuring on strange planets and time to think for himself had certainly made his fondness for the ship grro.

Absence sure did make the heart grow fonder.

A hand rested on his shoulder, and he turned to look over at Ramirez,: who now had the worlds most glorious tan and a new white scar on the side of his neck, “You ready for this.”

“You better believe I am.” he looked up at the ship, “Did my girl miss me.”

“She most certainly did not!”

Jumping in surprise, he turned on his heels to see Narobi and Simon marching down the catwalk and over towards them. Nairobi’s eyes might as well have been filled with thunderheads negating the cheerful orange and yellow bandana she wore over her hair.

She marched right up to him, and jabbed him in the chest with a finger, “Do you know how hard it has been to keep this damn ship running when the person you left to captain CANNOT understand the IMPORTANCE of my work.”

Simon lifted her chin, “Admiral, the readout on the mechanical systems was negligible. I saw no danger from the elevated readings.”

“Do you have a degree in aerospace engineering? I don’t think so, and if you listened to me, you would know that ‘negligible’ can become ‘catastrophic’ very very fast.’

Adam frowned in some measure of concern, “Is the ship alright?”

“Just barely.” Nairobi snapped, no thanks to the Lieutenant.

Simon continued to hold her head high her jaw locked into palace quivering with anger.

Adam held up his hands, “Alright you two, take a few deep breaths and calm down. Nairobi, breathe in and out a few times, and next time sit Simon down and explain to her exactly what could go wrong and how it is likely to happen. Supply numbers and figures, Simon likes that sort of thing.” He turned his head towards Simon, “And Simon, It is important for you to listen to your crewmen. They are experts in their fields and know how to take care of their jobs better than you do. Let people know what you need, tell Nairobi that you need it explained to you in no uncertain terms. Your crew is what keeps your ship alive, and while you are their captain, you are also obligated to listen to their questions and their concerns . it is ALWAYS better to be on the safe side than it is to ignore a potential problem.”

Simon wilted a bit, and Narobi took a deep breath. Eyeing him with…. Some sort of expression he could not place.

She seemed almost surprised..

He ignored it for the time being setting his bag down and drawing himself up in height, “Now, what seems to be the problem.”

“One of our warp gaskets is running a little hot. I think it should be replaced.”

“Do you have a requisition form?”

She held out the holopad, “Right here sir.”

She held it out to him but he shook his head and pointed to Simon, “Simon, I want you to sign and date that. As acting captain of the ship, which you still are until I take command of the bridge.”

“Now both of you play nice.”

Nairobi frowned, but sighed as Simon grudgingly took and signed the requisition form, “We missed you Admiral, the ship….. Hasn’t been the same while you were gone.”

He smiled, “I know I bring a certain charm and roguish panache.”

“Well I was thinking that we don’t almost die nearly so much.”

Ramirez frowned and then looked at him, “You know what, she’s right but “I” i almost died like five times.” He turned to look at Narobi, “I got shot in the chest you know.”

She didn’t ook sorry for him, “Did you deserve it?”

He looked scandalized at her words, “I most certainly did not!”

Adam laughed, “it's Ramirez, of course he deserved it.”

He walked past Narobi and onto the ramp leading up into his ship. The smell was familiar, and hit him in a wave of fuel, and newly requisitioned cargo containers. At his side, Waffles trotted, staring up at him and wagging her tail, clearly happy to have him back since she hadn’t stopped looking at him like that since he returned. Letting her walk off leash she continued to circle him happily, tail whirling around like a furry sort of windmill.

As he stepped into the cargo area, the members of his crew stood up, salutation or greeting him surprising gusto.

They seemed…. Happy to see him.

It felt pretty good.

A few came up to shake his hand and ask how the extended vacation went. He smiled and glanced at ramirez, “As Ramirez here, he got shot.”

There was an eruption of voices and Ramirez excitedly began by telling his, mostly fabricated, tail about a heroic gun battle, proudly showing off his dented deputies badge. That got the reaction he was looking for as other men and women crowded around to oooo and ahhh.”

maverick , appearing from nowhere, looked around the man's shoulder, “Twenty bucks says you bought that at a gift shop somewhere.”

Adam grinned and shook his head, “You know I wouldn’t put it past him either, but actually, the first part of our vacation we visited the Bramble colony got us some horses and rode out for a little fun. We ended up getting kidnapped by bandits.”

“Like you seem to always do.”

“Yes, like I seem to always do, but it turned into a gunfight with the local sheriff’s department and after their leader got away the sheriff asked us to join him on thwarting a train robbery. Ramirez did get shot in the chest, and I got into a gunfight on the back of a speeding train.”

Maverick stared at them, “I’m not sure if I Believe that story or not.”

“You don’t have to, we have pictures and souvenirs of all the places we went .”

“Even have a picture of the guy who gave Ramirez that scar, on our last outing, but I can tell you that later.”

“YOU.”

He sighed quietly, “Here we go.”

He turned on the spot, looking over to see Krill marching up through the ship glowering at him, like only krill, out of all his species, could glower, “I-am-ao-angyr-with-you.

Adam shrugged, “What’s new.”

“Don’t get cute with me. I have been watching your vital signs for weeks, and it's been like riding a rollercoaster. I have never ridden a roller coaster, but do to this experience, I already know that I would very much hate it. You, you were supposed to be on VACATION. You were supposed to be on Vacation for mental health purposes and now i hear that you have been SHOT AT, and jumped onto the back of SPEEDING TRAINS. What makes you think that this is ok!”

“I find that putting your life in danger really brings things into perspective, doctor. Now I promise I will go visit Dr. Adric later for a second opinion, but right now, I need to go inspect my ship.” He patted Krill on the head amused when the little creature nearly burst into a flaming ball of rage. It made him laugh as he worked his way further onto the ship, finally appearing on the bridge with a deep breath.

“Admiral on deck!” Someone shouted, and the entire room raised their feet in greeting him their hands raised in excitement welcoming him back with no shortage of enthusiasm and relief. He bet he knew why. Simon was….. Well she was a bit of a stick in the mud sometimes, even more so when she got nervous. He had a feeling things on the ship had become a little more strict since he had taken his leave of absence.”

He went to go take his seat in the captain's chair and frowned, “Dammit Simon, what have you been doing here. It took him almost five minutes to adjust his seat back into its preferred position, and then when he turned on his holo projections he frowned, “Simon! What the hell did you do.”

“I reconfigured it for maximum efficiency.”

“To me it looks like you broke it. Damn where the hell is everything.”

It took him about two hours to even partially recover what simon had “fixed.” And even then he was still having trouble finding everything. He would have liked to get off the ground that day, but it didn’t seem like that was going to be happening. He dismissed the rest of the crew to rework the computers back to his preferred state.

Simon called it inefficient, but he called it comfortable and familiar, which is what mattered when it came to being a pilot. He promised her when she became the captain of her own ship she could do whatever the hell she wanted.

Sitting there, alone in the dark for hours on end, he tried not to think about the one person he had hoped to see when he came back. He tried as hard as he absolutely could not tothink, but still the thoughts slipped in anyways.

He pulled the ship into orbit just before lights out with the help of the night crew, and then surrendered command to the night lieutenant giving orders to head in the direction of Europa station before he stepped out into the darkened hallway.

Alone and with his own throughs, he grew morose and sour upon thinking.

Waffles bumped her head softly against his hand and he ran his fingers along her velvety ears, “Yeah I’m an idiot.”

“Certainly.”

He jumped shocked for a moment thinking she had spoken before realising the voice….. The voice wasn’t female number one, and number two it had a certain air of condescension that he knew and recognized all too well.

“Hello Conn.”

Ethereal silver ribbons took their form around the next corner as Conn floated closer his wide black eyes shining back at Adam from the darkness, “Admiral. I am glad to see you are doing better.”

He grunted, “Save me te platitudes Conn.”

“No really, I am glad, you see I am the only one here who has to share your necrosis, which can be rather loud and bothersome sometimes when I am trying to relax.”

“I am sorry my mental anguish invoenianced you.”

“Apology accepted.”

Adam sighed deeply.

“She’s not here you know.”

He blinked feeling his skin go cold and clammy, “She’s not.”

“Yes, she has not been back for months now.”

He took a deep shaky breath, “Oh…. I see.”

“When she left, she did seem intent on returning, but I cannot know if those inclinations have changed.”

“How long?”

“She didn’t know. She was still deciding on her next course of action…. Also, you might want to turn around.”

“Turn around, why would I want to-” He was turning even as he spoke, and just in time so it seemed to be punched squarely in the jaw. He fell over backwards slamming into the floor with a loud rattle seeing stars, his face aching. He scrambled to regain himself but went slack again when he looked up and saw Cannon standing over him, a look of absolute rage on his alien face.

He grabbed Adam by the front of the shirt and hauled him upright and into the air so his feet were kicking a good two feet off the ground. He could feel the fabric of his shirt straining against his weight as he was slammed back against the wall.

“You BASTARD!”

It translated to bastard in english, but underneath the words he could hear the phrase Cannon actually used. The Slur that in Drev was more closely related to corward.

His first instinct was to struggle, but then, he thought better of it, allowing himself to go limp in cannon’s hands as he quietly said, “I know.”

Cannon slammed him back against the wall again, “NO YOU DON’T KNOW. DO YOU EVEN REALIZE WHAT YOU’VE DONE.”

He stared up at Cannon in confusion, “I-”

“No of course you couldn’t understand, you’re human. You don’t give a shit about your romantic partners, you just up and leave them, constantly. Cherry picking them and squeezing the life out of them until your done just to discard them.”

“Cannon I-”

“Drev only-love-once. Just ONCE.”

Adam blinked in surprise and shock as those words sank in.

On of Cannon’s hands migrated to his throat, and he choked against the crushing force on his windpipe, “She will never love anyone ever again, you understand. Its biology, and nature, but you humans just don’t understand that do you. You don’t understand loyalty. Instead you pick out partners like you’re going grocery shopping, or getting a taste to see which ice cream flavor you like more.”

Cannon’s grip grew tighter, “Well she is my SISTER…. Not an ice cream flavor.”

Adam’s vision was beginning to blacken and he kicked weakly in an attempt to escape.

“And then you just upland left without explanation. You left her to deal with that all on her own, and now I don't know where she is, or what she is doing.”

His hearing was echoing, and hi entier vision had gone black.

At some point Cannon must have seen his face turning purple and finally dropped him. Adam hit the floor and collapsed gasping for air and holding his neck as he rolled onto his back.

“Pathetic.” Cannon snarled

Adam was admittedly very scared, he had never seen Cannon like this before. Usually so laid back and relaxed.

He sat up still holding his neck and wheezing, ‘I get it…. I get it I fucked up. I know that, I know.”

“DO YOU! Do you understand what you’ve done!”

“She is going to be alone for the rest of her life because of YOU.”

Adam flinched holding a hand over his head to avoid being struck, “It wasn’t meant to be permanent!”

Cannon paused, “What do you mean.”

“I mean I…. well. I just wanted to be able to get myself together without hurting her more. I didn’t want to force her to be with me, when I wasn’t ready or able. Now I can see that that was a mistake I made when I wasn’t in the right place. I didn’t intend to leave forever.”

“Than why didn’t you TELL HER THAT.”

Adam scrambled backwards across the floor as Cannon came marching after him, arms held to his sides ready to fight.

Adam held up a hand to cover his face.=, and Cannon had just drawn back his fist when Both of their implants began beeping.

They paused in their Drama looking down at their arms.

Adam frowned.

Cannon tapped his wrist, “What is this?”

“ITs a transmission from Anin.” he crawled to his feet, “Come on, lets go see what this is about.”

Their Argument forgotten for the moment, the two of them ran onto the bridge and Adam pulled up the transmission, flipping it on just long enough to see a message scrawled in the Drev language to rolling across screen that translated to.

“The spirit of the mountain burns blue, and the saints have returned.”

“Spirits save us.” Cannon whispered.

Adam shook his head in consternation, “No way…. But cannon, no on has been sainted in…. In.”

“Over five centuries. We must go, as the Sentinel of our clan you will be required to appear if you are able, and anyone other Drev whose feet can carry them far enough.”

“Right, setting a course for Anin.”

*** Sunny Knelt on the stone floor of the cavern, eyes closed breathing deeply. The fire of the forges were doused and she was left in semi-darkness.

Soft footsteps approached, and she looked up slowly to find Naktan standing before her, over the neatly arranged pile of armor that glowed like a freshly polished pearl in the light above…. The armor of saints.

Only relics of similar armor had ever been found, and only ever in pieces.

This was the only full suit of its kind.

“It is time.”

He held out his hands, and in them he held a large scroll made out of the most rare of Coiltree paper, “The words written here are your words, the Doctrine of Drev martial combat and law. Penned in my own hand it contains firstly, the doctrines and second the forms of the new fighting styles to be decementated throughout the class.”

She nodded.

“Take up your mantle Saint of the Burning Sun, and so we shall begin a new age.”

She stood, and he knelt before her strapping on the first piece o her new armor from the feet up, interlocking the masterfully crafted pieces the color of pearl, stronger than steel. Until lastly he placed the helmet upon her head and locked it into place

It was heavy in a comforting sort of way.

A moment later he returned, “The last piece I gift to you is a weapon made by my own hand.” It was pearlescent like the white of the armor she no wore, “Stronger than steel, and as sharp as obsidian. None but I know the materials and methods to craft this, and none shall ever know until I pass it down to a successor.” he handed her the scroll, “Begin your trek down the mountain, and there they will be waiting to hear your words.”

She nodded, “Thank you Naktan….. Thank you.”

He placed a hand on her arm in a friendly gesture before urging her on.

She did as told walking, for the first time in so many months towards the opening of the caldera.

When she stepped outside she was momentarily dazzled by the glowing blue fire that roared up from around her.

The mountain seemed to shake and burn in ways she had not seen before erupting from all sides as if it knew.

Blue light poured off her body like water, and with her head held high she began her way down the mountain.

***

Adam and Kanan stood at the edge of the hotspring, packed in with the rest of a restless crowd. Adam’s eyes were wide, Dazzled by the glowing inferno that was the fiery blue mountain. He had never seen anything like it. It burned with such glorious blue intensity that he could scarcely look at it, and it rubmeld so violently he could feel it in his feet.

He wore his ceremonial Drev armor, all the way up to the helmet and down into the cape. A spear was held in his right hand as he stood sentinel for the Wandering tribe, next to the rest of the clan leaders that had made their trek here.

They stood, for hours and hours as the mountain burned, casing a beacon of blue light down around them.

Thousands of drev trickled in from all sides whispering and murmuring at the strange scene before them. But still they were mostly silent, unsure of what to do or how to behave. Adam didn't know what to expect.

His human leg ached under the weight of the heavy armor as the sun began to rise slowly in the distance, but discipline, discipline he had learned in his travels kept him in his place, unmoving.

They waited and waited and waited until the Sun painted the sky peach with its rising.

And from the sulfuric fog of the hotspring, the watched as a figure coalesced as a shadow in the mist, walking calmly across the open hotspring field

A asp rose up, as those, still in disbelief began to realise that this was real.

Adam stared forward engaging his mechanical eye and zooming in on the figure.

The fog parted like a curtain to reveal a glorious almost ethereal drev warrior in pearl white armor just as the sun crested over the horizon. The light hit the armor, and rays of prismatic light exploded around them.

The waiting crowd gasped and threw up their hands to cover their eyes. The light was so pright Adam had to cover his human eye, and only after he filtered out the brighter wavelengths was he able to see.

And when he did his knees went weak.

“Sunny!”

Cannon heard the words and forced himself to stare into the bright light, but after a moment of looking Adam heard him, “Spirits above….” His voice trailed off

She walked slowly and with great purpose over the steaming landscape, glittering like constellation fallen from the sky.

Adam fel his heart racing and his stomach churn in flips.

A small part of him, for a single instant bittered towards her, for going out and becoming THIS while he was away.

But then the rest of him, stamped that thought out with a vengeance feeling a glowing of pride inside for her and what she had become. She was better than he was, than he had ever been and he could see now that he had never deserved to even stand in her presence. He felt small even as pride for her burned through his veins like the molten blue fire on the mountain.

She paused just ahead of them, standing on the white bed of the hotsprings.

“Brothers and sisters.”

Her voice echoed like rolling thunder.

His heart only beat faster, his stomach turning somersaults.

“Long has it been since the spirits spoke, since they have changed the martial doctrine of our people. Long have we been left to suffer in words and actions corrupted by time and foolish interpretations. Today I am here to lead the Drev into a new and brighter age, but also to bring us back to the true and pure doctrines that once were, before being so morally corrupt. See the mountain behind me, and the armor with which I ware, and if any of you dare to challenge my legitimacy, let him step into the circle with me.”

She stared around at the crowd, her eyes seeming to glow with fire.

His heart sped up and then stopped as her eyes passed over him, and then turned to fall upon him again.

It seemed as if she could see right through him, and his innards felt s if they melted and trickled down into his leg.

“Does no one wish to challenge me.”

The plateau was silent.

“By deferring to my word you accept my legitimacy, and therefore the legitimacy of my words. THe doctrines will be handed out to all peoples young and old, for copy and study. The day changes now, and my first and greatest decree is a return to the true doctrine of the spear, “If a Kit is born above the raging fires, and possesses the ability to hold a weapon, than they shall not be cast into the fire.”

There was a gasp up around them.

“It may have one arm, or no legs, or no eyes, or be blind or be deff, or have no carapace of which to speak, but if they can hold a spear than they shall live.”

The thunder of her words rocked him to his very bones, so he could only have imagined what it did t the others, an entire people who had been living differently for hundreds of years. How would they react, would they accept her words.

But looking up at her, he knew what his choice would be.

He wouldn’t dare challenge her.

She was the truth made corporeal.

She was A saint.”

209 notes · View notes