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elizabeethan · 3 years

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Spaces Between Us Chapter 10: Over Again

The hardships of real life separated them six years ago, and Emma has been struggling to put that fact behind her ever since. But then, only after she’s convinced herself that she’s moved on and that her new life is enough, Killian Jones comes back.

A Captain Swan Modern AU

A/N: Not much to say here. Mentions of what Emma went through in the previous chapter, as well as some minor medical stuff. Message me if you need more info!

Thank you, as usual, to my beta and friend @the-darkdragonfly, and to @donteattheappleshook and @xhookswenchx for listening to my ramblings and helping me figure out the plot to this <3

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~~~~

Emma is stuck. She knows what will make her happy, what will make things right for her, and she can’t get there. Any move she makes, someone suffers, and she can hardly stand it any longer. While she originally thought that a separation would lead to her potentially losing her son, she fears now that doing anything to inconvenience her husband could mean real, immediate threats to their physical safety, and she has no idea what to do. She’s feeling so hopeless that she can hardly get herself out of bed on time to walk Henry to school the next morning.

Walsh isn’t home when she wakes, although she isn’t sure when he left because she spent another night in the guest room. While she would normally text Killian minimally, she found that she felt so despondent last night that she couldn’t pick up her phone. While he normally makes her feel a sense of calm safety, her argument with her husband and the imminent threat of danger against her and Henry erased any feelings of positivity that she had.

Of course, it was foolish of her to use Killian as a means to feel good about her life when she knows how bad it is. Having him has been great, but it doesn’t address the root of her problems, and she’s starting to see that with more and more clarity. She can see now that, despite how soothing his presence has been over the last few months, things are as bad as ever-- worse-- and last night served as a wake up call to that fact. The depression that has plagued her for six years, the blackened shadow that she thought Killian had shown a light upon, has settled itself over her heart once again.

Henry’s quiet on their short walk to school, as if he can read her demeanor, and it makes the tears continue to flow from her eyes until they feel frozen on her cheeks. She can’t believe that she’s let this affect him so much that he can tell that she’s feeling this way. It only serves as another reminder of her shortcomings as a mother.

He hugs her so tight when they get to school that she dreads letting go, wishing she could steal him away and run as fast and as far as they can, but she knows that could never happen. Whatever she does, Walsh and his cohorts will find them, of that she’s certain.

She’s on her way back to the house, unsure of how to spend her Friday and desiring not to see anyone who can tell her something she already knows. She doesn’t need to hear from her sister about how horrible her life has become. She doesn’t need to hear from Killian about how desperately he wants to get her away from her husband.

Of course, what she needs doesn’t seem to be on the universe’s radar, because before she can make it halfway home, the squad car is pulling up behind her and parking, the driver’s door swinging open violently.

“Emma!” he calls, jogging towards her and stopping short just in front of her. “Emma, what’s… I didn’t hear from you last night.”

There’s nothing she can say or do, because his tone suggests that he’s upset with her, and she can’t handle that now. So she cries.

“Killian,” she sobs, flinching away from him when he reaches his arms out towards her.

“Love, talk to me. Come on, we can go somewhere safe.”

“I’m not safe,” she shakes her head. “We aren’t--”

“Emma,” he says, trying hard to calm her panicked breathing by lightly holding the tops of her arms. “You’re safe right now. Henry’s at school and he’s safe too. Let’s go to the station and I can jump your car, aye? Or, my mate, Will, works at a garage. He can sort it out. Let’s just… let’s get off the street, alright?”

She looks around, worried that someone may see her mid-breakdown, but there’s no one around so she follows him and gets into the car.

It takes longer than it should for her to realize that they aren’t going to the station. Instead, he parks in his usual spot in front of his apartment, turning towards her after he surveys the area and determines there to be no one around. With urgency, he gets out of the car and rounds to her door before she can even undo her seatbelt, opening the door and holding his hand out for her.

She squeezes his hand harder than she needs to, her knuckles going white as they walk up the stairs and inside the door. He says something when they get inside but she doesn’t hear him, the whole world sounding like she’s under water as she continues to realize just how bad things have gone for her. He says her name again and again, running his thumbs along her cheeks to wipe away her tears until she can finally meet his eyes with hers. It’s only once she recognizes the pure fear in his eyes that she’s able to snap herself out of it and focus on the sound of his voice.

“Killian,” she croaks, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Emma, please talk to me,” he practically begs her, his voice soft and gentle but filled with terror as he kisses her eyelids and her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “What’s going on? What did he do?”

“He didn’t hurt me,” she promises. She finally allows herself to take in a deep breath and falls against his chest, practically collapsing against him and letting him support the full brunt of her weight. Before she can say anything else, she lets out a loud, painful sob.

He scoops her up easily, cradling her against his chest as he carries her to the couch and holding her in his lap, grabbing for a throw blanket and wrapping her up tightly and holding her together both literally and metaphorically. He whispers in her ear about how he’s here, she’s safe, he won’t let anything happen to her, but she knows he has little control over that.

“I’m so scared,” she cries against his neck, squeezing her thighs over his hips to try and get closer to him.

“Would you tell me what happened, my love?” he asks gently, and though she can tell that he’s still a ball of nerves, he tries to hide it in order to soothe her. “Why don’t we get in the bath, aye? A nice warm tub always makes you feel better.”

“Stay with me?” she asks, almost begging, and he nods.

“I’ll always, always be by your side, love.”

She nods, letting him help her off the couch, though she’s starting to think more clearly. He guides her into the bathroom, and although the tub isn’t too big, he always holds her close enough to keep her warm despite her shoulders and knees sticking out of the hot water.

He starts the tub, filling it with the soap he knows she likes the best and sitting her on the toilet gently and running his fingers through her hair. He takes the elastic from her wrist and starts delicately pulling it around her golden strands, lifting them into a high bun so that they can escape the water. Once her hair is taken care of, he starts at the zipper of her sweatshirt, trailing his fingers slowly as he opens it and pulls it off of her shoulders. He folds the garment carefully and places it on the counter before returning his hands to her back, unhooking her bra and placing it atop her shirt before he drops a tender, loving kiss to her forehead that silently tells her everything she needs to hear.

The act of him undressing her seems so simple, but it’s so incredibly personal and intimate. She’s finally able to breathe, to let her mind rest, to close her eyes and not see burning anger staring back at her. She knows she can’t rely on him to make everything better for her, but she can certainly appreciate how much he helps her.

He takes off her leggings too, pulling her underwear down with them, and folds each piece of clothing to add to the small pile. Once she’s undressed, he places her towel around her shoulders and begins to remove his own clothes, placing them next to hers, and she can’t help but long sadly over how good the two outfits look together on his bathroom counter. He plants another soft kiss to her forehead, then her eyelids, then her lips, before he turns and determines that the tub is full enough.

He instructs her to stand with a gentle, “come, love,” placing his hand on the small of her back and carefully guiding her to the tub. He holds her hand as she lets herself sink, feelings of panic and hopelessness melting into the hot water and dispersing further when he climbs in and settles against her back. She lets her head drop backwards against his shoulder and holds his forearms as they wrap tightly around her middle.

In the gentle silence of the tub, the only sounds filling the room their breathing and the steady drip from the faucet, she finally feels somewhat glued together. She can stop thinking about how her life is crumbling around her and allow herself to feel whole in his arms. It’s a reminder of how easy the last few months have been. How easy it’s been to ignore the weight of her situation and of her desperate depression in favor of focusing on the light and warmth he’s brought into her life.

She gives herself a few moments to feel at peace, safe and comforted in his arms, before she moves to turn around. It proves difficult in the small tub, his legs getting tangled in hers, but she’s eventually able to settle herself on his lap and face him, her fingers sliding into his hair and dampening it slightly. He rests his own on her waist, soothingly scratching her skin with his soft fingertips. “Love,” he murmurs in the quiet, and the soft word is enough to break her just enough.

Falling forward, she lets her lips envelop his and holds him to her as closely as she can possibly manage. He kisses her back easily, letting his tongue smooth over her bottom lip as she sighs into his mouth. She feels a sense of desperation to be as near to him as possible; to allow him to care for her and love her in the way that her husband would rather die than do.

“Emma,” he breathes against her mouth, and she whimpers at the loss of him as he pulls away to look at her.

“I need you,” she pleads in a whisper. “Please, I just… I need you to love me.”

“I do love you,” he promises, matching her tone. “More than anything. Nothing will ever change that.”

He can read her, of course. She knows because he takes her face in his hands and kisses her with hot ferocity that gives her exactly what she needs. He tells her again and again that he loves her as she desperately lifts her hips over his and slides him into her. She’s hot and tense and needy, and the feeling of him gliding into her brings her home.

She’s never cried during sex before. But the way he kisses her and cradles her in his arms and bends his knees to support her backside against his thighs makes her feel so solid. She feels the opposite of how she felt last night and the opposite of how she feels each time she’s with Walsh. She loves Killian so much, and it’s killing her to be so trapped in her marriage to another man.

Emma cries out her love for him while she comes hard around his cock, and he kisses away her tears and holds her as close to him as he can while he comes too. “Baby,” he chokes out as he bites her shoulder, the way he only does when he’s so emotional and he’s come so hard that he doesn’t have a filter.

Finally, when their breathing has quieted and they’ve loosened their grips on each other just slightly, he mumbles into her neck, “I just want what’s best for you and your boy, Emma.”

“It’s you,” she says without hesitation. “It is. But he--” she chokes on her words and lets her head fall against the warm firmness of his chest.

“Emma, please,” he begs. “Please talk to me. Let’s get you dried off and I’ll make you something to eat.”

“I can’t eat,” she whispers.

“Please,” he says again, kissing her temple. “Just try for me, alright? I’m sure you’ve barely eaten since yesterday.”

She nods, and when they finally make their way out of the water, he dries her tenderly with the towel he keeps for her and gives her the privacy she needs to get dressed. Being alone in his bathroom isn’t as bad as she was expecting, her feelings of anxiety and terror creeping back but not debilitatingly so. Just being in his home where she knows no one will find her is enough to soothe her aching heart. When she’s finally dressed, she creeps into the kitchen slowly, hugging her arms around her waist before he hoists her up onto the counter beside the stove and kisses her nose softly.

He cracks a second egg into a bowl and starts beating them quickly, reminding her where she got the recipe for Henry’s favorite scambied eggies in the first place as he splashes in some cream and dusts in some seasonings. He holds his hand over the pan to test the temperature and then pours the eggs in slowly, the mixture looking more perfect than anything she’s ever been able to duplicate.

“There we are,” he says as he plates them and places them on the small table, the very one they sat at months ago when they decided that they could never be apart from one another. She hops down from the counter and follows his lead, sitting at her usual seat and poking her fork into the perfect, fluffy eggs he’s prepared for her.

He jokes with her lightheartedly as she eats, and she feels herself smiling at him although her sordid mind tries to stop her. He tells her about the shenanigans his friend Will has gotten into while he’s been sheriff, and about his worries that he’s bending the rules by letting certain things slide. He tells her how much he enjoyed spending time with her son yesterday, and she’s reminded of how much his own father resents him.

“Okay,” she finally mumbles, fueled by how horribly her husband has wronged her son. She stands up, places the empty plate in his sink, and moves to sit on his lap.

She recounts the evening as best she can, telling him about how Walsh had kissed her and taken it farther than she was comfortable the moment he touched her, although he didn’t stop right away. He tightens his grip on her, holding her close against his chest as she goes on about his fist colliding with the wall just beside her head. He runs his hand up and down her spine and kisses her temple as she tells him what her husband said about being a father. She tells him what Walsh said about her ruining his life and his desire to punish her, and she feels his breathing quicken. He listens to every word and stays silent long after she finishes her story.

“Emma,” he finally chokes, “I need to get you out of there.” She shakes her head forcefully against his chest.

“He said--”

“Fuck what he said,” he says, cutting her off more forcefully than she thinks he meant to. “I’m the sheriff. What you’ve described is abuse. Physical threats. Unwanted sexual advances. Even punching the wall qualifies as interpersonal violence. All you have to do is make a report and--”

“No, Killian, I can’t. He’ll know…”

“Darling,” he insists, cupping her cheek and massaging his fingers against her scalp, “the law can keep you safe. I can keep you safe. I know I’m biased, but I have dealt with things like this in the past. I have experience supporting battered women.”

She gulps and takes a heavy breath, her lungs burning as she does so at the mention of her being battered. The title makes her cringe. She feels weak. “He has his… bodyguards. I’ve never seen them do anything, but I know they have a reputation. They’ll find me and Henry and they’ll… they'll make me pay.”

“So we leave, get you the protection you need. We can get you a safehouse, I have pull here, love.” she sighs. “I know it’s difficult to think of yourself as having fallen into this situation. A lot of women struggle to see themselves as a victim. But you are, my love, and the department can help you.”

She sighs again and rests against his chest. Just as she’s about to formulate her thoughts, to try and put into words just how terrified she is of how wrong things can go, how scared she is to make any more waves, but how badly she wants to escape-- just as she’s about to agree with him and make a plan to get away-- her phone starts ringing and she jumps. Killian reaches for it and shows her the screen.

Storybrooke Elementary flashes across the screen, and her heart drops into her stomach as she slides her finger across to answer the phone.

It’s Henry, of course. They've called an ambulance; it’s five minutes away. His rescue inhaler isn’t working.

Killian has his coat on before she even finishes the call, ushering her towards the door and slamming the car into reverse before he throws the sirens on.

~~~~

The world is a blur, and he’s never seen his Emma in such distress before. He thought he’d seen the worst of it earlier while she was recounting the way her husband had attacked her the night before, but when she watches helplessly as her son struggles for breath, clinging his hands to hers in fear, he goes white and feels nauseous. He’s never met someone stronger than Emma Swan, and right now, she’s breaking.

She cries into his chest while the doctors wheel him through the double doors through which she isn’t allowed to follow. The boy has lost consciousness, and they must act quickly. Her fingers dig into his neck and shoulders as she clings to him as if it’s the only thing keeping her from drowning in her sea of terror. If she loses her son, she loses everything.

Eventually, blessedly, after she’s caught her breath and exhausted herself to the point where she can no longer shed any tears, a doctor comes out to meet them and informs her that her son is alright. His asthma has gotten worse and they will need to begin more extensive treatments, but he’s sleeping soundly in bed and she can go and see him in a moment. But first, he asks to speak with her alone, and Killian steps away out of ear shot, only able to watch as her face falls and her shoulders sag.

~~~~

“Henry’s asthma is very severe, and it seems to be getting worse,” the on-call pulmonologist, Dr. Whale, says. “Is that from your’s or dad’s side of the family?”

Emma shrugs anxiously. “Neither of us have it in our family. He was premature.”

He raises a brow doubtfully and gives her a look that makes her feel small and incorrect. “Are you sure? What was his birth weight? Perhaps you got the date of conception wrong?”

“I didn’t,” she snaps sensitively. The judgement she’s receiving from him is setting her on edge, even more so than she has been all day. “I knew the exact date of conception, and he was a month early.”

He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, and says, “Mrs. Oswald--”

“Emma.”

“Emma… Henry’s asthma is severe. It’s indicative of being genetically inherited. While four weeks is certainly early, being premature would not have led to this level of symptomatology.”

She screws her brows together and glares at him, her heart beating forcefully against her chest as she asks, “what are you implying?”

“What I’m implying, ma’am, is that your son’s condition is more than likely a genetic one. Meaning it was inherited from either yourself, or his father. If you don’t have asthma in your family, perhaps you missed something. Or your husband did. Or… I might suggest that Henry’s--”

“That’s enough,” she demands, holding up her hand to silence him. Through her denial and her refusal to consider something that seems more and more possible, she lets her shoulders drop in defeat.

When Killian came to her months ago, she refused to hear his suggestion that he was actually Henry's father. It wasn’t because she didn’t want him to be, or because she was desperate for Walsh to be. It was because, if Killian truly is Henry’s father, that means she spent six years of her life with a man who hates her and her son. She put her child through emotional neglect for his entire life without meaning to at all. The last night they spent together, with the breakup sex and the crying, Emma was on the pill, but looking back, she hadn’t been taking it regularly enough in her stress as they considered ending their relationship.

When she found out she was pregnant, she couldn’t stand the idea of it being Killian’s because it would mean she made the wrong decision. She shouldn’t have given him that ultimatum and she should’ve swallowed her pride and gone with him to London because that’s what you do when you become a parent. You make sacrifices. And she didn’t do that.

So she unwittingly convinced herself for over half a decade that the man she spent one night with had impregnated her and went along with his charade of a happy, well adjusted family. It isn’t as if she ever truly knew that the baby was Killian’s, not really. She hardly noticed any pregnancy symptoms until a few weeks after she was with Walsh, and unknowingly allowed that to trick her mind into thinking it was his. Her denial was so strong, her heartbreak so painful, that she didn’t even allow herself the chance to consider another possibility. When she realized her terrible mistake soon after they were married, she realized she couldn’t undo what she’d done, so she let herself fall deeper into her denial and held her head up as she grinned and beared the treatment she now realizes she never deserved. The treatment she now realizes she never had to endure in the first place.

“What, um,” she starts nervously, gnawing at her bottom lip as she turns quickly towards Killian and then back at the judgemental face of Dr. Whale. “What sort of information would you need to determine whether… whether Henry is…”

“Do you have any inclination on who the father could be?” He asks, seemingly able to read her mind. Neither of them proposed the possibility of Henry not being Walsh’s son, but it seems as though this doctor senses the source of her internal struggle. “If we had information on the genetic factors of his condition, it could help us determine the best course of treatment.”

She nods immediately. “Yes, I do.”

~~~~

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pyrobane-fandom-space · 3 years

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Significant Strides in Relations

Author: Merlyn Bane

Word Count: 10.3K (shut up, don't @ me okay)

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi manages to catch the attention of his attache on a diplomatic mission.

Warnings: Adult Content™. Strong language, smut. Virgin!Obi I guess. Unprotected sex--wrap it up!

A/N: Did I come back from the dead just to post some completely self-indulgent bullshit? Yes I did. This is like 3.7K worth of smut with like 5K worth of justification and like 1K of Skywalker bullshit at the end and I'm not sorry about any of it. I would also just like to blame @no-droids and their Open Door series for giving me a Thing for Obi-Wan in the first place.

(gif found on google, not mine)

You want to fuck the Jedi.

And, yeah, sure, you feel a little bit bad about it. You know enough about the Order to know that that's something the Jedi don't do--if the poor man knew the direction your thoughts had taken, he'd probably be scandalized. You can clearly imagine his face turning, just, scarlet, especially because you do mean fuck.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is visiting your planet on a diplomatic mission that you haven't been briefed on the particulars of, and you've been assigned to him as an attaché during his stay--tending to his needs, making sure he's comfortable while he's here. It's a function you've performed many, many times as part of your duties to the royal family, but Kenobi has been...particularly pleasant, to work with. The Jedi is kind, treats you like an equal even though you're technically working for him for the time being, and he's funny. You hadn't realized the Jedi were allowed a sense of humor, but Maker, this one is sarcastic, constantly teasing with a playful glint in his blue eyes that is...not helping you with the whole 'wanting to irredeemably corrupt him' problem that you're currently having.

You show up at his quarters just before breakfast to collect him as you have for the last two days and he's already there waiting for you, opening the door just as you're coming to a stop in front of it. Kenobi gives you a gracious smile as he steps into the hallway with you, letting the door slide closed behind him, and you return it before turning to start making your way to the dining hall. He falls in step next to you and despite the fact that he really isn't walking that close to you, you swear you can feel him there. "Good morning, young one."

You snort softly, scrunching your nose up as you give him an unimpressed side-eye. "Young one? You realize I'm within five years of you? I think you spend too much time with your old padawan and not enough with your peers, Kenobi."

The Jedi chuckles next to you, looking suitably sheepish as he grins over at you. "My apologies, my lady," he says, and you can tell that he's teasing you lightly. You roll your eyes but don't correct him--no, instead you internalize it, and his innocent my lady gets cataloged away with the rest of the impure thoughts that have been plaguing you since you saw him in the great hall upon his arrival. "I meant no offense."

"None was taken."

The conversation sort of just...drifts off, and you take the time to study his features out of the corner of your eye while he's looking ahead. The Jedi is...handsome, and frankly you think it's very unfair of the Order to lock all of that up under a chastity vow. The lines of his face are classical, look like they could have been carved from marble--only accentuated by the scruff of the beard lining a jaw you kind of want to sink your teeth into.

And, Maker. His eyes. The clearest crystal blue, like twin glaciers, piercing directly into your soul every time you meet them but...gentle. Always gentle. You know he's as talented a warrior as he is a negotiator, you've heard the stories, but you would never know it from his pretty eyes.

"What are your plans for the day, Master Kenobi? Since there won't be any official matters taking place today." It's the third day of the week, and on your planet it is considered inappropriate to do such work then. Most of your people will be in services today, to include the royal family. You probably should be, but you had offered to stay behind and continue to assist the Jedi--you've never cared for such things, anyway, and you certainly think he makes for better company.

Kenobi turns his head just enough to give you a small smile before he looks forward again, humming softly as he considers his answer. "I will likely confer with the Council this afternoon, update them on how the negotiations are going. Perhaps I will take some time to meditate, as well. You may have most of the day to yourself." It's quiet for a moment, then: "And you may just call me Obi-Wan, if you wish."

Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan--

It does not escape your attention that this isn't an offer that was even extended to your employers, who he's supposed to be here on the sole purpose of brokering an agreement with. They've still been using titles with each other, you know they have. Fuck. "Obi-Wan," you repeat, hoping that it escapes his notice how much you find that you like the way it feels on your tongue. Obi-Wan. "If you find you have the time, later, maybe I could show you around a little more. There are some places on the palace grounds I think you might enjoy."

The Jedi hums again, and you can see that he's still smiling when you look over at him. "I will certainly keep that in mind."

You reach the dining hall only a few minutes later, and go your separate ways once you've gotten your food. You find a seat at one of the far tables tucked into a corner that's already populated by a couple of your fellow staff members, making sure to sit so that you're facing him so he can get your attention if he needs it. You're being elbowed almost the second your ass hits the seat, the girl to your left clearly desperate for whatever gossip she thinks you have as she leans in and whispers at you in hushed tones.

"Maker, you've got a dreamy one. You're so lucky, I was assigned to--"

You're not even listening, not really--tuning her out while you tuck into your breakfast. You suppose you don't have any real right to be so annoyed with her, truthfully, given that you've been having similar thoughts about him yourself all morning and for most of the last couple of days, but you find that you are anyway. The girl doesn't even seem to realize that you're ignoring her, continuing to chatter at you until one of the other people at your table manages to redirect her attention, if not the subject.

You tell yourself that the reason your attention stays focused on the Jedi is in case he needs you for anything but you're not very convincing, even to yourself. Your mind wanders while you eat, formulating scenarios that all seem to end with Obi-Wan between your thighs. Most of these thoughts are generally nonsensical, idle flashes and half-strung together images, but some of them come through with alarming clarity.

I want to suck his cock.

The Jedi suddenly chokes on whatever it is he's just eaten.

You instinctively shift to stand up to try and help him but his companion is already there, smacking his back with more force than you think is probably necessary and laughing loudly enough that you can hear him from your table. Skywalker, you think his name is. He's still chuckling when they settle back down, despite the thoroughly unamused looks Obi-Wan is shooting him. You snort quietly to yourself and Skywalker turns his head to look at you like he can sense your eyes on them. Your eyes meet for a second, two, and then to your horror he winks at you.

Your stomach sinks. No. No, no. No. He's just winking at you because he caught you looking over at them, right? Jedi can't. Jedi can't read minds, right? Surely not. The younger Jedi raises an eyebrow at you, the edge of his lip curving into what can only be called a smirk, and you really. Just need the ground to open up and swallow you whole right here. Maker. You're going to have to work with Obi-Wan for the next couple of days--how the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eyes, now, knowing that he's heard you this entire time?

Breakfast passes both entirely too quickly and not near quickly enough, and before you know it, both Jedi are getting to their feet. You curse quietly under your breath and stand yourself, disposing of your tray before you manage to make yourself walk back over to join them. You still have a job to do, regardless of whether or not you want to dig yourself a nice deep hole to die in right now. You do your best to force a smile once you reach them, really trying your absolute hardest to pretend that none of...that, had just happened. Like you haven't been caught lusting over Obi-Wan fucking Kenobi by the man himself.

Skywalker is the first to speak, that Maker-forsaken grin still plastered firmly in place on his face when he does. "Hello,"

You think he's having entirely too much fucking fun with this, frankly.

Obi-Wan seems to agree with you, if the look he gives his companion then is anything to go by. You swallow, doing your best to reign in your composure as you raise a hand to wave at him in response before turning back to the man you're supposed to be assisting. "Are you--" you pause, clearing your throat before continuing. "Are you ready to return to your rooms?"

Maker. Maker. Why did you have to say--

"Quite," Obi-Wan answers before you can stutter out an apology, giving Skywalker what can only be described as a warning look before he turns back to follow you. Your gaze stays all but permanently affixed to the floor as you start making your way down the hall, the only thing indicating that he's still beside you the sound of his boots on the tile.

You can feel his eyes on you when you reach his door but you still can't bring yourself to meet them, clearing your throat awkwardly and folding your hands behind your back in a bid to stop yourself from picking at your thumbnail from the nervous energy that's suddenly coursing through your body. "I. I hope you have a pleasant rest of your day," you manage to stutter out, taking your leave before he can say anything to stop you.

You end up having a couple of hours to yourself to stew in the privacy of your own room before anyone comes for you.

You groan quietly when you hear the knock at your door but haul yourself to your feet and make your way over anyway, pushing your hair out of your face. You frown minutely when you find one of your coworkers standing there. Kaljova--she's assigned to Skywalker, if you recall correctly. She seems vaguely concerned with the state you're in but is kind enough not to comment on it, giving you a polite smile instead. "Master Kenobi has asked for you," Kaljova tells you, and has the grace to pretend to not notice the way your face falls with it.

"Do you know what he needs?" you ask her, blessedly managing to keep your voice even. You reach down to grab your cloak from the table by your door and tie it around your shoulders without waiting for her to actually answer, stepping out into the hallway and letting your door close behind you.

She shakes her head, shrugging a little bit. "Master Skywalker didn't say, I'm sorry."

You shake your head, sighing softly but giving her a small, reassuring smile. "It's okay. Thank you for letting me know."

She returns your smile and nods once before she turns around and leaves you to your own devices again. You groan quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose as you work up the nerve to actually make your way to the visiting diplomat wing where you know he's waiting for you. It takes you a couple of minutes but you do manage to make your feet move eventually and they carry you there far faster than you'd have liked them to.

You swallow harshly and close your eyes for a second before reaching up to knock on his door, bracing yourself. Maker, he probably wants to talk about it, clear the air or whatever, and you are just...absolutely not even a little bit equipped to deal with that right now, frankly. You're able to school your features as the door slides open but just barely, and you stop breathing altogether when you look up and meet those pretty blue eyes.

And he seems...surprised to see you.

That kriffing--

"You...didn't send for me, did you?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head, looking more confused if possible, and you just sigh quietly, giving him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I think there was a...miscommunication." And I'm going to kill your fucking padawan. "I'll just--I'll just go." You raise a hand in a very awkward not-wave and turn on your heel to go, but then.

The Jedi gently grabs you by the elbow, and everything stops for a moment.

Goddammit.

"Wait," Obi-Wan says, softly--like he's trying not to spook you. You take a deep, stuttering breath, and sigh it out, relaxing where you stand as you give up on getting out of this. "I believe...it would be a good idea, if we talked."

Yeah, that's. That's pretty much what you figured, unfortunately.

"I'm very sorry, if I made you uncomfortable, I...I didn't know you could--" Didn't know you could hear me.

"I know," he tells you, just as gently as before, and you reluctantly turn just enough to be able to face him. His eyes are soft when they regard you, and you find your breathing evening out despite yourself--wondering idly how much of it is actively his doing. "Just...come inside. Please."

You can't find it in yourself to deny him so you nod, letting him lead you into the room and trying to pretend that you can't feel your heart stop when the door slides shut behind you. Obi-Wan seems to notice you not knowing what to do with yourself because he gestures to one of the chairs in the sitting area, sitting down in the one opposite it once you're settled. It's quiet for a moment as both of you seem to search for the right words.

"I would like to begin by apologizing for Anakin," he says finally, and you snort as the words register. He gives you a wry smile in return, and continues. "He means well, but he can be...thoughtless, in his humor, at times. Particularly when it is at my expense."

"He sounds like he must have been a joy to train."

That earns you an almost startled sounding laugh out of the Jedi, which manages to get a real smile out of you. "I fear he may have also misled you, to an extent." He tells you, not quite meeting your eyes now as he scratches at his beard. You give him a questioning look and he sighs softly, leaning back in his chair. "We...can hear thoughts, but only if we go looking and it is considered very inappropriate to do so without reason."

You feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, then, and you tilt your head at him. "But you…?"

Obi-Wan winces, and nods. "You may have...projected, this morning, inadvertently. It was...rather loud, and my guards were not as firmly in place as they probably should have been."

Oh. So you'd shouted it at him, then. Great. "Oh."

"I had...gotten a sense of the direction of your thoughts, before that, but you were acting very professionally so thought it best to pay it no mind."

That's...very kind of him, actually, to have simply ignored it even though it must have made him uncomfortable, especially when he so easily could have just told you to knock it off or requested a different attache. You clear your throat, finding yourself picking at your thumbnail again. "I appreciate that."

"You needn't be embarrassed, you know." the Jedi murmurs softly, and you look up to meet his gaze despite yourself. He smiles at you a little bit, then, and it brings something very warm into those blue eyes of his that almost makes you just a little lightheaded. "These things happen. You're only human, you can't be expected to have complete control of your thoughts all the time."

"You do," you point out, just because you feel the need to. "Jedi do. So I'm told."

"We spend our whole lives learning to try." he amends, and there's something so human in the way that he grins that suddenly, all you want to do is lean over and kiss him. "It is a constant exercise, not a skill that can be mastered."

"Still. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable this week."

"Uncomfortable might not be the right word for it, speaking truthfully," Obi-Wan admits, so quietly that you're almost not even sure he's really said it at all. And--Maker, is he implying what it sounds like he's implying? You know your eyes must be just about bugging out of your head with the shock but he mercifully either doesn't notice or pretends not to, scratching at his beard again as he seems to consider his next words, and you...really need him to stop doing that. It's becoming hard enough to maintain your focus as it is. "There were times where I was perhaps...tempted."

You stare at him, blankly, blinking slowly as the words process. Tempted tempted tempted-- "I thought Jedi couldn't…"

Obi-Wan clears his throat, and suddenly he's the one looking unsettled. "Technically, the Code prohibits intimacy, attachment. It...says nothing about the act itself."

Oh. Oh.

You're still staring at him, just completely dumbstruck, so the Jedi seems to decide to take it upon himself to continue talking and fill the space. "For most of us it ends with the same result, functionally, but. Technically."

Maker, get it together. You feel like you're on a several second delay, having great difficulty processing this new information, let alone giving him the verbal response to it that he's clearly waiting for, now. "Have you--"

"Almost. Once. When I was a padawan myself. My master and I were stationed on Mandalore at the time, assigned to protect the Duchess."

You're grinning, now, you can feel it tugging at the edges of your mouth. Maker, you suddenly need to know this story like you need to breathe. "What happened?"

Stars, you swear you can see the tips of his ears turn red. "Qui-Gon caught us. It has...certainly dissuaded me from making any attempts since."

You laugh. You can't help it. Suddenly you're laughing so hard it nearly hurts, grasping your middle with one hand while wiping tears from your eyes with the other. You would feel worse about it if Obi-Wan didn't look so amused himself. "Oh, you poor thing." you snort before your brain can catch up with your mouth, and you feel your own face heat when you realize the implication of what you've just said to him. Way to go, Ace.

Except...he's still grinning at you, amusement dancing in those blue eyes, and all the air seems to rush out of the room when they lock on your own. Kriff. "Are you suggesting that I'm missing out, then?"

He's teasing you, the bastard, and all of sudden it makes you feel bold. You lean forward in your chair, then, resting your elbows on your knees as you encroach on his space and pull your lower lip between your teeth.. "I'm not suggesting anything, Master Kenobi," you all but purr at him, "but should you be interested in finding out for yourself…"

The offer hangs in the air between you, then, like a lit fuse while you just stare at each other, both waiting to see if the other will make the next move.

"And what might this...demonstration...entail?"

"Nothing you aren't completely on board with," you tell him immediately, because if this happens--Maker, if--it is absolutely imperative to you that he enjoys himself just as much as you do. Which...gives you an idea, actually. "I make sure my partners have a good time. Haven't done my job if they don't."

Fuck, the Jedi's eyes are blown. His pupils have nearly overtaken those pretty blue irises and it makes your breath catch with how much you want to ruin him. You can feel the tension rising in the room between you, feeding on and feeding into your arousal in a vicious cycle. He swallows, and you watch his Adam's apple bob with it and narrowly resist the urge to bite him. "Oh?"

Kriff, you need to leave before you fuck him right here and ruin your plans. You give him a small, soft smile and stand, padding over to him. His eyes track each movement, his head tilting back to gaze up at you when you come to stand between his knees, and you can see how ragged his breathing's gone at the sudden proximity. You reach out and let your palm wrap around the line of his jaw, your fingernails scratching lightly through the coarse hairs of his beard, and the Jedi's eyes fall closed before you even lean in. He gasps when your mouth brushes against his own, the faintest whisper of a kiss, and your smile widens. "I think, that you deserve to be seduced properly, Obi-Wan," you breathe. "I'm not going to fuck you, Baby, not just yet. When you really want it--then I'll give it to you."

It takes several seconds before he's able to get words out again, and when he does you can barely hear what he's saying from the rasp in them. "I think, my lady," he pants, "that you are being exceedingly cruel."

You chuckle softly, letting your thumb brush across his lower lip before you straighten up and take a step back, ignoring the almost whine that escapes his throat when you do. "Perhaps."

For the rest of the evening, you act as normal--as if none of the events of the day had taken place. You meet with Obi-Wan and escort him to the dining hall for dinner as usual and go your separate ways once your trays are piled high. You do your best to resist the urge to glare daggers at the other Jedi, particularly when he grins and waves at you, but you are able to content yourself with the sharp look Obi-Wan gives him for it as he sits down. Dinner is uneventful despite Skywalker's best efforts, and passes quickly. You give Obi-Wan this time to...come down, essentially, to gather his wits back about him before you really set your plans into motion in the morning. You had left the Jedi absolutely wrecked this afternoon, and not only do you think it would be just a little unfair to begin your seduction in such a state, you're a little concerned that you might actually kill him if you overwhelm him so much all at once. So, you give him time to breathe.

Or at least, that is your intent.

The sudden drop almost seems to have the opposite effect. Obi-Wan's composure is, outwardly, as impeccable as always. No-one but you and Skywalker--you're sure--would be able to tell that anything's up. The only reason you do is because you still can't take your eyes off him so you notice the way his haven't left you, either. And, Maker, the way he looks at you. You almost want to give in, drag him back to his rooms now, but. You meant it earlier, when you said you thought he deserved better than that. The concept of virginity as a special thing is not one you've ever particularly put much stock in, yourself, but you know that this is, will be, a big deal for him whether he's willing to admit it or not. You want to give him at least this much. He might not be allowed true intimacy or emotional attachment, but that doesn't mean the sex has to be careless. You meant it, when you told him that you take care of your partners.

The next day, you start slow. Obi-Wan is actually fairly busy with the diplomatic mission he'd been sent here on in the first place, which makes that relatively simple. The only time you really get with him that morning is when you're escorting him to and from meetings, so you spend that time finding excuses to touch him. Subtle things, like adjusting already-straight the collar of his robes.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan,"

The Jedi steps out into the hall with you and lets the door close behind him, returning your greeting with an easy grin that makes your heart skip a beat. "Good morning. Where are we off too?"

"You have a meeting with the Chancellor, first. It'll be long and likely boring assuming Skywalker behaves himself, but productive." You give him a soft smile, stepping forward and looking up at him from under your lashes. He watches you intently, almost seeming to stop breathing for a second when you reach up and adjust the tan collar of his robes, your fingertips brushing lightly against the skin of his throat when you do. You let the moment linger a second longer than it needs to before you step back to a respectful distance and nod down the hallway. "Shall we?"

Brushing his hair out of his face when it's fallen into his eyes.

Obi-Wan looks about as tired as you expect him to when he comes out of his meeting a couple of hours later but he has a small smile for you when he sees you waiting for him in the hallway anyway. Skywalker follows him through the door seconds later but barely pays either of you any mind, grumbling something about breakfast as he follows Kaljova down the hall. The two of you stand there for another moment, glancing at each other and chuckling at the younger Jedi's irritation, and you notice idly that some of his blond hair's managed to fall out of place. You reach up to brush it back out of his eyes and bite your lip when they zero in on your own, and you find yourself leaning in further before you can stop yourself only for you to jump apart when the door slides open again. The Chancellor gives you both a polite nod as he takes his leave, completely unaware of what he'd interrupted, and you have to shake your head to clear it once he's out of sight. You can still feel the Jedi's eyes on you when you turn to make your way to the dining hall.

It continues this way, more or less, until lunch, when you decide to kick it up a notch going into the afternoon. You remember what he told you about being able to pick up on your feelings, at least in a general sense, whether he went looking for them or not so you decide to lean into that and let your mind run wild with the things you want to do to him. You're careful not to project any particulars at him this time but you can tell that he definitely takes notice when you start letting your thoughts wander.

You're still sitting in the dining hall at your separate tables, and you smirk lightly when his eyes snap up, watching them narrow when he realizes what you're doing. You maintain that eye contact shamelessly, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you try to imagine what's waiting for you underneath those robes. Skywalker's glancing back and forth between you and grinning but Obi-Wan ignores him completely, raising an eyebrow in your direction that you merely shrug at. You see him shift slightly in his seat after a little while of this and decide to lay off a bit--for now, at least.

Obi-Wan has to consult with the Jedi Council after lunch so you decide to have some mercy on him immediately leading up to that and take a break from your little game. You're sure he's still aware of the arousal boiling low in your belly while you walk him back to his rooms after lunch but you're not actively focusing on it now, letting yourself relax and the Jedi by extension.

It's during dinner that evening that you really kick it into high gear.

You're not even fully sure this is going to work, since you've only ever done it once and by accident, but watching Obi-Wan converse with Skywalker at their table, you know you want to try. So you focus your attention on the Jedi, and hone in on the thought of what you think it might be like to kiss him until you see him stiffen and you know he's got it. You keep going, feeding him different images that only grow more explicit as you grow bolder. Sucking and biting bruises into the skin of his throat and chest while you grind down against his cock. Looking right into his pretty blue eyes while you stroke that cock, watching him come apart when you finally take it into your mouth like you've wanted to do practically since you laid eyes on him. Riding him, burying your hands in his hair and swallowing his moans while you bounce in his lap.

Obi-Wan grits his teeth across the dining hall, gripping the edge of the table he's sitting at tightly and pointedly not looking at you while he tries to regain control of his breathing. Skywalker is staring at you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed in total shock, and you only smirk back at him in response as you let the projection drop. You didn't necessarily want the other Jedi to see those things, truthfully, but you don't know how to control the projection well enough to block him out and he's been enough of a dick about the whole thing this week that you really don't feel all that badly about the fact that he looks like he kind of wants to bleach his brain, now.

You simply go back to your meal once you've dropped the projection, though you can't help the small grin that stays plastered on your face. The next few minutes pass that way, but then.

But then.

Well, projection goes both ways.

It feels sort of like a tickle, at first, at the edge of your mind--easily ignored. Then it turns into a gentle prodding, and when you look up to confirm your suspicions, his blue eyes are locked firmly on yours and it takes your breath away. He's...being remarkably gentle with you, knowing that no-one's ever been in your head before like this, waiting for you to relax and let him in in a complete roll reversal that shocks you. You barely manage to contain the gasp when you do, because he's suddenly pushing images back at you. Obi-Wan thinks back to how your fingers had felt in his hair this morning, and then reimagines that feeling with you in his lap, tangled in his hair while you kiss him. Then, fuck. With his head between your thighs. He stops and focuses in on this one, imagining as many details as he can manage as he pushes it to you. Your hands pulling on the blond strands while his grip your thighs, holding you open as his tongue laves through the folds of your cunt.

The moment feels like a tipping point, and both of you know exactly what is going to happen once this meal is over.

You're so pent up and aroused when it's finally time to leave that you're lightheaded with it but somehow you manage to get to your feet anyway, and thankfully you don't end up having to deal with Skywalker at all because Obi-Wan is out of his seat first this time and meets you halfway. There's something in the air between you, something tense and charged, and you know you need to get him back to his rooms now. He seems to be on the same page because he wastes no time in following you out of the dining hall, and his strides are longer enough than usual that you actually struggle just a little bit to keep up.

And there's something so…juvenile about this, rushing off and sneaking around, but it's...fun. You feel almost like a teenager again, truthfully, so eager to get him alone somewhere private so you can get your hands on him that you're all but running down the hallway to get there.

You're on the Jedi the moment the door closes behind you but he's right there with you, pulling you in for a kiss that's all enthusiasm and little finesse but heats your blood anyway. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you tug him closer and he moans with it, his own hands finding your face and framing it gently. You run the tip of your tongue along his lower lip and press forward when his mouth opens into it on a gasp, licking into his mouth until he has to pull away to breathe.

Maker, he already looks a mess; beautifully flushed with his hair all askew and his pupils blown wide. It makes you want to do, just, unspeakable things, but you know you still have to take your time and ease him into it or this will all be over too fast and you can't have that.

"Go...go sit on the bed," you murmur, putting a hand on his chest as you step back and take a second to try and get your wits back about you. "Take your boots off. And your cloak."

And, Kriff, he does it immediately, nodding at you with that just fucking wrecked look in his eyes before he turns to do exactly what you told him, laying his cloak over the back of one of the chairs and padding over to the bed where he sits on the edge before leaning over to take his boots off. You watch him the whole time, almost high on the heady feeling that comes with this hyper-competent Jedi Master doing whatever you tell him to.

You take your time in joining him, partially to tease and partially just because you need those extra few moments. His eyes track every movement as you remove your own cloak, laying it next to his as you toe your shoes off, and you give him a small smile as you make your way over to the bed. Obi-Wan's breath hitches when you climb up onto it and seems to stop altogether when you carefully settle yourself on his lap, his hands fisting at his sides until you reach down to take them gently and guide them to your waist. "You can touch me," you purr, running your nose along the line of his jaw and grinning to yourself when his grip suddenly tightens with it. "It's encouraged, in fact."

He snorts quietly, so breathily that you almost miss it, and starts rubbing circles into your sides with his thumbs. "Noted," he rasps, and you grin wider before you press a kiss just under his jaw. The Jedi shivers with it and the reaction emboldens you so you continue downward, pressing kisses along his skin until you reach the collar of his robe and then you're working at the belt of his robes, eager to get at more of his skin. Obi-Wan seems to still have enough presence of mind to help you, shrugging out of the first two layers once you're able to get them open and discarding them to the side carelessly. You reluctantly have to pull back so you can yank his undershirt over his head but then his whole torso is exposed for your viewing pleasure, so you decide you're alright with the short interruption.

"See something you like?" Obi-Wan quips breathlessly after a few seconds of you shamelessly studying every line and pane of his chest and you only smirk at him an answer, leaning back in his lap to get a better view and darting your tongue out to wet your lower lip.

"What are the odds of anyone seeing you without the robes?"

His eyebrows knit together momentarily like he doesn't know what you're asking, but he seems to put the pieces together when you suddenly duck back down and lick a broad stripe along the line of his collarbone. His hips jerk up with a broken moan before he's able to manage an answer, his head tilting back and further exposing his throat. "Un-unlikely," he gasps out, and you're grinning again as you start pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses lower until you find a spot on his pec that pleases you and you stop and suck. The Jedi gasps raggedly, his fingers digging into your waist as he tries to ground himself, but you don't stop until you know a bruise will bloom there. "Something to remember you by?" he hisses, and you chuckle softly as you trace the round little blemish with the tip of your finger.

"Oh, Baby, I don't think you're going to have any difficulty with that with or without a few little...reminders."

Obi-Wan moans again, low in his throat, when you start pressing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest, gasping out and trembling the first time you let him feel teeth. His hips buck again and then it's your turn to gasp when his cock rubs right up against your cunt--already so, so hard. And, Maker, it is not a small bulge. What's he hiding under all of those neutral fabrics? You leave a meandering line of bites and hickeys all the way down his chest, ignoring the way he whines when you shift back off of his lap so you can continue down to his stomach. He leans back on his palms, then, watching you intently with dark eyes that make your pussy clench between your thighs, and his breath catches in his throat when your hands find the ties of his trousers. "What are you--"

"Told you I wanted to suck your cock," you remind him, biting your lip as you start undoing them--slowly enough to give him ample opportunity to stop you if he wants. "That alright with you?"

The Jedi nods mutely, suddenly seeming at a loss for words, and you smirk as you sit back on your knees and start pulling them down his thighs until he springs free, and--

Kriff--how fucking dare the Order deprive the galaxy of this magnificent cock?

He's not the longest you've ever seen, per se, but he's thick enough that you almost wonder how you're going to take this thing and beautifully flushed, with defined veins that you just know are going to feel incredible inside you. You lean in to lick a stripe right up the underside of it before you can stop yourself and Obi-Wan cries out at the sudden stimulation and shakes, falling backwards onto his back. You moan softly at the response you pull out of him and lean up until you're able to take the head into your mouth, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut and grips the bedspread until his knuckles go white and unravels. "Watch me," you tell him, taking him in your palm and pumping slowly while you wait for him to respond, "Wanna see those pretty blue eyes."

He forces them open just like you told him to, keeping them trained on you as he bites down on his lower lip and takes a shaky breath and you take him into your mouth again, satisfied. He cries out again but a little quieter this time, and you hum around his cock as you start bobbing up and down on it slowly, almost teasingly so, holding his hips down as best you can so you control the pace. You definitely want to feel him come down the back of your throat at some point, but this isn't the time for that. You have every intent of him coming buried deep inside you tonight.

It becomes something of a game, figuring out exactly what he likes. Hollowing your cheeks to make your mouth tighter around him and moaning until he gasps. Teasing the slit at the top with the very tip of your tongue until you swear you hear him curse. And then you take him to the root.

And, Maker, he swears when he bottoms out and it shouldn't be so insanely hot hearing those words come from this ordinarily so well put-together Jedi but it is. You realize how close he's approaching his end so you reluctantly pull off of his cock, then, ignoring the whine that escapes from high in his throat when you do so. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand while you try and catch your breath, which is not made any easier by the way he's looking at you. You know you must look just as wrecked as he does, now, all flushed skin and swollen lips, but if you didn't know better you would genuinely think the man was about to eat you alive. "I think, my lady," he rasps finally, after several seconds of staring at each other, "that you may be slightly overdressed."

Kriff. You glance down at the tunic and trousers that you are, in fact, still wearing, before looking up to meet his eyes again. You maintain that eye contact as you sit back up on your knees, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you slowly start undoing the laces holding the top closed. Obi-Wan watches each movement like it's the most mesmerizing thing he's ever seen, pupils blown so wide they've almost completely obscured the blue. He groans quietly when the tunic slips from your shoulders, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip when your breasts come into full view. "Is that better?"

He shakes his head mutely, swallowing harshly as he seems to try to gather the words. "I want--may I--kriff, lay back. Please." His gaze follows you closely as you slowly lower yourself down onto your elbows, intensely curious what he's about to do. The Jedi takes a deep breath like he's steeling himself and then he's shifting forward until his body stretches over top of yours, kicking his trousers the rest of the way off in the process, and it's your turn to gasp when you feel his lips brush against the underside of your jaw. He's holding himself up enough that you can't necessarily feel him press against you, but Maker, you can certainly feel the heat coming off of him and his warm breath against your throat. "I believe it's my turn," he murmurs by way of explanation, chuckling softly when your next breath comes out ragged.

"You don't--you don't have to do that," you moan, and Stars--you mean it, you do, especially this first time, but you will be just absolutely fucking inconsolable if he changes his mind right now especially after he went and put the fucking image in your head during dinner earlier.

He doesn't grace that with a verbal response but you're hardly complaining because he starts trailing kisses down the side of your neck instead, and Maker he must have been paying attention when you were doing this to him because you swear he's replicating the technique. "Tell me what you want," he murmurs lowly into the skin of your throat before nipping at it experimentally, listening to you gasp as he keeps talking. "Tell me how to please you, Darling."

His fingers find your nipple before you're able to even begin trying to formulate words and you cry out at the sudden stimulation, arching up into it. "F-Fuck, you're doing a pretty kriffing decent job already," you pant and he chuckles again, running his tongue along your collarbone like you'd done to him and moaning when he gets another ragged gasp for it. "Maker. U-Use your m-mouth,"

You think for a second that he's going to make some smartass comment about how he already is, but mercifully Obi-Wan seems to know what you're asking him for and decides to be kind about it. He continues exploring your breasts with his hand while he returns his mouth to your throat, licking and sucking his way down the column of it until he reaches your sternum where he stops to suck a bruise into the skin. He gets you so worked up by the time he reaches your breasts that you almost don't realize how close he's gotten until those blue eyes are flickering up to meet yours and he's taking your nipple into the blazing hot cavern of his mouth. You open your mouth on a wordless shout and start to writhe under him but he's right there, both hands coming down to your hips to hold you in place as he laves his tongue around the stiffening peak. Obi-Wan focuses his attention on your breast until you're whimpering and then switches to the other, moaning around your nipple when your fingers tangle in his hair.

"You like that, don't you?" you purr down at him, watching the Jedi through half-lidded eyes as he moans again in an affirmative. You pull, then, gently--experimentally, seeing if it's something he'll even like, and then he. Fucking bites you. "Fuck, Obi-Wan!"

"About as much as you liked that," the asshole grins at you impishly as he pulls away from your breast, leaning in to kiss you before you can call him on it. His hands find the top of your trousers once you relax into it, and he leans back to look at you as his fingers dip into the waistband. "May I?"

He starts pulling them down as soon as you nod your consent, sitting back and watching as every inch of skin is revealed until he's removed them completely and he tosses them to the side with the rest of your clothes, leaving you totally bare in front of him. Obi-Wan just...sits there for a moment, taking you in, and you let him, relaxing back against the mattress and smiling up at him.

"Beautiful," he breathes finally, returning your smile with a small one of his own before he's shifting down, keeping his eyes on yours as his lips brush against your hip. He reaches forward and runs one finger through the lips of your cunt lightly, almost teasingly, watching you gasp and try to grind down into it. "Would you like it if I tasted you here, Darling?" Obi-Wan hums, continuing to press kisses along your hip and the insides of your thighs while he waits for an answer and, Maker, the coarseness of his beard against the sensitive skin there robs you of all conscious thought. All you're able to manage is a nod because you're so strung out and you need him there right now but that seems to be enough for him because he starts leaning in, one hand on each of your thighs as he licks a broad stripe right through your cunt.

Stars, you can't even form the words right now to talk him through this like he'd asked, but he...doesn't actually really seem to need your help, here. The Jedi focuses in on your clit right away, swirling his tongue around the little bud before he sucks it into the wet heat of his mouth and you nearly sob at how good it feels. "D-Doing so good, Baby," you manage to get out, and the words almost come out as more of a mewl as he hums around your clit, sending jolts right through you.

You whine in protest when his mouth leaves your clit but his thumb replaces it soon after, rubbing slow circles around it like he's trying to drive you insane on purpose. And then, Maker, his tongue dips into your entrance, licking up inside you while all you can do is sob your pleasure into the air. He keeps going this way for several minutes, steadily working you higher and higher with his tongue buried in your cunt and his thumb strumming your clit until your thighs start to tremble and you feel that coil inside you start to wind tighter. Obi-Wan moans between your legs as when he realizes you're approaching your end and steps up his ministrations, his thumb picking up speed until your back arches underneath him. The orgasm burns its way through you, slow but intense, until you're nearly cross-eyed and delirious with it and he keeps working you through it until you're shaking with overstimulation and pushing his head away.

The Jedi goes willingly when you push him back into a seated position once you've managed to regain your bearings, and Maker, he's a sight like this; his hair just hopelessly disheveled from your fingers in it and your slick coating his chin and kiss-swollen lips. You take a moment to just look at him, committing this image to memory for all of those nights after he leaves when you know you'll look back and picture this with your hand between your thighs. His hands find your hips as you crawl into his lap and settle there, squeezing gently and letting out a soft moan when you lean in to kiss him. Obi-Wan is the one that licks into your mouth this time, mimicking the way your tongue had tangled with his at the start of this until you're moaning into it.

He gasps into the kiss when you reach down between you to take his cock in your hand, stroking it slowly while you shift in his lap and Stars, you swear the Jedi underneath you stops breathing entirely when you line him up and the head of his cock presses right up against your entrance. "Maker, please," he begs then on a broken moan, pulling out of the kiss to catch his breath but leaving his forehead pressed up against yours. He opens his eyes to hold your gaze intently as you start to sink down onto him, crying out at the fucking stretch of it. You take your time taking his cock, both for his benefit and your own, and the slow intrusion into your cunt has you shaking before he even bottoms out.

"Fuck, you feel so f-fucking good,"

And it does. You have to take a minute to adjust once you've taken him to the root before you can move, gripping his shoulders tightly in an attempt to ground yourself, and his hands tighten on your hips in response. The Jedi looks like he might implode if you don't move so you take pity on him, sweeping him into another heated kiss as you roll your hips forward and swallowing his ragged gasp that escapes his throat. You keep the pace slow at first, steady, working yourself open and easing him into the motion and the way your pussy feels wrapped around his cock, and you manage to keep that pace for a few minutes until it becomes too much for both of you.

Obi-Wan's hips buck up at the same time your hips rock forward and you choke on a loud cry, throwing your head back when the head of his cock suddenly hits you right in the sweet spot. He seems to realize that you liked it because he does it again and again, his hands suddenly becoming vices around your hips as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep bouncing in his lap as best you can with his hold on you, meeting him thrust for thrust and Maker, nothing you'd imagined has anything on this. You bury your face in the side of his neck in a pitiful attempt to muffle the sounds that are leaving your throat, sucking and biting at the skin you find there and enjoying the moans you get out of him in return.

You suddenly find yourself on your back with the Jedi above you, swallowing down the gasp that tears out of you as he claims your mouth in a searing kiss. Obi-Wan starts thrusting again immediately as he lets instinct take over, leaning forward on his elbow next to your head to give him better leverage. You nibble on his lower lip as you bring your legs up around his waist, gasping into his mouth when he fucking growls at the feel of your teeth and knotting your fingers in the strands of his hair again. His free hand comes up to cup the side of your face, holding you in place while he kisses the breath from your lungs.

You're not going to last much longer, if the way your cunt is already starting to tighten around him is anything to go by. He shifts his hips just slightly, down and to the side, and you almost scream when he manages to find an angle that has the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot straight on at the same time as the warm skin of his torso brushes against your clit on each thrust in. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did he get the hang of this so fast? He's going to kriffing kill you, if he keeps this up. "Stars, Obi," you sob out, "I'm gonna--"

The Jedi presses one last firm kiss to your mouth before he's pulling back to watch you fall apart, his hand leaving your face and moving down your body until he's stroking your aching clit with his thumb again, rubbing it in fast, small circles like he's learned you like it as he continues fucking into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. "Right behind you, Darling," he grits out, his voice coming strained and wrecked and you know he means it. It only takes one, two, three more thrusts before you just fucking shatter, crying out into the air and trembling as the orgasm obliterates you. He follows not half a dozen thrusts later, burying his face in your neck and gasping as he fills you with everything he has, his hips still pumping lazily as he comes down.

Eventually, the Jedi collapses down on the bed next to you, reaching over to brush some of the hair out of your face and giving you a dopey grin that's such a wild juxtaposition from his usual composure and his reputation that it makes you giggle, unable to help yourself. He raises an eyebrow at you playfully but it only makes you laugh harder, shaking your head. "Maker," you breathe, finally, because you can't seem to string together anything else. Obi-Wan chuckles next to you and reaches over to pull you back into his chest, burying his face in your hair while he tries to catch his own breath. "You are...a very quick study. Maker."

You can't see him grin, but you can hear it in his voice when he speaks again. "I'm glad you're pleased," he teases, and you only roll your eyes before letting yourself fully relax against him. Your eyes start to droop but you don't have the energy to fight to keep them open, and you end up falling asleep right there in his arms.

He lets you.

You wake up the next morning almost unbearably warm, and when you go to try and sit up, you find that you can't. You freeze as a half-baked realization suddenly comes over you, hesitantly cracking your eyes open.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Oh, kriff.

You fell asleep here last night. In the Jedi's bed. With the Jedi. He, it turns out, is the reason that you can't move. Obi-Wan's got both arms wrapped tightly around your middle, holding you against his chest with his legs tangled up with yours, and Maker you would never have pegged this man for a cuddler but you couldn't be more wrong, apparently. It does, however, create quite an interesting problem for you.

This is his last morning here before he leaves to return to Coruscant. He and Skywalker are supposed to leave early, before even breakfast. Skywalker will, doubtlessly, be coming around to see what's what's holding his old master up, and soon--and you are still here.

Where you are. Definitely. Not supposed to be.

You don't know how much time you have but you know that it isn't much. You have got to get out of here before Obi-Wan's pain in the ass prior padawan shows up, and the Jedi looks so peaceful like this that you kind of wish you could just let him sleep but you really don't want to just sneak out on him after last night. So you sigh, reaching up to shake his shoulder gently. "Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, we have to get up."

It doesn't take much to wake him, thankfully, and he lets go of you to prop himself up on his elbow as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice still hoarse from sleep as he peers down at you, not quite as surprised to see you there as you'd have maybe expected him to be.

You don't even get a chance to answer him because there's suddenly a knock on the door, and both of your eyes widen at it. Skywalker. "Obi-Wan?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, where the fuck are your clothes? You're out of the bed before Obi-Wan even has a chance to stop you, frantically trying to find your clothes and put them on. You toss his trousers at his chest when you come across them and that seems to be what finally spurs him into motion, standing up so he can get them on as he calls back to the other Jedi. "What is it, Anakin?"

There's a moment of confused silence, then: "Cody's landing the transport now."

Obi-Wan opens his mouth like he's about to tell his old padawan that he'll be out momentarily, but doesn't get a chance to get the actual words out before you both hear the hiss of the door starting to slide open. Thank the Maker, you just manage to get your tunic back on before Skywalker comes into sight, and you do your best to try to look fucking normal as his eyes flicker between you but your heart fucking stops when you glance to the left of you and realize that Obi-Wan still isn't wearing a fucking shirt. His entire chest is exposed, which means that all of the marks you left scattered across it are also exposed. Fuck, fuck, fuck--

"I'll just. I'll just see you on the transport."

Skywalker is gone before either of you can react, the door sliding shut behind him. Your next breath leaves your lungs with enough force that it's almost a wheeze, and you have to bend over and put your hands on your knees for a second while you try to process what the fuck just happened. Obi-Wan blinks next to you, looking directly ahead for a second or two more before he suddenly starts chuckling, and you stare at him incredulously. "I'm sorry," he says finally, "That was just…"

You're laughing too, then, shaking your head as you step back over to him, ducking down to grab his shirt from where you can see it on the floor. You place the fabric in his hands and lean up on your toes to press a light kiss to his cheek, giving him a small smile. "Until next time, Master Kenobi?"

He gives you a small smile in return, and surprises you a little bit when he leans in himself and presses a soft kiss to your lips. "Until next time."

Mercifully, no-one questions him when Obi-Wan finally makes it to the transport. He intentionally doesn't look at Anakin even though he can feel the other man's eyes on him as he finds his seat and sits down, straightening his robes. He finds it difficult to keep the smile completely off his face so he just ducks his head instead in the guise of settling in for the flight and studiously ignores the way Anakin is still staring at him.

"How was your trip, General?" Cody asks, leaning around in the pilot's seat to look back at him once they've left the planet's atmosphere. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to answer but Anakin's there first, suddenly grinning ear-to-ear in a way that makes him distinctly uncomfortable.

"Oh, the General had a wonderful time." the younger man drawls, looking him right in the eyes as he does, and Obi-Wan wonders not for the first time if Qui-Gon died and left Anakin in his care as some inhumane form of punishment. "Made significant strides with relations and learned a lot, I'm sure."

"Oh, well, that's good, Sir." Cody responds, and Obi-Wan really dearly hopes he's as unaware of the insinuation as he sounds. Cody really does not need to know these things. Anakin does not need to know these things. "I'm glad your mission was productive."

Anakin opens his mouth like he's going to say something else but closes it abruptly and grins instead when Obi-Wan glares at him and shakes his head slowly in warning. "Thank you, Cody." Obi-Wan says instead, leaning back in his seat and letting his eyes close as he tries to relax. Maker, he can still feel the effects of the night before, his muscles are more sore than he would have expected and he finds that he's very aware of the bruises you'd left behind and it's...strangely pleasant.

He's not allowed to have emotional attachments, but. He kind of does hope that he'll see you again one day anyway. Until next time, Master Kenobi.

#obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Obi-Wan #reader fic #reader insert #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #star wars prequels #fic #fanfiction #merlyn posts

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cherienymphe · 4 years

Text

The Concubine II (Stucky x Reader)

warnings: Royalty!AU (bring on the misogyny), eventual DUB-CON, eventual NON-CON

PLEASE DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

summary: Where there’s a king, there’s a harem, and you are the king’s favorite concubine. No other man is allowed to touch you. That is, until this monarchy becomes a diarchy and you find yourself at the mercy of two men unwilling to share.

The whispers spread quickly, and soon just about everyone in the palace knew of the news before it was even officially announced. Reactions were mixed, but most of the other concubines thought it exciting. King James was a new face after all, a new man from money to figure out and pick apart. They whispered about what he could be like…both in and outside of court.

“I have only seen him in passing, but Y/N has met him. Didn’t you say he stumbled upon you while you were practicing the other morning?” Amara asked.

All of you were lounging in the harem, basking in the natural lighting coming in through the windows. You had been absentmindedly listening, fingers playing in the water from the fountain that took up the center of the room, but you halted all movement upon hearing your name. You glanced up, eyes traveling over the rest of the women before landing on Amara.

“He did,” you confirmed.

They all perked up, scooting closer, eyes focused entirely on you.

“What’s he like? We’ve seen that he is as tall as our king…” another girl, Eliza, said.

“He is. I’m not really sure what to say of him. We only spoke for a moment…”

It was the truth, but it also wasn’t. While the two of you had indeed only spoken for a moment, there was actually much you could’ve said about him. You could’ve told them how different he seemed from Steve, how much more…reserved he seemed. Perhaps reserved wasn’t the proper word to use. While he did seem that it also seemed less…genuine than that.

You’d met men like him before. He seemed to be hiding his true self, his true thoughts. You had thought about his words often since that day, and they seemed to have had a deeper meaning. However, you had only just met him. While yes, you had been brought up to know the ways of men, certainly it didn’t mean you’d know the ways of every man. Only time would truly tell what King James was like.

“He is handsome though,” Tatia urged. “None of us saw him up close.”

You would be a liar to disagree. His long dark hair was such a contrast from the short fair locks that adorned your king’s head. He also seemed a bit bulkier than Steve, more muscly, and you wondered what he did in his spare time. Again, in contrast, where Steve’s face was bare and smooth, James’ face was decorated with light facial hair. It was tasteful and complimented his features nicely. Almost as nice as the blue eyes that reminded you so much of your king’s. Steve’s always seemed to be full of mischief but looking into James’ eyes brought you no since of clarity. They were clouded and hid his emotions well.

“Yes,” you finally confirmed. “He is handsome.”

“More so than the king?” Anastasia wondered, eyes wide.

Tatia lightly hit her shoulder as the other girls gasped.

“Don’t dare speak such blasphemy!”

“They are both our king now, correct? Hardly blasphemy. Besides, I’m certain Y/N has compared them. So tell us… Who is more beautiful?”

“They are both handsome in different ways,” you honestly answered.

“Spoken like a politician,” Anastasia teased.

You chuckled.

“It is true. I don’t think I would say James is more handsome simply because he is not. It is just a different kind of beauty. It would be like comparing all of us,” you said.

The other girls giggled, and Tatia rolled her eyes.

“How sweet, Y/N, but we all know that I’m the prettiest,” she teased.

Eliza threw a pillow at her face, and the other girls joined in, laughter filling the air. You watched them with a small smile on your face before glancing around at the room you’d spent so much time in over the years. A pang of sadness hit you, and you realized that you missed it. You missed them.

You bit your lip as Steve groaned below you, sinful noises escaping his lips as you worked your fingers into the bare skin of his back. You were straddling his waist as you massaged him, and he hummed lowly as you lowered your hands to the small of his back. You had offered to ease some of his tension, and while that wasn’t uncommon for you, you definitely had ulterior motives this time around. He didn’t think anything of it, and you almost felt guilty.

“My king…”

He hummed in response, a sign that he was listening. You licked your lips, nervousness growing in your stomach.

“Might I…request something of you?”

You felt him tense beneath your fingers, only for a moment, before he maneuvered himself onto his back. You accommodated him, lifting yourself just the slightest to allow him to do so, and he rested his hands on your hips, lowering you back down. There was a slight frown on his face, but it was not an angry one. You could see that he was confused. After all, you had never asked anything of him…ever.

“What would this request be?”

There was skepticism in his voice, perhaps even a little worry, and you swallowed again. You glanced away from him, focusing your gaze on his chest, but he reached up to grip your chin. Your eyes widened a bit when he forced you to look at him, eyes hard and inquiring.

“You of all people know that I don’t have much patience. If you weren’t going to speak perhaps you should have held your tongue,” he said.

“I-.”

“What troubles you?” he demanded.

“I miss the girls,” you confessed.

His confusion visibly grew as he regarded you. A slow smile spread over his lips before letting out a laugh.

“Whatever do you mean? You see the everyday…”

You sighed. You weren’t surprised that he didn’t understand.

“I miss…the harem. I miss constantly being with them and talking with them. They’re like my sisters. I miss falling asleep with them every night and waking up to each other’s faces each morning,” you explained.

His frown deepened, and the hand holding your waist tightened. You winced, but he simply tightened his hold as he sat up.

“Have you grown tired of my gifts then?”

Your eyes widened.

“N-no! No, that isn’t it, at all-.”

“Then what is the problem? Surely you can always visit them.”

“It isn’t the same…”

He scoffed, eyes hard as he looked at you.

“Any of the others would kill to have what you have,” he lowly said.

“I know,” you sighed.

“Do you? Because it doesn’t appear that way to me,” he spat.

“Steve, I’m so thankful for the room and private bath you’ve given me. Truly, it was so thoughtful of you and I do enjoy the privacy, but…”

You trailed off, forcing your face out of his grip as you looked away. You could feel your eyes becoming misty, and you cursed your own body. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of him. He gripped your face with both hands, now, turning you to face him. He studied you, thumb brushing away a stray tear.

“Spit it out.”

“I’m lonely,” you whispered.

You fought to hold his gaze as he blinked.

“I am…so grateful to be in your favor, my king. Truly, it is a blessing, but…it is isolating. I’m sure the other girls don’t notice. I’m sure they appreciate my company whenever I can be around them all the same, but… I notice.”

He brushed his thumbs over your skin, exhaling as he mulled over your words. His eyes were thoughtful.

“Lonely,” he quietly repeated. “I see…”

Your relief was quickly squashed down when he continued.

“I am not enough for you then?”

You fought not to scream in frustration.

“No, that isn’t it, at all. Steve, I just miss my friends…my sisters.”

He ran his eyes over you, a look in his eyes that you could not place. Before you understood what was happening, your world was spinning, and you found yourself pinned on your back. A gasp escaped you as he held your wrists down beside your head, and your eyes widened at the light glare that fell over his features.

“Is that truly all?”

“What else would it be?”

Confusion filled you.

“Perhaps you long for another lover…”

Your confusion grew, and you blinked.

“Another…lover? No. Why would you think that?”

“You met James the other morning. He told me so…,” he started.

“Yes,” you confirmed, still unsure of where he was going with the conversation.

He frowned at you.

“…and you did not think to mention this to me…”

Was Steve angry?

“I…I didn’t think I needed to. He will be ruling alongside you, will he not? He will be my king just as you are. I meet him now, I meet him later. Where does the problem lie?”

He eyed you, a number of emotions crossing his features. The silence was thick with tension, but you didn’t know why, and your confusion only grew when he sat up, pulling you with him. His hands held you to him, and you simply stared at him when he heaved a sigh, jaw ticking.

You reached up, running your fingers over his face, smoothing out the crinkle in between his brows.

“Steve,” you softly said, wondering what he was thinking about.

It was moments like this that made you look past his insatiable appetite. There were times when the two of you were alone and you felt less like his concubine and more like…a friend. You loved the other women dearly and they were indeed like sisters to you, but there would always be a part of you that only Steve knew best. The same could be said for him.

You’d known him for so long and could read him like a book. He was the only lover you’d ever had, and it couldn’t be helped that you two knew each other so well. It was things like that that made you look past his possessive, selfish, and sometimes borderline violent behavior. This is why you were frozen in shock when he said:

“I will allow you to take on another lover.”

Your eyes widened, and had it been any other situation, you are sure you would have laughed at your face. You actually felt yourself break out into a cold sweat, skeptically eyeing him. Tears kissed your eyes, and he reached out to pull you closer when you attempted to scoot away.

“No, no, I mean it, Y/N. Truly,” he softly said, calming you as he pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth.

Steve had always been adamant that you were off limits to anyone else. The one time you’d brought it up, wondering why the other girls were allowed to be with other men while you were not, you had instantly regretted it. You remembered the accusations he’d thrown at you, how angry he’d gotten…

And the way he had held you down as he fucked you.

He had never taken you like that before, and he hadn’t allowed you to leave his bed for days. You had never brought it up again.

“But…you said-.”

“I know what I said. That was years ago, but now you are telling me that you are unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy. That’s not it, at all. I just want to be with my friends more, I don’t need another lover,” you argued.

Had it been any other conversation and you would have entertained the idea. You’d always been curious about other men, but any thoughts that had occurred to you, you quickly squashed down. However, you weren’t trying to convey that you were lonely in that sense. You just wanted to go back to the harem. He shushed you, and you bit your tongue.

“I will…consider your request.”

Your shoulders sagged. You knew what that meant, and Steve hurried to continue.

“I will. I simply like having you in place that is just your own. I like being able to come and see you, just you, when I please,” he said.

Steve liked having access to you without the eyes of others around. He liked keeping you in place where he could have you all to himself, readily available. That is what he meant.

“Don’t you like that too?” he asked, brushing his thumb over your lip.

“I do.”

“We wouldn’t have that if you went back to the harem, now would we? Hmm?”

You shook your head, and he pecked you on the lips.

“I will consider it, but you have all the freedom in the world to visit the others. Especially now that I might not be around as much,” he sighed.

You frowned, eyeing him.

“What do you mean?”

“There are serious matters that need my attention. It is partially why James and I have decided to align. Those matters might pull me away from you, and that is why I brought up the topic of someone else.”

Though it saddened you he might not be around as much, a part of you was also relieved to not have to be constantly subjected to his presence. While he was allowing you to take on another lover, you wouldn’t. The king sometimes felt like three lovers rolled into one, and his desire had taken a toll on you. Even now, you found yourself bogged down with fatigue.

“My aversions to the idea of you with someone else had more to do with other men than yourself. I do not trust anyone else with you.”

He brushed his lips along your cheek.

“I have treated you exceptionally, have I not? I take care of you and provide for you and shower you with more than you can imagine. Do I not?”

“You do.”

“I feared that no other man could treat you as you deserve, as I treat you. While the thought of you sitting in your room alone, waiting patiently for me, does get my blood pumping through my veins, it also tugs at my heart. I do not want you to be lonely, Y/N.”

You waited for him to continue.

“James will take good care of you in my absence. I trust him, and-.”

“James?” you questioned in shock, rearing back. “The king?”

“Yes. Do you think I mean for you to entertain some random man?”

He chuckled, and you blinked.

“I trust James. I’ve known him all my life, and he will treat you well. Almost as well as I…”

You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t exactly refuse to pleasure a king.

“My king, I… I do not know him,” you softly argued.

His hand was tight on your jaw as he gazed into your eyes.

“You will grow to know him just as you will grow to like him. He is a good man, a lot like me in retrospect.”

You were quiet, and his grip tightened.

“I trust you will treat him well? Show him the same affection you do me?”

You swallowed, giving a jerky nod in his tight grip.

“Yes, my king.”

You set the flower down onto the water, pushing it along to join the rest. It was late, much later than the king allowed you to be out, but you needed a moment to yourself. That was one upside to having your own room. It was easy to sneak out and into the town when you knew Steve wasn’t due for a visit. Rare, but you always took advantage.

The market square hardly slept. Even with most of the shopkeepers tucking in for the night, there was still always something going on. During the day, you’d wear a shawl, sometimes lifting it to temporarily cover your face when talking to merchants. You didn’t think you’d be recognized, but you didn’t want to chance it.

During the night, however, you didn’t bother. You felt free to walk around as you pleased without the ever-watchful eye of the king. You had walked through the square for a while, entertaining a fortune teller before buying something to eat. You had eventually found yourself at a fountain behind one of the shops, pushing around the flowers that floated in the water.

You mulled over your last conversation with Steve. You didn’t know how to describe what you felt. On the one hand, you were disappointed that you would not have the reprieve you’d thought you have. You were looking forward to some much-needed time away from hungry lips and searching hands. You had risked the king’s anger by asking to go back to the harem, and not only were you not successful, but you’d walked out of the room with another lover that you did not ask for. Worse yet, another king.

You sighed, glancing up at the stars that decorated the sky. You couldn’t refuse a king, especially not one that was in Steve’s favor. He and James grew up together, much like you and the other concubines, so there was no doubt in your mind that they were like brothers. Besides, James wasn’t just any king. He would be your king now.

While you had often wondered what it would be like to live the life of the other concubines, this was not what you had imagined. Steve had chosen this man for you, not just a king, but a friend. You wondered to yourself if this was a way for him to keep an eye on you while he wasn’t around. You adored the king, but you wouldn’t put it past him. You knew very well how he could be. Then again, maybe you were overthinking it.

You didn’t know James, at all. Perhaps his contrast to Steve wasn’t in appearances only. Maybe he wouldn’t lust for you the way Steve did. Maybe he wouldn’t touch you, at all. You suddenly scoffed, remembering the day you’d met him. No. You knew the ways of men, and while his eyes concealed much, they couldn’t conceal his desire. Still, there was still a chance he was different from Steve. You looked back down into the water and gasped.

You hurried to stand, spinning around as you came face to face with the man who was plaguing your thoughts. A small smirk graced his lips as he took you in. You wrapped the fabric of your robe tighter around you as a slight breeze passed through.

“You’re a long way from the palace…and at such a late hour too.”

You swallowed. There was nothing you could say to defend yourself, and still, he asked anyway.

“Why?”

You decided to be honest with him. After all, this was the man who’d eventually know you in the same manner Steve did.

“I…wanted to walk through town. I enjoy the fresh air and solitude,” you answered him.

He hummed before stepping towards you, gently grabbing your arm as he pulled you along with him. You realized that he was going in the direction of the palace, and your heart stuttered. Almost as if he could hear it, James chuckled.

“I shall not turn you in to Steve,” he said.

You looked at him with wide eyes, lips parting. He was staring ahead, but his smirk grew.

“You’re not?”

“No. I know Steve well, and if the rumors I heard about his behavior towards you are true, it would be safe to say he’d never let you out of his sight again if I turned you in. Am I wrong in that assumption?”

You frowned.

“Are you trying to get me to speak ill of the king?”

“There are no tricks up my sleeve, Y/N. It was a simple question,” he replied with a chuckle.

You mulled over his words, eyeing him skeptically before releasing a breath.

“Thank you.”

He suddenly stopped, and you almost tripped over your own feet. You stared at him as he turned to face you, so close you swore you could feel his heartbeat. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and you started to take a step back when he stopped you, pulling you closer.

“Thank you…what?”

You blinked, swallowing before understanding dawned on you.

“Thank you, my king.”

He smiled, reaching up with his other hand to brush a finger along your cheek.

“Maybe one day we’ll be as comfortable with each other as you are with Steve, but until then, you will address me properly. Is that understood?”

“Yes, my king.”

He stepped away from you and began to lead you once again towards the palace. The whole ordeal only lasted a minute at the most, and you wondered if you had imagined it. The rest of the walk was quiet. The palace wasn’t far from town, after all. Still, the silence unnerved you as much as the feel of James’ hand on your arm.

He slowed to a stop when you came up on the bag end of the palace, near the gardens and ponds. He looked up, eyeing the back of the grand structure.

“That is your room over there?”

He gestured around the corner, and you nodded. He walked you to your window, still cracked from where you’d left it so you could sneak back in. His other hand came up to rest on your arm, and he gently massaged your skin through the fabric. He gazed at you with an unreadable expression, and you waited for him to speak.

“I did not lie when I said I would not tell Steve. This will be our little secret,” he said with a soft smile.

You hesitantly returned it, but it fell when he leaned in.

His lips were soft and sweet, like he’d been eating berries and drinking wine all day. The kiss was gentle, a far contrast from Steve’s hungry kisses. He trailed his hands down your arms before sliding them over your waist. They stopped at the small of your back, and he pulled you closer. You hesitantly returned the kiss, and he moaned lowly against your lips. How simple it was, but you were still breathless when he pulled away.

“I won’t tell Steve, but if I catch you sneaking out again, I may take the liberty of chaining you to your bed myself,” he softly said.

Your eyes widened, and you jerked away from him, but he held you close.

“Is that understood?”

“Y-yes, my king,” you whispered.

He reached up to brush his thumb over your lip in the same way Steve did earlier. His blue eyes were serious as he regarded you.

“Do as I say, and you’ll never have any trouble from me. I will keep as many secrets as you want as long as you obey me.”

You nodded, and he helped you through your window. You turned to him as soon as you were inside of your room, and he took your hand in his. A breeze ruffled his dark hair as he looked up at you.

“Steve talked with you?”

You nodded.

“Good. You are mine, now as much as you are his, and I don’t know about that punk, but I look after what is mine. I won’t have you running off to do God knows what only to end up hurt…or worse. The next time you want to go for a stroll in the dark, you come and find me,” he ordered.

“Yes, my king.”

He smirked at you one last time before disappearing from your sight. You closed your window with shaky hands, realizing that you may have been right all along. It seemed that they were two sides of the same coin, after all. What did that mean for you?

The pounding of your feet on the floor coincided with the synchronized claps that filled the room. Your hips matched the beat of the drum. The gold belt around your waist tapped against your skin as you spun, arms outstretched and skirt flying around you.

The two kingdoms had merged, the two kings aligning for reasons that was still unknown to you. It was officially announced an hour ago, and everyone had cheered and fellowshipped while you simply wondered of the reasoning for all of this. When Steve requested a performance from you, you had wanted to refuse, no matter how sweetly coated his words were. However, when James…your king, had joined in on the request, you felt that your hands were tied.

Not wanting to disappoint either of them, you had obliged. A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you felt your body becoming weary. Luckily for you, the final beat sounded, and your foot slammed to the ground. The praises that filled the air faded to the background as you curtsied before the kings, looking up at them both from beneath your lashes.

As predictable as ever, Steve merely smiled at you, but the desire that swirled in his eyes told you all you needed to know. James, on the other hand, had stood along with everyone else, joining in as he clapped. The corner of his pink lips were pulled into a smirk as he gazed at you. You slowly straightened, smiling at them both. Steve nodded, and with that approval, you turned to make your way back to the others. A shiver traveled down your spine at the feel of two pairs of eyes boring into you. Both blue, yet different, but harboring a voracious hunger all the same.

tags: @sherrybaby14 @xoxabs88xox @darkficreposter @mcudarklibrary @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @kellyn1604 @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @readermia @jtargaryen18 @notyourtypicalrose @nickyl316h @opheliadawnwalker3 @arseofrivia @ariesmadness97 @kaithezaftig @fafulous @tessa-bl @alexakeyloveloki @simoriah346 @mrsdeanwinchester19 @readermia

#Dark Fic #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #king!steve x reader #king!steve #king!bucky #king!bucky x reader #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #marvel fanfiction

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itsallabigmess · 4 years

Text

Crescente | Part Six

A/N: This was going to be the last part but GUESS WHAT?!

Yes, I was rewriting this part, and I got to the 2.5K words mark and realized the real end was still a bit far away. Since I have been keeping my chapters not too long, I didn’t want the end to be this endless, tiring chapter.

So yeah, I split it and decided to add an extra part.

Sorry, I guess??? (but really not sorry. Also, for those wanting Jinyoung to make a move... oh boy, this part is for you)

Please leave your reactions, even if just in tags! I really appreciate them.

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

The storm still falls hard over the resort. Sitting by the back door, holding your legs, you watch as lightning clears the sky momentarily. In the darkness, the ocean sounds as agitated as your heart feels.

“Y/N, is everything okay?

You look over your shoulder at Jinyoung, standing in the middle of the stairs. It’s late at night, and you should be lost in deep sleep, just like he was a minute ago. But you could not stop thinking about the few moments when Jinyoung had you in his arms. Not even while dreaming you seemed capable to not wish for more of him.

“Yes,” you lied, smiling weakly. “Just couldn’t go back to sleep.”

Jinyoung stares at you for a moment, frowning, before you tell him to go back to bed. Somehow, you are not surprised when you feel disappointed once he turns around and climbs the stairs up. Just another strange sentiment on your list that would be better to leave unspoken.

This trip was making things to your emotions. Maybe you wouldn’t feel the same once you were back to your normal routine.

But then you hear steps, and coming down the stairs, you see Jinyoung carrying pillows and blankets.

He offers you a hand and helps you get up, and you watch as he spreads one of the blankets on the floor. He sits and places the pillows in between his back and the door, and pull you to sit in between his legs. Another blanket is laid over your stretched legs and Jinyoung’s arms envelop your middle, pulling you closer.

Inside, your heart starts to get unquiet.

“Lean back,” he says, and you let yourself fall slowly in his embrace, enjoying the warmth the perfect cradle of his arms provided. “Are you comfortable?” he asks silently.

You answer with a hum, letting your head fall back into the crook of his neck. You can’t understand what’s going on inside your head and heart. But for the night you decide to bury all the confusion deep down and enjoy whatever was happening between you and Jinyoung.

---

You shift in place, starting to wake after Jinyoung calls your name a second time. His arms tighten around your waist as you take a deep breath, and a kiss is laid on your temple. Slowly, you open your eyes and become aware of the half grey, half orange sky, the colors becoming brighter every time you blink.

“You said you wanted to watch the sunrise,” Jinyoung speaks just below your earlobe, his nose brushing against your neck.

It’s silent while you watch the sky goes through different shades of orange and yellow. Jinyoung's chest rise and fall against your back. You blame your drowsiness for not freaking out for having slept in his embrace. “I can’t believe we spent the night here,” you yawn, arching your back.

“You fell asleep so quickly…” he says with amusement, lowering his head. You feel his lips pressing against your shoulder, and before you can think of saying anything, he does it again, slowly kissing the way to your neck.

His hand spreads and curls again around your waist. The repeated movement makes your pajama blouse slide to the side, and you let out a muffled moan when his lips gently fall over your bare skin. You lean your neck and Jinyoung takes the silent invitation. He kisses your neck, sucking on the skin, tasting you.

It’s just been a minute, but your entire body has lightened up. You never found so hard to put words together, and right now you don’t think you can say anything to make him stop. Especially because you don’t want him too. When you finally speak, you sound breathless. “If you are gonna keep doing that, you need to shave.”

“So you don’t like it?” he teases, brushing his chin up and down your neck, the stubbles raising goosebumps on your skin that Jinyoung makes sure to lick off. You love it. And that’s the problem.

Your hand goes up, to the back of his hair, scraping his scalp, silently telling him ‘please, don’t stop’. His hand moves up your ribs, and you think how easy would it be for Jinyoung to unbutton your blouse and cup your breast.

But then you moan a bit too loud when he bares his teeth on your neck again, and Jinyoung slows down. He pulls your hand gently from his hair and places it over your stomach, lacing your fingers. A final tender kiss in dropped on your shoulder. Jinyoung rests his head against yours and, against your back, you can fell how radically his heart is beating.

Feeling your heat fade away, you turn your attention to the rising sun. The painted sky is free of clouds and the air feels hot, making it hard to believe a storm had taken place the night before.

“Do you want to go to bed? Sleep a bit more?” Jinyoung whispers.

You turn your head and time seems to stop. There you are again, just a breath away from a kiss. You stare at Jinyoung’s lips and he does the same, brushing his nose against yours. Now, he is the one asking you silently ‘May I? Do you want to?’

Every inch of your body screams yes. But the idea of wanting Jinyoung terrifies you. Even if he wants you back.

Cowardly, your turn your face away. Your eyes go back to the horizon, kicking away the blanket that somehow still covers your lower halves. You feel Jinyoung’s arms loosen around you and you hold him in place. “I need five more minutes.”

---

When you wake up again later in the morning, you find Jinyoung by the pool, a cup of coffee on his hand as he stares down at his iPad. His lips curl up when he notices you. “I thought it might take longer but I’m quite proud of you.”

“What?” you frown, yawning.

“You finally overslept. I mean, it’s only eleven but I guess that’s pretty late for your standards.”

You smile and stretch your arms over your head, whimpering a little when you hear your shoulder bones crackle.

“So, the sun is out, and once again is annoyingly hot,” Jinyoung snorts, getting up from his chair. “I guess a day by the sea in on the plans for today.”

“That is absolutely correct,” you nod emphatically. “I still want to paddleboard.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, at least not here.”

“Why not?”

“Ocean is still too agitated from the storm,” he says and you scowl at him, stealing the coffee cup from his hand and drinks what’s left. “But there’s a beach on the other side of the shore, it looks almost like a lake. No waves at all. We could rent a car and head there after eating something.”

“Can’t we eat on the way there?”

Jinyoung grins, placing a hand on your waist. You feel your entire body tense. “I’ll get ourselves a car. You go get ready.”

---

As expected, Jinyoung stayed under the rented sunshade while you took a quick lesson on how to paddleboard and then adventured yourself in the clear waters of the newfound beach. Jinyoung was right. It does look like a lake, waves so calm you can barely feel them.

Standing over the board you paddle for a few minutes, amazed by how you can see the bottom sand with so clarity. It was a nice contrast from the storm that still clouded your head.

It was nice that Jinyoung decided to stay on the sand. You needed some time alone to think. Even if that was exactly what you didn’t want to do. Jinyoung was acting as if nothing out of normal had happened. As if making out with his girl friend’s necks was something he was used to. You imagine him doing so with another woman and feel a pinch on jealousy.

Doing your best to not lose balance, you kneel first, then sit. You put the paddle to the side and let your upper body fall over the board, legs going inside the water. You close your eyes, sun shining brightly over you. That’s all you wanted for this trip. This moment right here. Minus the falling in love with your best friend.

Is that what is happening? Are you falling for him? You certainly feel something different. You don’t remember feeling your chest so heavy around him before. Around anyone. Just the thought of your early morning enough to drive you into self-combustion.

You spend almost an entire hour telling yourself you should not be nurturing any kind of romantic sentiment towards Jinyoung. And then you think about all the ways he has been managing to touch you. You remember his lips pressing against your skin. You feel the need to have a taste of him. And then you are gone.

Instead of Jinyoung, you find his book spread on the beach lounger. He appears a minute later, with colorful refreshments in his hands. You reach for the yellow cup. Passion fruit juice. Not a single drop of alcohol in it. You could use some alcohol now.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, why?”

Jinyoung shrugs, nodding towards the ocean. “You seemed a bit off out there.”

So he was watching you from the distance. You empty half of the cup in one sip. “Just too much sun in my head.”

Jinyoung goes quiet on your side and you don’t look at him to see if he believes you or not. You finish your drink and lay on the lounger, closing your eyes and trying to silence your mind. You were always so good at talking to each other about anything. Why is it so hard to confront this unsaid thing that is going on between you two?

Maybe you should just stay playing dumb. And keep busy. Occupy your mind and tire your body as much as you can so you can’t think about anything else. Or feel.

“I want to go out tonight,” you say, opening your eyes, staring up to the inside of the sunshade. “We have only been doing morning things, we should be doing nightly things too.”

“And do what, go to a party?”

You turn your face to the side and see Jinyoung getting up and taking off his shirt. Whatever you were about to say get lost halfway between your brain and your mouth. You stare at his bare torso, all the muscles he has been hiding exposed, and only an arm's length of distance. Thank God your brain has become pure goo, preventing you to go all handsy over him.

Although considering what happened in the morning, maybe you should. Just to be a little even.

“Eyes up here,” Jinyoug scoffs but when you finally look up, you notice he’s fighting a smile. When you bite your own lower lip, he shakes his head and looks away. “So, tonight. What do you want to do?”

You immediately shut down the obscene imagery that pops up in your mind. “I don’t know. But something that does not consist of only grabbing dinner or staying at the villa.”

Jinyoung shoulders go up and down and you follow the movement with your eyes, gazing once again at the muscles on his chest.

“Y/N, you are staring.”

“Only because your breast is bigger than mine.”

You look down at yourself, more to distract yourself from the perfect lines of his body and when you look up again, Jinyoung is staring directly at your breasts.

“Definitely not,” he says and you feel a wave of heat burning on your lower half. “I’m going for a swim. Wanna join me?”

You shake your head and forget to justify with words. The sigh Jinyoung lets out sounds like frustration but you only notice that when he’s already about to dive in. And after debating if you should go to him or stay put, you decide to just appreciate the view from afar, like the big scaredy-cat that you are.

#jinyoung #park jinyoung #got7 #jinyoung fluff #got7 jinyoung #friends to lovers au #kpop scenarios #got7 scenarios

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bforbbgirl · 4 years

Text

Traqué

Summary - a young woman’s life is thrown into chaos when someone from her past comes back, showing that he will stop at nothing to fulfill his darkest desires.

Warning - slow burn, language, mention of drug use, death, violence, smut, themes of stalking, and other tw things.

1|chapter two

You haven’t left your apartment since Friday evening.

After your call with your sister and the endless voicemails you’ve left your therapist, you shut all your curtains and checked the locks on your door almost every hour on the hour. You barely slept a wink of sleep, you could barely hold any food down without your stomach knotting in discomfort at the thought that he was out somewhere out there and you just knew he was looking for you.

Lewis had called a few times but you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up any of his calls. How do you explain the reason you took off without seeming like you were losing your mind? Apart of you felt like he wouldn’t understand, maybe he’ll think you just took off because the date was going horrible which was far from the truth, so you left your phone to ring and after a notification would signal the voicemail left behind but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen too it, you were sure that you had ruined any chance of ever dating him now.

You hated this, hated that he had so much power over you even after all this time; thinking about all the steps you had taken to hide your identity and anything about your life back home. Your sister Mya being the only person you’ve told about your move to LA, wanting to be discreet for your own safety but that seems to have gone out the window.

On Monday, you had called into work, using some sick time you were able to get and knowing that you wouldn’t be able to focus on work, let alone be around other people, so you’ve taken the time to get dressed and go to your appointment with doctor Moorse.

“Good morning, Y/n!” Moorse, or Tammy as she told you too call her, offers you kind smile, holding her office door open for you as you take a step in. You take a few minutes, looking towards the windows with a few of the neighboring businesses and people walking along the sidewalk.

“Would you like some tea?” She asked, walking over towards the mini coffee bar she had set up in the corner of the room. You shook your head before taking a seat slowly on the light brown leather sofa, rubbing your palms on your jeans as you try to calm your nerves.

Tammy soon comes around and takes a seat across from you before taking off her glasses, a disappointed sigh comes from your lips. “Y/n, I just wanted to start off by apologizing for not answering the phone when you called.” You go to assure her that there wasn’t a problem but she shakes her head. “I think we’ve established a pretty good relationship here Y/n and I promised that I would always be a call away but I did not follow through on my end and therefore, I sincerely apologize.”

After accepting her apology, you dived into what happened Friday, you told her how you were nervous but still had a great time with Lewis but then you seen Matthew there and you ran, leaving Lewis there without an explanation and how you spent the remainder of your weekend in your apartment, afraid to even leave your apartment.

Tammy patiently listen as you spoke, her pen and pad sat in her lap her hands twisting the pen in her fingertips but she still waits a moment before speaking. “So, how does that make you feel now? ”

You haven’t thought about it, you didn’t know what you were suppose to do. “I-” a frown forms on your lips as you think more and more.

“I’ve kept having this dream...after what happened that night I-I keep having the same dream that he was-was...that I was sleeping in bed but my eyes were open and I could see him standing over him. Not touching me or saying anything too me just-watching me and I couldn’t move and he’s just smiling and smiling and smiling at me and-” You quickly wipe the tears that had fallen from your eyes as you recall the same dream that’s been haunting you since that night, “and I can hear their voice-”

“From your parents?” Tammy asked to clarify what you meant, she’s heard this story a hundred of times by now but she still asked you questions.

You nod your head, your mind replaying that unfaithful night over and over again in your head, the sound of the family dogs barking, the sounds of glass breaking, a gun firing, the sounds of your mother screaming, the smell of gasoline..you wanted to vomit, to erase your mind of that night completely.

Tammy studies you, seeing you shutting down and caving into yourself again wasn’t what she wanted but she knew you needed to go at your own pace. “Lets go back to earlier in the evening Friday, you were on a date with a man from your work?” She asked, steering the conversation away from your thoughts from home.

“Uh, he’s a customer actually.” You sniffle, wiping away any stray tears. “I haven’t spoken too him since I left. I just...I wouldn’t even know how to explain it.”

“Do you see yourself being in a relationship with this new man in your life?” You had shrugged your shoulder a little, thinking about the possibilities.

“I have only know him for about year I guess, not all that well but it was nice getting to know him..”

“You still can.” She state, in a matter or facts kind of way but you shook your head. “He probably hates me.” You state, sighing as you think about it.

“I hesitated when he first asked me and during dinner it felt like he was doing all the talking and I was just...there and then I just left like that.” Shaking your head, you glance down at your jeans, picking at the material. “He has tried calling and he’s left a few messages to see if I was okay and; he’s being so patient but how patient could a man be before he says ‘screw it this is too much work’ and just leave?”

Tammy stops writing on her notepad, waiting for you to finish your thought but she finds you staring at her, actually looking for an answer. “Well, I always believe that actions speak louder than words and if someone shows you who they really are and where their intentions lie. In your case, even though you don’t know him from a fly on the wall, it seems like he’s always made his intentions known with you.”

You sit back, listening to her words as she continues. “The best thing you can do Y/n, is to trust in your own gut. What is your gut telling you about this man?”

Your mind goes back to that evening, sitting across from him, feeling happiest for the first time in years and that brought a smile too your face. You liked how you felt whenever you talked too him, even if the conversation was no more than five minutes, you just liked him.

Tammy can’t help but feel happy seeing the small smile forming on your face as you process your thoughts, you have been her patient for little over four years now but has known you since you were a baby with both her and your mother being sorority sisters, so to watch your growth always brought a smile to her face.

“So, tell me more about your week.”

After your session with Tammy, you felt a better sense of clarity and a small grasp back on your sanity. You shoot your sister a text, keeping her up to date on the progress so far in your sessions as well as to catch up with her to make sure she was doing okay.

You were wandering around Ocean Avenue, enjoying the weather as the cool breeze from the ocean cooling you from the California heat; you felt good after your talk with Tammy and knew that going back home would end with you locking yourself in your apartment again so you enjoyed your walk out. Stopping at a street vendor for some fruit and water you continue on your walk, window shopping a few outfits as you past, Tammy did mention that it was time for you to start making your apartment feel less like a prison and more like a home. You haven’t brought anything outside the standard furniture but there wasn’t anything there that scream you and you wanted to change that.

Stopping in front of antique store, a royal velvet blue love seat sat on display just in your price budget, you pull your phone from your back pocket, snapping a photo of it before someone clearing their throat, gaining your attention.

Lewis stood off too your right, offering you a small smile. “Hey, Y/n”

You were shocked for a moment, not expecting to see him but apart of you was actually happy to see him, “hi Lewis.” you smile back before you both fall into silence, you wanted to say so much but you didn’t know where to start.

Lewis finally lets out a sigh, scratching the back of his before he focuses on you. “I’m sorry about the other night Y/n.”

You quickly shake your head. “N-No, I should be the one to apologize.” You rush out quickly. “I shouldn’t of left like that..” you shift a little on your feet, feeling small under his gaze, you can’t help but think that he has to be upset at you or something so you brings your eyes back to his, “I’m sorry Lewis.” You say softly, holding each others gaze as unspoken words pass between you two before Lewis takes a step closer towards and you feel the warmth on his hands holding on to your shoulder gently.

“Y/n-”

A voice from behind calls out to Lewis, another male and woman falling behind break whatever bubble you were both in and you watch as something flashes in his eyes but its gone the moment he looks away, an easy going smile plastered on his face now as he turns towards the two.

“How’s it going guys?”

The woman following behind soon hurries over, throwing herself at Lewis before clinging on to his arm. “Where have you been? I feel like I don’t see you anymore, baby!” she whines.

Your eyes quickly shift to Lewis to see his jaw clenched tight but the easy smile on his face remains. The man that had called for him reaches for you hand, introducing himself as Marcus before placing a kiss on the back of your hand which you soon pull away quickly.

“Where you headed beautiful? You should come join us for lunch?” Marcus had ask, either being completely oblivion to Lewis death glares or simply ignoring him altogether, Marcus offers you a playful smile.

The woman finally speaks up, her hard glare on you, “I’m sure she has other plans Marcus, just like us.” she fits in, making it known you weren’t welcome to join the three of them for lunch.

You offer them polite smile, already feeling your eyes threatening to water with tears. “Actually, I’ve already had a few plans so-but thanks for the offer.” you spare Lewis another glance, his eyes almost looks like he’s pleading with you.

For what? You didn’t bother to stick around and find out.

Lewis was in a bad mood.

If he had known he would of ran into you today then he would of had his schedule cleared and would of spent the whole day with just you. Instead, he was stuck sitting in a booth with Kim to his left and Marcus over on his far right ordering drinks for the table as they await their guest for the evening.

Waitress comes over, dropping off the drinks but lingering a bit for Lewis or Marcus attention before stomping away with a huff from being ignored. Kim takes a moment to glance over at Lewis who’s been tense sense they have left the strip, checking his phone every five minutes and she was getting annoyed.

“What’s your deal?”

Sparing her a glance, Lewis scoffs a little before taking a sip from his glass. “Why’d you have to do that earlier?”

Now it was her turn to scoff. “Do what?” she ask, faux innocent and all.

Lewis glares at Kim before shaking his head, “Never mind.” He says before pulling out his phone, scrolling through it and again she finds herself annoyed.

“Are you upset because I scared off your little girlfriend?” A smirk plays on her face as she watches his jaw tense more, the veins in hands becoming more profound the tighter his grip goes around his glass and phone.

Kim always knew just the right buttons to push to tick him off. They’ve been friends since they were kids, she knew Lewis better than she knew herself so she knew exactly what she was doing seeing him and whomever that other girl was, the looks Lewis was giving her; Kim hated it. So she did what she normally does, play the fake-girlfriend till the other women back off.

Lewis may not be able too see it but she was doing them both a favor. Less randoms coming into this line of business and she gets to keep Lewis to herself.

Win-win.

Finishing his drink, Lewis slams his glass down hard enough on the table that she was surprised that it didn’t shatter on impact. Kim looks back at him, seeing that same unreadable yet easy going smile that sent a chill down her back.

“Kim, do you know how long DeMarco is going to take until he gets here?” He ask calmly, a little too calm for her liking but at last, she reaches back towards her phone, checking for any updates before sighing.

“Five minutes away.”

Lewis leans back in his seat, replaying earlier events in his head, he wanted to say so much too you and he knew that you felt the same, he just knew but there was something holding you back and he wanted to know what it was but now he was wondering if he had officially ruined any chances with you.

“Good evening, I hope I didn’t keep you all waiting.”

Glancing up, the older gentleman appears before them, DeMarco Esposito stood before them, making Lewis sit up a little straighter as DeMarco drapes his coat over the back of the chair before taking a seat, only then does Lewis notice the other male standing a few feet away, most liking keeping guard.

DeMarco glance back and forth between the three of them before a low chuckle leaves his lips, relaxing Lewis a bit. “Lewis, my boy, how have things been?”

Lewis sighs a little, knowing he’s really not asking because he cares, DeMarco just wants to be sure that all his numbers and product are still good.

“Thing’s have been good. We’ve been getting shipments in on schedule and as far as talking goes, no one is uttering a peep about what we’ve got going on.” Lewis knew that DeMarco was all about business so might as well get right too.

A moment of silence stretches out as DeMarco takes in all the information, nodding his head slowly before he speaks. “I’m going to need you too cut ties with Gomez and his people.”

“What!?”

DeMarco quickly cuts Marcus a hard glance, silencing him before he could continue. Lewis watches for a moment before he speaks, “Are you sure about that?”

DeMarco soon turns his attention back to Lewis, “Why wouldn’t I be sure that?” though he seemed calm, Lewis knew better and knew that questioning DeMarco may have some consequences but as of late, DeMarco has becoming more and more reckless with his decisions and that could cost them a more than DeMarco thinks.

“We’ve been doing business with the Gomez’s for decades now, it would be foolish to just cut them off especially with the heat finally off our backs.”

DeMarco chuckles lowly before shaking his head slowly, “Foolish? Young man, you wouldn’t even begin to understand how foolish things really are. Gomez and his little gang are selling to kids, over taxing their neighbors, blowing each others brains out and killing for sport; no care in the world but you think that I am being the foolish one? Son, you have no idea how foolish I can be.”

Lewis remains silent, his jaw clenched but he keeps his focus down on the hard wood table. Satisfied with the lack of responses, DeMarco is soon out of his seat and pulling his coat back on before tossing a stack of cash in an envelope on the table,

“Take care of Gomez, quickly before I start losing my patience.”

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

A small sighs leave your lips as you settle back into bed with your laptop on your lap.

After leaving Santa Monica, you spend most of your day online shopping for your apartment, Travis and Nikki both reaching out to make sure you were okay since they believe you were out of work from being sick and you appreciated them checking in.

Now, after showering, you lay back in bed and start up where you left off at on Scandal. Only fifteen minutes in does your phone starts to ring, pausing your show, you reach over for your phone on your end table seeing Mya’s name and you soon pick up.

“Hey Mya, what’s up?”

“Just calling to talk-uh-are you busy?”

You soon sit up, tossing your laptop on to your bed before cupping your phone closer to your ear. “Is everything okay? Are you alright?”

It’s quiet on the other end for a moment before you hear her sighing. “I’m fine, Y/n but I just want you too be fine.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“After you called, I did some digging with Ryan and we called Maywest Rehabilitation Center about Matt..Y/n, he’s been dead since last year.”

You grow quiet, hearing your name being called but it sounds so far away as you let the news sink in before speaking. “H-How?”

“Suicide, they didn’t go into further details after that but they did say his mom came to pick up his things.” Mya says on her head, knowing that this is a lot for you to take in but it is what needed to be done.

“Mya I-I’m going to call you back.” After saying goodbye to your little sister, you sat on your bed, stuck on what you’ve just been told. After his trial, you had packed up and moved from multiple cities, the last being Seattle before you settled here in LA all because you were afraid that he would find you.

Tammy had said that you would feel a sense of paranoia from time to time the first year Matthew was put away. The first week you were seeing him everywhere so maybe it wasn’t any difference but that night, he looked so real, you swore that it was him but given the news now, a sense of relief some have came over you but in the back of your mind you had a feeling that he was still watching.

He was always watching.

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

Tag list: @honeychicanawrites @royallyprincesslilly @chaneajoyyy @munteanhorewrites @night-of-the-living-shred @fumbling-fanfics @crushed-pink-petals-writes @dc41896 @blackwomanwriter

A/N: Chapter two is out. Looks like Lewis maybe into some shady business as well as our Reader finding some shocking new information. Has everything really been in their head? What’s Kim deal? I hope you guy liked this chapter. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged (or untagged)

#lewis tan #lewis tan x black reader #lewis tan x reader #lewis tan fan fic #au fic #lewis tan au #lewis tan imagine #lewis tan x woc #lewis tan x poc #matthew grey gubler

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stutterfly · 5 years

Text

Love Bytes 04 | Addressing Error | KNJ (M)

Last time on LB03: You're ready to go home with Jimin, but obstacles arise, namely your own drunkenness. Namjoon helps you out of a tight spot and you find a new way to stave off loneliness: falling asleep in the comforting arms of a trusted friend. But is there more to it?

Rating: M (18+)

Word Count: 11.4K

Series: Love Bytes (4/?)

Genre: F2l, fluff, humor, slow burn, friendship feels, ANGST! pining, sexual tension, Bestfriends!au, CollegeProjessor!Namjoon, S O F T Namjoon

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader, brot7

CW: anxiety, hidden erections, nip-slips, and masturbation(teaser)

masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

A/N: Leave a comment if you like! It’s like fuel to my fire. 💜 Do not repost.

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“You’re stiff,” you murmur, nuzzling your head into the fabric of his shirt, trying in vain to get comfortable at a ninety degree angle. “Can you like… lay down instead?”

He sighs and repositions, wiggling down beside you. His massive hand cups your head close to his chest as he does so. His head falls against the pillow and he nudges the side of your face with his knuckles. “Better?”

Your face angles upwards and you can just barely make out the mocking flick of his tongue in the moonlight that slips through the blinds. You bury your face, humming a note of approval over his collarbone. You’re quick to splay an arm across his torso and uncurl your fingers against his chest. Heavy fingers climb on yours, trapping your hand between his and the heartbeat beneath your palm. His other hand lands on your shoulder and you shiver when he starts to trace lazy lines up and down your skin.

You don’t have time to fully appreciate the motion as sleep threatens to take you. The last thing you feel is his chin falling against the top of your head, both of you subconsciously snuggling closer. Never in your life have you felt so relaxed, so fast. You forget whom is resting beside you, holding you in a way that keeps you from drunkenly crying yourself to sleep. The world falls away. The thoughts of the night fall away. The emptiness is replaced by something good. Something tender. It’s a strange and foreign concept, and you can’t quite put your finger on it, but what you do know is that it’s the closest thing you’ve ever felt to a place you’ve never truly had: Home.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The first time Namjoon awakens, it’s to the sound of your heavy snoring. He lazily removes the cocked glasses from his face, relieved they hadn’t broken when he fell asleep. Turning his attention to you, he holds in a laugh, then a disgusted snort when he feels the moisture leaking from your mouth onto his arm. You’ve managed to roll away at some point, which makes it easier to slip his arm out from beneath you in order to remove the two layers of shirts from his sweating body.

How many times had he told you to get on the landlord about fixing the broken air conditioning in your unit? On such a hot night, this is torture. He’s tempted to remove his pants, but even half-asleep he knows that would get awkward real fast in the morning. Instead he carefully rises from the mattress and turns on the fan idling beside the bed.

A deep, quiet sigh passes his lips as he rests his head on the pillow once more, a wave of relief flowing with the air towards him. He blinks a few times, eyelids incredibly heavy as turns to face you, letting the breeze cool his back. Your legs are out from under the sheets and you’re hunched over, oversized shirt scrunched up and exposing the small of your back. He catches the goosebumps that form on your arms and quickly realizes your body might not be running quite as hot. Maybe he can share his natural temperature with you?

He tries as best he can to slide back into position with his arm beneath you, gently feeding it under the crook of your neck. As gross as your drooling and snoring is, it isn’t going to stop him from holding you. He’s been thinking about this for too long to let the opportunity pass him by. He snuggles in closer, blanket acting as a barrier between his now bare chest and your back. His arm falls over your hip as he leans closer, inhaling your scent and committing as much as he can to memory before letting the sounds of your snoring lull him back to sleep.

The second time his eyes open, the sheet is partially draped over him along with an arm and a leg. He takes in the dimly lit view of your face pressed against the skin of his chest. It feels like he’s dreaming, hazy thoughts tempting him to press his lips to the precipice of your forehead. His fingertips twitch against your shoulder, tugging the sheet up and swirling his fingers across it a few times with a smile. That’s when he notices the subtle tremble of your form. Not knowing if you’re cold or having a nightmare, he gently presses you back towards the comfort of your pillow, slowly, regretfully untangling his limbs from yours. He reaches down towards the foot of the bed and hikes a soft, fuzzy blanket to cover whatever chill you may be feeling. He waits, studying the quake of breaths as your chest rises and falls.

He rolls towards you, cradling your head into him, arm draping over you. Your cold fingers quickly find their way to the heat of his core. He breathes a sigh of relief, taking in the beauty of your face before closing his eyes and letting sleep reclaim him once more.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

When the sun creeps in through the blinds, it’s a good sign that it’s a lot later in the day than you’d like. You groan, rolling away from the light hitting your face and splay your hand across the mattress. Your eyes flutter open with the realization you had asked Namjoon to sleep with you last night. The sight of the empty space next to you has you breathing a sigh of relief --and if you’re being honest with yourself, just a hint of disappointment.

The recollection of his hands intertwined with yours causes a dull ache to form in your heart. It had been so long since anyone had held you like that. It felt so good. You close your eyes, envisioning those long, slender fingers cupping your shoulder. Were you remembering the details correctly? Had he actually been as caring and sweet as your mind recalled? The blanket covering your torso says yes. Scooching over to the side of the bed, you grab at the phone on your nightstand, pulling it from the charger. Your mind struggles to remember the moment you had enough clarity to charge your phone; you quickly surmise Namjoon probably did that for you too. As you swipe the screen, a message is waiting.

Joonie 😬: Drink up

That’s when you notice the cup sitting on the nightstand. The sweating glass and remnants of ice indicate it’s been there for quite some time. You throw your head back against the pillow and look over at the place where he had been laying last night. Again your hand drapes across the empty expanse of mattress, missing the heat from his chest when it comes into contact with something hard. Your fingers clasp around the plastic frames of Namjoon’s folded glasses. You puff your cheeks and expel a burst of air, wishing he were here instead of the item in your hand.

You attribute the thought to the frustration coursing through your lower abdomen. You reach into the drawer of your nightstand, pulling out the pink vibrator nestled between the lingerie you never wear. You’re sorely disappointed as you bring it to your aching cunt. Of fucking course the battery is dead. Tossing it aside, your fingers work quickly to ease the tension radiating throughout your body, remembering the way it felt grinding on Jimin’s cock.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It’s early in the week when you get the tech service request for Professor Kim’s office computer. It’s been relatively slow so far. If Namjoon’s good for one thing, it’s your job security. You’ve only gotten a couple repairs and a stream of basic support calls, most of which were fixed by turning the computer off and on again. You roll your eyes as you read the description of the problem, but when they click “in-person appointment: required, status: urgent” you hardly have a choice in whether or not the trek across campus is worth your time. How many times could you tell him what the ethernet cable looked like? Although with his luck, he might have ripped it from the tower with his gangly legs and broke it.

Regardless, you stuff an extra ethernet cable into your tool case and click “accept.” A message appears on your work tracker with a smiley face with thick black frames and buck teeth: “Your Tech Service Is On the Way!” On one hand you hate that stupid emoji, but on the other hand it makes you laugh that management is convinced this is the way you make people not scream at you when their wireless mouse needs a battery changed.

You begin the journey across campus on foot, knowing it’s a little over a kilometer to his office in the library. As you exit the computer science building, you longingly stare at the little golf carts you once had the luxury of using for quick transport from one end of campus to the other. However, since the last IT guy they hired took one for a joyride and crashed it into the koi pond in front of admissions, all carts had been recently restricted to security only. You also find the campus courtesy bike rack empty as you round the corner. You swear they should always keep at least one bike reserved for maintenance, but whatever. Your mood lightens a few steps in as sunshine floods your skin; it’s been a slow day anyway. Who knows? Maybe Joon actually has a reasonable problem with his network this week.

After a leisurely stroll in the sun, two flights of stairs, and stack after stack of bookshelves, you finally arrive at his office door. It occurs to you that he might be with a student as you approach the closed door, so you take a deep breath and try to put on your best fake customer service smile before rapping your knuckles against the wood, narrowly missing the plaque with his name engraved on it.

A few seconds later the professor is opening the door, with an expression as hard as stone. You can tell by the bags under his eyes that he’s fatigued, but physically composed nonetheless. It never ceases to amaze you the transformation he undergoes from slicked-back, slacks and suit coat “Mr. Kim” to mussed up hair, Saturday night baggy sweats Namjoon. The smile falls from your face as you look at him. You feel like Smeagol emerging from his cave for the first time in years, highly aware of the lack of makeup on your face, the disheveled birds nest that is your hair, and the cheap white t-shirt and cargo pants full of screws that loosely hang about your waist.

He blinks a few times and his expression softens, little dimples forming with a wan smile. “Oh good. It’s only you.” He nods towards his desk. “Come in.”

“Rough week, buddy?” you ask, half teasing, half concerned for his state of mind. When he doesn’t answer, you quirk an eyebrow at him, slipping in past his far-off stare.

The door closes softly a moment later and you’re already getting your case open in the event it’s needed. Clearly he’s not in a chatty mood, but you feel the need to offer anyway. Gripping his shoulder brings him back down to earth, looking at you through troubled brows. “Hey, if you wanna talk… I’m here, Joon.”

“I’d love to get your opinion…” A frustrated sigh passes his lips and he breaks past you to pace around the comfy chair across from his desk. “But... I can’t talk to you about my students, you know that.”

You cock your head to the side, sheepishly scratching your cheek with a fingertip as you watch him stride across his office. “Is this another one of those ethical things or an actual policy?”

You don’t take it personally when he glares daggers at you. As you settle in his computer chair you do a preliminary scan of his network settings, stealing cursory glances towards him. He plops into the cushioned chair across from the desk, sinking into it with a sigh.

“So there’s this student,” he begins, locking eyes with you briefly.

“Mmm-hmm,” you hum in a tone that tells him to proceed, gazing at the screen as you wait for him to spill whatever he’s so preoccupied with.

“They’re brilliant, but they don’t care about the work. They don’t even need to try that hard; they have this natural talent, but they can’t be bothered to even put in the bare minimum. I don’t think they’ve even read any of the required texts for the course,” he continues, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t like seeing anyone fail my course, especially not someone as smart and creative as this. How do you reach someone who doesn’t want to try? How do you keep someone from falling through the cracks?”

Your eyes rest on the screen, not really looking at anything as your brain scrambles to piece together some kind of advice. “I learned years ago when I tutored people… you can’t make people care about the content. You can suggest ways of making the experience unique or fun for individuals. But ultimately, it’s on them. Three things I think when I show up for work every day: do your best, be patient, and don’t give up.”

Your eyes meet again and you can see him exhale, features still troubled, but the smile he sends your way is warmer, more relaxed. “Do you best. Be patient. Don’t give up,” he repeats softly and lets a halfhearted chuckle loose. “Thank you. I’ll think about it some more.” He groans, rising to his feet and smoothing back his hair. “After I grade the rest of the tests and essays.” You stiffen as he circles the desk, standing behind you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Make any progress?”

You tongue the inside of your cheek as you stare at the blinking cursor on command prompt. You haven’t actually done anything yet and in an attempt to look busy you run a quick ipconfig command, knowing it will look like a bunch of gibberish to someone like Joon. With the computer not recognizing the ethernet and no wireless adapter installed, you know the first step is to check the physical connection. You clear your throat loudly as you drop to your hands and knees, mumbling a quick. “Working on it.”

The tower is further back under the desk than you would like and you pull it towards you just a bit, falling onto your elbows to inspect the cables. Seeing everything in tact, your vision follows the cord to the jack in the wall; everything looks normal.

Namjoon keeps his hands tucked away, watching the delicious sight of you on all fours before him. This is easily one of his favorite parts about your visits, though he always tries to act casual about it. Face down, ass up; you really get into it. He wants to say you do it on purpose because maybe you know what it does to him--he had seen your games of chicken with Jimin, ever the tease-- but he also knows it’s more likely a side effect of you being passionate about your job.

Still, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get a sick satisfaction watching you like this. You grunt softly, lunging even farther forward onto one knee in order to physically ensure the cable is pushed into the wall. Namjoon’s eyelids close and he sighs, biting down on his lip to force the air through his nostrils. He turns towards the window to hide the way his pants begin to tent, but keeps his head turned to watch your ass sway from side to side, the thin outline of your panties visible through the cream-colored fabric.

God, he hates himself for being so gross, but he can’t seem to break away from the sight, especially not with the lingering memory of Saturday haunting the gap between his thoughts: your legs dragging across the sheets, enticing him to join you in bed with the subtle pout of soft lips that promised more than they could possibly deliver. He wonders if you even remember, but doesn’t dare to get his own hopes up by assuming you do. You were drunk. Didn’t really mean it. Cuddling you was a one time thing. He knew that and yet he was still trying to find a way to reassure himself that once would be enough to sate the craving deep inside. But now he knew how it felt to wake up next to you, and it only intensified his desire to repeat the interaction.

You reach back towards the end of the cable plugged into the computer and push against it with your thumb and forefinger. There’s a small ‘click’. That will probably do it, but you lean back and wiggle out of the crawlspace beneath the desk, staying on your knees as your eyes scan the screen for any difference in connectivity.

You feel Namjoon hovering behind you and your eyes dart to the face that appears beside yours as he leans in. “Did you fix it?”

You fix your eyes back to the screen. Network connected. You do another ipconfig and flush the DNS just for good measure. “Looks like it. Ever thought about not kicking your big clown feet into the mess of wires down there?”

“Is that how you talk to all your clients?” he scoffs as he stands up straight. He casually walks behind the computer chair and plants his hands on the back cushion, careful to hide the softening bulge in his pants.

You move to seat yourself as he nudges it toward you. “Just the ones that are incompetent enough to need my help every week when they unhook their ethernet."

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms in a huff. "Okay well it could have been something more. You would have yelled at me if I tried to fix it myself 'cause you know I would have probably made it worse somehow."

"That's true," you mutter, falling back to rest against the cushion of the chair. "Alright, is there anything else you needed or is this it?" You tilt your head back up to look at him.

His eyes lock onto yours. Could he tell you? Is now the time? He starts playing all of the possible scenarios in his head of how this might play out. The anxiety bubbling in his chest causes an uncomfortable span of silence to choke the air out of his lungs. Nope. Not today.

You clear your throat loudly as you stand. "Okay well, as always, don't forget to leave a review on the app if I resolved your issue, Mr. Kim."

He blinks a few times in rapid succession, snapping himself back to reality. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

You grab your tool case and turn back for a moment, coy smile on your lips. "Just being professional."

"Professional, my ass," he laughs and you can still hear the tiredness in it. "Don't worry. I'll give you a good review."

"Okay, but like don't be too extra 'cause they'll know we're friends. Short and simple," you say, opening the door and flashing him a phony smile. In an attempt to make him smile, you put on your best customer service voice once more. "I hope my services were pleasurable, Mr. Kim!"

He chokes out a cough to restrain his laughter as you turn to face the student waiting outside the doorframe. You inhale deeply, holding the air in as you try to think of something that will save face with this doe-eyed, timid-looking girl --most likely a freshman.

The breath leaves you in a quick huff as you attempt to make a statement. "Sorry. I need to go service someone else, excuse me."

Hoping the words came out too fast for the poor girl to comprehend, you nearly sprint around the closest stack of books and try to purge the memory of the horrified look on that girl's face. Your phone beeps and a message appears: 'Feedback: Professor Kim Namjoon: "Better than GeekSquad."' You shake your head and mutter "he's so lame" as you travel through the stacks, but you can't help the smile that creeps across your face. Despite just embarrassing the shit out of you both, you take pride in the personal flare of his comment.

The rest of your day goes by painfully slow and for some reason you find yourself thinking how professional Namjoon always manages to look in his professor attire. Even dead tired, he still manages to look so good, so composed--again, not that you'd ever admit it to his face. You catch a glimpse of yourself in a blank monitor nearby and crinkle your nose at the reflection. Your boss is a pretty chill dude and is super laid back about dress code, but maybe you could stand to try a little harder. It's not like you're trying to impress anyone, but something about feeling like a shriveled goblin next to Namjoon today has you second guessing the laissez faire nature of your wardrobe.

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A little later in the week, you're sprawled across the loveseat after work, neck craned around the armrest as you're catching up on a tv show. The phone resting on your chest buzzes and your heart damn near stops beating for just a second. Panic slowly seeps into your mind. It's not often you get a direct message from Taehyung. Group chats are one thing. You seeking him out for advice is another. But unprompted texting direct from the god of baritones? Why do you get the feeling there's something sinister at play here?

Oh, right. Because Taehyung is a beautiful goddamn hermit.

You stare blankly at the keyboard on your phone. Over the last year, you've gotten close to the seven of them, but Taehyung has been the most closed off, the hardest to get to know. His resting bitch face makes for a great barrier between the outside world and himself and you can't help but think maybe he likes it that way. Come to think of it, you still don't know much about him, except for the fact that he's loaded, good at painting, and insanely attractive. And you know how he makes you feel: nervous, faint, like a helpless animal caught in a trap.

You've never been well-equipped to talk to someone of his stature. Just catching eyes with him makes you feel unworthy of his gaze, like you're so far beneath him that it's a crime to do so. You know he's not so scary, that he's not a god to be placed on any pedestal, but his presence intimidates you. His eyes, his body language, the way he talks; it's all very closed off compared to the others and you worry it might be that you've done something to upset him at some point and he's just held onto it instead of mentioning it directly.

In fact, you sometimes worry that you might not even be friends at all, what with the level of distance he seems to maintain. You hope that he considers you one, but you find yourself growing increasingly nervous the longer the message before you remains an inquiry in need of response.

Tae: Are you busy?

Should you just pretend you didn't see it? No. He has a fancy new iPhone. There's no way he won't get the read receipt on it. Stop taking so long and just act normal.

You: Haha just me and some Netflix. What's up?

The loud gunshots playing from the TV do nothing to distract you from the silence of your phone. Your eyes are glued to the image on your lock screen, waiting for Taehyung to message you back. You nearly jump when the vibrations hit your hand.

Tae: Come over

Your eyes feel like they're going to pop out of your skull. Why? An invite to his place? Are we on a group chat? No? Oh fuck. The panic sets in and you feel like you're going to pass out as you read far too much into the two simple words on your screen. A knot forms in your stomach and sweat begins to build on your forehead. Clumsy fingers fumble their way across the keyboard.

You: Excuse me???

Tae: Oh... has Hoseok not talked to you yet...?

You peel your eyes from the screen and stare blankly at the television for a moment, brows immediately furrowing.

You: about what

The knot in your stomach grows bigger as you wait for the response. What the fuck did Hobi do now?

Tae: ...

Tae: The photoshoot?

You rise from the couch, dread filling the expanse of your belly. What the fuck do you mean photoshoot? You're a bitch on a mission, already sprint-stomping down the hallway towards Hoseok and Yoongi's apartment. Your knuckles rap against the door in quick succession, not having time or the patience for your special knock. Almost a minute passes before you press an ear against the door. Nothing. Again you knock, louder this time. There's a grumble and shuffling from the other side before the door swings open.

You're about to vent your frustration and confusion when you realize it's not Hoseok standing before you, but his roommate. You don't know why it hasn't dawned on you until this very moment that there was a very good possibility Yoongi would answer the door. The annoyance in his face fades with the recognition of the shock on yours.

He flashes you a subdued smile, sucking his bottom lip through his teeth. "Yes?"

Immediately your posture becomes rigid, bristling at the innocent response to you pounding on his door. Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you prepare your lips for the words funneling painfully slowly out of your brain. You haven't had a chance to permanently quarantine the memory of Yoongi finger-fucking two girls at the club. You're positive that fact is written all over your face as he raises his eyebrows and darts his tongue out to wet his lips.

Amused by your silence, he leans against the doorframe and tilts his head up at you with a cocky grin. "Do you always freeze up when you see something you like?"

Your jaw snaps shut as you swallow the frog in your throat and shake your head. "Just when I see something I'm not expecting."

He seems entertained as he crosses his arms. "So did you actually need something or are you just desperate for attention?"

The direct nature of his question catches you off guard and you feel your pride take a hit. You mirror his stance, shrinking in stature as you fold your arms across your chest. "Y-You don't have to be rude!"

A smile cracks at the corners of his mouth. "Relax I'm kidding... Mostly."

You roll your eyes. "Well I'm not here for your mean jokes today. Where's your roommate? I've got a bone to pick with him."

You don't hear Hoseok approaching from behind you, a finger pressed to his lips as a signal for Yoongi to remain silent. The mint-haired man raises his eyebrows and cocks his head in the other direction, the anticipation of the upcoming scare growing the smug grin on his face. "Not up for banter? Tsk, tsk. That's not like you. Did your night with Namjoonie go that poorly?" he teases, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth. "Are you sensitive because Jimin's rubbing off on you?"

Even ignoring the insinuation about Namjoon, which is totally ludicrous, the double meaning of his last statement is not lost on you. Yoongi laughs in his obnoxious way, shoulders rising and falling with the nearly breathless, croaky sound emanating from his throat. “Or is it because he’s not?”

The humiliation tints your cheeks with pink, although it's hard to hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears. Hoseok takes the opportunity to sneak in closer as you attempt to stutter out a defense.

He gives a sudden stomp towards you and grips your shoulders. “Again!?”

You jump hard, reaching out towards Yoongi for safety. The lurch forward is accompanied by a frightened yelp passing your lips. The two boys burst into a fit of laughter as you spin on your heels to face Hoseok.

"You're such a dick, Hobi!" you hiss, running shaky fingers through your hair, pretending you can comb the anxiety from your scalp if you just keep trying.

He grins and bows. "At your service. Still better than those Tinder dicks though."

"She's looking for you," Yoongi says with a yawn, scratching at the back of his head. "Sounded pretty pissed from the way she was stomping around."

Hoseok's brow knots and he puckers his lips at you as he whines, "Why?"

You note the duffel bag strapped to his chest and the sweat drenching every inch of his body. He looks absolutely exhausted. That almost lessens the desire to bring it up, but Taehyung's message is still unanswered. Every time you think about it you die a little more inside.

You take a moment to sharply inhale through your nose, sighing out a long exhale as you thrust the screen of your phone in his face. "Why is Taehyung texting me about a photoshoot?"

The way you're waving it around makes it difficult for him to see. He leans back, cupping his hands around the edge of the phone to get a better look. His eyes suddenly snap to you and a crooked smile splits his face in two. The knot in your stomach ties itself up a second time as he snatches the phone from your grasp and books it down the hallway towards your apartment. You blink a few times and give chase just as he steps inside; you want to scream at him but you're very aware of the public hallway separating you. Yoongi rubs his eyes and slowly returns to his lair, ready for the relief of sleep to cure the pain of extra shifts. "I'm not awake enough for this."

"I live here you know," you remind Hoseok as you close the door to your own apartment.

The man is oddly absent from the room, Netflix still blaring on the TV. The contents of his duffel bag have been dumped onto your living room floor and you can hear him talking to himself in another room.

"Hobi?" you call, rushing into the bedroom. "Hobi! What the hell?"

The duffel bag lays open on the bed, already half filled with clothes: your clothes. Hoseok doesn't bother to spare a glance as he tosses something in the bag; it looks vaguely familiar, but you don't bother to look closer because he's already taking out another item. He's careful with both delicate straps as he pulls it from the hanger, cellphone glued to his ear. A series of thoughtless one-word affirmations are mumbled into the receiver as he traps the device between his shoulder and neck. He cocks his head to the side as he inspect the dress, running his fingers down the material. Spinning on his heels toward you, he presses the fabric against himself, mouthing "WOW!" with a cheeky grin. You wish he'd act a little less surprised to find something sexy in your wardrobe. Dick.

You tongue the inside of your cheek as he runs one of his hands along the material draped across his chest and throws his torso back dramatically. That thing has been the back of your closet since the day you bought it; there is literally never a reason to wear it, but you can't exactly bring yourself to donate it either, not for the money you paid. He pauses a moment and notes the long slit in the side of the dress, playfully dragging a hand up his thigh. The impulse buy clings to him as he rotates his hips a few times to mock you, and heat rushes to your face. With a silent laugh, he tosses the garment into the bag.

"Yeah, we'll be over soon. See you in 15. Okay, bye." As he hangs up he slides the closet door shut, shining smile doing nothing to lift the frown from your lips.

"Hobi. What. Did. You. Do." The stippled words cut their way through your mouth. You can't help the bristle in your tone but your impatience has gotten the better of you.

His grin grows impossibly wider. "Ah, what are you mad for? Can't you at least hear me out before your face gets like this?" He scrunches up his features in an attempt to drop the scowl on yours, but your expression remains unchanged. "Hmmm. Okay!"

With a quick zip, he tosses the bag back around his shoulder. You raise your eyebrows at him and cross your arms. "You wanna tell me why you're packing my clothes?"

"We're going to Tae's. I'll explain on the drive," he responds simply, trying to loop his arm in yours but you shrug him off and step out of range. His face drops into a pout. "Come on. Why don't you trust me?"

"Because I know you," you snort, wagging your finger in his face. "You are not one to be trusted. Sneaky, Jung Hoseok."

He places a palm over his heart and looks at you as though you just wrongfully insulted his character, but you know better than to trust the dramatic act. He needs to explain himself and not just drag you off on some bizarre adventure. You're exhausted. While earlier this week had been pretty lax, an upsurge in service requests had you running all over campus on a tight schedule and not all of the issues were quite so easy as re-seating a loose cable. There’s a lot waiting for you tomorrow, so for tonight you want nothing more than to mindlessly binge TV and vegetate.

"Explain."

He shifts his weight to one foot and folds his hands over one another, sheepishly twiddling his thumbs. "Well... After looking through your dating profile, I thought maybe we could help you make it better."

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. "That's what this is about? Hobi…” You want to forget he even knew about that, but his words replay in your head. Your eyes narrow. "...Wait… We?"

"The group. Me. Yoongs, Tae, Chim, Kook, Jin... even Namjoon. We all wanna make you a new profile."

"There's nothing wrong with what I have. Give me my phone." You hold your palm out and flex your fingers at him a few times.

"Oh really?" He tosses your phone back at you, causing you to fumble. "Tinder's going good then? Talking to a lot of people?"

"I haven't really had time to look," you fib, an innate eye twitch threatening to give you away. Swiping is part of your bedtime routine and you haven't gotten any matches, but he doesn't need to know that. In your defense, you've only been shown bottom-of-the-barrel neckbeard types anyway. You look from the phone back to Hoseok's smug face.

"What's so bad about my current profile? I worked really hard on it!" The brittle tone of your voice betrays the defense of your words. Tears are building up behind your eyes, but you won't let them out yet. How embarrassing, how sad must your life seem if all seven of them want you to start over? He said even Namjoon was on board. Could it be because of Saturday?

Your eyes scan the disheveled blankets, remembering how stupid you sounded that night, how pitiful and weak you had been to practically throw yourself at him in a hopeless attempt to feel something with someone. Did he tell them? Or did Hobi just figure it out on his own? The lump in your throat makes it hard to swallow but it's all you can manage to suppress the rage bubbling inside you.

No no no no no. Do not fucking cry right now. The tears hold for now, but the dam can break at any second.

"Okay I'm gonna be honest. Your profile? Meeeeeeh." He holds out his hand and flips it rapidly back and forth. "But with our help we can make it like WOAH SO AMAZING!" He flips both palms and raises them to the ceiling before waving his hands around to further accent his statement.

How the hell did he have all this oomph left after dance practice? You can practically feel the positive energy radiating from him, doing your best to keep your expression sour. But the genuine smile on his face makes you want to believe he will make things better, not worse.

"...How?"

"Well, taking new photos for starters," he says, sheepishly scratching his cheek.

"What? What's wrong with my photos?" You're already pulling them up to review again, just in case they're actually embarrassing and you're just too clueless to realize.

"Ah! Nothing!" he yelps, pulling you into a hug. "But I think you can have better ones, not just selfies." He tussles your hair and you crack a smile.

The weight of his hands move down and tug playfully on the hair behind your neck, forcing you to look up at him. The memory of his offer at the club resurfaces in your mind. Your cheeks feel like they're on fire. You swallow, looking up into deep brown eyes that radiate hope. You lose the argument on the tip of your tongue before it can even form.

"I asked Tae if he could shoot something a little more sexy."

You step back to create some space, breaking the teasing hold he has. Your eyes drift to your phone and scour the app for your profile. You hold up the full body shot for him to see again, as if this time he will agree that you don't need their help. "Um, excuse me? This one is sexy."

He tilts his head to the side and throws up his hands. "Ah, yeah. That one's sexy and mysterious. I like the curves, but I think we can turn up the heat. I'm thinking more of you in that dress!" he adds with a wolf whistle.

A small chuckle escapes your lips. Of course he thinks that; he’s Hobi. His fire burns hotter than most people’s. Even so, maybe he has a point. "You think that will really help?"

"I know it," he says with the confidence of a man who knows he's got you on the ropes. "Ah... Look we all know how amazing you are. Let us help you show it!"

You're still not totally convinced this is a great idea, but your batting average is zero right now and you're at least somewhat willing to entertain the idea that they can help increase the number.

"Okay. Let me grab my makeup. We can't be out all night though. I have to work tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know it's a school night. Don't worry. I'll have you back before you turn into a pumpkin." He grins, jingling the car keys now between his fingers. You're already texting Namjoon to help you hatch an escape plan.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You've been standing with your arms covering your chest for the better part of five minutes, internally dismantling what little confidence you possessed before coming here. Hoseok had been persuasive enough on the drive here; he made a good argument for taking nicer photos in slightly sexier clothing with better angles and lighting. But you had gone far past "slightly sexy" the moment Hoseok abandoned you for a shower in Taehyung's master suite, handing you off to an almost too eager Jungkook.

Needless to say, Hoseok failed to mention Taehyung's gorgeous roommate would be involved, nor did he mention Jungkook would be planning your outfit combinations with Tae's scene setup. Did they really have to get so involved and make a huge deal about your stupid dating profile?

Standing in Jungkook's bedroom now clad in swimwear, you stare at the grumpy reflection in the full-length mirror before you. I can't fucking go out there like this. I feel practically naked.

You carefully open a dresser drawer in search of cover for your humiliation. Jungkook is just outside with the rest of your clothes Hoseok stuffed into his gym bag. If only he let you have it so you could at least see if there was something in there to cover up with.You can tell his patience is waning as the familiar quick rapping of knuckles comes once more.

"Y/N, are you okay?" The concern in his tone almost makes you feel guilty for going through his shit, but you can't just go out there dressed in just your bikini and some cutoffs.

You swallow hard, eyes scanning every last piece of fabric crammed in the drawer. How the hell does he even fit everything in here???

"Yeah, I'm fine," you call back, trying not to sound as distressed as you feel. "Just, uh.... struggling with the straps."

There's a short pause. "...Do you need any help? I'm pretty good with straps." The words travel to your ears accompanied by visions of the mischievous grin you know he's sporting.

Inhaling deeply, you hold your breath. When you had first met Jungkook, he was shy, timid, kind, and definitely not the teasing brat you had come to know. No matter how much time passes, he still seems to hold onto immature remarks that make you want to toss him out a window. Like you could. That guy is built like a brick shithouse.

You take a moment to collect yourself, grabbing at the nearest piece of fabric that catches your eye. "Aw, it's so cute when baby wants to help."

As you quickly slip the white flowing fabric over your shoulders, you check yourself in the mirror one last time. Thank god you shaved this morning or this would be way more awkward. Combing your fingers through your hair drives you to look for more imperfections, wishing he hadn't taken your hair-tie.

The groan from the other side of the wall pulls you out of scrutiny-mode. "I am not a baby."

"Bras are a little different than the jockstraps you're used to, Kookie," you sneer, pulling the door open in a huff.

Jungkook is hunched over the frame with an elbow. The rebuttal dies on his lips as his gaze travels from the floor up your body. Your ears start ringing at the silence and the undeniable thirst in his expression, the way he darts his tongue out, holding his teeth over his lower lip. His stare lingers a little too long on your breasts so you cross your arms, the flowing material around your form obscuring his view.

Agitated eyes snap to your face as he uses his tongue to poke the inside of his cheek. His features scrunch into a scowl. "I do have game you know. You're looking at an international playboy."

God he's so full of shit. Making out with a girl at the 'Small World' ride at Disneyland doesn't count.

"Yeah okay, Kookie," you scoff, rolling your eyes as you move to walk past him.

A rigid forearm reaches across the doorway to block your path, sleeveless shirt showcasing every bulging muscle in his arms. He straightens his posture to tower over you, flexing in a show of bravado. "It's Jungkook."

The air is sucked from your lungs as he pins you with a dark, taunting look that almost rivals Yoongi's. Almost. Needles prick at your ears and you can feel your hands immediately start to break into a cold sweat.

"What, you don't believe me, Noona?" he asks innocently, sweeping gentle fingers along your shoulder and around your neck. You grow tense at the sensation, doing your best to fight the stutter in your blink and the hitch in your breath.

The arm crossing the doorway drops and tugs on the material covering you. "Is that my shirt?"

"You're not using it," you argue, grateful for the distraction as you slip past him. "Does it really bother you that much?"

"No, I don't mind. But..." His lips pucker up into a ridiculous pout and he sways his body back and forth. "The whole point is to make you look sexy but you're here covering up. Hyung trusted me with this job. Promise you'll take it off when you're in front of the camera?"

"You're taking it off for the camera?" Namjoon's voice booms out from over your shoulder. He takes a second to snap his tongue against his teeth as he approaches. "Wow. Guess you don't need saving after all, Geeksquad."

You spin to give him a playful shove, but an uneasy sensation quickly settles in the pit of your stomach. Time seems to slow as the strap around your neck falls. The words passing your lips are frenzied nonsense, clumsy hands fumbling to keep soft flesh from spilling out of your top. Namjoon's eyes go wide, mouth falling open at the sight of your failure. You curse, turning back towards Jungkook as you manage to regain coverage.

If the smug grin didn't give him away, the cocky words that follow seal his culpability. "I'm pretty good with straps. Sure you don't need some help?"

Your eyes narrow, fingers floundering with the tie around your neck. "Don't you have something better to do?"

His obnoxious laugh echoes down the hallway as he slips past you. "I'll tell Tae you're on your way."

You fold the cover across your chest and face Namjoon, clearing your throat weakly. "Y-You didn't, uh..."

He rubs a hand across the back of his neck, blush mirroring yours. "No, no. I didn't."

"Okay." You breathe a sigh of relief. "Good. Good."

"I-I mean I barely saw--" He puffs out his cheeks, guilt painting his features.

You inhale deeply, trying to quell the shame in your chest as you cast your gaze at the floor. Silence fills the air between you for a few seconds.

He sputters out a held breath and pinches his fingers together. "Okay, like just a-- just a little nip-nipple--"

"Oh my god! Namjoon!" You bring your hands to cover your face, wanting to slither back into Jungkook's room and seal yourself away. But you force yourself to brush past him and make your way to the room Taehyung had converted to his studio. You can hear Namjoon’s long strides behind you, barely needing to try to keep pace with your pathetic attempts at jogging. He keeps muttering out apologies, but every word only heightens your awareness to the awkwardness of the event rather than helping you forget it.

The door to Taehyung’s studio is already open and as you turn the corner to enter, you come to a screeching halt, causing Namjoon’s to smack against your back. He reaches to your shoulders to steady himself, but it doesn’t even register on the list of things currently buzzing through your brain. It’s so well lit in here. No one told you it would be this bright. You cross Jungkook’s shirt impossibly closer to your torso and swallow the hum buzzing in your throat.

Sensing your discomfort, Namjoon leans down and whispers, “Hey, we can just leave. This is too much. I’ll talk to them.”

A relieved chuckle bursts from your mouth with the breath you’ve been holding. He offers the escape you asked for. He offers the familiar comfort and safety of returning to your apartment. But these things bring you no closer to the companionship you crave, meaningful or trivial in nature. Maybe what you asked for isn’t really what you need.

Looking about the room, Taehyung’s back is to you as he works on finalizing the tripod in the middle of the room, focusing the camera atop it at the well-lit screen. Off to the side, a very casually dressed, very wet, curly-haired Hoseok holds both ends of the towel draped around his neck. Beside him Jungkook stands with arms crossed and crinkled nose as he throws his head back in obnoxious laughter that fills the room. The pair are speaking to a short, well-dressed blonde man who contrasts everything about the two standing adjacent to him. If his stature, tight pants, and billowing overshirt didn’t give it away, the way he quickly roams his fingers through his hair as he talks to Jungkook certainly does.

Jimin?! Jimin’s here too?! What kind of fucked up intervention is this? I’m going to kill Hobi.

Hoseok’s attention span wavers and settles on your form in the doorway as you all but cower back into Namjoon. Hoseok’s excited wave draws the attention of his companions and they turn their gaze on you. Jungkook’s smug smirk, Hoseok’s thrilled grin, and Jimin’s shy smile illicit extremely different fear responses, which mingle to form a deep panic in your gut that threatens to cause hyperventilation.

Namjoon’s fingertips dig into your skin, thumbs kneading soothing circles into the meat of your shoulders. He speaks softly, but his deep voice buzzes deep in your eardrum. “Breathe. It’s okay. I’ll tell ‘em to call it off.”

You let out a deep, controlled exhale. Then another. The panic attack that threatens to take hold quickly crumples in your belly. You often take for granted just how well Namjoon knows you, how well he can read the signals of your body and avert disaster before it arrives. Never once have you given it a second thought, never questioned the stability he offers with a touch, the praise that mollifies you. Today is no different; you push the gratitude aside and settle your eyes on the blonde man across the room.

“Good. Good...” The delicate string of breath against your ear trails off, knowing full well you’re already past it.

The others have fallen silent, waiting for you to move in and say something. The snarky comment on your lips shrivels and your lips melt into a goofy smile at the awkward air filling the room. Taehyung senses something is off and turns slowly, one hand still on the tripod as he locks eyes with you from across the room. An icy chill fills your lungs as his intense stare bores into you. Your shoulders raise, muscles tightening as you slink back into Namjoon’s chest. Taehyung slips his hands in his pockets as long, confident strides carry him towards you.

“You look terrified,” he mumbles with a stony expression that twists your stomach into knots. “Are you afraid of me? Of us?”

The hardness in his eyes fades in an instant and is replaced by a kindness you rarely see. His mouth curls into a warm smile as he leans forward with a slight bow. “You don’t have to worry so much, you know. We’re friends. We want to help, but I understand if it’s too much being put on the spot like this.”

We’re friends. You knew that and still the anxiety corroding your insides persists. The energy shift in his persona nearly gives you whiplash. Was this the same angry-looking man, poised like a god as he did his peacock strut over here? He raises a hand towards you, palm facing the ceiling. The rings around his fingers seem to shimmer as they reflect the lights set around the room.

“Only take my hand if you want to be here,” he says softly, the low bass of his tone almost apologetic. “There’s nothing joyful about taking pictures of someone who doesn’t feel like smiling.”

He seems so sincere and genuine. Is this what Taehyung is really like under that cold exterior? Your shoulders relax and your arms drop to your sides, allowing Jungkook’s shirt to partially expose your torso. His eyes never waver from your face as he waits for your answer. The others watch on, silently nodding at his words. You can feel Namjoon’s fingers drop down your back, tracing light, reassuring lines as they go.

“Taehyung,” you begin, voice stronger than you imagined it would be. You clasp your cold, clammy fingertips along the warmth of his. “I would be honored if you would photograph me. Sorry it’s not for anything more exciting than a dating profile.”

His smile grows wider and he offers a playful tug, lurching you forward. “It’s not the final output that matters so much to me as the moments spent taking them.”

Was everyone else seeing how sweet he was being? You look over at the trio, but they appear unfazed. Were you really the only one surprised by Taehyung’s hidden kindness? You suppose it makes sense, considering they have all known each other for much longer. Not everyone is going to spill their guts to someone after a year of only moderate interaction.

You nod, appreciating the sentiment. “Okay. Show me where I should stand and what I should do.”

He gently directs you to a seemingly random spot in front of the camera. You feel washed out under the heat of at least three different lamps shining at you. Taehyung steps back, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you. His brow twitches lightly and he shifts his jaw back and forth before turning his attention to the trio standing nearby.

“Jimin, warm ups. Jungkook, reflector. Hyung--” Taehyung starts barking orders, but Hoseok interrupts already on his way to you.

“I got it!” He cheerfully replies, pulling a small lip balm from his pocket and hastily twists it open. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I thought about it for a long time before finally picking this color for you.”

You purse your lips and reluctantly tick your jaw a few times. Reluctance has a strong hold on you.

“Oh relax, you big baby,” he chides, vicing your cheeks with his thumb and index finger to force your lips to pucker. He’s careful with his application of the color to your lips, making sure not to veer off course. “You’re gonna do great. Trust me. Just relax.” He demonstrates by taking in a deep breath, holding it, and then exhales. “Easy!”

"Yeah, easy." You sigh and force yourself to give him a smile and a thumbs up. "Okay."

"Oh, are you going to keep this on?" he asks, rubbing his thumb over the silky collar around your neck. His eyes drag across the faint glimmer of skin hidden underneath before darting to Jungkook as if to say 'you had one job.' Jungkook catches eyes with him and sheepishly rubs the back of his neck with a pout.

"I don't know..." you trail, trying to find the right words to convey your feelings. "I just... don't feel very confident, I guess."

Hoseok dabs your lip with his pinky for good measure. "That's okay. That's why Jimin is here. He's going to help you warm up a little. Maybe you'll want to take it off after you get comfortable?" He smacks his lips a few times, indicating you need to rub your lips together to make the color even.

You do as he asks, feeling a little foolish as you share a shy smile with the blonde man nearby. There are certainly other ways Jimin could help you warm up; it was still pretty hard to face him after bailing last Saturday though. You do your best to push the thoughts from your mind and turn your attention to the doorway where Namjoon is standing, arms crossed with a sly smile decorating his features.

"What are you just gonna watch the whole time?" you call out, feeling uncertain about his cheeky grin. Suddenly you remember not too long ago he watched your tits come toppling out of your bathing suit and you fall silent, focusing on the legs of the tripod.

He licks his lips and takes a few steps forward with a sharp raise of his brow. "You texted me, remember? So now that you don't need me for anything," he pauses as he takes a folded chair from the wall nearby and sets it down a short distance behind the camera, "I think I'm gonna make it worth my while and see how this plays out. If you don't mind, Tae?"

Taehyung's eyes flicker between the both of you. "I don't have a problem with that. Having you here might be more relaxing, don't you think?"

You resist the urge to bite on your bottom lip. Relaxing. Right. Hoseok moves to quickly change the backdrop behind you; the image is that of an ocean, calm, peaceful, and absolutely gorgeous. You squint as Jungkook begins to blind you with the reflector.

"Okay. It's a summer day, very hot, but not as hot as you," Tae says, quirking an eyebrow up at you from behind the camera. "Compete with the sun for me."

What.

You swallow, staring into the camera like a deer caught in headlights, your body stiff as a board. The shutter sounds off only once before he shakes his head very lightly, a laugh escaping his lips. Namjoon brings a hand to cover his mouth as he manspreads and leans back.

"Ah, Jimin. Look at Jimin," Tae instructs, pointing to the blonde man close enough to touch, but far enough to keep out of frame.

Jimin sighs dramatically and cranes his neck towards the ceiling, looking up and blinking a few times. He angles off his body just enough to create a flattering view, balancing his casual stance with relaxed, broad shoulders. Oh right, he's a professional. You try to copy his stance, and do so perfectly, but you forget what you're supposed to do with your face. You steal a look back at him, almost immediately falling victim to his angelic features.

Your heart aches when you think about the way you left things last weekend. He seems unbothered but you wonder how; Joon had explained that he was used to keeping things casual, but you sure as hell weren't and that's why you needed to keep that sort of thing off limits. Saturday night was a big faux pas and you couldn't feel more ashamed about it if you tried. Yet somehow you head still found a way to be smitten.

The shutter clicks again and you look over at Jimin, who is already modifying his pose. You continue mimicking him for some time, slowly increasing pace every time the shutter clicks. It starts to come more naturally and you feel yourself opening up. Jimin drops his outer shirt down, revealing a bit of his shoulder and without thinking you do the same, exposing the bathing suit underneath. You look over at Jimin, feeling slightly embarrassed at the display, but he just laughs and drops the fabric from his other shoulder. You continue to mirror his actions until you finally slip the shirt off completely and toss it Namjoon's way, covering his face briefly before he pulls it down while sporting a coy smirk.

An hour passes as you continue on with Jungkook coordinating your outfits, Jimin helping you pose, and Hoseok creating ambiance while Taehyung does all the shot calling with his camera. Namjoon is your cheerleader, offering words of encouragement with each new scene. Honestly the weirdest thing about the night is that it starts progressing smoothly and you almost feel comfortable in front of the lens now. That is, until you’re standing in the dress Hoseok pulled from your closet.

They’ve turned most of the lights off to create a candlelight effect. The warm glow of the remaining lamps barely kisses your skin and you’re thankful for the loss in heat, as well as the cover of darkness. Whatever confidence you’ve built up quickly diminishes as you catch Namjoon’s expression off to the side. His jaw is tight, screwing into a lopsided grimace; it’s hard to read the rest of his face in this light, but it certainly looks like a cross between sympathy and disgust. It could just be your brain filling in the gaps with nonsense, but you hug your elbows close to your chest and shrink back, finding a spot on the floor to stare at while the rest of them continue to tweak the scene.

This is for sure the most beautiful he’s ever seen you; there’s no way you could look more breathtaking, yet there’s something hidden just beneath the surface of your beauty. Namjoon swallows hard, watching your hesitant movements. You’re uncomfortable; it’s hard to miss the uncertainty of your posture, the shaky exhales, trembling fingers, subtle quiver of your lip.

Okay, so maybe he searches for these things, but reading your body language has become a pastime. He’s not sure if it’s more for your benefit or his own masochistic torture --reading into every little detail to assure himself there’s no way you can feel the way he does-- but either way he can’t seem to stop himself from doing it.

He’s thinking of ways to assuage the anxiety, but a heavy fog blurs the possibilities. The words become scrambled on their way to his lips as he looks you over again, and again, and again. Desire clouds his mind, moving in like a storm to coat every last thought with obscenities. His cock twitches against his thigh, already rock hard and aching to be touched. He stares blankly ahead as he crosses his legs and hunches forward onto an elbow, trying to will away the tent in his pants by silently reciting the alphabet.

He’s absolutely disgusted with himself for being so lewd when clearly you’re in need of some support and he clenches his jaw in frustration. There’s no way he can stand right now without drawing attention to it, so the best thing he can do is try to compose himself and keep it that way. As he nears the end of the alphabet, he finally notices the way your gaze is cast at the floor and feels the need to say something, anything.

“Geeksquad.”

Your head snaps up to find Namjoon’s eyes locked onto your face, hard expression softening. “You look amazing. Try to breathe, okay? You’re doing fine.”

Your face brightens as you crack a smile, grateful for the reassurance. “Yeah… Yeah, okay, Joonie.”

He smiles back, dimples forming in his cheeks as he folds his hands over his lap. You fail to realize he’s equally happy about the lighting conditions in this moment.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The makeup is being stingy about coming off. You’ve been scrubbing remnants of eyeshadow and mascara off your eyelids for the better part of five minutes. A toothbrush lazily hangs from your mouth as you toss the makeup-caked pad in the trash bin. As you resume brushing your teeth, you pick up your phone with your free hand and begin texting.

You: hey… so

You: i may have overreacted earlier when i asked u to save me 🤔

You: but you still came through for me and i do appreciate it

When no response comes, you decide to come out and say what’s on your mind. You’d like to cut through any residual awkwardness left over from the nip slip incident because god knows it’s all that’s been on your mind since donning your regular clothes. As long as you can both pretend like nothing happened, you’re good.

You: i guess what i’m trying to say is thanks

You: it was nice that you made an attempt

You’re concerned about the amount of time that passes in silence as you finish up. You watched Hoseok drop him off at his apartment before returning home yourselves, so you know he got there safely. It’s only nine thirty. You doubt he’s asleep so you’re about to call, but you reconsider once you remember he’s had a lot of papers to grade this week and could be catching up on extra sleep. Or he’s avoiding you.

Your belly twists with the turmoil suffocating your brain. Do you just send something asking him if things are okay between you? It’s really awkward, but you can’t stop thinking about the fact that you accidentally flashed him. He’s probably avoiding you. Well fuck it.

You: are u avoiding me Namjoonie????

You: pls don’t :c

You sigh, falling back into bed as you open Tinder. What’s on the swipeLeft radar for tonight? A blue star appears, telling you this person “super-liked” you; he’s an average looking guy, but once sentence into the profile tells you all you’d need to know about his shitty personality. Douche.

You swipe left on a few more guys either holding fish, didn’t fill out their profile, or only have pictures of their current vacation destinations. There’s so much trash to sift through; it’s disheartening. Maybe Hoseok’s plan really will work and you’ll have guys eating out of the palm of your hand in no time. Maybe even eating you out. You’d have to find a viable candidate first, either way.

Your phone starts buzzing, familiar cross-eyed photo of Namjoon taking up your screen. Quickly swiping the green button, you answer, “Hello?”

“Geeksquad… Why you being paranoid?” Ragged breaths seep through his words just enough to pique your interest.

“Are you okay?” you ask, not entirely meaning to deflect, but still grateful for the opportunity to do so. “You sound a little out of breath.”

“Oh,” he sighs loudly, trying his best to reduce the sound of any following exhales. “Sorry I’m… just uh, working out.”

“You,” you begin in an accusatory tone. “...Working out?”

“It’s a great stress reliever,” he points out defensively. “Anyway, I’m just calling so you won’t worry yourself to sleep.”

“Wow. What? Pshh. I wasn’t worried, like, at all, dude.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah…” you answer, hearing the insincerity in your own tone. “I was just making sure you weren’t too mad about the false alarm.”

He chuckles. “Look, I’ll say it now and any time you need me to repeat it: I’m always gonna be there for you when I can. I wasn’t doing anything important tonight anyway and the uber ride was hella cheap from my place to Tae’s. Plus… I got to see you model next to Jimin, which was hilarious by the way.”

“Har. Har. Har. I got completely blindsided by Hobi and Tae. Super hilarious. Especially considering I haven’t spoken to Jimin really since Saturday. You know. When I made him think we were gonna hook up and then just peaced out. Like a bitch.”

“He’s not going to hold it against you. You know that.”

“Yeah.” You hum a sound of discontent as you fix your gaze on the ceiling. “Hey Joonie? Do you think those photos are going to look okay?”

“I think Tae can pull out some decent ones. He has an eye for that kinda thing. Once you started smiling for real and let go of that fake shit, I think those were the money shots.”

You can’t help but smirk at his words. “Good. I’m anxious about it still, but I feel slightly better.”

“Glad to help. Is there anything else?”

“Um….” You bite your lip, tasting the remnants lip balm. “W-We’re good right? I mean...about that whole thing with Kookie in the hall.”

Namjoon clicks his tongue against the receiver. “Ah, I hadn’t even thought about it all that much. But I suppose we need to address it.”

“Do you think you can pretend like it didn’t happen?”

“Like what didn’t happen?” he asks lightheartedly.

You fail to catch on and you grind your teeth together before hissing, “The nip slip!”

He fumbles with his words on the other line. “I-uh,Ah, yeah-Hmm. I know. I was, uh… making a joke Y/N.”

“Oh.” You breathe a sigh of relief, while filling with embarrassment. You force the words out of your mouth at torpedo speed “Well... I think that’s all we need to talk about. I need to go to bed. Thanks, Namjoonie. You have a good night.”

“You... too.”

“And remember to forget!” You want to die as the words pass your lips.

You wish the mattress would swallow you as your head falls against the pillows.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As you hang up, Namjoon sits back against his chair and stares down at the exposed swollen head of his cock, already dripping with precum and ready to continue where he left off.

“No worries… Hadn’t even thought about it at all.”

#bts #bts fic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts scenario #fic: love bytes #love bytes #bts au #series: love bytes #love bytes 04 #ot7 fanfic #bts fanfic #bts smut #namjoon x you #namjoon angst

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kurtty-drabbles · 4 years

Text

Switch au

N/A: This idea comes to me thanks to some fanarts and some talks. What am I doing? Honestly, no idea. But I´m doing something. BTW, this is a mix of Ultimate and 616. A new au here.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @djinmer4 @bamfoftheundead @muninandhugin

Her skin is wet, completely so. Her cold sweat covers all spots of her body. Boisterous sounds assault her ear-her eyes see unfocused and dubious figures coming near her form- as the voices, sounds are still enigmatic to her form. Suddenly, a loud honk forces her eyes to locate a big van and a man - if her eyes have the strength to see something so bleary- and her eyes saw the crimson circle and can only reply. "w-what?" with such feeble tone cementing the fact the others sure must haven´t heard.

"Call HER now. We found" she can hear someone giving orders. Someone familiar. And she sees a form of a blonde woman-oh, she can see the logo of quartet fantastic. Is Sue Storm- near the circle and muttering something. She can´t hear well.

"Don´t worry....you´re safe...Kitty" is all she managed to get before she closes her eyes again.

________________________________________________________________________________________

(2 hours before)

One Kitty Pryde is forming a circle in what used to be Dr. Stranger´s old apartment- the man moved out years ago and never look back- and aggressive fixing the symbols in the view. And huffing in and out. She clenches her teeth for a moment and only speaks once the digital watch-the the only thing she brought with her- marked 00:00 and then finally speaks.

"I summon, the begin, not the end. I summon the harbinger of life. Venus, heed my call" Kitty repeats those words 3 times and waits impatiently - tapping her foot away from the circle to not mess out her work of art- until someone taps her shoulders.

"You know, I´m pretty easy to summon...no need to go so archaic" and there is Venus. The Herald. With her long fiery hair-metaphorically speaking now-her dress covering what it must but showing a lot of her skin and her smug expression. "So, little mortal, what you want?" she looks up and down to Kitty. "A new sense of fashion?"

Kitty ignored Venus. At least, this question. "No, I want to sue Zaorva for taking my face. She uses my face and does whatever she wants" and Venus does the only sensible thing.

She giggles. Flicks her forehead and then speaks. "You´re supposed to be smart...that is pretty much dumb" and Venus shakes her head amused. "You are out of luck...She-Hulk is solving a conflict between Pheonix and Galaticus...time is relative" Venus responds and shurgs off.

Kitty is not caring. "Then I want to talk with Zaorva." and Venus stops smiling. "You´re being dumb here...but" she lifts her hand as her once brown eyes change into something azzure. "what you know, Zaorva is also amused...ok, little mortal..." and summoning somewhat ancient staff- mind you, out of thin air- Venus pushes Kitty to the circle without any struggle.

And Kitty is down on the rabbit hole, so to speak.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

The beginning is never static. The Neverending is in constant change if you look closely. Nothing remains the same. And Kitty has no mind- a dangerous thing to admit concerning an Outer God and you- to admire the beauty of Neverending. Kitty has no mind to do anything but survive and talk with Zaorva.

The sky is in a greenish shade-one that seems familiar to Kitty and at the same time is completely new- as she´s holding to her dear life on something - something soft and squeeze. And her eyes land on an azzure tentacle. The origin and no end.

"What?"

And a booming voice responds. Amused. In higher spirits and all its attention goes direct to Kitty. "You were wanting to talk with me, right...here I´m, Kitty Pryde. Oh, right..." and the voice stops and Kitty looks to a version of herself- donning with something blue. Not sure if is a dress or a robe, and at the moment, it doesn´t matter- as a face similar to hers is speaking now. "Hello, Kitty. You want to sue me?" and she treats as is a joke.

(It isn´t? Humanity is a fun joke for some Outer Gods. Humanity is a great way to kill time for others)

Kitty let go of the tentacle-better not try to understand how Zaorva is- and summons her courage again. "Why you bless that union?" and Zaorva didn´t respond and Kitty continues. "Peter Parker was taken ...by that thing...why?"

And now Zaorva answers putting a finger-Kitty´s finger. And there´re some implications here that she chooses to ignore- making a silent gesture to Kitty. Kitty/Zaorva will explain. "Peter Parker falls in love with the Felicia Hardy of my dimension. If you think this love was caused because of her tits..." Zaorva never breaks eye contact. "you´re wrong! Now...let me answer some of your questions that height in your soul"

Kitty wonders if she can even speak against. Even if she truly wanted. Could she do it?

"Felicia Hardy of the dimension where I live is not human as you noticed but rather the void" Kitty looks even more frightening. "The void has plans to Spiderman...He´s not being forced to be with this version of Felicia nor will be hurt, again, he has plans for this version of Spiderman"

And she continues. "Spiderman of your dimension jump the interdimensional portal on his own free will. No void, no Felicia tempted him to do so...only his desire to escape the mess of this dimension"

And to conclude. "And why I use your face? Because of Katherine Anne Pryde...I was you a long time ago. I can be a bit nostalgic" and a cute smile plays on Zaorva´s face. "And if you want to sue me" she is obviously mocking now. "She-Hulk is dealing with a big problem with Pheonix and Galaticus"

Kitty gulps unsure of her next step. A tentacle shows up. Several.

"Not so fast, little mortal, while I´m amused you wanted to sue me...would be another one to my criminal file" Kitty makes a wtf expression even if she´s still aware of the tentacles. " you did something really dumb and I´m a bit disappointed as well...so, I´ll punish you"

Her eyes change to a crystal tone of blue. She´s smiling in such a serene way. "You´re bold, as you´re judgemental, brash and always look down on magic users...well, that´s a bit hypocrite of you, isn´t it?"

And her view is just darkness.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

And Kitty opens her eyes in a blink. So fast and registering how the ceiling facing her is not the one she is used to. This is not the X-men´s mansion. Not the old apartment of Dr. Strange and not a hospital. Where is she?

"Ah, you wake up!" a voice carries from above. She shivers thinking is Zaorva again- her voice is different from the last time- and her eyes land to the right to see a woman -donned from heads to toes with crimson- hovering in the air in a lotus position.

"Who are you and where am I?" Kitty replies taking a grip on her situation. The woman´s age seems lost to Kitty- either she has 1000 years, which wouldn´t be the first time Kitty meet an immortal, or she has a normal age- opens her eyes and slowly comes down to the ground.

"I´m the Sorceress Supreme of this dimension. Still Scarlet Witch, I fought tooth and nails to keep my title to let go so easily and my name is Wanda Maximoff. You´re Kitty Pryde" Wanda answers for Kitty as she didn´t know who she is. "and you´re in Salem, my house now"

Kitty sits on the now identified as the couch and looks around. There´s nothing suspicious on as far her eyes- tired as they are- can register. "What happened?"

Wanda clap her hands and took a deep breath. "Lots of things happen in the 2 days you were in a comma. Oh, I´ll come there. First off, Jean Grey, the woman who was sleeping with Wolverine behind Scott´s back and then sleeping with Scott behind ...did many bad things earning the wrath of Pheonix...the Firebird would have burned all the X-men, however, Jean in a moment of clarity decides to sacrifice herself in exchange to all X-men´s safety. Pheonix agrees!" and Wanda looks at Kitty´s face.

Kitty and Jean aren´t that much friendly towards each other, in fact, quite the opposite...but, knowing Jean sacrifice herself to save others is something Kitty isn´t ready.

"Then, Logan didn´t take this well and jump into a Vulcan. Yes, that happened. Prof X´s lies are exposed and people start to side with the mutants in the social media" Wanda frowns at that. "sure, when I took the mantle people to side with my people too...but that didn´t lead the Romani people to live well, not all of them"

"Oh...anything else?" Kitty asked and Wanda nods.

"Spiderman renounces his residence in this dimension and is living in a new dimension with Felicia Hardy" Kitty inhales loudly and didn´t say anything. Wanda carries on. "The Avengers as well X-men will never be friends, but, once Tony Stark is out of the picture...again, they won´t be friends" and now she lowers her head and exhales. "Magneto was killed in the most ironic way...a Jewish community of New York killed him as Magneto was ready to murder everyone, mutants, and humans for his view"

Kitty opens her mouth and closes. "I´m sorry"

Wanda didn´t say much about this part. "The Quartet fantastic located and killed Madame Hydra and Red Skull on the same day"

"And then...come to you. You´re either the dumbest or bravest soul I ever meet. You managed to get an audience with the Mother of all magic. What you two talk I don´t know and if you don´t wish to say is alright...but, you must know...." Wanda now narrows her eyes sitting in front of Kitty and level her eyes to the young woman. "what you truly think of magic?"

"I ...never liked"

"Well, congratulations, Kitty...Zaorva loves ironic punishment and now you´ve magic powers" and as Kitty lifts her hands Wanda adds. "You can wrap reality just like me"

Kitty shivers and tries to deny, but, as her hands glow a pinkish light. Kitty knew in her heart, without a doubt, what truly happened. "And what I do?"

"You have options, Kitty. You can go away and return to the X-men" Wanda doesn´t hide her disappointment with the X-men-was an Avenger thing or something else?- "and figure out the magic on your own...is your choice. Or, you can be here and I can teach you how to use safely without hurting anyone or yourself"

And Kitty adds. "I must choose now?"

"No, you have options and time, something I never had...and more importantly, if you want to talk...I´m here ´cause I know and did some pretty dumb things in my youth...you´re not on even top 10"

And Kitty takes a decision. The X-men have an open vacancy and Nightcrawler wonders what happened to Kitty to give up on the X-men- is how he sees it- to go to a magic academy. "Something fishy...and I don´t trust Scarlet Witch nor any Sorcerer Supreme"

#Switch au #dumb au.#based on a prompt #kitty pryde #wanda maximoff #Wanda is a good teacher #she thinks Kitty is a bit dumb to do what she did #and yeah Kitty did dumb things in canon #no bashing here #Zaorva is a troll #Kurt doesn´t trust mages

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dkettchen · 5 years

Text

BLACK MIRROR S5E1 “STRIKING VIPERS” E X P L A I N E D

-with the help of gender and game theory-

Y’all asked for it so here we go

Some things before we start: -If you were watching the episode looking for gay/trans shit, and got disappointed, I’m sorry but I can’t help you because that’s just not what the episode was about and that is ok. It explored some aspects of queer experience, and the limbo between queer and cis-straight experience, that isn’t usually addressed in such an honest and indepth way, which I think is just as important as trans or gay rep. -I will focus my analysis on the core theme of what certain academics writing about androgyny call the “moment of transgression” so in this case the question of ‘what is Karl/Roxette’s deal & what does that mean for Danny/Lance’s feelings toward and interactions with them?’. -CW: transphobia, homophobia, toxic masculinity, (rpg) uncanny valley stuff, you get it, you know what subjects we’ll be talking about here.

Now!

I’d like to start by pointing out the title “Striking Vipers” to get the phallus talk out of the way right off the bat x’D: It’s a very blatant penis metaphor, and Vipers specifically are venomous, so represent toxic masculinity. The image of them striking signals danger. The repetition of phallic symbols represents the threat of castration (see medusa turning them bois to stone & the heroic masculinity of the mirror shielded boi who managed to defeat her), which to phallocentric masculinity is the scawiest thing there is (losing the phallus = losing manhood = death?? I guess??). Striking Vipers means that toxic masculinity, by nature, is a threat to itself. (I could talk for hours about the exact warped logic of phallocentricity but Imma spare y’all cause I don’t think it’s relevant for this, I’d even go as far as saying this episode was anti-phallic (which I use here as a more inclusive word for “feminist”, as the episode’s core is about two guys, but still focused on them experiencing and embracing feminine power and freeing themselves from phallocentricity(/patriarchy)’s grasp, just like “what men want” was preoccupied with the toxic masculinity of its female protagonist)) That sets up the kind of horror the episode will be about, the male fear of castration, of loss of identity, of having to face the fact that traditional masculinity is toxic even to the people who conform to it. 10/10 title choice.

Next up: the core question of what label to put on Karl and Danny’s VR interactions (‘Fellas, is it gay to fuck ur best friend in a lady body in VR?’). Which leads to the first question which is: what gender is Karl when he’s playing as Roxette? An essentialist might say: ‘Well he’s a man irl so he’s still a man even if he plays with a female avatar. Danny’s attraction to him is either him being trapped or just plain old gay.’ But I don’t think that’s the case. It’s not a trap scenario (have some videos on traps and how they’re not real actually: (x.), (x.)), because both people involved know the exact parameters of the situation. Danny knows this is Karl in Roxette’s body, there’s nothing hidden, no misunderstanding to be had here. I also don’t think it’s gay because if it was this would’ve happened irl or with two male avatars, but it only happened once one of them was in a female avatar, that was the change that made it happen. It’s not a fetishising phallic/trans women scenario either, because it’s the opposite, it’s a man’s mind in a woman’s body. There’s no doubt about Karl being a man irl, a queer man sure, but definetely a man. He’s just too into -womanhood while playing her for me to say he’s still male when he’s in that form, like Karl as Roxette isn’t a trans guy as a man’s mind in a female body usually would be (like f.e. Ranma 1/2), I also don’t think Karl as Roxette is an androgyne/non-binary/third term either, because again, he’s embracing her womanhood and the role that comes with it, to the extreme that is hetero PiV sex, too much. I’d argue what we see is the closest to the liberation and euphoria described by other queer men when doing drag, she’s just a more extreme version of drag, of crossplaying, making the fantasy real, wearing not only the clothes of a woman but the body too. Roxette as Karl’s avatar is an alter ego, who is female, so -on the risk of sounding like the biggest performativist since Judith Butler- Karl as Roxette presents as female, so, for all intents and purposes, is female in that moment, regardless of his irl persona maintaining his male gender outside of that.

But that wasn’t what we wanted to know, was it. Because even if, in the moment that Karl plays Roxette, we can say that person is female, that doesn’t eliminate the fact that Karl, outside of that, isn’t and that he’s still the one playing her. It’s the notion of how the player/actor/performer and avatar/character/persona aren’t the same thing and can have different relationships with someone in real life vs in the game, and how that can be confusing to think about because there is no clear line between the two, something that is called “bleed” in ludology(/game studies, from lat. ludus: game or school; referring to the gladiator schools in like the colosseum), despite their relationships being fundamentally different (in this case friendship irl vs passionate love in game). Take TAZ as an example: The McElroys are related, but in playing a trpg, the DM, usually Griffin, takes up the mantle of all NPCs in the game world, including love interests. Griffin played Julia, Kravitz, and Danny (different Danny lol), but he’s talking to his brother, except he isn’t, is he, cause it’s not Griffin talking and it’s not his brother responding, it’s two characters interacting. A similar uncanny valley can be found in actor/character bleed: Take Ludi and Pom (the actors for Lance and Roxette) in this one: like 80% of their screentime was spent making out or having fake sex. These actors aren’t dating (as far as I’m aware lol), this is their job, to fake love each other on screen, imagine having to do that with a coworker you feel nothing for. It’s the characters that feel something and you have to play that feeling (which is so meta at that point, they’re playing characters that are avatars being played by characters in the show). Also, talking of role-playing, can we appreciate the scene of Danny & Theo at the bar where they’re role-playing and she’s like that was hot and he’s like mental note bae’s into role-playing, because DAMN that foreshadowing of the erotic potential of roleplay as a concept.

But it’s not role-playing really either with Danny and Karl, is it? They’re playing in avatars other than themselves but they’re not fully a different person. They still very much feel the same just in a different form. Their emotions are real even though they might only apply to part of their experience, the in-game part. Yet they obviously take them seriously and personal and get influenced by them outside the game. Maybe the question is what is and is not role-playing? Where does the bleed start and end, and do we even need to know the answer to those questions? They answer those questions for themselves in the end by testing out their feelings irl to see if they track or not, fully ready for both possibilities (which 10/10 character development love it). They want clarity. It’s about the emotional limbo fantasy brings with it. It’s the same question “Are traps gay” is about. (Not the “Is it ok to feel attracted to androgynous ppl” one necessarily, but) “Does feeling attracted to the fantasy mean you feel attracted to the “real” thing underneath?” Are the feelings for the fantasy alone or also for the reality? Are they only applicable to the latter and does that change something about what you thought you knew about yourself? It’s a question about the fringe edges of limited/monosexuality and the very fabric of reality.

Let’s return to Karl to look at his experience as Roxette. We’ve established that she is female, but what is Karl while playing her? In the spirit of queer drag as liberating, it’s almost like he’s taking a break from being Karl when playing as her. Drag, crossplay, or this extreme version of it, functions as a break from the toxicity and limitations of traditional gender roles (so in this case traditional masculinity). It is freeing, though what does it free? Some genderless spirit inhabiting each person? But then how do you explain the firm gender identity lots of people, including for all we know Karl, experience in everyday life? As a trans person I know that there is SOMETHING to gender on some level that can create gender dysphoria (social and/or physical) for people when put in a body they don’t identify with. As a drag performer, trpg enthousiast, and notorious crossplayer, I know that taking a break from that reality and being somebody else can be relieving, a break from your own problems. So what is that part of us that translates into fantasy? I feel like this goes into transhumanist territory which I don’t know enough about to even attempt to provide an answer. I think what it comes down to in terms of gender theory is, this is a situation at the height of where performativism is true and relevant. There is a relativity to the nature of reality and gender itself. Whatever base essence there is that causes gender dysphoria at a mismatch between outside and inside, doesn’t apply here. Both notions (of essential and performative gender) are real and have an impact on people but neither is always the case and neither is never the case. They’re not mutually exclusive.

So, seeing as it seems impossible to pinpoint what gender Karl/Roxette qualifies as (other than all and/or none), let’s look at the nature of Danny/Lance and Karl/Roxette’s interactions and feelings toward those interactions and each other to try and contextualise what label(s) they might fit under. The desire on Danny’s side when faced with Roxette’s form shows itself in a way he’d never feel toward Karl. That visual change, and the social changes it brings with it (in gender role), makes it so extreme, because it pairs the parts of his friend he appreciates and enjoys (personality and whatever deeper connection a close friendship brings with it), with a form that is attractive to him. That change translates to Karl too. In playing with this new form that has a different role and a different effect on someone he’s known for so long, he flows into that, melts into this new persona and lives it up! The way they interact in game isn’t gay. It is very much reflecting how straight attraction and female sexuality works. On one hand it’s based in undeniable difference (hetero = different), and on the other hand Karl/Roxette’s enjoyment thereof is based in being desirable, in having that power of seduction just by existing, that notion of feminine power and the freedom that comes with it. It’s not autogynephilia, that would imply he gets off on the idea of himself as a woman, which is not the case, he gets off on being desired as a woman, which is what female sexuality is about (source: ContraPoints’ Autogynephilia video (which I recommend, it’s very good))

Still whenever Karl tries to get Danny to keep having VR sex with him/Roxette, he talks about her in 3rd person, like a persona. In saying “it’s just like porn” he poses something that is very much a different activity (acting out the porn by -doin’ it-) as a homosocially (social as opposed to sexual/romantic) acceptable one (watching porn together which I’ve been told is a thing). He attempts to differentiate himself from his female persona and enjoyment there-of (by objectifying her, like a porn actress to be watched rather than identified with), himself and Danny from the queerness (in enjoying femininity and in Danny being down with basically fucking a drag-queen) and to retreat back into heteronormative traditional masculinity, away from the scawy unknown of exploring your sexuality. His internalised homo- and transphobia makes him suppose that Danny, as a supposed straight guy, will only respond to the safety of assured non-queerness, which, honestly, I don’t think is the case with him. Karl supposes his cancelling on him and not wanting to do it anymore is out of the fear for his sexual identity or whatever, but from what I can tell, while Danny also seems to be rather confused about what it all means, the reasons he cancels their nightly sessions, and rejects Karl/Roxette, are always about not wanting his marriage to fall apart. He quite clearly prefers hot VR sex to hanging out with his wife, and cancels out of duty to her rather than fear. Even the first time they kiss, Karl is the one to freak out first. Danny seems much calmer about the attraction part of the situation, to the point of in the end being the one to take initiative and make them try it out irl to put an end to the confusion.

The episode hits hard because it takes the way men play video games and brings it to its logical conclusion. Video games are mens safe-space, and they do play with that playful flirty banter. The show takes that and makes it real, including taking it to its extreme conclusion that is -doin’ it-. It infiltrates the male safe space by taking normalised behaviour, and taking it so far that it puts traditional masculinity and heteronormative attraction in question, the very thing the safe space was supposed to protect them from. That’s why it’s existentially horrifying for the main characters (and viewers that identify with them) and qualifies as a black mirror episode even without having a homo-/trans-/biphobic ending (like other media that put traditional masculinity in question usually do, not to mention all the horror based in queer-coding)

Hope y’all enjoyed this journey into a bit of mind-bending game and gender theory! Pls don’t expect me to do this like ever again bc I need to go work on my actual essay rip x’D

#long post #Black Mirror #BM: Striking Vipers #games studies #gender studies

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elejah-wonderland · 5 years

Text

The Sun and The Moon Curse/2

Fanfiction

Part 2 - Hold down Hell now

Elijah Mikaelson x Elena Gilbert

AU TVD story

Set after tvd 3x15

Summary: Elijah asks Elena at the MIkaelson Ball to tell him what Esther wanted from her. Will Elena tell him, and what will happen after she does it.

Thanks so much for reading this one. It was my first tvd Elejah story. xoxo

P.S. Part 2 already, while you wait for me to write the Epilogue for Always.

😺😘

tags @rissyrapp20 @dendrite-lover @cassienoble2000 @captainshurley @goddessofthunder112 @idkhaylijah @hides2000

______

Since there was no time to waste Elijah had made all necessary arrangements for Elena and him to leave Mystic Falls that same evening.

He listened to Rebekah and Kol's bickering, and Klaus coming between them. He loved them very much, and would never wish any real harm fall upon them, but he also knew that they would not stay together in one house for a long time.

He thought of Klaus and his desire to control everything. He knew that would never give up on keeping things his way. Elijah sighed as he thought of the oath they pledged to one another so many centuries ago, and it seemed all well and good, but when it came to sticking to it, somehow it felt it didn't seem to hold any weight, as he had already found that Finn had no problem to turn his back on it. It was a moment of honesty and clarity. This was a family that will always have a dark cloud hanging over them, as they were volatile beings. He understood Esther's motive to rid the world of them, this abomination that she put on this Earth. But as all the creatures under this sun, supernatural or otherwise, he wanted to live.

His thoughts swayed now to Elena. He felt for her. Her life was not her own. She was a magical being as well. And she yet had to learn what it is like to be one. Though he had listened to her heart and it had talked to him, still she was a puzzle.

She saved him. But why? What was her real motivation? Everything Klaus put her through made clear why she wanted rid of him. He could not blame her for that. He knew his brother all too well. His dark heart had only one aim. He was determined not to let him follow through with his intent to build an army of hybrids.

Now he sat down at the desk and wrote several letters out. Then he looked at the clock. It was nearly time to meet Esther in the woods. His phone buzzed and he saw a from Bonnie, notifying him that she was ready.

___

On the other side of town, Elena was packing. She looked around her room to see if there was something she had forgot. She would lie if she said that all this was not a precipitate decision. She was putting her life into the hands of this vampire once again. Is this a goodbye from her life in Mystic Falls? Strangely her heart said it was so.

Sighing she now looked at the clock and then her phone. She switched the light off and went out of her room. As got to the hall there was a knock on the door. She opened it. Elijah's confidante politely said that he was there to take her to the nearest local airport. Elena nodded a little. The man picked her bag up, she put her coat on. She locked the doors of her family house and stood for a second looking at the door and the porch. Then, out of nowhere, Stefan appeared, surprised to see her with a backpack and a strange man waiting for her at the SUV.

"What is going on, Elena? Where are you going?"- the vampire asked.

"I’ve decided to visit Jeremy. I need a break, away from all this."- she said and surprised herself how cool she was lying to him.

"Tonight?! I guess, you are not the one who is willing to stay and cheer that finally you will be rid of Klaus and his family,"-

"I just need time to myself. After everything that happened last night." -

"This is because of Damon, right? I guess this is a small town. It's Damon - he lashes out, and Rebekah took advantage of his weakness."

"Rebekah and Damon?!"- Elena said and smirked- " I should have known"- it actually wasn't a surprise to hear that he would do something like that."

"Ah- oh- sorry, you didn't know-"- Stefan then realized that he put a foot in his mouth.

"It's fine, Stefan, it really is. Last night-"-Elena paused for a second -"a lot of things became so very clear to me, what my life is and what it will always be. I thought about everything- friends, family - you helped me a lot, and so did Damon, but I have to- ahm- go " - she nearly slipped that she was not going away to see Jeremy, but she knew that Stefan would not understand why she chose to tell Elijah all and stop the ritual. He was very clear about his feelings regarding Klaus, and if it meant he was to die, he would sacrifice himself. Her demeanor was unusual, but whatever she had decided, he promised he would respect her decisions. He then simply said-

"Have a good trip."

She nodded as in saying thanks - she walked over to the car and got into it. She dare not look back, as she was sure he would then suspect that there was some kind of foul play at hand. She muttered with a heavy-

"Goodbye Stefan".

*******

In the woods

Elijah looked at his phone, as Elena updated him that she had left the house. He was pleased that things ran according to plan. Then he received a message from Bonnie, who was at the cemetery.

She sat at her Grams’ grave preparing the necessary ritual for breaking the link, as Esther was ready to start the ritual, expecting Bonnie to comply. She looked up at the moon. It was time.

"I hope this works, cos if it doesn't, they will all be gone."- Bonnie muttered to herself as she started to whisper the words of a counter spell.

Elijah arrived at the designated place in the woods as the ritual was to take place. As he already suspected, Finn was with their mother. She waited in the center of the circle ready to start the ritual. He watched her, his heart beating fast. He was very much aware that Bonnie could fail miserably and that all of them would finally see the end as Esther had planned. But it wasn't to be that very night. Esther was beside herself, trying to recount what went wrong, as Elijah got out of the shadow of trees towards her and Finn.

"You see, Mother, I could not really believe that you would forgive Klaus so easily. And as for us becoming a united family again- it was too good to be true. Somehow, it is not in your nature to be trustworthy, and- you have almost succeeded in your plot, but, you forgot that, although very seldom, there is a person who has so much compassion for the other that she couldn't bring herself to carry the burden of killing someone in her heart- "

Finn wanted to charge at Elijah, but Esther stopped him.

"Elijah- "- she then said- "what did you do to that poor girl?"

"Nothing"- Elijah replied- " and unlike Klaus, now I will do nothing to you either, but I suggest you leave, as if he finds out what your had planned to do to your children, he would not be so gracious-"

"You think of yourself as this exalted being, claiming nobility, and yet, you are no better than your brother."

"I am very well aware of that - " and the Original wanted to utter the word 'mother' but he stopped for a second and emphasizing her name, said-"Esther- I know what I have done, and I do understand your wishto see us gone, as we have not made you or Mikael proud. Yes, you have created us, but you did not make us monsters, we did that to ourselves. And same as I am having to live with my deeds, so must you."

"I guess you will do what you have, same as I do."- Esther then said.

"I guess it is so, Esther!"

Esther then left with Finn.

Elijah sent a message to Elena confirming that the ritual failed.

She stood at the bridge with Matt as the message arrived and then quickly wrote a reply.

" It's time, ha?"- Matt said seeing Elena's expression as she got the message.

" Yes"- "Caroline will be furious, but - huh"- Elena uttered.

"She'll get over it, don't worry."- Matt said. - " I am not really happy that you are going with him ... but as you said- it feels like we are all stuck- and... you are not that girl you used to be, and I get that, and it's ok if you want to let all this here go- you are doing better than you think, "- he looked at her with love that forged a strange kind of friendship that one can count on forever.

"Right, I guess I will one day be able to tell a story- there was this girl that I knew, Elena Gilbert, an amazing friend "- he said trying to hide the sadness in his eyes.

Elena embraced Matt warmly interrupting him in the middle of the sentence.Then she just let go and got into the car. Same, as with Stefan, she did not look back, she looked through the window into the darkness.

Elijah also got into his car and drove off from the woods. He felt somewhat reborn, so much different, then when he was undaggered. His mind travelled to the moment when Elena walked into the Lockwood mansion, and wanted to know all about Klaus' curse, and then to the moment when she raised the champagne glass at the Ball, looking straight into his eyes, lying about her meeting with Esther.

Elena boarded the plane. It was not long after that Elijah arrived. As he entered the plane, it became so very real that all this was very much happening and that it wasn't a dream she would wake up from in the morning.

"Ready?"- the Original said as he sat down on the seat opposite her.

She nodded. The beep alert from her phone distracted her for a second. It was Bonnie wishing her all the best.

As the plane was taking off he could not help but listen to her heartbeat as it was restless, and it was very clear why this step she took will alter her life in more ways than she ever could have imagined.

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

At the Mikaelson Mansion, early in the morning Klaus was tending to his orchids when Rebekah came storming into the winter garden.

"Close the door sister dear"- Klaus hissed.

"Elijah left me a letter... what is this? What ritual is he talking about?"

"I got a letter too. Yes, Mother wanted to kill us all. Elijah made sure it didn't happen. But that is now the least of my worries."- he now turned to her still angry that she was disturbing him - "he took Elena with him, leaving me with only one dopplegaenger blood bag"

"This is all you care about?!"- Rebekah looked at him disappointed.

"Look"- he raised his voice, then calmed down immediately- " if you ever thought that we would play happy families, then you are sadly mistaken. I was here only for the dopplelganger, I waited so long to finally build my army, and trust me I will not stop, ironically, the girl, with her gracious heart saved us all, isn't love just a beautiful thing?!"

"What love?"

"I cannot fault them, Elijah knows how to charm them. The others were too selfish to give him the time of day, this one is the exact opposite. I made a deal with Elijah, blood bags for Elena's life and the lives of her friends, she did save our lives after all, and Elijah has managed to conjure it up, so I have sort of pardoned him for going against me, for now. But, about Mother, now, that is a different matter."

"How gracious of you, Nik!"- Rebekah sifted.

"You have your life, so do as you please. Stop bothering me."

"Or what? You will dagger me into sleep again?!"

"I just might do that!"

He exited the garden and left the blonde to ponder what to do next. It was obvious to all that any illusions that they could be a united family fell into water.

After hearing what Esther had done, Kol partly agreed to assist Klaus in finding Esther and Finn.It seemed the Mikaelson family would once again be scattered around the world, hiding their whereabouts.

Some of the town inhabitants were pleased they all had left. Bonnie wondered if a new era of peace would return, and if Mystic Falls could go on as it had done before. Caroline was angry for a little while for being kept out of the loop. Not before long she found a project that would occupy her interest. She was partly glad that Elena left, as now she could take centerstage in the school and she revelled in it.

Several days afterwards, Bonnie found Stefan at the Wickery bridge.

"What are you doing here?"- he wondered.

"Caroline told me you were here. Damon left?"

"Yes."- he confirmed.

"It's strange without her here"- Bonnie started referting to Elena - "it's like she had fallen in the river and-"

"A lot has happened. And it's not over for her yet, but, I think-"- he paused, his sadness overwhelming him -"but, I am glad she left with Elijah"

Bonnie was surprised to hear that. Stefan continued looking at Bonnie-" He can actually help her against Klaus"

"You are glad that she didn't fall for Damon"- Bonnie now voiced what Stefan was thinking.

"Yes. I loved her- but I don't think she was really in love with me, not really. She wanted me back, but it always sounded like she is doing it out of pity- like she owes me, I don't know, but the way she was preoccupied over Elijah"

"I know"- Bonnie said. They both knew she saved the Mikaelsons because of Elijah.

Stefan said his goodbyes and left Mystic Falls the same day.

___

A week later

Elena woke up and looked around the room. Mystic Falls it was not. No. Not her childhood bedroom, but the most exquisite of bedrooms, in one of Elijah's most favourite homes. Venice, Italy. Thought it had only been a week after they left Mystic Falls, but to Elena it seemed it had been months. After visiting Jeremy, to whom she explained all that was happening, and after one very emotional meeting they departed for Europe.

Elena was treated like a person of great importance. It amazed her the way Elijah managed everything smoothly and with such elegance. It seemed like Elijah had his own personal invisible army that worked for him. Now she could see first hand who Elijah actually was. Elijah's human side. Howhe fitted in the world. She was surprised to find out that, in actual fact, Elijah had many businesses. A whole new world was opening up to her about this ancient vampire.

Elijah enjoyed all the finer things of life in every aspect, so it was not unusual that he presented this Palazzo to her as their abode for the time being.

When they arrive, a housekeeper by the name Zusta met them, and showed Elena immediately her room. She prepared everything for her so she would be comfortable, nearly waiting on her hand and foot.

Elijah gave Elena space to settle, take time to herself, roam around the city's labyrinth of narrow streets, let herself be a tourist, and forget for a little while all that had happened to her in the last couple of years. It felt like she was cut out of the world. And it felt good. Finally, after a long while, she felt she was breathing again, she felt alive and in a strange way new.

But all the worries didn't die away, they were very much present. She was sitting next to the window of the Palazzo's salon overlooking the Grand Canal, as Elijah walked in to join her, greeting her warmly.

"This seems to be your favourite place."- he said and continued- " Zusta is preparing something to eat, I have asked her to serve it here, if that is fine with you?"

"Thank you"- Elena said standing up- " but I can eat in the kitchen, it's really not necessary to do all this."

"You are my guest, and I wish you are comfortable. I know this is very unusual for you, and maybe I should have taken you somewhere else." - Elijah said gesturing to her to sit down.

"This is very extravagant after M. Falls, but it's not Venice, or this house, it's everything. I am still processing."

He smiled a little. She now remembered their conversation in the Lockwood mansion. She smiled too.

"That seems to be the thing with me -so much, so soon -and I guess, I should be used to all of these changes."

"This was another life-changing decision you made, you are allowed some processing time, and if I may remark, you are doing rather well."

" It is like- when people had to face a war-like situation, something switches inside of you and I guess you grow up overnight- I can't explain it, but I had to take things in my hands. Still not sure what I am really doing- this is all so unreal, well, not more than finding out that vampires really exist, and that I am not an ordinary girl-you see, still processing- and Klaus is still receiving my blood-"

"I am sorry, Elena, for making a deal like that, but this deal is buying us time."- Elijah explained.

Zusta interrupted them arriving with the meal as Elijah had requested. He politely thanked his housekeeper and poured Elena and himself a glass of wine.

Elena was quiet for a moment, and he continued- " I did things I abhor- for Klaus, for the dream to keep the family together, balancing their misdeeds, many times, but you know that already. I trespassed against you and I regret it very much!".

The Original now looked at her seriously. She could hear the sincerity of the statement in his voice, his eyes mirroring how deeply the regret was embedded in him.

To break the awkwardness that arose, he then said-

"He is already looking for Esther and Finn. Leaving that aside, I have to stop him from building this army of hybrids, and in order to stop him we need an Original witch."

Elena appreciated that they deterred from the one personal second that had descended on them a moment earlier. She felt like his eyes probed into her, and she felt uneasy.Trying to focus on the topic, she said -

"Except for your mother. Where will we find another Original witch?"

"I have put the word out, but I have to be very careful, as Klaus must not suspect a thing, it's different than it was the case of finding the doppelganger- the same as I knew the Martin witches, I know others, and I am also pulling favours-" -"but let's not spoil this meal with talk of Klaus"-" the evening is too magnificent for it to be spoiled by that."

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

Esther and Finn made their way to the Hebrides, Scotland, to the place they inhabited so many centuries before they crossed over to the New World. She knew that Klaus would make it his mission to find them, she needed to time to rethink her actions, and partly to adapt to the contemporary world. There was nothing she could do without Elena's blood, and the only other person who was in possession of it was Klaus, and she knew he would guard it with his life. She thought of Elijah and how cleverly he had thought things through for his advantage, but most of all, she was surprised that he had seceded from Klaus. She soon sent Finn to look up two families that had a witch in their ancestry. Time could not be wasted. Although she was an original witch, her powers seemed to have been still quite low, and she needed reinforcements, same as Klaus and Elijah. But two other vampires were also very restless.

"What are you doing here, Katherine?"- a drunken Damon asked the vampire holding a bottle of bourbon.

"Wiping floors in every known vampire dive spells love trouble"-she said.

"Gloat as much as you want- I couldn't care less."

"But you do, Damon. Otherwise you would be sober and start thinking."

"What's there to think, you didn't answer my question- what are you doing here?"- he looked at her rather annoyed.

"I am bored, and since you are free from the Salvatore disease, can we play bad guys, and mess up Elena's great life?!"

"What great life are you talking about?"

"She is with Elijah or didn't you know- and if he cares for someone, and trust me, he does care about her, she will be treated as royalty..."

"And what does that have to do with me, if it is Elijah that you want now, go and get him yourself, oh, but he doesn't want you!- he wants the other doppelganger- wonder why! Anyway, she is a Petrova, she will play with him, same as she did with us, and for once I am glad I am rid of you two?!"

"So, when did that ever stop you from going after an Original....Even more so, as you undaggered him apparently!"

Although drunk, he charged at Katherine, who smirked at him, as she knew she hit the nerve.

"So, are you in?"- Katherine said with a very sly kind of a look.

He let go of her, and stood thinking for a moment. "What do you have in mind?"

"I have done some research, well, one compelled professor friend told me that he had a white-oak-dagger in his possession. Not just any white-oak-dagger- get it?"

Damon's blue eyes sparkled at mention of the dagger. He knew that Katherine was a very resourceful one, but this revelation threw him off.

"Are you in for a hunt then?!"- she asked seductively showing the dagger.

"Oh, yes!"- he said and grabbed her in a passionate kiss.

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

#Elijah Mikaelson #Elena Gilbert #Elejah #tvd fanfiction #Fanfiction #alternative universe

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 6 years

Text

Madness | Chpt. 5

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Thunder in the Rain”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7,968

Warnings: angst (I mean, when is it not angsty?), new character alert, also some kissing :*

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

A/N: Y’all are my favorite people in the universe. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying what I’m writing. Even if not every chapter is you cup of tea, it means a lot to see that people are leaving likes, messaging me, reblogging, etc. I love you all so much! Also, please note that I have taken and will be taking a lot of creative liberties pertaining to these characters. This will be shown in excess during the upcoming chapters, so I just wanted to give a bit of a warning.

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

As I walked away from him, a part of me hoped to hear some kind of regret in his voice or anything at all, even. Instead, I heard nothing. He was silent. Maybe I had to do what everyone had been telling me to do all along: let him go. In my heart, I knew what would have been best for me. I knew that I would have been safer and filled with less grief if I let him go and went to Midgard to be with the Avengers and her. I knew that she would undoubtedly fill the void in my heart that Loki left there, as she had been the one to fill it ever since he fell. Still, I felt responsible for him as well as the Nine Realms. I saw the damage he had done to the world we knew as our second home. His suit was black (the absence of light), gold (what had once been my favorite color), and green (his favorite color-the color of my eyes). He attacked the part of Midgard we had last been to together. It was a night of laughter and happiness for both of us and a memory that was now clouded with pain and darkness. He still used the daggers I had given to him before he left for a battle with Thor-a battle Thor talked the Allfather into keeping me out of, as I was still recovering from the last one.

A piece of me wondered if he had a reason. Maybe he truly didn’t care for me anymore, maybe he lied to me all those years, but for what? What did he have to gain from an orphan girl? He was a God, and I was just another Asgardian. There was nothing extraordinary about me. If he wanted to manipulate someone for so long, why wouldn’t he choose someone with more power? I had to believe that it was more than that. I had to believe that there was something else that I just wasn’t seeing clearly. He was still in there. The man I knew was still holding on and fighting back this new version of himself. I didn’t know what happened or what made him turn on me so quickly, but I had a few theories of my own. Perhaps he found out about my secret from Odin that day, but I still didn’t even know how Odin would know in the first place. Maybe he fell out of love with me quicker than I had ever anticipated he could. I didn’t understand, but it wasn’t for me to try to figure out in the middle of the night when I was still sick from the ale that evening.

I made my way up to the training grounds, casting the illusion just long enough to make it past the guards. Once my eyes were dried, I dropped the illusion, finally visible again. I lifted a dulled sword from the rack and walked over to one of the training dummies before taking out every ounce of anger, frustration, and pain on it. I didn’t need to build my skills with the sword anymore. However, I knew to practice regularly to stay nimble. Tonight, however, was simply to hit the dummy as hard as possible to make my muscles sore. I just wanted to make myself tired enough that I could fall asleep for the rest of my life, and if I couldn’t achieve that, I at least wanted to be tired enough that when I laid down in bed, I could fall asleep immediately. I didn’t want to think of his harsh words or the way he glared at me like it was my fault he fell in the first place. I didn’t want to think of the mistakes I had made or the grief I felt over the loss of a man who meant so much to me.

Listening to the loud crack as my sword hit the dummy over and over again helped drown out the sorrow in my heart and the voices in my head that were even more cruel than Loki could ever even hope to be. As I growled, I thought of every moment in my life that I felt anger, every moment I felt alone, every moment I felt weak. I thought of the night he told me he hated me, the fall, when I saw him on Midgard, when I left her, when Tony Stark shed a tear for me, when she cried. There were so many moments, but they all came rushing back as the wall I had built up to keep them away finally broke down and crumbled into nothing. Suddenly, I heard a loud crack and opened my eyes to see that my last swing of the sword had been too successful, as the blade lay broken on the ground.

“For a woman as peaceful as yourself, you sure like breaking swords when you’re angry,” Thor’s voice rang out from behind me.

I whipped around, surprised by his presence. I hadn’t heard him coming, and I certainly didn’t feel him because of my clouded thoughts. As soon as I looked at him, my mind quieted once more. He was a peaceful soul with eyes as deep as the oceans. He leaned against one of the pillars with his arms crossed over his chest. His robes cascaded over his broad shoulders, and he wore a slight grin upon his lips. I shook my head, dropping the handle of the sword, which would be of no more use, “I apologize if I woke you,” I murmured, attempting to walk past him. I was in no mood for speaking as my frustration had not been washed away completely.

He caught my arm before I could pass him, and as my chest continued to heave, he spoke, “you did not wake me, Lady Eva. I figured that after you visited Loki, you would come here,” he said, hinting at the fact that he already knew what I had been up to that night. My mouth gaped open as I searched for any possible explanation other than the one he proposed. Before I could lie, he continued, “my brother has been playing tricks on me since we were children. Do you not think I can tell? Plus, I’ve known you since we were children, and I knew you would go down to see him at some point,” he shrugged.

“I had to. You can be mad, you can tell the Allfather, you can do whatever you need to do, and I won’t be upset. All I ask is that you continue fighting for him the way I have,” I said, straightening my shoulders, “I will accept whatever punishment my King sees fit.”

“Your King will never know,” Thor replied in a hushed but stern voice, “I will not be speaking a word of this to my father. You did what needed to be done, something he doesn��t believe is worth the time or energy. You’ve looked out for my brother since we were kids, and I would’ve been ignorant to believe that you would just stop because of what happened on Midgard. You still see the good in him, and I admire that because I still love him just as much as you do,” he added, “how was he?”

I stepped back over to him, and he released my arm from his grasp. I motioned around the training grounds, “well, I’m out here, so it didn’t go as well as I had anticipated. He’s still hurting, and it continues to break my heart every time I see him. I can feel his pain just as I could before, but it’s amplified.I just don’t know if I can keep doing this to myself, Thor. I don’t know if I can keep trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. It would kill me to abandon him like this. His mind is chaos. He needs a moment of clarity, of peace, but...maybe I can’t give that to him,” I answered the best way I could.

“Who better to show him that moment of clarity than you?” he asked, gazing down at me with eyes that shined like the sun on my darkest day. While every other love I felt paled in comparison to that which I shared with Loki, Thor brought something else into my life, something more beautiful than life itself. He reminded me that life was not about power or status, it was about living. He had a love for all living things that matched my own, and I loved him all the more for it. Thor never pushed me away, “you have done so much for him, Eva. You may not think you’ve done enough, but you’ve done more than everyone else put together. You have sacrificed more than anyone else. All I know is that you need to take fate into your own hands sometimes. Maybe you find that you don’t want to wait for cooperation from Loki or the Allfather. All I know is that you have allowed others to control your destiny for too long, and it’s time for you to take your control back,” he added, “and if you need to talk or cry or scream, you know that I’m always here.”

My eyes filled up with tears, and I pushed them back, having cried more than enough over the situation. It felt like I couldn’t stop since the fall. It was that moment that I made the promise to myself: I would be weak no longer. I would weep over my situation no longer. I could mourn for the man Loki once was or give him no other option other than to accept my help. As my chest continued to heave due to the unchecked frustration, I grabbed the back of Thor’s neck and attacked his lips with my own. It was the only thing that felt right. It only lasted for a second before the shock forced him away from me, and he held me at a short distance. He cleared his throat, color filling his cheeks, “why did-what are you...we can’t do this when you’re still a bit drunk, Eva. I don’t know if this is you or the ale from earlier, but...you aren’t in the right state of mind for this right now,” he noted, chuckling to lighten the mood.

“Does that really matter anymore?” I asked, closing the space between us once more, and he allowed me, “I want this. Do you want this?” I asked, gazing up into his eyes.

He sighed, “you know I do, and you know I’ve wanted this for a long time. There’s a reason I haven’t done anything since we were young, though, Eva. You belong with Loki, and I don’t want to get in the way of that. I love both of you too much to ruin what you have,” he whispered, his arm snaking around my waist, telling a very different story than the one spilling from his lips.

“What do you think you would be ruining? The rubble of our love? Do you think you can shatter heart we shared anymore? Could you kill a flower that was already dead?” I asked, realizing that, while I loved Loki more than life itself, he loved me no longer, “I will love your brother until the day I die, but he has hurt me so much, I think I deserve a moment of happiness. I deserve to remember the sweetness of love, which is something I have forgotten the taste of for so long. Remind me...please,” I begged, grasping onto his robes in a desperate attempt to let him know that I would not hold anything against him.

He searched my eyes for any hesitation that could have been lingering there, but he found none. He found only loneliness and grief. Perhaps he felt sorry for me, or perhaps he was giving into urges that had lain dormant since our childhood. Either way, he kissed me. I threw my arms around his neck as he lifted me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his waist, grunting lightly when he pressed me against the pillar he had been leaning on only moments ago. His lips were smoother than I had remembered them, and I could feel the areas he bit when he was nervous. As his left hand grasped my thigh, offering me an extra level of support aside from the pillar, his right hand steadied my face as he kissed me with more passion than I’d ever anticipated.

To my disapproval, his lips departed from mine, and he began to sprinkle kisses along my jaw and down to my neck, a place Loki always loved. As I squeezed my eyes shut, I forced the thought of him from my mind and focused on Thor. When he grazed his teeth against my neck, I arched my body into his, feeling a shiver run through me. As I arched into him, his arms wrapped around my body, squeezing me against him hard enough for me to feel every muscle and every crease even through the clothes. For the first time in such a long time, I felt small in someone’s arms. Aaldir, Hjalmar, and Loki always made me feel that way, like I never needed to worry when they were around. However, she had the opposite effect on me. I was the one to make her feel small, the one to protect her. Ever since her, I had not felt like the small one until now.

With one arm still draped over his shoulder, balancing myself, I grabbed his face with my other hand and turned his head so that he was looking into my eyes. I saw joy and desire and so much anticipation. I pressed my lips to his once more before pulling away and trailing kisses along his defined jaw and down to his neck. His hold on me tightened as I ran my lips along a sensitive spot. As I kissed him, he walked us down the hallway toward his chambers. He opened the doors with his back and shut them with his foot. When we were finally in the comfort of his room, he peeled me off of him and pushed me down onto the bed. I chewed on my bottom lip and laughed as his eyes scanned over my body.

Before I could react or speak, he joined me on the bed, nestling his body between my legs and proceeding to kiss me once more. As soon as I felt his warmth, Loki’s face flashed behind my closed eyes. I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes, but it was like he could feel my hesitance. He pulled away from the kisses and pushed himself off of me in an attempt to figure out where he had gone wrong. I shook my head, trying to collect myself, but I was failing miserably. The promise I made to myself such a short time ago was already being broken as I began to cry, “I’m sorry, Thor. I’m sorry,” I broke down, hiding my face in my hands. I felt so much guilt in that moment, so much anger at myself for being so stupid as to believe that I could just replace the love I received from Loki.

As soon as I began to cry, Thor crawled over to me and wrapped me up in his strong arms, “I know that you don’t want to hear this right now, but as your friend, I need to say it,” he stated as my body quivered and trembled in the arms of the man I wished I was meant to be with. If I was destined to be with Thor, my life would have been so much easier because he would have loved me from the very beginning until the very end. I wouldn’t have felt this pain. Maybe I was just cursed, though. Maybe it was my fault that Loki was hurt the way he was. Maybe I was at the center of his pain. Before my mind could continue down the darkened trail any further, Thor spoke, “I love you, Eva. I have loved you since before I can remember, and I’ve never stopped loving you. For a long time, I wished that you chose me instead of Loki. I wished that you would find happiness with me, but I always knew that you two were meant for each other. Even though it kills me to say it, you and I don’t belong together. You belong with Loki. You always have. And I can’t let my love for you ruin your relationship anymore than it already has,” he said, grief clear in his deep voice.

I shook my head, wiping my tears away as I found the strength to gaze up at him, “you didn’t ruin our relationship, Thor. You had nothing to do with this,” I murmured.

He sighed, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

*Thor’s POV*

I had been more surprised that she stayed after I told her the story of that day, more surprised than I was that she didn’t try to hit me. Instead, we shed tears together, and I sat with her until she fell asleep. After I told her what happened and apologized profusely, she lessened my guilt by being adamant about how it wasn’t my fault. Still, I could see the pain the truth brought her. She was heartbroken, and she went to sleep that way. A piece of me wished I had kept it from her, but it had been two years of her questioning why Loki turned his back on her, and I knew the truth.

Unable to sleep, I found myself with Heimdall in the Bifrost. Though even looking at the Bifrost brought Eva a sense of misery, she spent much time in the very spot I was standing, and I knew that it was because the her fear and sadness over that fateful day paled in comparison to love she had for the Midgardians and...her. She asked about them often, and Heimdall would always fill her in on the health and well-being of each of them. She was always the most concerned about Tony, the two of them having a special connection that I could not understand. Steve also held a special place in her heart, which I could understand much more. He was a soldier and always put the needs of everyone else above his own. He didn’t like to fight, but he did so that others could know peace. Eva did the same.

As I stood next to Heimdall, staring out at the stars, I felt his gaze shift over to me for a fraction of a second, “you told her,” he noted, clearly having cast his gaze upon us when he felt her distress. The two of them were connected the same way her and I were connected. It paled in comparison to Loki’s connection to her, but we could feel when something wasn’t quite right.

I nodded my head, “I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t keep it from her any longer. She deserved to know the truth,” I insisted, feeling guilty that I brought her to an even deeper level of grief but feeling hopeful that it would help her see the truth, that she had done nothing wrong, “she’s become far more destructive since Hjalmar’s death, and I sensed that she was spiraling. She’s lost so much. She blames herself for Hjalmar’s death, and she blames herself for Aaldir’s sorrow. She blames herself for Loki’s turn and believed it to have been her fault, like she could’ve stopped him from wreaking havoc on Midgard. She had every right to know the truth,” I added

“You are not wrong,” he stated, gazing back out at the stars, “she sacrificed so much for Loki, but I fear that she will now try even harder to free him, even if it means committing treason. She has no reason to show the Allfather anymore respect, for she now knows that he played a pivotal role in pushing your brother over the edge,” he added, and I gazed over at his solemn expression. He lowered his grief-stricken eyes, “I fear for her safety if she tries to disobey the orders of the King.”

“You have my word that I will do everything in my power to keep her from doing anything reckless, but she has never listened to me the way she listened to Hjalmar,” I said, thinking of one of my dearest friends, “how is he?” I asked, hoping for some words of comfort about Hjalmar’s new home in Valhalla.

Heimdall sighed, “I...cannot see him,” he confessed, hesitant to speak the words to me. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused as to how the gatekeeper and the guardian of the Nine Realms could lose track of someone. Before I could ask any questions, he turned his haunting gaze upon me, “I have searched for him, hoping to regale Eva with some stories of him when she came; however, I have not found him. I have searched every realm, every planet, every moon. I have searched the entirety of Valhalla, and I even looked for him in the Realm of the Dead. Still, I have found nothing,” he said, turning back to the stars, “I suggest keeping this between us for the time being. There is no need to put her through anymore pain right now,” he stated, strongly.

I nodded my head, “but what if she comes to you and asks about him?”

He frowned, the mere thought of it bringing a sour taste to his mouth, “then I will be forced to break the heart of a princess.”

*1 week later*

After another night spent watching over Eva and getting barely any sleep, I found myself standing beside my father, the man who was the cause of so much of her grief. She knew it now. She knew what he had done, and while I was surprised that she didn’t hate me for the role I had to play in Loki’s downfall, I was unsure of how generous she would be with my father. The two of us watched her as she practically danced around the training grounds with Sif and Ephinea. She hated fighting, but there was a side of her that came out when she fought that I had never seen before. She was skilled in battle the way no other man or woman could ever even hope to be. She blocked the attacks from each of the goddesses, and the two of them pulled no punches. Sif and Ephinea never went easy on Eva, so for Eva to hold her own against the Goddess of War and the Goddess of Strength, respectively, said so much about her skills.

As gracefully as she blocked what would have been a “finishing blow” from Ephinea, she began to take the offensive, swinging the dulled swords and moving like the ocean. I had gotten the chance to see her on the battlefield so many times throughout my life, and it always left me in awe. She had a plethora of her own weapons, many of which Aaldir had crafted for her or helped in the crafting process. He had given her two short swords that she used on occasion, and he also gave her the greatsword she used most of the time. Loki had gifted her a set of daggers, which were delicately crafted but stronger than anyone could anticipate due to their beauty. She danced around Sif and Ephinea, fighting both of them and successfully knocking them down and finishing them. After her success, she helped them back up onto their feet before starting again. I glanced over at my father, “she has grown far more skilled in the art of battle than even you could have anticipated,” I smiled, gesturing to her.

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips underneath his beard, “if this is how you plan to sway my mind on the matters she has brought up time and again, it will not work,” he reminded me.

I shrugged my shoulders, “it wasn’t my intention, but it would’ve been nice,” I stated, gazing upon the girl who was so strong but so broken, “she has a point, you know...about Loki,” I murmured, wanting my words to be between us. I watched as his eyebrows raised in shock, which was understandable as I had always been fairly quiet on the matter, never explicitly taking anyone’s side, “I don’t believe you to be delusional, which is why I think you know-as well as she does-that Loki doesn’t belong in the dungeons. He is far more dangerous around people who think like him. His mind was corrupted far more after he fell. Even if we could get him back to the way he was before, when he was only trying to take over the throne, instead of killing hundreds of innocent people on Midgard, it would be better than leaving him down there,” I explained, hoping that he would listen to me with an open heart and open mind, unlike when he listened to Eva make the same case about Loki.

He gazed over at me, the icy blue eye as solemn as ever, “so, you are proposing the same thing? I release Loki into Eva’s care, knowing that he is a weakness for her? Knowing that she could never do what needed to be done if it came to it?” he asked, “I simply implore you to think through every scenario,” he added, sensing that he had offended me.

I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing that he was not completely sincere, “no, you are asking me to doubt her. You are asking me to trust her less, but you don’t know her the way I do. You didn’t see her on Midgard the way I saw her. You have no idea what she has done-the sacrifices she has made-for the good of the Nine Realms, for the good of Asgard. You don’t see what she has given up, but I have,” I growled under my breath, angry that he would try to plant the seed of doubt in my mind.

He shook his head, “I do not wish for you to doubt her, but I do wish for you to look at this from a place of objectivity. If you did, you would have the same doubts I do,” he replied, a voice as calm as the breeze that morning.

“I can look at this objectively, and that’s why I believe she could take on this task. While we cannot go back and rewrite the past, she can turn the tides in our favor. If she were somehow able to turn Loki back to our side, think of what our strength could be with an ally like him! We would be much stronger with him as our ally than with him as our enemy,” I exclaimed, gesturing out at her, “look at her, Father! Truly see her for what she is! She’s no goddess, but she possesses the same skills as one. I don’t think this is coincidence. I truly believe that she is meant to be much more than another Asgardian woman.”

“You have much to learn about her, my son,” he frowned, trying to force a smile and failing. I watched as the look in his eye became distant, like he was revisiting a memory that brought him pain. He tried to push it away, but it lingered there.

I shook my head, “I know all there is to know about her. I know her better than I know myself most of the time,” I chuckled, gazing out at the woman I was in love with. For a long time, I fancied Ephinea and Sif. The two women were stronger than anyone gave them credit for, but I couldn’t talk to them the same way I could talk to Eva. Eva was just...special. I knew every little thing about her, even though I was sure my brother knew far more, things I couldn’t even imagine. I glanced back up at my father, “there’s nothing I don’t know,” I assured him, thinking of the many secrets she had hidden from him, secrets he would never even know.

“There is so much you don’t know about her, so much that you need to know,” he said, a sad smile spreading across his lips as he gazed out at her once more before stepping away from the railing and turning to face down the hallway, “walk with me and learn,” he motioned, and I obeyed, falling in step with him and casting one final glance back at Eva. Once we were far enough away from the prying eyes and ears of everyone else, he began speaking, slowing his pace, “before you or I, before my father and his father before him, Asgard was created. Where once there had been nothing, we received a land of beauty, peace, and salvation. This was the place where the Asgardians could call home, a place that was more beautiful and rich with life than any other, and we took it all for granted,” he explained.

“The land began to dry up. Where there had once been lush forests and beautiful mountains in the distance, it was barren. The Asgardians who lived her long ago took from the world but never thought to give back. They built this city upon her natural beauty, hiding the plentiful gifts she bore to them. The creeks and streams began to dry up. People believed that it was the world’s way of grieving. She had always provided for them, always gave more of herself than they could possibly take, but they did not rejoice as their ancestors once did. They took the gift of life for granted, and they took this realm for granted. They did not thank the world for her blessings, and they did not live their lives the way we were meant to,” he continued.

“The drought of the world continued. Food was more difficult to come by, and we were running out of fresh water. We began sending people to various realms to acquire what we needed and bring it back here. We had already stripped our world of all she had to offer, and we were doing the same with as many others as possible. Life was dwindling, and we were unsure about the future of Asgard,” he said before letting out a long sigh. When I cast my eyes over to his face, I saw that he was reliving a memory that haunted him, and a sadness came over him that I hadn’t seen before, “I had an older brother growing up, a man I’ve never spoken about, a man no one speaks of anymore,” he confessed.

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering how it could be that an entire piece of Asgard’s history was lost to me, “I forbid his name to be spoken, and there are not many who remember him, not the way I do,” he frowned, “Cul was older, stronger, and much more capable than I was. He believed himself to be the rightful King of Asgard, and when my father-your grandfather-died, Cul took the throne for himself. My father had groomed me to take his place after he died, but my brothers and I allowed Cul to rule because of his promise to keep us as his close advisors, a promise he broke shortly after his coronation. He picked from a group of his loyal followers to be his advisors. It wasn’t until he took the throne that we saw just how twisted he was, how his desire to rule festered into a madness we had never seen before.”

As we walked into the throne room, he stopped and stared up at the golden throne for a long moment, “he ordered that we strip the other planets of their resources, and if we were met with hesitation, we were to take the resources by force. He wanted to make it clear that no one would stand in his way. A part of me wants to believe that he had good intentions, that he wanted to show the Nine Realms that Asgard was still a powerful seat. However, the more he took from other planets, the faster ours was dying, so my brothers and I did what needed to be done. We stopped him,” he said, frowning at the memory. I could tell that it brought him so much pain even recalling it, so I couldn’t imagine the pain he went through when he lived it so long ago, “there was a bloodbath in this throne room. My younger brothers fell that day along with so many others, and it came down to just Cul and I. He had sent his followers away to spare their lives because he knew I wouldn’t kill him, that I would spare his life because of the ancient rules, rules he never followed but rules I couldn’t break,” he explained, glancing back over at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows, “but you broke them on that day?” I guessed, hoping it to be true.

He shook his head, a few strands of white hair falling out of place, “I couldn’t, and it wasn’t because of the ancient rules. I couldn’t kill him because he was my brother, he wasn’t the King of Asgard, not to me. I couldn’t kill him because I could still remember running around the palace with him and getting in trouble for fooling around for too long when I should have been studying battle techniques. Instead, I banished him to the Realm of Death, hoping that Death would be able to do to him what I could not bring myself to do. It was where he belonged. He delivered so many souls to Death that day alone that he deserved to face them all once more,” he said, glancing back over at the throne and narrowing his eyes, “but if I could go back with the knowledge I have now, I would have killed him when I had the chance because-”

Before he could explain his reasoning, a booming voice caused the entirety of Asgard to quake beneath our feet. It was the first time in my life I saw pure fear in my father’s eyes, “Odin!”

*Eva’s POV*

I stood in the courtyard that overlooked the Rainbow Bridge. Thor and Odin stood side-by-side in front of Sif, Ephinea, Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, and I. Behind us were members of Odin’s kingsguard. While I had not wished to even wake up at all that week-let alone see the Allfather-I stood there out of the love I had for Asgard and my willingness to protect the people from any intruder, including the one that stood before us with his battleaxe strapped to his back. He stood the same height as Hjalmar once did, only slightly taller than the God of Thunder himself. The man before us all held himself like a King with his shoulder straightened and his head held high. He looked massive, like he was a force to be reckoned with. I had never met him, but he looked so oddly familiar to me, like a face I had seen only once before.

Dark brown hair that matched his short beard fell in waves nearly as long as mine, but he pulled the strands from his face and fastened them behind his head to see clearly. Even from our distance, I could see myself clearly in his piercing green eyes. Those eyes were filled with so much anger, so much hatred, but they were still so beautiful and pure...a green that matched the colors of spring. My breath hitched in my throat, and it felt like I was going to suffocate. I knew those eyes. I knew them from somewhere, and when he spoke, I began trembling with unchecked fear, “I am Ezra, son of Cul, and I have been sent here by my father, Cul, son of Bor, the rightful heir to the throne of Asgard. I have been instructed to deliver a message to the usurper, your false king,” he spat out, grimacing at Odin. I was shocked by his words, unsure whether or not they were truthful. I had never heard of Odin having any brothers aside from Vili and Ve, and neither of them had any children of their own. It was clear by the looks on the faces of my comrades that I was not the only one who was confused by his claims.

Even if he did, Odin was our King, and for an outsider to show up in Asgard and insult the throne, it was unacceptable. While I was angry at Odin for justifiable reasons, I did not hate him, and I would still fight to protect Asgard and her people. As I made a motion to step forward, Ephinea put out her hand to hold me back. When I tried to pass her still, she grabbed my arm, making her movements as small and unnoticeable as possible to keep from gaining the attention of the the outsider. She gave my wrist a gentle squeeze, trying to remind me without words that this wasn’t the right time. The small motions still pulled the attention of Ezra, and he glanced over at me in particular. His green eyes scanned over my body, and he smirked, “you’re just itching to kill me, aren’t you?” he asked before glancing back at Odin, “I see why you keep some of your best warriors chained up in the dungeons-like your son. It must be terrifying to have this one roaming around,” he said, gesturing to me.

A fury erupted in my chest as he mentioned Loki. I gritted my teeth, my chest continuing to rise and fall at an alarming rate. Still, I remained silent, not wishing to escalate the situation. Odin spoke up, “did you come here to discuss the population of Asgard’s dungeons, or do you have another motive?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow with a mischievous grin. He was pulling a page out of Loki’s book, smiling in the face of danger. It was one of the things that made me love Loki even more, and it made me see Odin as so much more than I had been willing to in the past. In that moment, he became so much more three-dimensional than ever before. While he had forsaken Loki in the past and made his own mistakes, there was a piece of him that still loved the young trickster. When I saw him find his confidence the way Loki did, it made me think of the impact Loki’s actions must’ve had on the Allfather. While I wished to speak with Odin about it, I knew that this was neither the time nor the place for such discussions.

Ezra cast one more glance over at me with a smirk that made me sick to my stomach, but he turned his attention back to Odin when I grimaced at him, “my father sent me with his demands. In his exile, he has been building allegiances with many people within the Nine Realms and beyond, and I can assure you that none of them are particularly fond of Asgard. They would be willing and able to tear Asgard apart at my father’s command, but he is willing to go about this peacefully,” Ezra stated in a menacing tone.

“And what does Cul want in return for his promise of peace?” Odin inquired.

Ezra chuckled, stepping forward, “he wants the throne back, the throne you stole from him,” he growled, pointing a finger at the Allfather, “he demands you hand over the throne of Asgard, and in return, you will be exiled to the Realm of Death just like you did to him. As I see it, you have two options: you can surrender and meet his demands, which will lead to a peaceful life for your people; or, you can resist, which will lead to our return and the subsequent bloodbath that will take place. Either way, we will take the throne of Asgard, but your decision could save thousands,” Ezra said, offering Odin the ultimatum as if he was in any position to do that. He came to Asgard with no supporters behind him and threatened a King with the entire Asgardian army at his disposal.

Odin smiled at the man in front of him, and I saw the condescending undertones, causing me to smile as well. While I harbored some ill will toward him upon recent news, I could not bring myself to hate him or declare that he was a poor king. He held himself with strength and dignity, which was something that would not work in the strangers favor, “you forget the third option,” he smirked, and Ezra cocked his head, clenching his fists, “it’s where I let your armies come, and I defeat Cul just like I did all those years ago. I had no problem doing it then, and I won’t fail now. You do not look for peace, but I pity you if you try to fight us. We know much about what must be sacrificed to maintain peace, and I do not wish for a war. However, I will do what needs to be done should your father attempt to wage a war against Asgard and her allies,” he explained, “so, you can tell my brother that his proposition was met with resistance.”

Ezra chuckled, stepping even closer to Odin. As soon as he was too close, the entire army behind us drew their weapons, but Odin raised a hand, wishing to entertain the boy for even longer. I listened to the warriors lower their weapons, but they did not put them back in the sheathe. I glanced down at Thor’s hands that were balled up in fists. Ezra leaned in close to Odin and spoke, “well, I came here for your surrender, and I’m not about to leave empty-handed,” he murmured before stepping away from the two of them and pointing at me. Once more, his eyes trailed along every piece of my body before locking eyes with me, “I’ll take that one,” he dictated, closing the space between the two of us.

Before he could stand directly in front of me, Ephinea stepped between the two of us, “try to take her, and I will rip you in half with my bare hands,” she threatened, rage clear in her voice. She had always been like an older sister to me, so it didn’t surprise me that she would react like that to someone who was threatening my safety.

Ezra glanced over at her but then back at me, “call off your dog, pet,” he instructed, cocking his head to the side with a smile filled with false admiration.

I scowled at the nickname he decided to give me, and I felt a chill run down my spine at the thought that I could be traded off to ensure peace, even if that peace would be short-lived. Odin’s stunned silence was not helping ease my troubled thoughts, but I had to act with strength and grace just as I always tried to, just as my father taught me all my life. I raised my hand and rested it upon Ephinea’s shoulder as I stepped out from behind her. She gazed over at me, horrified and flustered because of my actions. She had no idea what I was planning to do or why I was planning to do it, but I offered her a short glance that I hoped would set her mind at ease. When I stepped between her and Ezra, he didn’t break eye contact with me. He smirked, one of his eyes twitching ever so slightly as he narrowed them at me.

He searched my eyes-for what, I didn’t know-and when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he grabbed my chin and brought his face impossibly closer to mine, “tell me, what is it you want, pet? Do you wish for acceptance? Strength? Power? A real family? A place where you belong?” he asked, “I’m sorry to break your heart, but you won’t find any of that here, not with the current ruler. And, what about Loki? I’m sure you want him back, too, don’t you?” he asked, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. How did Ezra know about Loki? How did he know about my deepest desires? As I stared up at him with wide eyes, terrified that he was able to pick me apart so easily. He raised his eyebrows, sympathy crossing over his face, “you have so much to learn, beautiful, and if you cooperate, we’ll give you the answers you seek and the opportunity to live out the rest of your life with Loki,” he murmured before grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me even closer to him, “but should you fail, I will find your girl on Midgard and tear her apart in front of you just for fun!” he growled, my heart twisting and shattering into a million pieces before he pushed me down onto the ground.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Thor’s loud voice boomed, almost like thunder itself. I could barely think of anything aside from Ezra’s threat. I was paralyzed with fear at the very idea that enemies of Asgard knew about her, that they could use her against me. Thor spoke as I tried to collect myself, “you are sorely mistaken if you think we’ll just hand her over to you. Now, we have entertained this madness for long enough. If you try to take her, you will not live to see another sunrise,” Thor promised, glancing down at me and nodding his head. I knew that I would have nothing to fear with Thor by my side. Even if Odin, for some reason, wanted to send me away, Thor would betray his father just to keep me safe.

Ezra chuckled again, laughing in the face of the God of Thunder, “I haven’t seen a sunrise in nearly 300 years,” he confessed, and a piece of my heart broke for him. I couldn’t help but see small pieces of Loki in him, the anger, the pain, the hate. I had nothing to compare Ezra to, though. I knew the man Loki used to be, so I knew that pieces of him were still alive. Still, everyone could be saved, and that included the enemies of Asgard. Ezra continued, “no matter! I’m used to taking what I want by any means necessary, and I don’t lose,” he said before unsheathing his axe in one swift motion and swinging it down toward Thor.

In the split second it took Ezra to begin the attack, I jumped up to my feet and drew Hellbreaker, one of the many swords my father had helped forge for me. Right before his blade could graze my prince, I stepped in front of it, catching the handle of his battleaxe with the blade of my sword and stopping him from hurting Thor. His eyes widened in clear astonishment. I was sure someone like him didn’t anticipate anything extraordinary, especially not from the person he nicknamed “pet” only moments prior. I pushed him away from the Thor and I, “you don’t lose?” I asked, grinning up at the intruder, “well, neither do I!”

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butiaintgonnaloveem · 6 years

Text

Try to Understand Pt 9

Characters: Alpha!Dean Smith, Beta!Benny Lafitte, Omega!Reader

Word Count: 3521

Warnings: Angst, language

A/N: Hello dear friends and readers! You’re all so wonderfully patient with me. We’re getting close to the end, and I hope you enjoy this part. It’s a lot. @roxy-davenport did some amazing beta reading for me. I always appreciate feedback and constructive criticism.

Note about the tags - there are so so many I can’t tag. I tried. If anyone has any advice for fixing it, let me know.

Part 8

From part 8:

“No,” he yanks away from you.

“No, you need to let me walk away before I say something I can’t take back.”

“Just - you can’t say anything to anyone, please?”

“What the hell am I even supposed to say?”

“Benny, please talk to me. Let me explain. Try to understand -”

“There’s nothing to understand.” he says, harsh enough to keep you from going after him again when he turns to walk away this time.

You don’t bother watching after him. Instead, wrapping your arms around yourself and focusing on the concrete, trying to force away the emotions threatening to burst free at any moment. A small crowd had formed and you can feel their eyes watching you. The morning air suddenly feels suffocating so you turn away and begin to walk. The direction isn’t significant, as long as it takes you away from the here and now.

You walk to burn away the nerves, the anger, the embarrassment, the guilt presses at your chest. . They all threaten to send your fists flying at anything in sight, Eventually it all does burn away, and your skin goes dewey with the effort, muscles tingling as you push hard with each step. Hours pass, your body aches and the sunshine turns into long, cool shadows between the buildings. The golden reflections on the windows turn to bright white rectangles, lit from fluorescent lights inside. You walk until the cool air finally breaks through and brings a chill, prompting you to find your way back to the office building to face whatever comes next.

It’s mostly empty, and you drag your sore and tired body through the building until you reach the office you’ve been sharing with Dean. A soft yellow light from inside lets you know he’s still there.

With your eyes downcast, you push the door open, and slowly shut it behind you. Leaning against it, you take your eyes off the floor, and nervously look up to see Dean staring at you. His lips are parted and his eyes are rimmed with red. Sadness and relief rolls off of him in waves, clear in the glassy look in his eyes.

“You’re okay,” he breathes out with a sigh.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” You answer softly, wary of any potential outbursts.

“You, uh,” he clears his throat, his voice taken on a harder edge than before. “I wanted to give you some time, and then you didn’t come back and you didn’t take your phone…” He trails off, tone wavering a little at the end.

The sound of disappointment in his voice is enough to make you hang your head in shame, “I’m sorry. I just needed to try to talk to him, and get him to understand. I didn’t want to tell my family. Then I needed some air to calm down and clear my head.”

Dean shifts from his chair, standing up and straightening his clothes before running a hand over his hair to smooth it. “And? Did it help?”

“No,” you answer, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

You see him nod and move around to the front of the desk then lean against it, his fingers anxiously tapping against the edge. “Why haven’t I scented him?”

You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat. Burning, prickling sweat breaks out all over your body as the truth trickles out, “I change my clothes. Before and after work. I didn’t mean for all this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was just trying to weigh my options,” you whisper, making his head snap up.

“Options?” he spits like an accusation.

“Yeah. Options. Maybe you forgot that I’m not an idiot!” He gives you a disbelieving look which sends a wave of uneasiness to settle in your gut, but you continue, “Naive, unaware, ignorant, whatever makes you happy - sure. But I’m not stupid. I’ve looked into things. Did you know that plenty of omegas live perfectly happy lives with betas? That not every omega has to be with some alpha that thinks she’s his property just because of her genes?”

“What the hell? Those omegas didn’t find their true mates. This is different. Really? You looked into things? You’re serious with this shit?”

It’s a slight nod, but it’s enough of an answer. He turns away toward the windows, rubbing a hand over his neck, the other clenched into a fist. Restless, anxious energy setting him off to pace back and forth.

“What about your heats? Fuck, you’re almost in heat right now.”

“You’re not my Alpha, why’s that your problem?”

He whirls around on you, a fierce look on his features that’s frightening and exciting. Complete Alpha confidence and hunger in his gaze. “I could be. Fucking should be.”

“You’re not,” you point out.

“Damn it, yes I am and you know it,” he growls. His hands grab your arms, jostling you as he pulls you against him. He nudges his nose along the side of your neck, taking in your scent with a deep inhale. “Should be my scent all over you. Should be him ready to explode with jealousy. Should be my mark on your neck.”

“I didn’t even sleep with him,” you confess, trying to sound annoyed, but it’s too breathy to sound genuine.

“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” he snaps at you, sarcasm dripping with anger, as he pulls his head back to look you in the eyes.

“What do you want from me?” Your eyes dart back and forth between his, desperate for clarity. “I have nothing to offer if I give in to this. No family, no money, just a fucked up view of the world. I have nothing and nowhere to go.”

Dean’s eyes close and his face scrunches up in a grimace as if you’d caused him pain with just your words. His hands move to cradle your cheeks and he leans his forehead against yours. You can feel the way his body tenses and nearly vibrates against you, muscles trembling with whatever he’s holding inside. He sucks in a deep breath and pulls away, forcing a bit of distance between you. All the while he continues to stare intently, his body slowly inching away before he finally speaks.

“God damn you’re making this so hard,” he whispers. “I know what this is, and I know what I want. It’s you - with or without your family or your status and money. I want my Omega.”

He backs away until he reaches his desk. He pulls his suit jacket back on before picking up his bag and fiddling with the strap for a moment, “I’m not going to play any more games and I’m not pretending this is anything it’s not. I know you don’t want or need anyone telling you what to do. You need to decide. Not for me, or them. For yourself.”

You’re frozen still in front of the door. He steps up close to you, and places a hand gently on your cheek. He nuzzles his nose into the other side of your neck scenting you as he makes a soft hum.

“You wouldn’t have nothing, you know that, right? Charlie is your friend, you have your job, and I’d do anything for you. You’d have your Alpha,” he whispers. You can feel the sadness rolling off him, but can’t will yourself to do anything except follow his lead as he moves you to the side and pulls away. Without another look your way, he pulls the door open and stomps down the hall.

You lean back, resting your head against the wall and stare at the ceiling, fighting tears for what feels like the millionth time that day. Once you’ve got your emotions bottled back up, you draw in a deep breath and glance around the familiar office. Nothing is out of place, nothing’s changed, but it feels different; your little bubble had popped, but even without it, it feels good to be there - familiar - like home. Dean’s scent - earthy, woodsy with some spice - permanently settled into everything. When you realize why you like it so much, the revelation forms quietly and slowly in your mind. It’s like you’re walking on your family estate, at the border of the garden near the pines. Your favorite place.

I’m such an idiot, it dawns on you and it’s hard to resist smacking yourself on the forehead. Gathering your things, you find your phone sitting on Dean’s desk, lined up perfectly next to the desk calendar, still blinking with notifications of missed calls. You ignore all of them, pulling up your contacts and hitting the call button.

“Oh my god, hi!” her enthusiasm draws out a small smile, your cousin, Anna’s, voice high-pitched and breathy as she greets you.

“Hey, Anna. Do you have some time to talk?” One of her kids shrieks in the background, but you hear her shush them and close a door..

“For you? Of course. You’re the only family I ever hear from.” She doesn’t sound sad, and you instantly wonder if you’ll ever feel the same.

“I don’t know how you did this by yourself, Anna, I am so so lost.”

“Did what? What’s going on?”

The tears finally fall, “I presented, Anna. I’m an Omega.”

She gasps, but stays quiet, giving the statement a moment to sink in. “Tell me everything. Have you told your parents? You’re not hurt are you?”

It’s a rushed conversation, as you rattle off the events of the last couple of months. Your cousin listens with a sympathetic ear, only interrupting with a few questions now and then.

“And this Alpha? How does he make you feel?”

“Like a crazy person,” you say, pulling a laugh from the both of you. “He kind of puts me on edge, like I’m always a little nervous with him, but at the same time I want that. That doesn’t even make sense.” You get up and pace in Dean’s office, smiling at the photos on Dean’s shelves.

“Have you met other alphas?” she asks.

Your nose scrunches up as you think of other alphas from the office, especially Michael, “Ugh. Yeah.”

She laughs quietly, “Not the same, huh?” You hum a quiet no. “Okay, I’ve got a weird question for you now. Can you answer something honestly?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“What does your Omega say?”

“What?” your face wrinkles with confusion. “I don’t get it.”

She huffs out a breath and you can image the exasperated look on her face about needing to explain this, “Like that little voice inside you, call it your instincts or whatever, but being an Omega, there’s a part of you that just knows what you want and need. I knew my Alpha was mine because of those feelings - like home, comfort, desire, fucking happiness - all rolled into one. It’s so cheesy, but I’m telling you it was like magic, like fucking Cupid shot me with an arrow and I couldn’t help myself. It was the same for him. We were made for each other and my inner Omega called out for him,” she sighs wistfully. “So, what does your Omega tell you?”

Driving on autopilot, the radio, the sounds of the city and the traffic all turn into white noise around you while you make your way to the home you share with Benny, your stomach gnawing with dread.

With your keys in your hand, you tap your knuckles against the hard surface. After a minute, the door cracks open, and Benny gives you a cold, blank stare.

“Don’t know why you’re knockin’, this is your house,” he says dismissively as he steps aside to let you in, his scent making you cough, suddenly unpleasant and stale to your extra sensitive nose.

“I didn’t know if it still would be.”

“I haven’t said anythin’.”

“Why not?” you question him timidly.

“Honestly? I don’t know.” He shakes his head as he stares at the floor, “I don’t know, chere. It should have come from you. I deserve to hear it from you. Damn it, I deserve to know it all, and how long you’ve been playing me.”

Tears well up, lingering along your eyelashes as your lips tremble and you choke down sobs. You cross your arms over your chest to cover yourself while you shuffle to lean against the wall.

“No, Benny, it’s not like that. I-I,” you stop, trying to figure out what to even say to him. Nothing sounds right. I’m an omega. I was trying to fall more in love with you than with him. I’ve been trying to decide between two men I might be stuck with for life. “I made some mistakes, and I just lost control, it was...there’s a connection...I just don’t know if I feel -”

You can’t finish a single thought, Your mind races to put it all together, trying to put it nicely, trying to be honest, but you don’t even know what to be honest about. Benny stands at the other end of the room, lips in a tight line, chest huffing, but otherwise stiff and waiting for answers. His eyes bore into you as the silence drags on.

“How’s that even happen?”

“I don’t know. It got triggered somehow. It doesn’t even really matter anymore does it? I just came to get my things.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I can’t be with you.”

“And who told you that? That Alpha?” He spits out the title. You remain still, afraid of the anger in his tone. “And you jus’ believed him? Let him take advantage of you like that? And then that other alpha on the street? You’re nothing but a piece of meat to them. Property to own and breed! Just the way he was looking at you...”

“Benny, it’s not like that,” you reply in your calmest tone.

“Were you gonna tell me? Bout him? Bout you? I know you don’t love me,” he says flatly. You open your mouth to argue, but he shakes his head to stop you, “I know it, but you could’ve. You were only gonna be stuck with me for the rest of your life because this was all arranged, but don’t rub this in my face. You’re Omega and you were lying to me, stringing me along.”

Trying to shrink as small as possible, you tuck your head against your chest, mumbling low, “I know, and I’m sorry.”

“What was your plan, were you gonna lie forever?”

Tears drip from your eyelashes, and you watch as the spots spread on the fabric of your clothes. You try to gather trying to gather enough strength to keep the shakiness from your voice. “I don’t know, Benny. I got here and it was all so strange, and the heat. God, how it hurt. I can’t control it - can’t control any of this, but I wanted to. For once, I wanted to control my life, and I don’t know what I would have done if Dean wasn’t here. Maybe go home, take suppressants and try to make you happy, make my parents happy. Who am I otherwise?”

“And all this because of what some alpha says?”

Your head jerks to try to nod, but you don’t quite get there, words catch in your throat.

His lip curls into a snarl as he continues, one finger jabbing at the air to make his point, “You were raised to know better. You know the stories of the abuse, the beatings to keep them in line. How they keep them pregnant all the time, just breeding them like some puppy mill bitch. And the alphas? They get to do whatever and whoever they want, long as they get theirs. So, that’s who you chose to listen to? You know better!”

“Benny, it’s not like that. There’s so much you don’t know. And Dean - he’s not like that.”

“He’s Alpha, that’s just how they are.” He shifts a little from a tense, defensive look, to something much more stoic. He moves toward you, placing a hand on your shoulder, talking to you in his placating business tone, “Know what? Why don’t we go on home and figure that out? Get away from all this, to let you think clearly with some fresh air and some familiar faces. I bet you’ll get all this cleared up and find out it’s been some mistake.”

“And you’re different? DO you even hear yourself right now? Betas aren’t any better than anyone else. I’ve seen how my mother was treated - like some ornament for my father to show off when needed, always keeping up the family image, never stepping out of line. Your family’s the same. Don’t you dare try to deny any of that.” Your voice shakes with emotion, finger pointed at him in accusation.

“Come on, now. You’re being ridiculous,” he shakes his head, “I’ve never treated you bad.”

“I know that, but…neither has Dean, and...” The anger deflates from you like a popped balloon, “You’re never going to understand, you can’t,” you whisper.

“You need to get away from that Alpha, let your family sort you out.”

“Benny,” you sigh shaking your head with a pained look on your face, “I can’t-”

“The hell you can’t, or is it that you won’t? You’re sick,” he runs a hand over your cheek and forehead, “Look at you, you’re feverish.”

“I need him.” Your lower lip trembles as you look at him, feeling your heart physically ache in your chest. He pulls his hand away as though your fever burned him and rubs his fingers through his beard, looking off to the side in anger.

“So that’s that? That’s your decision? Dean - he ain’t just your boss.”

“He’s not my mate.”

“But he would be, wouldn’t he?”

Again, you fall silent, unable to say the words you know will hurt Benny; avoiding outright calling Dean your True Mate. “Benny I - I can’t change this, and I’m so tired of fighting it. It’s not fair to you, and I hope you find a beta who will make you happy-”

“Jus’ stop,” he holds a hand up to stop you, but doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’m done, there’s nothing left to say if you’re an omega. You want that life? Go on then. Whatever we had is done and I don’t want your pity.”

Though he’s not your mate, the sting of rejection still hurts. “I’m just gonna, uhm, grab some stuff and get out of your way.”

“Just so y’know, I’m not defending you to your folks. I’m gonna go home and they’re gonna wanna know why you’re not with me. I ain’t a liar.”

“There’s nothing to defend, I’m still me, but don’t worry, I’m not putting that on you. I’ll tell them.”

Your body reminds you of the urgency of your situation with a sharp sting of pain. You rush into your room, grabbing some clothes and toiletries, shoving them all messily into the first bag you find. When you leave the room, Benny is still in the same spot you’d left him, leaning against the wall and staring at the floor with feigned interest.

“Bye, Benny,” your voice cracks. He doesn’t look up, and after a few moments of the tense silence, you turn on your heel and leave, lip caught between your teeth as you try to keep yourself from crying again.

The whole drive over to Dean’s is excruciating. You grit your teeth through waves of cramps that make you tense up and keep you on edge. You curse every stupid traffic light that lengthens the journey. Sweat beads at your hairline, and makes the steering wheel feel sticky beneath your palms. The thought of Dean alone intensifying your heat with every moment.

His doorman calls up to inform Dean of your arrival before nodding to allow you into the elevator. The fabric of your shirt irritates your skin as your start to sweat through it, nerves making you pace back and forth in the elevator car as your ascend floor by floor. The elevator jerks to a stop before the doors roll open to a long, blank corridor. You follow the signs, chanting the unit number in your head so as not to mess it up.

You stare at the little gold plaque with the number on it for an extra few seconds, before gently tapping your knuckles against the door. You jump, yelping at the sudden movement, as Dean immediately flings open his door, fanning Dean-scented air your way. He looks a little startled to see you, and if it weren’t for nerves and shame, your muscles might’ve gone lax to let you collapse into him for relief.

It’s clear when your scent hits him, his mouth dropping open and shoulders rolling in an aggressive stance. He leans himself against the door frame, one arm propped at eye level, fist clenching into white knuckles, while his tongue sweeps across his lips.

“You’re in heat.” he says, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“And you’re here for me to help you?” He asks, eyes clenching shut and head shaking like he’s arguing with himself.

“I’m here because I need you.”

He growls so low it’s nearly a hum, then answers through grit teeth, “Your beta could’ve gotten you through it.”

“No,” you reply sadly, shaking your head.

“Because he doesn’t want you?” he supplies, eyes focused on your feet as they shuffle back and forth.

“I don’t want him. I need you.” He scoffs, followed quickly by a grunt.

“I need my Alpha.”

Part 10

Tags: @mogaruke @feelmyroarrrr @kayteonline @notnaturalanahi @attractiverandomness @mrswhozeewhatsis @deathtonormalcy56 @kittenofdoomage @supernatural-jackles @luci-in-leather @brewsthespirit-blog @mysaintsasinner @sis-tafics @littlegreenplasticsoldier @ultimatecin73 @mrsjohnsmith @bringmesomepie @sharingan-rasengan-chidori @mandilion76 @muliermalefici @doctorboo82 @boxywrites @essie1876 @sherrybaby14 @emmysthougts @sylverminx @someday-once @nostalgic-uncertainty @there-must-be-a-lock @carryonmyswansong @the-geeky-engineer @model-howell @ginamsmith @dr-dean @avasmommy224 @moonlitskinwalker @docharleythegeekqueen @is-this-you-manning-up-sammy @theficlibrarium @littlestrawberrypizza @ceeceewinchester @zanthiasplace @quick-act-supernatural @caratala @huntingthefire @girlwithanantipossessiontattoo @bookshido @frick-you-im-a-princes @moonstar86 @charliebradbury1104 @harleenquinzzel @hawkeyethenerd @sassy-losechester @its-sophia-xo-love @blacktithe7updates @emilypkuzu @klaineaholic @worlds-forever-apart @jenna-luke @agentmarvel13 @lavieenlex @ilsawasanacrobat @peaceloveancolor @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @woodworthi666 @theoutlinez @dwi1babe @hexparker @love-me-some-pie21 @mr-misty-eye-therefore-i @http-girlwithnolife45 @quiddy-writes @ravengirl94 @donnaintx @thatkittykat13 @bluebird214 @fandomloveyeah @rubynationwins @formulafun @piperistheshite @fudging-jefferson-starships @evyiione @monotachiko @mrsdeanwinchester16 @someday-once @flirtswithdanger @spn-smut-destiel @mackiemcb @peachyenzo @end-lessnights @wedontapologize @goldenolaf25 @sleepy-moon-girl @parkersbackpack @lalahumes @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @sasstrashwithnocash @myloveforyouxx @4401lnc @justanotherreaderr @winchesterprincessbride @brindz30 @olivia3aivilo-blog @hereissomeapplejuice @yohanneswinchester @shewasonce @multifandombackpack @troubletrumble @1-fighting-dreamer @spnj2mfreak @rckyfrk @amandamdiehl @kazuha159 @killyoursoulmate @vvinch3st3r @pansexualgrapes @1-800-loony @moremusclemoresmile @pisces-cutie @jeanjeaniethings

#spn a/b/o #alpha!dean smith #alpha beta omega #alpha!dean smith x reader #a/b/o dynamics #beta!benny laffite #alpha!dean smith x omega!reader #spn au #spn fanfiction #dean smith x reader #dean smith a/b/o #benny lafitte angst #spn fanfic #my writing #try to understand series #it's a terrible life au

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howlingbarnes · 7 years

Text

Forelsket - Part 2

Characters - Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff

Word Count - 3407

Warnings - Language

Forelsket - (Norwegian) That overwhelming euphoric feeling you experience when you’re falling in love with someone

A/N - I’m so excited about this soulmate AU that I basically have been writing it non-stop so far. The feedback from you guys is what keeps me going, tbh. Your boyfriend Bucky or your soulmate Steve, who do you go for?

Forelsket Masterlist

You knew that bringing Steve back to your apartment probably wasn’t the best idea but you didn’t know what else to do. Being seen out in the open on campus wasn’t something that you could risk, which you should’ve considered before you kissed him.

“You’re home early!” You heard Nat call from the couch as you pushed open the door. “Whoa.”

Natasha rose from the couch and strode over to where you stood with Steve. She gave him a once over and quirked a brow at him before turning her probing glare to you. Most of the time, she didn’t have to open her mouth for you know what she really wanted to say, and maybe that was for the best.

“Where’s Wanda?” Your voice held a sense of urgency as if you were being chased.

“She's at a bar with her brother, something about needing her twin or whatever,” Nat answered before grabbing your shoulders forcing you to do what you’d been avoiding since you’d set foot over the threshold: look her in the eye. “Who is this gorgeous man and why does he have soulmate hands on his face?”

Without a word, Steve stepped in front of the mirror that hung by your front door and let out a heavy sigh. He pushed his hand through his dirty blonde hair, disheveling it just enough for your heart to skip a beat. You never understood soulmate connection until just a little over an hour ago but you knew for sure that what you felt for Steve was real and it was something you’d never experienced before. It made you wonder how people could manage to function through everyday life without being attached at the hip. The more you looked at him, the closer you wanted to be.

“I can’t go back to Buck’s looking like this,” Steve mumbled. Though he tried to sound disappointed, the look in his eyes said something else. He seemed almost proud to have the marks on his most noticeable feature.

“You can stay here until it goes away if you want.” The words left your lips before you even had a chance to think about them. Nat shook your shoulders in an attempt to get your eyes off of Steve and back onto her.

“Y/N. What exactly is going on?” She examined your features. Something that Natasha did often was see through the body language of others and she could almost smell the shame on you. “Oh my god, those are your soulmate hands on his face aren’t they?”

Nat freed your shoulders and pulled Steve into an unexpected hug. Her muffled voice went on about how happy she was to finally meet him and glad that you had finally met him. Her congratulations and smiles were short-lived when reality kicked her in the ass.

“Wait, what about Bucky?” She released Steve from her death grip of a hug and turned to you with a questioning look on her face.

Know that if there was anyone in the world that wouldn’t judge you about this, it was Natasha Romanoff, you told her everything. It was the first time you’d been completely real about your relationship with Bucky. You’d spent so much time being defensive about it against soulmate advocates that you never told anyone that your true feelings for him were mediocre at best. You'd always thought the feeling was mutual and that the two of you were together at this point out of convenience up until recently. Bucky was easy to be with and though you both knew that you weren’t soulmates, you never saw the harm in dating each other. You went on to explain to Nat how you found out about Steve and showed her the marks on your hand that were still holding strong.

“So what’s the problem here?” Natasha shrugged, her arms folded across her chest. “You know Bucky’s not your soulmate and that Steve is, and I swear to God if this is about your weird fear, I’m going to kick Wanda’s ass for making this impossible for you!”

You glanced at Steve, who was fixed on you. Even when you weren’t looking, you could just feel his eyes studying each detail of your face. You could feel your heart racing against your ribcage considering that the information that you were about to spill wasn’t something that you were even ready to accept yet.

“Bucky’s in love with me.” You had to admit that saying it out loud made it so much more real. Steve let out a heavy sigh, squeezing his eyes closed with the realization that things were about to get so much more complicated than they already were.

“Well shit, friend, you are quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place.” Natasha’s eyes darted around for a moment before she made her way back to the couch. “I’ve got your back regardless but right now, this is between you two.”

You thanked Nat and made for your room with Steve on your heels. After closing the door, you crashed face-first across your bed while Steve sat at the foot. It took a solid minute for everything to settle in, “reality” wasn’t a vivid word in your vocabulary just yet. Every time you peeked through your lashes at the figure sat on your bed however, things started to click.

“He’s in love with you?” Steve spoke but kept his body facing forward. He didn’t bother to move and neither did you. Deep down, the both of you knew that you’d end up touching each other if you got too close so maybe it was for the best.

“Bucky said he was falling in love with me, yeah.” You knew the words probably stung but it was the truth. There was no reason for you to lie to Steve. Soulmate or not, you were with Bucky first and it wasn’t like you were going to start denying anything now.

“You know this whole situation is fucked, right?” Steve asked, peering over his shoulder at you briefly.

Officially, you’d lost in the battle against your brain. Your hand reached out and landed on Steve’s shoulder and in an instant, you watched all of the tension leave his shoulders. With a slight tug, you pulled him to lean back, your fingers trailing across his chest to his other shoulder as you did. Once you were both comfortably laid, you were able to focus your thoughts for what felt like the first time the whole night.

“This would be more simple if his feelings weren’t so deep.” You paused for a beat, trying to get some clarity through the confusion. “I didn’t even know it was possible to fall in love with someone that’s not your soulmate.” While your mind went to work on what you were going to do, your fingers idly ran up and down Steve’s shoulder, taking your time and being sure to not pass the end of his sleeve and leave marks.

“I don’t think it really is.” Steve’s reply sounded more like a question than anything. “He might be clinging to what's comfortable.” It was clear that the two of you being baffled wasn’t going to fix the situation at hand.

“What do you want to do?”

The way you asked the question made you realize something. You noticed that you hadn’t been talking to Steve like you’d just met him. The air around the two of you, the way you were talking and interacting felt natural and comfortable. There was something a bit incredible about that to you, considering that it was a foreign feeling. You knew nothing of your new found mate. Where he was from, the things he’d been through in his life - hell - you didn’t know his major or even how old he was. All that you knew was that you were explicitly made for one another and there wasn’t a single human in the world that could take your place, just like there was no one that could take his. It was amazing, ethereal even but it also completely scared the shit out of you.

“I’m not sure,” Steve answered, scratching his beard before pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans to avoid touching you. “I’ve been waiting for you way too long to let you go without a fight. I know it sounds selfish, but that’s just how it is.”

“You don’t even know me yet. What if I'm not what you've been expecting?” You whispered into the crook of Steve’s neck, being sure to let his scent take over your senses while you were there.

“But I want to. You’re my soulmate, Y/N and I know the fact that we both still have these marks on our hands means as much to you as it does to me.” The passion in Steve’s voice didn’t go unnoticed in the least.

You’d been eyeing the marks from the moment Sam pointed them out. Even though you knew they would fade eventually, it felt like they were a part of you now. It was almost hard to consider, but it felt as thought you’d taken a piece of each other that would forever live on in that singular spot.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” You admitted with a sigh. “I think I’m just gonna tell him and see how he handles it.”

“If that’s what you want to do, I’ll support it just be sure to tell him that it was unexpected.” Steve shrugged before moving to stand up. “I need to get going, classes tomorrow.” He moved from your arms just less than ten seconds ago and you already missed the feeling of his body near yours.

You walked Steve to the door after exchanging numbers. Once you get out of class, you would talk to Bucky and then meet Steve at a cafe just off campus, that was the plan. Natasha called out a goodnight to Steve as you opened the door to let him out. Though his body was in the hallway, his shoulder rested on the frame of the doorway. His puppy dog eyes dug through your soul, having a wordless conversation with your heart.

“I don’t want you to go.” You weren’t sure what possessed you to admit that out loud, but it came out either way. Steve chuckled at this and tilted his head, bringing it closer to yours.

“I know, but I have to go,” He answered with a gentle kiss on your lips. “Mm, ‘cause if I don’t, you’ll be covered in marks by daylight.” With a roll of your eyes, you let out a laugh of your own and pushed him the rest of the way out the door. You said goodnight one last time and force yourself to push the door closed.

Pressing your back to the front door, you made eye contact with Nat who was munching on a handful of popcorn, giggling between bites. “So, Y/N, you’re cheating on your super hot boyfriend with your super hot soulmate. I don’t think you understand just how simultaneously lucky and completely fucked you really are.”

“I'm not cheating on Bucky! I'm just-”

“Kissing and falling for another guy?” Nat interrupted before setting her popcorn bowl on the coffee table. “Listen, I'm not against you at all. I do think you should stand clear of Steve until Bucky’s out of the picture though. I mean, how would you feel if it were the other way around and Bucky was my soulmate?”

“I wouldn't care.” You answered without missing a beat, your voice was too monotone for Nat to even begin to think that you were joking.

“Okay.” Natasha crossed her arms and jutted out her hip. “I need you to promise me that you'll try to be smart about this.”

You made your promise to Natasha and padded back into your bedroom. After changing into something comfy and doing your nightly routine, you climbed into your bed.

The sleepless night started out with you tossing and turning. No matter what position you'd gotten in, nothing was comfortable. Then, your mind started racing. You went back mentally over all of the events that took place that night, and the most vivid thing coming to you was Steve. He was such a vision, and if you were to be cheesy enough, you would even call him breathtaking. You could feel that strange warmth returning to your hand and realized you were losing that fight against your heart, once again, as you picked your phone up off your nightstand. It vibrated in your hand, nearly making you send it flying across the room.

‘I can't sleep’

‘Neither can I’

‘Talk 'til we pass out?’

‘You're on, Rogers’

You weren’t sure that you’d ever answered back texts from anyone as fast as you did with Steve. All of the things you were wondering about him were coming to light with ease, rather than it feeling like some sort of interview. It didn’t take long for you life stories to come out, along with your deepest secrets. Steve made you laugh and cry, he made you laugh until you cried and everything in between.

‘What time do you have class?’

‘9am, you?’

‘Same and it looks like we’re both screwed. That’s in 2 hours.’

Deciding that it was for the best that you got out of bed and started your morning, you confirmed your plans with Steve to meet after you talked to Bucky and hopped out of bed. After a brisk shower, you changed your clothes. You didn’t bother putting on makeup because the sleepiness was starting to kick in without Steve to entertain you, and your eyes were starting to feel dry. You knew that Natasha would be able to spot how zombified you looked if she saw you so quietly, you tiptoed out of your room and made for the front door.

“Morning, Y/N!” Wanda chirped from the kitchen where she assembled her breakfast, making you nearly jump out of your skin in surprise.

“Shit!” You turned to her with your hand planted on your sternum, feeling your heart pound furiously against it. “I didn’t know you were home.”

“I got back while you were in the shower.” She shrugged, raising a piece of toast to her mouth. Those purplish marks on her arm reminded you of something that you hadn’t thought about all night. Trying to remain inconspicuous, you played your movements off as simply reaching for your keys but as you did, you noticed that your hand had no evidence of your soulmate on it. You let out a heavy sigh of relief and turned back to Wanda.

“I’m headed to class and then I have a couple things to do, can you wake up Nat? I think she had practice tonight.” Wanda nodded at your attempt to act normal and waved her hand at you as she chewed. You said goodbye and left for your class.

Sam sat next to you in class for the first time. Before he would sit a row or two behind you, the two of you would study together and help each other out from time to time. Now that Sam knew what was going on in your personal life, he decided that you were officially friends. You weren’t sure what Steve told him, but your story was going to stay the same no matter who asked; you went home, watched movies with Nat and had a hard time sleeping after that. Aside from Sam’s interest, your class went by quick and painless. Soon, you found yourself standing outside of Bucky’s door. Unsure of why your heart sank at the thought of telling him what you were there to tell him, you wiped your clammy palms along your jeans before gathering the nerve to knock.

“Hey, I was just getting ready to call you.” Bucky watched with furrowed brows as you stepped into the apartment. “Are you okay? You look a bit...shaken.”

“No, I’m fine.” You lied. You could feel your insides twisting and flipping. “I just pulled an all-nighter, big test coming up.”

Though you thought that you wouldn’t be bothered with ending your relationship with Bucky, you couldn’t have been more wrong. The idea of losing something is one thing, making it a reality was something else entirely. You’d been only been dating for a few months, sure, but he was good to you. There wasn’t a single thing wrong with Bucky. He was a handsome, intelligent, passionate, goofy, great guy. Every time you looked at him, you felt torn between keeping him for yourself and setting him free to find his soulmate. When you originally started dating, the two of you agreed that it didn’t matter that you weren’t soulmates. Together you decided that you didn’t want to look for your other halves and just enjoy your time with each other. Now, you weren’t too sure if you could stay away from your soulmate for the sake of a supernova romance.

“We don’t have to talk about last night right now if you don’t want to,” Bucky mumbled, leading you into the living room. “I know it’s too soon and I know I’m not your soulmate so we’ll never understand that level of connection, but I think we’re good for each other.” As an additional twist of the knife, Bucky topped his thought off with a sweet smile. He looked hopeful, innocent and over everything, he looked happy. Could you will yourself to tear that away from him for your own selfish reasons?

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, brushing away stray tears that you hadn’t really noticed were leaving your eyes.

“I’m just - I’m just really tired right now.” You sniffled out an answer before rubbing the heels of your palms to your eyes. “I’ve been awake for like twenty-eight hours.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. His gentle nature was enough to bring a new round of tears to your eyes. You felt awful but he’d never be able to tell because it wasn’t out of the norm for you to cry out of exhaustion.

“Go home and get some sleep. I’ll just call you later, okay doll?” Bucky nearly whispered to you, giving you a tight hug when you agreed.

Still perplexed at your own emotions, you made your way from Bucky’s apartment to your own. Instead of heading inside, you found your car and climbed inside. After sending a quick text to Steve, you set your course for Silver Spoon, a hidden gem of a cafe that wasn’t too far off campus.

“I couldn’t tell him,” You admitted, regrettably. “I’m not sure why I just looked at him and-”

“I get it.” Steve shook his head, his tone laced heavily with understanding. “Bucky’s a good guy with high spirits. When we were kids, I wanted to be just like him. You’ll feel like you’re disappointing him and it’s tough but I’ve never known him to be unforgiving.”

Steve put down his coffee mug and reached across the table. His hand took yours and you felt something ignite within you. The two of you seemed to get lost in each other, taking your time to realize what you were doing. Pulling your hand away, you looked down to see new marks on your hand in the same color as the first one.

“The first one lasts the longest. This one will be gone within an hour, at least that’s how long it took for mine to disappear last night.” Steve smirked, but the smile faded when he saw you still staring at the marks as if you were willing them away. “Y/N, I know you’re afraid of Bucky finding out, but we’re not going to know when they disappear if we don’t test it.”

“Let’s go test it then.” You weren’t sure if you were making decisions because you were tired or because you really trusted Steve that much. Either way, you stood from your seat and pulled on your jacket.

“Where are we going?”

“Your place, I need you to touch me on skin that’s not exposed.” Steve raised a brow at your words, a bit of mischief in his eyes that made you roll your own. “I need a nap if I’m going to deal with you, come on.”

Tags - (forever) @bovaria @bionic-buckyb @sebbytrash @marvel-ash @purgatoan @mrs-squirrel-chester @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @feelmyroarrrr @belledamsceno @my-blackbird-universe @hellomissmabel @callalilyiskewl @huffleypuffelycas @obi-wan-my-only-ho @alexx-in-wonderland123 @thirstybitchqueen @palaiasaurus64 @sarahpanda65 @explodingzombiesyndrome @supermoonpanda @callamint @takemetoneverland91 @jurassicbarnes @mizzzpink @seargantbcky @marvel-fanfiction @hollycornish @toc1985

(steve rogers) @justareader @nicmob @netflixa @winterboobaer @angelofwinchester17 @toasterofinjustice @silvervibraniumalloy @thelostpieceofpizza

(challenge) @buckysmetallicstump @girl-next-door-writes @zimniysoldat-fiction @a-home-for-stray-stories @melonshino-writes @tatortot2701 @moreinfinite@astralbarnes @marvelous-heroimagines @dadbuck @empathiccally @4theluvofall @buckys-fossil @assert-sarim @goody2shoessmut @sebastianstandoffish @i-cant-believe-its-not-war @lokid-by-winters-child @daasrighht @theassetseyeliner@buckyappreciationsociety @cate-lynne @not-withovt-yov @minervaem2 @beccaane814 @buckys-shield @land-of-parchment-and-ink@greeneyedgirls4 @wandarific @avengedwritings @serzhantkris @tori-medusa-belongs-to-bucky @dacianamusik23 @saulof-tarsus@sunriserose1023 @supersoldier-buckybarnes @t0kistar @another-writer @wndas-romanoff @swtltlmrvlgrl @avengerofyourheart@buckysbackpackbuckle @maha-pambata-is-my-patronus @imma-fcking–nerd @marvelfanuniverse @mindingmyownbusiness @knittingknerdy @bucks-metal-fate

(series) @lovely--anathema @shut-it-tinman @magical-spit @viollettes

#hopefully tags work #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #soulmate au #college au #forelsket #forelsket pt 2

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jiminwreckedme · 7 years

Text

Fragments

| 1 | 2 | Chapter 3

Member - Yoongi x reader

Genre - Angst, Fluff, (future) smut

Word count - 6.9K Im so sorry I was gonna keep every chapter in this series under and around 5K but things clearly got out of hand….

Summary - In a world where humanity was overruled by science, where everything not ordinary was shunned, where sympathy was an abstract concept, you found him. He, who was extraordinary in a way the world could never see. He, who did not want to become who the world wanted him to be. He, who was called Min Yoongi.

But your job? You job was to break him. To make him into something more ‘decent’ from the ‘unwanted creature’ he was seen as. Your job was to make him fall before what the world wanted. Not fall for him yourself.

But you see, human nature is funny.

It does exactly what it’s not supposed to.

You stood in front of room 613, staring at the dent caused by Yoongi’s punch the morning after it was made.

It was 12:15 already, but you who was always on time, hadn’t stepped in for your consultation yet. You had been standing outside for the last half an hour, contemplating, whether or not to go in.

After you had found out his story, Yoongi was the last person you wanted to see. You had a strong urge to just turn around and walk away but you couldn’t forget the words he said to you - ‘without knowing what happened, you have no right to talk’. He was right. Every story has two sides and his side of the story was something you didn’t know yet. You had to give him the benefit of doubt.

But how would you ever get to know it, if he wouldn’t talk to you? It was already very difficult to get him to open his mouth and after what happened yesterday? You were positive he would never talk to you again. Rather than wasting your time, you could let your chief know that you have given up on him and that you wanted to have your other patients back instead.

But every time you thought about leaving you remembered how his hand was bleeding from the wound he got yesterday and that he wouldn’t let anyone but you tend to it, not even himself. If not for learning about his story, at least for the sake of humanity, you had to help him. You would take a step to enter the room but then again the disgust Jin’s father had on his face when he was telling you the horrifying events would flash before you and you didn’t think Yooongi was someone worth your humane nature any more. You would take the step back.

And the last half an hour you had been taking one step forward and one step back, torn apart between deciding what to do and consequently hadn’t moved an inch from your position, still staring at the door. The tension was so thick you could taste it in the air around you.

But it seemed as though the universe was coaxing you to go to him because a guard walked by you quickly whispering into your ear,

“ Allev, What are you doing here? The chief is on his rounds now.”

Oh shit. Within a flash, you quickly stepped forward tapping your card and entered Yoongi’s room before your chief spotted you out in the corridor. You didn’t need to give him more reasons to complain about you not attending to your one and only patient, diligently. You could do with a little less criticism today morning. But as soon as you thought you managed to avoid one problem, you stepped into another. You stepped into Min Yoongi’s room.

Even with your back faced to him, somehow you knew his eyes were on you. You had seen his expression as soon as you entered but you had turned around quickly to shut the door. He looked at you in surprise like he quite didn’t expect to see you here and frankly you were equally surprised that you came in too. And now you didn’t want to turn back towards him, even though you very well knew that the moment your eyes met he would look away.

This time he didn’t. He continued gazing at you, his face expressionless, sitting so still you doubted if he was even breathing. For the first time, you were the one who had to break away from his gaze, clearing your throat unnecessarily and walked up to the menu to order his lunch for him. You could see his blood stained hand, but after yesterday, you weren’t sure if Yoongi would feel comfortable with you in a close proximity again. The fury that was in his eyes, the strength in his grip. He was mad, really mad and it scared the hell out of you.

You sat down next to him hesitating, as you reached for his hand which he let you take, still watching you. Gently cleaning the wounds whose now drying blood he didn’t even bother to wash, you resumed your daily routine silently. The whole irony of the situation though, was really annoying you. All these days you waited desperately for him to if not talk to you, then to at least look at you properly once, and now when he was constantly doing just that, you couldn’t meet his eyes. When you were standing outside, yes, you were confused about whether you wanted to see Yoongi or not, but now your inability to look at him gave you a much required clarity. You didn’t want to see Yoongi anymore.

When the knock on the door came, you shot up quickly, relieved to have an excuse to move away from him, as you received his food and kept it on the table, turning to him.

“I have to leave early today. Uh…make sure you eat your food and um….Yeah, just eat it.” you said awkwardly and walked up to the door to get away from him as soon as possible. You were going to walk straight to your chief once you got out of here and get Min Yoongi out of your life.

But as you stepped out, shutting the door behind you, you heard something. A very soft, desperate something.

“I’m so sorry Y/n.”

And the click of the door locking, sealed your meeting that day.

The next morning you stood outside, 5 minutes early to your scheduled session tapping your feet impatiently. Yesterday had been a mind wrecking day. One second you didn’t want to see Yoongi, the next second you suddenly wanted to go to him. Suddenly you would make up your mind and go to talk to your chief, walk all the way till his door and walk back changing your mind. Min Yoongi was really playing with your head.

Yesterday after you had heard him apologize to you, you had to see him now. You didn’t know if you could bear being in the same space as him again, but if he was willing to speak to you, you were willing to listen, and so when your watch gave a soft ding, you hurriedly tapped your card in the system and stepped in.

Yoongi was not there.

You panicked. Had he managed to run away? Yoongi was a patient under surveillance. He wasn’t allowed to leave his room like other patients could, his room’s system didn’t permit it. There was no way he could have escaped, he would have done it long ago if it was possible. Then where was he?

The flush sound from the washroom gave you your answer. You slapped your forehead feeling stupid. Well just because Yoongi was fragmented didn’t mean he wasn’t human. He had his own needs too. You proceeded to order his food, waiting for him to come out, getting a little bit excited that maybe Yoongi would finally start talking to you.

But he came out and sat down in his usual place on the floor, starting to trace some random designs on the floor, not acknowledging your presence if he noticed it. Puzzled at his completely opposite behavior from yesterday, you simply stood not knowing what else to do. Today though, as you observed him you realized, that Yoongi had no wounds. Whatever crazy things he usually did when you were not there in the room, clearly didn’t happen yesterday.

At the knock on the door, you walked to receive his food and turned to placed it on the table, not even noticing that Yoongi had got up to receive it too, bumping right into him, your card slipping from your grip. The two of you momentarily stared, confused by each other’s presence before quickly swooping down to pick them up. But as you reached for it at the same time as him, you eyes fell on the marks on his fingers on your wrist reminding you of his angry grip and you quickly retreated, jerking back, frightened of his touch. Yoongi noticed your fear and the quickening of your breath with a look on his face like something inside him broke. But what?

He stood up as he reached out for the first aid kit you usually brought out for him and he held out his hand to help you get up as he towered over you. You hesitated, still frightened of his unknown capabilities when he sighed taking his hand back to run it through his hair and sat on the floor next to you.

“I….” He cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck unnecessarily. “ I shouldn’t have lost control the other day”

“Wh- what?” you sputtered, unable to believe what you were hearing. Yoongi reached out for your hand holding it gently like it was made of glass. The red imprint of his fingers were clearly bothering him.

“I wasn’t thinking straight back then. I would have been more careful but the situation was such….” You bit your lip, recollecting the way you were holding onto his collar, screaming at him furiously. Yoongi took out an ointment and softly applied it on your wrist. “I’m sorry.”

“No I’m sorry Yoongi. It was my fault, I shouldn’t have….not without knowing what happened.” Yoongi simply gave an grateful understanding nod. “But if you tell me what happened….”

You waited for a long time that day but he didn’t reply. The conversation with Min Yoongi had long ended.

And you were back to square one.

The last one week again went with no progress. Yoongi not talking to you, Yoongi not looking at you.

When he spoke to you the other day, you finally saw a ray of hope. Maybe Min Yoongi could be convinced after all, but no. The only thing he was capable of doing, was driving you mad.

But things had finally reached the climax today, when he kept his mouth shut despite you asking him a question as simple as, ‘would you like me increase the temperature of the room?’ because it was raining outside and that was the limit. You understood the fact that he wasn’t answering any personal questions about his past or striking any conversations with you but the least he could do was answer such a simple question with at least a monosyllable or even a nod. Why did he have to show so much attitude for such a simple question?

You could felt all the locked up emotions rise in you and with all the energy you had you flung the remote in your hand across the room shattering it to a dozen pieces, finally getting his attention.

“What the hell is your problem Yoongi? How hard is it to say yes or no? I don’t know what you get out of this. Does it boost your ego when you see a girl so desperately trying to get to know you? No, do you think you have me wrapped around your finger and so I would tolerate anything and everything you do? Well let me tell you Min Yoongi, I will not. You may be the institutes most treasured patient, the world’s most famous boy or whatever for all I care, but for me you are no more than the patient next door and right now I am so done with you. You’ve been testing my patience ever since you got here and I think I’ve been patient for long enough. You are so self absorbed, so insensitive, shut in this cocoon you have made around yourself that you don’t bother about the people around you. Do you know what I have to go through because of you everyday? You don’t know what happens beyond these four walls do you? Then let me tell you Min Yoongi, what the reality is. ”

You could feel the anger starting to leave you as hot tears but you refused to let them show.

“Every morning I wake up to the taunts of my chief for not being able to do anything about you. I have been stripped of all my other patients and told to attend to you alone. All my colleagues have been given orders to avoid conversations with me so I can dedicate more time towards you. I spend all my free time researching about cases like you, my mind never sits still trying to find out how I can help you, what your problem is, why you are so stubborn but-”

You didn’t even realize until a sob left you that you had begun crying. Your knees gave away, unable to sustain the pressure you were feeling anymore, and you fell to them burying your hands in your face, losing the strength in your voice.

“But you don’t give a damn, do you Yoongi? That the one person who wants to help you has to go through hell for you everyday? That she has barely had any human interaction for the past don’t know how many days, and the one person who she is allowed to be with, treats her like she doesn’t exist? You don’t care that your attitude, your admancy have brought down someone to their knees, begging you to stop behaving like you are the only thing in the world that matters. I’m a human too Yoongi! I have feelings and emotions inside me too. Do you ever think about them? Do you ever stop giving yourself so much importance and think about another? I haven’t had a decent conversation with another person in days and now I’m..” you stop yourself seeing Yoongi who got up from his usual place, now on both his knees next to you. You looked at him through the tears in your eyes.

“Now I’m tired Yoongi. I can’t take it anymore. The silence that I have to be in around you suffocates me. I can’t breath here normally, I can’t-”

“Y/n- ” Yoongi reached out for your hand uncertainly but you pulled it back before it even came close to you.

“Don’t Yoongi. I don’t need your-”

“I had no idea.” his voice shaking, as he curled his stretched out hand into a painful, tight fist. “ I really had no idea. My intention was never to treat you this way Y/n.”

He paused not knowing what to tell you. “ I never wanted to hurt you I swear, but….I can’t let myself be deluded.” You looked at him quite not understanding.

“When I first came to the institute I heard you were going to be in charge of me and that being one of the best alleviators in the country you would easily talk me into taking the tests I have been refusing to comply with. I couldn’t let that happen Y/n. I couldn’t let your words get into my head and convince me to do something that I didn’t want. I don’t want to be alleviated Y/n. I don’t want to take any tests, I don’t want to undergo the defragmentation. I couldn’t let myself come into your words and crumble to what the society or the world thinks is right for me. I couldn’t forsake the things I stood for, pressurized by things I didn’t want. The only way to avoid coming into your words was to avoid you, cut you off completely so you would give up on me. I thought I was protecting what I stood for, but never wanted to make you feel this way. Please don’t cry y/n I …..”

He trailed away as you wiped you tears.

“But why Yoongi? Why don’t you want to get defragmented? It’s for your own good-”

“There are things that you don’t know Y/n and it’s better that it stays that way.”

You could see that this was the one thing he hadn’t wished to talk about. Now that he had finally begun to open up to you, you didn’t want to force him to rush with it.

“Alright, alright. Fine. Don’t tell me. But don’t cut me off Yoongi. Talk to me, like I am another human like you in the same space as you are. It doesn’t have to be about your past or about who you are or what you want to be by avoiding these tests, but acknowledge my presence, talk to me normally, that’s enough.”

“If you promise never to force me into something I don’t want, I will.”

You stared at him not knowing what to do. Was this a promise you could keep when your job was to get Yoongi to do exactly that? If you didn’t, would you lose the one chance to get Yoongi to talk to you? You swallowed hard, desperate to not let this progress become a failure.

“I- I promise.”

The next day and from that day on, the doors to Yoongi’s room were never locked away from you, none of his words, his smiles, his laughters were ever hidden from you. He would converse with you casually, you would watch movies together, crack pathetic jokes, eat your meals with each others company and after days the two of you were feeling alive again.

But every time you remembered how beautiful he looked when he laughed or his eyes sparkled when he was excited you would realize that Yoongi was truly keeping his side of the promise, and you could only wonder.

Wonder how long it would be before you were forced to break yours.

“Marco.” said a blindfolded Yoongi disinterestedly and you clicked your tongue in annoyance.

“Oh come on Yoongi, be a little sincere about this.”

“It’s a game for 5 year olds Y/n” he said exasperated. “How sincere can one get about something like this? I would rather we watched that chick-flick you won’t stop blabbering about instead of doing this. ”

You were getting nervous about the whole idea of the game because your plan looked like it was going to fail. You were trying to lead Yoongi to a special something you had prepared, and you didn’t even want him to know he had a surprise waiting for him. Earlier today you thought your idea of getting him to play this game would work perfectly. You could subtly lead him to where you wanted and he wouldn’t even know that your actual intention. But now it was tiring you, because first it took hours to convince him to play and now it was taking hours to play the game itself.

“Focus Yoongi.” you said trying not to show the desperation n our voice as you lead him towards your destination. “Polo.”

Yoongi walked towards you who was walking backward slowly down the empty corridor.

“How big is this room really?” asked Yoongi who hadn’t realized that he had stepped out of his room long ago.

That’s what you were trying to get him to do. It was only today morning that your chief had approved of your request to lift Yoongi’s surveillance and allow him to roam around the institute like other patients. To walk in the gardens, eat in the canteens, talk to others, basically do everything that pleases him, except leaving the institute of course. Yoongi had no idea about this and you wanted to surprise him by leading him to a place you thought he would like. When you saw the familiar structure you felt relieved, opening it’s door, letting him walk into it.

“Marco.” he called with his hands out trying to grab you.

“Polo.” you said and this time you did not move. Yoongi proceeded towards your voice, walking straight into you, finally catching hold of you. He laughed at his victory, quickly removing his blindfold and you smiled widely at your own victory.

The both of you were standing in one of the most beautiful greenhouses of the Institute, it’s green hues encompassing you in it’s enclosure. It was the flowering season now and every inch of the place - shrubs, trees, bushes, was covered in bright colors, further illuminated by the light of the sun entering through the glass roof. It was a silent place, it’s beauty a healing for those with a broken heart. People rarely came here, but when they did, they always found it hard to leave.

Yoongi stood in awe, eyes wide, looking all around him, up, down, left, right.

“Y/n this is…..”

“Beautiful isn’t it?” you smiled taking a deep breath, feeling the oxygen enter your lungs.

“Stunning.” said Yoongi still in shock “It’s absolutely stunning.”

But his expression quickly changed to one of worry. “But I’m not allowed to leave my room right? You aren’t breaking any rules for me are you-”

“No you idiot, I had those stupid rules changed for you. You are free to come here whenever you wish now.”

“You’re kidding.” he said quite not believing you.

“No I’m serious.” you walked ahead standing at the center of green. “You, Min Yoongi of room 613, are now free to walk anywhere in the institute, at any given time, with no one to stop you.”

“Y/n that’s….that’s really nice of you.” he smiled at you gratefully before he looked up at the small signs of freedom above him. “You honestly have no idea how long it has been since I’ve seen the sky.”

The next few days you got the incredible opportunity to see an absolutely childish and idiotic Yoongi. He was a different kind of happy when he was outside as though he had never stepped out of his house ever before. He sometimes would grin widely watching the butterflies, sometimes take a quiet walk on the stone path. On some days he slept on the bench there at night looking at the stars and on some days you found him in the library asleep over a book. Everyday he was doing something different that you were beginning to find incredibly cute. The change in his character was drastic but only before you.

He never interacted or talked to anyone else, never ate with anyone but you in the four walls of his room. This side of the Yoongi was your personal viewing pleasure. But whatever it was, Min Yoongi was much happier these days and it made you inexplicably joyful too.

Even as he was sitting on the couch now, flipping through the channels of the television, he was light-hearted and humming some random 90′s song. There was no way you would have believed Yoongi could be someone like this, two weeks ago.

Yet you still hadn’t managed to figure out what the his side of the story behind his burnt house was. But with every passing day, the more you saw his new side, you grew more and more certain that what Jin’s father told you couldn’t have been the entire story. There was more to it that you had to find out and seeing how things were going now, you were sure you could manage to get it out of him within a few days.

You were sitting down next to him, busy scrolling through an important research paper you had been reading on your laptop, when he looked at you like the scene in the movie suddenly reminded him of something.

“Y/n…”

“hmm.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a long time now.”

“hmm.” you mummered not really paying any attention.

”Marco.” He said calling out to you.

”Polo.” you replied absent mindedly.

”Y/nnnn…” he dragged his voice finally annoying your ear drums.

“What Yoongi?” you raised your head and looked at urging him to hurry because you had work to do

“Your tattoo, what does it mean?”

“My tattoo?” you raised your eyebrows not quite understanding. “What tattoo-”

You stopped, your eyes widening at the realization. You had only one tattoo and it was at a place Yoongi shouldn’t be able to see. You immediately placed your hands behind you on your lower back and shot him a questioning look. “Wh-what tattoo?”

“The one you are covering.” he said pointing to you. “The word that’s written there. What does it mean?”

You got up quickly, moving a little away from him. “You saw it? Ho- When?”

A pink color rose on Yoongi’s cheeks, who bit his lip like he forgot he wasn’t supposed to be able to see it.

“Uh a few days after I got here….”

“But how? My shirt should cover it. I..” you pulled your shirt further down awkwardly. You could tell Yoongi was awkward about this too.

“It sort of uh…” he said looking around at everything but you. “When you lift your hands above your head, your shirt goes up and…”

“Really?” you frowned curiously at his revelation. You walked to stand before the mirror with your back faced to it and raised your hands holding them above your head, looking over your shoulder. He was right. You could see the inverted letters of the tattoo you had gotten on the skin just above the line of your low waisted jeans many many years ago.

H I R A E T H

Yoongi was looking at you intently through the mirror, and you quickly put your hands down, rubbing them with no reason at all.

“Um…It’s a Welsh word.”

“Welsh?” he asked surprised and you nodded slowly.

“It means….a homesickness. For a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was one…” you trailed away, not wanting to remember your past. Yoongi straightened looking guilty.

“I’m sorry I asked. I should hav-”

“No no it’s fine.” You said, staring at you feet trying not to let tears form.

Yoongi knew it wasn’t. “Hey Y/n.” He walked up to you, gently raised your chin so you would look at him. His expression was soft, comforting. “Don’t think about it if it doesn’t make you feel good. Somethings are better forgotten.” He held your hand, urging you to walk back to where you were working so you could resume it, putting all your troubles behind. You didn’t let yourself move.

“Family isn’t something easily forgotten Yoongi. No matter who they are, where they are, what they did, they will always be a part of who we are regardless of whether we want it or not. How long and how far can we run away from this fact? ”

He didn’t say anything in reply. But you knew you were going the right way. If you were to get Yoongi to talk about himself, the only way to do that would be to open up to him first. No matter how hard it was for you to talk about it, if it meant Yoongi would respond, you had to give it a try.

“My family hated that I wanted to be an Alleviator. It was a childhood dream of mine, something they should’ve understood and encouraged me for. As a kid. I always read books, articles, journals about it, wanting to help the troubled people out there that the world so carelessly shunned. But I never realized that my family was a part of that world too. I never realized that my parents never took me seriously, thinking my obsession was just a phase that would pass by soon. I never realized that my choice to want to do something good for the society would tear my family apart.” you gripped his hand which was holding yours tighter, your voice getting stuck in your throat.

“They were ashamed of me. My parents, my brothers, my sister. Ashamed that I wanted to associate myself with people they considered abnormal. I tried to make them understand that deciding how many fragments a person is made of, is not a personal choice, that fragmented people were in no way to blame for their condition. Just because normal people couldn’t handle their altered abilities, it didn’t mean they had to be cast away like this. My parents refused to hear me out. They said only those who were incapable of finding decent jobs would resort to a career as pathetic as the one of an Alleviator and that I was an intelligent kid who should pursue something better.” you tried your best to control yourself. You didn’t want to break down in front of Yoongi again.

“But I was at the peak of my teenage back then and hated them for thinking like that. Filled with the same stubbornness they exhibited, I refused to be dictated by their views and they kicked me out, denying my existence. I left them behind, denying theirs. I took up a part time job, earned my own money to pay for my college, studied hard and came to a position where I became one of the most well known Alleviators in the city. For the past 8 years of my life I told myself that I took the right decision, that there was nothing I regretted, but honestly Yoongi I don’t know. Every time I sit to eat my food alone, every time something funny happens and I have no siblings with me to share it with, every time I have a bad day and I remember how I used to get comfort from my mum, I don’t know any more. I don’t know how far I was right to go against them and do this but I do know, that whenever I turned and looked back at my life, they would be there. Part of me still wants to be acknowledged by them, understood by them. Part of me still blames me for walking away instead of getting them to see things my way and understand my perspective. Part of me will always hate myself for it, Because I love them Yoongi. I always have.”

Tears were splashing down your face now. You burned a hole in the ground with your vision, hoping Yoongi wouldn’t see them.

“When I got my first salary as an Alleviator, I wanted it to leave a mark that I needed, as a memoir. That was why I got this tattoo with that money, specifically at a place where I couldn’t see it, but knew it was always there so it would stay as a reminder of the certain things I could never run away from despite trying to.”

You blinked your tears away finally looking at Yoongi who didn’t do anything like pulling you into his embrace or wiping your tears. He simply stood before you, still holding your hand, tracing circles on your skin with his thumb. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. As much as you wanted Yoongi to talk, this sort of comfort was what you needed for the last 8 years. You didn’t want to let it go now.

The two of you stood like that, staring at where your hands met for too long. Yoongi didn’t let you go and neither did you want to. But once the alleviator in your mind started working straight again you looked up at him, tugging his hand to make him look at you.

“It’s your turn to show me.” you told him as he frowned puzzled.

“I wish, but I don’t have any tattoos Y/n.”

“But you have something that is no different from it.”

“What are you talking about?”

You gulped, gathering the courage to say what you were thinking, finally playing your cards. You saw this the first day you met him and you knew this was an important piece of the story you were behind. You wanted to know now.

“Your scars.”

You hardly finished saying it when Yoongi’s hand left you and he took a step back.

“Y/n….”

“Why are you afraid to open up to me Yoongi? You talk to me about hundreds of irrelevant things in the world but never yourself. Why do you shut yourself in a way I can never reach you? Is it me or is it you? Which of us is the problem Yoongi?”

He remained silent as usual, running his hands through his hair.

“Talk to me Yoongi.” you could feel the desperation in your voice as you tried to get him to look at you. “If you don’t trust me then it’s fine, you don’t have to-”

You were cut short by the suddenness of his actions. Holding the hem of his shirt, he raised up his lean body and over his head, casting it aside with a flick. You stared with eyes wide open, mouth hanging a little at the pale, lean, not so muscular sculpt standing before you.

“I trust you.”

And those three words stirred things in you that you didn’t know existed. He had stripped out of more than his shirt. He had stripped out of his defenses. Yoongi took a deep breath finally preparing himself to tell you the things you’ve been wanting to hear.

“Every Sunday right before we left for the church at 12, my father used to….” he shoved his shaking hands in his pocket. “ He used to whip me.”

You felt like someone reached for your heart and ripped it apart. You were right. They were whip marks. But by his father? That wasn’t what you had been expecting. You faintly remembered the other day when you entered his room earlier than you were supposed to at 12 and you found him frightened to death, begging you to save him. That day was a Sunday.

“These scars were my lessons. Lessons to teach me to control myself so he could pretend to the world that I was a one frag. Ever since my father found out back when I was 6 that I was fragmented, I was confined to the room in the basement of my house. He told everyone that I had developed some sort of skin allergy because of which it wasn’t safe for me to leave home and roam around like other children did. But once a week he was forced to bring me out in the open because he was an extremely religious man. For him not going to the church was equivalent to sinning and so on Sundays, the church was one place I couldn’t be hidden from. I, for my whole life, thought he loved me and was trying to protect me and my family from the danger that exists in every inch of me by doing all this. I took all his anger, frustration, irritation silently as scars because I thought it was for my good but-”

His voice broke as he took a deep breath to compose himself.

“He was ashamed of me. These scars were not a result of love, they were marks of shame. It was his way of teaching me to hate myself, telling me that I was an unwanted, abnormal thing in their perfectly sane existence. It was to teach me to keep control over myself and never let others know that I was fragmented so he didn’t have to face the shame of bearing a fragmented child. I thought all those days I spent locked up in the basement were to keep me away from the world I thought was too dangerous. I didn’t realize I was the dangerous one. I didn’t know that. Not until before I came here. Not until I….”

He stopped and you didn’t urge him to continue. You had heard enough. What he was saying was already too much for you to handle. You mentally insulted yourself for laughing at his childish antics everyday. You didn’t know Min Yoongi never had a childhood. Shut in the basement locked away from civilization, not allowed to see the sun, not allowed to play with the kids of his age, not allowed to make friends, he never saw the world like you did. Rather all he got was hate, scorn and disgust and your heart ached for him. You didn’t know how, despite all this, he managed to remain so sane.

You walked around him, facing his bare back, running your fingers across the deep red colored lines, stark against his pale skin. Feeling his years of pain buried deep in the scars, your every touch wanted to ease him of it. Physical pain, emotional pain, every pain. You wanted to free him from his every misery. He tensed under the kind of contact that was foreign to him, eyes meeting yours in the mirror before him.

“Do they scare you?” his voice came out soft, uncertain.

“No of course not.” you replied like it was a matter of fact. “In fact, they make me proud of you Yoongi. For being so brave and strong on the inside to endure this.”

He turned at your words surprised, somehow the two of your faces incredibly close. “They don’t make you want to leave?”

As you looked into his eyes and what they were trying to tell you, it was only then you realized why Yoongi had never opened up to you. Never in his life had he met someone who bothered about him the way you did, even if it meant you were doing it for professional reasons. He was afraid his past would scare you away. Afraid of what you would think about it. Afraid of how you would react. Afraid you would leave him?

“No.” you shook your head confidently. “No, they don’t.”

And for a minute the both of you said nothing, only burning each other under the fire of the intensity of your gazes, feeling the days of ignored, unsaid and ever so present tension that was between you finally reaching it’s peak. Resting his hand below your ear, his thumb caressed your cheek as your breaths mingled. His eyes ran along every feature or your face as he studied it intently, searching for something - permission, approval, anything. Raising yourself on your toes a little to match his height, the suspense between you lingered like awkward unsaid words, before he finally let out a barely audible something and kissed you, making the world fall apart and fall away.

It was soft, subtle, gentle. Not too rushed, Not too slow. His hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer desperately until there was no space left in between and you could feel the racing of his heart against your chest. The two of you were no more than bodies aligned and you couldn’t help but think how different this proximity was compared to the last time you were this close to him. His touch was so different, his hands shaking a little as they felt the curve of your body beneath it. And his kiss? It was a kiss that obliterated your every thought. A kiss like this was a beginning, a promise of much more to come. So many things that were starting scare you away from him and drag you towards him, both are once.

But he detached himself from your lips and you felt his cheek slightly press against yours as he whispered in your ear, his voice shivering, his breaths the most audible.

“Don’t leave Y/n….”

Immediately shaking your head at his words, you hooked your fingers in the front pockets of his pants, scared of losing the minimal distance between the two of you.

“I won’t.”

And you felt relief run in his body as he kissed you again, your body going rigid with the euphoric warmth that blossomed within you once more. He peppered you with gentle, soft kisses, each with its own flicker of warmth. There was nothing hungry, nothing demanding, about the way he was handling you. He had you in his hands like a porcelain doll and he was taking his own time, savoring your lips and the quickening of your breath under his gentle yet firm grip. Walking you back with an arm not so loosely around you till his other hand pressed against the wall for support, he stopped as your body arched against his and he only just tilted his head, deepening the kiss when a knock on the door caused you both to jump apart, losing every contact with each other.

Yoongi flushed looking at you, and quickly walked across the room to grab his discarded shirt and pulled it over his head while you smoothed your clothes, adjusted your hair though they were neat as ever, and opened the door. A guard poked his head in, “Allev, chief is looking for you. Urgent, he says.”

You looked at Yoongi who was curiously glancing at your interaction.

“I’ll be back.” you said to him and stepped out of the room hurrying towards the chiefs office without even completely noticing the changed look on the now alone man’s face. Throughout the way though, you couldn’t help but get a strange bad feeling about what was going to happen. You had only just told Yoongi that you wouldn’t leave him to abandon him seconds later and it was making you uneasy.

Knocking and opening the door of the office, you greeted your chief pleasantly.

“You called Chief?”

“Yes Allev.” Your chief looked at you solemnly from behind his desk. “I have been asked to inform you that the military has been observing your progress with patient Yoongi.“ You tensed. The deadline. You had completely forgotten about it with how things have been the past few days. “It seems they have acknowledged your failure in this letter, with orders for what is to be done with the patient.”

He got up handing you a letter you were too petrified to take.

“I’m sorry to inform you Allev, but Min Yoongi has to leave the institute and move to the military base.”

He looked at you hoping you would understand. You didn’t.

“Right now.”

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