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kkusuka · 3 years

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I’m so proud I’ve been here long before 2k💁🏼‍♀️ N E WAY CONGRATSSSSS!!!

Can I have fluff 16 with a twist tho, like “My ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years being single and hunting down weird things most people can’t even see." with Gojou, Fushiguro, Itadori and a fem reader? If 3 characters are way to many you can keep only Gojou. Keep being amazinggg<3

thank you so much!! <3

Gn!Pronouns, but you are implied to be female!

Cw: an itsy bitsy hint of angst, slight confessions, reader panics,

a/n: these were almost criminally fun to write, I love these three so much

Gojou Satoru

Words: 700

You had no idea how a simple piece of paper could make you feel. Awkward, confusion, shock, all from one note that you thought was a bill.

‘Y/n L/n save the date!’ was the last thing you had expected, from your ex-boyfriend nonetheless. The same guy who dated you for a whole three years before telling you over text that it wasn’t going to work out.

Well, the both of you never had a bad relationship after, but you were a severe level of butthurt. But what made you really freeze was the plus one invitation, if you showed up to your ex’s wedding you would look like a loser.

Since you were clearly going, you’d never miss on free food and a chance to have a day off, you needed an outfit and a date. The outfit was pretty easy to figure out, you’d go shopping on the weekend and buy something then.

But someone to go with? You had about three friends whom you knew could not afford any days off and that you just didn't want to take. (at least you had some last resorts) Then, another problem, if they weren’t part of the Jujutsu world it would be harder to explain if you had to abruptly leave, which was a huge possibility this time of year.

With that, your options were cut down to two- Nanami and...Gojou, of all people.

Obviously, you tried, emphasis on tried, Nanami first. But after 24 missed calls and a 15-second conversation where he basically told you to shove it, you were in full-on panic mode. The wedding was in three days and you had to do something about your inevitable loneliness.

You had to get over yourself, the worst Gojo could do was make fun of you or say no. But, he never passes up the opportunity for sweets, just lay on the dessert y/n!

“To what do I owe this sweet phone call Y/n? Confessing your love for yours truly?” his voice laughed through the line. You just had to ask him in a way that would compel him to want to come with you.

“My ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years being single and hunting down weird things most people can’t even see." you blurt not even thinking about the words falling from your lips.

You come to realize your words from the ringing silence in your ears, “I’m sorry I just-”

“I’ll come” he answered, cutting off your apologies. He’ll come, you didn't even have to say anything about sugar or bribe him into coming.

“You’ll come? Really? Why-wait Thank you! It’s on Saturday at 3 pm, we can go together if that makes things better! Thank you so much, you just saved me Gojo! How can I make it up to you!” you were just spouting whatever you could to thank him, listening to his daughter from his side.

“Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with my little Sugar? You can make it up to me by wearing your prettiest little dress so we’ll be the hottest couple at the wedding.” he teased, continuing ranting about how you should match colors to add ‘flare’.

“While we’re there we can start planning our own wedding! Doesn’t that sound fun Sugar!”

Fushiguro Megumi

Words: 700

“What even is that” Megumi’s voice rang through the office hallway. You’d like to know too, you haven’t spoken to anyone from your hometown, save for our family, since you moved away six years ago.

“I’m not totally sure, you want to open it with me?” you question opening the door to your office as he silently follows you in.

Settling the rest of the mail down, you take a closer look at the suspicious envelope noticing the name on the return address. There's no way! Why the hell was your ex sending you things to your official workspace?

“What’s wrong? Is it bad?” Megumi doesn't know what to do, your face went pale and you looked super confused.

“Oh, nothing really. I’m just surprised, it’s from my ex” well now he was frozen, was it a love letter? Why was he sending you stuff, he just hoped that it wasn't bad, you had enough on your plate and you didn’t need more.

Opening the envelope to see flower patterns and script lettering; you know exactly what this letter will be telling you. Just as you suspect a date plastered on the card along with two all familiar names flood your senses.

“He’s getting married!” you couldn't believe it, why would he invite his high school ex to his wedding, it was an odd choice, to say the least.

“That’s cool I guess, anyway I gotta go, have fun,” he murmured leaving the room and letting to wonder if you were even going to show up in the first place, but at the moment you send an email and reserve a spot for yourself and admittedly a plus one that didn’t exist.

You would figure it out in due time!

❍❍❍

You did not figure anything out and the wedding was tomorrow. No one in their right mind would drop everything to come to some random wedding. Your point proved when Itadori explained he had plans to go see a movie marathon with Jumpei that he just couldn’t cancel.

Not even Nobara would spare you some mercy, she and Maki were having a pre-planned girls' day, one that you would be going to if you hadn't agreed to go to some random wedding.

Now you could only pray that Mehgumi felt enough pity that he would go with you. Deciding that a call would be too impersonal and would be easier to say no over, you make your way to his apartment with a box of dumplings that you knew he loved.

“Gumi-chan? Open up please!” you knocked on the door waiting for him to come, him appearing a few seconds later; hair messy in sweatpants and a black tank-top. No- this isn’t about his body, it could be, but you had to get this settled first.

“Uh? Did I miss something? Why are you here?” his questions break you from your stare as you shove the food in his arms, gathering all the courage you could muster.

“These are for you and all you need to do is hear me out, please? I would really like you too!” you beg, watching as he silently commanded for you to continue.

“As you know, my ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years being single and hunting down weird things most people can’t even see." you kept your head low as you explained to him what had happened, “I really need you to do this for me, I'll give you anything I swear! Just help me this once!”

“Why do you need me?” he mumbled, commanding your attention back onto his face.

“Because it’ll be fun and you need to get out.” ‘and this is my way of asking you out but not asking you at the same time’ goes unsaid.

“Fine, but you have to come to dinner with me the next time my dad asks.” that was it you, ultimatum, an easy one too.

“Deal! Now we have to match or it’ll look stupid, and we have to practice dancing and-”

“Dear Lord, what did I get into”

Itadori Yuji

Words: 600

You’d pinned the invitation above your bed as a constant reminder that you had to do something.

Not that you cared what your ex thought of you at their wedding, but something deep inside wanted to show him that you were happy without him.

And the only way to do that was to shove a hot guy down his throat; better yet, a totally hot guy that was into you. Now all you needed was a hot guy to be into you.

Well, you had a hot guy to go with you. In a desperate plea, you had asked your good friend Itadori, formally known as the vessel of another somewhat friend Sukuna, and he had agreed.

Just thinking about it made you cringe a bit; you had been freaking out and ran to his apartment, drenched in rain.

“My ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years being single and hunting down weird things most people can’t even see," you explained frantically, waving your hands. Watching his face contort into every human emotion you could think of, before spreading into a smile.

“Of course I’ll come with you! It sounds like a blast!” of course Sukuna had a few choice words to say about that, something along the lines of, ‘you're not dragging me to some stupid event because you're lonely! I refuse!”

And he continued to complain throughout the night of planning and the next morning when you told him he was going whether he wanted to or not and he told you he’d rather die.

“This Wench will not dictate my life!” he spoke through a mouth on Yuji’s cheek, eye slit glaring in your direction.

“And I’m not letting some lame demon tell me what I can and can’t do with my friend!” you argued back.

But he didn't have a say anyway.

Now you were standing before a mirror, admiring how your dress wrapped around your body, waiting for Itadori to come to the door.

Hearing the knocks on your door, you grab a small bag and your invitations and your plus one, opening the door to Yuji in a three-piece black suit, staring at you with wide eyes.

“You look great-”

“You look crazy beautiful-”

Both of you freeze at the word mix-up, then breaking into laughter as you loop your arm through his outstretched one.

“Seriously you look great, y/n. You have that guy wishing he’d never let you go! Wait then you wouldn’t be with me, so just make him miss you a bit but not too much!” he stammered out as you continued your way to his car.

“You are the worst two humans in existence.”

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

Text

Let Me Love You.

CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader AU.

Run-through: Things happened between you and your boss over a weekend recently; while on a business trip. Boundaries were crossed, lines were blurred – rather salaciously. Following this; you decide to resign from your dream job because you couldn’t handle the guilt of having been so unethical. So vulnerable and open. Neither could you handle his burning stare at work, nor the craving of being under him each time you looked at him. So you decide to leave before you ruin your own career and further. But then, your boss shows up at your doorstep – determined to make you realize that this isn’t so bad after all…

Themes: smut, fluff, ceo!bucky (because I miss him)

You felt awful as you stepped into your apartment.

Sighing as you looked around; thinking about how the job you just quit had paid for this lavish home you owned currently. Removing your shoes by the door, dropping your bag and keys beside them you lazily crossed your spacious living room and stepped into the main balcony.

Given you were high up, the view you had of the city was to die for. The sun was going down, and usually you loved sunsets but you couldn’t appreciate this one as much as you wanted to. You were stressed; now jobless.

You thought back to the past week you had just hustled through. Monday was weird; he avoided you like the plague. Tuesday was the same, except you caught him staring in your direction while in a rather important meeting. Wednesday, he still didn’t say a word – except for his usual demands which being his PA you had to meet. Thursday he didn’t come to work; which then gave you more time to think about everything which happened recently, allowing you more time to feel guilty and weird.

And today, given it was Friday he was the busiest he’s been all week. Yet despite that, he managed to send you looks which spoke volumes even in crowded rooms. And you couldn’t take it anymore. You believed you were someone who wouldn’t be able to mix work and pleasure and find a healthy balance, so for the sake of your own peace of mind; you produced a resignation letter and placed it on his desk when he wasn’t in his office. And you left for the day.

You knew he always lingered at his office for a while longer on Fridays. So you were sure that by now he must have found your letter. You wondered if he felt just as awkward and weird as you did, and if so, then he’d accept your resignation without any hesitation.

You sighed one more time, taking in the cool air and the orange-pinkish sky. You walked back inside and decided that soaking in warm water and essential oils would make you feel a little better. So that’s what you went for.

Thoughts of him filled your head as you soaked in the warm bath water. Your boss. James Buchanan Barnes; powerful name for an equally powerful man. He was the kind of person you couldn’t forget even if you tried. Respect, fame, wealth, authority, power; he had it all.

And recently, just a week ago, he had taken over you as well…

-Flashback-

Friday morning you came to work and found out that you would be accompanying your boss on a short business trip. You didn’t make a fuss, even if it meant sacrificing your days off. The paycheck you received each month made up perfectly well for it.

Paris for weekend, to attend a business conference didn’t sound so bad after all.

“Sir, I’ve just been notified that you’ve cancelled the hotel reservations?” you questioned while scrolling through your mails. While you were just a little confused by this, the man in front of you was clearly not.

Sat across you on the dark seat; well-groomed as always – dark suit, perfect hair, perfect face, strong jaw and strong built. He looked like he could be on a magazine cover. Pure, drop dead gorgeous male. Many of your friends often asked you how you kept your calm and composure around him, and how could you not want to jump his bones all the time. To which you answered; you didn’t see your handsome boss in that light.

But oh did you lie.

You were human. And you did find your boss to be super attractive just like the rest of the world did. But did you do anything about it? No. Firstly, that would be highly unprofessional. Secondly, he was way out of your league. Still, it was hard being around a man this handsome. Knowing he was single and available made it worse.

“I did.” he answered, just as confidently as he did everything else. “It’s just one night, Y/N. We’ll stay at my penthouse.” He stated.

You nodded and replied back to your assistant who had initially emailed you about this sudden change. ‘We’ll stay at my penthouse’…

You had shared residence before. Once you spent the night at his mansion because of work load. Then another time you two shared a cabin while on a trip. Once you shared a hotel room because separate rooms weren’t available. But this, today seemed a little different. And you couldn’t place a finger on what it was.

It didn’t rub you the wrong way or anything. He just seemed so cheery, which was unlike the normally slightly grumpy man. But then again, who were you to question his decisions? So you went along.

You two landed in Paris on Saturday morning. The conference was to be held on the same evening, followed by a formal party of some sort, then the two of you would be making your way back home by Sunday evening. Quite a tame weekend… until it wasn’t.

Throughout the whole conference, you felt a pair of eyes staring at you from across the room. Meanwhile you were talking to an acquaintance – legal advisor of one of the many businessmen who were attending the same conference as your boss. Steve was a friend of a friend but you two were currently bonding more and more due to work.

And little did you know, that Bucky hated it.

He was watching. He’s always watching you. Not in a creepy manner, in a protective way. As a woman, you were somewhat oblivious to the effect you had on people when you entered a room. You never noticed it, but your boss did.

Bucky knew how every man turned their heads to look at you. How every woman envied you. And it was never about what you wore, or how you did your hair. It was always about how you carried yourself, how you walked so confidently, how you were always polite and proper. And so beautiful.

As much as he liked showing you off, Bucky hated it when he wasn’t the only one who had all your attention. Like right now. He clenched his jaw as he studied how this man approached you. Blonde hair, tall and muscular – Bucky hated him immediately. He hated him a little more after he saw how the guy hugged you; a lingering hug which Bucky never got. Then he hated him a little more when he saw how you dragged your hands down the guy’s arm, refusing to let go of him.

You never touched him like that. Bucky asked someone close by and he was told that the guy you were talking to was someone named Steve Rogers, and he was a lawyer and an acquaintance of yours.

Hmm.

He tried to look away but he couldn’t. Bucky envied the guy talking to you. He didn’t like how close he was standing to you. He didn’t like how he kept his hands at your elbows so gently, caging you, keeping you to himself. He hated it.

Then he asked you about it on the elevator, as you two made your way up to his penthouse to get changed and ready for the party later.

“You know Rogers?” he asked out of nowhere. His tone just as serious and cold as always.

“Yes. He’s… a friend.” You smiled innocently, thinking back to how you and Steve had successfully broken the ice earlier.

Silence.

You each took a room inside his lavish penthouse apartment. You immediately loved the place. You had about two hours before the party so there was no need to rush. You took your time, yet your mind couldn’t help but drift towards how your boss has been acting in the past hours. First he was all cheery and warm, and now he’s back to his grumpy self.

Oh well.

You stepped out of your room just in time, your boss was waiting by the foyer dressed in a signature, all black, 3-piece suit. He looked devilishly handsome.

“You look lovely, Y/N.” He said softly as you walked towards him. You couldn’t help but smile and tried to hide your face by looking down at the marble floor. Before you could recover from his rare compliment, he reached for your hand and walked the two of your towards the elevator again.

You noticed it then. The shift between the two of you.

The party was amazing. Lovely people, lovely music, nice conversations; what more does one need? Then again, you could still feel a pair of eyes on you. At some point, you dared to look up and you made eye contact with your boss.

He was staring with an unreadable expression on his face. You shook it off and went back to the conversation you were currently part of, but you could tell he hadn’t stopped staring at you.

You two met on the elevator again after the party, on your way up for the night.

“You and Rogers seem close.” He pointed out.

You were surprised at the tone he used – that of disgust and anger. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

He scoffed, then turned to you. “Is something going on between you two?” Same tone as before.

Your eyes widened. “No. No, what makes you say that?” part of you wondered why the hell was he so suddenly interested in your personal life.

“Just asking.”

You couldn’t help it. “Are you alright, Mr. Barnes? You haven’t been yourself in the past-,”

He cut you off abruptly. By backing you into the corner of the elevator, the cold metal pressing against your back as his warm hand held you gently at your waist.

“Am I alright?” he mocked in that authoritative voice of his. “No, Miss Y/N. I’m not alright.” He confessed. “I’m not alright with you being so close to me, yet not being able to touch you. I’m not alright with seeing other men making you smile,” he inched his face closer you yours, “making you laugh, dance with you, touch you like I can’t. I hate it.”

His warm breath fanned your face. And as the metal cage got higher and higher, your heartbeat increased in the same tempo. Racing. Rushing. Your thoughts were a mess. Your body was tingling, he was so close. Too close. And you could feel yourself giving into him already.

And you did eventually.

“Then what’s stopping you?” you asked in a whisper, and you heard his little chuckle under his breath. This could be a wrong idea, but it felt right. You looked up into his piercing stormy blue eyes and you saw it; the hunger, the desire, the need.

You were sure yours mirrored the same emotions. Bucky pulled away just for a second, to press the key to stop the elevator from moving upwards any further. Then he turned to you again. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered against your parted lips, barely touching them with his own but the proximity was enough to make you lightheaded.

You nodded quickly and his mouth was on yours immediately. His lips moved against yours perfectly. He slipped his tongue past your lips and stroked the top of your mouth, driving you crazy. His kiss was just how you imagined it would be; hot, passionate, and exciting.

Your hands found their way into his hair and your fingers ran through his soft locks. He pushed his muscular body into yours even more and you gasped as you felt how close he actually was. His body heat wrapping around you.

His hands slowly reached up and slid the straps of your satin gown down your shoulders, letting it fall and bunch around your waist. He had been wanting to do that all night, especially since he saw you dancing with that guy Steve.

Bucky smirked at the sight of the flimsy, lacy lingerie you had on; which he was sure he could tear off your body in less than a second. And he did, allowing the thin material to fall to the floor. He gently touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. His lips trailing down your neck; kissing, licking and biting.

His mouth didn’t leave your skin as his hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. His hand slipped into your underwear with no shame, his knuckles gently stroked your wet folds; making you shiver at his touch. He chuckled upon feeling just how aroused you were. “So perfect…” he whispered.

He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around as he went. You whimpered quietly against him; your gown barely covered your body. But Bucky was nowhere near complaining. In fact, he had been thinking about what you looked like under that dress since the first time he saw you this evening.

His hand gently wrapped around your throat. He gave it a little squeeze and an involuntary, playful smile formed on your face. His smirk grew, and so did the fire in him. “Like it when I choke you, huh doll?” he spoke, dragging the tip of his nose along your jaw as his other hand slipped under your skirt and rubbed your clothed core. He couldn’t take it any longer. “I need to have you.” he growled. “Now.”

He pushed his two fingers past your entrance with ease and moaned right in your ear as he felt your wet and warm walls immediately welcoming him in. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which made you weak in the knees. You bucked your hips against his hand involuntarily, and he chuckled as you moaned out loud while he touched you.

Feeling more confident than earlier, you quickly unbuttoned his pants, palming him through his underwear and feeling his erection. You smirked to yourself as he grunted the moment you touched him.

“I want you…” you mumbled breathlessly. All your worries and overthinking left behind, you wanted him bad. And that’s all you could think of at the moment.

Bucky smirked. He lowered his pants and underwear, then he hurried in pulling down your underwear, letting it all fall and pool around your ankles. You stepped out of it and Bucky picked you up by your thighs and kissed you deeply while holding you between him and the metal surface tightly.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms held on to him tightly. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you whimpered through the kiss. Bucky needed to be in you already, all he wanted was to hear you scream his name as you cum around him. So he wasted no time in aligning his throbbing tip to your dripping wet entrance.

He pushed himself into you; stretching you out. His nails digging into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours scratching at his shoulders as he filled you up; making you whine and moan as he went. You were both gasping by the time he filled you up entirely. His body didn’t feel as foreign as you expected. You two fit perfectly.

Bucky started rocking in and out of you, without wasting any time. You felt all of him; your walls clenched around his thick cock as he started out with slow strokes and then gradually sped up into you. You felt all of him, the bumpy and the velvety skin of his length. He was perfect as he stroked your walls with his pulsating cock. You were a moaning mess in no time.

His strong arms supported you up by grabbing you at the curve of your ass; holding you against him, as he sped up into you; showing you how much he missed you. He pushed his head into the crook of your neck and swore under his breath, all while occasionally mumbling how much he loves you and how good you feel wrapped around him.

He fucked you relentlessly; earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. Your hand slid into his hair and you tugged on it each time he pushed into you. You soon felt the familiar pressure forming; pressing inside you as the familiar warmth spread all over your body. You moaned wantonly.

Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure; your mind a foggy mess. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace; earning even more moans and mewls from you.

He pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust; it hurt just a little. Your body moved along with his like a rag doll. And you never complained once. You could hear the wet sounds that he caused and the sounds of your skin clapping against each other – it was all too sinful.

He moaned right into your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back like it always did no matter where he took you. Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace; pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher… and higher… and higher. Until you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock; screaming his name in the process.

And that was one of the many times he made you cum around him that night…

-End of flashback-

Fuck…

You shivered in the warm water at the thought of him deep inside you; how perfect he felt, and how you never wanted to leave that bed with him in it. But then, you thought about how wrong that was; how you shouldn’t have gotten so intimate and personal with your boss. It was wrong, and unethical and a terrible mistake. But it felt good…

Stepping out of your bathroom, wrapped in a soft robe, you felt chills all over your body. Not because of the temperature, but because it felt as though you suddenly weren’t alone in your home. You panicked for a moment. Your heart racing, your thoughts racing faster.

Then you sensed it.

Sensed him.

He was here.

“Miss Y/N.” He spoke in that damn voice which could make you drop to your knees in less than a second.

Yet you managed to maintain your composure as you slowly turned around to face him. Realization hit you a little late, and you gasped under your breath when you finally saw him standing in the middle of your bedroom. Your initial reaction was to hug your robe tighter around your body.

He looked flawless and powerful as always. Hands shoved in his pockets; accentuating his broad shoulders. That gorgeous smirk on his face. Flawless hair. Flawless face. Bucky smirked. “Oh don’t hide from me. I’ve seen it all, haven’t I?” he teased so effortlessly.

You felt your face getting hotter under his intense gaze. “How did you… how-,”

He cut off your rambling. “I own the building, doll.” he answered like it was the most obvious thing ever.

Right. Of course he owns your apartment building. He also owns half the city.

There was an air of arrogance around him at all times. And you tried so hard to hate it, but you couldn’t. It suited him; the arrogance, the power, the authority. And he sure knew how and when to use it.

You cleared your throat as you kept your eyes focused on the ground, rather than look into his stormy blues ones because they were a new weakness of yours. “You shouldn’t be here.” You mumbled, not hating that he was here.

He scoffed. “Oh?” he raised an eyebrow at you and took a few steps towards you. You were surprisingly not hysterical about the fact that this handsome man found his way into your home out of nowhere. He walked over to you, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him.

You had no other choice but to look up into his ocean blue eyes and you could feel yourself melting already. He pulled you closer and leaned in, gently kissing along your jaw repeatedly. You closed your eyes and tried your hardest not to sigh in pleasure or moan as you felt the softness of his lips and the roughness of his stubble altogether.

“I’ve missed you.” he whispered against your skin, stopping for a moment and kissed you at the corner of your mouth. His arms circled around you, holding you close to him. Your arms circled around him as well, slowly. You realized you had missed him as well. His warmth, his voice, his mouth. All of him.

And just like that, he took over your very being again. One touch of his lips and you were under his spell with no intention of making it out anytime soon. “I missed you too…” you whispered breathlessly as he kissed your lips gently.

But those few words from you triggered something in him. An irritation he had carried inside since he saw that letter of yours on his desk. Overflowing emotions he couldn’t handle; due to which he was here in the first place.

“Yeah?” he whispered through the kiss, then slide his hand into your hair and tugged on it to pull your face away from his. He clenched his jaw as he looked down at you. He was conflicted, should he be mad that you even dared to think you could just leave him, or should he just fuck some sense into you? “Yet you dared to leave me your resignation with no warning?” Oh. “Huh? Is that how it is now, you think you get to decide everything?”

Oh. So he was mad.

“I didn’t mean-,”

He kept going. “Shut up, babygirl.” He spoke softly. “Now you listen to me,” he inched closer, gently biting your lower lip, “You’re not leaving me. You’re not resigning. You’re not going anywhere.” He stated, then pulled away to look at you again.

There was a fire in his deep blue eyes. “We can’t keep doing this.” You tried to come up with something. An excuse. You were looking for an excuse.

“Why not?”

“It’s wrong.”

He scoffed and then smirked again. “Is it? Does being with me feel so wrong to you now, huh?” he cooed, knowing it was only a matter of another minute or two before you give into him. “That wasn’t the case this past weekend, was it?” He moved the two of you backwards, towards your bed in the middle of the room.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him for too long now. But you still tried, in vain. You sighed loudly, wrapped in his strong embrace. “You’re my boss.”

He chuckled. “I know that.”

“Exactly.”

“What?” he questioned, already untying your robe as he stopped at the end of your bed.

“You know what. How are we supposed to be professional at work if we’re sleeping together?” you asked.

He smirked looking down at you. “Then let’s not be professional.”

You sighed again. “It’s-,”

He cut you off with a kiss again, sliding your robe down your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. “Shh.” And just like that, you melted under his touch. “It’s okay babygirl, let me take care of you.”

He pushed you down on your bed and held your stare as he undressed himself; smirking as he watched how you grew more and more desperate with each item of clothing he took off. He hovered on top of you in no time.

Bucky lowered his face; pressing his forehead onto yours gently, while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You moaned out loud as he did. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and he gave you a couple of seconds to adjust.

“Fuck…”

You were so full of his thick cock that even forming a proper thought seemed impossible at the moment. You shuddered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, attempting to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours.

He removed himself and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to adjust to his size. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear. You heard him panting and swearing under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you.

“Thought you could just leave me, huh? Thought I would let you?” he mumbled right in your ear as he fucked you relentlessly. “You thought I would let you go? Let someone else touch you, pleasure you, fuck you like this? Did you babygirl?” he growled. “Answer me!”

You whined, throwing your head back and moaning at how good he felt. “No… please I didn’t-” you were breathless. You tried matching his thrusts but were unable to; so you simply let go. Your body moved against his like a rag doll.

He growled at how your walls clenched around him. “What? You didn’t what? You didn’t think I’d come back looking for you? You thought I would just let you go because you asked for it?” he accidentally let out a moan, followed by swear words. “You think you make the rules here, doll?”

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His blue eyes were wild and fierce; staring deep into your soul. His gaze made you tremble in pleasure. He looked so powerful. Broad and strong, hovering above you, his cock buried deep in you. Looking down at you like he owned you.

He kissed you, bit your skin, kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you; and you never complained once. Given his size, he stretched you out completely. And it did hurt, but the pleasure compensated for the pain.

Your legs trembled as you lifted them up to wrap them around his waist. This allowed him to thrust deeper into you, and in the haze he was in, he managed to mumble right in your ear about how good you felt. He was relentless, as though each moan, each mewl which left your lips only encouraged him to get more and more rough.

At some point, right when your walls started clenching around him and when you were just about to come undone; he removed himself from you and flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips. He kissed the back of your neck and pushed himself inside you again. You felt his hard body press against the curve of your ass as he filled you up again.

You moaned out loud at the new sensation of him rocking into you from behind. Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the thrill each time he felt himself thrusting deep within you.

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he bent down to whisper in your ear, “Can you feel me deep within you?” he boasted as he gently squeezed the side of your throat. But hard enough to make you lose your mind.

“Please…” You could only moan and whimper in response while he kept pounding into you incessantly. You felt him quicken his pace as he chased his own orgasm. And finally he let you, and you came undone all around him – moaning his name out loud.

You woke up an hour later, the sky was darker and you felt a lot better than you had all week. You turned to your side and found your handsome boss passed out next to you. A smile formed on your face involuntarily.

“Don’t just look, you can touch too.” His gruff voice spoke up a second later, his eyes still closed. You chuckled and snuggled closer to him.

“So what now?” you asked, wrapping an arm around his bare torso. His body heat was something you were quickly getting used to.

He took a deep breath, smiled and lazily reached over to place a kiss on your forehead. “Now you let me love you.”

#ceo!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #marvel au

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momsopposed2theoccult · 3 years

Text

A Very Special Night

Hey everybody! Here’s a quick oneshot I wrote where Toph and Su help Lin get ready for her school dance, because we deserve more happy Beifongs and Lin getting the love and support from her family that she was denied in canon. Enjoy!

“So, are you nervous? You must be nervous, you’re not eating.”

Lin looked up from her plate at her sister’s words. It was true, she was nervous. Her dinner lay untouched on her plate, as her stomach was in knots.

“Eat up, baby girl. You can’t dance on an empty stomach. Well, I suppose you can, but you shouldn’t,” her mother chimed in.

“No, no, I’m not nervous. I’m just… excited, that’s all!,” she lied, something her mother picked up on immediately.

Toph’s expression shifted into one of concern.

“What’s wrong, Linny? This is a big night, you should be over the moon right now,” she wondered.

It was true, tonight was a big night. When her school at first announced that they were going to be hosting a formal, Lin decided right away that she would not be attending. She was a horrible dancer, not to mention socially awkward, and she didn’t know the first thing about getting dressed up. It wasn’t until one of her oldest and quite frankly only friends, Tenzin, had decided that he wanted to go and as his best friend she was obligated to go with him was she convinced to buy a ticket.

Lin wasn’t sure why she felt like her heart was gonna beat out of her chest when he asked her to go with him. It wasn’t like it was a date or anything. She had known Tenzin forever. This was just a friend thing, she repeated over and over again in her head, although the mantra didn’t do much to rest her fast beating heart.

“Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

“Promise,” Toph and Su assured her.

“Well, I have a dress and shoes and everything, but I’m still not really sure how I’m going to do my hair and makeup. You know I’m not good at that stuff,” she confessed, blushing.

Su perked up. “Oh, that’s easy! I can do it for you, I’m great at that stuff!”

It was true. Su had always had a keen and stylish eye that her visually challenged mother and dorky sister lacked. Maybe Lin should have felt embarrassed that her ten year old kid sister knew more about these things than herself, a girl of fifteen, but she was honestly just grateful for her help.

“Here, I can do it right now no problem,” Su offered. The sisters got up from the table and began to make their way upstairs.

“Hey, girls! Aren’t you gonna finish your dinner?,” Toph called out.

“Yeah, yeah, we will in a bit. But this is more important!,” Su shouted back from the top of the staircase.

The girls made their way to the bathroom, where Su sat Lin down on the closed toilet seat. She pulled out a hairbrush and assorted hair elastics and then plopped herself down on the edge of the bathtub behind her sister.

“So, you and Tenzin?,” she asked suggestively as she brushed out Lin’s hair.

Lin began to blush. “What about me and Tenzin?”

“Is this a date?”

Lin’s face lit up bright red. “Wh- what? No- no we’re just friends. We’re going to the dance as friends. Not a date. Why would I be going on a date with Tenzin?”

“Because you have a huge crush on him?,” Su said knowingly, as if this should have been obvious.

“No! No I don’t! Who told you that anyways?”

Su rolled her eyes. “Nobody told me, silly! I figured it out myself. You make it pretty obvious, you know.”

“No I do not! I do not make it obvious because I do not have a crush on Tenzin!”

Su sighed. It appeared she was going to have to bring in the big guns.

“Hey Mom! Does Lin have a crush on Tenzin?,” she shouted down to Toph in the kitchen.

“Su! What are you doing?,” Lin asked her sister angrily, a warning tone in her voice.

Toph laughed. “Well duh! She’s had a crush on him since she was like, what? Five? Six?”

Lin’s face was growing redder by the minute. “Mom! Why would you say that? I. Do. Not. Have. A. Crush. On. Tenzin.”

“Sorry baby girl. Deny it all you want, but your heartbeat always goes crazy for that airhead. Don’t worry, he likes you back,” Toph called up to them from the kitchen.

“What?,” Lin shrieked, although she couldn’t deny that she didn’t entirely hate the idea. She more than just not hated it. She actually… well she could actually get used to the idea. Tenzin having a crush on her.

Su giggled. “Keep still, I’m trying to do your makeup. Unless you want me to poke you in the eye with this thing,” she joked, waving the mascara wand in front of her face.

Lin rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I would mind having my eyes poked out right about now. And maybe gag me with a spoon while you’re at it.”

Five minutes and lots of eye goop later, Lin had been transformed into a thing of beauty. That’s not to say that she wasn’t already beautiful as she was, but it wasn’t as if Lin put a ton of effort into her appearance on a daily basis. She told herself that it was because she had more important things to worry about, but in reality it was mostly because she always felt as if she couldn’t really pull it off.

“Here! All done! You look absolutely gorgeous, Tenzin is going to love it,” Su told her with pride.

Lin took a look at herself in the mirror. Her sister hadn’t been lying. Her dark hair was done up in a low bun at the base of her neck with a braided crown circling her head. A blue lotus blossom poked out from behind her ear to match the shade of the shadow on her eyes. Her lips were glossy, and her cheeks blushed a faint pink.

She looked fantastic.

“Wow, Su. I don’t even know what to say. Thank you.”

“My pleasure!,” she replied with a smile.

“I’m gonna go put on my dress. How about you go downstairs and help Mom figure out the camera?”

Su gasped audibly as Lin emerged from the top of the stairs several minutes later. Her beautiful blue qipao dress perfectly matched the flower tucked behind her ear, and it made her look and feel like a star.

“How do I look?,” she asked nervously.

“Wow, Lin. You look amazing!,” Su exclaimed.

Toph walked up to where her daughter was standing and cupped her face with her hands, tracing her features softly with the tips of her fingers. She had to reach up and pull her face down to her level, as Lin had undergone quite the growth spurt within the past few years and had shot up well above her chronically short mother.

“Gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.”

Toph began to tear up a little. “I can’t believe my baby girl is all grown up. Where does the time go? It feels like just yesterday I was holding you in my arms for the very first time.”

“Yeah baby girl, where does the time go?,” Su repeated in a light mocking tone, although there was no real malice behind it.

“You’re growing up too, little miss beauty parlour,” Lin reminded her sister with a laugh, but she was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. All of a sudden, the nerves she had been keeping at bay all came flooding back to her.

“He’s here! Okay, you guys cannot embarrass me.”

Toph threw up her hands defensively. “We wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Mom, that means you can’t try and interrogate him like he’s some criminal. And Su, if you mention anything about this being a date or how I have a crush on him, I’m going to have to kill you later,” she warned her family.

“Got it. Scout’s honour,” Toph swore.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Su agreed reluctantly.

Lin took a deep breath and opened up the door.

“Wow, you look fantastic!,” Tenzin exclaimed, blushing.

Lin began to blush herself. Tenzin had gotten pretty dressed up. She was surprised to see him in a suit, normally he wouldn’t be caught dead in one unless his parents forced him to.

“You look pretty good yourself,” she complimented him.

Su waggled her eyebrows suggestively behind Tenzin’s back, and Lin shot her a warning look.

“So, Tenz. Bring my daughter home in one piece, will ya? We kind of like her around here.”

“Oh yeah, of course Aunt Toph!”

Toph raised one eyebrow at him.

“Oh- uhhh- I mean- uhhhh- yes. Yes ma’am. I will do that,” he stammered.

“Good man,” Toph validated him with a nod of her head, apparently unable to resist an opportunity to take a power trip.

“Let’s take pictures, and then you guys can go have your fun,” Su giggled.

Lin rolled her eyes at her sister, but obliged to take a few cheesy photos of her and Tenzin posing together.

“Alright, we better get going or we’re going to be late,” Tenzin warned.

“Right. Okay, I’ll see you in a few hours, bye!,” she said, waving goodbye to her mother and sister.

“Have fun, kiddo! Don’t spike any punch, at least not without me there to make fun of the aftermath!”

“Bye Lin! Bye Tenzin! Have fun on your date!,” Su called out as the door slammed shut.

Lin shot a look at her sister, but it was too late. Tenzin had heard.

“D- date? Is this a date?”

Lin’s face burned bright red. “I mean- n- no. Unless you want it to be?”

Tenzin went quiet for a moment, as if he were thinking it over.

“Yes, yes I do. I do want this to be a date. But I mean, only if you want it to be.”

“I think I do.”

Tenzin’s entire face lit up, and Lin felt herself begin to grin as well. Perhaps school dances weren’t so terrible after all.

#atla #lok #avatar the last airbender #the legend of korra #lin beifong #toph beifong #suyin beifong #tenzin #linzin #nora writes #writing

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pianjeong · 4 years

Text

congressional debate zukka au

this is inspired by @owlsantuary‘s post i was a congressional debater in hs so here u go

sokka is captain of his school's debate team; he joined as a freshman bc he was like "a club that lets me expound on my opinions for five minutes straight? yes plz" and was good enough that he made captain as a sophomore when the previous one graduated

- the idea of "politicking" is really important in congressional bc it's how you get people to support your bills if you wrote them, or if you have a really good argument and want that bill to be higher on the docket (bc sometimes you run out of time)

- sokka absolutely OWNS at this bc he's that guy that everyone wants to be friends with and half the people he talks to don't even realize that he has an agenda

- he also makes actual friends with the people from rival schools bc that's just what he's like

- his assertiveness sometimes gets him into sticky situations bc ppl get offended by him cutting them off during question time, but it's usually bc theyre trying to run out the clock and he is NOT having that

- i always led tongue twister exercises at the start of every competition to get our voices warmed up and im imagining sokka and his team SHOUTING the "betty bought a bit of butter" one in the middle of the hallway and getting weird looks (if you haven't heard of it look it up it's HARD)

- he always gets full points for pathos (yes that's a real thing) bc he'll tell jokes abt his teacher dads or his sister but then he'll turn around and make his dumb joke into a big-picture argument about the value of education or something; sometimes it backfires though bc he makes a joke at the wrong time

- i think he’d struggle with arguing for opinions he doesn’t agree with…bc he has CONVICTIONS and is basically physically incapable of arguing against like. a climate change bill or something

- this means that he sometimes scores low bc he only argues what he agrees with

- zuko is research captain for his team, which happens to be no. 1 rivals with sokka's school

- he is the master of the rebuttal bc he loves nothing more than tearing holes in people's arguments

- he isn't the best at being adaptible if the debate takes a turn away from what he predicted/researched for, and he does have problems with looking down at his notes WAY too much (youre allowed notes but youre meant to make as much eye contact as possible), but he always shows up with exorbitant numbers of sources and flattens people with FACTS

- when he's not speaking he is the most awkward of the awkwards and he despises politicking bc it makes him feel self-conscious; this means that he honestly doesn't have v many friends besides his own team but at the same time everyone Knows Of him and the "oh SHIT zuko sozin is in my debate room im so screwed" whispers are real

- he's better at arguing whichever side of the debate is available instead of only sticking with his own beliefs, which allows him to rack up a ridiculous amount of points bc he's speaking every ten minutes

- he's also at least co-author, if not singular author, of like 80% of the bills his school submits for debate (which also contributes to everyone knowing his name)

- sokka and zuko had definitely heard of each other before they actually meet; sokka bc of zuko's Reputation (tm) and zuko bc ofc he'd know of the captain of their biggest rival

- also bc they're always getting called up at the awards ceremonies for best speaker awards (and best bill for zuko)

- they do NOT understand what's so great about the other...but also are Looking Respectfully bc debate requires formal wear and ofc zuko shows up in a tailored three-piece suit and sokka's probably wearing his dad's old suit but makes it look good anyway

- this changes the first time they're assigned to the same room and sokka bounds up to zuko to introduce himself and immediately stutters bc o god cute boy cuter up close and zuko thinks this is precious but also has no idea what to say and blurts out something dumb and then they both sit down and look Determinedly Away

- zuko is very surprised when he finds sokka is actually kinda funny and even tho he thinks that him only arguing one side is disadvantageous he's also v impressed by the strength of it (and oh my god a good family relationship what???)

- sokka is floored by zuko bc his speeches literally sound like poetry with sources (insert that line from rwrb that's like "'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing youve said to me")

- and THEN...they both get to go to the captains' lunches which is where they really sit and talk for the first time over pizza and sodas and maybe exchange numbers :0

- there is definitely "fraternization with the enemy" talk from their teams mostly joking but also sokka youre CAPTAIN you cant do that hes ZUKO SOZIN PLS STOP (spoiler: he doesnt care)

- it takes ages and ages for them to progress past being friends but they always sit together at captains' lunches and sometimes their teams....sit close at awards...and they trash talk and flirt across the bleacher dividers......

- it all comes to a head at the state competition which both teams make it to and they're both REAL nervous the night before and run into each other in the hotel lobby and it turns into them sitting up half the night talking and theyre both exhausted on competition day but it's ok bc coffee is a thing

- and then oh shit....sokka qualifies for nationals and zuko doesn't but someone else on his team does......and everyone expects zuko to be mad about it and sure he's disappointed but also hes just so happy for sokka that it kinda overshadows it

- they sneak away from the celebration dinner that both teams just Happened to be at the same restaurant for (actually, the sponsor squad aka iroh, hakoda, and piandao definitely planned this) and make out outside and tell their friends to fuck off when they come looking for them; they've both been dancing around this forever they deserve it

#:')#so much reminiscing gods #zukka #debate au #*#text

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fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years

Text

Gala and “I’m allergic to bullshit.”

Word count: 2244

Link for it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26180371

Notes: Hey! This was beta'd by @3ambird , who is an amazing sweetheart and improves evertything they touch. Thank you for the help!

Galas were never fun. Bruce had hated them as a kid, and hated them as teen, and he hates them as an adult. Still, he has to maintain appearances, so he always attends. And as his family grew, his kids were forced to attend as well.

Dick Grayson was particularly good at socializing. After he moved past his teenage rage, of course. He used to get in passive aggressive arguments with the rich CEOs and company owners all the time. He still does, but at least now he was good at it to the point where it almost couldn’t be recognized as an argument, instead of jumping on the necks of greedy millionaires that bought land out of poor people.

That was an interesting headline.

Jason sucked at galas. Soon enough, he figured out that if he started enough awkward conversations, people wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore. Especially the creepy single older women, pinching his cheeks and squeezing his biceps.

“Say, Claire, what’s your opinion on the alarming rate at which the bees are disappearing? They say that’s because of all the chemicals we put in our food.” He’d smile, carefully holding his glass. Bruce would struggle to hide his gasp, because Jason, that’s the owner of the highest earning pesticides company in the country.

“Well, Roger, I’m certain that the legalization of abortions would be a great thing, considering that now your mistresses won’t have to be sent overseas to terminate the unwanted preganancies you give them, right?” He’d say, and Bruce would nearly have a heart attack, because Jason, that’s the president of Gotham’s conservative party.

“Oh, you see, Sandra, I think that gay marriage should not only be legalized, but encouraged. If straight couples were to cease existing, then no more children would be born, and honestly, no one needs any more of those snotty gremlins running around, ruining perfectly good tapestry.” And Bruce would faint, because Jason, for God’s sake, that is the leader of the Gotham’s Motherhood Association.

Tim wasn’t all that bad. He could be social with a little effort, and he was far more used to galas than any of the other family members, having grown up attending them. Of course, all of that was only valid when he wasn’t sleep deprived, which, considering all he had on his plate, was roughly 32% of the time. When he was running on three hours of sleep and seven cups of caffeine a day, trying to finish a project, run his share of the Wayne Enterprises, and manage school work, he became a bit more irritable and impatient. And extremely impulsive. Which is mainly why Bruce asked Dick to stand by his brother through most of the night.

“We both know you’re his impulse control, Dick.” He said, adjusting his oldest son’s tie “Remember what happened the last time he was left unattended for fifteen minutes?”

“He got into an argument with a young Creationist and dunked his own head in an ice bowl after screaming ‘Fuck God! I can hear colors and dinosaurs rule!’” Dick sighed, “Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Cass despised them, but Bruce insisted she should attend anyway. More often than not, she’d just stay at the table, tasting as many appetizers as the waiters would bring her, and shooting murderous looks at anyone who sneered at her. Bruce was relieved that at least she wasn’t cracking any bones.

Damian was... Better than Jason and worse than Dick. He had an unamused expression through most of the event, and would unceremoniously swat away any hands that tried to pinch his cheeks. Other than that, he wasn’t much trouble. The real trouble were galas all Wayne kids attended. The five of them could cause enough trouble when they were apart, together they were the embodiment of chaos.

And this was supposed to be a calm, slightly boring family evening. It really was.

But Bruce just had to bring all five of them.

Everything had to go just right. As they walked in through the red carpet, the media was eating up the image of the six Waynes dressed formally; Each of them had a tie color matching their hero uniform (a cheeky thing they enjoyed doing to play with the theorists minds), Dick had a dark blue one, Tim and Jason slightly varying tones of red, Damian had a green one and Bruce had a black one. Cass wore a long black dress that sparkled when it was hit by the light in just the right way.

The first sign was the reporter, who, while aggressively pointing a microphone in their faces, asked pushy questions about relationships and the like, nothing out of the ordinary, until he shoved it in Cass’ face and asked her if she could even speak. Jason almost broke the man’s nose. Bruce silently thanked God for Dick, who stepped in front of the man before that happened.

“Try some shit like that again pal, you’ll hear from our lawyers.” He led his sister inside, a protective hand on her back.

They calmed down. And Bruce still had hopes that this would be a quiet evening.

Looking back at it, he doesn’t know why.

Because as Dick and Cass were at the bar, ordering drinks, a woman stood next to them, trying to make small talk. Neither of them seemed too interested in her; she is a hassle at every gala, making weird advances on all of the boys. Today, however, she was a little more tipsy, and Bruce couldn’t quite make out what exactly the conversation was about, but Dick was clearly uncomfortable and Cass was fuming. The woman kept grabbing at him, sliding her hands over his tie, squeezing his arms. And then she squeezed his ass, and it took Cass less than a second to break her nose.

If they were any other family, Cass would have been thrown out of the party, but they were the Waynes, and you do not throw a Wayne out of a party. If she punched a middle-aged woman, then she punched a middle-aged woman. Bring her a glass of water and some ice for her injured hand.

Of course, it didn’t end there.

Bruce was still surprised he didn’t have gray hairs yet.

Because Damian had discovered and made friends with a stray cat in the garden, and Jason had a laser pointer, because of course Jason had a laser pointer, and the cat ended up knocking down not one, not two, but three expensive pieces of pottery, shattering them on the gravel floor. And when the house owner saw the damage, he turned pale and had to hold back his tears. Jason laughed.

“-tt-.” Damian stated, adjusting his suit “You owe that cat a favour,those vases ruined the garden’s aesthetic. Regardless, I’m sure father will be more than happy to compensate you for the damages.”

He walked back to the party slowly, passing by the man who would need some time to make it back.

Once Jason broke him the news, Bruce thought (and hoped) that that would be it.

But no, the night was young, and there was so much time left and the batsibilings for sure wouldn’t waste it.

The previous statement about sleep deprived Tim?

Well.

Tonight, he had to pick a fight with an essential-oil-loving, antivax mother. Simply because he liked to torture himself. And because nobody realised he was alone until Bruce spotted him in the crowd, eye twitching as a woman rambled about all the heavy metals and chemicals that vaccines had in them. He thought about getting to him, but he knew it was too late. There was no going back now.

“Well, you see Karen,” He started.

“Uuum, my name’s Patricia.” She interrupted.

“I’m a billionaire’s heir, I don’t give a shit.” He said “Anyways. As I was saying, the thing is, I’d rather take the chance of being injecting myself with mercury than, oh, I don’t know, get meningitis and fucking die?”

The circle went quiet. Another woman, wanting to dissipate the tension, tried to restart the conversation.

“I-I mean, I don’t understand why can’t they make something safer, right? Like, when we used to throw those smallpox parties, why won’t they make something that works like that? So that we can build a natural immunity instead of all of those chemicals.” She laughed awkwardly.

Tim slapped his own face so hard that it attracted a lot of eyes.

“How. Do. You. Think. Vaccines. Work. Susan?”

“M-my name is Mary.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He answered. And just in time, Dick swooped in.

“Hey, Timmy!” He greeted “Can I borrow this guy for a second?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he guided Tim out to the garden.

“Fucking idiots.” He muttered “I don’t know how they have so much money. They’re all fucking idiots, Dick. I’m surrounded by dumbasses.”

“There, there.” He said “Okay, we’re far enough.” He looked around “Go ahead.”

And Tim let out the most horrendous, rage filled scream any of those guests had ever heard. Because of course they heard it. Bruce sighed and shrunk on his chair.

“Better?” Dick asked as he finished, patting his back.

“So much.” Tim answered.

“You should’ve slept a little before this.”

“No way. I’m totally fine.” He answered “I had three cans of monster before we left, so I feel great.” Dick raised an eyebrow, worried.

“Whatever you say, buddy.” He led him back inside, tidying up his brother’s hair “Just... No more picking fights with moms tonight, okay?”

And Bruce thought that was enough. Bruce was certain that this would be the last incident.

But his kids just loved proving him wrong.

He thought that the best strategy would be to ask them to stick together, so that Dick’s responsibility and social skills would keep his feral siblings under control. He should’ve known it would backfire.

The last he checked, they were making small talk with some CEOs on the edge of the room, away from the dance floor. Jason, Cass and Damian seemed completely bored, Tim was clenching his jaw for some reason, and Dick tried his best to look polished and polite.

“So, I heard that Wayne Enterprises have a new project?” One of them asked, chest so projected forwards it looked like it was about to explode.

“Yes. Yes we do.” Dick said, smiling politely “We’re opening up a refugee housing program.”

“Oh, so that’s what those buildings are for?”

“Yes, exactly!” He exclaimed, opening his arms in a seemingly natural manner “We are building apartments to shelter them. It’s nothing fancy, but we can charge a cheaper rent than most, and not charge at all for the first six months, giving them a chance to properly establish themselves here.”

“Well, I must say,” Puffed up chest guy stated, “I can’t see why not to give them to good old Americans instead. There’s a lot of homeless people nowadays, you see.” He leaned forward as he talked.

Damian perked his head up, but didn’t say anything. Cass and Jason seemed to be listening. Tim’s left eye twitched.

“Actually,” Tim started “The company has very stable, successful projects to help the homeless.”

“I’m familiar with those, yes.” He arrogantly dismissed the teen “But, you see, I just can’t understand why not open the housing to tax paying Americans instead of some...”

“Potential terrorists?” Damian suggested, arms crossed, scowl on his face.

“...Foreigners.” He completed.

“Well, since you ask, we are currently planning on the possibility of eventually opening vague apartments to Americans too.” Dick answered, swirling the liquid in his glass around “But the priority now really are the refugees.”

“I don’t see why can’t we prioritize our own people.” He insisted “I’m simply concerned for the well being of our poorest patriots.”

Dick blinked.

And here’s why Bruce should have known it would backfire.

Because, yes, Dick was able to cool them down...

But they were able to fire him up.

And so, like the charismatic man he was, he covered his nose a little, rubbing at the end, and faked a loud sneeze.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” He started “You see, I have this strange condition.” Dick stared at the man in the eye, the guy who had bought an old building people were squatting at, just to demolish it and doom them to the streets with no care or compensation, and, knowing this and so much more, said “I’m allergic to bullshit.”

And his siblings went feral again.

Tim and Jason screamed an ‘Oooooooooh!’, Damian pointed at the man and laughed loudly, and Cass snorted, covering her mouth in surprise.

Dick didn’t break eye contact as he drank the last of his champagne.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” He said “I have to go look for better company.” Dick left the empty glass at the nearest table and adjusted his suit, smiling “Have a nice evening.”

As he walked away, the gang followed close behind, all of them very excited about how Dick, the composed, calm, cool, polite and polished Dick Grayson-Wayne, had just burned a millionaire in front of his economic allies. As the party reached Bruce, the man once again seemed to sink into his chair. Dick sat next to him, radiating confidence and charm.

“Do I wanna know?” The man asked.

“No,” Dick answered, grinning but not looking at the man “No you don’t.”

#Batfamily #BatFam #batbros #batsiblings #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #Damian Wayne #cassandra cain #bruce wayne is a good parent #exasperated dad bruce wayne #batman bingo #batman bingo 2020 #fanfic #fanfition #writing #chaotic batfam

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oysterformed · 3 years

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𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦

~ 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑜𝑒

the first time you attend an event with so-called MIXED COMPANY, you are seventeen years old. there have, of course, been birthday parties with girls from your school, family parties and business events. but for the most part these events were not conducive to the kind of goings-on that could be considered part of the quintessential teenage experience. perhaps this is why the other girls in your cohort titter and giggle in anticipation of the upcoming combined formal, where boys from the brother school will be in attendance. like you, many of your friends have had minimal interaction with boys, and as such there is certainly an air of mystery and excitement about the possibilities this event poses. before long there are whispers in the halls and private group chats which spread the new of an AFTER PARTY, no teachers, no parents, and the lure of an unattended liquor cabinet. you exchange glances with your best friend - it is far from both of your comfort zones and yet… perhaps TOGETHER, you will be brave enough to face the potential of the event. besides, neither of you would ever let the other go alone...

the formal bears the sort of stiffness and awkwardness that you might expect based on name alone. you stand in a sea of designer dresses and tailored suits, and watch on with a confused smile as the scene before you unfolds. it is not the FAIRYTALE BALL, romantic comedy moment that many of the girls seemed to have assumed it would be. unsurprisingly, when you have been deprived of normal social interaction with boys your age, the transition to darling socialites who dazzle all onlookers with moves learned in your recent ballroom class, is not so easy. instead, you watch groups of girls awkwardly huddled like penguins. you stifle a laugh as your cohort throw furtive glances to the groups of boys who for the most part appear OBLIVIOUS to the subtext of the event and are acting, perhaps, they way they might on a rugby field rather than a black tie event.

and yet, while dancing with your friends, one points out that you appear to have captured the attention of one of the boys. you steal a glance, CHEEKS FLAMING, at the group behind you, and your eyes meet his. he is handsome - you suppose, in that kind of classic way. but there is also something awkward about him, somewhat LANKY and bumbling. you turn back to your friends, eyes wide as they tease, ‘ evelyn’s got an ADMIRER ’ they giggle, and you wonder why those words cause your chest to tighten.

arm in arm with your best friend you steel yourself as you walk into the after party. to say that the atmosphere of the room is diametrically opposed to that of the school hall is putting it mildly. gone are the restraints of formality; suit jackets removed, hemlines are shorter. away from the watchful eyes of the teaching staff, and with the kind of COURAGE or perhaps naivety that alcohol allows to the privileged progeny of london, suddenly the girls of north london collegiate and the queen elizabeth’s school boys are intertwined, talking, laughing. someone hands you a glass of something, and a long sip causes you to blanche at the taste. you see your friends, clem and rosie, waving you over to where they sit, with the boy from earlier, who is in turn surrounded by his schoolmates. another long sip and a nervous laugh with chloe and you find yourself walking forward. “ EV! this is oliver! ” comes the not so subtle introduction offered by clem. you find yourself saying that it’s lovely to meet him, asking if he is enjoying the night, sitting yourself down amongst the group. after all, wasn’t this the POINT of the evening? to meet, mingle, go a little crazy?

you find yourself watching him speak, without really taking in much that is said. a few words break through, enough for you to realise that your friends weren’t far from the mark by attempting to set this up. top grades, orchestra, tennis, and ambitions to work in finance. as your eyes glance over his features, you begin to see your future unfold before you, imagine the SMILES on your parents faces as you bring home someone so well matched.

when he asks you if you want to go outside, you think, what for ? but the looks on your friends faces are encouraging, their expressions spurring you on. you glance around for approval from chloe, but find her seat vacant ; gone to the bathroom perhaps, or getting another drink. you give him a smile, and say simply, “ okay ”, thinking that some fresh air would be nice, away from the din of the music and laughter. he leads you to a balcony, encasing your hand in a slightly clammy grip. you are looking up, exploring the stars with wonderment when you realise his hand has moved to your cheek, turning it gently to face his.

his lips are on yours before you can ask what he is doing. you find yourself, in a moment that seems to last for HOURS, realising that this was the purpose, the reason he led you away, and you wonder if you wanted this to happen, after all, you followed him, didn’t you? his lips are soft, but press a little too firmly, your noses bumping awkwardly. you realise you feel NOTHING but a sense of disappointment. is this what it was MEANT to feel like? is this how everyone else felt? this … nothingness ? accompanied by the pressure of another person against you?

by the time he pulls away, you realise that you have no idea what comes next. he utters something about how lovely you are but your brain is trying to piece together what any of this means. a hasty “ i uh - have to go to the ladies room ” is the only thing you can muster as you make your exit back to the party, heart pounding in your chest.

your first kiss doesn’t awaken anything in you, except for a strange sense of dissatisfaction, and disillusionment with notions of romance. but you tuck those thoughts away, and as your friends excitedly question you about ‘ WHAT HAPPENED ’, you find yourself hoping that someday you might kiss someone and feel MORE.

#opalsadvent #╰ ‘ [ * 𝘪𝘮 ] 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩… ’ › self #evelyn said i kissed a boy like i was supposed to and honestly cannot recommend 0/5 stars

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yoon-kooks · 4 years

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Blood to Spare

Pairing: Prince!Jimin x Knight!Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Royal!AU

Summary: When a malicious threat is made against Prince Jimin’s life just hours before Garreg Mach’s annual ball, it is your sworn duty to accompany him as his date and ensure he makes it through the night unscathed. For as the Prince’s personal guard, you must be willing to cut down any blade that takes aim at him, even if it’s your own heart.

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: blood, death, fingering, unprotected sex, it’s honestly super vanilla

A/N: wooooooo 2020 is finally here and so is prince jimin;;;;; this fic is based around fire emblem three houses, but you don’t need to know anything about the game to enjoy the story! but if you do love fire emblem like me, you’ll pick up on some references here and there. also lmk if you guys are interested in a prequel and sequel! ++special shoutouts to @d-noona and @scalbra for the love and support💖

You examine the bright red trail streaming down the set of ribs in front of you. The boy lies there in pain, but you offer him no sympathy. It’s his own fault, after all.

“Agh!” He tightens his fists as you press the weight of your body down onto the wound. And if the pressure alone is not enough to make the boy beg for mercy, you know what is. Alcohol and ointment seep into the depth of his gash until the burning sensation draws the response you’re looking for. “Is all of the pressing and stinging really necessary, Y/N?” he yelps.

“It wouldn’t be necessary if you had been more careful like I advised, Jimin,” you shake your head, bandaging up the boy’s disinfected ribs. “But we can’t afford to have our beloved professor and future ruler of Fodlan bleed to death after a mock battle with his students. Especially not with the ball tomorrow evening.”

In the land of Fodlan, an annual ball is held during the Ethereal Moon to celebrate both the year’s end and the founding of Garreg Mach Monastery. For this year in particular, it is crucial for Fodlan’s Prince Jimin to be present and act as a bridge that unifies the continent’s three main nations: Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester.

And although you despise formal gatherings such as this one, it is your mission as one of the Knights of Seiros and Jimin’s personal guard to ensure that the Prince is well and able enough to fulfill his political affairs for the night.

“Speaking of the ball, I have yet to find myself a date,” Jimin says as he reclothes his upper half. “It seems no one is interested in sharing a dance with me…”

You know that’s a big fat lie. Jimin may not be the only professor at the Officers Academy, but he is certainly the most popular one amongst both students and faculty due to his charm and royal status. Even back when he was a student himself, he always seemed to have everyone wrapped around his finger. Everyone except you. Though you suppose that’s the reason you were appointed to be his personal guard since becoming a Knight of Seiros.

“That’s too bad,” you say. Again, you offer no sympathy or solution to the boy’s misfortune.

“Well since all of the Knights of Seiros have to be at the ball anyway, I wouldn't mind if you were my date, Y/N.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles, as if that’s going to make the offer any more tempting.

“No thanks. My job at the ball is to protect you, not dance with you,” you shake him off. This isn’t the first or last time he’s tried to make a romantic advance on you. The naïve teenage you might’ve been swooned, but ever since devoting your life to protecting Jimin, romantic affairs have become of little significance to you. “And besides, if you’re not in immediate danger, it’s better for us to keep a distance at the ball.”

Jimin’s smile fades because he knows you’re right. It would reflect poorly on Fodlan’s future ruler to be associated on an intimate level with someone who lacks nobility and a crest. With a heavy sigh, there’s nothing the boy can do but concede defeat to your rejection. You, on the other hand, have more to say.

“Rather than worrying about finding a date to dance with, keep in mind your responsibilities as the prince. Tomorrow is an opportunity to build a stronger relationship between-”

“-the three nations,” he interrupts your scolding to end the conversation. “You don’t have to remind me, Y/N.”

It is not often that the Prince speaks with bitterness towards you. You don’t take personal offense from it, though, because you know it comes from a place of built-up stress and frustration. To be born into a position of power has its cons too, and you know better than anyone that this isn’t a path Jimin would’ve chosen for himself.

Still, it’s your duty to make sure the Prince is properly fulfilling all of his duties. And sometimes he needs to learn to set aside his personal feelings, just as you’ve done with yours.

“Very well,” you say, stepping out of his room. “I’ll see you in the morning, Your Highness.”

When morning comes, the walk to the Knight’s Hall feels exceptionally long and quiet. Students are rushing to set up last-minute décor and finishing touches before sundown when the ball is set to begin. However, all that chaos and chatter is drowned out by the piercing tension between you and the boy you’re escorting.

It’s clear he’s still mad at you. Probably because you last referred to him, not by name, but by status. Ever since you became his personal guard years ago, he’s always encouraged you to simply call him Jimin. It took a while, but you eventually picked up the habit and noticed the delight on Jimin’s face whenever he heard his name. As far as you know, you’re the only one who drops the formalities with him.

But because you had purposely called him “Your Highness” out of spite, you’ve now reopened the gap between you and him. Like cutting back into an old scar.

You’re thankful when you finally reach the Knight’s Hall and your fellow Knights of Seiros waste no time in filling the void of silence that had followed you into the room.

“Early this morning, a student found this letter posted on the doors to the Entrance Hall,” Seokjin hands you a torn parchment paper to look at.

“We cannot allow the nations of Fodlan to become one under the absolute rule of the Central Church here at Garreg Mach. We urge the Archbishop to consider canceling the annual ball, and with it, the meeting between Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester. If not, we will have no choice but to burn the bridge that seeks to unify Fodlan as one. Peace shall never be found in an allegiance that blindly sides where power lies.”

It only takes a second for you to piece together who the target in question is—the bridge that seeks to unify Fodlan, Prince Jimin.

“They want the ball cancelled or they want the Prince’s head,” you grind your teeth.

To an extent, you understand the point of disagreement between political views. The current rule, for example, does not exactly favor the Crestless or have plans of changing that any time soon. Even if Fodlan were to unite as a single nation as it had hundreds of years ago, the divide between nobility and the Crestless would only continue to increase.

That being said, a threat on the Prince’s life is enough for you to set aside your own feelings as a Crestless. If someone is willing to go as far as point their blade in Jimin’s direction, they are already dead in your eyes.

“I’ve already spoken with the Archbishop and she wishes for the ball to proceed as planned. For all we know, this could be an empty threat. I doubt the enemy has the means to break through our defenses,” Namjoon says. “However, we, the Knights of Seiros, will still need to be on high alert to ensure the night runs smoothly.”

“Understood,” you say, glancing at the boy whose life is on the line. “I will not allow anything to happen to the Prince.”

“Actually,” Namjoon continues, “the Archbishop has requested for you to act as Prince Jimin’s date for the night as a precaution to any assassin that may be lurking from within the monastery.”

“Understood,” you say again, but with an awkwardness far worse than the silent void from earlier. The last thing you need is to act all lovey-dovey with the boy you just rejected and are not on good speaking terms with.

Once the other knights have left to stand guard and investigate the origins behind the letter, your mind starts spinning. You don’t want to formally attend the ball, you know nothing about the proper etiquette of nobility, Jimin probably hates your guts, you don’t know how to dance, you have no gown to wear, and Jimin probably hates your—

The boy motions for you to follow him, pulling you out of your daze and into town to grab all the essentials for the Garreg Mach annual ball.

Several hours later, you sit in the Prince’s quarters, staring at the long flowy gown you’re supposed to be wearing. As a knight with a commoner upbringing, the occasion to wear such a fancy garment never arose, so you feel a bit perplexed with what to do next. For starters, you don’t even have a clue how to get it on.

“Do you need help?” Jimin raises an eyebrow at you as he straightens up his royal blue uniform, one very well suited for a prince.

“I got it,” you shake your head. Succumbing to the Prince’s assistance would only be a sign of weakness. You’ll find a way to figure it out on your own if it means avoiding Jimin’s gaze as you struggle to get the dress on. “Just turn around for a second and don't watch me from the mirror either.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” he hums, lowkey throwing shade as he turns his back to you. You haven’t yet apologized for calling him that, but he’s definitely making sure you’re aware of it.

You bite your tongue until you’ve stepped into the dress. It still feels a bit loose, but you put it on to the best of your ability. When you give him the okay to turn around again, the first thing he does is crack a smirk.

“What?” You shoot him a dirty look.

He gestures for you to come closer and spins you around. As he reties your dress’ complex ribbons from behind, you feel the gown becoming snugger in the appropriate places. Very slightly, you feel the cold tips of Jimin’s fingers tickle your skin as he ties the last ribbon at the back of your neck. You don’t say anything, but your body reacts accordingly.

“Oh? Someone has goose bumps,” he snickers, spinning you back around to face him. Before you can blame it on his cold hands, he gives you a good look from head to toe. “The dress looks pretty on you, by the way.”

“Thank you, Jimin.” More than his compliment, you’re thankful that he’s at least speaking kindly to you again. “And my apologies for yesterday.”

The chilling tips of his fingers have since wandered up to your cheeks, and the only reason you don’t swat him away is because it’s something he’s done since the two of you were little. He cups your cheeks and gives them a gentle squeeze before jumping back to the conversation as if it were nothing. You’ve never questioned him about it, but given the context of all the times you can recall, you assume it’s his way of showing forgiveness.

“I should not have lashed out at you in the first place. The thought of becoming Fodlan’s ruler is just… a lot for one person to bear,” Jimin finally releases your cheeks and backs away to the edge of his bed. “But that’s why it’s a relief to have you with me at my side tonight.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Not just tonight,” you remind him. “Always.”

“Yeah, but it’s not every night I get to see the cold-blooded Y/N all dolled up and without a swor-” He cuts himself off when he sees you lifting up the skirt of your gown as if you’ve forgotten a (handsome and needy) boy is still in the room with you.

You’re so focused on trying to hide your trusty Hero’s Relic sword, Blutgang, beneath your dress that you do not realize how much of your lower body you’ve exposed. “A knight can never be without their blade.”

“What if it tears the gown open…?” Jimin’s question gives the illusion of concern, though he probably would not be opposed to that scenario.

“It would be embarrassing, but I’d rather be embarrassed than unprepared,” you blink at the boy.

“I suppose you’re going to stick the whole Aegis Shield down there as well then?” He blinks back. You know he’s trying to clown you, but it’s also no secret that you’ve never been without the shield since it was gifted to you from the Prince himself.

You shake your head. “It’s too big to hide. I don’t want to stand out anymore than I already will.” Because amongst a crowd of nobles and royalty, a Crestless like you will be no more than a fish out of water. Even the most beautiful gown cannot hide that reality.

“If anyone says something about you, I’ll-”

“You’ll smile and move on because you have a reputation to maintain,” you finish the statement for him.

“Will you really be okay with that?” Jimin frowns.

All you do is nod. You don’t need protecting or for your feelings to be spared. It’s your job to defend him; not the other way around.

As the sun sets later that evening, you follow the Prince’s lead into the glamor and prestige of Garreg Mach’s annual ball. Aside from keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, all you need to do is act pretty and proper. You’ve learned at least that much after observing the event from afar all these years as a Knight of Seiros.

You don’t hold his hand, but rather, you hook your arm around his. If you were truly in love with your date, you’d much prefer to intertwine your fingers with his and never let go. That, to you, would feel more comforting and secure. But love is not the game you’re playing.

As Jimin makes his rounds to greet each and every guest, you evaluate their individual intentions. Fortune, luxury, reputation, power. From years past, you recall that many female guests had also made romantic advances on the Prince through not-so-subtle caresses, bedroom eyes, and the like. The way you stare at them with such intensity of judgment must be quite intimidating because not a single romantic advance is made on Jimin this year with you beside him.

Even through the casual, yet all important, gathering of Fodlan’s leaders, you observe no sign of suspicious activity and sense no danger to the Prince’s life. The King of Faerghus, the Emperor of Adrestia, the Leader of Leicester, and Jimin all chat as though they are one big happy family, each expressing interest in moving forward with the unification of their nations.

If the letter turns out to be an empty threat as Namjoon suggested, perhaps the unification of Fodlan can be settled without any casualties. That would be the best case scenario, though you’re still skeptical that anything could ever be that simple.

Once handshakes are exchanged and the meeting is adjourned, Jimin sends his fellow leaders off with that charming smile of his, and you try to do the same. You wouldn’t exactly describe your own smile as charming—“forced” is probably a better word for it—but it seems to be satisfactory enough for all but the Adrestrian Emperor.

She doesn’t say anything, but her long stare in your direction tells you she knows something. Whether it’s that you’re the only Crestless in attendance, or that you were once a child of Adrestia, she finally returns a smile similar to your own before heading back out of the meeting room.

“That went pretty well, didn’t it?” Jimin pulls you in closer to him as the two of you step back into the lively reception hall where most of the guests are gathered. When you turn to face him, he radiates. Part of you wants to mention the off-putting vibe you got from the Adrestian Emperor, but a larger part of you wishes not to put a damper on Jimin’s high spirits. So you keep your mouth shut.

Besides, you believe the Emperor’s intentions, if any, are not directed toward the Prince. And that assumption is quickly confirmed based on the gossip now floating around amongst the noble guests.

“What business does a Crestless have with the Prince?”

“Prince Jimin can do so much better.”

“I heard that’s the one who slaughtered an entire army with a stolen Hero’s Relic.”

“The one also responsible for Prince Hoseok’s death?”

“Such a sinful Crestless exists?”

“At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter who he’s fooling around with. As heir to the Fodlan throne, there’s no way anyone would allow him to marry below nobility.”

You do your best not to roll your eyes at the comments made about yourself. They don’t upset you, but you are annoyed. You certainly do not need to be reminded of your worth, your sins, or that Jimin would be better off with literally anyone else as his date. You don’t need to hear the very thoughts that have haunted and tormented your mind for as long as you can remember.

They don’t know your whole story, and you don’t care to share it with them either. Let them think what they will.

You suddenly spin Jimin in front of you, close the distance as much you can without kissing his ear, and whisper, “Can we get a change of scenery?” The boy agrees and pulls you away from the festivities of the ball.

“I wish you didn’t have to hear all that nonsense,” he says after closing the door to his quarters. Luckily, his room is not too far from the reception hall.

“Oh, I wasn’t bothered by that,” you shrug, unhooking the sword from the garter on your thigh and leaning it with the unused shield. “I just wanted those foul guests to believe we eloped or something. Maybe they’ll start a rumor about that too.”

“Y/N,” Jimin sits you down on his bed, “I can tell when something bothers you, you know.”

“How?”

“You start acting petty out of spite.”

He’s not wrong. Your pettiness is one habit you’ve never been able to shake from your soul. “Regardless, those nobles can think or say whatever they please about me. Nothing will ever change the worth of a Crestless anyway.”

“It shouldn’t matter if you bear a crest or not,” he says softly.

“It shouldn’t, but it does. It matters plenty to the nations of Fodlan. Crests hold a lot of power, which means bearers are not exiled from their own bloodline, they are not expendable objects, and they do not have to fight for their right to exist. If not for the Central Church, you and I-”

“You and I would not have met.” He’s wrong.

“We wouldn’t have met under these circumstances, but we would’ve met,” you say, “as enemies of war.” Because had the church not taken you from your birthplace of Adrestia as a child, you’d surely want to stop Fodlan’s unification like the ones who wrote that letter.

“Then I’m forever grateful we met the way we did,” Jimin leans over you until your back is down against the bed. From above, he has you in a place of vulnerability. “Because I will always fancy you more than any bearer of a crest.”

From below, you look up into his eyes and find solace in the one person you want to trust. It’s just a matter of accepting that solace and allowing yourself to trust enough to let him in.

Before you know it, soft caresses of the Prince’s lips invade your skin. He starts just below your cheek and works his way down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he goes. Your chin lifts and tilts on its own, as if to uncover more skin for the boy to please. He thankfully picks up on the cue and tends to your needs.

At the same time, you struggle to downplay the desperation in your body. You shouldn’t be having an intimate moment with the Prince when you’re supposed to be protecting him. After all, it’s wrong to be so lustful for a forbidden affair.

But the feeling of him against your bare skin is painfully addicting. The more he kisses, the further you want to go.

“We shouldn’t… be doing this…” you manage to say against your desires.

“What should we be doing then?” Jimin’s fingers run through your hair as he waits patiently for a response, but even the most innocent touch is making it hard to think. You only have one thing consuming your mind, and it isn’t what you should be doing.

You reach for his ruffled collar to pull his body down closer to you, practically reducing the space between you and him to nothing. To answer the boy’s question, you start unbuttoning his uniform from top to bottom. After tossing the princely uniform aside, it only takes him a second to rid you of the gown that had seemed so difficult to get on.

Without thinking, you pull him back on top of you. You’re aching to be touched, you need to be relieved of this unbearable heat, and you’ve reached the point of desperation where your legs are spread out as wide as they can go.

“You poor thing,” Jimin teases, staring right between your thighs for the longest second until finally swiping a sample of your glaze. He makes it a point to show you how wet you’ve made his fingers before sucking them off with a naughty smirk. “Is this what years of lusting after me tastes like?”

You hate that he’s very much aware of the feelings you had for him at one point in time. However, those feelings have since become much more complex. You’ve done your best to block out any romantic feelings and channel those lost emotions elsewhere for the sake of protecting the Prince. So what does that really leave you with?

“Aah…!” A moan escapes your throat when Jimin’s fingers give you another pleasant surprise down there. Only this time, he strokes you in a circular motion, over and over again. Your breathing quickens to the rhythm of his touch—he’s taken control over your body’s sensual instincts. And every time he casually brushes against your erect little bud, a wave of sensitivity makes you gasp out in pleasure.

Though your eyes remain shut for the most part to cope with the immense pleasure, you do catch a glimpse of the Prince’s now swollen cock. Either he’s been multitasking while pleasuring you, or the sight and sounds of your feverish state were more than enough to get him hard. When he stiffens and moans upon your sudden touch, you know it’s the latter.

As you glide your hand up and down his length, you angle yourself right beneath him to be in the optimal fucking position. With your free hand, you use your index and middle fingers to spread yourself open, and, with the other, you direct and ease the handful of cock into your entrance.

Once Jimin’s in deep enough, you let go and soothe the throbbing of your excited clit. As you take your time in building up the intensity, you glance up at the boy to make sure he’s watching you play with yourself. The sheer arousal reflected in your eyes seems to encourage him to start thrusting in and out of you to build up his own climax.

As your fingers continue to tease your clit and Jimin’s length continues to run through you, the sensations become so overwhelming that you can no longer tell where they’re coming from. Your entire body feels hot and tingly as if the sex were a wildfire that spread from head to toe. The only difference is that you wish the flame would never go out.

Based on how much Jimin’s moans have increased in volume and frequency, you can tell he’s as close as you are. You at first try to keep your fingers in rhythm with his quickening thrusts, but the rhythm is lost when the fucking becomes driven by total lust and no thought. Still, you manage to hit your high just before he reaches his.

For a long while, you lay there, waiting for your heartbeat to calm as Jimin does the same from above. If there was ever any tension, sexual or not, between you and the Prince, it’s certainly gone now. Looking up at the boy now, after the waves of sex have finally settled, you feel at peace. Even if it’s short-lived, you have to be content with the intimacy you were able to spend with the boy you once loved.

So when he goes in for the long-awaited kiss, you have to interrupt him. A kiss from the Prince would be asking for a little too much on a forbidden night of many other sins.

“I should go back to being your guard now,” you say softly, scooting your ass over to change back into the gown. “Then we need to return to the ball. I’d hate for assassins to attack over there while we’re here in the middle of… this…”

But before you can hop off the bed, Jimin stops you in your tracks. “Don’t worry, the assassination attempt won’t happen.”

“How can you be sure?” you ask in genuine curiosity because there must’ve been something you missed.

“Because I was the one who faked the letter this morning.”

You freeze. Why would the Prince ever want to fake an assassination threat on his own life? You can think of one reason, but you really hope that’s not the case. “Jimin, if you faked a dangerous situation for the sake of getting me to attend this damned ball with you, I won’t forgive you.”

When he fails to give you a response, you ball your hand up into a tight fist and start putting on your usual knight uniform as opposed to your gown. You can’t believe you allowed yourself to be so foolishly deceived.

“Y/N, wait-”

“Do you really not give a damn about your own life or duties as the future ruler of Fodlan?” you snap. “I’d rather give my life for someone who prioritizes their responsibilities for the sake of the entire continent than an entitled little prince who’d forgo all of that for someone born without a crest.”

You’re mad at not only the Prince but also yourself. You thought that after being so blinded and betrayed by trust once before, you’d never forget the fatal consequences of opening your heart to anyone. Trust and compassion have only ever brought you despair.

“If the assassination threat was all a hoax, I suppose my protection is no longer needed for the rest of the night.” You pick up your sword and slam the door behind you, leaving the shield behind once again.

You escape to the woodsy outskirts of Central Fodlan south of the monastery. The area may be recovering now with young saplings and shrubs as small animal families return home, but you still remember the scorched land from years ago when the first war you fought in took place. No matter where you walk, you stand on the soil once soaked in the blood of your enemies and allies.

But before the war, you had often paid visits to this secluded part of Fodlan whenever you needed time and space away from the monastery. There, you had first encountered a kid around your age who was kind enough to befriend you, despite your differences. It’s a shame you can no longer go back to the time when you could ignorantly trust in people without worry. And even if you could go back, you’d do everything differently so that the Prince would not have had to suffer the desolate fate you bestowed upon him.

It’s all your fault for carelessly putting your trust in others.

When you find a tree tall enough to lean against, you unsheathe your sword and examine it under the moonlight. The reddish brown sheen that reflects in the light is not rust, but your sins. It seems the blade will never be rid of the blood that tainted it on that day.

“It’d be best if we could lure the Prince and his guard away from the festivities.” Your sharp ears pick up on a small troop of rogue soldiers headed in the direction of the monastery. It sounds an awful lot like an assassination attempt.

From behind the tree, you try to figure out what the heck is going on while also deciding on the best course of action. Why are there foreign soldiers going after Jimin if he said the threat was a fake?

…Unless he was lying about that too.

You groan silently to yourself. For as long as you’ve known Jimin, he’s always been quite unpredictable to you and his actions are often questionable until you get an explanation. Perhaps there’s a better reason for his lie this time. But for now, you have to find a way to lure the soldiers away from the innocent guests at the monastery.

Just then, you swing your sword around at the slightest brush against your shoulder, but it turns out to only be the foolish Prince everyone’s looking for. You lower your blade.

“What are you doing, walking out here without a guard?” you hiss.

“Actually, I’m looking for my guard who seems to have abandoned me,” he says with the Aegis Shield you had left behind.

“That’s what you get for being an irresponsible Prince.” You keep your eye on the soldiers. “But before I smack you in the head for that, we have to do something about that troop over there.”

“They don’t look really tough, though.” Jimin takes the opportunity to lean right over you against the tree, but you aren’t quite ready to start accepting his flirtatious antics again.

“But that’s what makes it suspicious,” you blatantly ignore his failed kabedon. “They know they won't stand a chance against the Knights of Seiros, so why even bother?”

“It could be a trap?” he suggests. “Or maybe they have other intentions.”

“Whatever the case, we’ll stop them here and now.”

You make sure the Prince has a sword of his own before shoving him out from behind the tree. If the rustling of dead leaves did not already capture the attention of the soldiers, your shouting and waving at them does.

The alarmed soldiers quickly shift their sights from the monastery to you and the Prince. As soon as they begin to charge, so do you. Unlike many royal guards who stick close to their highnesses, you do not. Jimin may have lived a life of luxury as Prince, but you’ve made sure he learned how to fend for himself. In fact, he was the one who suggested that you teach him proper swordsmanship in the first place—perhaps one of his many elaborate schemes to get closer to you.

As soon as you clash blades with a soldier brave enough, you recognize the enemy troop is no pushover like you and Jimin had anticipated. Though they have the appearance of commoners who’ve never held a weapon in their life, the power behind their swing is comparable to your own. And it doesn’t quite add up.

When you’ve suppressed several soldiers, you glance over to Jimin exchanging blows with an assassin who has a more proper handle of his blade. Jimin’s golden shield blocks many of what could’ve been fatal blows, but its weight also hinders his movement against the nimble assassin.

You rush over, whipping your sword at the assassin to push him back from Jimin’s vicinity. Once you engage in a long drawn sword exchange with the assassin, you’re taken back by the familiarity in the energy he emanates. It somehow feels like the power from the Crest of Fraldarius, the very crest that Jimin bears. But that can’t be the case when crests are inherited through specific bloodlines by chance. And as far as you know, this random soldier has no blood connection to Jimin or House Fraldarius.

Either way, you eventually gain the advantage and pierce the enemy as the curved blade of your Blutgang bleeds once more. Crest or no crest, the enemy nor the Prince can keep up with the mercilessness in your every swing. In what feels like minutes, you’ve cut down the entire troop aside from the few that Jimin could handle himself.

You stare down at the body of the soldier who had given Jimin an exceptionally hard time. “Did you notice that this one had-”

“The Crest of Fraldarius,” Jimin nods. “There’s no mistaking it, but somehow it felt off.”

“Like it wasn’t the real deal?”

“Like it was a crest that didn’t belonged to him.”

The boy’s suggestion gives you something to think about. You wonder if the other soldiers also had crests of some sort—crests that were not rightfully theirs. It’s as if they were once Crestless who somehow extracted and obtained the power of a crest. Perhaps by the means of the most sacred and darkest of sorcery.

Just when you’re finally able to lower your sword, you raise it again to guard against another unwelcomed guest. With a stream of dark magic striking the earth in front of the Prince, you dash over to shield him from any other potential impacts. What you get instead is a mysterious hooded mage who doesn’t seem interested in challenging you. The magic that radiates off him is far stronger than any of the other soldiers.

“Well done on putting a stop to our little assassination plot,” he says. “But it seems we’ve already gathered a lot of valuable intel on our real target.”

“Who’s your real target then?” Jimin asks.

“Someone who can wield Hero’s Relics and slaughter crest bearers despite bearing no crest of their own.” The mage looks first at the bloodstained blade in your grips and then directly at you. His eyes are not so different from your own—empty.

Rather than the Prince’s head, they wanted you.

But why?

Before you can ask the man, he disappears into the unknown along with the bodies of his fallen soldiers. And although the outskirts are quiet once more with only you and the Prince, you keep your eyes peeled and wait a good ten seconds before sheathing your weapon.

You try to make sense of the enemy’s true intentions from a rational perspective, but the mage’s words still do not sit well with you. What exactly were they planning on doing with you, a Crestless who can wield Hero’s Relics and slaughter crest bearers?

“I won’t let them have you,” Jimin nudges your side, whilst holding the Aegis Shield out in front of you and him. “I’d even die for you.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” you play along with his dramatic scene just for a moment. Something about the boy makes you forget about your worries, your pain. “But please never die for my sake, Jimin.”

“Then how about I live for you?” he asks.

“Live first for the people of Fodlan,” you respond, hooking your arm once more around his. “Shall we return to the ball now before everyone wonders where their Prince ran off to?”

“No need. I already properly excused myself from the ball for the rest of the night.” Jimin frowns when you unhook your arm faster than you can swing your sword. “But I would like you to escort me back to my quarters.”

“Fine,” you agree. “But on the way back, you need to tell me why you lied about faking that real assassination threat.”

So he does.

“I still think it was a stupid move, Jimin.”

“I just wanted to take your mind off of your knightly duties without worrying about my safety for once! I thought you’d feel more comfortable with me if you knew my life was not in immediate danger,” he waves his hands in defense. “I didn’t think you’d actually abandon me.”

“Well sorry for thinking you made up the threat just so I’d sleep with you. You made me believe you weren’t taking the nature of your job seriously, and that the future of Fodlan was doomed with a ruler who thinks only with his cock,” you jab lightly into his ribs, forgetting all about the wound from the day before.

“Worry not. The future of Fodlan will always be my first priority,” he assures you. “But you are also part of Fodlan’s future, aren’t you? Doesn’t that still make you my first priority then?”

“When you put it that way, I guess so,” you say, though you genuinely wonder about that. Because as a Crestless, you’ve never felt like you belonged in Fodlan. “But just know that you needn’t go that far for me, Jimin.”

“And you needn’t act so tough all the time, Y/N.” He wants you to know that you can rely on him, that you can be vulnerable, and that he’ll protect you just as you protect him. You understand all of that, and yet, it’s still easier said than done.

Once you safely escort the Prince back to his quarters, you think you can finally relieve yourself of guard duty for the night and put some real thought into the mysterious mage’s intentions. But you’re wrong.

“Let me clean up that wound on your cheek before you go,” Jimin air-pokes the high point on your cheek.

“I didn’t realize I was cut there in battle…” you say, letting the boy reel you back into his room.

You sit patiently on his bed as he searches for a bandage, but you wouldn’t put it past the senseless Prince to not have any medical supplies lying around his quarters. You’re the one who’s usually tending to his wounds with your own first-aid kit anyway.

When not a single bandage is found, Jimin walks back over to you and pinches your cheeks together just as he had earlier in the day. You don’t quite understand the context this time, and especially not after he sneaks a kiss onto where your supposed wound was.

“That should heal the wound.” The smile on his face is too smug for your liking.

Very quickly, your face turns into a big fat pout. “If you continue to lie and fool around like this, you’re going to end up like the boy who cried beast.”

“For as sharp as you are in sniffing out an enemy, you sure are gullible around me, Y/N,” he teases.

“That’s because I want to believe that everything with you is real,” you say, “even if it can’t.”

The boy’s smile is quick to fade.

“Just kidding,” you shrug, getting up from the bed. “Anyway, I should get going now. Goodnight, Jimin.”

He doesn’t stop you. He can’t stop you because he knows you weren’t kidding about wishing for a fate that wasn’t meant for you. And that’s not something a kiss could ever change.

While you’re glad Jimin will be taking responsibility in prioritizing Fodlan from here on out, you still have much to be concerned about. Your presence has only complicated matters when the Prince is someone who thinks with his heart, not his head—to the point where he’d give up everything for you.

You’ve tried to make him set aside his personal feelings for the sake of Fodlan’s future, but it’s apparent that he cannot separate you, the one he wants to protect, from Fodlan, the land he needs to protect. He cannot see that, no matter how much he wishes for things to be different, you and all the other Crestless will never truly belong in the future of Fodlan—the Fodlan he will soon lead.

If you were to leave his side, perhaps he would be able to see that he’s trying to make the impossible possible. After all, unless Crestless are able to prove their worth to the nobles of Fodlan, they are worth nothing at all. The only way to prove your worth is to be merciless, tough, and to spare no blood. And maybe only then would Jimin be able to fully realize that this is where your two paths diverge.

It’s only after you’ve walked out and closed the door that you leave the Prince with one last thing to consider. “I know my place in this world, and it’s never been with you, Jimin. Even I’m not that gullible.”

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #jimin x reader #bts angst #jimin fanfic #bts royal au #bts fluff #jimin #bts #bangtan #blood to spare #fire emblem au #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #bts x fire emblem

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babypink-cowboy · 4 years

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[Selfish] [P.2]

[Selfish] [P.1]

Summary: Prince Jeon Jungkook has been preparing to become king for the last 3 years of his life. While Jungkook feels as he has a good head on his shoulder, shows concern for his people, and tries his best to be a fitting substitute for his father, he can’t but feel lonely.

With his father’s condition getting worse, Jungkook will now face his very soon reality of becoming king. Fully prepared to take on the weight of leading the Kingdom of Busan, until he meets his little sister’s new tutor. You were the kind of person that couldn’t help but be thought of all the time. So much so that he begins to lag behind on his royal duties.

But what about what happened during Princess Dae’s birthday celebration? Or how now you can’t keep Jungkook out of your head, even with the impending fate of him marrying someone else, you can’t seem to shake him.

Pairing: Prince!Jungkook x Tutor!Reader

Words: 4.8k

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook asks, your heart sputters and your eyes widen.

The prince wants to kiss me? Did I hear that right?

You lean towards him, standing on your tip toes, brushing your lips against his. “I would like that-“

“YOUR HIGHNESS!” An older man bursts out onto the balcony, you and Jungkook separate. The man’s suit slightly crumpled and he out of breath, “It’s your father, he’s collapsed.” You look at Jungkook, his face earlier was relaxed and calm, now it’s rattled with worry and stress.

“Lead me to him, Beomseok,” he tells the older man, Jungkook turns to you, “I’m sorry to cut this short, miss Y/N,” he tells you and bows. Before you can thank him for the short evening you two had already had, he was gone. Brushing back into the castle and out of reach.

“Thank you for walking me back to my room, Your Highness,” you thank the princess.

“It’s perfectly fine, it is the most royal thing to do,” Dae says as you both walk down the halls. “And please stop calling me your highness, just call me Dae,” she tells you.

You laugh a little, “Is this a royal sibling thing? Never wanting to be formally addressed?” you jokingly ask.

Dae laughs too and nods, “It seems so, but I think it’s because we want to feel a little normal,” she tells you, sounding a little far away with her final comment.

“You looked very lovely tonight, Dae,” you tell her to try and change the subject.

The young royal smiles widely, “You think so? I had been looking for a dress like this for a while and then one day at one of the fittings, there it was, just sitting in the back,” Dae chatters on about her dress and what she picked for it to make it look extra beautiful.

“You also looked lovely tonight, Y/N,” Dae compliments you, “It seems my brother also thought so,” she pushes. You smile and look at her, the little mischievous smile painting her mouth.

“What are you doing, Dae?” you tease, smirking back at her.

She feigns innocence, “Oh nothing, just seems like Jungkook was having a good time at the celebrations for once, never seen him like that before,” she tells you. You know that these are just little pieces she is laying out for you to pick up and hold onto later. Something to marvel and think about later tonight.

“Oh, we’re here already?” Dae says as you pause in front of your door, you nod and open the door.

“You will be okay going back?” you ask her and she nods.

“Of course, I will be, goodnight,” she tells you and bows and leaves. You watch the girl walk down the hall until she becomes smaller and smaller until you can no longer see her. You close your door and lean against it. You can help the smile that breaks out onto your face.

He wanted to kiss me. ME.

You cannot help but laugh at yourself a little as you wrap your arms around yourself. You stand and sway side to side, trying to recreate the memory of Jungkook’s arms around you, what it’s like to dance with him, what he smelled like, how his voice sounded. You let yourself wonder to when he thought you could not tell that he was looking at you, taking in every piece of you as if you were going to disappear.

You remember how his nose grazed your bare shoulder, you felt as if you might burn in the middle of the dancefloor. His hand on your cheek, his lips barely on yours, the tight warmth in your chest from earlier begins to bloom again.

“You seem lonely, Your Highness.”

“I think I am.”

Your heart sinks a little. The way his face looked as you danced, he seemed so far away, but when you said his name he came right back. Jungkook isn’t sure if he’s okay, you don’t think he could be, but he so good at putting up that front. A front that has probably been built on top of for years now, no wonder no one can see through it. Everyone but Dae, and now maybe even you.

You know you shouldn’t hold onto this, this small coin of hope. You don’t know what will come of this, but this is the first time you’ve felt enthralled about being the castle. Teaching is something you’ve always dreamed of, so getting to come to castle to tutor the princess was a high honor. Every day you have felt a weight of high expectations. You were from one of the outer villages, poorer than the rest but somehow you made it here. Now, the child of cattle farmers tutors the youngest royal and has the eyes of the other. Even with the uncertain future of where this little relationship could go, you still slip that small coin into your pocket, and in the back of your head you are wishing for it to multiple.

“ ‘Juliet: Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.’ ”

“ ‘Romeo: O, then, dear saint, lets lips do what hands do! They pray; grant thou; lest faith turn to despair.’ ”

“ ‘Saints do not move, though grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.’ ”

“ ‘Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take. Thus from my lips, by thine sin is purged.’”

“He kisses her,” you read, Dae’s expression is in complete focus, her back still perfectly straight but her hands are gripping the other with the strength of a vice. You glance at your watch, a gift from your mother that came in this morning, it’s 11. There is no Jungkook.

You smile sadly, “That is all for today,” you tell the young royal.

Her face drops, mouth pops open, “What? That’s all?” she asks you, her posture still unaffected.

“Dae, do you have your own copy?” you ask her.

She nods, “Yes, I do.”

“So,” you begin, “why don’t you just read it yourself?” you finish.

Dae looks down a little and plays with the layers in her gown. “Well, I like it better when you read,” she confesses.

“And why is that?” you ask while putting the book away and checking to see if you remembered your lunch this time or if you forgot again.

“Your voice is so much more prettier than mine, even though I’ve only begun my speech classes, I feel like I’ll never sound as pretty as you,” she tells you, her eyes still watching her fingers mess with the skirt of her dress.

“Dae,” you say looking up and out of your bag, “You have a wonderful voice, I remember when I was younger every little girl wanted to be you, they wanted to look like you, dress like you, sound like you,” you tell her. Dae looks up with a small smile on her face, “You should know that you’re remarkable, your highness.”

Dae smiles a little more. “Thank you,” she tells you. “Now go to lunch.”

You laugh and grab your bag, you wave Dae goodbye, even though you will see each other within the hour. With your bag on your shoulder you head out of the library and towards the garden, with it finally being spring and warm again you can’t resist the temptation of being outside. A few minutes of walking brings you to the entrance, the guards recognize by now and open the door as you walk near.

You nod as thanks and begin your walk around the garden. Bees are just now making an appearance, bumbling and bumping to the flowers. The butterflies are slowly making their way out, just little white and yellow ones fluttering about. It’s peaceful, this little stroll had become a part your everyday routine. When you’ve walked around for a bit, you sit on one of the benches and take off your shoes. With your shoes and socks hanging off of your fingers you walking in the grassy area of the garden, wiggling your toes into the thin blades. You finally settle onto a patch, crisscross your legs and pull out your lunch. You search through your bag, looking for the book you were reading for yourself, rice ball in your mouth and head in your bag.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” a voice asks.

You whip your head out of your bag, it’s Prince Jungkook, “Oof, M’ fif-“

Take the rice ball out of your mouth.

You tentatively take your lunch out of your mouth, “I mean to say, I’m fine,” you finally tell him. Jungkook smiles and lightly laughs.

“Well I only ask because you seem to be looking through your bag quite aggressively,” he tells you.

You laugh, “ah, I was looking for my book, but I can’t seem to find it,” you tell.

The little coin of hope in your pocket suddenly feels heavy as Jungkook watches you, “Would you mind if I stayed here with you?” he asks you. You feel yourself blush, the memory of dancing close to him hits you a little hard, leaving you a bit dazed. “Y/N, are you alright?” Jungkook asks, his face ghosted with concern.

You shake your head a little, “Yes, I’m alright, please stay,” you tell him.

“Thank you,” he tells as he settles down next to you.

It’s quiet, but it’s not awkward, thankfully. You silently offer him half of your lunch, he shakes his head, but you shake it a little at him. Jungkook smiles and nods, he takes one of the rice balls and pops it in his mouth.

“Good thing I made them smaller today,” you say after you finish swallowing. Jungkook laughs and takes a piece of your seaweed and munches on it. “Can I ask why you’re not with Dae today?” you question.

Jungkook nods and tentatively takes another strip of seaweed, “She said that she wanted to read,” he tells you. “She also told me that you would be here, so…” he trails off.

“So, you came to stalk me?”

“I’m pretty sure stalking is a lot less consensual,” he tells you, bumping his knee with yours.

“I don’t hear any denial,” you say, smirking at him, your lunch forgotten in your lap. “So, the prince is a stalker, and a stalker of his little sister’s tutor, hm, who would’ve thought?” you tease him.

Jungkook rolls his eyes playfully, “Would it be better if I got up and just stared at you from the entrance or even through one of the bushes?” he asks you, on the verge of laughing.

“I mean it would make you a better stalker.”

“I AM NOT A STALKER,” he playfully shouts. All staff and guards turn and look your way.

You blush but can’t help when the giggles bubble over, Jungkook joins too and soon both of you are laughing until your stomachs hurt.

“I don’t think you’re a very good stalker, Your Highness,” you say in between laughs.

“And what makes you say that?” he asks you, holding his hand over his stomach.

“Because,” you say as you finally catch your breath, “stalkers know how to be quiet,” you tell him. You let out a long happy sigh and lay down in the grass. You shove your hand into your bag and somehow you pull out your book.

You open to where you last left off, “What is it that you are reading?” Jungkook asks, trying to get a good look at the cover.

“It’s Jane Eyre, it’s a Victorian novel,” you tell him, “would you like me to read to you too?” you ask him.

“Too?” he asks.

You flip your book onto its face and place it on your chest. “Dae likes it when I read to her, sometimes she’s just like a little kid,” you tell him. “So, would you?” you ask him.

Jungkook taps his finger against his cheek, feigning to think hard, “I don’t know, what’s it about?” he asks you.

You put your hands behind your head, just to make it a little easier to look at him. “Well, it’s about this woman, Jane and she becomes a governess to this man, Mister Rochester’s, daughter, they fall in love and try to get married-“

“Try?”

“Hush and you will find out.” You tell him, “then, well, maybe I shouldn’t go there, I have read it before and I don’t want to spoil it,” you finish, slightly biting your lip.

Jungkook looks to be in actual thought now but he starts nodding his head. “It sounds interesting,” he says and makes his way onto his back and lays next to you. “Can you pick up where you left off?” he asks.

You realize now that it’s seems very possible to pop with joy.

For the last 3 days, you and Jungkook have laid out in the grass of the garden as you read Jane Eyre. You act as if you don’t notice Jungkook’s eyes following the shape of your lips more than the words on the page. You try not to grab his hand every time it comes close to yours. You especially try not to think about him after he walks you back to the library or when you go back to your room or during anything.

“ ‘Had you ever experience of such a character, sir? Did you ever love such an one?’

‘I love it now’

‘But before me: if I, indeed, in any respect come up to your difficult standard?”

‘I never met your likeness.” You read, Jungkook’s breath coming in soft puffs near your ear. You hold the book in one hand and flip your wrist to face you, it was almost time to go back to Dae and you haven’t eaten yet.

You tilt your head towards Jungkook, “I think this is a good place to stop today,” you tell him and close the book, sitting up and putting it back into your bag. “Would you like some of rice balls?” you ask him.

“Yes, I would,” he tells you and sits up, almost leaning onto you as you pull out your lunch. His fingers come up and pluck one of your rice balls and a piece of seaweed and you both happily and quietly chew your food.

A quick breeze brushes by, unlooping your hair from behind your ear and into your face. Before you could push it back, you feel Jungkook lean into your back and feel his fingers gently push your hair back behind your ear. Just the tiny bit of contact has made you full, you want to turn and look at him fully and tell him how you feel.

“Jungkook,” you say as you spin to face him. He’s looking at you with that baby soft look, the kind of look that you have found out in the last couple of days that melts you into you-sized puddles. It shrinks the wide words on your tongue to only their vowels. It makes you feel as if you are the only one meant to see this face, know this face, cause this face.

“Yes?” he asks.

You feel your cheeks warm, and drop your head but quickly pick it back up with a smile, “Thank you,” you tell him.

You can’t tell him how you feel, even if it is mutual, he’s a prince, you’re a tutor, there is nothing meant to be here.

“Anytime,” Jungkook tells you and stands, offers you his hand, you take it.

You both walk back to the library silently, not a bad quiet, just a quiet that has a million sparks running in it but you’re both a little scared that if you look at the other, you both just might explode. As you come to the library doors, you expect Jungkook to tell you goodbye or that he will see you again soon, but he doesn’t.

“Y/N,” he says, you turn to look at him. The young prince takes your hand and kisses it. “Will I see you tomorrow?” he asks.

You feel like your chest just might burst open from how warm and tight it feels, you nod, “Yes, see you then,” you tell him.

You feel that little coin of hope bump against your hip as you walk to the garden. Dae had to get your attention this morning you were so high up in the clouds. You were trying not to run, you know that nothing much will happen today, maybe he’ll lean against your back again, the weight of him against you is a heavy but it is welcomed. Or he’ll tuck a strand of your hair back behind your ear or bump his knee against yours. Or nothing at all will happen, you will just read to him and pretend like you don’t want him to lean over and hold your cheek like he did at the Dae’s birthday celebration and ask you again to kiss him. You only think of this because if Jungkook did do that, asked you for a kiss again, there would be no hesitation.

Before you just saw him at the prince, the future monarch, someone who you had only seen and heard of. Even when you first met Jungkook, though you found him extremely attractive because anyone who had met him or even gotten a glimpse of him had always said that he was handsome. But you were up close, you could see the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, but he only smiled like that for Dae. You could see how he could in a crowed room but can appear as if he is not even there. You could tell that he was lonely and that he was used to it.

That was something that bothered you as you settled into your pillow and sheets at night, that if there was affection between you and the prince, was it just because he was lonely? And not because he found you interesting or different? What if you just filled up a part of him that no one had fixed for him yet? Jungkook is 22, there should be some kind of arrangement to marry him to someone, right?

You cannot seem to shake the thoughts from your head as you settle into the grass, now the marked place where you and Jungkook lay. You let your fingers play in the grass, trying to wiggle the worry out through your fingertips.

“You seem deep in thought,” Jungkook says, suddenly popping out of no where.

Your eyes quickly jump to his, Jungkook has already settled down next to you, it’s hard not to see what he’s wearing. Instead of his normal military like suit, today he is in cotton white long sleeved shirt, that are tucked into his beige pants and matching shoes. “I didn’t hear you,” you tell him, laughing a little to hide the thoughts in your head.

He can’t read your mind.

“You’re dressed very casually today, what is the occasion?” you ask him, taking your eyes off of him and to your bag instead.

“My father wants me to meet some other diplomats today, we’ll be riding out on the horses,” he tells you as he lays down in the grass. You grab the book and settle down next to him, thumb on the page where you both left off from yesterday. Jungkook looks down at you, “Riding in a uniform is not very comfortable,” he tells you with a smile and a laugh.

You can’t help but laugh a little back, your head almost on his shoulder, “Can I ask why you are meeting them? Or is that prying?” you ask him. You watch as Jungkook’s eyes look away from your face and dart around the garden, your stomach drops a bit.

He looks back at you, smile on his face, “Just another meeting, different setting,” he tells you. You nod and open the page to where you all had left off. You don’t remember reading, just moving your mouth as you scanned the pages. This time Jungkook didn’t ask you any questions, didn’t bump your knee. When you both sat up and opened your lunch, Jungkook declined, and you didn’t push. When he walked you back to the library, he only bid you goodbye, didn’t kiss your hand. He just bowed and said, “See you tomorrow?” to which you just nodded.

Tomorrow came, but Jungkook didn’t.

You still read however, nothing had ever kept you from reading, a guy definitely won’t be the first. Even if he is a prince. You ate your lunch, but didn’t finish because you made enough for two. You slightly were hoping that Jungkook was just hiding on you, somewhere in the garden waiting for you to spot him. Then you could call him ‘a decent stalker’ and he would laugh and probably say that it’s what he’s been practicing lately. But he wasn’t.

Another day passed, you and Dae have finished Romeo and Juliet and decided to move on to another Shakespeare play, Othello. Jungkook still hadn’t shown up in the garden, not even in the bushes, you checked. Opening up Jane Eyre, you felt a small pit of guilt form in your stomach, you ignored it.

If he can’t be here, then he can’t be here. I’m not going to stop what I like to do just because he’s not here.

“He’s a prince,” you mutter under your breath, “He’s busy, and that’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay.

Another day passes and still no Jungkook, you were almost at the end of the book, you read faster when you’re not reading aloud. But coming to end of this book felt different from any other time you had read it, or any book at all for that matter. You couldn’t deny it, you felt guilty for not reading the rest with Jungkook. The little coin of hope you knew you shouldn’t have been carrying around was now too heavy to keep. You only wish it would go away, like you could actually hold it in your hands, and just hurl it off one of the towers. Or skip it across a stream. Or just lose it.

As you walked back to the library, Dae came running up on you, “Y/N! WAIT!” she called. You turn to see her with confusion on your face.

“What are you doing out here? We have to go back to class-“

“I can’t.” she tells you, out of breath. “A bunch of diplomats and other important people showed up and I have to greet them all, be a princess,” she tells you. “It’ll take a while, plus father wants me to sit in on the mid-day meeting today, he’s never asked me to do that before,” she says. “I guess Kookie could be getting married,” Dae says, a little sadly. She looks up at you, you hold yourself together, you aren’t going to cry, even though you can feel tears already pricking at your eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” Dae tells you, but you just shake your head and put on a smile.

“Sorry about what?” you ask her, a little surprised by your voice not cracking, “Go be a princess, we have tomorrow,” you tell her, bow, and leave before anyone can stop you.

You stayed in your room, didn’t peek out at all, not even for dinner. When you came back to your room, tears had already begun to slip down your face. Opening the door, closing it opened up the floodgates. You just couldn’t stop crying, Jungkook wasn’t even yours, he was just the boy you read to in the gardens and who would lean into your back to steal a rice ball even though you made extra just for him. He would tuck your hair behind your ear and would bump his knee with yours and you would pretend not to notice how he stared more at your mouth than listened to it. Jungkook was the boy who could make you laugh until your stomach hurt, he could make you feel like the only person in the whole kingdom. You make it to your bed, collapsing into it and curling underneath it’s sheets.

A knock on your door startled you, you bolted up in your bed. Your head was sore and a little sting-y from all of the crying. You still felt like you could cry more, remember more as you wake up. The knock came again, still scaring you as much as the first time, forgetting what had woken you up. You get up and shuffle to the door, opening it.

And there he was. And it hurts.

You swallow hard, “Your Highness,” you address.

Jungkook’s eyes soften as he makes his way to hold you, “Please, you know I don’t like being called-“ but as he pushes towards you, you pull back. “That.”

“I remember,” you tell him, “But that’s who you are, Your Highness, a prince and you should be addressed as such,” you say. “Good night,” you close the door, but Jungkook stops it.

“Please,” he tells you, “Just let me in,” he says.

You lean your head against the door, gritting your teeth to try and keep the tears at bay.

Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.

You pull the door open again and Jungkook looks up at you, relieved, until he sees your tears. This time when he pushes towards you, you don’t pull back. You let the door close behind Jungkook as he takes you in his arms. You curl your arms around his neck and bury your face in his shoulder. You want to yell at him, tell him to go away, be cold, be distant, be an island.

But you can’t. You won’t.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go as you sob into his shirt, he just rubs your back and hold your head as he whispers “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Your breathing evens out and you pull away from Jungkook slightly, only to have him push toward you again. He looks at you, his eyes full with desperation, of want, of question.

“I’ve asked you this before but, can I kiss you?” Jungkook asks you quietly.

You nod your head, and you feel his lips against your cheeks, your jaw, anywhere your tears have gone. Jungkook brushes he nose against yours and you look at him, the warm, tight feeling returning, but not in your chest, but in your toes, fingertips, eyelashes and nose. Jungkook lays his lips close to yours, but they don’t touch, he grazes over your mouth before finally gives into you.

Your heart beats at million miles a minute, you can hear it in your ears and you know Jungkook must feel it too. He leans into you, putting a little weight onto as you both begin to shuffle back to your bed. You both fall down, breaking your kiss for only a moment before Jungkook comes back again.

He’s betrothed, you need to stop!

But you won’t. You’ve waited, wanted this to happen for days on end, now it’s here.

You lean back on the bed, Jungkook follows, he begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. He pulls down your shirt over your shoulder and kisses it too. He trails over your collar bones and back to your neck where he begins to leave little hickeys. You push your fingers into his hair and tug gently on it, he responds by a sharp kiss. Jungkook makes his way back up to your lips and presses them together before breaking away and hovering over you.

His eyes flicker down then back up at yours, he swallows hard, “I’m sorry,” he tells you. “My father has begun to arrange marriages for Dae and I,” he says, and your stomach drops, your head begins to hurt again. Jungkook wipes your tears that begin to slip from your eyes before you even realized they did. “There isn’t anyone-“

“Yet,” you interrupt. “There isn’t anyone yet,” you repeat hoarsely, you squeeze your eyes close and try to breathe. “I don’t even know why I keep crying,” you say, Jungkook’s own eyes begin to look glassy. You push the both of you up, you almost sitting on top of him. “You’re not even mine,” you tell him as you gently place your hands on your cheeks, your thumbs wiping away his now falling tears.

“How can I be so selfish?” you ask, laughing a little, but Jungkook wraps his arms around you. “Falling in love with someone who isn’t, couldn’t be, mine?” you continue as he gently rocks you back and forth.

Jungkook rests his head on your shoulder, you play with the end of his hair as you slowly weep. “You’re not the selfish one,” he says, “I am.”

131 notes · View notes

shra-vasti · 4 years

Text

Pairing : Soonyoung x reader

Title : Reminiscence

Genre : slice of life, fluff, non idol au, ex-lovers au

Warnings : none

Synopsis : In which, you decided to meet up with your ex after years of break up for the first time.

A/N : Pleas enjoy the read and reblog if you like. Thankyou so much for showing so much support to this blog and the content. You guys really are the best. Have a great day ahead <3

"You're more...different than what you were the last time I saw you."

Your voice was a low whisper but he still managed to catch it like he always did in the past.

You look into his eyes and you could see a sense of hesitation that lied deep within his eyes.

"How have you been?" he asked dodging your comment and putting the spotlight on you.

"Fine....more than fine." you smiled at him awkwardly. It has never been so awkward with his presence unlike now.

Your throat suddenly went dry again as your mind wondered what now. What his next question will be? Why is he the only one asking questions?

"That's great..."

There was that deafening and awkward silence once again. You looked around the cafe you were currently in. The soft melody playing in the background suited the soft environment of the cafe.

Not many people entertained this cafe making it an awesome place to have some catchup on each other's life without the obnoxious voices of crowds.

"How's the university life treating you?"

You thought about what all things happened in your university, from the good to bad moments, the new friends you made, the new life lessons you learned throughout the freshman and sophomore year.

"Great. Life has never being so amazing." you sighed contently as you recalled the memories attached with the university.

You were currently majoring in biology, you were never good with mathematics. You loved biology and it was easy for you, eleminating the chance of getting too worked up and regretting the decision.

Soonyoung always admired your dedication towards your goal and he always looked up to you for that.

"That's good to hear." he answered, immediately smiling as he saw how happy you were with where you were in your life.

He was happy for you, he has always been. He always admired your way of living and thinking. You were like any other girl of your age yet so different.

You were careless but independent and responsible, he remembered. You had your own perspective of life and the things revolving around you, that was the thing that lured him towards you.

You never seemed to make an effort to stand out among others but others nonetheless were very aware of your presence.

You would just hang out among your friend circle, which he soon learned that you were introverted but that was the thing which intrigued others about you, the kind of mysterious aura you gave off due to your introverted nature.

"What about you?" it was a question of formality although you knew his life has been nothing but a mess.

He chuckled at that shaking his head and taking a sip of his coffee.

"What should I say? It's a mess. I was never this serious for anyone else other than you, but she too left me in the end."

Soonyoung was never the one who would hide his emotions just because he was a man. You, of all people knew him very well to see where he was coming from. He never hide his emotions from you.

Your heart sank at his words as you felt how hard it must have been for him. He was never great with handling heartbreaks.

When the first time you talked with him even after being batch mates for years, he reminded you of Spring.

Warm, lively and delicate.

He had this sophisticated idea about life.

He just wanted to get a job, enjoy every weekends with either his family and friends, date and marry the love of his life, have kids, live happily ever after.

He was warm. His hugs were always welcoming and loving. When he used to hold your hands in his, they were always surprisingly warm irrespective of weather.

He was friendly, always had this overly good smile plastered on his face which made you smile back at him with or without the mood to return the gesture.

Due to his friendly nature he usually came off as a goody two shoes who always had some unspoken intentions behind every kind deed he did.

He was the most kindest and softest person you had ever come across with and at some point you were proud to call him yours.

He was a hopeless romantic, giving in to all your wishes, apologising to you even when it was you who was at fault. He was understanding and a sweetheart.

Always gave you these cute little meaningful gifts on special occasions which used to make your heart flutter. He was very loving.

Your relationship was very loving, sweet and cozy with zero problems. Everybody thought your relationship was too good to be true.

When anyone asked him about you he always referred to as autumn.

Cool, impassive and tough.

You were a curious type of person who wanted the world.

You wanted to travel the world, write a book, learn many new things, have a great job and salary, achieve your goals and complete your bucketlist.

You wanted to study hard to get highly paid and live a luxurious life.

Idea of marriage and settling didn't necessarily came into your mind although you didn't dispise the idea.

But living a normal life without any fun was not you. You wanted each of your day to be filled with excitement. You wanted a good reason to be alive.

You didn't care how people perceived you. You were strong enough to endure people calling you selfish and insensitive.

And the idea of life which Soonyoung had was completely opposite of what you dreamed for yourself.

Maybe that was the reason for your abrupt break up because you were in love but just weren't meant to be.

Opposite do attract but you would never sacrifice your future for the sake of someone else happiness. You were selfish like that.

So you broke up for your own good.

"That's sad, you didn't deserve it. I hope your pain eases soon."

"I hope my pain eases soon too."

There was this lingering nostalgic feeling around him. He reminded you of your teenage self and being around him brought you back on so many memories you left behind.

He was never this dull. His lively aura was still inside him but it didn't light up the surroundings like it use to.

He was open to you but only because it was you. You could sense he was more broken. The smile which always adorn his face didn't quite reach his eyes.

He was broken, so broken that you wanted to piece him up together but that's not what you were supposed to do.

It was his responsibility to piece himself together and learn from his mistakes. He needed to learn to not trust people so easily although you always loved his innocent self.

"Found someone for yourself?" his question was casual and he looked at you with expressions you weren't much sure about.

You found yourself shaking your head a no, where was the lie? You tried dating others after Soonyoung but none of them seem to be as perfect as he was.

You longed his presence, you never found anyone like him. They were too broken up, shaken up or hurt enough to be as good as Soonyoung was, is.

"That's a great news, it would have hurt me to learn that there's someone out there making you more happy than I did."

How could he, even after all the hurt he went through, be so casual about the topic and still somehow be proud at himself due to your lack of ability to find a better half?

"You mean to say I don't deserve to be as happy as I used to be when I was with you?"

He raised his eyebrows at you at that, his lips forming an "O" is disbelief.

"I did not mean that." he said in a stern voice but you couldn't take him seriously as you burst into fits of laughter.

"How you always manage to rotate the topic 180° will forever remain a myth to me. You know I never meant that. I would rather give you my share of happiness if you happen to lack it in your life you know?"

You had no doubt in that.

"Yeah yeah whatever."

You blew some of the hair which flew on your face trying to avoid the eye contact with him.

He always made you flustered where you don't know what to do to hide the blush forming on your face.

He laughed at your failed attempt to hide that you are flustered.

Although he was genuinely proud that he was the only one who made you this happy but he wished secretly if he could still do it, he wanted you to find someone who genuinely shared same passion as you and made you more happier than he ever did.

"You're more skinner and look more lifeless now." you pouted looking at him.

It surprised you how casually you two were talking with each other and how the conversation was just flowing smoothly.

You rather imagined being awkward from start to end and awkwardly spilt off with heavy heart but this was nothing like that.

Then again it was Soonyoung you were talking about, nothing about that guy is awkward.

It was natural for you to act so casual with each other. It has always been so you weren't sure about how it would be after meeting him after so many years.

He eyes still held the warmth they had when you were together. No sign of resentment for leaving him to chase your dreams. No bad thoughts, he just wanted to enjoy and relive in your presence.

"Sadly. But I'm working out." he said as he showed off his muscles and biceps.

You shook your head at him laughing slightly. Your cheeks were already hurting from smiling and laughing too much, something you genuinely missed doing from a long time.

He looked at you as you smiled at him finishing both of yours coffee with a really soft smile dancing across his face.

"You know I will never be able to get over you." he sighed as look at you.

You tilt your head in confusion although you knew what he meant.

He shook his head at your confused face continuing his words.

"You're like my home. I will wonder in different places but when I seek peace I always tend to find a way to approach you. You don't know how many times I was just one click away from dailing you number or messaging you on Instagram."

Your heart swell as you heard him. You were happy that atleast he thought about you like that.

"I am not hinting you to date me or anything don't get that wrong. I wanna enjoy my freedom for sometime but we can at least be friends right?" he asked with hopeful eyes.

"Friends for sure." you said taking his phone from the table and asking him for the password which he gave with a confused expression.

You dialed your new number and gave yourself a call, handing him the phone back as you opened your phone.

"Save it. It's my new number. Let's hangout sometime?" you asked him feeling shamefully happy that atleast you had him back as a friend as it is.

Neither of you wanted more but being back in each other's lives was enough for both of you.

82 notes · View notes

kim-chann · 4 years

Text

“Love?” [Osomatsu X Reader]

This was written on Wattpad, but I decided to post some written stories here too. Anyways, this was requested for a while back on Wattpad, but I decided to share it here on Tumblr too.

"(Y/n)-chan, it's an emergency! (Y/n)-chan!!" Osomatsu screams, bursting into your room.

You turn your head, eyes wide as Osomatsu runs into your room, a face full of distraught in urgency, "What's wrong?! Did Karamatsu go missing?!"

"No--"

"Did Choromatsu lose his Nyaa-chan tickets?"

"No--"

"Did Ichimatsu lose ESP Kitty again?"

"No--"

"Did--

"No!" He interrupts you before you continue blabbering anything about his younger brothers. He pants, still recovering from running to your house. "It's not about my brothers," He sucks up a breathe, "Totoko-chan's looking for a boyfriend!"

"..." You stare at him. "Eh?"

"I know right! Now's my chance, (Y/n)-chan! I can finally ask her out!" He cheers, jumping up and down, doing handstands and dancing around chanting, 'girlfriend' with a blush on his cheeks.

"Oh..." You feel your heart throb painfully, a heavyweight pressing on your chest, watching Osomatsu cheer on, extremely happy that Totoko was looking for a boyfriend.

You knew that Osomatsu has had a crush on Totoko ever since he was a child. Of course, he would, she was much prettier than you anyway! (You're very beautiful, don't listen to my writing). You sigh and force on a smile as you block out the sad feeling in your gut, trying so hard not to shed tears right in front of him.

"That's very," you swallow a breath, "good to hear...!"

Osomatsu stops cheering, before taking your hands in his, "You gotta help me!" He exclaims, his eyes glistening with confidence. "Train me."

"...What do you mean?"

"Train me to become a good boyfriend for Totoko-chan!"

"What--"

He goes on his knees, not even letting you answer, "Please! Please! You're my best friend! You gotta help me! Please, please, please--!"

He grabs on your ankles, repeating his begs as he cries at your feet.

"Okay, okay! Please stop!" You beg back, hating Osomatsu begging for someone that can never be you.

"Really?" He immediately gets up from the floor and stands up straight, "That was easier than I thought! Lucky!~" He rubs his index finger under his nose and laughs.

You glare at him before crossing your arms, "Fine. Okay, when do we start? Tomorrow? Next Saturday? Sun--"

"Now!"

"Now?!"

"Yes!"

You open your mouth, struggling to find words, before sighing out in defeat. You were happy for Osomatsu, you were. But knowing that fact that he's come for your advice for a woman that he loves on which was not you, it was very hard not to hold in the heavyweight in your chest. But as long as he was happy, you were happy

You turn to him, "Okay, fine."

"Show me how you'd dress if you were going in a date with Totoko-chan." You say.

You were creating up scenarios and observing how Osomatsu would react to them, before giving him advice and correcting things. Osomatsu immediately dragged you to his home when you agreed to help him, making it easier for you to create scenarios when everything he owned was in his house anyway.

He shuffles behind the paper door before opening it with a grin. Osomatsu was wearing his signature red hoodie with some jeans that he always wore.

"What? You didn't even change." You acknowledge, an eyebrow quirked at his actions. "Huh? I can't wear what I like to wear on dates? Lameee." He drags out his last remark, arms crossed behind his head as he puckers his lips in disappointment.

"Well, you can wear what you like on dates as long as it's casual. But knowing Totoko-chan she would always want her man prettied up for her to brag about on social media, you know? Try something more... formal." You critique, snapping your fingers in emphasis.

Osomatsu nods and hums at the same time, "You gotta point, (Y/n)-chan... so what do I wear?" He tilts his head.

"You can always wear a suit."

Osomatsu runs over to the closet and changes into the usual blue suit that he and his brothers all have. "Tada!~ Will Totoko-chan date me now?~ Hehe~" He winks.

You smile at him, eyebrows arched in appeal, "...Well," You say, trying to find the right words, "It can work, but do you have any other suits?"

He shakes his head.

You sigh, 'That won't due at all.' You think to yourself. You clear your throat, "Well since this is just training, make sure to buy a new suit because your blue one is overused and a bit old, is it not?"

"Ehh? But suits are expensive!" He pouts, puckering his lips.

You find yourself guilty as you pull out a 10,000 yen bill ($100). "Here, don't use it on Panchi--"

He swats it away from your hands as soon as you pull it out, "Yahoo! I can win big looting with this much money!! Yaho--" "AHEM."

He stops when you glare at him, "Use it on a cheap suit. Don't you use it on gambling, Oso. This is serious. Do you want to be Totoko-chan's boyfriend or what?"

He immediately calms down and sits on the ground, face serious, ready for your next scenario.

You didn't know why but you would felt a bit happier if he spent the money on Panchinko than Totoko. But you clear those thoughts from your head and tell him to stand up.

"How would you hold her hand?"

Osomatsu grabs your hand and interlocks his fingers into yours. You feel your heart hammer in your chest and eyes grow wide as your cheeks grow red. 'No,' you think. 'I can't, this is for Totoko-chan, not for you!'

You hold his hand, feeling it, before your face scums up in disgust, "Why are your hands so clammy?"

You feel Osomatsu tense up a bit, "Uh... umm."

Oh my fucking God. EW.

You yank your hand away from his, wiping it on your pants. "Gross! Gross!" You yell, the feeling of his clammy hands lingering on your hand was still buzzing strong. "Lesson number one!" You exclaim, "Wash your hands after jerking off!!"

It was late evening as you took Osomatsu out for a walk before his brothers go home, not wanting them to interrupt your 'dating session' with Osomatsu.

Your cheeks were still flared up a bit, knowing that you indirectly touched his dick from his hands. Disgusting. But honestly, you touch both his hand and his dick? What a combo-- Okay, that's enough.

Your lesson this time was trying not to make the atmosphere awkward with your date. That was important. But it was a bit difficult, knowing that you just held his clammy hands after he just recently jerked off. Even Osomatsu was flustered. Strange.

"Osomatsu, try to start a conversation, it's getting awkward..."

"Ah! Right, right."

He clears his throat before he thinks to himself for a moment, "So, um... (Y/n)-chan," He starts off, "Did you like the date?"

Him using your name as training was a bit difficult, not knowing if he was getting into character or not. But you really wished he wasn't. "It was really good, Oso! Thank you for taking me out!" You giggle, smiling.

He giggles too, his cheeks dusted with pink.

"But if Totoko-chan didn't like it, what do you say?"

"You ungrateful, bitch."

"NO!"

"Eh--"

"For the love of God-- NO! That's the last thing you wanna say to her!" You say, trying so hard to contain your laughter.

"Ehh? But I'm trying my best! I'm sensitive here!" He puckers his lips and pouts again.

"Yes, I know that, Oso. But please just be gentle on women. If you really rile Totoko-chan up, I don't want her to hauler up your ass!"

"Oho~? You care about me, (Y/n)-chan. You're so cute!" He teases, him ruffling your hair.

"Of course, I'm your best friend!" You force yourself to say 'friend', trying not to damage your heart than it was already was.

Osomatsu remains silent at your remark before he yawns, "I'm tired."

"Don't yawn during your date, she'll think you're bored of her."

"Geez, why are women so complicated and overreact to everything we men do?" He rolls his eyes.

"I don't know, that's how this generation works now I guess." You pause, "But you're tired, right? Let's end the training session for today for we can continue tomorrow." You stop walking and look at Osomatsu.

"But I'm gonna ask her out tomorrow!"

"What? But that's too soon!"

"Eh... you win some you lose some. I gotta shoot my shot before anybody else gets on that sweet piece of ass!" He laughs.

Your eye twitches, trying not to kick him in the balls. "Osomatsu, don't say that at loud in front of Totoko, she'll just think you're just using her for a one night stand."

Osomatsu sighs and nods, "Fine, fine."

"Okay, before we go on our separate ways, let's review," You clear your throat, "The first thing you're gonna do tomorrow?"

"Buy a suit."

"What should you always do with Totoko-chan?"

"Listen to what she has to say, and don't question too much about her."

"Good. What about on a date?"

"Start conversations, and don't talk about yourself. Let Totoko-chan do most of the talking and only answer if she's asking you."

"What's another important thing you should remember?"

"...Smile at the appropriate time-- god, why do I have to do that?" He complains.

"If you stare at a girl and smile at her the whole time, she'll think you're a huge creep."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He says.

"And the last one for now: when should be the appropriate time to confess?"

"When you feel it in your gut and she has your attention..."

You smile, "Good! You did great." You say, ruffling his hair as he chuckles.

"Anyways, go get plenty of rest now, and go get Totoko-chan tomorrow!" You say, before you part ways, waving.

Osomatsu watches you go, a blush on his cheeks. He feels his heart hammering when he remembers the feeling of your hand run through his dark-brown locks. It was comforting. Really, really, comforting. He understands why Ichimatsu really likes head starches a lot now. He watches your figure disappear from his sight.

His body was tense.

His mind was trying to memorize what was his plan for tomorrow but it was all wiped down to one thing: (Y/n).

Why was he feeling like this? This was for Totoko-chan, right? When he tries to replace the image of you with Totoko-chan, his feelings turn a bit sick before automatically picturing your face once again.

...

Oh.

God... how was this gonna work tomorrow?

You dig your feet into your ground, a nervous blush on your cheeks as you lean against the tree. Why did Osomatsu call you out? Was he going to need help shopping?

"Oyyy! (Y/n)-chan!!" Osomatsu calls, gaining your attention. You turn your head as your eyes grow wide. He was wearing a red suit, what was going on?

"Oh wow, Oso! You look great!" You compliment. You felt a bit relieved that the money that you gave him was not spent on Panchinko but on a really great suit. You felt proud of yourself for that one.

Osomatsu giggles, a blush on his cheeks. "Thanks! You look hot too, babe!"

Woah what. You feel your cheeks redded at the sudden nickname, "W-Woah, where did that come from?" You ask, but secretly, you really liked it.

Osomatsu rubs his index finger under his nose. "Hehe, just thought I'd try it out."

You smile before you tug on his suit, "Not that I'm complaining, but why are you wearing your suit now? You should take it for Totoko-chan later today." You note, crossing your arms.

Osomatsu's cheeks dust with pink, "Oh... it's nothing really. Don't mind me." He says, shaking his head. "Okay...?"

He clears his throat, "Okay, let's go, I'm going to take you somewhere where you haven't been before. It's gonna be great!" He laughs, his hand gripping on your wrist gently before tugging you forward, making you run with him.

Shock is the only thing you can really feel at this moment. But nonetheless, you really enjoyed it.

"How'd you reserve such a restaurant like this?" You say, sitting down at the table where the server led the two of you too.

Osomatsu giggles, "Secret, babe."

You blush again, "But I thought this was for Totoko."

Osomatsu's eyes widen when you mention her, trying to find his words, "...I'm just trying to pay you back."

"Oh! Well, you didn't really need to go this far, you know?" You smile at him.

Smile at the appropriate times

Osomatsu smiles at you, and shakes his head, "Nah, you deserve this. Besides, you've been too nice for a NEET like me."

"Wow, that is the first time you really admitted that you're a NEET." You raise your brows at him.

He stammers for a bit, "Well, I don't know. It just slipped out, babe." His poor excuse made you giggle at his awkwardness.

A server comes to your table as the both of you order, with smiles on your faces.

Silence grows between the two of you, as Osomatsu can feel his feat sweat as he fumbles with his suit.

Start conversations

"So um, (Y/n)-chan," Osomatsu starts, clearing his throat. "How are things lately?"

"Um? We just hung out yesterday. But I guess things are well. How about you? Ready to confess to Totoko later today?" You ask, leaning into the table, taking your drink straw in your mouth.

He feels himself grow uneasier by the second, he didn't want to spend the whole date... wait date? Yeah! Date! The thought was burned into his head as his cheeks flare up a shade of red. "Y-Yeah! I'm so r-ready!"

"Are... you okay?" You ask, leaning up, sitting straight.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it."

He dares himself to look up at you in the eyes as his lips fall into a flat line. He wants to change up the subject about (Y/n) but how?

Listen to what she has to say, and don't question too much about her.

'Right, right.' He thinks to himself, confidence coming back to him. "I'm just wondering, what are some random facts about you?" He blurts out.

You blink, "Umm... well, I really like (favorite food), and I enjoy (favorite hobby), and hang out with you if that counts as a random fact, haha." You laugh.

'Was that a flirt? Was she flirting?' Osomatsu questions himself, his eyes locked on your joyed expression, admiring your amused face.

"What about you? What are some facts about you that I don't know?"

Osomatsu yelps, realizing that you were asking him a question, "Oh um... I did... I did ballet as a child--"

You burst out laughing, "Oh my god really?"

"Heyyy!"

"Don't get me wrong, it really suits you." You say, giggling to yourself.

"Is that an insult? You're so mean, babe!" He crosses his arms, making you laugh even more.

"No! No, I'm sorry! Please continue." You encourage.

Osomatsu huffs, "I'm really good at shooting games at the arcade."

"Ooh, that's pretty cool! I'm not that bad at those games."

He smiles, "And um... I don't know what else there is, haha~" He puts an arm behind his head, laughing it off.

"Don't worry about it." You say, laughing with him.

The server soon comes with the food, as the two of you dine in, conversing in conversations and having good laughs. He was doing a good job avoiding the subject of Totoko because he remembers these tips:

Smile when it's appropriate

Start conversations

And... listen to what she has to say, and don't question her too much.

"Man I'm stuffed!" Osomatsu says, stretching.

"Same." You whine, walking out of the restaurant.

"Their food was top notch, would go there again if I had money again." His remark caused you to laugh.

"Where'd you get the money anyway?"

Osomatsu freezes up, "You..."

"Eh? Me? I thought you used it for the suit!"

"No, no, my dad came with me and bought me a suit to dress more appropriately." He says, rubbing his finger under his nose.

"Ahh, okay." It made more sense how a high-quality suit was bought more than 10,000 yen.

"Let's go, I wanna show you something," Osomatsu says, taking your hand into his. His hands were no longer clammy, it was soft. You were glad that he listened to you.

The two of you walked, hand in hand, listening to the crisp air as you walked down the sidewalk. The atmosphere wasn't awkward, so Osomatsu didn't bring up any conversations.

The two of you stopped at the park before he invites you to sit down on the bench with him. You smile before sitting down close to him, his hand still in yours.

"Woah, the stars look so pretty tonight." You say, looking up. Osomatsu looks up at you before gulping, a blush on his cheeks. His hands begin to grow sweaty as he holds yours a bit tighter.

You turn to him with a smile on your face, making him blush. "Thank you so much for taking me out today, Oso. I really appreciated it." You giggle, caushing him to struggle to find his words.

You looked so pretty in the moonlight.

Your smile.

Your eyes.

Your personality.

You were beautiful.

He gulps.

Confess when you feel it in your gut and she has your attention

"(Y/n)-chan," he calls, putting his free hand on top of the hand that was holding his other hand. "I need to tell you something."

"Yes, Oso?"

He feels his heart hammer out of his chest before he sucks in a breath, "I... I really like you! Please go out on a date with me again!" He shuts his eyes and places his forehead on your folded hands, bowing.

"I know I asked you for help about Totoko-chan, but I realized..." He raises his head, nervous tears in his eyes, "That I like you! Not Totoko-chan." He halts, "Please!"

Your eyes were wide as you stare at Osomatsu with your lips agape. You struggled to find words. But the only thing that comes in your mind repeatedly.

'Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy, shit--'

You feel his hands grow loose on yours, realizing that you were frozen up for took long. You quickly grab his hands again before making him face you, "Of course! Osomatsu! I'd love to date you!" You yell in his face, releasing all your built-up feelings for him, not knowing how to fully express it.

The next second, you feel yourself being lifted in the air, Osomatsu's arms on your waist and spins you around, him crying out in happiness. He drops you gently on the ground before he pulls you into a hug, and kisses your temple before screaming out, "Thank you so much Akatsuka-sensei!!!"

#Osomatsu #osomatsu san #Osomatsu-san #oneshot #fanfic #osomatsu headcanon #osomatsu hc #fluff #osomatsu x reader

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bitchin-beskar · 4 years

Text

Folklore

Rating: T (warning, high levels of fluff ahead)

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: YAY! We’re finally here! We got through some of the angst, and now I am happy to present a chapter that is 100% free from angst! (Well... almost. Kind of? For the most part.) Be warned friends, extreme fluff and feels ahead, because I NEEDED something happy to write about, and this presented the perfect opportunity. I hope you guys like it!!

Tags: @mxndoscyarika, @perropascal, @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379

Let me know either in the comments or an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, or any of my other works!

mirrorball

You stood nervously in front of the mirror, hands smoothing down the front of your dress. You’d never worn anything like this in your entire life, and you highly doubted you ever would again. The dress was actually made of two pieces, both a deep midnight blue. The top piece had no sleeves, and the collar came up to your neck. The skirt piece was almost directly beneath the top, leaving a sliver of skin showing. The skirt flowed out from there, all the way down to your feet. Towards the bottom of the skirt, the fabric was covered in little rhinestones, and you thought it looked like stars in the night sky. When you twisted back and forth, your high heels peeked out from beneath your swirling skirts, the same deep blue as your dress. They were higher heels than you’d ever worn before, and you felt a little unsteady, but you were relatively confident you weren’t going to fall over.

“Can I come back in, now?”

You start at the sound of Frankie’s voice, just outside his bedroom door. Your cheeks heat up, and you begin to panic, not sure if you’re ready for him to see you like this. Your hands flutter nervously around your skirt, trying to smooth imaginary wrinkles, and straighten your top for the thousandth time. When you finally can’t put it off any longer, you call for him to come in.

The door opens, and Frankie walks in, and you take a moment to appreciate his own outfit. It had been a struggle, but you’d managed to get Frankie to agree to a tie and dress shirt, along with dress pants and shoes, although he’d drawn the line at an actual suit. His tie matched your dress, and he already had his sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows, although you couldn’t really complain, because he looked extremely attractive like that. His hair was somewhat tamed, but still somewhat wild, and with his stubble covering his jaw, you kind of wanted to swoon.

You can tell the second Frankie’s brain processes what you’re wearing, because he stops mid-sentence. “Hey, are you ready to–”

His eyes are glued to you, and you watch as a blush spreads across his cheeks. He gulps, and it echoes loudly in his quiet bedroom. His eyes rove over your form, and you smile shyly, spreading your hands in a ‘what do you think?’ gesture.

He slowly moves into the room, holding his hand out to you. You step forward, placing your hand in his, and you’re pleasantly surprised when he leads you in a twirl, allowing you to spin in place, your skirt flying out around your legs. When you face Frankie again, he has this look in his eyes, one you’ve never seen before. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, and he pulls you forward just as he leans in, and places his lips on yours. You’re surprised once more, and also grateful you’d decided to forego lipstick tonight. He kisses you for a long time, pulling away briefly for air a few times before pressing his lips sweetly back to yours once more. It’s only when you hear Mrs. Morales calling from downstairs that the two of you separate.

The look in Frankie’s eyes hasn’t disappeared, if anything, it’s even more pronounced. “Como una princesa,” he whispers against your lips, and you can’t help but kiss him again. Mrs. Morales has to call a second time before the two of you actually make your way downstairs.

As you descend the staircase, Veronica Morales has tears in her eyes as she looks at you. She’s holding her camera, snapping picture after picture, and you can’t help but wish your own mother was as excited as Mrs. Morales was about tonight. Your mother had thrown a fit when you’d told her you wouldn’t be going to prom with whoever it was that she’d picked out that she thought was ‘socially acceptable.’ You knew what she meant by that. She hated that you were dating Frankie, she considered him to be beneath you, both because of class and race. You refused to let Frankie come over, because the last time he had, your mother had called him a ‘dirty immigrant’ and you’d nearly slapped her.

You refocused as Mrs. Morales ordered Frankie out of the way so she could get some pictures of just you. She gestured for you to spin, and you did, once, twice, three times–

Your heel slipped, and you would have fallen if not for Frankie’s arms suddenly around your waist, holding you up. You were in a partial dip, looking up at Frankie as he held you, effortlessly. The two of you were startled by the flash, and Mrs. Morales just giggled as Frankie pulled you upright. She took a few more photos, some of just Frankie, but mostly of the two of you together, before shooing you both out the door.

“¡Estar en casa a medianoche, Francisco!”

You giggled as Frankie flushed, following as he tugged you down the driveway to his truck. He opened the door for you and helped you inside, situating your dress so it wouldn’t wrinkle. He ran around to the driver’s side, climbing in beside you, and pulling out, grumbling as you waved goodbye to Mrs. Morales.

The drive to the high school wasn’t long, but Frankie still held his hand out, palm up, like he always did. And you put your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, like you always did. You pulled your joined hands into your lap, stroking at his fingers with your other hand.

“Did you mean what you said, Frankie?”

He turns to look at you, his eyes dark in the dim light available in the cab. “Every word, mi amor.” You grin, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand as he looks back at the road, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel.

As the two of you pull into the school parking lot, you see all of the other couples arriving. You take pride in the fact that Frankie seems to be one of the only ones who opens the door for his date, for you. He helps you out of the truck, and you can practically feel stares from other girls from school, but you’re so giddy you can’t bring yourself to care.

He leads you into the gymnasium with a hand on your back, and you can feel the bare skin of his hand on the small sliver of bare skin around your waist. It shouldn’t excite you, but it does, and you can barely stop yourself from dragging him down the hall towards the broom closet the both of you know intimately.

You’re surprised at the effort that went into transforming the gymnasium, fairy lights strung everywhere, curtains covering the walls hide the bleachers and the basketball hoops, and there’s an honest to god disco ball over the dance floor. There’s a buffet against one of the walls, but you pull Frankie straight onto the dance floor. There’s a pop song playing that you don’t recognize, but you begin to dance anyways, and Frankie goes along with you, smiling softly all the while.

It takes longer than you would have liked, but finally a slow song comes on. You turn to Frankie, eyes sparkling, but he’s already holding his hand out for you to take it, pulling you into his arms the moment you do. The two of you sway together, surrounded by other couples, although most of them admittedly look a bit awkward. There’s nothing awkward between you and Frankie though, and as you dance, you lay your forehead against his shoulder, relishing in the way his grip on you tightens. His hand is warm against your back, and you can feel his heartbeat under your palm, and you’ve never been this happy in your life. When the song ends–far too soon for either one of you–Frankie takes the lead, pulling you out of the gym and towards the back of the school.

The two of you sneak out a back door, and that’s when Frankie pauses, turning to you and sweeping you up into his arms, bridal style. You squeal, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders as he begins to walk, and with your face buried in his shoulder, you don’t know where you’re going until he sets you down. You look up, and realize he’s brought you to the park that’s just behind the high school. There’s swings and a slide, but also a small covered area, dotted with plants and little lamp posts. It’s where he first asked you out, and you want to cry at the gesture.

Frankie turns to you, holding his hand out once more. “¿Un último baile, princesa?” You smile at his words, once more placing your hand in his. Frankie leads you in a dance, one his mother spent hours practicing with the two of you, insisting that the both of you know at least one formal dance for prom. As you twirl around the covered garden, you feel your heart swell, happier than you could ever imagine being.

As the dance ends, Frankie twirls you once, twice, three times, before he pulls you to him, feet stilling on the ground. Your chests are pressed together, both of you breathing heavily from the exhilaration of the dance, the excitement of sneaking out, the joy of being here together. You’re so happy, you don’t even think when the words fall from your lips.

“I love you.”

You barely have time to register that you’ve spoken those words out loud–for the first time ever–before Frankie’s eyes darken, and his mouth crashes onto yours. He kisses you, frantically, desperately, trying to convey every emotion he feels that he doesn’t have the words to describe. He only pulls away when you’re panting, breathless, head spinning as you try to replace the oxygen he stole from your lungs. His forehead leans against yours, and you can see the love he has for you shining clearly in his beautiful eyes.

Even though you already know, he still says it. “I love you, mi amor, so much.”

As you grin, delighted, and pull him back in for another kiss, you think there’s no possible way you could ever love anyone else the way you love Francisco Morales.

***

“You’ll find me on my tallest tiptoes

Spinning in my highest heels, love

Shining just for you.”

#Folklore #Taylor Swift #mirrorball #inspiration #fics #Frankie x reader #reader fic #Francisco Morales #Reader #no use of Y/N #FLUFF #happy cute fluff #I hope it makes you squeal #cause I did while writing it #song fic #album inspired fic

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pastthebutterflies · 4 years

Text

Amantes Maledic

Fundamentally, human dances and witches’ balls sound the same: fine clothes, plentiful food, corny decorations, endless dancing. Amity has to admit, without the added risk of being cursed hanging over your shoulder, human dances almost sound like more fun. Almost. Or, Luz and Amity go to a dance and gay panic ensues.

Read here or at https://archiveofourown.org/works/25159519

The Hexside Enchanter’s Ball is the quadrennial highlight of any learning witch’s life.

Amity hadn’t been, not yet, no one at Hexside had, but her parents insisted it would be the best night of her young life.

The ball, fun fact, had been where her parents had met for the first time. Both being adept spell-casters with a twin knack for illusions, it was a wonder to half the student body that they hadn’t met stumbled upon each other sooner.

But her father, having been the night’s first victim of what was known as the Lovers’ Curse, had slipped off to the hall to sulk alone only to find her mother in a similar state soon after. The rest, as they say, is history.

(“The curse may be meant to break hearts,” her mother says one day, staring lovingly at her ring. “But I think it mended mine.”)

According to Luz, who, since joining Hexside’s ranks, had taken to skipping up beside her in the halls between classes, human schools held their own Enchanters balls- called dances , there- once, sometimes twice a semester. How they don’t lose their charm happening so often, Amity isn’t sure. A ball is a special night, meant for moments like her parents’, happening every few months, to her, they lose all meaning.

(“Then there’s this one called the Sadie Hawkins Dance, where the girls ask the guys out. I was never really sure where that left me, though…” Luz tells her one day as they walk to class. She’s not quite sure what a Sadie Hawkins is, but Luz seems into it so she tries to like it too.)

Fundamentally though, human dances and witches’ balls sound the same: fine clothes, plentiful food, corny decorations, endless dancing. Amity has to admit, without the added risk of being cursed hanging over your shoulder, human dances almost sound like more fun.

Almost.

So, a few days later, when Luz asks her to go as her date, Amity is a little less than surprised. Their relationship as it stands is rocky at times, but overall hardening into something stable, familiar.

They’ve kissed, once, in the heat of the moment after a particularly grueling rescue from the Warden’s prison on the edge of town. Neither of them had mentioned the moment and since then, Amity was nearly tempted to believe Luz had forgotten all about it.

That is, until a bundle of flowers fall out of her locker as she’s leaving.

The flowers, yellow human world orchids if she isn’t mistaken (she isn’t), are tied together using a loose ribbon with a small card attached. In Luz’s careful handwriting she reads:

Turn around? <3

When she does so, Luz is already waiting, having somehow snuck up behind her. She’s rocking on her heels, wearing a crooked grin with her fingers tangled together in front of her.

“I know the whole ‘being seen in public with me’ bit isn’t really your thing and that our relationship is kind of-” Luz makes a scattered up and down gesture with her hand that actually sums them up rather well, “but do you want to go? With me? To the dance, I mean.”

The entire speech comes out in a single, rushed breath that leaves Luz looking as if she had just run a mile. With every syllable, her eyes had gotten wider, until, by the end, there are two wide saucers where her eyes should be.

“Luz, I-”

Don’t trust her, she thinks. Luz had helped the twins that night in the library, this was all just another trick. But she stopped them, too. Not to mention helped her stop Otabin the Bookmaker from sealing them both inside his story with him forever. But the abomination trick- which she had apologized for.

Saying no would be so much easier, she thinks, then, unfortunately, remembers that she still has the fifth Azura book in her bag. Yet another thing Luz hadn't had to do.

Amity looks to Luz, to the flowers, back to Luz. Her heart stutters.

“I’d love to.”

The week leading up to the Enchanter’s Ball, Amity’s parents dart around in a flurry of excited preparation.

She and her siblings are swept up into the commotion until they’re tried every piece of formal wear in the Boiling Isles. Her mother drags Amity and Emira all across town until they eventually agree on something suitable, while their father takes Elric to get his suit fitted.

Overall, it’s a busy week filled with nothing she finds all that important, but goes along with for her parents’ sake. The dress she eventually settles on is a mix of purple and black that stretches to her knees- a bit simple for her family’s usual taste, but it’s comfortable, she likes it, and she thinks Luz will too, so it stays.

She isn’t sure what Luz will show up in. Considering she had jumped here from the human world with only her backpack, Amity isn’t sure where she’s planning to find clothes without any money, short of raiding Eda’s closet. With how secretive Luz had been about the whole night, Amity doubts she’ll know much of anything until they get there. But, knowing Luz, she had a feeling things will work out exactly as they’re meant to.

Well, that, or the entire evening will descend into chaos like they are prone to when Luz is around. She figures there’s a fifty-fifty shot.

“You know, break her heart and it’ll be the last thing you do.”

The morning before the ball, Willow chases her down on their way to school. It only takes her a moment to realize that they are stopped in the same clearing as the day Willow’s ‘abomination’ had stolen her spotlight in class...so she had tried to have Luz dissected. Good times.

The glare Willow wears as she plants herself in front of Amity is more threatening than she ever remembers her being in all the years they had known each other. She’s almost proud, Luz must be rubbing off on her.

Still indignation pokes at Amity and pushes her to snap back, “Or you’ll what? Poke me with one of your thorns?”

Willow crosses her arms in a way that’s so Willow, that it causes a twinge of regret to rise up in her chest. “I’m not the one you should be worried about, or did you forget that Luz lives with a demon king and the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles?”

Amity scoffs, “please, King? He’s harmless.”

“But Eda isn’t.”

She’s heard the stories from Lilith countless times. Eda was- and still is- a menace when she wants to be. She won’t admit it, not to Willow, but Eda is the last person she wants to get on the wrong side of.

“I won’t hurt her,” she promises, and means it.

“I know.”

That night, her parents think she is going alone and, for once, the twins don’t try to correct them. Her parents wouldn’t care that Amity is going with a girl, people don’t care about that nearly as much as they seem to in the human world- it was more the human aspect that concerned her. Humans weren’t common in their world and neither Amity nor the twins were exactly keen on explaining that she was kind-of-sort-of dating the first one to visit in over a decade.

Instead, when it came time, the three of them slipped out the front door and went their separate ways. Elric and Emira vanished as soon as the house was out of sight. They claimed that, with every adult worth worrying about being distracted, the opportunity in front of them was too good to waste.

She hadn’t asked for details.

When she arrives, Luz is nowhere in sight. Running late, most likely.

As her classmates begin to file into the building, she waits outside, pressed against the wall. The wind ruffles her skirt as she scans the crowd, but there’s no sign of Luz, not even as Gus and Willow head in, who seem to be searching as well.

Inside, the music drifts out to shake the walls of Hexside so hard she can feel the vibrations underfoot as she waits. Party of a lifetime, now she just needed to enjoy it.

Eventually, the crowd thins out and leaves Amity alone. If she heads in now, chances are that she will find Luz waiting, ready to bounce off the walls all evening and wondering what took her so long. With all the students flooding by, she had probably missed her heading in. Nothing to worry about.

Knowing this, Amity stays outside a moment longer, scanning the empty treeline, before she kicks off the wall and finally heads in.

Down the road, just out of sight, Luz swallows around the lump in her throat, then pushes ahead.

The Lovers’ Curse, otherwise known as “Amantes Maledic,” has been with the Hexside Enchanter’s Ball for as long as time can tell.

First cast against Delaney Wail and her date, Frederick Morrister, by an angry ex-lover at Hexside’s first ever Enchanter’s Ball, the two were doomed to be bitterly torn apart by night’s end. However, inexperienced but powerful, the spell’s caster not only cursed Wail and her date, but the entire ball.

On that fateful night, every couple in attendance is said to have turned on one another in the span of an hour and, in the process, nearly tore the school apart from the inside out. Though the spell has since lost its potency, legend says that each year, the curse will still take a victim.

-Pg. 198 of “A Cohesive History of the Enchanter’s Ball”

Luz still hadn’t shown.

Amity has checked every place she can think of, then checked them again. But the dance floor is no less wild than she would expect one filled with wild, sugar-crazed witches to be, the buffet is still in stock, meaning Luz, with King most likely sneaking in behind her, hadn’t yet been raided, and Gus and Willow only look at her pitifully when she asks if they knew what was going on. She’s not here.

Luz isn’t here, but Amity is, alone.

There’s no one else around she can sit with, either. Boscha and her other friends aren’t exactly her biggest fans at the moment and sitting with Willow and Gus by herself is asking for an awkward time. If Elric and Emira were here, she could hide with them, but they’re off doing who knows where doing who knows what and Amity isn’t sure she wants to get involved in another one of their schemes anyway.

After a final loop around the room, Amity all but throws her hands up, and Willow was worried about her being the issue.

Stupid Luz, stupid dance, stupid- what were you thinking?

Deep down, she should have known this was going to go downhill. Every second with Luz was another way to crash and burn, the girl was a walking disaster magnet. For all Amity knew, she was off helping the twins on their latest plot- or this was their latest plot. But, she wouldn’t, this time wasn’t like the library, she hadn’t known.

With no one around to see, Amity kicks the wall, only to hop back, hissing, as her toe connects with solid stone.

“Come on,” she cries as she flies off balance.

Her arms start to flail as she tumbles backward, only to suddenly stop just as she expects her head to meet stone when arms wrap around her middle and pull her back up.

Better than bleeding out in an abandoned hallway, she supposes.

As soon as she’s back on her feet, Amity spins around, a thank you on her lips, when-

“Luz?”

Her outfit is a patchwork mishmash of tuxedo, bright pink skirts, and heavy leather boots, in a way that’s handsome and beautiful all at once. She’s thoroughly, one hundred percent Luz. In short?

She looks absolutely stunning.

“Amity!” The sudden sheepish expression she wears doesn’t match the rest of her at all, it’s unnerving.

“Where have you been?” She demands.

“I-”

“Did you realize I’ve been waiting all night and you couldn’t be bothered to show? Did Eda need you for some crazy spell? Is that what’s important to you?”

Hurt flashes across Luz’s face and, for a split second she thinks good, then remembers what Willow said and knows she has to prove her wrong, if only for Luz’s sake.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says. “That wasn’t fair, whatever happened probably wasn’t your fault. You just really worried me.”

“No,” Luz says, arms wrapped tightly around her torso. “I should have told you sooner. About tonight. I got scared, I almost didn’t come.”

Oh, oh .

She really should have seen that one coming. Of course Amity couldn’t keep this, she had never had it to begin with.

“You didn’t want to be here, not with me.” She backs up, ignores the way her voice breaks. “Gus and Willow are inside, you should go find them.”

She pushes past Luz to find the exit, a bathroom, somewhere that isn’t here. She knew it, knew it.

“I was scared of the curse,” Luz shouts behind her.

At that, Amity pauses, frowns. Turns around again.

“The what?”

“The curse ,” she repeats. “The Lovers’ Curse, the one everyone keeps talking about.”

Amity blinks and presses one hand to her temple.

“You...Thought we were going to be cursed?”

Face red, Luz nods.

A part of Amity wants to laugh, another part wants to kiss Luz on the spot and never let her go, while a third, much smaller part still wants to walk away while she has the chance.

Thankfully, logic steps in and tells her to take Luz by the shoulders.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

She shrugs, “look, I still don’t get all the ins and outs of the Boiling Isles. I was scared it might all be some dumb joke or just another thing I didn’t understand. I wanted you to think I knew what I was doing for once.”

There’s a good chance Amity is blushing, hard, right now. In the darkness of the hall, she hopes Luz can’t tell.

“I don’t think anyone has ever cared that much before,” her hands slide down to intertwine with Luz’s. She leans close and kisses her on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Never,” she promises. “And if it helps, I heard Ervin Fowler and his date stormed out about an hour ago.”

“Those two? They seemed so solid…”

“It’s a curse, what did you expect? If it helps, they’ll both bounce back by tomorrow. Their relationship may be a mess, but the physical effects of the curse don’t last long outside Hexside.”

“So, they’ll be okay?”

“As okay as you can be after a bad break-up.”

They’re both less tense, now, she can feel it in the way Luz’s shoulders drop, not wound up, like she was waiting for the final blow. An easy grin has taken over her face, as well, the one that, on a good day, would mean she was up to something.

“Hey,” Amity says after a moment. “Do you wanna dance?”

“More than anything.”

As they slip into the crowd, the music quickly rises up around them, filling up the space between them until there’s nothing left but her, Luz, and the beat.

As the world slips away, Amity leans in and holds on tight.

#the owl house #lumity #based off the season 1b promo #listen I know they're calling it Grom #but I literally started writing this right after I saw the photo #so I'm sticking with my name #oops #lydsfics #my writing

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kyu-gsoo · 4 years

Text

We’ll keep this culture alive

For Kataang Week 2020.

Day 5: Heritage/Responsibilities

Words: 2,336 words

Summary: Aang restores one aspect of culture lost to the hundred year war.

Author’s note: I went away for a few days so I’m behind on Kataang week D: I know there’s no obligation to do all prompts (much less do each on the day of like I’ve been doing).. But I want to. I’ll probably try to catch up later. Anyways I know it’s technically Day 6, but here’s my Day 5 fic. Set in The Headband episode! Mostly Aang-centric but still with some good ole Kataang at the end. Again I made it a lil angsty and tbh I don’t even know if it fits the prompt

Aang watches as the flames engulf his staff, leaving nothing but ashes in their wake. He thinks about the saddle the sandbenders had thrown out when they traded Appa, about the map he packed when he ran away that fateful day; scribbled with all the places he planned to visit, about the clothes he was wearing when Azula struck him; now left tattered and torn. The anguish that he feels watching the last physical item that tied him to his old life is red hot and all-consuming, just like the flames before him.

“That’s okay,” He’d said, even when it was not. “It would give away my identity.” He tried not to think about how he was the only piece of the Air Nomads and their culture left in existence. A living relic. Aang’s identity as an airbender was the only thing he had yet to sacrifice, and he wasn’t planning on doing so anytime soon.

Which is why, when he puts on the headband for the first time, it hurts him more than he can put into words. He realizes as he closes the cloth around his forehead that there isn’t anywhere he can check for his reflection, and is grateful for the small mercy. He can’t even begin to imagine what he would look like without his tattoos.

This war, he thinks to himself. It just keeps taking and taking and taking. Aang is sure by now, as he hides his tattoos, that he no longer has any more left to give.

Still, he shakes the thoughts away and plasters on his signature lopsided smile. “Tada! Normal kid.”

He watches Toph and Sokka squabble over the earthbender’s new Fire Nation style shoes. In this instance, as she and Sokka bicker about, Aang finds that from an outsider’s perspective, they really do look like nothing but normal kids. Just a bunch of friends hanging out close to the shoreline. The minor moments of normalcy they are afforded are few and far in between, so Aang lets himself laugh wholeheartedly because he doesn’t know when he will next find this type of joy.

Katara’s voice breaks him out of his laughter. “How do I look?” She stands from head to toe in red, a nice contrast to her dark skin.

Beautiful is his first thought, because she is. The thought that follows is, “Uhh, your mom’s necklace.”

The waterbender immediately reaches up to touch the pendant at her neck. “Oh,” is all she says at first, obviously reluctant. Aang watches her unclasp and remove it anyway. “Oh yeah. I guess it’s pretty obviously Water Tribe, isn’t it?” Katara’s fist closes around the small choker, concealing the last of her true identity. Here and now, she follows the rest of them and gives into the guise of a Fire Nation citizen.

The disappointment her face mars is a painful reminder that they are all sacrificing bits of themselves for this war. That, consequently, they can all find solace in one another. Aang wonders briefly if that is a blessing or a curse.

Again he pushes this thought away. Instead, he follows his companions as they begin their trek into town.

It’s a slow day in town. Granted, he couldn’t really think much of it, since he and Momo somehow got roped into attending a local elementary school. The first day isn’t so bad, though Aang doesn’t remember this many customs present all those times he visited Kuzon. It takes him one too many times to get the bow right that he worries he’ll blow his cover soon. He has one of his new classmates to thank for hinting at him the proper way. Later, he learns that her name is On Ji.

Of course, when he returns to their hideout, he gets an earful from Sokka for wandering off. That doesn’t stop him from attending the next day.

But the second day is what really tests his limits.

Of all the ways to start the day, Aang never imagined staring at a portrait of the former Fire Lord Sozin being one of them. He follows the suit of the other students and stands rigidly, mouthing incorrectly to all the words of an oath he knows nothing about. The teacher catches on and is quick to punish him and his classmates with a pop quiz. This puzzles Aang even more. As if having to pledge allegiance to the very man who started the war wasn’t weird enough, the teacher adds insults to injury by starting off their quiz with:

“What year did Firelord Sozin battle the Air Nation army?”

He raises his hand almost immediately. The teacher, clearly irritated, indulges him anyway. “Is that a trick question? The Air Nomads didn’t have a formal military. Sozin defeated them by ambush.” He tries not to make it sound so defensive, instead feigning confusion. Almost all of his peers stare dumbfounded at him, but he waits for the teacher’s response anyway. These are his people they were talking about. How could they fabricate history books so blatantly? Was wiping them off the face of the earth not cruel enough?

“Well, I don’t know how you could possibly know more than our national history book, unless you were there a hundred years ago.” She clips and raises an eyebrow, as if challenging him to defy her.

The young airbender’s nervous laughter rings throughout the classroom. He wants so badly to question her further, to probe how exactly an Air Nomad militia came about, when it was within their ways to avoid violence at all costs. They were carefree, spontaneous, and had a spiritual weightlessness to them. But these words die on his tongue, all for the sake of keeping his identity secret. It pains him that he has no choice but to accept these lies knowing they are untrue. Though he owes it to his people to set things straight, he sits down and lets the culture of the Air Nomads once again get lost in translation.

It is during Music Class that he finally snaps.

He was just dancing. But the teacher had called it a “nervous disorder.”

“Dancing is not conducive to a proper learning environment.” The instructor asserts. He lets Aang march in place instead. They carry on, and Aang marches in his seat like he was given permission to, but somehow he can’t find it in himself to keep blowing the tsungi horn.

Though he doesn’t agree with it, he could understand the intention behind the Air Nomad genocide. It was to obliterate all obstacles that prevented the Fire Nation attack and reign. But what then, was the point of their overrule if they destroyed all the cultures of the Fire Nation too? What kind of empire did Sozin plan to lead if all of his people were fed lies and lived off of obedience? Aang couldn’t understand.

What he could understand was that another culture was dying. And he couldn’t just sit back and watch.

He came to the conclusion as he, Sokka and Katara returned to their little cave. “I’m going to throw them a secret dance party.”

“Go to your room,” is the first thing Sokka can come up with. He gets a laugh in return. It’s obvious the airbender isn’t going to heed his warnings, but Sokka tries anyway. “Aang, are you really going to risk being found out for a dumb dance party?”

Except Aang’s no longer laughing. His gray eyes have steeled over when he replies. “It may be just dancing to you, Sokka. But it’s a tradition with historical importance to me. It’s a cultural heritage that I can’t just let die out here. Not again, when I can help prevent it.”

Those words alone are what get all three of them onboard with his idea. Though the party was found out in the end, Aang regards it as a complete success.

It starts off a bit awkward, no doubt, the majority of them timid. Aang can’t even blame them when he knows they’ve never witnessed this kind of dancing, maybe even any kind of dancing, in their entire lives. Luckily On Ji and a few others quickly warm up to the occasion, which then makes it easier for even more of Aang’s peers to join as well. Aang himself has the time of his life having the chance to do a little waterbending dancing with Katara. He is surprised that she trusts him to lead her wholeheartedly. For a moment all the other kids just stare as they make their way along the makeshift dance floor. Both Aang’s cheeks and ears blush as he thinks about their intimate little moment. Even so, the occasion itself is what makes him the happiest. And if he were honest with himself, it’s the happiest he’s been since he woke up after being struck by Azula. He isn’t sure why that is.

Aang looks down at the clouds as they fly past, the cave having been out of their peripheral view for sometime now. He thinks about why that event made him so happy, and comes up blank.

Later, when they’ve landed and finished setting up camp, Aang lay on the ground staring up at the stars. He sprawls his arms and legs out, just feeling the earth beneath him. It brings him an unexplainable comfort that the earth still crumbles in his palms the same way it did before he set out into that storm, all those years ago.

“Can’t sleep?” Katara whispers. She’s lying on her side with a palm to her cheek, her hair loose of all its ties. Behind her, Toph and Sokka lay sound asleep.

It’s a simple question, but somehow it compels Aang to reveal all of his innermost thoughts. They spill over one by one before he can put a stop to them.

“I just.. These past two days really opened my eyes. It made me realize that the war didn’t just take away from all the other nations, but from the Fire Nation too.” He turns to her, watching as the shadows of the campfire catch on her face, then turns back to the sky. “Seeing all of those kids dance with me tonight. I helped them relearn one aspect of their culture that the war wiped out. It just feels so.. Fulfilling. To know that I restored something. Even if it wasn’t something for my people. It gives me this new surge of hope, Katara, the fact that I managed to restore something lost to the war.” He turns to Katara. There she lies, just an arm away from him. “And you helped me.”

“I'm glad that you got to experience that, Aang. I think it healed a part of you that you didn’t know was wounded.” He sees the stars reflect in her eyes as she continues to speak, and hangs onto every syllable. “That hope you feel right now? That’s how I felt the day Sokka and I found you in the iceberg.” She pauses before she says her next words. “And I feel it grow exponentially every time you take on your role as the Avatar.”

She tucks her hair behind her ears and continues. “I hope you understand now that you’re capable, Aang, of ending the war and restoring balance. You were always capable. But now more than ever.”

All the words in the universe evade him. He can’t even begin to explain all the emotions filled in the space of his chest. All these intense feelings he never even knew he was capable of feeling before tonight. One word and they’ll all come spilling out. His vision blurs as he tries to make sense of them all, but Katara remains smiling at him.

Aang closes his eyes and lies on his back again, swallowing in his tears and taking a moment to gather himself. He understands now, why her words bring so much comfort yet evoke the same amount of pain, too. Because saving it all means risking it all. And Aang, one way or another, is risking the Air Nomads by fighting this war. He'd never spoken of this worry for fear that voicing it out would bring it closer to coming true. It was eating away at him the same way it was hurting him. But she’s just given him the realization that they have a chance. A fighting chance.

It takes all of him to gather enough courage to ask the next question.

“Katara?” He questions with as steady a voice he can manage.

“Yeah?”

Aang holds his breath. When he speaks, the words come out garbled and rushed. “When the war is over, do you think there’s a chance to revive the Air Nomads and their culture?”

My people and my culture. Do we have a chance?

She answers him in a heartbeat. “With you around, definitely.”

Somehow the weight of those two simple words are all it takes to break the dam. His tears betray him and he lets them, neither ashamed or uneasy. We have a chance, his mind chants over and over. One day, he will watch others inherit the culture of him and his people, not die out. He lets the weight of the unsettlement float away and cries, because this is the last time he’ll ever let it consume him the way it did.

He thinks about the remains of the Southern Air Temple, of the Fire Nation’s buried cultures, of the crisp smoke emanating from the buildings of Omashu the last time he’d seen them, of how he’d flown out Katara with him and consequently robbed the Southern Water Tribe of their last waterbender. They all have a chance. Aang will give them that chance.

He feels a hand squeeze his shoulder and turns. Katara lies beside him, still smiling.

Neither of them break the silence after that.

#kataang week #kataang week 2020 #kataang tag #sorry i totally left out the legendary kataang dance because i knew i couldnt do it justice #anyways this also means that sozin and ozai’s plan was to rid the earth of ALL four cultures even their own #they wanted to train their people like cow so they would never be questioned #god is it possible to despise a fictional character with this intensity #aang x katara #atla #atla fanfic #fairy writes #tumblrfic #wordvomit

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