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#well i find it less awkward to express in my tags rather in the actual post it self since im one hell of an awkward piece of shit hihi

rainba · 7 months

Text

Flickering Warmth

(TWs)/Tags: gender neutral reader, dubcon, slight noncon, master/servant

--------------------------

Everything about him is so warm.

The touch of his hands, the smile on his lips, the flame in his eyes.

Yet his calloused hands are so rough and cold on your skin, the contact unwelcomed.

The tears stinging his vulnerable crimson eyes are taking out his flames, leaving him vulnerable and squirming beneath the pressure of being in your presence. He wants to say something, anything at all, but everything just feels like it’s too much to bear. The dimly lit candle that’s flickering and dancing beside the two of you is also warm. But it’s not warm enough.

“Master Diluc…” Your meek voice calls out his name, but it’s as if he’s in another world. You say his name again, over and over, until it eventually reaches a volume high enough to catch his attention. “Master Diluc!” You yell, and he jumps out of his darkened trance. He looks down at you, confused, until you point at his hand on your forearm. He’s holding it so tightly that it leaves behind a bruise.

“...Oh,” he whispers. “My apologies.” Diluc slowly removes his hand from your body, but you could swear you still feel the ghost of it lingering on your skin. You cough awkwardly. “Is… Is there anything else you need from me, Master?” You take a few steps and you bow a little, being courteous to the man who pays your bills. Being courteous to the man who practically holds your life in his hands.

Diluc parts his lips to speak, but no words come out. His brows are stitched together and his expression is nothing less than torn, utterly distressed. Part of you wants to stay and comfort him, but the smarter part of you wants to run away from this situation and pretend it never happened.

The light of the candle illuminates his beautiful face, and yours as well. It’s storming outside. The rain and thunder is so loud as the two of you stand beside a window partially covered by crimson curtains. Diluc hums lowly as he musters up a reply. “Yes, actually…” He gulps. “I hate to bother you any more than I already have, but would you mind fetching me some warm tea? I need it to calm my nerves.” He lets out a soft sigh of relief when you nod and practically bolt out of the door, excited to escape this awkward situation.

When he no longer sees you, he grits his teeth and runs his fingers through his messy hair. “Fuck,” he hisses underneath his breath. “I can’t believe I just did that.” His face turns a little red as he curses at himself. He never, ever wanted you to see him in such a desperate state. He wanted so badly to take things slow with you, to court you like the gentleman that he is… Or rather, like the gentleman he wishes to be.

But he sometimes just can’t stand it. He can’t stand waiting for you to fall into the cage that he decorated so nicely for you. Sometimes he just wants to take you and claim you so badly that his heart begins to throb and his head begins to ache. This act is getting so tiring… But he loves you so much that he tries his best to keep his inner demons under control. His sinful demons that crave to own you entirely.

Diluc glances at the window and sees his own reflection in the glass. It’s… It makes him sick. He’s supposed to be better than this. When you get back into the room, he’ll apologize to you, and he’ll tell you to forget everything that happened tonight. His thoughts had just gotten way too out of control tonight, and he’ll never let it happen again, that’s all.

However, that’s not how things go. When you walk back into the room, he finds his thoughts going haywire again. That servant uniform you’re wearing, the innocent look in your eyes, his family’s emblem on your chest. Seeing all of it just drives him insane, and he’s paralyzed by his thoughts.

“Here, Master Diluc.” He loves it when you call him that. “I made you your favorite tea.” As you set it down, Diluc’s eyes don't leave your body. His skin feels like it’s on fire. His throat is dry. You notice how intense his gaze is- it sends shivers down your spine. It makes you feel like you’re his prey.

Diluc’s hand trembles slightly as he reaches for the cup of tea. He figures he should dismiss you from the room before he embarrasses himself any further. He knows he should dismiss you before he does something that he knows he’ll regret. But he can’t stand the thought of you being away from him.

When you turn around and attempt to leave without his orders, he grabs your forearm once again, and he yanks you close to him. “Master!?” You yelp loudly, your face getting quickly buried into his chest. Diluc’s breathing is unbearably heavy, and his heartbeat is deafeningly loud. He’s so warm.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. “I can’t take it anymore.” Before you can even reply, he has you pinned against the wall with his body pressed firmly against yours. He rests his hips between your legs and keeps you lifted up in the air this way, then he desperately kisses at your neck. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” He says, not truly expecting an answer. You gasp and moan as he nips at your most sensitive areas. “How long I’ve wanted to make you mine…” His strong hands grab your hips and lift you up a little further, giving him better access to your collarbone. He begins to undo the top of your uniform.

“Diluc, wait!” You shift within his grasp, accidentally rubbing up against his sensitive lower half, drawing a guttural moan from him. You hate it, but at the same time, it’s far too intoxicating. “Y-you’re my employer, I’m not a noble, I… We can’t…” You try to find the right words, but it’s so hard when he’s touching you in all the right places.

“I don’t care about all of that.” He growls a little before moving your legs and wrapping them around his waist, locking your bodies together.

It’s all so hot, so, so hot.

It’s too much.

You gently press against his chest to push him away as he traces his fingers up and down your thigh, and you plead with him more to stop. Yes, on some level you do want this, but on the other hand, you feel that it’s wrong. You want to take things slow, you want to gain the approval of others, you just want things to feel perfect and romantic. Right now, you feel like you’ll simply melt away if things keep escalating.

You push him just a little harder and it pushes him out of his trance. His eyes grow impossibly wide as guilt hits him like a speeding train. “Oh. Oh god.”

He realizes he lost control.

He races to fix your uniform and get you back on your feet, apologizing for his unruly misconduct.

“It’s fine, really, I promise it is, you don’t have-” You try to speak, but he cuts you off.

“I promise this will never happen again. Truly, I apologize for my behavior.”

He keeps apologizing over and over until you’re finally out of the room, leaving you speechless.

It’s only then when he heaves a sigh of relief. If you hadn’t kept pushing him away, who knows what he would’ve done to you. He would’ve marked you, claimed you, bent you over his desk, he… He…

Diluc can’t help but feel like he’s losing his mind when he thinks of you. He’ll just pleasure himself to the thought of you like he usually does… Until the day where he can truly have you. His hand will just have to be enough. With the feeling of your body against his in his memory, he’ll…

…

In the end, it’s not a matter of ‘if’ he’ll have you.

Just a matter of when.

#yandere diluc #yandere genshin impact #dubcon #tw noncon

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rayewritesfantasy · 11 months

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15 Questions

Once again, thank you @thewriteflame

This is the Tynan version of the 15 questions.

Tynan is the second protagonist of my fantasy romance Sea of Stars. A lot tricker than Juliet, but I relish the chance to get inside his head.

Juliet version here:

Without further preamble, here we go.

...

Tynan takes me aback. In the interviews he has appeared in alongside his wife, he was something of an ominous shadow, lurking at her back. As though he dared somebody to be foolish enough to try and offend her.

In person however, I have to keep myself from openly gawking at him. Tall and broad shouldered with a shock of pitch black hair that seems to ripple with his stride where it flows around his shoulders. His skin is ivory pale and smooth as milk. But what pins me in my seat are his eyes. Bright, shocking, blue and focused on me as though I'm being measured up like a side of meat. For all his un-natural beauty, all I really want to do is run away and hide from him.

"Good afternoon." He greets me, Scottish accent so controlled that I can hardly hear it at all.

"Good afternoon. I have a feeling you would prefer to get this over with quickly. May I call you Tynan?"

His very white teeth flash and I can't help but picture them buried in the flesh of something innocent.

I was warned that he wasn't human, nor does he pass for one with much in the way of commitment. But I was not expecting the sheer heart pounding terror he'd bring up into my throat.

"Aye. Ask yer wee questions, an' I'll consider us square. Like we never crossed paths, acceptable?"

I nod, "You have a deal."

He regards me as he lounges back against the chair, "Well then, let's begin, shall we?"

I clear my throat and pick up my pen.

Are you named after someone?

He rolls his shoulders in a great shrug, "Tynan means "Dark" in Irish. I suppose my Juliet chose it because of my hair. Next question."

I clear my throat.

When was the last time you cried?

He regards me with an expression that makes me shrink backwards, "Bit rude to ask that, ken? Next question."

I nod, awkward.

"Um, lets see..."

Do you have kids?

He considers it, "No. My kind aren't parental. Never cared for bairns." His gaze softens, "Juliet has a cute wee neice though. I like her well enough."

I have a feeling he's a little more fond than he would ever let on, but I have zero urge to pry any deeper.

Do you use sarcasm?

He smiles, one of those unnerving ones that makes me flinch a little.

"I find sarcasm fascinating. How to lie, without actually lying, just by using a tone of voice. Would you like to see me use it?"

I nod, unsure why I do. I don't want to see him use sarcasm. I don't want to spend more time than I have to in this closed room with him. Infact, I want to run for the door and call this whole thing off. But I feel like turning my back on him would be a fatal error on my part.

His tongue, which seems too long and also pointed, comes out to wet his lips as he leans forward and snares me with his gaze.

"I don't want to devour you, what makes you think I would?" he drawls, sarcasm so heavy it practically drools.

I swallow, doing my best to ignore the fear thick in my throat.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

He leans back, suddenly far less intensely focused on me. "How much fun I could have with them. I can always tell the runners from the fighters, and exactly how long they'll last against me."

That isn't a terrifying answer at all. Nope. He's totally not the poster child for serial killers everywhere.

I clear my throat and regard my notes rather than let him see how freaked out I am right now.

What's your eye colour?

He tilts his head, a totally different smile curving his lips upwards. This one I can see people being charmed by. He looks rather like a smug cat and it makes his eyes shine. "Cerulean. Sky blue. Tropical blue. Which ever lovely words ye want to use. Flattery could save your life, hen."

I blink, startled by the fact he just winked at me.

"I don't know that your lovely wife would want me to flatter you." I manage, wondering suddenly if I can get her back in here. Maybe she can tell him to stop frightening me.

He snorts, amused and waves a hand as though to bid me continue.

Scary movies or happy endings?

"Ah, I do love the human concept of a scary movie. The jump scares, the eerie noises and special effects. My wee Juliet clinging to me for protection. They're delightful things, horror movies. Can't recommend them enough."

I nod, "Any particular favourites that you'd like to recommend to readers?"

He taps his chin as though thinking, "Sinister. And also The Exorcist."

I scribble the names down. "Okay, so moving on."

Any special talents?

He blinks, "I like to knit. I have made jumpers. And a blanket for the baby. I'm also a good singer."

I nod. His speaking voice has a certain musical quality about it and I'm not surprised it translates well to singing.

Where were you born?

He looks away for a long moment, a sigh leaving his body.

The question must be boring enough to not earn an answer. I open my mouth to ask the next one, but he turns and gives me a small, almost sheepish smile.

"I was born in Lochan Na Dunaich. My mother still dwells there."

What are your hobbies?

"Ah, well I like to knit, like I said. I have also recently taken up whittling. I've gotten fairly decent at carving bird whistles. Outdoors, I love to swim. I've been learning how to draw wee birds as well. We have a bird table, so I can watch them through the window."

He seems somewhat more relaxed than when we began. It's a vast improvement from the initial glaring I was subjected to.

Have any pets?

He laughs. Right out loud. It startles me a little.

"No." is all he says at long last.

What sports do you play/have you played?

His smile is cunning, "I've played a few games of rubgy in my time. There's nothing like the rush of ploughing through a defensive line to score a try."

I make a note of that. "Sounds like fun."

How tall are you?

He makes a slightly confused face, "That's a strange question. I'm over 6 feet. I think it was maybe 6, 2?"

He shrugs it off, "It doesn't matter that much, does it?"

Favourite subject in school?

He chuckles, "I never went to school. But I like to do the wee word puzzles on Countdown in the evening. Making the words from the letters. And I'm good at the sums too."

Of course. Not a human, so he didn't attend a school. The question was a stupid one.

I make sure to record his answer dutifully though.

Dream job?

He grins, "Easy! I'd be a tour guide. Show all the tourists around and tell them the real history. Stuff the books never say."

I nod along as I write that down.

"Was that the last one, aye?"

He's leaning over to look at my writing as I finish my notes. He's far closer than I expected and his breath makes my hair flutter.

"Oh. Yes. Um... that's all." I manage, stepping back a bit.

He nods, a look of faint approval about him.

"They weren't too bad. Ye have many more folk today?"

I shake my head, "Only a fashion blogger who has been teaching people how to tailor clothes to fit better."

I don't know why I tell him. His eyes are just so very blue. Almost hypnotic from this close.

I can smell something earthy and damp. Like mud and green plants. I could just close my eyes take a good sniff and...

He laughs, quiet and dangerous. "You should be more careful, hen. Lowering your guard like that."

I recoil, shaking myself and reminding myself how stupid that was on my part.

He strolls away, pausing by the door to wriggle his fingers at me in a little wave.

"Cheerio, hen. Don't write anything too unflattering in your wee blog, aye?"

The door snaps shut behind him and I shudder.

Tynan Northwood is not to be trusted. No matter how pretty he looks.

Now this one was fun. Tynan is always interesting because he's always somewhere between charming and alarming. I think he just enjoys playing with people to watch them react. But then, that would be a kelpie for you.

As always, please share any thoughts or questions and I'll answer at some point.

Consider yourself tagged if you wanna join in the fun!

#oc #wip #tynan #kelpie #this was really fun #i love these two #juliet northwood #tag game

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luveline · 3 years

Text

you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina, to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."

#listened to boyfriend by big time rush while writing hahaha #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley #fred #fred weasly x reader #sad reader #reader insert #artist reader #fred weasley fluff #sorry for the big blocks of text tumblr has a 250 paragraph limit #why woukd they do that

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adonis-koo · 3 years

Text

Star Struck

| 2 |

↳ Summary: You’re a creature of habit, you plan everything from each hour to each day, so you can imagine the chaos which ensues after you discover a random guy leaking black goo in a ditch- who just so happens to be an alien.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: lowkey strangers to lovers, alien!jungkook, fluff, smut,

Word Count: 13k

Tags: tentacle sex im sorry, foreplay, oral (f) but not?? jungkook is technically a virgin by human standards ayyy, penetration, nipple play, over stimulation, double penetration, squirting, sub!jungkook, breath play, spit kink, jungkook can make his own lube??, anal im so sorry, praise kink, they become soul mates on accident oops,

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You didn’t see nor understand what JK was talking about at first, he just fumbled along between alleyways and roads and nobody, or what little people were on the streets didn’t look at you twice given your friend was as tall and broad as he was. Perks of being with a man you guessed. You still didn’t know what he was actually talking about except for the assumption that he had found his...friends…?

Eventually JK had dragged you through a lot of fields which had made you increasingly anxious, what if a kidnapper was out here? True you wouldn’t mind him using his talon like tentacles then but still...You also didn’t want to go to jail for assisting a homicide...Standing in an empty field, at the dead of night, was not what you intended on doing on a friday night.

JK seemed excited though as he bounced, grabbing a hold of you, he pressed his thumb to your forehead, your eyes fluttering shut on instinct from being so close to him suddenly but your brows pinched and an uncomfortable ache throbbed in your head before he released you. Rubbing your head you whined before you looked up again, only jumping with a screech at the...ship...in front of you...which was NOT there a moment ago.

“Home!” JK announced proudly as he grabbed your hand, tugging you along against your will, was this really...his ship? Oh god what if he was abducting you...You didn’t have time to think as he ushered you inside. It looked small on the outside admittedly but on the inside it was all glossy and clean, a sleek futuristic look dawning the interior.

Futuristic, he was an alien, you weren’t shocked at the assessment but still. This must’ve been the hanger or...living area… or...hell if you knew ship terms, it looked like the dining room but you didn’t expect two others to appear. All of them speaking in that same throaty tongue as he ran to them, embracing them with pure excitement on his face before he pointed to you, a look of pride on his face as he cleared his voice, “Y/n.” He spoke clearly as if introducing you.

You gave an awkward stiff wave before immediately dropping your arm, you were going to be extremely pissed if this was the LSD trip you thought you were having yesterday. You watched them all speak to one another before the one on the right nodded, saying something before gesturing JK off, who hurriedly ran off leaving you alone....with two aliens…

They both looked at you expectantly as you looked around, “Hi…” You offered an awkward smile, “You guys are terrifying…” Watching the one on the right grab a watering can to pour over a small...purple colored...tree? “You less so…” You turned to the other one, his eyes dark and piercing and wow…if you thought JK was hot you hadn’t even thought about what it would look like to seem someone attractive from his species, “You the most…” You wrapped your arms around yourself uncomfortably.

“He’s just assessing you, Taehyung’s like that with anyone associated with our Jungkookie.” You nearly wheezed at the sound of the one on the right speaking full...English…he offered a dimpled smile as if anticipating that reaction, “Apologies. I’m Namjoon, I’m sure you’re extremely confused and scared with everything going on.”

“...You could say that…” Your twisted somewhat painfully as you nodded rapidly, it was midnight and you were in a fucking spaceship, “Ummm, where did JK go…?”

Namjoon as he called himself suddenly snorted, shaking his head as he sighed, “Told him he should’ve paid more attention in the academy,” He rolled his eyes, “Jungkook,” He emphasised the name, “That’s his full Earth name. He just forgot it because he never pays attention,” He offered a weak smile, “And he’s in the memoir chamber rememorizing English so he can actually speak to you. It’s handy for us Orionian’s in case a situation like this happens and we don’t know archaic languages like English.”

You didn’t understand a word of what he just said, “I’m sorry...I think I’m too dumb to talk to you, honestly…” You felt extremely stupid but much to your surprise Namjoon laughed in delight, as if endured by your words.

“You humans are pretty humble huh,” He hummed as he continued watering the rest of his plants, “Anyways, our ship crashed here on Earth on our way to the andromeda galaxy and Jungkook ended up falling out, it was an...extremely rocky crash…” His smile still weak as if a vague memory entered his mind, “You have our utmost thanks for taking him in when he was injured and housing him.”

“It’s no problem, I would’ve done it for anyone.” You shifted a little, smiling a tiny bit despite still not feeling as comfortable as you wish you could be, it was just difficult to take in everything that was rapidly changing but your words still stood, you would have. Especially for...Jungkook...you lingered on the same, it sounded more fitting for the tall puppy like boy.

“So what are your intentions with Jungkook?” You jumped at how deep the second voice was...Taehyung if you remembered correctly and he only looked about as hot as he was intimidating, “Why did you take him in if you knew his identity.”

You flailed a little, intending to speak yet no words came out...you...you hadn’t really thought about it...at all honestly…”I...I ummm...well…”

“Are you working for them?” Taehyung stepped towards you, his expression becoming cold as you feebly took a step back looking towards the ground and unsure of how to answer or if you’d even given him a satisfying answer.

“Stop.” The new voice was raspy and low, not too terribly deep, but just enough to sound charming and rather rugged, Jungkook had appeared again only this time, immediately standing defensively in front of you, “She found me and even after finding out about me being an Orionian she didn’t report me to any Earth officials. I trust her, and you should too.”

He...he could speak...perfect English now...What!?

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed onto you, still distrustful but he laid off, “Right...and what is this about you bonding with her? I don’t think she’d be a good vessel.”

Jungkook’s jaw twitched and you could see the glow of the crescents on his hand burning in red, “Well I’m not asking for your permission to bond with her.” He spat back, his brows furrowed and his lip twitching in anger, suddenly he didn’t look so cute and puppy like anymore, “And it’s not like we’re getting off Earth anytime soon with the ship in this state, so it’s best if we just resume the plan as originally intended.”

“You think I’d choose a vessel as inferior as humans to have my offspring?” Taehyung’s face curled as if that was the biggest insult he had ever heard and yet you nearly choked at his words, vessel? Offspring? Uh what?

“Stop fighting,” Namjoon sighed and much to your surprise both of the two boys quieted down, Jungkook still stood in front of you, shuffling a little closer as Namjoon sighed, “Jungkook is right…” He made a noise of victory as Taehyung’s mouth twitched in anger, the marks along his body burning a deep red that was just a little scary to watch from afar, “With the technology at hand here on Earth and with Arbitrators searching for us, it’s in our best interest to make the most of what we have here. Besides, Earth is unsuspecting and was one of our forerunner’s best creations. It’s not too far off irony to let them be the vessel of our offspring.”

You stared up at Jungkook’s broad back in disbelief...this man was trying to impregnate you after a half a day of knowing you!? You weren’t sure plan B was prepared for this shit. Jungkook looked deeply satisfied at Taehyung’s reaction though before he turned to you, his expression soft and puppy-like as he smiled somewhat timidly before speaking as if he was a little giddy, “Hi…”

You could’ve said anything in this moment, in which Jungkook looked like he had been excitedly waiting for, and yet your choice of words had been admittedly poor.

“You’re gonna have to bag another bitch, I don’t do kids! I...I did NOT sign up for this!” You immediately backed away from him like he was poison and you didn’t know how these fuckers procreated and at this point you weren’t sure you wanted to learn!

Jungkook’s lips parted and he looked a little hurt before he quickly approached you again, “I don’t expect you to want to carry my children yet….”

“Yet!?” You shouted out making all three of them flinch a little, “I...I just let you stay at my place because you looked like you were dying in a ditch, and now! I’m in a spaceship, I can’t find the exit and you can suddenly speak English and you’re talking about kids!? This...nu-uh this is going way too fast. I...I really need to get home.”

Jungkook’s lips trembled a little as he reached out for you, “I’ll take you back! Or-! Or you could stay here until the morning, you shouldn’t be out alone, Earth has proved to be unsafe at night.” He tenderly held your forearms as your expression awkwardly twisted.

“Nothing worse could happen to me than what happened earlier tonight,” You shook your head rapidly as you sighed, “Just show me the exit, I’ll be fine, really. I’m happy for you! Seriously! I mean it looks like you’re reunited with your kin so there’s no reason for us to stay in contact and it’s been fun and out of this world- literally.” You laughed a little as you rambled, all three staring at you wide eyed, “But like, seriously I’ll keep this to myself and just hope it’s a really shitty drug trip like I originally thought it was…”

Jungkook sighed, lowering his head in defeat and his lips trembled a little in that sulky way it had been this morning as he went to the hatch where you both had come in, dialing a few buttons he waited a moment as he mumbled, “I just want to explain everything to you, I owe you that, at least…”

You said nothing waiting for the door to open as he dialed a few other buttons, and a few more, and again...and again…”Um,” He cleared his throat a little, “Namjoon…? The door?” He asked, his eyes doe like as he stared at his companion who sighed, squeezing between you both as he also dialed a few numbers into the glowing pad.

They both waited before Namjoon’s lips twisted into a sigh as if somehow expecting this to happen before he spoke, “Doors’ jammed...again…”

“This is fucking perfect.” Taehyung swore with a sigh, gritting his teeth as his eyes glared into you briefly, causing you to sheepishly back a little towards Jungkook, “I’m going back to my pod, I can’t deal with this.” He brooded before leaving as you looked between both aliens.

“...Jammed? The door? As in…?”

Jungkook’s lips twisted into a nervous smile, his marks glowing a light purple as he coughed, “Looks like we’ll have plenty of time to talk now…” Fuck! Why did things have to be this complicated, it could have been worse, but it was the same annoyance you had when Youtube played an unskippable ad, or when the lead in your pencil broke, a cookie falling onto the floor, that type of inconvenience.

Unshockingly Jungkook didn’t hold the same feeling as he spoke gently, “I can show you to my pod, it’ll be awhile before the door gets fixed…” He gave you an endearing apologetic smile.

“...As long as you aren’t gonna try to knock me up then sure.” You stared at him in disdain, making him weakly smile as he stepped back up the metal stairs and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed he was actually happy you were stuck with no other choice but to stay.

“Once you see her to your pod, a word please Jungkook...” Namjoon’s gaze was fixed on the door quizzically as if already trying to deduce what had made it jammed, he made no effort to look back at you both but you could tell it was probably important.

Jungkook only nodded eagerly and kept your hand in his as he lead you down the small the hallway, lights flickering and while you were anything but an engineer or mechanic, it wasn’t hard to tell they had crash landed, Jungkook ignored the mess against the walls as he typed in something before a door slid open revealing what you assumed was his room, the door slid shut behind you making you jump a little as you investigated the space. It was a minimalistic room, a few trinkets laid around and a messy bed was against the wall.

“You can sleep if you want...I know you were tired when I woke you up…” Jungkook’s marks glowed a soft pink as he bashfully looked at the ground, scratching his cheek as if he didn’t know what to say, “I um...I should go speak to my brother.”

Before you could even say anything Jungkook had already left looking somewhat sheepish, leaving you to curiously look around the room, it was spacious and in tones of deep brown and black, a few gadgets laying around on his nightstand as you tilted your head.

His pod...so basically...a bedroom. You assumed as much as you couldn’t really make a distinct difference between the two. True you could’ve slept like he had suggested, you were exhausted but too wired to even think about sleeping at the moment due to how bizarre of circumstances you were in. You were in an alien’s bedroom, on a space ship...

You had took your time browsing around the room, curiously holding a few trinkets in an attempt to figure out what they were, time passed slowly and for a while, you began to wonder if this was just a set up for them to butt probe you like Jimin had original thought they would. Not that you would mind as much as him but- besides the point, the longer you were left with your thoughts, the more that piled up.

When the door abruptly opened you nearly jumped out of your skin, hurriedly setting down what looked like a portable flame thrower before whirling around, Jungkook looked a little timid as he smiled, “I’m sorry that took so long...Um...” He closed the door gently before he gestured, “Please, go ahead and rest, from my understanding...um...humans have a standard sleep cycle yes?”

You didn’t fully understand what he was asking besides if you slept at night, rubbing your neck you did as he gestured, taking a seat on the bed before you jumped a little as it did not feel like a normal bed, “Uh I guess...? Why...why didn’t you just leave? You...didn’t have to wake me.” You mumbled, scooping your feet up as you laid down, shifting a little as you tried to get comfortable.

The bed felt almost like a marshmallow, something in between water and memory foam as the bed moved in slow, lapping waves as you attempted to get comfortable again with a pout tugging on your lips.

Jungkook watched you with endearment before he laid on the bed next to you, “You have to stop moving, coranium matches the pattern of your body to keep everything aligned and slowly adjusts to the movement of your body throughout your sleep duration.”

You rolled onto your side to look at him as you curled up a little, his marks still a light pink and his smile a little shy as he spoke, “To answer your question I mean...I feel like it should be obvious, I want to make my bond with you so it was natural I wanted to take you with me. I don’t know Earth well enough to confidently navigate it on my own without getting lost. I couldn’t risk leaving you and then being unable to find my way back. As well as I knew I’d be able to learn English fast in the memoir chamber, so then we’d be able to talk…” he smiled a bit timidly, his eyes fondly washing over your face as you awkwardly scooted a little away from him.

His eyes downcasting a little at the gesture as he frowned, and once again, even despite speaking english now it didn’t help his case in looking like a kicked puppy, “Well...am I supposed to know what a memoir chamber is? And….bonding and...literally everything you guys have said thus far?”

Jungkook rested his chin on his hands as he hummed, thinking about your words carefully before he spoke, “The memoir chamber is in most Orionian ships, it helps us adapt to the planet around us and depending on what region we’re in, the language. Our kind carry human DNA- or...moreso the other way around, so inherently we know all Earth languages as they descended from Orionian dialect, but…” He scratched his cheek, marks glowing pink once more, “I had a difficult time studying earth languages in the academy. It’s unrealistic for us to know them all, so the Memoir serves as a rebrief to put in the language back into our minds.”

God what were you in now? A shitty sy-fy film? You rolled onto your back as you said no more, thinking about his answer for a good long minute before you parted your lips only to shut them...Hold on one damn minute- did he just insinuate his kind created humans? Knowing all languages? What!? “I don’t even know how to unpack that sentence…” You muttered, staring up at the ceiling which twinkled in a galaxy of constellations and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed it was an open glass ceiling to outer space.

It aligned with nebula’s and stars, planets for what looked like miles and miles. You could stare at it for hours in awe, how did you not notice that until now.

“I could only imagine being human, it’s a lot to take in,” Jungkook offered a gentle smile, “As for bonding…” He was pink all over as he scratched his cheek again, eyes fluttering away from yours almost shyly, “It’s what it sounds like, when we Orionian’s find a person who we like and want to share our life with, we begin a bond, and it takes awhile for the bond to grow but once it’s finished, we’d complete it with a mating cycle, and then...We’re celestially bond together.” He mumbled a little shyly, his eyes looked like stars twinkling as he talked about it, almost in a dreamy fashion.

“....” You couldn’t even find the words to say anything before you muttered, “You’ve known me for a day…” True Jungkook was cute, but all of this stuff about bonding and space really made it difficult to grasp the concept in a way which wasn’t him basically proposing to you.

Jungkook looked as if he had been abruptly pulled from his little fantasy world as he frowned, propping himself on his forearm as he spoke, “Time is only a concept for Orionian’s, when we know who our bond is meant for, we just know. It doesn’t matter if I’ve known you a day or your whole life, my feelings won’t change. I want us to bond.” His voice lowered a little, his eyes doe-like and filled with a sugary sweetness as he closed the gap between you both.

You were speechless. Many times in your life you had felt this way, but genuinely, you had no words. An alien just professed his love to you within twenty four hours of knowing him all because...what…? You fed him twice? Let him sleep in your bed once? What had you possibly done for him to think you could be his...his wife!?

“I’m not getting married, I- I mean I’m flattered! I am.” You sat up, once again, pulling away from him as he mirrored you, his lips jutting into an almost frustrated pout, “But like...I just turned twenty one this year....I’m hardly a person let alone wife material.”

“Bonding is hardly even close to the equivalent of human marriage,” Jungkook wrinkled his nose, almost a little endeared, he knew little of human marriage from the media he had watched when you weren’t present, and while humans had similar ideas of romance, it was hardly comparable, he spoke gently, “It’s far more special and permanent. Being bonded is…” He closed his eyes, a half dimpled smile on his lips as he hummed, “It’s like feeling like the universe has completely aligned on your behalf, and that the planets and stardust gifted you a celestial mate who would never turn their back on you, who would always dry your tears and heal you when you’re hurt. The bond extends past this lifetime and into the next and so forth.”

“...You lost me at ‘more’ permanent…” For a woman with a whole baggage load of commitment issues Jungkook was really not selling this idea to you well, “Sorry but I think you got the wrong girl.” You could appreciate the bizarreness of this situation and admittedly you felt like you’d always have a superior ‘main character’ moment story to one up somebody with but this whole business about being stuck with someone for multiple lifetimes and having alien babies was really not something you could follow up with.

Jungkook looked severely hurt which made you do a double take, not quite anticipating such a pitiful reaction as his lips quivering and his eyes even looking somewhat glassy as he spoke, “O-oh...I see…”

wow way to make you feel like an asshole. He had shuffled a little curling up against himself as if trying to make himself appear small as he looked away from you. Sighing you ran a hand through your hair, well fuck, what did you have to lose at this point in your life?

“...Jesus christ, okay...what...what does...you know…” you coughed a little, rubbing your neck as Jungkook’s doe eyes looked at you timidly before darting away when you met his gaze, “What does this bonding shit entail anyway?”

Jungkook was incredibly attractive, there was no denying it and the worst that could happen would be things didn’t work and you just went back to normal non-tentacle men. Jungkook perked a little at your question, still seeming a bit reserved as he mumbled, “Well...bonding is a long process...it’s not something out of human fiction that just immediately happens. When a bond is first created it’s incredibly delicate, you have to be careful and make sure both partners dedicate time to strengthening the bond.”

Laying your head against your arms that were folded in front of you while listening intently you hummed, “And let’s say hypothetically, could the bond be broken?”

Jungkook’s expression crumpled a little as he mumbled, “It can be severed, but the more strengthened the bond is, the more painful it’ll be for both partners. But yes, it is possible. I should also mention a bond is only possible unless both partners are in agreement and want it just as much as the other.”

You hummed, thinking about his words, so technically it wasn’t really possible given both of you had different alignments right now, “Alright well, here on Earth we call it dating, which is a lot less intensive than that, so if you want me to do that then you’re gonna have to go by human standards first.” It was reasonable enough and a happy compromise.

You wouldn’t deny you felt a pull towards Jungkook, ever since he had arrived yesterday morning your life had been anything but normal and yet you embraced every twist and turn so far and...there was admittedly a secret giddy part of you that revelled in old childhood nostalgia that someone had actually fallen from the sky and would now show you a world of many possibilities outside of earth.

The only thing holding you back was the logic and reason that your family held and pushed onto you at a young age, long gone were the days of staring up at the stars in hopes of seeing something supernatural and daydreaming during recess about being whisked off earth. You didn’t know how to connect with that childlike side of yourself anymore, it had been so long since you bothered with those thoughts that now that the opportunity was presented to you, you genuinely didn’t know how to react.

Jungkook had immediately perked up his brows raised and immediate interest in his expression, “I’ll do it! If it means winning your affection,” his smile was a little toothy and innocent as he spoke, “How do humans date? What do they do?” He tilted his head in curiosity while waiting excitedly for your reply.

You couldn’t help but smile a little at how enthusiastic he was, “Well…” you drew a breath in thought, “It’s not too different then it is from now, we’ll go out to eat together, get to know each other, stuff like that.”

Jungkook deflated a little, confusion in his eyes as he frowned, “But that’s stuff we do now...as...friends…” his frown furthered on his lips, “What sets friends and dating apart if we do the same thing…?”

You rubbed your neck, beginning to get a little flustered at his question as you shifted a little, mumbling, “Well the difference is friends are strictly platonic, dating someone means you’re interested in them romantically and...you know...we hold hands...or cuddle or...I don’t know romantic shit…Stuff friends don’t do.”

When did Jungkook get closer to you? His head tilted in curiosity as he spoke, “...And? Is that it? I’m sorry,” he apologized a bit bashfully, looking rather pink, “I’m trying to discern possible differences in boundaries set between a regular human relationship compared to Orionian’s…I don’t want to do anything that might make you...uncomfortable…”

You stared at him for a good moment, as if trying to discern whatever he was trying to say without actually saying it, “Well...I’m not sure how different it can be…” Jungkook said nothing, fidgeting a little as you looked at him for a long moment, “...I’d tell you if you made me uncomfortable.” Was this...going where you thought it was going?

Jungkook shuffled a little closer, his nose nearly brushing yours and his lips that looked so soft jutted into a slight pout, his eyes could hardly meet yours as he timidly asked, “...How...intimate are humans in their relationships?”

Your face felt like it was on fire though as you muttered with raised brows, “Uh pretty hands on...if you wanna fuck me you can just ask.” You looked up at him, feeling a bit bold given he was a little more on the shy side, you could tell just him asking that had obviously taken a lot of courage on his part.

Jungkook’s marks had suddenly filtered from baby pink to a deep maroon, his face looked nothing except shy and a bit hazy as he mumbled, “Would you let me…? I don’t...exactly share the same anatomy as your male counterpart...Orionian’s...intimacy looks a bit different.”

You felt intrigued and horny at the same time, it was tentacles wasn’t it? Please god let it be the tentacles, “You can’t threaten me with a good time,” you laughed a little, trying to take a little bit of the nervous edge off Jungkook as you offered a small smile, “Just show me, I’m...what other humans would consider pretty kinky. Doubt it’ll scare me off.” You couldn’t admit that his tentacles were immediately making your panties soaked because god did you want to be filled up like a scared hentai girl right now.

You squeaked at Jungkook suddenly climbing on top of you, his eyes hazy and he pulled the sweatshirt over his head, revealing the strip of glowing maroon that led up the center of his arms and wrapped over his shoulders, his tentacles suddenly emerging from his back much to your horny excitement, “Our tendons are both are strongest and weakest point of our body.” Jungkook mumbled against your neck, the feeling of something extremely foreign wrapping around your thigh, almost something between like a soft silicon and jello substance.

Not sticky like you had anticipated, but soft enough that it could be almost considered wet, “They protect us but they’re also what we use to procreate with, if they’re cut off or majorly damaged, we become sterilized. My eggs…” He suddenly became a bit timid as he mumbled, “They aren’t fertile yet...But regardless I wouldn’t fill you unless we were bonded, so you won’t have to worry about impregnation. Intimacy is still an act of strengthening a bond though, so it’s utilized a lot at the beginning of an Orionian relationship.”

You weren’t fully paying attention at this point, too busy nearly drooling at the feeling of his tendon slithering along your clothes, “I can understand if you’d prefer to not do this though.” Jungkook seemed somewhat embarrassed and timid, his tendons slithering around your pajama band but doing nothing further.

“No!” He nearly jumped at how you almost yelled it, your eyes frantic and you were nearly dripping at how horny you were, your voice needy as you whined, “I’m literally a slut Jungkook, I’m more than happy to experiment.”

Jungkook didn’t need anymore confirmation then just that, his tentacle that had been playing with the band of your pajamas immediately pushing underneath it as you whined, your legs immediately parting for it as it ran up your panties, the soft wetness that ebbed from it soaking whatever was dry of your panties, was this arousal of his own? He moaned softly as he pressed his face into your neck, “I know you feel this is fast, but Orionian’s tend to not like to waste time.” His tentacles slid along your panties before pushing inside the band.

Your lips parted at the soft wet sensation of it gently prodding along your clit in exploration making a yelp escape you.

Jungkook jolted a little in concern as he looked down at you, somewhat shyly and his cheeks were a deep maroon much like his marks, “Keep…! Fuck!” You whined at the way his tentacles as if testingly flicked along your clit, another tentacle which had been floating behind him absently had suddenly emerged forward, making quick work of your pajamas and panties as the other continued working along your clit making you whimper as your back arched a little.

The second tendon slowly brushed along your soaked cunt, embarrassingly wet sounds could be heard throughout the room as Jungkook moaned in contentment, “This feels so nice,” he mumbled with a whine, the second tentacle which had been stroking you slowly wiggled against your entrance making you squeak. Your horniness couldn’t be put into words at how bad you wanted this man to shove all tentacles inside you.

Your lips immediately parting at the tip of the tentacle pushing inside you, it was too soft to be considered that of a toy or dildo but too firm to be anything foreign, you couldn’t resist propping yourself up onto your elbows, your legs spread as you looked down, your face twisting and cheeks throbbing at the lewd sight of two tentacles hard at work on your cunt, one continuously flicking your clit and rubbing along it while the other began to testingly thrust inside you.

Your lips dropped open as you moaned feeling Jungkook push it further and further inside you before giving it a testing wiggle, a scream nearly ripped from your throat at how it hit all the right spots.

Unable to even support yourself as you dropped back down with a whine as Jungkook quickly began to pick up the pace even more, “Fuck,” he moaned softly, the tentacle pulsed and throbbed as it squished and wiggled while being thrusted back and forth in short motions, your cunt was so tight and your walls kept trapping him further and further inside you as you whined, “Mm, females of my kind don’t have anything like this,” he moaned two more tentacles had suddenly appeared from his back, one pinning your wrists above your head and the other wandering to your flimsy shirt before pushing underneath it, and much to his delight Jungkook found nothing underneath except your soft breasts, “Nothing this- mmm, fuck,” it came out more of a whine this time as you felt his tentacles wiggling in delight at the way your cunt clenched around him, “small, and warm...Fuck,” Jungkook dipped his head, running a hand through his hair, the third tendon wrapped around your nipple making you whimper, jolting as your cunt squeezed around the tentacle that was beginning to roughly split apart your walls as it discovered your g-spot, your mouth parting as whined spilled from your lips at the insane feeling of the tip of his tentacles flicking up against it rapidly.

“Ah! Fuck fuck fuck, Jungkook!” You whined as your back arched, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head at how many sensations were going on, between him finding the sweet spot of your clit, the tip of his tentacle flicking up into your g-spot the other one squeezing with just the right amount of pressure on your nipple.

Jungkook’s lips parted and his eyes were hazy but in awe at the way your body contorted, your small little walls nearly entrapping his tentacle as you came harshly, whined and whimpers escaping you as he forcefully kept flicking up into your g-spot, his other rubbing gently against your clit as your body frantically moved, yet your hips kept thrusting up to try and take more of his tendon as you whined, “Fuck…! Jungkook! Ah..!” Jungkook moaned softly as he gave you just what you wanted, pushing himself further inside you until he was dangerously close to your cervix.

His tentacle was soft enough that no pain was even involved as he kept wiggling it into you, soundless moans escaped you as your cunt began wrapping convulsing around him, your clit burning in pleasure due to sensitivity as he kept letting the soft tendon rub against the tender bud.

“Fuck!” You whined, liquid suddenly spewing from your cunt much to Jungkook’s surprise, his tentacle had immediately restricted at the feeling leaving your cunt feeling empty and tears nearly escaping yours eyes in frustration due to it despite his second tendon continually abusing your clits sweet spot, within the second the first tentacle entered your once more pushing with no hesitation right back to its original position as Jungkook began wiggling once again with short thrusts.

Your walls kept squeezing around him causing him to moan as he whined, “You- you need to stop doing that...feels too good.” He mumbled shyly against your skin as you nearly convulsed in pleasure at the way his third tendon was wrapped around your nipple, giving the bit of pressure that had your cunt squeezing around his tentacle, too busy in your own pleasure to care about what he wanted, your hand wrapped around his throat making his eyes widen and his lips part submissively, “I’m gonna keep doing what I want baby- fuck...I think you like it when my little cunt squeezes around it.” You purposely clenched around his tentacle and you could physically feel it throb inside you.

Jungkook’s lips trembled a little a moan escaped him at your hand squeezing lightly around his throat his tentacle immediately fucking you even faster in comply as your lips parted in glee, your hips rolling a little to slide along the slick thick tendon, “Thats right baby boy, I bet you’ve never felt a cunt like this before huh?” You let out a shaky cackle as your hand sadistically squeezed harder around his neck.

His gaze dropped and he only whined, quickly crumbling to your dominant hands that only excited you further, it was one thing to cross off your bucket list getting fucked by an alien, it was two being able to dom one, “Oh am I suddenly in control now?” You mockingly pouted before a twisted smirk curled on your face at how Jungkook wouldn’t meet your eyes any longer.

Power was practically leaking in your veins, you were getting fucked by a tentacle alien and he was a shy little sub? Your squeezed harsher around his neck, a whiney moan suddenly escaping him as his tentacle harshly pulsed inside you before it frozen, his face buried into your neck, impatient and now knowing you could boss him around freely your hips lifted, squelching and slipping around the tendon with ease as his lips trembled against your neck, “Mmm! P-please! You have to slow down…” he whimpered a little at how cruel you were being with him.

You could care less in this moment though, too busy living out your dream fantasy bucking your hips against the soft subtle material, your cunt squeezing around him as you moaned softly.

Your moan twisted to a growl at the feeling of his tentacle pausing in your clit, your hand finding his hair as you harshly balled it into your hand, “I didn’t give you permission to stop.” Jungkook’s gaze lowered and his eyes a little watery despite the angry pout on his face.

“You aren’t listening to me.” He mumbled stubbornly and your lips twitched, outwardly showing displeasure but inwardly seeking the chase he was trying to give. Jungkook fumbled with you had pushed away, briefly his tendons pulled away in semi surprise, at first assuming you had taken his shy words the wrong way but he was quickly mistaken when he was shoved onto the bed, a whine escaping him as the tentacles quickly adjusted to be semi flattened. His lips were quivering at the sight of your naked body straddling him and your hand on his jaw, “Truthfully, I don’t think you want me to listen baby.” You pouted mockingly, the feeling of his stretched tentacles seekingly wrapping around your thighs, “Open.”

Jungkook’s lips parted a little, his eyes watering and looking a little confused at your words, but you had took advantage of the opportunity, spitting into his mouth as he suddenly whined, his ears bright red following along with the magenta color coursing through his body as your hand wrapped around his throat in a firm grip, “Good boy.” You smiled loosely, wiping a stray bit of saliva from his lip as he whined, a tentacle beginning to stroke against your soaked cunt once more but this time he did nothing except in hopes of an invitation.

“Such a good boy, go on, I know you want to.” You cooed out, your head hanging a little and your lips parting at the feeling of the tentacle plunging back inside your warm walls with a loud squelch, “Stay still.” You commanded sharply and with a noisy whine from Jungkook as he obediently listened, you could feel the foreign tendon inside you pulsing still as if it nearly killed him to do so. Your hips steadily began to move along the tentacle, your cunt clenching around it as you took more of him it only got fatter and thicker the more you took.

“Ahh, fuck. That’s it baby, c’mon keep filling me up. I know you want to. I can see it in your face.” You taunted, feeling his tentacle doing a test wiggle inside you as you slid along it, arousal coating him as he whined, you had a great view of his other tentacles sliding from under his back and extending upward, the second quickly made way for your clit much to your excitement, your lips parted and a whine escaping you as it kept rubbing into your sweet spot it had previously discovered.

You were too busy trembling and moaning, attempting to fight off another orgasm at the feeling of your clit almost feeling like it was being ate out at how soft the tip of his tentacle was gently lapping against it and a soft wet arousal of his own leaking from the tip, you had bounced against his tendon in short motions, craving all of him inside you as your body began to convulse, your hands balling against his chest with a whine at how difficult it was to stop yourself from cumming immediately.

Jungkook wasn’t letting go without a fight though, a third tentacle had surprised you, pushing between the cheeks of your ass making you nearly gasp a whine, “Fuck! Fuck, please.” You mumbled in a moment of weakness, giving your consent that you’d like to trust he’d be able to make this feel good. Jungkook didn’t hesitate for a second, the tentacle oozed a slippery liquid, his own arousal along your puckered rim. You were almost too fucked out to even pay attention, your body busy still riding him and trying to focus on anything but the feeling of the slippery tentacle flicking at your clit and finding nearly every pleasurable nerve physically possible.

It was difficult to miss the third one pushing slowly into your ass as your lips jumbled something nearly incomprehensible, your body collapsing semi against him, only being held up by your weak forearms, “Mmph! Fuck baby keep going, just like that. Such a good boy for me.”

Jungkook squeaked out what sounded like a pleasant noise at the praise, perhaps sensing your body beginning to crumble as his tentacles took back over, quickly thrusting inside you once more and wiggling to his heart's pleasure as drool nearly dropped from your lips. Unable to even do anything or say anything with two tentacles plunged inside you.

The tip of the tentacle was just narrow enough to slip inside your ass with a gentle sting but pleasurable enough to make your toes curl and whines escape you at the feeling of the force of his thrusts on either side of your body. His second was still lapping up around your clit, finding that perfect spot that nearly made your vision go white and you weren’t sure what escaped your throat other than possibly the best orgasm you would ever experience in your life.

And it didn’t stop after a second, it just kept going with his tentacles drilling inside you and lapping around your delicate hyper sensitive clit as you whined and cried against him. Jungkook moaned softly as you felt what potentially might have been a second tentacle greedily pushing inside your cunt, whimpers escaping you at how harshly he was thrusting up inside you and how stretched your body was.

Your mouth parting at the feeling of the forth tentacle pushing its way to meet the first as you squeaked and whined against him, a tentacle wrapping around your waist to hold up your lower body that nearly collapsed as your vision blurred with tears at how hard you were being fucked. Jungkook’s eyes were shut tightly and his hands had finally grabbed your waist as extra support as his third tentacle wiggled its way further into your ass. The pleasurable sting becoming more and more noticeable as you cried out at the feeling of one tentacle flicking up against your g-spot and the other harshly thrusting into you while your clit was hypersensitive at the feeling of being rubbed and flicked.

Your last orgasm couldn’t even compete with this one as you cried out, body convulsing and cunt tightening as you nearly scrambled almost looking possessed to the unknown eye, your body had clenched up so hard at being so filled you hadn’t even heard the sharp whine from Jungkook. Hot liquid suddenly spurted everywhere the majority of it inside you but some getting on you, over the bed, everywhere.

Jungkook whimpered and whined, digging his face into your neck and his tentacles were pulsing sharply as if literally pumping out every drop of liquid they could inside you. You were so fucked out you could hardly even ask what in the actual hell he just injected inside you. You had already been tired before but your body was burning and aching, feeling as if you had literally been ripped to pieces.

At least you finally got a piece of that tentacle action.

You were not someone that fucked and then immediately slept afterwards, typically after a one night stand, depending on your relation with the person you would either ghost them by pretending to go to the bathroom, talk and hang out afterwards, or go get something to eat together, or by yourself, you weren’t picky.

Rubbing your blurry eyes you yawned, your body aching with even the slightest movement, Jungkook was the first man who had ever fucked you so hard, you had little to no choice but to fall asleep afterwards, you probably couldn’t even stand if you wanted too. He was curled up against your chest at the moment, his head pressed into your breasts looking way too content at the moment.

Your eyes trailed down at his fluffy raven hair before down the warm tawny skin of his back, something in your chest stirring, it felt like it was almost physically tugging you closer to his body, your hand finding its way to his hair making him stir a little. Jungkook’s arms wiggled against your waist to make himself comfortable once more before relaxed with a content sigh.

The marks on his back glowed a sentient purple, you had never gotten a good look at his back before.

And while this wasn’t that great of a position to view, you were still curious with what you could see, they formed two long strips down his back widening a fair bit and they stopped just at the smallest part of his waist. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve remarked that it looked like he had wings ripped from his back.

As morbid as it sounded, and that is of course if they glowed like this. Jungkook really was the prettiest thing you had ever seen, your hand hadn’t even meant to pull from his hair down his neck, you couldn’t help the tug in your chest wanting to touch.

However the moment your fingers grazed over the mark that covered his left shoulder blade Jungkook nearly flew out of your arms making you jolt in just as much surprise as him, his lips parted and he had sat up, gaze sharp as he looked around as if for any possible intruders. Slowly as he woke up though he came to the realization it was just you and him, your smile becoming somewhat sheepish as you mumbled, “Um, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You cleared your throat feeling bad now, was it just that sensitive? You might not know much about Orionian’s but you could take a guess and assume that was the opening to where his tentacles laid dormant, and given they were also how they procreated...It was natural Jungkook was probably a little defensive about them being touched.

Jungkook said nothing though, only staring at you for a long moment before he whined a little, suddenly crawling back up to you before collapsing on top of you as you huffed, “You can’t startle me like that, my scaling is sensitive.” He mumbled a little shy, grabbing your hand as he placed it back on top of his head obviously wanting affection.

Your fingers dug back into his scalp making a pleasant noise escape him as his body relaxed once more, “...Scaling?” Your brows furrowed at his words, complying with his silent demand to have his hair played with as he curled up against you, his lips tugged into a smile as he rested his face between your breast.

“Yeah, my scales.” Jungkook nodded as he held up his arm, pointing at the glowing marks making you frown, that...looked nothing like scales....Jungkook smiled a little as he rested back down while explaining, “There filled with hyper plasma so depending on the hormonal chemistry of my body will change colors.” You got that part, even before he could speak English, but still...when you thought of scales, you thought of stuff like fish and...scaly things. Not aliens.

Jungkook only smiled happily as he looked up at you, it looked like thousands of stars twinkling in his eyes and the dim lights reflected off his iridescent skin, little tones of purple and blue could be spotted as he lifted his hand up to cup your cheek, his fingers carefully trailing down your jawline. There was a wave in your chest, something strong like...the only thing you could describe was pure happiness, “Hey what did you blow inside?” You hadn’t even meant to ask that question but it had abruptly crossed your mind.

Jungkook’s gaze faltered a little, his scales suddenly turning bright pink and his bashfully lowered his gaze, pressing his cheek on your chest as he mumbled, “It was just plasma, it’s what helps carry eggs when they’re released but...I already told you...my eggs aren’t ready yet. You have no possible chance of getting pregnant without my prior knowledge.”

His fingers tethered against your stomach as if saddened at the idea that his future kin weren’t in your stomach, a wave of sadness fleeting inside your chest briefly as you frowned, why did you feel so odd? You weren’t even the least bit sad about not being pregnant.

“Okay...good I was just..wondering since…” You coughed a little, not finishing your sentence which you were originally going to say because he used you like an actual cum dump- not that you minded. But still. It was good to know. Jungkook said no more, only burying into your chest with a pouty whine.

Yawning you stretched out looking around before grabbing your phone which had somehow made it alive on your night stand, your notifications flooded with Jimin’s drunk texting on where you went last night and why you weren’t home...Wait, your eyes darted to the time, it was noon?! You had a lecture in half an hour!

“Fuck! I have to get to class!” You immediately jolted up making Jungkook whine as he was jostled onto the bed as you limped along in search of your clothes, your body aching and resisting with each fumble before you nearly collapsed out of fatigue while grabbing your panties.

“Can’t you just stay? Just for a little longer?” Jungkook mumbled, his lips in a large puppy like pout as he held out his hand to you, something stirring in your chest that wanted to just curl back up against him, his eyes doe like and soft, almost pleading for you to cuddle back up against him.

“I have midterms coming up Jungkook, I really can’t afford to skip class.” You offered an apologetic smile, “Besides it’s not like we can’t go get something to eat later or anything.” Pulling your pants up you wobbled to the door, frowning as you pulled your sweatshirt back over your head, where was the door handle…?

“..B-but!” Jungkook fumbled as he pulled his shirt over his head before hurrying over to you, “Just five more minutes? Or two? Please…!” There was something urgent in his voice as his lips trembled as if he would be devastated if you left.

Examining the door your lips parted as you pushed the button on the wall, jolting a little as the door slid open, “Jungkook,” You paused briefly, feeling a dull ache in your chest, a brief desire to do as pleaded as you looked up at him, “I really have to go to class okay? I’ll drop by later when I’m finished for the day I’m sure you...have stuff you need to talk about with your...um...kin…” You raised your brow a little awkwardly before you back walking down the hallway, something inside the back of your head almost tempted to stay with him.

He looked so panicked and whiny, it made you feel bad for having to go, and furthermore you secretly wished you could stay longer but you couldn’t afford to miss class with midterms so close.

If your memory was correct this should lead to…! Aha, you felt victorious at the sight of the main, living area? The circular table was towards the smaller three step ledge that went up into the control room and the purple bonsai-like plant which had just been freshly pruned sat delicately on the other side of the room.

“No! I....Can I come with you then? And then we can come back here together later?” Jungkook pleaded, his lips trembling and his eyes almost watery as you paused with a sigh, he was really tugging on your heart strings huh...It was almost easier to deny him back when he was unable to actually speak his wants to you.

“Jungkook I- I mean I guess you could…? But like, it’s just lecture, it’s boring, I have to be focused the whole time and no offense but...I feel like if you came I wouldn’t focus.” You pulled a little away from him with an awkward smile while silently hoping the door had been fixed.

“Morning you two,” You turned around at the sight of Namjoon appearing from the large opening of the control room Taehyung who still looked sour following after him only to lean against the wall with crossed arms, Namjoon stepped down the three steps as he offered a polite smile, “I hope you slept well, I’m sure it’s a lot different compared to human dorms.”

You looked away from Namjoon unable to speak at the question of having slept well, you hardly slept half the night after getting your back blown out, but he was right, it was nothing like human- in any aspect whatsoever, whether it was the bed or who you got fucked by last night.

“It was fine...um the door....Is it fixed?” You pointed your thumb behind your shoulder as you offered a weak smile.

Namjoon nodded stepping closer before he abruptly paused, his brows furrowing before he looked between you and Jungkook without so much as a word, it made you somewhat self conscious as you shuffled in your spot at nobody volunteering to get the door open, “Yeah, it’s fixed, umm…” His smile was a little tense before he looked between you and Jungkook, “Are you both going out? Already?”

Jungkook refused to look his elder in the eyes, his lips plush and pouty, hair dusting over his eyes as he shuffled in his spot refusing to answer whatever unasked question his elder had, “Uh yeah, I’m going to class, Jungkook can stay here though, I’ll be back later.” You shrugged, not understanding what their problem was.

Taehyung had not interjected into the conversation yet, his dark hair brushing over his eyes only in the opposite effect of Jungkook, making him look as if he had a death warrant with your name on it, “And leave Jungkook alone?” He gritted his teeth looking like he was ready to snarl at you, your lips quirked a little and your brow lifted in confusion, wasn’t that typically what people meant when they said they had to leave…?

“Uh yeah, and I’ll come back…?” You trailed off, making it sound more like a question then a statement before Taehyung suddenly pushed off the wall, his walk was by no means in any hurry, but his shoulders were squared and his steps were paced with determination that had you taking a step back at the sight of him not stopping until he was right in front of you.

The energy of the room had gone tense before Taehyung snarled, “You bonded with my little brother and now you’re going to leave him!?”

You shrieked at suddenly being shoved against the wall, your ribs throbbing in pain as Taehyung’s hand wrapped around your throat, crushing your windpipe as you gagged, “Humans really are pathetic selfish people.” Tentacles suddenly wrapped around Taehyung’s hand before he was ripped away from you, hot red scales were a blur as Jungkook stood in front of you protectively.

Your hands rubbing your sore throat as you leaned against the wall gasping for air, “Stay out of this!” Jungkook growled, his lips twitching and his eyes burning into his brothers, “This doesn’t involve you, let me sort it out and if you ever fucking touch my mate like that again I won’t hesitate to rip your eggs straight out of your utaria.”

You jolted at the sight of Taehyung lashing out at Jungkook, both of them slamming into the wall near the hallway as they grappled and yet you could only stare in shock at what had just happened and what you had just heard. Namjoon was immediately between them both separating the two as he growled, “Taehyung that wasn’t necessary! I doubt she even realizes what happened!” Namjoon immediately twisted towards Jungkook with a scowl, “And you! What did I tell you last night?”

Jungkook’s jaw was clenched, his scales a hot burning red that matched Taehyung’s and yet his eyes couldn’t meet Namjoon’s, his lips twitching a little as he glared into the wall, his expression slowly melting as Namjoon snapped, “What did I tell you!? Why can’t you two ever listen for once? If you had we probably wouldn’t even be stuck on Earth right now! This is your mess Jungkook, I told you it wasn’t a good idea to bond this early on in our stay on Earth.”

Jungkook’s expression had turned neutral but something in his eyes still seemed bitter as he stared at the ground now, perhaps too scared to look up at you, who had backed away from all the men in shock. You...but...Jungkook said…The silence set in and slowly each brother turned their gaze towards you before Jungkook was the last, his face filled with remorse at your expression as your lips parted, “You…! You told me-” Your lips parted variously before you finally forced out a sentence, “You lied to me!”

“I didn’t!” Jungkook immediately hurried over to you, his expression filled with guilt and desperation, “I- Y/n I wasn’t even aware we had bonded until Taehyung pointed it out! I’m sorry I had no idea I…!” All you heard was excuse after excuse though, something indescribable filled your chest and your vision blurred in anger.

“I’m going! I can’t…! I can’t even look at you right now Jungkook!” Upset felt like it had magnified tenfold in your chest as you rushed down the metal stairs, punching against the button before the door opened, your throat felt squeezed and like you were suffocating as you ran as far and fast as your legs could take you. What was happening to you?

“I’m fine…”

Jimin and Seokjin exchanged glances, light poured in from the opened door behind them of your bedroom, the blanket wrapped around your body has you held it up above your nose, “Uh don’t lie bitch,” Jimin quirked a brow, his lips twitching in anger at just the sight of you trying to tell such an obvious lie, “It’s been three days since...whatever happened with JK- “Jungkook,” “I don’t give a fuck what his name is, you’ve been a recluse ever since, what happened?”

Just the mention of Jungkook’s name made your chest physically ache as you curled further into yourself, you weren’t in physical pain, you couldn’t even fully describe it.

All of your feelings just felt so amplified, like they swirled at just the surface of your chest and ready to burst out at any given moment. It felt like a physical string around your heart that squeezed and tugged harder and harder that left you in a depressed state with no energy left to do anything except what you had been doing.

Weakly sleeping half the time or scrolling on your phone in a useless attempt to think about anything other than Jungkook. You couldn’t even understand how you felt so attached to him and how much your body ached to just be wrapped up in his arms, but you were still so upset at what had happened.

Questions swirled in your mind and to which you didn’t have the answer too and it made you even more upset that you wouldn’t get answers unless you went back, “Y/n, we’re just worried.” Seokjin raised his brows, his expression apprehensive but softened at the weak state you were in, “You haven’t been out of your room ever since the morning after the party. Midterms are just around the corner, I doubt you slack off for a shit reason.”

You only curled up further before you sighed, closing your eyes as you finally caved in and mumbled an explanation as to what had happened and what you were now suffering under. Seokjin seemed more calm but Jimin’s lips were twitching in anger as he scowled, “You’re joking! Well let’s just go and demand he cut whatever alien ties he has on you.”

You knew he was just trying to help but you only shook your head, “...Taehyung said I was the one that had apparently formed the bond, I didn’t even know that was possible.” You mumbled, you buried into your pillow, a feeling of guilt building into your chest as you tried to forget the ghost image of Jungkook’s hurt eyes in your mind.

“Well it’s obviously affecting you mentally and physically, I mean seriously, you haven’t showered in days, you aren’t eating, Y/n…” Seokjin kneeled down, a frown on his face, “You need to swallow your pride, as stubborn as you are, and go talk to Jungkook about this. We’ll come with you, you probably won’t even have the energy to get there, but he’s the only one who can help.”

You managed to roll over to your side, your back facing them both now as you pulled the blanket over your head, you didn’t want to face Jungkook again, you weren’t sure you were ready to. You had so many mixed feelings and you weren’t even sure what to begin on asking questions.

Neither said anymore before you heard Seokjin reluctantly sigh, “I’ll leave it for tonight, but tomorrow morning you’re giving us directions and we’re going to get this sorted.” They both left shortly after and closed the door sinking the room back into a depth of darkness. A heavy weight back on your chest and sudden ache filling you as you curled up, a dull sense of urgency inside you but you couldn’t distinguish what for. It felt like you needed to cry even despite not feeling sad, but maybe as a way to just release this energy.

But you didn’t do anything besides lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling as you sighed, trying to ignore the dull ache of your head, what a shit show. If you had known what your life would come to by just trying to be a good person, you would’ve left him in that ditch. ----

It felt like your body was being dragged through the mud, through the fire and hell maybe even gitting shit on at this point, “This is so stupid.” You mumbled, curled up in your hoodie as you hugged your knees into your chest in the back of Seokjin’s car.

“You’re the one that fucked an alien,” Jimin snorted, twisting in his seat as he cocked a brow, “Which, what possessed you to do that seriously? Your stupid little hentai fantasies?” He stared at you with a bizarre expression as you snorted weakly.

“Yeah pretty much.”

“Fucking knew it,” Jimin collapsed back in his seat, “We could get our assholes probed by aliens now because she couldn’t keep her panties on at the sight of a slimy tentacle.” He raised his hands dramatically and you could’ve sworn you heard Seokjin try to keep from laughing at you both.

“They’ll probe you with their tentacles too, apparently they make their own lube home made so they’ll slide it right in no problem.” If you had the energy you would’ve died laughing at the way Jimin whipped around in his seat in horror.

“No fucking way. You WILLINGLY let him do that to you?”

You couldn’t stop the weak laugh escaping you as you leaned your head against the window, “I’m a slut.” You shrugged before you lifted your head a little, “Right there! It should be in the field. I think it has some sort of cloaking shield or something.” Seokjin pulled off on the old winding back road which looked familiar enough.

He hadn’t been going fast to begin with and you had already stopped twice and the two other fields had been empty so this one had to be it, and if it wasn’t then it was safe to say you broken Jungkook’s heart right in two and he and his other space fuckboy brothers left Earth for good. Which you hoped not because you felt like you were in a weird limbo between life and death at the moment.

Stepping out of the car you paused as you heaved a breath, leaning against the car as you sighed, the energy feeling like it had been sucked straight out of your soul every passing minute. Jimin looked at you mildly concerned as you waved him off, slowly pushing yourself straight up as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

The comforts of your hoodie keep you warm as you ignore the dull ache in your chest, Seokjin and Jimin both kept close as you all looked like idiots wandering around in an empty field. The empty field however, upon stepping forward had suddenly blurred before the familiar sight of the ship came into view. Seokjin and Jimin were dumbfounded at the sight as they both stared.

You only trudged forward towards the door before you slammed your hand against the metal door, “Well? What are you both doing just standing there?” You asked with a furrowed brow.

“Well sorry I didn’t fuck an alien the first chance I got.” Jimin fumbled out with a huff as he hurried over along with Seokjin.

The door had immediately been opened to a relieved looking Namjoon, his eyes briefly landing on Jimin and Seokjin warily as he spoke, “I’m glad you came back! Come on, hurry in.” He ushered you in, “...I’m assuming these are your...friends…?”

“Best friends, roommates, the same guys that also allowed your little space fuckboy to stay with us.” Jimin growled out as he crossed his arms, standing as a big brother you never asked for as Seokjin snorted.

“Chill,” He shoved Jimin a little who only grumbled under his breath before he spoke, “I’m Seokjin and that’s Jimin, we’re Y/n’s roommates we’re already uh...aware of what you guys are we just...we don’t know what’s going on, we just want Y/n to be okay.”

Namjoon nodded slowly, still a little wary but it was to be expected, he said no more as he widened the latch for the three of you, “Y/n left right at the beginning stage of their bond when it’s imperative that the newly bonded couple stay together and establish a stable connection. If not, it becomes unstable and drains the life force out of both individuals causing a wide variety of ailments and illnesses to take over. It’s good you guys came back when you did, Jungkook is doing even worse sense he was the Si in the bond.”

“What is she doing back here?” Your lips twitched a little at the snarl from Taehyung who had shot up from his seat at the table, his eyes glaring holes into you and honestly, if he could vaperize you into dust at the moment you were sure he probably would.

“Here to break the little probe ass connection your fuckboy put on her,” Jimin snapped back unappreciative at someone talking this way to you especially in the condition you were in right now.

Taehyung’s lip twitched as he shot out of his seat, “My little brother may be naive but he had good intentions and she took advantage of his fragile state! He wasn’t in any sort of headspace to do anything!” You only curled away from Taehyung with mixed feelings, you wouldn’t necessarily describe Jungkook’s state of mind at the time, fragile as it was just horny.

Namjoon sighed as he looked at Seokjin before at you and then the two feuding men who were practically glaring into one another, “Taehyung, don’t do anything irrational, I’m going to get Jungkook.” Namjoon disappeared and it was quiet inside the ship as a tension took over the room.

You tried your best to ignore it as you slumped against the wall, listening to the whirling on the interior running. Not a minute later you heard a loud flutter of steps as you looked up, Jungkook’s hair had been ruffled and he had looked extraordinarily tired, his scales however were lit up a sky blue, his lips parted as if trying to figure out if you were real or not before he hurried to you.

His arms wrapping around you and a small whimper escaping him as his nose rubbed into your neck, your face pressed into his chest with a sigh of relief, the dull ache in your chest fading quickly as you basked in the warmth of Jungkook’s arms. You had hugged many people in your life before and sure it was nice, but you couldn’t even describe the wash of comfort and love that radiated through your entire being at being curled up in this man’s arms.

Jungkook’s nose nudged at your neck a little and buried himself into your embrace as his fingers fiddled with the thick material of your hoodie, “Jungkook,” Jungkook shuffled a little, his body practically wrapped around you as his eyes slowly looked up from his content figure to meet Namjoon’s gaze, “You both should go lay down and begin to properly set your bond together, I’m sure you’re both exhausted.”

Jungkook nodded wordlessly, perhaps not trusting himself to speak as he began to lead you towards his pod, “Woah, wait hold on.” Jimin cut in only for a snarl like growl to escape Jungkook, tentacles suddenly shooting from his back protectively pulling towards the front of his body to create a barrier between you and any threat that might take you away from him.

“Woah holy fuck!” Jimin nearly screeched, holding his hands up and freaking out a little at seeing a killer glare on such an innocent face, “We didn’t come here for this…! What, what do you mean, set a bond? I don’t want Y/n out of our sight…!”

Jungkook’s lip twitched in annoyance as he set his chin on your shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist and you could see the red glow of his scales slowly deepening further into a dark maroon, he did not look happy.

Namjoon put up a hand, offering a tense smile, “All that entails is them being together and being close, they need to stabilize their bond. Once it’s set they can figure out whether they want to...bond further or…” Namjoon didn’t finish his sentence, is eyes warily lingering on the younger’s expression which was sharp and annoyed, “...You get the idea, I would advise against stopping him, trying to separate them now when he just got her back….I can’t guarantee I’ll keep you both alive.”

Jimin and Seokjin shared a wary glance before stepping aside, Jungkook’s gaze broody as he watched them sharply as he trudged you both forward, his tentacles still out and floating behind him now as if ready to strike on contact. The tension didn’t leave until you were back into his pod once more, the room having not been changed except for a lot more clutter accumulation- much like your own room.

You hadn’t even had the chance to open your mouth before you were suddenly picking up, your legs wrapping around Jungkook as you squirmed, “Jungkook!” You squeaked out, his hands gripping your ass tightly but his face kept nudging into your neck as he whined, the killer aura he had not seconds ago immediately disappearing, “Don’t ever do that again,” You were nearly crushed when you were dropped onto the bed before Jungkook collapsed on top of you, “Please.” Guilt nearly devoured your heart at the way Jungkook held back a sob, his voice pleading and cracked, “It’s not fair! You-! You can’t just do this to me then leave. Never again.” You felt warm substance dripping onto your skin and your heart was pounding in your chest.

An innate need coursing through your veins to dry his tears as you did so, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry okay?” You whispered out, your hands cupping his cheeks, that iridescent glow on his skin and his eyes watery and big, “I’m just…! I was just scared, I didn’t know what was going on and I just thought I needed time to think. I had no idea what the effects were and what would happen if I left. I’m not going to leave okay? I won’t leave.”

Jungkook only closed his eyes, tears falling down his cheeks and you couldn’t help but watch in a melancholy awe at an almost glittery substance filling his tears, making the stains on his skin glisten and glitter under the dark lights of his room, Jungkook said no more, perhaps not trusting himself too and only curled himself further against your as your hands soothingly ran through his hair as his body melted into yours. No words were further spoken between you both as you curled against him once more, your nose burying in his hair with the innate need to comfort him.

Feelings were too intense and magnified, as if you could feel every speck of hurt and misery Jungkook had suffered without you and despite being cognitively aware you in any other case wouldn’t be like this, you still were. You didn’t understand what happened, or how it happened, but what you did know was that despite all of the uncertainty, Jungkook needed you.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, neither of you had talked for what seemed like hours, only staying close in one another's arms, and slow but surely, that unstable feeling in your chest was beginning to fade and was replaced by what you could only describe as a warm, bright thrum.

Both of you were awake, but Jungkook’s eyes looked far away, his face still laid against your chest as you tenderly stroked through his hair, “Jungkook,” He didn’t respond right away, shifting a little before those doe eyes looked up at you, his lips jutted into a soft pout that nearly broke your heart out of guilt, “What....what’s going on? I don’t understand anything.” Your fingers delicately traced his prominent cheekbones, his face immediately nuzzling into your hand as his eyes closed.

Jungkook’s lips trembled only a little as he mumbled, “...I...I’m not sure...I told you before that in order for a bond to be created it has to be wanted between both parties involved,” His nose nudged your hand as you tenderly thumbed his cheek, “Wh-which means...even if it wasn’t a surface thought you still energetically reached out and initiated the bond making you the Fi and me the Si since I accepted without realizing.”

His lips went pouty before he pressed his head back against your chest as you stared down at him mildly confused, perhaps realizing this he spoke further, “Fi and Si are considered sacred opposites, in a bond both people take on one or the other, the initiator the Fi and the receiver the Si, it makes sense you didn’t feel as much as I did, the Fi in the bond isn’t affected nearly as heavily as the Si is because you were the one who created the bond.”

You still didn’t quite understand other than this being a Yin and Yang equivalent with a dash of omegaverse on the side, but then again, if humans had descended from Orionian’s then the apple truly didn’t fall too far from the tree.

“And...the Fi is what…? The more dominant one?” You quirked a brow, a smile threatening to tug on your lips as Jungkook looked up at you, an unfair pout of his face as he set his chin on your chest, leading you to believe there was some merit to your words.

“Not exactly, it just means you were the one who established the bond, making you the one who, in more primal words, the caretaker. With newly bonded couples, it’s imperative that you be together for the first few days to stabilize the bond. Si tends to be more....” He shifted a little, his scales becoming pink as he buried into your chest, “...Clingy...and Fi tends to facilitate and care for Si while the bond stabilizes.”

Your hand made its way back to his hair as you tenderly combed through the soft silky locks as Jungkook’s relaxed back against you, practically melting into your touch as you hummed, “And...if it isn’t stabilized?”

Jungkook shifted a little against you as he mumbled, “...Well, both people become....I don’t know how to truly describe, if a bond isn’t stabilized...it becomes difficult to distinguish your own feelings from your partners, and with the bond unstable it causes an emptiness to fill both which causes sadness and pain, but because feelings can be mutually felt, it magnifies those feelings tenfold...Until eventually….” Jungkook frowned as he shrugged a little timidly, “Both go insane, or end up commiting suicide out of despair. Si feels it a lot more intensely then Fi though because of being the one who was tethered into the bond rather than creating it.”

Oh…

You said nothing, feeling even worse now knowing what had happened and what you could have possibly caused, not only this but for Jungkook to suffer through so much all because you couldn’t just hear him out for less than five minutes, “Don’t blame yourself,” Jungkook sat up a little to look at you earnestly, as if knowing exactly what you felt despite not saying anything, “You don’t know anything about Orionian’s, I...I should’ve handled everything better then I did…” His gaze lowered looking a little glassy as he sighed, “Just...please never do that again.” He collapsed back against you with a quiet mumble, “I was miserable.”

“I won’t baby.” You ushered softly, pressing your lips into his hair as he basked in your love, the silence taking over once more as you relaxed back down against him, intending on letting yourself fall asleep again before you felt a low rumble in your stomach, before you sighed...Well he did say since you were….Fi...that you were supposed to be a caretaker....?

“Hey, I’m starving...you want me to get us something to eat?” You sat up a little as Jungkook shifted beneath you with a whine, his cheeks puffing a little as he huffed, saying nothing but you had a suspicion that he was definitely hungry, “I’m getting us something to eat, what do you want babe?” You got out of bed making Jungkook scramble with another whine.

He immediately latched himself to you as you sighed, “Then we’re going together. Do you guys even have human food here?”

“We have plamatic barrettes.” Jungkook perked a little in excitement as you frowned.

“Can...Are...are they edible for humans?” You raised a brow as you opened the door, doing an awkward waddle as Jungkook back hugged you, happily nuzzling into your neck before he frowned.

“Well...um…” He rubbed his head as you tutted, it wasn’t that you weren’t willing to try it but you were really craving some fries right now and whatever it was they ate, didn’t sound even close to a potato.

“We can try it later babe, I brought my wallet so we can go get something to eat, if Jimin and Seokjin haven’t left it’ll be like a two minute drive.” You shrugged as you both entered the common space.

“You both aren’t going anywhere.” Namjoon had been running around with Taehyung while Jimin and Seokjin were working frantically on...what looked like an engine box as the man turned around with a serious expression making you and Jungkook twist into concern, “The Arbitrators are here on Earth, which means we’re leaving.”

You didn’t quite understand the gravity of the situation but...you had a feeling this wasn’t an ideal situation.

#bts #bts fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #alien!jungkook #bts imagine #jungkook scenario

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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

Someone Blue//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight language, angst, a lot of confusion, fluffy ending

Summary: Fred spots a familiar face at his brother’s wedding, and has a sinking suspicion about why she’s acting so upset during this time of celebration.

Prompts: Enemies to Lovers (kind of) and Weddings with the dialogue prompts “you look like you need a hug” and “did you need something?”

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Day 1 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

Angelina looked absolutely ethereal, skin glowing in the shimmering lights as she glided across the grass as if it was a ballroom floor. Her white dress was slightly stained, mostly from when her now husband tackled her to the ground after their first kiss as a married couple, and yet it only made her seem all the more angelic.

George’s feet seemed to never touch the ground. He was moving at record speeds, prancing and hopping and skipping around the dance floor, dragging his wife along with him. It was the most joyful Fred had ever seen him.

Not when they left Hogwarts, not when they opened their shop, not even when Angelina said yes to the proposal could have compared to the happiness on George’s face. Nor Angelina’s. They were in a pure state of bliss.

The rest of the wedding-goers seemed to match their energy. Fred couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with drunken laughs and horrid dancing, and the occasional congratulations or two from some tipsy guests who didn’t know that the man they were talking to wasn’t the groom.

All in all, it was an amazing night. The field behind the burrow had become a traditional wedding venue for the growing Weasley children, so far hosting Bill, Percy, Ron, and now George’s days to remember. The tents and lights were all set up as they were with Bill and Fleur’s wedding, except this time there was no risk of Death Eaters ruining the event. Hopefully.

However, while making his way around to talk to (and flirt with) the guests, Fred happened to notice one person who did not fit the overzealous tone. Well, he didn’t really happen to notice. Rather he’d been staring at her throughout the entire night, watching her somber mood break through her happy façade. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

You were standing by yourself, but you weren’t secluded from the action. Rather, you were right in the middle of things, on the very edge of the dance floor, staring out at the masses of bodies swinging their partners around. Your arms were crossed over your chest, a defensive position that Fred had seen so many times in you before.

He turned away and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t any of his business if you were upset. The two of you were barely even friends anymore. You had cut him out of your life so many years ago and never looked back. To this day, Fred still didn’t know why, and it killed him.

He wanted to walk away. To go the other direction toward a beautiful guest wearing a flowing red dress, hair done up perfectly. The stranger would be the smart choice. A fun way to spend the evening, dancing around and snogging under moonlit trees. But, against his better judgement, Fred’s heart wouldn't let him leave.

Sighing, Fred lifted his feet and made his way in the other direction, to the girl who couldn’t care less about him.

You stood unmoving, except for a subtle sway to the music. People brushed by you, but you paid them no mind. You were too focused on something else. As Fred drew nearer, he was able to follow your line of sight to the people in question. The newlyweds.

Fred bristled before softening slightly. Of course. This must be about George. Back at Hogwarts, Fred was positive you had the biggest crush on his brother. You were always tagging along with their jokes, even when they got you into huge trouble. You definitely spent more time alone with George than Fred, sharing whispers and stares at the expense of the older twin. He could never get George to break and tell him what you two talked about. George even took you to the Yule Ball in your 6th year. You had never looked as radiant as you did that night, except for maybe this moment. Fred wished he had asked you to dance at the ball, but he never worked up the courage to. He didn’t want you to internally grimace at the thought of dancing with the “lesser” Weasley twin when George was right there.

In his recollection of memories, Fred hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten to you, and how you were no longer gazing at the couple dancing. You were now staring at him.

“Did you need something?”

Fred was shaken out of his imagination, met with an annoyed glare but soft smile coming from you. His surprise was immediately replaced with his signature cocky grin, leaning his hand onto one of the wedding tables while keeping his gaze on you. Unfortunately, his hand accidentally dipped into a wine glass, but he quickly pulled it out and hoped you didn’t notice. You did.

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet one of your oldest friends, now is it?” Fred wiped his wine-covered hand on his suit pants and slipped it into his pocket, pretending to be unbothered by his previous mistake.

You turned your eyes away from him, once again gluing them to the dance floor. “I think it’s fitting, seeing as how you were creepily staring at me for about 5 minutes before I said something.”

Fred’s ears grew pink at the accusation. “I, umm, I didn’t realize it was that long. Or that you noticed. Sorry.” He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to glance around at other guests who might interest him more.

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Fred cocked his head to the side in question.

“Why’d you come over here? Was there something you needed?”

“Ah, yes well,” Fred began smoothly, “I saw this darling beauty from across the tent and I just could not take my eyes off of her--”

“Fred,” you interrupted. You were looking at him again, your gaze piercing through him, forcing him to tell you the truth, to tell you everything about him. His fears, his hopes and dreams, what he had for breakfast this morning. He wanted to tell you it all.

“The truth, please.”

Clearing his throat, and his mind of whatever thoughts just plagued him, Fred decided to be honest. You deserved that much.

“You look like you need a hug,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

Evidently, those were not the words you were expecting to hear. You were prepared with about a dozen quips to say in response to whatever cocky joke Fred was about to make. But he didn’t, and nothing could have prepared you for what he did say.

“I--I need a what?”

“Sorry, have you lost your hearing or was I not loud enough? It’s definitely not the second; you’ve told me on numerous occasions that I have the biggest mouth of anyone you know.”

There it was. But it still made you giggle, relaxing and gravitating closer to your companion.

“I heard you,” you said, “just wasn’t expecting that from you, I guess.”

Fred took a half step closer, visibly glad when you didn’t move away. “Wasn’t expecting me to have noticed your behavior, or wasn’t expecting me to care if I did?”

It took you a few seconds to respond. “Both.”

He let out a sound of understanding before you both averted your eyes, looking straight ahead. Occasionally, Fred would try to look at you using his peripheral vision, and you would do the same. It became a kind of game--just an awkward back and forth between two people who used to be so close, and were now so far apart.

You game ended when one of the wedding guests decided to clink their glass, beginning a chorus of high pitched chimes to echo throughout the room. You watched as George turned to find Angelina, running to her to give her a kiss so full of love and passion that it took everything Fred had not to shout out a joke and ruin the moment. He could do that next time.

He noticed you stiffen at the kiss, presumably because it was just another reminder of what you couldn’t have. George.

“You know, I always wanted to be a Weasley.”

Fred was surprised that you had spoken to him, and even more surprised about the turn the conversation had taken.

“I grew up with you guys,” you continued, not waiting for Fred to respond. “Molly was like my second mother, even though she always liked Hermione and Harry a bit more than me.”

“Join the club,” said Fred, causing you to laugh loudly, a sound he hadn’t heard from you in ages. Godric, how he had missed it.

“It’s just…” you trailed off, not knowing if you wanted to be open with Fred, someone you hadn’t spoken to in years. Chances were, you wouldn’t keep in touch much after the wedding, so you might as well. What was there to lose? “It’s just...seeing Angelina, one of my best friends, dance around, wearing that ring, getting to be an actual Weasley. It’s...it’s making me a wee bit jealous.”

Fred watched you fidget with a bracelet on your wrist and decided to push his luck just a bit more. “And you’re wishing that it could be you wearing the ring, married to a certain Weasley gentleman?”

The shock was evident in your expression. “No, no, it’s not--I mean I never…” Sighing, you decided to come clean. “Yeah, I’ve maybe been harboring feelings for a certain twin for, oh I don’t know, my entire life. No biggie though, it’s totally fine that he never asked me out.”

The ginger beside you threw an arm around your shoulder, handing you a glass of wine in the process. “Drink. It makes everything better.”

You glared at him, but took the glass anyways, chugging it down in a few large gulps. “Another, please,” you demanded, and Fred obliged.

You started to ease into Fred’s side, as soft and comforting as you remembered it to be, before realizing exactly what it was you were doing. “Fred, can I ask you something?”

“‘Course. You can ask me anything.” The absolute last thing Fred wanted to be doing at the moment was talking about your undying love for his twin brother, at his wedding no less, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Not seeing you for so long had had a harsher effect on him than he thought, and he didn’t want to leave your side.

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind for years. The one that ate you from the inside out and kept you tossing and turning at night. The reason you had to separate yourself from your love in the first place. “Why am I not good enough?”

Your voice broke a tiny bit, but a lot less than you had been expecting. A tear did happen to slip out, and Fred quickly wiped it away, his fingertip resting on your cheek for a moment too long.

“Y/N, love, come here.” Fred pulled you into that hug he had talked about earlier, holding you closely to his chest. If he thought you were going to appreciate the gesture, he was wrong. You pushed him away softly, refusing to let any more tears fall.

“I’m serious, Fred. W-Why am I not good enough? I’ve made it clear for years and yet...nothing. And not even a simple rejection. I could’ve handled that, y’know. If I got a simple no, I could’ve handled it and moved on. But I never did, and it’s killing me. Why am I not good enough?”

It killed Fred to see you this upset, and it hurt him even more to see that the anger was directed at him and not at George. It was his brother that broke your heart after all, not him. “You are good enough!” Fred said, with enough truth and force that a little part of you believed it. “You’re, you’re too good! You’ve been by our side from the beginning and haven’t left it since. Well, we haven’t seen you in years, but that’s probably because of--”

You nodded, confirming what he thought. Your heartbreak had driven you away.

“But other than that,” he continued, “you’ve been like my third arm. Any guy would be crazy to give you up, you know that?”

A tiny smile grew on your face, but was gone as soon as it had arrived. “The timing...the timing was just all wrong, wasn’t it?” you asked.

Fred nodded, watching his brother and his wife greet guests and take pictures that were sure to be on the mantle in the burrow as soon as the wedding was over. “Yeah, I guess so. The prick should’ve asked you out sooner.”

“Oh I agree wholeheartedly, he is a prick,” you said, poking his arm, a gesture that slightly confused him. “So, I’m guessing there’s no chance of anything happening now? No sliver of hope that maybe this could work out?”

He hated that he would be the one to crush your dreams, but he couldn’t let you keep living in false hope. “Well,” he said, “the wedding bands are on and they both said ‘I do.’ Kind of hard to come back from that. I’m sorry.”

You froze, now more befuddled than you had been all night. “I...what?”

Before Fred could say anything you reached to grab his left hand, checking his ring finger for something you knew wasn’t there, but you had to be sure.

“Wedding bands? What in the world do you--” Realization hit you like a brick, and you wanted to slap yourself. Or Fred. Either one. But preferably the latter.

“Frederick, my dear love, who do you think we have been talking about this whole time?” you asked, voice genuine but also teasing.

Fred didn’t know what you all of a sudden found so amusing, but he was already doubting himself and he didn’t want you to make fun of him for whatever he had done wrong.

“Umm, well you said a Weasley, and then you said a Weasley twin. So I thought the answer was obvious.”

“Say it,” you demanded. “Who have we been talking about? Who am I in love with after years of unrequited feelings?”

He felt like he was walking into a trap, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He hesitated for a few seconds before your searing gaze forced him to answer. “George. We’re talking about my brother George.”

No sooner had his words left his mouth than your hand came up to slap his head. “You idiot! Are you serious right now?”

Fred stood flabbergasted, racking his brain for who else you could have been talking about. George was a Weasley twin. You said you were in love with a Weasley twin. Who else was there?

“It’s you, you big oaf!”

Oh. OH! There were two Weasley twins, and he was one of them. Which meant…

“You’re in love with me?!”

By this point, heads were turned to watch the scene and people were not-so-subtly whispering to their partners.

You dragged a still surprised Fred through the crowd and out of the tents, finding a secluded enough area where you could talk.

Fred’s brain had still not been caught up. “It’s me? You’re in love with me? But, but what about George?”

You furrowed your brow, wondering how Fred could have so easily mistaken your feelings for him as those for another. “What about George?”

“You’re in love with him!”

“I most definitely am not!”

“The Yule Ball!” he spat out. “You went to the Yule Ball with him when we were 16!”

“Yes,” you said calmly, “and you went with Angelina, but I don’t see you two getting married. We went as friends and I talked to him about you the entire night. In fact, most of the time when we hung out I was talking about you. Made him swear not to tell though. I was never good about expressing my feelings.”

Fred put a hand to his head, a growing throb threatening to overtake his senses. “But why were you so sad tonight? You wanted to marry George!”

“No,” you said patiently. “I was sad because Angelina and George’s relationship worked out the way I was wishing one between you and I had. They fell in love during school, dated a few years later, and now she’s a part of your family. I wasn’t wishing it was just me out there with your brother. I was wishing that it was our wedding.”

You blushed heavily and buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by your bluntness about your feelings. “Oh, Godric, I shouldn’t have said that, now it’s more awkward. I, umm, I should probably get going.”

Fred grabbed your wrist before you could leave, pulling you into his chest. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar as he gazed down at your muddled expression.

“It’s me. I’m the one you love.”

He said it as more of a declaration rather than a question, but you could tell that he needed confirmation.

“Of course, Freddie,” you said. “It’s always been you.”

His hand wasted no time in going to the back of your head, pulling your face into his and melding your lips together in your first kiss with Fred Weasley. After the shock wore off, you were hastily kissing him back, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t pull back and proclaim what a stupid mistake this all was. But he never did. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were the one who had to pull back in order to catch your breath.

It took you both a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and for the first time you both were at a loss for words. “That was, umm…” you mumbled, trying to think of what to say.

“I love you too.”

Fred’s words were rushed out of his mouth, voice deep ragged. “I mean, when you said it was me, not George, that you loved. I, well, I love you too. Always have. Guess I just thought that you had a thing for George and I had no chance. Pretty silly of me, huh?”

“Downright stupid of you,” you replied, giggling as he pushed you away with a bashful smile gracing his lips.

“So,” he said quietly, inching closer to you once again, “is there a chance of anything happening now?” Fred repeated the words you had said earlier, making you smile wider than you had all night.

“Depends,” you said. “Are you gonna get the courage to ask me out?”

Fred waited for a moment before answering. “How about,” he said, offering his arm out for you to link with yours, “we have that dance we never got at the Yule Ball. And then that date we never got after, and then that relationship we never got as well. Oh! And then that wedding, and then a dog, maybe a few kids, a big house in the country--”

“Woahhh, slow down buddy, you haven’t ever properly asked me!”

You took his arm and made your way back to where the music continued to blare and festivities raged on.

“Y/N, love, may I have this dance?”

You pushed a strand of hair from his face, ruffling it up a little to give it that signature Fred Weasley style.

“Of course, Freddie. And every dance after that.”

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

#theweasleyslut's 2k writing challenge #fredweasleyimagine #fredweasley #fred #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fredweasleyfluff #wedding #enemies to lovers

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the-siren-and-the-sailor · 3 years

Text

Tag list: @caloroso-cosmos @kissthe-gogoat Let me know if you wanted to be added or taken off!

Nadox once compared himself to Cain. I wonder now what it’d be like if they ever met. I’m gonna edit this to say that since Nadox is Sarkic, there’s gonna be mentions of gore. Mild stuff though, it’s only mentioned.

Can air become like lava’s equal?

It certainly did here. But then, it had easily tasted like bitter winter not a few weeks and several hundred leagues ago- the season’s fluidity by locale was more than typical for this eternal wanderer.

Yes, the man thought, I suppose it can. The sun was sweltering and the sand burned Cain’s feet, yet he did not falter between them. He did hope to find a town soon- he seemed to only ever stumble across one when he was most desperate. Forlorn of fresh water and conversation, Cain sighed and kept trudging.

A nearby hill obstructed vision of the continuing path in all directions, allowing a separate, similar man- one who in actuality, could not be any more different than his sunbeaten analogue- to be hidden in it’s gracious shadow.

He sat, cocooned in his cloak, not worried about anyone seeing the scroll he so plainly pulled out of his own body (he had several extra eyes grown around and about to watch for the prying ones of strangers).

Not enough, however, and he straightened upon finding that some blue-clad traveler had managed to evade him. By no means had they snuck up, but their progress was certainly noteworthy- only his serpentine little sister had ever managed that fully.

Regardless, he covertly tucked the parchment and the rest of his far-spread flesh back into a compact, human form again. Hopefully he would be ignored this way.

He was successful in replicating a mundane appearance, but was nevertheless a perfect fit for the other’s lacks.

“Hello there!” the person, a man, said with a voice that was distinctly… metallic, somehow.

Shrinking back into his coat wouldn’t work now, so he simply waved back as dismissively as he could. Of course, it was no use. But as the man approached, an odd thing became clear; it seemed at first that his skin tone differed from face to limb, but this was in fact, not skin at all. The tinny clicking of his ankles proved that.

“I was beginning to lose hope of finding my way, but it seems the gods have been merciful. You wouldn’t happen to have a map, would you? I’m afraid I may have lost my way.”

Gods, plural? Perhaps the assumption that this was just another Mekhanite was incorrect. What a strange occurrence. The cloaked sage shook his head. He did possess one, but would rather not be forced to speak, let alone quite literally spit it out.

“Oh that’s unfortunate,” he paused for a moment, a finger sheathed in leather curved to his chin in thought. The loose sleeves of his tunic fell around his elbows. If he was trying to cover up his metal parts, he was doing an extraordinarily terrible job.

“Well, you must’ve gotten here somehow. Do you know where the nearest dwelling is?” From Cain’s perspective, this fellow was being more than slightly suspicious, and he was curious to draw the conversation out.

The cloaked man simply pointed down the path. Cain was about to give up and be on his way, when a thought seemed to occur to the other, and he reached to his side. It struck Cain that he had not yet seen the man’s face.

He faced back a moment more, this time producing a parchment and quill (from where?), and simply wrote on it, Forgive me, I cannot speak. Turning his head, it appeared that his mouth was coarsely sewn shut with thread.

“I’m terribly sorry. If I have been a bother at all-” but the mute shook his head, returning to the writing, coming back with a, Who are you?

And he meant the question. What was someone like this doing out, alone, in the hot desert? He had a hunch, but-

“My name is Cain, I come from far away. You seem to as well. And who might you be, if I may ask?”

Cain? Certainly not that Cain. Well, it made some semblance of sense. But in that case…

Certainly you know already, he wrote.

This only served to confuse Cain. He didn’t- should he have? Oh, if he should’ve, it would’ve come across as so very rude.

“I hate to say it, but I do not. Could you perhaps elaborate?”

I fear I would frighten you away with the only method I have for a voice.

“I’ve had conversations in strange ways before. Whatever it is, I’ll understand.”

Instead of responding by text, the man stood to his full height, several inches taller than Cain, and motioned for them to walk. Cain, still confused, obliged.

After only a few paces, the gaunt man turned his head, still in step, divulging his brilliant orange eyes. A voice, silvery yet brittle, rang through his mind. “I am Klavigar Nadox. Perhaps you recognize me now?”

Cain stumbled and gulped. Oh, just his luck that his only company was a Sarkic saint! “Oh my, I do. I mean you no harm, I swear! I was travelling to visit my cousin, I only met you by accident-”

“I heard stories of you as a child. Perhaps you even inspired me, in a way. Are you truly the son of Adam? King of Canaan, the Reassembled One?”

Cain stared at Nadox, a mixture of expressions along the lines of confused fear on his face. The henchman of Ion himself, simply… talking?

“I don’t understand. Am I not your enemy?” Cain paused, trailing off and warily eyeing the other.

“You tell me.”

“…”

Well, this was awkward. Nadox, while wanting to know more about Cain, was really just as scared of him as he was of him. Derdekeas had been formidable, and he was just a man- this, on the other hand, was no less than a demigod.

“Do I have to be?” Came Cain’s response. Ah, there it was. A note of distinctly regal conviction.

Cain’s mind was, in all honesty, made up before they met- for he had also heard stories of Nadox. The Flesh was not the be all, end all of evil, nor was Bronze designed to be its foe. This was not a confrontation: it was a learning opportunity.

“I don’t suppose you are, then. If this is true, then I am not yours.” He really wasn’t. It was rare to cross an immortal’s path, why mire the chance with old tired conflict of broken and dying gods? Surely Ion could not be upset with this bid for knowledge, upon his return.

“Well then. Would you care to walk with me? I’m sure I am as curious of you as you are of me.”

“I am, and I would.”

Yes, this was a shining arrangement. The only problem was…

“A moment. Does this restless wanderer’s feet always know where to take him?”

“They don’t usually do an especially decent job, no.”

“I’ll give you a map if you promise to remain level-headed despite its whereabouts.”

Cain’s nod quickly turned to gagging upon the sight of the paper’s… method of containment. Was this how all shepherds of the flesh kept their documents? It begged many questions that the metal man did not particularly want answers to.

But then, Nadox had bristled later on, when Cain unlocked a compartment in the metal of his leg to retrieve a quill and compass.

Clearly, they each had much to learn.

#scp 073 #klavigar nadox #writing #my writing #scp-073 #scp cain #nadox #📝 Written in the History Books 📜#sarkic #sarkicism #mekhanite #mekhanism #let’s face it i’m in love with both of them

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imagine-darksiders · 3 years

Note

I hope you feel better soon! When you're feeling better would you be able to write something about jealous Strife? That ask made me curious

“Do you really have to go?”

From your seat at the vanity, you heave an exasperated sigh and set down your lipstick, swivelling around in the chair to face the Horseman who stands sulking at your bedroom door.

“Strife,” you begin patiently, “I'm afraid my answer still hasn't changed since you asked me ten minutes ago.”

“Yeah, I know. It's just -” Averting his gaze, he crosses his arms and grumbles, “I thought we were gonna hang out tonight.”

“And I told you two weeks ago that I wouldn't be around tonight.”

You can't see his expression, hidden as it is behind the silver helm he wears, but you're fairly confident in guessing that there's a pout on his lips.

“And besides,” you add, “We hang out all the time. You practically live here. Hell, you've already turned my spare bedroom into your own personal den.”

'Den' is an understatement. Your spare room is now less of a bedroom more of an Earth museum, filled from floor to ceiling with all of the things that Strife has picked up simply because they took his fancy. For the most part, it's all junk. There's an obsolete gaming console that no longer works, a skateboard, a horse figurine made of glass, no less than three Nerf guns and not a foam dart between them...

Honestly, you're loathe to tell him to get rid of any of it, though you fear you might have to soon if you don't want the mess spilling out into the rest of your house.

Giving your head an exasperated shake, you check the time on your phone and stand up, throwing your bag over a shoulder. “Listen, it's just one evening with an old friend who I haven't seen since before the apocalypse. We can hang out tomorrow, I promise. But now, I really need to dash, he'll be here to pick me up any minute.”

Pausing to stuff your phone into the pocket of your trousers, you head towards the door, hardly noticing that the Horseman is still standing in front of it with his arms folded neatly across a broad, armoured chest. It's only because you glance up right at the last second that you manage to avoid a painful collision. “Um...Strife?” you ask, halting in your tracks, “... Move?”

In response, he simply leans back against your door and begins to inspect the claws on one of his gauntlets. “Nah... I'd rather hear about this friend of yours. You've never mentioned him.” Pausing, he shoots you a sly smirk that you can sense more than see, his golden eyes flashing, “You guys close?”

With a roll of your eyes, you mimic his posture, crossing your arms and giving him a glare that would make Death proud. “Strife, what's gotten into you? I just said I'm going to be late for my friend.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he returns coolly, “Just wanna know that my friend isn't walking into a trap.”

“Oh wow – a trap? Really? Of all the-” You cut yourself off and raise a hand, massaging at your temple. “Okay. Now you're just being ridiculous. It's not a trap.”

“Why don't you let me come with you, just in case?”

“Because!” you cry, throwing your arms up, “It'll be awkward! You remember what I taught you about third-wheeling?”

He remembers it well, in fact. Just like he remembers everything you teach him, committing the moments to memories that he'll carry with him until the day he snuffs it. He only has you for less than a hundred years, after all, and he's determined to remember every last bit of it. The Universe must have thought itself pretty hilarious when it placed you in his life. Of all the creatures in all the realms, the one he ends up caring about most just so happens to be the one with the shortest lifespan. It makes him want to hunt down the Creator and shoot a hole where a heart might be.

Shoving down his contempt for the omnipotent bastard, Strife returns his attention to you and lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “I don't mind tagging along. You know, just in case I have to watch your back.”

Your response hits him harder than a crack from Fury's whip. “I don't need you to watch my back every second of every day! Stop being so paranoid.”

The Horseman is too proud and obstinate to ever let the stab of hurt show in his eyes, but he can't ignore its presence in his chest.

He is not being paranoid... He's being a good friend - watching your back, looking out for you, all the things a friend is supposed to do. Not that he's had much experience being friends with a human. Or anyone, for that matter, who isn't a horse or his siblings. It's been a learning curve for both of you, though more-so for him, and so far, the most prominent challenge he's faced is balancing the line between being a friend and being an overprotective nuisance.

It perhaps hasn't helped that, ever since humanity was resurrected, the pair of you have been nigh inseparable. He's grown used to your presence – is dependant upon in, according to Death; a fact that Strife had vehemently tried to deny, at least until he learned that you'd made plans. Plans with someone else. Plans that didn't involve him.

It was only once he'd taken some time to reflect and found that he had indeed been glued to your side for months, that he realised the awful truth.

His older brother was right, after all. The smug ass.

A shudder rolls over the Horseman's body and he blinks, realising that in the few seconds he's been lost in thought, you've managed to reach around him to push open your bedroom door.

“Hey!” he complains as you all but shove past, and he – being the soft-touch that he is – simply allows himself to be moved aside. Grumbling, he follows you across the landing and down your sweeping staircase until you reach the front door and stop beside it.

From outside, the thunderous roar of an approaching, automobile's engine thrums in his ears.

“That's him!” you chirp, and Strife hates the way your face lights up at the mention of whoever 'he' is.

Throwing open your door, you head outside and try to pull it shut behind you, yet find your efforts abruptly halted by the Horseman sticking close to your heels. He ducks through the low doorframe and moves to stand beside you, his viciously keen gaze raking over the vehicle that idles at the end of your driveway.

By his own admission, Strife has always had a weakness for those 'motor bikes' the humans like to ride, with their shiny gaskets and noisy engines. But this one – the one upon whom sits a tall, lanky human – Strife does not care for.

“Anton!” you call out, flying down the driveway, splaying your arms out wide in anticipation of a hug.

'Anton' laughs brightly and kicks down the bike's stand as he leaps from the seat, his own arms only just opening in time to receive you when you crash into him with a whoop of delight.

As soon as those long, stringy arms wrap around your shoulders, the Horseman's hackles raise like a feral beast's and the sudden presence of Anarchy begins to claw at the confines of his ribcage. For a few moments, he wrestles with himself, weighing the pros and cons of letting his most primal form take over for a while, but after envisioning the disapproving frown that's sure to adorn your face should he pull such a stunt, he bitterly shoves a reluctant Anarchy back down and settles upon prowling down the gravel drive after you, glaring hard at the stranger the entire way. Admittedly, he is a little surprised at himself for the animosity. On the whole, he's always maintained a good rapport with other humans. He likes the species, a lot. So to suddenly be filled with such a strong disliking for this particular human strikes him as odd and out of character.

Then, Anton's hands slide down to your lower back and another bout of indignant fury flares up in the Horseman's belly. After what he thinks is, quite frankly, an obscene amount of time, the stranger releases you, holding onto your shoulders and leaning back to get a better look at your face.

“God, it's good to see you, Y/n,” he drawls, eyeing you from head to toe in a way that makes the Horseman's skin crawl, “I can't believe it! You've changed so much!”

Grinning shyly up at him, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and reply, “Hopefully for the better?”

His own smile widens. “You were always at your best, even before the apocalypse. Still, being Humanity's Hero seems to be really suiting you, huh?”

At once, your expression falls and you pull a face, extracting yourself from his grasp. “Oh god, don't call me that. I've told the media till I'm blue in the face - the Horsemen are the ones who deserve to be called heroes. Oh, speaking of whom...” You turn to face the looming presence at your side and gesture up to Strife. “I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine.”

Anton's gaze leaves you long enough to flick over towards the Horseman and you watch as he does a very comical double-take, his eyes bulging for a moment before he manages to compose himself again and lifts his hand in greeting. “Hey! You must be one of those Horseman guys. Death, right?”

Noticing that the Nephilim's hands curl suddenly into tight fists, you interject, “Uh, actually, this is Strife, Tones.”

“Tones?” He really does try to keep the disdain from his voice when he switches his burning, golden glare between you and the other human. “I thought you said his name was Anton?”

How many other friends do you have?

“It's a nickname, Strife,” you reassure him quickly, “This is Anton.”

A nickname... Of course. The Horseman's stomach twists itself into a knot and he can't stop himself from blurting out, “How come you've never given me a nickname?”

The human concept surrounding abbreviated names was a fairly easy one for him to grasp when he first learned of them. They're terms of endearment, meant to signify familiarity and friendship.

He's your friend. He's familiar. Why doesn't he have a nickname too?

"Ugh, I'm sorry. We'll brainstorm nicknames when I get back," you huff, "But the restaurant will give our table away if we don't hurry. So -"

Turning to usher Anton onto the bike, you hardly manage to take one step before a large, metal hand is sliding around your forearm and tugging you gently to a halt. Biting back a groan, you glance over your shoulder, ready to scold him, but one look at his slouched stance and averted gaze stops you in your tracks.

"Uh. Hey, Tones?" you call, never taking your eyes off the Horseman's mask, "Can you give us a sec?"

The human behind you is careful to check that Strife isn't looking when he rolls his eyes and grunts in acknowledgement before he turns and saunters over to his bike, leaning up against it and pulling out his phone.

Once Anton has turned his attention elsewhere, you raise a brow at the Horseman and wait, patient, expectant. After working his jaw for a moment or two, he finally looks at you properly and tightens his grip on your arm, not until it's painful, but enough that you understand what he's trying to convey in the gesture.

He really doesn't want you to go.

"Strife?" you prod.

Reluctantly, he lets out a rough exhale.

Although he's far better at it than his siblings, watching Strife try to openly express emotion isn't unlike watching someone pull their own teeth out with a pair of pliers. The process is slow, and it's best to sit back and listen to him rather than try to encourage him to speak. So, that's what you do, and eventually, your patience is rewarded when after another few seconds of silence, he offers a strained chuckle and says, "This guy isn't my replacement, is he? I know the bike is cool, and all, but..."

"Your replacement?" you laugh, incredulous, "Strife. I don't know how it worked with Nephilim, but for humans, having another friend doesn't cancel out any existing ones."

He knows that. He's not some whelp who never learned how to share. Frustrated with himself, the Horseman huffs and turns his head to the side, glaring hard at nothing in particular.

"Hey..." An old habit kicks in, and before you can stop yourself, you reach up to trace your fingertips along the underside of Strife's helm, tipping it back towards you and smiling at the bewildered look in his yellow eyes. Confident that he's paying proper attention, you pull your hand away again and state, "I could search the whole universe from top to bottom for the next hundred, thousand years, and I'd never find a friend who could replace you, okay? So stop worrying. Your ranking as 'my best friend' is not under threat."

"M'not worrying," he grumbles, but inside, his heart is aglow with the warmth of your words. At the back of his mind, Anarchy rumbles happily. You said best!... He's your best friend? He tries to recall you ever calling him that before. Then he realises that, no, you can't have done. He wouldn't forget a moment like that. Not in a million years. Just like he won't forget how he feels right now after hearing those two words.

Oblivious to the fate you've just sealed for yourself, you clap your hands together, bringing the conversation to what you hope is an easy conclusion. "Good. In that case, will you please let me go with Anton now?"

The Horseman's mood sours almost immediately, but at least he peels his fingers off your arm.

"Hey, kid?" he address Anton, packing his voice with all the menace and threat that he can muster, "If I find out she gets hurt on your watch, I'll introduce you to a couple'a friends of mine..." His hands fall less-than subtly to his holsters, where the silver handles of Mercy and Redemption glint in the sunlight.

Anton's face pales upon seeing the Horseman's legendary pistols.

"Stop that," you scold him, smacking the back of your hand against the armoured chest plate before turning to your other friend and calling, "Come on, Tones, let's go."

Anton all but throws himself onto his bike, kicking the stand back and jamming his keys into the ignition whilst you climb on behind him, albeit far more gracefully. The man tosses you a helmet and you shove it onto your head.

Strife's eyes remain settled upon your hands that wrap snugly around Anton's waist and it takes everything in him not to grab you, haul you off the bike, drag you back to your home and lock you inside.

“I'll be back late tonight,” you call over the roar of the engine as you begin to pull away, “There's food in the fridge if you want to eat! And my Netflix is still logged in! I'll see you later, okay!?”

Strife doesn't respond, not because he can't think of what to say, but because there would be no point. Anton has already peeled away and pushed the bike to a reckless speed. All the Horseman can do is stand there at the end of your driveway, his shoulders drooping dejectedly.

After you're nothing more than a dot on the far horizon, he tears his eyes off you and lets them fall to the tarmac near his boots.

He never notices you looking back.

#darksiders #darksiders genesis #Strife #reader #jealousy

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alexaplaysgames · 3 years

Text

Have Mercy on Me

Pairing: Felix Escellun x GN!MC

Fandom: Fictif (Last Legacy)

Rating: M (swearing, mild sexual content)

Words: ~ 1500

Description: Felix and his barista are a bit less than careful when it comes to concealing their midnight make out sess.

Notes: So Sage suspects that Felix and MC are a thing, but he doesn’t know that they are. Or he didn’t prior to this fic. The last of my Felix writing spree! I’m moving on to some Asra next.

Tags: @margitartist @demon-paradise @themohawkhelmet @cactus-hoodie @aomiyeon @piningmaybeanartist @another-confused-gay

When I imagined travelling with the legendary Starsworn, sitting in the parlour of a run-down inn and getting wasted wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

Sage grabs a bottle from the table at his feet and takes a hearty swig.

“Even this is failing to entertain me now,” he says, cracking his back as he stands, “I’m going to go pass out.”

“Will you kill me if I call it a cat nap?” I singsong.

Safe glares at me in reply, ears pinned flat against his head. “Do you want to find out?”

I opt to stay quiet as he turns towards the stairs that lead to our rented rooms.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night as well,” Anisa hums, her green eyes glittering in the firelight. “Goodnight, you two!”

Felix and I sit silently as the sound of creaking wood accompanying footsteps retreats up the stairs.

As soon as the parlour is silent, he turns to me, smirking.

“Ah, to be free of Sage’s incessant pestering.”

I too am rather glad to be alone with him. With all that’s gone on lately, I’ve barely had Felix to myself at all these last few days.

The cracking of the fire is soothing, the silence between us strangely comfortable. It’s rather odd, considering Felix isn’t one for quiet contemplation, and it’s very rare that any situation he’s involved in remains free of awkwardness.

I’m distracted from my thoughts as Felix glances down at our hands, still close together being that we have yet to seperate from our previously crowded position on the sofa.

Once again, I feel myself wishing that he would just ask for things when he wanted them, like he so obviously wants to hold my hand now. Am I doing something wrong? Is this some consequence of his relationship with Rime? I know almost nothing about that, I don’t really want to, but if that deer-man did anything to hurt Felix, I guarantee I’ll snap his antlers like Pixy Stix.

Then again, perhaps some of the hurting was consensual. He did have some choice comments about their sexual relationship that I’ve really been trying to forget. Yikes. I can’t imagine the Felix I know in a relationship anything like that.

He’s too precious... too soft. I feel like getting rough with him would break him, shattering his beauty to shards, like stained glass.

But I wouldn’t mind if he were a bit more forward with me.

“Do you want to hold my hand, Felix?”

He starts, then blushes as he meets my gaze. Felix nods, his expression turning resolute as he slowly reaches for my hand, then intertwines my fingers with his.

I reach to delicately tilt his chin up with the index finger of my free hand.

“I do like you, you know,” I tease, but the words still carry meaning. “You don’t have to be so hesitant.”

“O-okay. I know that, I do. It’s just... difficult,” he scoffs, a frustrated sound deep in his throat. His voice goes soft as he continues, “I haven’t- I haven’t done this since...”

“I know.” He doesn’t need to say Rime’s name for me to know who this is about.

I smile, sultry turning soft, then focus my attention back on the fireplace as Felix lays his head on my shoulder with a soft sigh. Progress. His hair tickles my chin, but I don’t really mind. He smells... nice. Like... well, he actually kind of smells like sage. Sage the plant, not the person. Felix would certainly take offence to the latter. I snicker under my breath just thinking of his reaction if I told him so.

I suddenly shiver as Felix turns his face into my neck, trying to stay still. He’s not a huge fan of casual physical contact, and I don’t want to scare him away. He’s kinda like a pet, a cat, in that any time he gets close I stay shock still in hopes that he won’t run off. He’s like a cat in many ways, actually. Grumpy, recluse, adorable. Another description he would despise, knowing his hatred for Stella. I purse my lips to keep from giggling. Man, if only everyone knew how hilarious I really am.

“You realize,” Felix hums, the vibrations creating goosebumps across my skin. “We are completely alone.”

My amusement fades in an instant, my features stretching into a seductive grin.

“Oh? And what, Felix, oh dignified and talented mage, are you suggesting?”

I can almost feel his face heat from where it’s pressed against the soft skin of my neck.

He sighs, then mumbles, “I beg you not to tease me so. We can’t all be as lascivious as Sage, my dear.”

“Felix,” I tease, despite his request, “are you asking for a kiss?”

He pulls away, face flushed red, biting his lip as he refuses to meet my gaze.

“No.” The answer is obviously yes, and although his pout is adorable, he sounds like a stubborn, petulant child.

I place my hands on both of his cheeks, forcing him to meet my gaze.

“Good. Because you don’t need to ask. If you want to kiss me Felix, go ahead.”

It’s a bold challenge. Never does Felix initiate such things, but I want him to. I want him to want to.

He blinks. Then, slowly, tentatively, he shifts closer to me, the sofa creaks beneath him, and I feel the cushions sink as he leans towards me. His breath fans across my face as he gets impossible closer, his eyelashes fluttering against my cheeks.

It’s in moments like these that it truly hits me: how incredibly intoxicating Felix is. I don’t think I could refuse him if I wanted to; my heart yearns to be swept up in the vortex of his stormy eyes, to drown in a sea as black as his fingernails or as red as his bitten lips.

I can just barely feel the brush of his lips against mine, leaving my breath stuttering in my throat. It’s nice- the closeness, the stillness. Intimate even, with our foreheads pressed together and our mouths just barely touching. I could stay like this with him forever.

Then our lips slide together in a familiar, passionate dance, slow and sensual and utterly delicious. I instinctively move my hands to tangle in his hair, pulling just the way I know he likes, while Felix surprises me by moving one hand to cup my face, the other to skim my thigh, and kissing me back hard, hard enough to make me feel like the breath that fills his lungs, and I struggle to refrain from smiling against the softness of his lips.

I pull away, trying not to notice his bereft, breathy little exhale, just long enough to quirk a brow before I place my hands on his chest and push him back into the sofa, chuckling at the noise of shock that he makes.

And while I love to have him near me, holding me, this is where I like Felix best. Pinned under me as I straddle his waist, wide, silvery eyes reflecting the dying firelight.

I lean over him, tantalizing, teasing, trace a path with my tongue from his collarbone to the shell of his ear, then finish by biting down on his earlobe, rolling the stud he wears in his ear with the tip of my tongue.

Felix gasps, hips involuntarily pressing upwards and against mine, a breathy whine building in his throat. I catch his wrists and pin them above his head, leaning back to admire the mess I’ve made of him.

“So pretty,” I murmur, twirling a strand of his hair with my free hand.

“You are quite,” his voice shakes with his ragged exhale, “resplendent yourself.”

I snort, hum, then lean forward to capture his mouth in a sinful, open-mouth kiss, grinding against him once more in a way that has us both panting into each other’s mouths. I’m not sure how long we stay tangled up like that, rocking together, never parting for longer than it takes to catch a breath.

His skin is surprisingly warm to the touch when my fingers flit under the fabric of his shirt, dipping over the soft give of his stomach, a gentle, exploratory touch I can feel mirrored by Felix’s hands on the bare skin of my arms.

I’m just about to suggest we take this somewhere more private when I’m interrupted by a choking noise. A sound not unlike that of a cat, yakking on a hairball.

Felix and I hastily spring apart, and my gaze is immediately drawn to a tall, white-haired figure standing at the base of the stairs.

“Holy fuck.” Sage whispers, his expression a mix of amusement, awe, and confusion. His eyes dart between the look of sheer mortification that paints my features and Felix’s disheveled appearance and half-open shirt.

Shit.

Felix flops back down, burying his burning red face in a pillow.

“Not now, Sage.”

Sage only smirks. “Interrupted something, did I? By all means, don’t stop on my accord. I’m all for watching, or joining. If you’re into that sorta thing.”

I can only manage to stare, slack-jawed. Is he really suggesting...?

“So,” Sage clears his throat, causing Felix to groan at the realization that he has not yet left. “You two really are-“

I nod.

“No,” he grimaces.

“Yes,” I deadpan.

“No,” he repeats, louder, frantic. “I cannot live in a world in which Felix has game. First Rime, now you? Are you sure you’re the one who got teleported to another dimension?”

“That’s not exactly what-“ Felix finally huffs as he raises his head, glaring.

“Whatever, man. This is some fucked up shit. Majorly fucked up, that’s what I say.” Sage crosses the room, retrieving a dagger from the nearby armchair and twirling it dangerously in his leather-clad grip (I assume this is the reason he came back into the parlour at all).

He makes to move up the stairs, but pauses, throwing me a grin over his shoulder, accompanied by a waggle of his eyebrows.

“But if you ever wanna get a taste of the wild side...”

“Sage!” Felix exclaims, eyes flashing a dangerous green, but the former only snickers.

“Goodnight, horny children. Try to keep the noise level to a minimum, if ya know what I mean.”

I have to slap my hand over Felix’s mouth to stifle his angry retort.

This is going to be a long few days.

#Felix Escellun #Felix Iskandar Escellun #Felix x mc #interactive game #interactive fiction #visual novel #Last Legacy Fanfiction #Fictif #Fictif Last Legacy #Last Legacy #last legacy Felix

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radiorenjun · 3 years

Text

I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Warnings: mental breakdowns, heartbreak, rejection, major angst, arguments, flashbacks, physical injuries, fighting, underaged drinking, panic attacks, mentions of death, slight mentions of druGS?, terribly written i dont rlly like this chapt.

• Wordcount : 6.1 k

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: XIII, XIV

Life had many pros and cons, but people always preferred to see the bright side of it. As they say one of the best feelings in the world was the feeling you get when you found your soulmate, your other half. You had heard a countless amount of stories about it in your youth. Mainly from your grandmother. But sadly, you were one of the unfortunate souls who couldn’t experience the feeling for too long.

Your sixteenth birthday was supposed to be filled with joy and excitement. But the moment you saw the ink starting to form on your wrist as soon as you blew your candles caused your heart to weigh down in your chest. At that moment, you remembered the feeling of shock and slight disappointment when you realised you had the same soulmate tattoo as Jaemin.

You remembered standing still in the middle of the room, surrounded by your friends and family who eagerly surrounded you to see your new soulmate tattoo as you entered a midlife crisis on the spot. How your mind turned messy with thoughts as your anxiety got the best of you.

‘My tattoo is the same as Jaemin’s. Jaemin is my soulmate?’

‘Oh god, but he doesn’t want to have a soulmate chosen for him. He wants to find his own love and experience the feeling of slowly falling for someone, I can’t possibly take that wish away from him, right?’

‘I’m his best friend, for pete’s sakes! He’s never going to treat me or look at me the same way again.’

‘This is really ironic. Grandma, you really got what you wanted, huh?’

The whole situation was almost laughable to you. Oh how your grandmother would probably be doing somersaults in her place if she was here to witness this miracle. But alas, that moment you just wanted to turn into stone on the spot. You wanted time to stop. You knew very well that there was a possibility that you won’t be experiencing that life changing feeling your grandmother always rambles about.

Though, you had some hope that maybe. Just maybe, Jaemin would be okay with having you as his soulmate. Maybe he would be happy to find out that his childhood best friend, the person who knows him better than his own family, was his soulmate. Maybe life would give you some mercy and decided that Jaemin would change his mind and you would end up living happily ever after.

‘Come on, he would definitely be glad to find out that someone close to him was his soulmate, right?’

‘I know him like the back of my hand, surely he would be ecstatic to see that we have the same soulmate tattoo!’

‘I’m sure of it!’

‘Grandma said that there’s nothing better than the feeling of finding your soulmate’

‘He’s your best friend, he wouldn’t be disappointed to see that you ended up as his soulmate, right?’

‘You’ll still get that feeling of happiness you’ve been longing to feel for so long, right y/n?’

Of course, you were only getting your hopes up.

When you turned to Jaemin, who was peeking over your shoulder at your wrist to see your tattoo, the look on his face was enough to push your hopes down to the floor. You honestly couldn’t decipher what he was feeling. But it definitely wasn’t anything along the lines of happiness.

‘What’s that look for, Jaem?’

‘Surprised? Definitely. Disappointment? Pretty clear. Sadness? Yep, it was there alright. Misery? Despair? Probably.’

You couldn’t show anyone your sadness though, you had to keep a bright smile until the day was over if you didn’t want to worry anyone. When Jaemin’s eyes met yours, he, too, was surprised to see your calm reaction. The sad smile you gave him was enough to silence him for the rest of the party.

It was quite painful when the rest of your friends and family decided to bombard you with questions of who you might think your soulmate could be. Not wanting to make things more awkward, you just tried your best to answer those questions without showing how upset you were with a simple shrug with Jaemin avoiding your eyes for the rest of the day.

At that moment you didn’t know how much pain you’d be in all because of your stupid soulmate mark.

One of the most hurtful things you’ve ever experienced was watching your friends and relatives find their own soulmates with the look of pure happiness stretched across their faces as you stand there with Jaemin by your side with a smile masking your faces and misery glossing over your eyes.

The one that always stuck to you was that time during Christmas.

It had been a few months since you found out you and Jaemin were soulmates and not much has changed other than your obnoxious flirting and affection towards him. Jaemin had grown less and less affectionate as time passed by. He was no longer attacking you with surprise hugs or giving you cuddles during your movie nights.

You could feel your friendship tearing apart with every step you take, it was hopeless, you didn’t know what to do. You wanted to stop before you ruin your relationship completely, you wanted to stop making things so awkward between you, you wanted everything to stop hurting. You wanted to stop feeling hurt all the time.

But at the same time, you couldn’t. You feared that once you stop, you’ll give up completely and you were scared that maybe if you stopped, you won’t have the courage to talk to Jaemin anymore. You were scared once you stopped you wouldn’t have the energy left to bare with the pain talking to him brought you. You were scared you’d give everything up.

And you were scared if it did happen, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself anymore.

They say the moments you spend with your soulmate should be one of the best moments of your life. Was the pain you felt all this time really worth it? Isn’t this kind of toxic?

Your friend, Yiren, from another town had come to visit you over the holidays to spend some quality time with you. Your parents allowed her to spend the night at yours for Christmas while her parents finished their business in some other town. At that time, you and your other friends decided to hang out at the mall, asking her to tag along so they could meet her.

Yiren was an out-going person, just like you, therefore she got along very well with most of your friends. But when Chanhee finally arrived at the garden you were supposed to meet up at, you couldn’t help but feel your heart sink when you witnessed such an endearing moment between your two friends.

“Hey guys! I’m so sorry I’m late, my brother needed help closing up the shop!” Chanhee exclaimed, waving as he ran towards you. “You loser, just be grateful you have amazing friends who were willing to buy tickets 3 hours early,” Hyunjin clicked his tongue, slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulder who let out a loud laugh.

“Whatever you say, Hwang Hyunjin.” Chanhee stuck his tongue out teasingly at the boy. “Oh! Chanhee! I got my friend from Busan to tag along with us, I just want her to have more friends here, you don’t mind right?” you asked, slumping down on your seat. “That’s cool, where is she? Actually, where are the other girls?” Chanhee nodded, cocking his head to the side to find the other girls.

“The others went to buy some drinks for us. Don’t worry I made sure to make them order something for you,” Jaemin responded, scrolling through his phone casually. “Why didn’t you join them?” Chanhee asked, turning to you. You let out a wide, nervous smile, letting out small awkward laughs. “She wanted to stick beside me,” Jaemin huffed, trying his best not to roll his eyes out of annoyance.

“Whipped, I see,” he chuckled, watching you cross your arms against your chest before giving him a teasing glare. “You’ll understand once you actually find your soulmate, Chan. I can’t expect you to understand,” you joked in a rather arrogant tone, putting a hand under your chin as you grinned cheekily at your friend.

“It’s not that he doesn’t understands, Y/n. It’s just the fact that you’re really questionable,” Jaemin mumbled under his breath, earning a glare from you. “You two really are a questionable couple,” Hyunjin commented with a laugh. “I swear, my life wouldn’t be this entertaining if it weren’t for the two of you pushing and pulling each other like some kind of weird magnet,” he added with a loud snicker.

You winced internally at his words.

“We’re here!” Nayeon exclaimed in an excited tone, hopping up to you all with plastic bags filled with drinks. “Sorry, the line was so fucking long,” Yiren chuckled, pulling out the drinks from the bag to hand them out. “Nah, it’s fine. We’re not the ones paying after all,” you teased, waving it off.

“Bitch,” Yiren spat at you jokingly, earning a small laugh from your friends. You gingerly grabbed your drink and a straw, stabbing it into the drink before sipping. “Oh! Yiren! Meet Chanhee, he just got here because of business or something,” you squeaked, gesturing to the boy whose head shot up from his drink at the mention of his name.

“What? Me?” Chanhee rambled, stabbing his straw through the lid of his drink.

“Oh, nice to meet you! I’m Yiren, I’m Y/n’s friend from Busan,” she smiled, outstretching her hand to shake his. “Nice to meet you too, I’m Chanhee,” he nodded, shaking her hand before his eyes glanced down to her wrist. His eyes widened, letting out a loud gasp which alerted all of you.

“What? What happened?” Mina exclaimed, turning her head to the couple who were staring at each other with equally flabbergasted expressions. “It’s you! Holy crap, it’s actually you!” she exclaimed, using her free hand to cup her mouth. Chanhee slowly stood up, feeling tears gathering in his eyes.

Everyone was shocked. You let out dramatic gasps, recognizing the loving expressions the two of them had on their faces. No one dared to speak as they let the knowledge sink in, feeling the atmosphere tense up for a brief moment as you watched your two friends stare admiringly and longingly at each other.

“You’re real! What the fuck, you’re real and you’re here!” Chanhee managed to choke out, admiring the tattoo on Yiren’s left wrist that mirrored his own. “Hi soulmate,” she laughed, wrapping her arms around her soulmate who wrapped her in a tight embrace.

Your friends let out loud cheers and squeals at how dramatic their meet-up was, coming forward to congratulate them nonetheless. You couldn’t hold in your excitement for your friend but you couldn’t help but clench your fist tightly by your side, a heavy feeling in your chest piling up once again.

You couldn’t help but feel envious of how happy they looked. The tears in their eyes as they embraced each other so passionately, the bright aura surrounding them. You’ve seen your friends and families do PDA with their own partners but you had never witnessed what finding your soulmate truly looked like. That is, not until now.

Reading strangers’ experiences when meeting their soulmate online was one thing but seeing it first hand in person was a beautiful sight to see. You couldn’t help but turn to Jaemin in your seat, giving him a longing look as you ignored the loud exclaims and cheers of your friend group.

Jaemin’s expression was empty, void of emotion. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking or what he was feeling. Frankly, you didn’t want to know. They say you can see your future with your soulmate if your love was powerful enough. ‘Bull crap, all I see in his eyes is irritation towards me’ you thought with a roll of your eyes.

Jaemin’s eyes met yours, his brow raising at you as if to say ‘what?’

Your eyes widened slightly, taking aback by his sudden gaze, feeling hurt at the fact that he wasn’t fazed at all at the beautiful sight bestowed upon him. The reunion of two soulmates was always something special, it was a priceless moment that they can only share between them.

You felt your enthusiasm waver when you realised you were hoping something that wasn’t going to come. You were clinging on to Jaemin once again in hopes that he would give you the happiness you craved so much from hearing your grandmother’s stories.

When you finally focused back on Jaemin’s now concerned gaze since he noticed you had spaced out and had begun snapping his fingers in front of your face to snap you out of your deep thoughts.

You couldn’t help but smile brightly at him, ignoring the jolting pain blooming in your wrist and in your chest as you stood up from your seat to join in celebration with your friends. The thought of never experiencing the same happiness they’re going to have once they find their soulmates lingering in the back of your mind.

But fortunately for you, keeping a smile stretched across your lips is what you do best.

“Hey, I’m here,” Renjun called out, walking into your door without knocking. Your parents were away for the day and your sad hours were hitting you hard that you called Renjun to help comfort you and accompany you. Renjun knew the door was always unlocked for him to enter immediately without knocking whenever you were sad.

“Thanks for coming,” you smiled weakly, nuzzling closer to your bed sheets as Renjun sat on the bed next to you, dumping a plastic bag filled with snacks right in front of you. “You better pay me back sooner or later,” he joked, pulling out two cartons of milk and handing one to you. “When I don’t feel like shit that is,” you chuckled softly, sticking the straw in the carton as you tossed him the remote.

“What do you want to watch?” he asked, adjusting his position on your pillow as he pressed through the options on your TV screen. “The Office? That drama you’ve been wanting to watch? Or-”

“I’m good with anything, Jun. I just- I’m just glad I’m not alone, right now,” you inhaled deeply, sniffling back your tears as you shook your milk carton. Renjun paused, realising you were on the brink of crying again. He clicked his tongue, his eyes darting from the TV screen to your shaking form trying to maintain calm, debating whether to leave you be or make you talk your feelings out.

“You want to talk about it?”

Renjun obviously decided to choose the latter.

You shrugged, looking down at your milk carton so hopelessly, a hurt expression flossing over your features. “I was just having those dreams again,” you gazed up to keep your tears in. You’ve been having these dreams that you were in a completely alternate universe, that you were happy again, that you were in Jaemin’s arms.

That he was looking at you the way you’ve been looking at him for the past two years.

“Were you reading those soulmate moments again before you went to bed?” he asked with a soft chuckle. You huffed, crossing your arms before sitting up straight against the headboard. “Come on! Let me dream! I might not be able to experience the happiness soulmates share when they’re with each other because I decided to ghost mine completely, but at least I can imagine!” you whined.

“It’s the only thing I can do now that I don’t have any hopes of experiencing romance or love and what not,” you mumbled almost inaudibly, sipping on your milk once again. Renjun bit his lip, knowing full well where this was going if he said the wrong thing. “Well, I-”

“It’s not fair, Renjun.”

“Huh?”

He turned to you, watching you stare at the screen which was playing a trailer of The Umbrella Academy with an expression filled with despair. “I’m stupid for getting this worked up for a boy but he’s my soulmate, I have the right to be upset right? He’s my soulmate, I want to experience the same thing others are experiencing, too. It’s not fair,” you whimpered, crossing your arms tightly against your chest.

“Why does he get to be the selfish one? I’m here getting hurt all the time for his own happiness and he’s probably out there living his best life!” you exclaimed exasperatedly, sniffling back your tears. “It’s not fair, I want to be happy too.” You whimpered, furiously wiping away your tears,

“How did we come to this? I’m human too! I want to be selfish too for once. I want to be able to play with my soulmate’s hair, give them little smooches, have cuddles and movie sessions. I want to go on dates with my soulmate too! And take those aesthetic pictures you see on Pinterest too!”

“Y/n, I-”

“He wanted to find love and experience the feeling of falling in love with someone who wasn’t chosen for him, right? Does that mean I have to watch him fall in love with someone else in front of my own eyes? Oh God, I’m so fucking stupid!” you planted your elbows on your thighs, leaning forward to rub your eyes against your palms to avoid looking into Renjun’s sympathetic ones.

“Two years. Two damn years, that’s how long I spent parading myself around like an idiot hoping that he would like me back when all I did, really, was drive him further and further away! I just thought, maybe it wasn’t those immediate soulmate bonds, you know Jun? The ones that take time and effort. But it’s been two damn years. Once again, I’m just fooling myself with something that wasn’t there! I just want it to stop hurting!”

“Y/n stop, your wrist is glowing again-”

“I was so stupid, Renjun. So, so fucking stupid. All this time I knew that I was making the both of us uncomfortable, yet I still kept on going and I still kept on pestering him even if he told me to stop. Maybe I’m the selfish one?” you felt your bottom lip quiver as your scattered mind grew messier with every passing second.

“Why did I trick myself into thinking that maybe one day he would feel the same feelings I’m feeling? I’ve always known he won’t ever love me back. So why did I create false hope? Was that selfish of me to want someone to love and someone to love me back?”

“No, y/n, you’re not selfish.”

“Renjun. My own soulmate doesn’t love me. My own fucking soulmate doesn’t love me. I’m going to be alone forever. I hate being alone. I hate it so much. I hate this so damn much,” your whole body shook harshly with every sob you let out but Renjun couldn’t help but respond with a soft, “you won’t be alone, y/n.”

“The worst part is I told myself for so long that I’ll be okay if it happens. I’ll be fine with watching him happy without me. But the more I think about it, the more selfish I felt. I don’t want to see him fall in love with someone else and be happy with someone else, Jun. I’m so stupid, Why did I ever thought I’d be okay with it when I’m clearly not okay now!”

“Y/n, no, you’re not stupid. Don’t you dare say something like that about yourself.” Renjun pulled you away from the ball you were curling into, making you lean against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your back tightly, stroking your head and rubbing your back as he tried to calm down your soft cries.

“You’re not stupid, y/n. You’re really not,” he said in the softest tone he could muster.

“Renjun. I have a soulmate who doesn’t even fucking want me. If my own soulmate doesn’t want me then who else will? You all always see how he looks at me right? He hates me, he doesn’t even like me. Not one bit.” At this point, you were trying to focus on your breathing, wiping your nose and tears away with the fabric of your shirt.

Your grip on your bedsheets tightened when your heart ached even more. Your heart was screaming and pleading in your chest, crying out for something it can’t have. And all you can do to comfort it was to cry it all out.

Renjun sat there, rubbing your back and stroking your head as he whispered soft hushes, trying to reassure you your worth as you mumbled incoherent sobs, single syllables and broken words against his shoulder. You were hurting so much that you didn’t know if you should stop crying or let it all out to satisfy the pain in your chest.

But sure enough, Renjun held you there until you couldn’t cry anymore.

“Hey, I told you, you don’t have to give me chocolates anymore. My mom’s going to kill me if I have another sore throat,” you chuckled, pulling up the thin chocolate bar from your locker. Your friend, Nayeon, turned to you with furrowed brows, eyes filled with confusion. “Excuse you, I didn’t give you any chocolates this week,” she responded, pulling out her textbook.

You let out a small ‘huh?’ at her, trying to see if she was lying. Nayeon always gave you half of her lifetime supply of chocolates that she always receives from her soulmate because she wanted to go on a diet and she didn’t want to waste the delicious treats. “He found out I was on a diet and stopped giving me chocolates for the time being. Also, it’s my cheat day today!” she exclaimed, pulling out a chocolate bar similar to yours from her pocket.

“So no chocolates for you,” she waved the chocolate bar in your face jokingly, causing you to chuckle. “Well okay, Nayeon. But if you didn’t give me the chocolate, then who did?” you asked, furrowing your brows at the treat in your hand. “Dumbass, there’s a note behind it,” Nayeon reached over and flipped the candy over, revealing a small yellow sticky note attached to it.

‘I hope you have a great day!

- you know who’

The handwriting gave it away. It was way too obvious, you’ve seen that handwriting more than you could count. There was no doubt in your mind that this was indeed Jaemin’s handwriting. You chuckled when your mind recalled the time Jaemin kept giving you chocolate bars from his mother’s private stock whenever you were upset back when you were still kids. But how could he still remember your favorite chocolate brand? It was quite sweet but unexpected at the same time.

“’I hope you have a great day’, that’s so bland. Sounds like something moms would write on a piece of paper in their kid’s lunch boxes,” your friend commented with a small snicker, pointing at the note attached to the chocolate bar. “This sounds like some weird stalker-ish movie prompt,” she added with a teasing tone, nudging your shoulder. You forced out a small laugh to hide your discomfort.

“Do you really have to say it like that, though? I’d say this might just be someone’s weird prank?” you raised your brow, trying not to give away the fact that you know full well who this chocolate bar is from. “Come on, aren’t you suppose to be the prankster in this situation, y/n?” she giggled, waving her hand off to say she was joking.

“Nonetheless-Ooh! An admirer! Sadly, you’re too whipped for Jaemin to give this fellow a chance,” Nayeon gushed, snatching the chocolate bar out of your palms to inspect the note even further. “It even says ‘you know who’. I’m fully convinced that a Potterhead wrote this, I mean, it’s cute. But do they really have to include ‘you know who’? This isn’t Harry Potter, they ain’t Voldemort,” Nayeon rambled, causing you to giggle in response.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, suppressing the heavy feeling inside of your chest. Nayeon giggled, smacking your shoulder gently as she handed you the chocolate bar back. “I’m just kidding you! So, do you know this supposed admirer?” she asked with a small hum, oblivious to the sadness that had glossed over your pupils.

“Yeah, definitely.” You replied shortly, kissing your lips as you nodded. Her head shot up at you, eyes widening in surprise. “Oh! So are you going to do anything about it? I mean, you found your soulmate already as far as I know but are you going to do anything?” she asked, cocking her head to the side a bit in wonder. You sighed, putting the chocolate in the pocket of your backpack before shaking your head with a small smile.

“No, I’m not,” you replied, walking alongside her to your next class. “I don’t really want to think about it too much, I mean, it’s just a bar of chocolate, right?”

‘The ones I used to receive from him back when we were still in middle school that is,’ you thought with a heavy heart. You clenched your fists by your side, mustering up the energy you have in your system to put on your usual bright smile. “Anyways, what were you saying about Mr Seong earlier?”

When you said you didn’t want to think about it too much, obviously you were lying and you thought about it way too much all throughout math class till lunch. As you were doing the assignment your teacher gave you, you couldn’t help but remember the kiss you two shared at the party. Your chest fluttered at the seemingly distant memory

You paused, putting your pen down next to your notebook, propping your elbows on the table before rubbing your face in distress, the tips of your fingers coming up to rub your temples with a heavy sigh. ‘God, I need a damn vacation after all this,’ you thought, putting your arms down as you continued on with your work.

‘The tables really have turned, huh?’

You glanced at the small sticky note attached to the chocolate bar which was now hidden in your pencil case. You let out a silent chuckle, flipping your pen in between your fingers as you stare down at your paper. ‘It hurts,’ you thought, taking a small glimpse at your left wrist. The white bandage that wrapped around your wrist peeking out under the fabric of your sweater.

‘It hurt,’ you bit your lip, darting your eyes back at your paper filled with equations. As you started to continue with your work, your mind wandered to the weekend after the party.

You remembered waking up early in the comforts of your own bed sheets, still in the clothes you wore the night before. Your headache causes you to groan against your pillows when you felt like vomiting your stomach out. Apparently, Renjun had magically snuck you in your own home in the middle of the night by using the spare key you had in your pocket.

How he managed to sneak into your house and get into your room and out without waking your parents was a whole mystery to you. But you couldn’t care less when the events of the previous night overwhelmed your thoughts, resulting in you having a mini mental breakdown in your bathroom when you decided to take a shower.

You and Jaemin kissed! You and Jaemin fucking kissed!

What the actual fuck?!

At the time, you couldn’t help but touch your own lips with the tips of your fingers, giggling softly at the fond memory, feeling butterflies swarm your stomach. Collapsing on the mattress of your bed, snuggling against the pillows as you couldn’t hide the giddy feeling spilling from inside of you. But your little giggle session didn’t last long when your mind finally remembered the full events.

You had a mental breakdown- no, you had a whole panic attack in front of your own soulmate. Jaemin just did what any other male protagonist in a cliche romance movie would do, which was kiss their love interest. You are his soulmate after all. They say one of the most comforting things in the world will always be the first kiss you ever shared with your soulmate.

They say a lot of things, if you think about it.

What if Jaemin knew that and kissed you just to make you feel better? What if he did it out of pure sympathy? Jaemin was someone who would do anything to make someone’s pain go away, even if he had to share the pain to take it away. You sighed at the thought, remembering how he snapped at you at the dinner party. Or did he just kiss you because you appeared too pathetic in front of him?

‘I forgot, he’d gladly do anything for the people he loved. I’ll never be in that category. Not anymore,’ you thought to yourself bitterly as you hugged your pillow to your chest.

But then again, why did he kiss you? He was the one who initiated the kiss, right?

Right?

‘Stop trying to give yourself hope, unless you want to get hurt again you might as well go back to being a simp’

You snapped out of your thoughts with a click of your tongue, chuckling to yourself. ‘God dammit, y/n, you’re out of the soulmate game now. The universe really said ‘you’re never going to be happy with your soulmate, ever!’ in the most dramatical way possible. You have fallen out of God’s favor a long long time ago.’

You shook your head in disappointment before adverting your eyes back down to finish your paper.

‘You were dreaming too far.’

“Alright class. For those who haven’t finished their work, you can do them at home and give them to my next week,” your teacher announced as he puts his papers in between the pages of his book. The class groaned, the sounds of chairs grinding against the tile floor pierced your hearing as people started packing up their things.

You rubbed your eyes in distress, putting your paper in between the pages of your textbook, shoving it straight in your bag carelessly and walking out of the classroom with a heavy sigh. Gripping the saddle of your bag with one hand and the chocolate bar in your other as you make your way to the cafeteria.

As you entered the crowded place, you spotted a few of your friends sitting at a table nearby at the corner of your eye. Sending them a smile and a small wave you turned your head to scan the room in an attempt to find the table Jaemin was sitting at.

You quickly walked to his table, feeling your heartbeat quicken in your chest with every step you take. Jeno was the first one who caught you walking towards their table as Jaemin had his back turned to you. Raising his brow in confusion as you waved at him with a sheepish smile.

“Jaemin, is that-”

When Jaemin turned around, his eyes widened to see you standing right in front of him that he almost choked on his cookie. “Hey, uh-” you spoke, taking a breath to calm your nerves before placing the chocolate bar right beside him. “I don’t want to be rude or anything but I just want to return this,” you smiled, trying to ignore the eyes of his teammates boring holes into your figure.

“I’ll see you guys around, I guess,” you shrugged, turning around and whipping your phone out to advert your mind as you exited the cafeteria. You knew Jaemin was going to chase after you when you heard the sound of his friends calling his name which caused you to walk faster to the exit, jogging when you finally got out of the cafeteria.

“Y/n!” Jaemin called out, running after you.

You sighed, stopping in your step before turning to him with an exhausted expression. “What is it, Jaemin?” you asked, exhaustion lacing your tone. You haven’t spoken to him since that night at the party and you’ve been avoiding him like the plague since then. And frankly, you really don’t want to talk to him about it.

“This is yours,” Jaemin said, his breathing hitched as he outstretched his hand towards you to hand you back the chocolate. “No, Jaemin. I really don’t want to,” you shook your head, a frown stretched across your lips. “It’s a present, is it not? You have to accept it,” Jaemin raised his brow at you, attempting to take your hand but you quickly jerked it back to your side.

Jaemin couldn’t help but wince at the small action. “Y/n, you said it yourself once, right? ‘You can’t reject a gift from someone else, that’s rude and unappreciative’” He quoted, causing your eyes to widen slightly. “Jaemin, you know very well I only said that to make you accept my gifts,” you frowned, wincing at how hypocritical you sounded.

But still, he did not just use the same tactic you used back when you were still bugging him. Not when he whined and complained so much to his friends whenever you weren’t around afterwards.

“I still have the right to refuse your gift, Jaemin,” you frowned, slipping your hand in your pockets. He sighed exasperatedly, “fine, can we at least talk? About that night at the party? Please?” he pleaded, sending you his irresistible puppy eyes in an attempt to get you to say yes.

You bit your lip, feeling your heartbeat increase at the action, butterflies swarming your stomach as you feel yourself turn into mush under his eyes. But alas, your mind couldn’t help but have flashbacks to the party. The heavy feeling in your chest that made it hard to breathe. The burning in your wrist that made you want to chop your own arm off.

Everything that happened between you two was nothing but a mess.

In your eyes, there was nothing else to talk about. It is best if you two go your separate ways, right?

“There’s literally nothing to talk about, Jaemin,” you deadpanned, gripping the saddle of your bag tightly to keep your emotions intact when you feel a lump starting to build up in your throat. “I don’t understand why you want to talk about this so much,” you sighed, shaking your head as you ran a hand through your hair.

“If you have nothing to say, it’s fine. Then just let me talk,” Jaemin sighed, running a hand through his hair in distress. “Just hear me out, okay?” he said in an almost pleading tone, his lips forming a pout as his puppy eyes bore into yours. You took this chance to examine his features.

As creepy as it sounds, you missed seeing his face. He looks tired. So tired. Dark bags under his eyes, his pink lips forming a small pout as he waited for your response. You furrowed your brows, biting the inside of your cheek for letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding back.

“I really don’t have time for this. I just came to give you back your chocolate, “ you lied through your teeth. If you didn’t have time, then why did you decide to give him back the chocolate when you have been avoiding him? Maybe deep down, you just want to see him again? Maybe you just wanted an excuse to talk to him?

You didn’t know yourself. Why were you talking to him knowing full well it’s just going to bring you pain again?

You gave him a small, weak smile. “I need to go Jaemin. The bell’s about to ring soon and I need to get my notes from Renjun before Chemistry,” you sighed, biting your tongue to keep yourself from saying anything else that would make the atmosphere more tense than it already was.

“I’ll see you around.”

You missed him, but you also want it to stop hurting.

A/N: this was a really shitty chapter. But i felt guilty for not posting so here’s like a short ass chapter I wrote in like the four hours of free time I had in the past two days. So forgive me this is rlly bad lmfao. BUT HEY FINALLY A CHAPTER WITH Y/NS POV! yeah back to Jaemin’s pov when the next chapter comes out. My exams should be ending soon so I might or might not post somewhere next week idfk man

ANYWAYS

T A G L I S T : @candiednickles @itlittlefangirl @cherrym4rk @gotoartistprofile @d-nghyck @kingjvngins @aconeptun @chaeshii @lixseu @morks-watermelon @12am-musings @cherrystay @lowkeyviv @btm-taeyong @gothmingguk @luvlyjaemin @cowward @smileyyuta @cakelyn @uncovermenow666 @comically-sleep-deprived @wtfhaechan @xcherrybbyx @wishing–butterfly @wordsgodeep @seeing-dreams @sweetmoonlight9 @chwenchew @stuckwithhyuck @yunoelea @angelrenjunie @dae-chan @jenseoull @marklexleaf

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jwritesandrambles · 3 years

Text

“Supposed to Be”

Hi there! Yeah I still barely use tumblr but hey lookit I did the wrote thing down!!!!

I would like to give a bit thank you to @schweeeppess and @dragonsworn05 for editing my messy dyslexic rambles. @noroomforcream and @just-a-little-in-over-my-head did some really cool art for this!

(if I missed tagging someone, it’s not personal I appreciate you so much, I’m just posting in a rush mwauh)

Jason was back in Gotham. For the second time since he died, actually.

The last time hadn’t gone well. Technically, it had gone according to plan--for the most part--but Jason was still shambling together the broken pieces of his mind. Back then in December, all that was left of Jason were the shards of hurt and anger. He had been living for nothing but the idea of someone else’s death. Coming back to the real world, away from the sheltered and hidden places of the League of Shadows and the All-Caste, seemed to bring a bit of him back. Seeing Bruce, talking to him…everything that went down, and the reminder that he cared about him--loved him, even--it woke something up in Jason. Something that he thought had died along with him and never came back.

He had spent a year by himself, taking any mercenary jobs he could get, trying to find something other than the all consuming anger that had fuelled him for the past few years, but his travels didn’t matter now, as he stood in a back alley of Gotham, the protective red helmet tucked under his arm. He wished his replacement, Tim Drake, hadn’t chosen this particular alley to meet up in.

The balcony and rickety old fire escape were unforgettable to Jason. It was where he had met the Bat, after trying to jack the tires off one of those many damn expensive cars that Bruce had. Not only where it began, but where he once thought it would end. It was only a year ago he had stood, gun trained on Bruce, the man he had, for a time, called father. His voice shook and tears rolled down his cheeks, “it would be so easy to kill you.”

Jason was ripped from his reminiscing as a soft thud signaled that Red Robin had landed behind him. Jason flinched more than he’d like to admit, but fought the urge to draw his weapon. Quick reflexes was a nice way of saying jumpy.

“Hood,” The teen greeted.

“Replacement,” Jason said with a nod, echoing Tim’s tone back at him, relaxing.

“Weren’t you a replacement too?” Tim pointed out, seeming to take no offence.

Jason shrugged, “True. I’m not denying it. Just as long as you know that’s probably what B expects. Another Grayson,” he mumbled.

Sure, he was less angry than before, but that didn’t mean Jason wasn’t a bitter son of a bitch.

Tim bit the inside of his lip, an awkward and slightly uncomfortable look on the visible part of his face. It flickered away and was replaced with a more professional, neutral expression as he cleared his throat.

“Yes... well... We’re here for a job so let’s focus. You got all the information B sent you?” He was honestly trying his best, but he was hesitant about this mission. Could anyone blame him? Jason Todd had proven himself to be... volatile. The memories of Jason’s violence were all too fresh in Tim’s mind.

“Yeah, I got it. I read the file over,” he mumbled. He puffed out a weak breath, “Scarecrow set up a chemical mixing shop by the docks, at least one shipment has come in, but we can expect more, right? Anything I missed?” Jason asked, rummaging through his coat pockets.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He had been trying to quit, but he didn’t want to be getting distracted with cravings while trying to focus on the mission.

Tim watched him quietly as he lit off, smelling the tobacco from up on his perch.

“Um... yes, that’s all,” the teen dragged his teeth along the edge of his lip. The skin felt slightly raw and sore from his empty minded nibbling.

Jason started walking off down the alley, leaving a slight trail of lingering smoke in damp air. Tim followed.

“So,” Jason pulled the cigarette from his lips, careful not to let his helmet slip from under his arm. He held it between his first and second fingers, “Uh.. Why’d you have us meet here instead of anywhere closer to the docks?” He asked, trying to break the awkwardly growing silence.

“Scarecrow has patrols circulating around the docks. We’re less likely to be spotted if we’re not waiting around there to meet up,” Tim explains with a little shrug.

Jason hummed a brief note of understanding, “Oh yeah, that makes sense. I’m, uh, I haven’t worked with anyone in... years,” Jason paused, taking another drag from the smouldering cigarette, “Y’know, really nothing team oriented since working with B. Even then I was a shitty teammate,” he laughed hollowly.

Tim nodded, thinking about what Jason’d just said. Had it really been that long? Maybe… maybe the fact that Jason was even admitting to being a bad teammate didn’t bode well. It could mean trouble for them later. If it was so obvious that even Jason could admit it, perhaps Tim shouldn’t have done this team-up.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Tim ran to catch up to Jason quickly, “Wait... how old are you?” He asked upon reaching him.

“I’m t- uh... hold on, well... how long was I gone?” He asked Tim in return.

“You were thought to be dead for five years,” Tim told him, in a tone like he was reciting a Wikipedia page written about the formally deceased, wayward Wayne boy. Now that Jason thought of it, he was certain Bruce had a file written up on him now. Bruce had written up for every major criminal in Gotham city.

Jason let out a low whistle and soft huff, “I must be… twenty one now? Weird.”

“So... you didn't know how old you were till now?” Tim raised a brow, causing the mask to shift.

“Yeaahh,” Jason drew the word out sarcastically, pretending to took him deep thought to reconcile. “Somethin’ about the severe head trauma, dying, comin’ back, and being isolated from the normal world for years, all while being a wreck the whole time seems to have made my memory a lil’ fuzzy,” Jason said with a wry, sarcastic smile.

Tim seethed silently, letting out a series of apologetic mumbles, eyes dropping to ground ahead of him- it was a tactless and rude thing to ask, and Tim should’ve known that!

Jason laughed weakly, hand quickly coming up towards him and... ruffled Tim’s hair? The boy hadn’t even had a chance to recoil. He was just confused; that was the last thing he’d expect from Jason.

The man stubbed out his cigarette and lumbered on ahead of Tim, dropping it in the trash, “Don’t worry about it, kid. I was just being a bitch, you’re fine.”

Tim opened and closed his mouth, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. A man who tried to kill him only a year ago had just ruffled his hair?! He decided not to comment on it, because-- after all--what the hell could he even say?

Tim cleared his throat again, “We should get into position, we’re almost there. Maybe get your, uh, helmet-thingy on?” He suggested.

Jason glanced at the helmet- he’d almost forgotten he had it tucked under his arm.

“Yeah, of course,” Jason said, lifting his helmet and plunking it on his head, “good reminder, Timbers.” His voice became modulated the second the helmet covered his head. His low, gravely, smokers growl of a voice, was nowhere near and deep and gravely as Bruce’s--but sounded like it took a step closer with every box of cigarettes--became a pitch lower still. An odd robotic twang edged his words, giving him a metallic, cyber sound.

Tim adjusted his own mask, making sure it was firmly in place before nodding to Jason. The two silently started up again, approaching a warehouse that was supposed to be locked until the next morning’s shipment. “Supposed to be” being the operative words. Instead, there was muted huffing and shuffling as two of Scarecrow’s workers uncomfortably hauled a large crate into the building.

Both Jason and Tim seemed to shrink into the shadows at the same instant; each becoming one with the wall. Jason drew his weapon quietly, earning a disapproving frown from Tim. “I’m not gonna kill them. Chill,” Jason whispered in that odd robotic voice.

Tim seemed satisfied enough to quit pouting at Jason. They crept closer, making little dashes between hiding spots when the coast was clear.

Jason let out a breath of curse as his eyes fell about the giant, glass, canister. It was filled with a bubbling, sickly, arsenic green substance.

“No way, that shit is all fear toxin? Fuck! He’s got enough to blast the entire downtown!” His voice came through in a synthesized hiss.

“Worse.” Tim whispered, spying the large pressurizer on top of the glass container. “That’s just the liquid form. When he releases it, it’ll be gaseous. If it’s released from the container from a high vantage point, a small breeze could cover the entire city in minutes.”

The severity of the situation washed over what little of Tim’s features were visible from beneath the mask.

This wasn’t just a quick little in and out operation anymore. One wrong move and there could have a small, yet very messy, catastrophic outcome.

Tim had to plan this carefully, because there was no way they could afford to mess this up.

He turned to Jason...or, rather, where Jason had just been seconds before.

Jason had evidently had a similar train of thought to Tim’s. He’d realized this was a serious situation, though, instead of drawing the conclusion to re-evaluate, re-plan, and carry on with caution, or something sensible-- he seemingly forgot any sense of subtlety he had. Oh, God forbid carefully thinking his actions out, like any sane rational person would do. Or calling for backup, like anyone with a vague semblance of self-preservation. No no, instead, Jason had decided it was best to act now and not waste a second with plans or any ideas of safety. He jumped into action.

Jason was already leaping over the crate the two vigilantes had been hiding behind seconds ago, as Tim let out a quiet imploring hiss of “Wait--oh no-”“ but it was too late.

Jason already had his gun drawn.

“Scarecrow!” he yelled, “this ends now!” He fired at the box the two workers were carrying, sending it out of their hands and clattering to the floor. A series of shattering followed the initial crash as the contents shattered. Whatever chemicals that had been inside hissed loudly, a faint smoke rising from between the boards of the wooden box.

“Hood!?” The Scarecrow rounded to face who he knew as the ex-criminal, ‘The Red Hood.’

“In the flesh.” Jason kept his gun trained on Scarecrow, while a third worker who had been off to the side started to shuffle his way towards him.

“Thought you moved your little operation away from Gotham when the Bats got the better of you,” Scarecrow commented, not seeming pleased about the interruption at all.

Scarecrow’s worker lunged at Jason. Tim kicked himself mentally and left hiding, kicking the worker --physically, not mentally this time-- back away from Jason. The third worker scuttled back, apparently deciding this altercation was above his pay grade.

Jason felt something he hadn’t really felt in a long time; it was a feeling akin to camaraderie. He had someone watching his back for once. If the circumstances hadn’t been so dire, he might have even cracked a smile. Or, rather, he might have felt a slight tug at the corner of his lips, at least.

“Well, yeah, the bats did get the best of me. Now I’m tryna give them my best. And that involves bootin’ your sorry ass out of here.”

“Quick witted, aren’t you?” Scarecrow tensed slightly. His eyes darted away from behind his mask for a moment. He was glancing to the side. Tim followed his gaze over to the-

Shit! The canister! If the bullet missed Scarecrow it would-

Tim knew what scarecrow was thinking, but it was too late.

“NO!” Tim shouted, helplessly watching as Scarecrow dove.

As expected, Jason pulled the trigger reflexively, but the Scarecrow had already ducked. The bullet made a resounding bang as it fired, hitting the large gas canister.

Tim seized up, every nerve buzzing, every muscle tensed, every fibre of his being filled with an awful sinking sensation. The room was deadly-still. It was like something written by the hand of a fool-hardy novelist, who was paid far too much for over-the-top paperbacks; The bullet had embedded itself in the glass, acting like a stopper. A sickening series of cracks emanated from the canisters, as a thin spidery web formed across the glass. All tendrils originating from where the bullet hit.

Jason let out a low whistle, “Well. That coulda been disastrous.”

Tim couldn’t help but feel relieved, a stressed laugh escaping his lips.

Scarecrow was scampering away, his workers already having pulled a quick disappearing act themselves, because, this wasn’t what he’d planned.

“Don’t even think about it, Crane,” Jason said as he turned, taking a heavy step.

Said heavy step was apparently too much. The glass gave a shuttering groan, followed by a small hiss as gas began to leak.

Tim made an involuntary distressed sound. Something akin to an exhausted sigh mixed with a whimper.

The one word that ever so eloquently graced Jason’s lips was, “Fuck.”

And the canister...

Burst.

The pressure placed on the glass had built up and could no longer hold.

Jason’s final step had been the breaking point, the spider work of cracks along the glass giving way with a great shatter.

Shards of the canister flung themselves across the room. The liquid that had been held within instantly began vaporizing into a thick, sickening gas. To anyone that had the misfortune of inhaling it, it felt as though the gas was trying --with every atom of its existence-- to choke the life out of its victim. It reached into their lungs, clawed at their insides, grabbing at their desperately beating hearts, and squeezed. It forced their brain to fill their body with adrenaline and hallucinogens. Tim knew this.

He’d studied the Scarecrow’s fear toxin many times. He’d been exposed to it before, too. Tim knew this fear and knew he was helpless to do anything about it.

Tim was helpless to stop this. He had failed. He’d failed Bruce. He’d failed this mission. Because he was weak. He was weak, helpless, hopeless, a failure, a burden, unwanted. He was nothing more than a replaceable replacement. No one would care if he was gone, God, it’s not like anyone would ever notice! He was a forgettable nothing. Tim coughed and wheezed. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe!

Tim staggered. He tripped over his feet trying to get away from the intense fear that gripped his throat. Tim realized something physical was gripping his neck. The thing dragged him back roughly, towards what he could only assume was something horrid. Tim clawed at the thing gripping his throat. As he gasped for shuddering breath, he couldn’t help but begin to sob. He was going to die. He would die and no one would care. No one would even try to find him when he didn’t come home, they wouldn’t even notice because he was worthless, replaceable, weak, failure, helpless!

A new level of fear washed over Tim as he felt something cover his face, it encased his head. Tim could feel it squeeze his skull, he swore the pressure felt tight enough to crush his cranium like a tin can. It was claustrophobic. He felt his own shallow breath bounce back against his lips, because it had nowhere else to go. He was trapped and suffocating.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t BREATHE! OH--oh, oh no... no? Wait a moment... he COULD breathe.

Tim took a moment to try to get his bearings. He needed to remember how his lungs worked. He awkwardly sucked in a breath of filtered, recycled air. It tasted tinny on his tongue. Tim blinked the tears from his eyes. They rolled down his cheeks, and he became aware of the taste of salt too. There was the faint scent of stale tobacco and smoke. His mind was reeling as he processed each detail. He dragged tongue over his lips nervously, and began to chew at his bottom lip. Tim’s heart was still pounding and his hands were shaking. He raised his hands to feel his head, glancing at his twitching fingers as they passed in front of his face, confusedly. Everything had a red tinge to it. He pressed his hands to his head, feeling a hard smooth surface.

Tim’s brain felt slow and groggy, taking a moment to clue into what was on his head. Was it Jason’s helmet? Yes, yes it was Jason’s helmet, that was certain, but where was Jason?

The thick gas still hung in a green fog, but the helmet seemed to be filtering the worst of it out. Tim swept his arm though the air, watching the gas clear slightly, before swooping in to fill the gaps. Tim knew he needed to thin this stuff out if he wanted to have any hope in finding Jason before tripping over him. He rushed through the room, feeling his way over to the door. Scarecrow’s men had closed it, containing them --and more importantly the gas-- inside. Small mercy the fear toxin wasn’t being released on the city though.

Tim dragged his fingers along the wall. His senses were so heightened that it was almost overstimulating. It was likely due to the toxin, Tim guessed. He could still feel the rough brick as he scraped along, even through the tips of his gloves. It was oddly reassuring. A steady constant he could focus on until -thunk- His hand bumped into a smooth metallic protrusion from the wall. Exactly what Tim had been looking for.

“Bingo.”

Tim swept his other arm through the air again, doing his best to fan the gass away for him to get a bit of a better view of what he was hoping to see. A metal switch box, old and slightly rusted around the edges. Tim had been counting on any wearhouse by the docks having a ventilation system to keep the products safe from humidity. Of course, he was right. With some difficulty, Tim wrenched the switch box open. After straining to read faded, dusty labels through the gas in the air, he flipped what he hoped was the right switch.

There was a small whine of aching metal that hadn’t moved in a long time and Tim cracked into a grin underneath the helmet.

He’d done it!

The fans kicked into a regular pace. The smooth ‘whoomp whoomp whoomp’ of turning blades filled Tim with a sense of muted triumph. The foggy haze of fear gas began to thin as the building began to filter it out, mixing it with the humid air. Tim figured it would be condensed and drip out to puddle with the dirty water in the alley behind the warehouse. If Tim was right, which he usually was, it wouldn’t harm anyone unless they decided to drink from the puddle water. Which was unlikely, but not impossible. It was Gotham after all.

Tim looked around the room as the gas dissipated. His gaze found its way to a shaking heap on the floor next to the shattered remains of the canister he had been standing before. The proud grin faded from Tim’s lips.

That... that wasn’t a good sign at all.

“Hey, um, hood? Red hood, status?” He asked, the words felt strange as they left his mouth. Hearing his own modulated voice echo slightly in the room felt vaguely surreal.

The heap of muscle and leather known as Jason didn’t reply.

Seeing Jason’s twitching body on the floor emptied a hollow pit in Tim’s stomach. Jason had never seemed like he was even capable of fear. Capable of rage, capable of hurt, and capable of pain, sure, but fear seemed like something Tim would’ve assumed Jason was beyond. Something so... innate, that the unnatural nature of Jason’s second life would’ve swept it away.

Tim made his way over, hesitantly rolling the helmet forward off his head. The fear toxin seemed to be thin enough now that it wasn’t harming him.

“Ja-er, Jason?” Tim’s soft voice seemed thunderously loud in the quiet room. The only other sounds around were the fans quietly whirring away and, far more disturbingly in his opinion, the even quieter shaking breaths and distressed whimpering tumbling from Jason’s lips.

Jason was not in good shape. He was shaking violently, hands over his head. His whimpers were punctuated by violent spasms that racked his body every few seconds, accompanied with a louder more pronounced cry.

Tim felt the colour drain from his face. He quickly kneeled down, setting the helmet on the concrete floor next to them both with a slight clink. Tim grabbed Jason’s arm, trying to turn him on to his back. Jason heftily flailed the arm Tim pulled, unintentionally hitting Tim in the face. Tim yelped in surprise as a sharp pain sprung from his nose, warm liquid leaking down his face. The blood pouring down his face didn’t deter Tim much, the blood coursing through him seeming to do the opposite for pain as it did the rest of his senses. The pain was slightly numbed--or, rather, it had become easy to ignore. He fought to wrangle both of Jason’s arms, quickly scrambling to sit on Jason’s torso, struggling to pin Jason’s arms down with his legs.

Tim took off his mask. He knew it was against protocol, but an un-obscured face was easier to recognize when the toxin took hold, in Tim’s experience.

“Jason? Jason, look at me. Can you hear me?” he asked quickly, holding on to Jason’s shoulders. He desperately hoped Jason wouldn’t throw him off. Jason’s eyes were unfocused, spinning around wildly all over the room.

Tim tried to process Jason’s words, “No, not again, ple--I can’t I--it hurts! Fuck! It hurts,” Jason’s words became incomprehensible for a moment, then his fists clenched tightly. “I don’t want to die! Not again. Not again not again not again! He’s gotta come save me, take me home, he’s gotta! Shit, not again!“ he choked and broke off with a shout and another full body jerk.

Tim was jostled but didn’t fall off, by some miracle. “Jason!” he tried. “Listen to me!” Tim put his hands on either of Jason’s face. Jason flinched away from Tim’s touch with a sob of “It hurts, it hurts, I can hear all my bones snapping, I’m dying, it’s crushing me, I can’t--I can’t--”

“I know,” Tim cut him off gently, “I know it hurts and--and you’re scared, but you’re not alone, I’m right here. I’m going to help you,” Tim tried to catch Jason’s focus.

Jason’s roaming eyes stopped dodging around the room, and turned towards Tim. He kept looking from Tim’s shoulders, Tim’s chest, back up to his face and then to his eyes and back to his chest again. Perhaps not the ideal image of calming down but it was a first step.

“Good,” Tim praised softly in relief. He ran his thumbs over Jason’s cheeks gently. Now more so than ever did Tim take notice of the scars on either side of Jason’s face. On Jason’s left cheek, there was a jagged line that traced from his cheek bone down to his jaw. A similar yet smaller one was mirrored on Jason’s right. Tim could understand why Jason flinched from him. He shook the thought from his mind, “See? We’re okay. Just try to breathe, in and out. You can do that, right, Jason?”

“No! No! I c-can’t, I’m crushed, I can’t. My--my lungs, they’re all full of blood, and mud, and dirt, and fuckin’ I dunno what!” Another violent thrash went through Jason’s body, almost toppling Tim off this time. “I can’t breathe, it hurts! I want it to stop hurting! How do I make it stop!?”

“Uah--yeah, I know it hurts, but I promise nothing is crushing you. It’s just me, I’m light, and I’m here and I--I know it hurts I’m going to try to make it stop but I need to--” Jason thrashed, but Tim didn’t relinquish his hold on him, “--but I NEED you to stay still!”

Jason’s eyes finally locked on to Tim’s, “M-make it s-stop?” he echoed back to the smaller vigilante.

“Yeah, yeah I’m going to try to make it stop.” Tim slowly pulled his hands away from Jason, sitting back slightly, starting to fish through the many pockets and pouches attached to the strap around his waist.

He almost always had the antidote on hand. Bruce had trained him and prepared him meticulously, making certain that Tim would be ready with everything they had at all costs. The only issue was it was enough antidote for him; almost seventeen, about a head shorter and ninety pounds lighter--nowhere near enough antitoxin for the two hundred and forty pounds of murder that was the shaking mass of Jason Todd slumped before him.

Jason dropped his head back against the concrete floor, beginning to mutter once again.

“My fault. All my fault. I can’t--all dead.”

“No one is dead, Jason, everyone is okay,” Tim said, soon after feeling a small surge of triumph as he located his field fear toxin antidote kit. He opened it, quickly pulling out a small vial, and a syringe.

Jason’s eyes snapped to the syringe in Tim’s hand as he filled with antidote. Jason grew quiet for a second before starting to try to fight Tim off of him, “No, no no no no no no! Don’t go! don’t go! Not again, I can’t be alone, can’t be asleep he’s gonna kill us. Dad said he’ll get rid’f his mistakes!”

Tim knew Bruce wouldn’t have ever threatened Jason like that. He could only assume Jason meant his biological father.

“Said he would--don’t, don’t! It’s crushing me I can’t be alone!” Jason couldn’t keep hold of his own fears. They ran together, all mixed in to become some dread filled nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

Tim was lucky Jason was so sloppy in this state. If he’d had a bit more of his wits about him, Tim figured Jason would’ve easily shaken him off already.

“You aren’t alone!” Tim reminded Jason, struggling to inject Jason without hurting him. “This is going to make it stop, I promise!” Well, that wasn’t fully true. But the dose would reduce it.

When Jason wouldn’t hold still enough for him to properly gauge where the vein he needed was, Tim unceremoniously jabbed at where he hoped it was instead.

Jason shouted, thrashing around like a heavy shark in a net being lifted out of water.

Tim pulled the empty syringe away quickly, letting Jason throw him off. He stumbled and crashed back down, landing on the concrete floor a few feet away. Tim only now realized how heavy his breath was as he watched Jason writhe freely on the floor before him. As Tim caught his breath, Jason’s movements gradually began to slow. The mutterings of fear faded into soft whimpers, then into deep breaths like Tim’s. Tim bit at his lip again. “Jason?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.

Jason groaned in response. He took a moment to collect himself as he grew conscious of reality again. Really, reality was a shit hole too, but it was a better shit hole. He shifted slightly, cussing under his breath.

Tim felt an invisible weight lift from his shoulders; swearing like a sailor was promising in Jason’s case.

He quickly scooted across the floor to him.

“Hey,” Tim said in a hushed voice. “Jason? How you feeling?”

Jason--with what felt like the struggle of Sisyphus rolling his boulder for the millionth time--rolled over to face him. The white shock of hair stuck to Jason’s forehead with panic induced sweat. He puffed out a lungful of air in a feeble attempt to blow the hair from his face. Jason swiftly gave up on that and swallowed heavily.

“I-I... yeah, yeah, I uh... I--okay. I’m feeling okay,” Jason rambled, looking dazed. He took up scanning the room again, hyper-vigilant to any danger.

Tim nodded slowly. He grabbed a water bottle that was shoved in one of his many pouches. He helped Jason sit up, just enough so he could sip at the water, and forced the bottle into Jason’s hands.

“Drink,” Tim ordered, quietly.

Jason’s hands still shook lightly, causing him to fumble with the cap in his hands.

Now that the danger had passed, Tim finally had time to process what had happened; he often found himself acting and only having time to absorb the details afterwards. Details like that Jason had traded his safety and immunity for Tim’s.

Why did Jason do that?

“Not... that I’m ungrateful,” Tim began hesitantly, “but that was a stupid thing to do, just… now- today,” he stumbled out awkwardly.

“I know,” gasped Jason after a long chug of water, a weak smile on his lips.

“I mean--it’s like in those before flight messages on planes. Put your mask on before the baby’s or whatever,” Tim joked slightly. Tim’s nose wrinkled slightly, cringing just the tiniest bit as he realized he implied he was the baby in this situation, “Well, you know what I’m getting at…”

Jason seemed to only take even more amusement out of the teen’s regret. Tim never thought he’d see the day where he felt tension draining at the sigh of Jason Todd, a man that tried to kill him and about eighty other people, smiling.

Jason laughed weakly, though it came out a little haltingly, as the shivering shakes hadn’t yet subsided. “Yeah, well, I d-did have my mask on. I just... gave it to the k-kid before the plane went down,” he mused. He didn’t really believe in his own point, and shook his head.

“No, no you’re right. It was stupid and I know that.”

They fell into a slightly awkward silence for a second, the burning question still gnawing at Tim’s mind.

“Why?” Tim said, abruptly. “Er, why did you do that? If you knew it was stupid?”

Jason didn’t answer for a long moment. Instead stalling by taking another swig of water. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before answering.

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted, with a little smile.

Jason was breathing heavily, but seemed more focused, “I didn’t... really think. Maybe I was just makin’ up for other stuff I f-fucked up or... dunno. I guess I j-just... I knew if one of us was gonna be safe, it had to be y-ou.”

Jason swore he could practically see the little loading sign twirl in Tim’s nerd-brain as the teen processed what he’d said. The mental loading bar filled, and Jason’s words seemed to click. Tim’s eyes dropped away, and he smiled a little shyly. Not an awkward or uncomfortable smile. Just complimented.

“Thanks,” Tim’s voice was just above a whisper, “ that was... really nice of you.”

“It’s okay, don’t men-ention it. Like literally ever. It’ll ruin my rep,” Jason cracked a teasing smirk once again and Tim got to his feet laughing lightly.

“Annnnddd he’s back to normal,” Tim chuckled and offered Jason a hand. Tim yanked him, not without obvious difficulty, up to stand tall. Jason leaned on him for a moment before straightening, keeping a hand on Tim’s shoulder to steady himself. Tim quickly bent down and scooped up their masks from the floor where he’d set them down.

“Let’s get you home,” Tim hummed, putting Jason’s arm around his shoulders again when he stood.

“Hey, I’m fin-ne, you don’t have to take me back,” Jason argued, but Tim was already starting to lead him away.

“Too bad, I decided I am.”

“Rep-placement Robin number whatever you are--I am fine!”

“Sure you are, that’s why you can’t stand up right by yourself?”

“Shut up!”

“I speak only truth.”

The two bickered all the way back through away from the docks. All the way back through the city. All the way until they reached Jason’s apartment complex. Then they bickered some more. Though neither knew it yet, what had begun forming was the beginning of a close bond. One that nothing would be able to break.

#batman #robin #jason todd #redhood #red hood #Tim Drake #red robin #batfam big bang 2021 #Just for Fun #idk how tumblr works

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

Text

just how fast the night changes // george weasley

Summary: epilogue // the yule ball, in fact, was a pleasant surprise

Request: sort of oui

A/N: people asked for an epilogue and I am very pleased to provide

Reader: female, Slytherin

Warnings: making out?

enemies // friends // lovers // epilogue

You were more nervous than you cared to admit. As you smoothed down your dress, turning to the side in the mirror, you tried to quash the butterflies in your stomach. This was not you. You were not about to be all goo-goo eyed and giggly over George Weasley of all bloody people. You frowned at the lump that formed in your throat at even the thought of his name. How annoying, you thought. He’d love that.

You and George’s relationship had taken a strange, but not entirely unpleasant turn since he asked you to the Yule Ball. Being around him was surreal at the best of times. At the worst of times, it had you shaking like a chihuahua. You still managed to volley witty remarks back and forth off of one another like you’d grown used to doing; except now there was something more to it.

That something more was what had your heart beating loudly in your ears and a smile eating away at your cheeks after every interaction. It didn’t help that he’d also found a way to touch you more: whether it was a lingering brush of your arm as he passed you in the corridor, or a nudge from his elbow as you shared a joke. Between that and his boyish grin, you found yourself falling further and further into the wormhole that was George Weasley.

Worse than anything, you reluctantly had to acknowledge that you were quite excited for the ball, if not just to spend the whole evening with George. As if it wasn’t embarrassing enough to admit to yourself, by the way Hermione was staring at you, it was written all over your face for everyone else to see too.

“You look very lovely,” she said, tilting her head to the side and watching you closely. Her fingers played with the hem of her pretty blue dress and the smile on her lips was rather kind.

“Shut up,” you said distractedly, your tone light as your eyes flicked nervously to meet hers in the reflection.

“You’ll take George’s breath away,” she promised, stepping closer to hug you. You tentatively wrapped your arms around her, swallowing and frowning as you dug your chin into her shoulder.

“Why would I care what George thinks?” you said, pulling away. You were grateful that she didn’t reply. “You look wonderful,” you added, looking at her properly for the first time. “I’m wildly impressed with this dress.”

She giggled, shaking her head and grabbing your wrist, pulling you towards the door.

“Let’s go get ‘em, then, Granger,” you sighed, your tone betraying your words.

The walk down to the Great Hall was a long one and had Hermione’s grip on your wrist been any less ironclad, you would’ve chewed your fingernails down to the quick. The thought of the dance made your insides swim and you felt sick to your stomach as the noise from the crowd grew louder and louder. You almost didn’t notice George at first, your attention too focused on the newly decorated walls as your eyes trailed across familiar faces. You raised your eyebrow at Harry and he sent you a somewhat awkward smile in response, a typical interaction for the two of you.

“Bloody hell,” George said, a low whistle escaping his lips as you looked at him for the first time, immediately aware of Hermione’s hand slipping from your own. She shot you an encouraging glance as she was dragged away by Krum, leaving you all alone to deal with George’s vastly overwhelming presence.

“You do scrub up well,” he said, grinning as he stepped closer. You pursed your lips to contain your smile.

“My, aren’t you a charmer?” you said sarcastically, crossing your arms and rocking your head to the side.

“I’m a man of many talents.”

You scoffed.

“So, humble, too.”

“What can I say?” he beamed, offering you his hand. “It’s easy when you’ve got the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts on your arm.”

You opened your mouth to retort, your words dying on your tongue at the sincere look in his eyes. Staring at his hand, you frowned at the amusement growing on his face and a huff slipped past your lips.

“Piss off,” you said as you grabbed his hand, struggling to avoid thinking about how warm his skin was against yours.

“Quick and witty as ever, love,” he said, his tone mocking as he interlinked your fingers, an action that sent you spiralling slightly.

He led you across the room towards the dancefloor, the music drowned out by your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

“What can I say?” you parroted, swallowing as he twisted you around, his palm in yours shifting and the fingers of his other hand finding your waist. “It’s easy when you’ve got the most annoying twat at Hogwarts holding your hand.”

He tipped his head back and laughed and the sound was so heavenly to your ears that you couldn’t help but smile, especially when he squeezed your side. You squeaked, letting your hand fall to his shoulder.

“There she is,” he whispered, dipping his head down briefly so his lips ghosted over your ear. “That’s the Y/N I recognise.”

You twisted your lips to the side, a newfound confidence flowing through you.

“Why?” you said innocently, tilting your head to the side to look him in the eyes. “Did you miss me?”

He exhaled out of his nose; his eyes trained on yours as he wet his lips with his tongue. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it immediately, humming instead.

You raised an eyebrow at him, enjoying how nervous he looked. It was a lot more fun when the shoe was on the other foot, you decided triumphantly.

“You do look very beautiful,” he said, suddenly very sombre as you side-stepped around the other couples. You paused, wondering absentmindedly if that’s what you and George were now.

“You’re so-“ you started, stopping yourself short as you realised what he’d said. “What?”

“I said you look beautiful,” he repeated, his serious expression foreign to you.

“Oh,” you breathed, visibly floored.

“You don’t have to thank me; I know that’s hard for you.”

He laughed when you scowled, not letting you release his hand to hit him.

“I could thank you if I wanted to,” you said indignantly, pouting slightly.

“Oh really?”

He raised an eyebrow as you stopped dancing and at that moment, a strange urge overcame you. Looking at his handsome features and that deeply annoying yet somehow still oddly charming grin, you couldn’t help yourself. And so, against any form of higher cognitive function, you leant in and pressed your lips to his. Very quickly, you pulled away, your eyes wide, but his impossibly wider.

“See,” you said, clamping your mouth shut and swallowing, conscious of his fingers tightening around your palm. “That was a thank you.”

“Right,” he said, the cogs in his head almost visible as a smile began to tug at his lips, lifting your hopes with it.

“That was not a thank you.”

“That was so a thank you.”

“I’ve never seen you thank anyone.”

“Luckily for you, I don’t thank anyone by kissing them.”

“Luckily for me?” you snorted. “Aren’t I just blessed?”

You both stared at each other for a moment, fighting smiles as you bickered. You couldn’t deny that somehow, someway, George Weasley had become one of your favourite people, if not your favourite entirely.

“So,” he said, pulling you closer by the waist until you were pressed against him. “Wanna thank me again? Properly, though, this time.”

“And what am I thanking you-?“

And then, he kissed you, his lips surprisingly soft against your own as your eyes fluttered shut and you were kissing him back. He leant away all too soon, but his hand squeezed yours as he looked at you with a cheeky grin. You forced your legs to move again.

“You’re welcome,” you said, slightly breathless and definitely trying to hide the way your stomach was swarming with butterflies.

“I’m welcome?” he said, also breathless. “I believe you were thanking me, love.”

“What would I thank you for? If anything, you should thank me for that excellent snog.”

“That was not a snog; that was a kiss at best.”

“Oh, alright, snog police, I’ll retract my previous statement, then.”

You slowed to a halt near one of the tables, but he didn’t let go of your hand or your waist; something you were most grateful for.

“All I’m saying is that if you want a snog, I can give you a-“

“Are you two still arguing?” Fred asked, appearing beside you for a moment as he danced with Angelina Johnson. She offered you a smile, but you just averted your eyes to look at Fred. “Can’t you just get a room already?”

“Actually, Fred,” you said, pulling back from George but making sure to keep your hands linked. “That’s a brilliant idea, thank you for the suggestion.”

“What?” George whispered as you pulled him towards the doorway, ignoring the way Fred’s whistles weren’t quite drowned out by the overbearing music. You stopped short, enjoying his warm grasp in your own.

“I’m taking you up on your offer,” you said plainly, your shoulders sliding back as you assessed him in all his tall, stupid and handsome glory. “Unless-“

“No,” he said, far too quickly for it to be considered anything resembling cool. His eagerness made you smile and a smirk crept onto his lips as he looked at you and once again that night, you felt strangely nervous under his gaze.

“What?” you asked crossly, trying to appear much less apprehensive than you felt. His grin widened at your sharp tone, too familiar with it to be offended.

“Nothing,” he said, wetting his lips. “Just didn’t think we’d be here, did I?”

You rolled your eyes, but he recognised the fond curve of your smile.

“Don’t get soft on me now, Weasley,” you said lightly, biting your lip.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Your footsteps were loud down the corridor, but, between your poorly aimed kisses, your laughter was louder as it echoed through the hallways.

harry potter tag list: (includes taglist for nightchanges!series!!!)

@creator-appreciator @decadentwastelandtrash @loveisblindness @xinyourdreamsx @brainlesspasta @hariosborn @staringmoony @rexorangecouny @alittletoomanyobsessions @peachesandpinks @yuptha-tsme @obsessedwithrandomthings @dreamer821 @iprobablyshipit91 @in-slytherin-we-trust @haphazardhufflepuff @princesof-theuniverse @whovianayesha @msmimimerton @extra-trash77 @potterverseimagine @my-own-mindpalace @sxrensxngwrites @damonwhitlock @ickle-ronniekins @harrysweasleys @theweirdsideofstuff @igotmindcontrol @fandomscombine @mytreec @tallyovie @strawberriesonsummer @parkeroffline @everandformore @okkulta

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter #writing #imagine

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confused-stars · 3 years

Note

I saw your tags for the Sign AU, and I can't stop thinking about the possible interrogation. Shigaraki is preparing himself for hours of grueling questions about locations, members, quirks, and plans. But then his favorite hero shows up and asks how he knows his sign name? It's been two hours and Shigaraki still doesn't understand why they are asking about this. He is confused. Aizawa is confused. And AFO has no idea about all the chaos a sign name has caused.

*clears throat* may i-

It must have been hours at this point. Tomura is sure, from how drained he feels and how tight his stomach is with hunger. They’ve offered him a sandwich, sure, but he wasn’t about to accept it. Especially since the handcuffs around his wrists were clearly created with him - or touch-based quirk users - specifically in mind: rather than hold his hands behind his back, or loosely in front, they force his palms together, fingers pressed against each other as if he’s praying, secured together with five sets of dual rings that wrap around his joints. It’s not uncomfortable, but it also leaves him just a little more helpless. If he wants to eat, someone will have to feed him, and he absolutely refuses to even entertain the notion.

Kurogiri is still out there. The League is still out there. They’ll come for him if only he waits long enough. They’ll find out where he is. He’s not being moved to Tartarus, he knows that much, because Sensei is there and they don’t want them close.

He almost wishes they would move him. That they'd just give it up already. He hasn't said a word since they brought him in.

Well... that's not entirely true.

When All Might was here earlier, tired and skinny looking and... and pathetic, with no right to keep his head held high like that, and he called Tomura by a name that's not his (it's not, it's not, it's not), Tomura did snap at him to shut up. To 'fucking stop it'. He hated the kicked puppy look. the gentle words that felt like poison to Tomura's ears, because who does All Might think he is? Tomura Shigaraki is still a villain. Tenko Shimura is dead. When he spat that out, All Might's resolve hardened, and he began a more traditional interrogation. At that point, Tomura couldn't have answered even if he'd wanted to. He still can't speak, now. They obviously don't know that. It’s a weakness he’s not just going to admit to.

Tomura’s head jerks up when a set of steps actually stops outside the door. He shakes a loose strand of hair out of his face, hating that he can’t even brush them aside himself. Who is it this time? The detective with the lie detector quirk again? Or someone who can actually force Tomura to speak? How far are these heroes willing to go?

But the door opens, and it’s the one person Tomura can’t help but be shocked to see. Eraserhead.

Tired-looking as always, the scar underneath his eye a new addition from when Tomura last saw him in person. What’s he doing here? Tomura wishes he could ask. Instead, he just settles for a somewhat confused glare.

Eraserhead looks him up and down, expression unreadable. All underground heroes must have good poker faces, Tomura thinks. He wishes he had that ability. Tomura is not a good liar. He never needed to be.

“When’s the last time you had something to drink?” Eraserhead asks, hands moving to sign along, and, okay, is he here to play good cop? Playing off the begrudging respect Tomura has for him?

Tomura doesn’t move. He keeps glaring. Eraserhead sighs and approaches the table, dropping down in the chair opposite Tomura. He fumbles with a pouch on his belt for a moment, and eventually pulls out a juice box. It’s almost enough to make Tomura laugh at the absurdity - it’s the same brand Kurogiri buys. Eraserhead stabs the straw through the little hole on top and pushes it over on the table. Tomura looks down at the juice box, then up at him. He is thirsty. His throat is dry enough that swallowing hurts a little, and the sugar in the juice will definitely be helpful, and when the League comes to break him out, he’ll need to be in the best shape he can hope for.

He sinks down in his seat the best he can, and stretches his head forward until he can catch the straw between his lips. It’s still humiliating, though better than someone holding it for him, and he looks anywhere but Eraserhead as he empties the juice box within seconds.

“Well, that’s a start.” Eraserhead slumps in his seat and sighs, sounding very world-weary. Tomura knows the man is only in his early thirties, but he seems to have been aging rapidly lately. That’s probably due to Tomura’s own actions. He wonders what Eraserhead sees when he looks at him. A victim to be saved, like All Might apparently thinks? Just a too skinny kid who is in over his head? Or is he actually smart enough to understand that Tomura doesn’t want, doesn’t need saving? That Tomura is the monster they should all be afraid of and he lives for it?

Maybe Eraserhead sees a little bit of both. Those eyes of his are very sharp. Tomura should have had the noumu take them, back at the USJ. Then his quirk wouldn’t have been a problem anymore either.

“I’d love to know what you’re thinking,” Eraserhead tells him, voice dry as Compress’ favored liquor.

Tomura raises a brow at him. Shrugs. Looks away.

Eraserhead is silent for a little while. The seconds tick by, though Tomura can’t be sure that his count is correct. There’s no clock in here. No window, either, of course. He has no way of telling how long he’s really been here. If he ends up falling asleep eventually, he’ll be completely lost. Hopefully his rescue comes before that.

“... Shigaraki,” Eraserhead says finally, slowly, “If you wanted to talk to me right now, would you be able to?”

Oh. Oh, no. Tomura knows they're being watched, but he doesn’t know how the detective’s quirk works, if he can detect a lie when it’s just communicated through a gesture... but even if he can’t... Tomura nodding right now would kind of prove Eraserhead’s point, wouldn’t it? So he sighs and gives a jerky shake of his head.

Eraserhead nods, clearly Tomura just confirmed what he suspected. Because unlike most heroes, Eraserhead actually has the brains to back up his quirk and fighting skills. "Detective, I'm going to need the key to those cuffs."

There's a crackle from the speaker in the corner of the room. "That doesn't seem like a wise idea."

Ah, arguing right in front of him. Tomura smiles lazily, even though he hates having his face exposed like this. They took Father and the others, of course. He's going to have to find them before they leave.

"I'll erase his quirk if he tries anything. You want him to communicate, don't you?" Eraserhead asks, a tad snappy.

There's a long pause, then the door opens and the detective steps through. He doesn't take his eyes off of Tomura, even as he hands Eraserhead a single, tiny key. Tomura returns his gaze with an outward calm that he's not feeling at all. He can't make them go back on this decision, he wants so desperately to have his hands free so he can scratch that incessant itch that's been growing worse and worse with each passing minute.

"You're going to let me take these off you without trying anything, right?" Eraserhead asks. They have no replacement cuffs, but those would be a farce anyway, wouldn't they? And if they want Tomura to sign, he'll need greater range than a standard set of them would allow him. He rolls his eyes and nods, presenting his folded hands to the hero. The detective watches for another moment or two, then steps back out, undoubtedly to continue observing.

It takes a little fumbling on Eraserhead's part to get the cuffs off, with all their little moving pieces, and he's either being very careful so he won't hurt himself on accident, or, less likely, so he won't hurt Tomura. Tomura's own eyes drift to his elbow and he wonders about the massive scar that must be hidden underneath that sleeve.

Finally, his hands are free, and gently glowing red eyes turn to his face.

Tomura ignores him for the time being in order to scratch at his neck, deep and thorough until he tears skin.

Eraserhead makes an aborted movement, as if to stop him, but then seems to change his mind, fist clenched atop the table. Good. If he wants Tomura coherent, he'll need to let him fight off the onset of another episode that's been looming for a while.

"Did All for One teach you sign language because of your nonverbal phases?" Eraserhead asks. It makes Tomura very aware of the fact that he doesn't usually do interrogations. This is none of the usual bullshit, talking around the point for ages. This is blunt and straight to the point.

Tomura gives a headshake.

Eraserhead waits, expectant.

Tomura thinks the hero is lucky he's bored and his is an innocent line of questioning and he actually respects Eraserhead. That's why he pulls his hand away from his neck and signs 'Sensei doesn't speak sign.'

"Who taught you, then?" Immediate, no hesitation. Why does he want to know this, of all things? Literally anything else would be more important. He may as well be asking how Tomura got so proficient at darts.

He sighs, and spells it out. 'K-U-R-O-G-I-R-I'

Eraserhead's brows draw together. "He taught you things? How long has he been around?"

Tomura presses his lips together and glares. Like hell is he giving them anything on the rest of the League. Especially Kurogiri.

The hero sighs. "Look, kid." Tomura scoffs.

"... Shigaraki. Back at the USJ, you used a name for me that's different from my official hero name. It's a name very few people know."

Now it's Tomura's turn to frown. He knows what the separate signs of Eraserhead's name mean, of course, and he's often thought they were odd, but seeing as his own sign name is also anything but villainous he didn't think he had room to judge.

'Your sign name?' he asks, 'Eraserhead?'

"No." The hero shakes his head and makes a series of signs. "Eraserhead." He then repeats the signs Tomura just used. "Shouta."

Oh. Well, that's awkward. Tomura gets the entirely absurd urge to apologize.

Having his sign name used by an enemy who very nearly killed him must be pretty uncomfortable for Eraser. Tomura would never want his enemies to know his own. It's private, and it was a gift that Kurogiri gave him. Even the rest of the League doesn't know it, they only know the one Tomura made up for himself, reusing the name of his quirk for it.

'Not many people know?' Tomura questions.

Eraserhead huffs. "Do I look like the kind of person who goes around sharing information like that?" Probably not, no.

Tomura nods. 'That's why you're here?'

"There's a lot that's odd about you, ki- Shigaraki. A lot that doesn't add up. This, in particular, is something that's been causing me some problems."

Oh.

Oh. Tomura can't help the laugh that breaks out of him, his voice returning only for the giggles that shake his shoulders. Eraserhead thought one of his trusted few had betrayed him. Had given the information to Tomura. That's too good. He almost wants to make him keep believing it. Or even tell him a lie, but, again, the detective is on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"I'm glad this is funny to you," Eraserhead says dryly, "Care to let me in on the joke?"

Tomura is still giggling when he signs, and maybe that's why he makes the mistake.

'Kurogiri taught me,' he says, 'But good to know I created some mistrust among you.'

Eraserhead is frozen in his seat. Even his quirk is inactive now, as Tomura suddenly realizes. He's held out pretty long. His eyes have got to hurt. Maybe Tomura can make him overextend himself. But there's too many guns nearby. Tranquilizers, no doubt. He wouldn't get very far, even if a kill or two would be satisfying.

'Can I have another juice box?' he asks, just to be difficult.

Eraserhead jerks out of his stupor. "Who... who did you say taught you?"

Did Tomura use Kurogiri's sign name on accident? Huh.

'K-U-R-O-G-I-R-I. Sign name: Kurogiri.' His hands form 'fluffy' and 'cloud' like they have a hundred thousand times. It's a cutesy name for someone who is not cutesy at all. But so is 'Dust Bunny' and so is 'Sleepy Cat'.

Eraserhead takes a shaky breath. His fingers are trembling when he signs 'Fluffy Cloud' himself. "Oboro," he says, "That's... what that... who that name belongs to. Shirakumo Oboro." He looks like he's very far away, but at the same time couldn't be more in the moment. He's pale, but his eyes are focused and dark. "Shigaraki. Tell me about Kurogiri."

It's in that moment that the door gets blown into pieces by a blast of blue flames.

And the shouting and running and destruction that follow don't really give them much more room for idle chit-chat.

#elflynns-horde-of-stuff #this has been sitting in my drafts for ages im so sorry #sign au #eraserhead is really going through it #man needs a break

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

looking for love.

[ read devil in a new suit ]

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. general. tags. none. kook’s just real cute, as per usual. wc. 1.5k. author note. @lcksndkys requested this and also, i just reaaaally wanted to make an edit showing kook’s tinder. lmao.

“Isn’t Tinder for, y’know, hookups?”

The question comes casual, innocent, with that round stare that always catches you off guard. If it were anyone else, you’d probably tear into him - berate him for his dated ideas of love.

Instead, you quirk a brow and roll your eyes, tossing a wayward crumb at him. Your companion huffs, indignant and yet still soft, mouth curling into the pout he always does when he’s embarrassed or put-off. Tattooed hands sweep across the front of his shirt, plucking the lint away to return the fabric to immaculate neatness.

“Is there something wrong with hookups, Jungkookie?” You’re daring him to voice his opinion, surprise you with whatever antiquated reasoning he has.

But of course, because he’s Jungkook, he’s too tender, too nice. His brow furrows, fingers knotting together as he finds his words. “I just— I just don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.” Broad shoulders roll, dislodge the lime cotton of his plaid from the mountainous frame of his body. When he speaks, he won’t quite meet your stare - of course - opting instead to focus on the lacquered wood grain of his coffee table. “Don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

It’s not what you’d expected - the farthest thing from the usual slut-shaming you tend to hear - but you’re not surprised. Can’t be, honestly.

“Baby.”

Jungkook’s head snaps up, big doe eyes bouncing to yours with a mixture of aghast and confusion. You’ve never used a pet name with him. You’ve barely been friends for a month. He’s about to rebuff you - or ask or dp something - when you cut him off.

“As in, you’re being a baby.”

You do take a little pride in how his expression breaks apart, crashes into a barricade of your words. He’s just so easy to tease, makes you laugh full-belly and unabashed when his ears tip red and the same colour ascends up the column of his throat.

(It’s always very cute, reminiscent of schoolyard teasing between friends. You’re careful never to dig too deeply, though. You don’t want any scars left behind, no gravel when he slips and falls.)

“I’m just being—”

“A baby.”

He huffs, scoffs, makes a bunch of noise that doesn’t amount to very much. Then he slips his phone out of his pocket and sets it between you, laid on the glass top of his coffee table. An offering - or a reluctant acceptance, if his expression is anything to go by.

“Fine. Go ahead.” Even as he speaks, it takes a moment for his hand to retract, fist itself back between his crossed legs.

“Passcode,” you prompt, tapping the screen with a neatly manicured nail.

He enters it. 0127. (A date?) As if he can read your mind: “It’s my mom’s birthday.” Of course it is.

You only shake your head, laughing sweetly. “Very on brand.” You don’t mean it harshly. Family’s important to you, and if his standing Sunday meals with his own are any indication, they are to him too.

“We’ll start with Tinder and see how that goes. I think you might have better luck on Bumble but…” It’s a sideways glance, peeked out from beneath the cascading curtain of hair that falls over your shoulder. You’re so shy is what you don’t say. You don’t want to discourage him when it’s taken you an entire month to get him to accept your help in the first place.

“But I’m a baby?” Luckily, Jungkook’s a good sport. (You’ve learnt that over the weeks. Sandwiched in between his bashfulness and his bunny smile, there’s a warmth he never seems to tamper down. That he has no interest in changing. You envy him that, at least a little bit.)

Rather than answer, you shrug, apologetic smile forming tiny and private across your lips.

He, for all his differences from you, gets what you mean. He doesn’t hold it against you.

“Okay, so—” You scoot closer - the edge of your baby toe brushes the soft soft soft material of his trousers - and you extend the phone between you. “You need to choose some photos you like. I’m not going to do it for you but I’ll help you narrow them down.”

You have a feeling he’ll need the help but you don’t necessarily want to force your own preferences on him. Compromise seems important when navigating the whole signing-your-friend-up-for-a-dating-app thing.

“Just any photos?” The iPhone looks so much smaller in his hands, thumb swiping through his photo library. (You can already tell you’re going to disagree on which pictures go up. Can feel it in your bones, tingling the tips of your fingers.)

“Yep. Just any.” You do your best not to backseat pick, leaning away from him as he continues with his selections. He’s already picked six of them. (Six? Six?! Who does he think he is— Brad Pitt?)

“Here.”

All at once, the device is back in your hands or rather, tossed in your lap. Less ceremonious than usual, decidedly more nervous. You want to tease him for this, too, but don’t. Bite back the mockery and swallow it down, focusing instead on the profile that glares back up at you.

Okay, so, not awful choices. There are at least two you insist upon: one with his tattoos on display and another in a pool. Both thirst traps in their own regard.

“I really like this—” You’re moving the photo to the first spot. “You look really good and it’s a clear photo, so no one’s going to think you’re catfishing.”

Jungkook blinks - channels Bambi the baby deer - and cocks his head. “Do people actually do that?”

You don’t mean to sound so exasperated. Really, you don’t. He’s just so… him. “All the time. Or they use really edited photos. Ones you can’t really see their faces in.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You almost pat him on the head. “Let’s use this one too.”

His response is immediate, as is the colour that presents itself across his neck, up over the apples of his cheeks. “I’d rather not.”

“Why’d you pick it then?”

“W-well—” You don't know how honest he’s being, whether he really doesn’t want to use it or if he’s afraid of being that guy. You’d bet good money it’s the latter. “Just—” You’re staring at him and he can’t look away. You can see how badly he wants to by how hard he’s biting his cheek, hollow formed by the motion. “Can we please pick something else?”

You relent with a huff, removing the pool photo from the running. “Fine.”

He’s trying to fix you with that awkward smile of his but you steadfastly ignore him. (He does it often, any time you have any sort of disagreement. It’s utterly unfair how well it works on you when you’d much rather just continue to give him a hard time.)

“Okay, what’s with all the group photos?” You count at least three and while he, admittedly, looks really good, it seems like overkill. “We’re trying to find you a girlfriend, not your friends.”

The poor boy’s perplexed, brow furrowing. “But they’re my friends.”

“And?”

“They’re a part of my life?”

“Okay and?”

“Can you stop doing that?”

“No.”

You’re both glaring at each other. It’s like siblings bickering (or an old married couple).

“You can keep one.” You’re being lenient, you think. “You don’t want to detract from you just so you can include your friends.” (And also, like, who cares. As a former Tinder user, one of your biggest pet peeves had been people who messaged you about your friends.)

“Fine.” Of course, he’s pouting. You don’t care.

“Let’s go with these three.” The screen is tilted toward him - not offered enough that he can snatch it away - but so he can see. You’re running this show, after all.

“Deal.”

“Wait, are these from the same day? That’s kind of—”

Jungkook wails a noise you’ve never heard before, equal parts faux frustration and amused desperation. It screws up his nose and makes little crow’s feet appear at the corners of his eyes. “Stoooop, please.”

Now it’s your turn to huff.

“What else do I need?”

“A bio.”

The last thing you expect is for him to pull his phone from your grasp, as if he’s been waiting for this moment all afternoon. (Maybe he really had wanted to join Tinder? Had you been hoodwinked? Bamboozled? Had Jeon Jungkook played you like a fiddle?)

Something like disbelief colours your expression when he presents his cool new bio to you, the absolute dumbest smile on his face. Reading it flips your features and rearranges them into a mask of shock. (That and disdain. It’s not a bad bio, per se, but it’s—

Well, it does fit Jungkook. You can’t deny that.)

“Nice guy with nice dreams it is.”

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle

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fandom-monium · 3 years

Text

For the Holidays - Part 5

Summary: In which there is no forgiveness or grudges. Only chance. “Okay, let’s try.”

WC: 1.3k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating, pining (so much pining), fluff, slight angst but not from unnecessary trauma, emotional-support Reader, reunion arc, song fic, FINAL PART

I can deal with the bad nights When I'm with my baby, yeah Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

“So, what’s the plan?”

Spencer runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure.”

He really isn’t. But that’s because he isn’t thinking.

It’s not often a brilliant mind like Spencer’s, usually if not always running, finds itself in a deep lull. For once, he’s not contemplating his next step or calculating how to get the best possible outcome. He’s not sprinting to be productive.

He’s just… existing.

What a rarity.

In the dark, deserted library time has slowed to a stop. If cheery holiday tunes and the murmur of guests didn't continue to float down the halls, it's almost like you're in your own little time pocket. He imagines this is an alternate reality, one consisting of only the two of you; there's no unsubs to hurt you or tear you apart, rip you away from each other when you’re just within reach. It’s just the two of you, existing together.

Add the catharsis of crying and you warm against his side, it's the perfect sedative. He's completely lethargic.

He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Unfortunately, no matter how much he wants to stay, all good things come to an end. Your little bubble pops when thunder crackles outside.

You watch him carefully. "Are you... ready to head back?"

Spencer nearly gives himself whiplash, snapping his head to you. You wince, not needing to see his face, hearing the betrayal in his voice. "What? Why would I want to go back?”

“Hey, it’s just a suggestion,” You put your hands up in defense, voice thoughtful as you shrug. “We did come for a reason, and here they are on a silver platter. I know it's not going exactly as you imagined it but—”

“Are you saying I should forgive them?” Forgive comes in a hiss.

You grimace. “What? No, that's not what I was saying. You heard Alexa.”

He glances away, and he knows you catch the slight turn of his head because you’re a profiler and you’re trained. He’s embarrassed; he’d been blindsided, disoriented, by his own rage and confusion that he couldn’t register anything passed ‘sorry’.

Understandable. You’d probably go into shock too if your childhood bullies dropped the retribution bomb over a decade later.

You continue, “Well if you'd been listening, you'd know they want to try to get to know you. Or at least understand you? I kind of get where they're coming from, but I don't think it'll do harm to give them a chance."

After a moment of deliberation, Spencer groans, "How is it between the two of us, you're the voice of reason?"

"Ha ha. Just because you're the genius doesn't make you always right."

"I never said I am!"

"Yeah but you were thinking it. Now come on, let's head back," You stand up and offer your hand. There’s a flash of lightning, and for a second he catches your eyes, steadfast and dancing in the dark. Maybe you didn’t give him an award-winning pep-talk, but the way you look at him makes him feel like he can survive the night at least.

You make him feel strong.

Here you are, in this dusty library. He’s had two break downs since arriving and you didn’t even blink.

You’ve matched him step for step, never faltering.

Another streak flashes from the window, and your lips curl into a shadow of a smile. "Operation: Holidate is a go."

Maybe. Just maybe he can match yours.

Yes. If he can survive tonight, everything will be fine. It’s the least he can do, making you come all this way. Make your time here worth while.

And who knows? He might actually gain something from all this.

Taking your hand, Spencer gives in and you pull him up. He lets you guide him back to the entrance, your footsteps echoing through the hall as you make your way to the gym, music pounding over the rumbling thunder.

He doesn't let go. If you're bothered you say nothing.

—

"So Holidate? Is that what you're calling this?"

“Okay, you know what, Doctor? I’d like to see you come up with a better name.”

“Well—”

“That doesn’t involve some obscure reference to literature or philosophy or Star Trek.”

“Actually, I was going to suggest-”

“Or Doctor Who.”

“... Holidate it is.”

—

Christmas music fills the gym. The night has turned the elegance of the reunion into a nightclub as people dance with drunken laughter and off-key singing, and as far as you can tell, the group hadn't left the table, shouting over the music and exchanging hesitant looks. They have the decency to stand as you approach.

Spencer clutches your hand and you squeeze it. He squeezes back.

Harper opens her mouth, "Reid—"

"Before you say anything," Spencer clears his throat, gathering his thoughts. "I'm... sorry for what I said before. Not that it didn't need to be said, but I could have worded things better and I shouldn't have lashed out the way I did." Brown eyes harden, distrustful and terrified. "Did you mean what you said before? About making amends and trying to become friends?"

With a collective murmur, they nod, "Yes."

"And you understand I don't have to accept your apology. That I don't have to forgive you?"

"Yes, of course."

Pain flits across Alexa, Harper, and the team's faces, expressions grim. As if they don't like the possibility he won't forgive them but know better than to argue. That he at least has the right. Good.

Spencer's eyes roam over them. And under tinted lights he sees them. He doesn’t feel like he’s been dropped back in time. He's no longer twelve and they're no longer teenagers. Formal dresses and suits don’t seem as strange on them anymore. His suit doesn't feel like it hangs off him, suddenly fitting, the watch over his sleeve nice and snug around his wrist, and his slacks less baggy.

They're adults; they've learned from their mistakes and are mature enough to own up to them. Mature enough to confront them.

Spencer swallows, takes a breath, before gripping your hand tighter. The storm roars above you, drowned out by With You This Christmas.

"Okay. Let's try."

Strange, the words leaving his lips a weight lifting off their shoulders. There's sighs of relief, and you take your seats at the table.

He feels your hand shift in his. You haven't let go since you dragged him out the library, his safe haven—God, how he misses it already—and his heart sighs as your thumb circles the back of his hand comfortingly.

So what if it's awkward? So what if it's uncomfortable and tense? So what if he wants to make a dash for the nearest exit?

Spencer knows this will be hard, the road to forgiveness. A part of him doesn't even want to try.

But as you meet his eyes and give him a reassuring smile, seemingly unbothered by his sweaty palms, Spencer tries to relax. Under your warm gaze every muscle, every part of him wound tight like a spring trap ready to go off seems to release.

You look at him like he can carry the world on his shoulders. If you asked him to, he certainly would try.

And he realizes it won't be so bad because you're here. You are here, you have no intention of leaving, and he has your full support.

Spencer can't think of a better person he'd rather have his back. No matter what happens, it'll be fine, as long as he's by your side.

Even if it’s just for the holidays.

AN: Status: Finished - 5/5. Open ending unlocked.

Yes, I did drop that title.

I remember bopping to I Don’t Care by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber and thinking this would be a good song fic for Spencer if he went to his hs reunion. Then this baby came along. Initially, it was supposed to be a one-shot but after 8k i thought it was better as a mini series.

I’m quite proud, leaving the ending open. Whether he forgives them or not is up to yall.

The fake dating was always a bi-product to the plot! This was supposed to be about confronting his past okay.

Thank you for reading! See you in my next mini series!!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg x y/n #mgg imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg fic #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds

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takaraphoenix · 3 years

Text

My Sanctuary (You're Holy to Me)

Fandom: Shadow and Bone / Grishaverse

Tags: f/f, fluff, awkward courting

Main Pairing: Alina/Inej

Summary: When everything was said and done, Alina and Mal didn't quite know where to go. So why not follow the very pretty assassin and her two friends. Not that Alina had a crush or anything.

Link: On FFNet | On AO3

“Wherever you are, whatever you need... My hand is yours.”

Alina was too gay for this. She simply stared with large eyes at the beautiful woman next to her, with the warm, dark eyes and the kind, sweet smile. It wasn't new to Alina that she liked boys and girls; she had had a crush on Genya at the Little Castle and then dating Aleksander... No. Not thinking about that, not thinking about all that had gone done, how things had ended. The pain.

Her mind snapped back into focus. Focusing on the now, on Inej next to her. She was... beautiful and fierce, dangerous and yet soft and merciful. The one who had let Alina get away, when Kaz still seemed very set on capturing her. Inej had saved her life. Like a beautiful woman didn't make her weak enough as it was, but the way Inej looked at her and those words. That downright sounded like a proposal; Alina had heard less romantic proposals before. What was she supposed to say to that? How was she supposed to react to these words, spoken so honestly? Because Alina could hear it in Inej's voice, pure and raw honesty. Whatever Alina needed, Inej would be there.

“I think I like that hand with a dagger in it,” said Alina when she finally found words. “I couldn't hold onto yours, so take mine.”

It was the best thing she could think of. Inej didn't seem like the kind of girl swayed by flowers. She seemed like the kind of girl who'd love knives. Just, in general. As accessories and gifts. The way Inej looked at her told Alina that her hunch was right. Such a blinding smile.

“I know just what to name it,” declared Inej with the brightest, cutest smile on her lips.

Alina's stomach fluttered at the way Inej looked at her. Many people looked at her as a saint, as a savior, as the Sun Summoner. But Inej, she... looked at her like all of that and so much more. She looked at her as Alina the Sun Summoner, as though she could see Alina. Could see that there was a person underneath the mantle of sainthood. It was nice feeling seen, as a person.

/break\

The Sun Summoner had never been graspable for Inej. They were this almighty figure, this holy savior. And when she first saw the Sun Summoner at the party, in those beautiful robes, all regal and disciplined. Truly, the vision of a saint. And then... she interacted with Sankta Alina and the Sun Summoner became... Alina Starkov, slowly. Talking to her, seeing her up close – disheveled, not in royally regal clothing, not putting on a show, but... being human. Admittedly, at that point Inej was still very far from actually thinking of Sankta Alina as inherently human, but it was still startling to realize that this figure she had believed in all her life was real and was a real person.

She flushed as she remembered her own words, at the camp-fire. Promising Alina her hand in whatever Alina could possibly want or need. She had babbled. That wasn't her, neither were grand promises. But looking into Alina's eyes, it nearly felt as though the world melted away and Inej was ready to fight it all for her sake and safety. And then Alina had given her a knife. A knife. From the Sun Summoner herself. This was going to be Inej's most cherished knife now.

Inej felt torn in her calling. Her loyalty laid with Kaz, and with Jesper. The Crows were her family. But Alina was – Alina was... everything. There were no words. She was the Sun Summoner. She was Sankta Alina. She was so much more. She was everything and Inej knew she could never turn her back on Alina and she also knew every word she had told Alina was true. Whatever Alina would ask, whenever she would ask it, Inej would be there for her.

“Where are you going now?” asked Jesper ahead of them.

She had just talked to Kaz and the two had fallen back a bit. Jesper was walking next to Mal and Alina. While Zoya had parted ways with them rather quickly after the camp fire, it seemed the other two were headed the same way as them. It made Inej's heart race for some reason.

“Ketterdam. For now. We talked about wanting to see it. It's... as good a start as any,” offered Mal.

“I figured I could train everywhere. So... why not go and see something new?” added Alina.

Inej's heart was racing in her chest at that thought and she found herself looking toward Kaz, hopeful. Hopeful for what exactly, she didn't know. He tried to look as stern as possible, which was quite a lot. Without thinking on it, Inej opened her mouth, on instinct.

“You told me you invest in one of a kind. There is no one more one of a kind than the Sun Summoner,” whispered Inej, holding Kaz' gaze firmly.

There was the smallest hint of a smile on Kaz' lips as he huffed, though he did not reply. Instead, he tapped his cane on the ground, in a manner that drew Jesper's attention immediately.

“We're going to take a detour before we depart,” declared Kaz without further explanation.

Glances were exchanged – Jesper looked at Inej curiously, Mal and Alina had a silent conversation with looks alone. Kaz remained quiet, not elaborating at all, simply leading the way. Inej and Jesper followed him, blindly. Though Mal and Alina also followed them, perhaps simply lost.

/break\

The detour led them to a barmaid and to a goat. The sounds Jesper made when he got to hug Milo again were a bit embarrassing. At least he wasn't the only one; for some reason, Mal made similar sounds as he also hugged the goat. Perhaps it was a sign of sorts, that one goat tied them together. It had saved them – in a way, if Jesper had kept freaking out, Inej doubted that they would have made their way through the fold in one piece – and it had apparently helped Mal too.

Inej wasn't sure, but it seemed like the goat was the final, uniting factor. Mal and Alina joined them on their way back to Ketterdam. The five of them (and the goat) sat together on the ship. Jesper, happy with his goat, sat next to Kaz. Very close to Kaz, though not touching. Inej saw the tenderness in Kaz' eyes, regardless of how much he tried to hide it. He'd always had a soft spot for Jesper, even if he had very unconventional ways of showing it. Like by buying Jesper a goat.

On Jesper's other side sat Mal, so both men could cuddle the goat. Alina sat opposite Mal and Inej sat opposite Jesper and Kaz. Meaning Inej sat next to Alina. For hours.

She left a little space between the two of them at the beginning of the journey, though she couldn't help but keep looking at Alina and slowly inching closer the longer they traveled. Alina covered herself with a shawl, just in case anyone would recognize her as the Sun Summoner. Laying low was a very good idea. Was there a lower to lay than with the Crows...? Though it was only at the end of their journey, as they reached their destination, that Inej found it in herself to voice it.

“What will you do in Ketterdam?” asked Inej, her voice soft.

“I... Train?” guessed Alina with a thoughtful expression. “Gamble? Take in the sights?”

“If you want to be useful and earn some money. Find us,” Kaz made it sound like an order.

Inej was not the only one surprised by that, though she smiled, pleased. For now, they had their own business to sort out first. The three of them headed off, toward the club, not looking as mysterious and dangerous as they usually did, because... there was a baby goat skipping along next to them.

/break\

For a few weeks, Mal and Alina hid away together. He got a job at a bar to earn them enough money to support them. They thought it would be best for Alina to not be too public; just in case. Even though the chances of someone recognizing her as the Sun Summoner here were incredibly low. But after a while, it got kind of boring. And when Mal lost his job, because he had lost his temper with a customer who was more than just rude toward Alina, they made their way to the Crow Club. Ever since they had parted ways, they hadn't seen the three again. In passing, Alina thought she had seen Jesper or Inej one or two times. She knew Mal would occasionally sneak off to visit the goat – she still didn't quite understand the whole goat-thing, but Mal was very happy about it. He's always liked small, cuddle-able animal, though goats were bigger than bunnies.

“You came,” Inej's voice was a whisper and it came out of nowhere.

Alina could have sworn Inej was nowhere in sight when Alina and Mal had entered. Yet suddenly, she was right behind Alina. And she was still as pretty. For a moment, Alina stared in awe at her beauty. All words lost to her. She also lost Mal; he spotted Jesper at a poker table, with the goat on his lap. For a second, Alina smiled as she watched her childhood friend hug Milo the goat.

“I... yes. I don't know... much about what you guys do. But... if we can be useful. We could... use the money. And... I... missed you,” blurted Alina out.

Well, that was elegant. She shouldn't have put everything into that one sentence. She was normally not this awkward around people she had feelings for. But then again, no one had ever pledged loyalty and devotion to her the way Inej had. How was she supposed to be not awkward after that? Her cheeks felt warm, but the genuinely surprised and happy look on Inej's face made it worth it.

“I'm... sure we will be able to find use for you, and for the tracker,” assured Inej.

She slipped her hand into Alina's, seemingly without even thinking about it herself. It seemed to come so easily and naturally to them, just as it had at the fire-place. It was strange, how often Alina thought of that short moment, but it had been the first moment of serene peace in a while. Alina smiled to herself as she let Inej lead her toward Kaz' office.

/break\

Inej had always known that the Sun Summoner would bring peace, but she had not expected it would be her own personal peace. Being with Alina made her feel like nothing before had. It took many more weeks of shared missions and laughter before Inej understood that it was more than simple sainthood – Alina had become Inej's personal sanctuary. Her own peace and comfort and warmth and light. Hers. And, mesmerizingly enough, she had become Alina's.

“Good morning,” whispered Alina with a smile as she brushed Inej's hair out of her face.

They had shared their first kiss after an exhilarating mission, adrenaline and laughter fueling them. And now, Inej got to wake up to that face, that smile. And she had never felt that alive before. Reaching out, Inej cupped her face and brought it close enough to kiss her gently.

~*~ The End ~*~

#Alinej #Inej x Alina #Inej Ghafa #Alina Starkov #Shadow and Bone #Fanfiction #Fluff #Falling in Love

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