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karlyfr13s · 3 years

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Oathkeeper Chapter 2

It was supposed to be a CS one-shot, but then the CSMM crew got ahold of me and now we’re in multi-chapter mode. Thanks to the ladies for their inspiration, enabling, and cheering me on. Looking at you @teamhook, @caught-in-the-filter, @hollyethecurious, @gingerpolyglot (tell me if you want added, and coach the newbie in where these actually belong).

A HUGE thank you to @veryverynotgood who is the most radiant beta and gives me flails that keep me going through the self-doubt.

Links in case you missed Chapter 1 or prefer to read on ao3

Note: the rating is now M due to violent imagery.

Killian’s first week in Storybrooke was unconventional and more than a little confusing. Everyone in the whole bloody town seemed related, or at least so interconnected there may as well be blood involved; it drew attention to him and he spent most days certain he was being watched.

Certainly there were fewer eyes on him than on the young Lost Boy, Felix, and for that Killian was grateful. He observed the woman everyone called Granny as she put the lad to work with a nearly endless list of chores, always under her watchful, scrutinizing eye. In want of conversation one evening, he’d inquired about the choice to take on someone such as Felix. That had earned him a derisive snort and an eye-roll that rivaled Emma Swan’s when Granny explained in no uncertain terms that she was well-equipped for the job.

“Listen, Captain,” she leaned on the bar as he sipped a rum, “if I can raise Ruby through puberty as a damn wolf, I can handle one scrappy Lost Boy. What he needs is a strong guiding hand, and a good dose of responsibility--that Pan let those kids run wild.” Killian tipped his glass to her at that assessment, knowing all too clearly how the lads were deceived and used throughout their time in Neverland. “Structure, Hoo--it’s Killian, right?” she amended quickly. “Kids need structure and routine. You’d do well to remember that.”

Not for the first time, Killian wondered exactly how much Granny overheard and knew as she watched her patrons come and go. In fact, she was the only one in town who referred to him by his given name, most simply opting for Hook or Captain if they were being pleasant. Or ‘the pirate’ if they happen to be Emma’s father, he added. His ponderance was abruptly interrupted when the door crashed open and an exasperated looking Emma quickly crossed to the bar and sank down one stool from his own.

“This one calls for a whisky on the rocks, Granny,” she huffed, casting a sidelong glance at Killian’s own glass. “You too, huh? Must be going around today.” He watched as she shucked her red leather jacket, tossing it aside on the barstool between them and he gave her a moment, offering a quick clink of his glass once her own libation arrived.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Killian kept his voice light, noting the tension in the set of her shoulders and jaw.

She heaved a sigh and he made a valiant effort to focus on her stunning green eyes rather than the assets her movements showcased in that moment. “The short version? I’m sick of my mother,” she tripped on the word, “trying to be my life coach. I’m tired of inane ‘loitering’ reports from the surliest dwarf, and I cannot seem to get--” her momentum was immediately interrupted by the door and a sudden call across the diner.

“Ems, there you are!”

“--a single minute of quiet,” Emma finished lowly while Neal sauntered over and leaned against the counter, placing himself between Killian and her.

“So, I was thinking we could grab dinner. You know, you, me and Henry? Or maybe just you and me if Regina has--”

“Neal, I’ve had a long day. I am going to enjoy this drink, maybe a second, and then I am eating whatever I rummage out of the pantry at Mary Margaret’s since she and David are out on a date.”

“So you have the place to yourself?”

Killian understood the insinuation and clenched his jaw. He started counting backward from ten while he listened to Emma try to redirect Neal’s plans, and when he heard the other man’s second attempt to garner an invitation he reset the clock and started the count at twenty. Perhaps she cares for him, he reminded himself. She is tired and had a difficult day, but that does not mean she has chosen not to be with--

Her voice was suddenly raised and Killian felt like he was about four steps behind the conversation as he snapped to attention on the words she spat at the man across from her.

“Just go-- go, Neal. This isn’t happening. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. It is not happening .” Whatever expression she held in that moment must have been truly glorious to earn Neal’s melodramatic scoff as he stormed out the diner and slammed the door behind him.

Granny simply poured a healthy splash of whisky in Emma’s glass in reply before shuffling back to the kitchen as she had witnessed the whole interaction mere steps from Killian, who just now was actively working to control both his expression and the thoughts wheeling through his mind at her parting shot. What exactly was not happening between them? Where did that leave him?

Killian glanced over at Emma, her eyes ablaze as if challenging him to comment on the interaction. “Darts are quiet,” he offered congenially, smiling what he considered his most winning grin.

That earned him a quick bark of laughter. “And a little violent,” she smirked.

“Aye, that too, Swan.”

She held up her glass and they shared their second silent toast of the evening. “I could use a little of both,” she added as she got up, glass in hand and the beginnings of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

“I hear rumor they even sell food at this establishment,” Killian pressed his luck a bit as they collected the two sets of darts and set up.

“You don’t say?” She shook her head at him and he watched her consider the offer. “Loser buys?”

“Of course, love.” He sketched her a bow, flourishing his hand and making a show of it to cover up his surprise.

“Not your love,” she retorted, sinking a bullseye on her first try while Killian considered how grateful he was that Granny accepted doubloons. Where had she learned to play like this?

...

Granny hollered last call only moments after Emma bid Killian goodnight, a lightness to her steps as he watched her go. “Looks like that went well,” Granny called over as she wiped down the last table.

“Aye,” he tossed Granny a wink, “and she stayed for three games. And dessert.”

For the life of him, Killian couldn’t decipher Granny’s laugh at this simple observation until the double-entendre dawned on him at last. He was tired and perhaps he’d imbibed one too many glasses if he was the one missing the joke...it was then he noticed Emma’s jacket still laying across the barstool where she’d first dropped it.

“Seven hells,” he took off to the sound of Granny’s whooping call as she warned him the sheriff walked fast and he’d better work for it. Work for what exactly? Killian mused as he jogged out into the night, no easy feat in full leathers with more than a bit of drink in him. He spotted her golden hair in the lamplight down the street and called out, thinking it the better option than startling her.

She spun on her heel, wobbled slightly, and burst into laughter as she leaned against the lamppost for support--clearly he wasn’t the only to enjoy one too many this evening. Ever the gentleman, Killian held her jacket out and ignored her comment about being chased down Main Street by a pirate.

“Princess,” he began, calling far too loudly given the hour, “chivalry demands I return your cloak, lest you catch a chill on this dark night.” She shushed him less than successfully as she giggled and fell into step beside him-- Emma Swan can giggle, he mused. “As well,” he continued, voice full volume and bordering on a bellow, “I must see you safely to your door. No doubt there are ruffians about, and all manor of unsavory ne’er-do-wells, all seeking mischief against such an elegant,” he chuckled as she staggered slightly, “and graceful lady as thee.”

“You’re such an idiot, shut up! Do you want the whole neighborhood awake?” Her scolding was half-hearted at best considering her idea of a whisper could likely be heard across the street.

“Do you think they’ll call the sheriff, love” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she swatted his chest. “Surely you wouldn’t throw a man in the brig for an act of noblest courtesy,” at that he draped her jacket over her shoulders while she led the way and proceeded to spin a tale of his own unimpeachable valor as a young sailor. When they reached her dwelling, she turned to face him before heading up.

“Why do you always get it? Nobody gets it.” He raised a brow at her question. “Gets me. Like Neal,” she slurred the name and rolled her eyes. “I have a shitty day at work and he decides to make some weird pass at me through the kid ? But you,” she leaned in and poked Killian in the chest, keeping her index finger pressed against his sternum. “You’re the...the flirty pirate king and you just...throw sharp shit at a wall with me and buy me drinks. You didn’t even check out my ass more than once.”

He absolutely had, but far be it for Killian to correct the lady when this seemed to be going somewhere rather interesting.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she slurred.

Before he could suggest this was likely a bad idea as she would potentially regret whatever her next words were to be, she pulled him down by one of his coat lapels and whispered loudly, “My mom is Snow White, right? So she’s all about ‘true love’ and ‘happily ever after’,” her whisper became what he thought was an imitation of her mother, though he doubted that Snow White had ever been six whiskies and two rums deep.

“So she thinks that Neal is like...my Prince Charming, but here’s the secret: he’s not a prince! He’s a con-man, and he sure as hell isn’t charming. So whoops, Mom! Wrong bet!” She laughed and let go of his coat, poking the end of his nose and whispering something that sounded like the noise boop in the most infuriatingly impossible-to-understand gesture he’s witnessed yet. She gave him a glassy-eyed smile, and in a parting shot that left him speechless, she cupped his cheek and in a much softer tone murmured, “Goodnight, Killian.”

---

The morning arrived after less rest than he’d like, but Killian snapped awake as the sky first began to turn a dusty rose on the horizon. This was very likely the best mood he’d found himself in for quite some time, and he mused on the past twelve hours as he fiddled with the magic hot-water dispenser until he got the temperature just right. Unlike the Jolly , Granny’s provisions in terms of hygiene were lavish and he assumed they cost her a small fortune if Ruby and the guests enjoyed them as much as he did, but Granny assured him the soaps and amenities were provided, so he took great joy in letting the warm water run over him as he lathered up, breathing in the herbal and lemon scent so unlike the harsh lye soap he was accustomed to. This world without magic had its charms, and hot water on demand was his latest favorite.

He arrived downstairs for his other new-world favorite - coffee - and Killian was pleased to see Emma already at the counter, though she looked a great deal less chipper than he felt. “Good morning, Swan,” he sauntered up to take a seat at her left. “Beautiful morning, don’t you think?”

She grumbled something about a headache and before Killian could reply, Granny swooped in and all but insisted she sit and have breakfast. Despite her protests, Emma wound up delayed in her arrival to her post that morning as she was cajoled into a substantial pile of eggs, bacon, and toast. “Complain all you want, Sheriff,” Granny eyed her as she set a matching plate before Killian, “but you two need to soak up some of last night’s fun. Now, eat.” After obligingly refilling their mugs with steaming hot coffee, to which Emma added more than a bit of cream and sugar, Granny retreated to another table as the morning rush filled in around them.

They ate in companionable silence until Emma glanced over and opened with, “I beat you at darts, didn’t I?”

“Aye, two wins to my paltry one, Swan. I’m only grateful we chose not to wager more than dinner and drinks on the game, or my pockets would be a great deal more empty.” She smirked at his comment, and the two chatted as they worked through their breakfasts, both seeming to come alive as Granny had predicted.

He should have known it was all going far too well.

The bell above the door chimed, and the bustle of the patrons picking up coffee and pastries on their way to work or leisurely enjoying their breakfasts fell to a whisper. Killian stayed perfectly still as he heard the man limp toward the counter, the gentle thud of his cane giving him away. From the corner of his eye, he saw Emma roll her eyes at his clipped “Miss Swan,” and Killian stayed frozen to the spot, not trusting his reaction in front of the woman who not only was increasingly important in his life--a thought he’d sort out, or studiously avoid, later--but also represented the local law enforcement.

He heard few of the words exchanged between the Crocodile and Granny, though neither appeared pleased to be having the conversation. Instead, his pulse pounded in his head and his vision clouded as he clutched the edge of the counter. Killian had the distinct image of grabbing that gold-topped cane and flipping it, beating the man about the head until nothing recognizable remained. Until the gold handle dripped red. He could leave him on the floor of this place, twitching as the last impulses of his brain forced him to dance to a soundless tune; Killian could simply walk to the Jolly and set sail, free of the memory of this vile excuse for a man.

Except that he could do no such thing. He sat next to the sheriff in a small town diner surrounded by people who already distrusted him to varying degrees. He was trapped in a land that was not his own and had no way-- nor will --to return to his own. He was a captain without a crew, and as his mind raced through the numerous ways he could rid himself of this loathsome creature he knew now was not the time and certainly not the place. Simply put, Killian refused to put Emma in a position where she would be forced to see the darkness that lurked within him. So he let it pass, and let the Crocodile go for today.

It wasn’t long after the disruption that Emma took her leave, and Killian lingered at the counter as he mulled over what to do with his day. Most days he helped Granny with the more physically demanding repairs around the place, but he felt caged and in need of something more challenging.

“Appreciate you not taking his head off in my diner,” Granny remarked banally once the place emptied. “You have any idea what it takes to get blood out of white grout? Oh, don’t look so surprised; nothing smells quite like fear and rage rolled up in one, and I could smell yours from across the damn room.” She waved dismissively and filled two mugs, sliding one to him and keeping the other for herself. “It’s hot chocolate, and you need it. Little liquid comfort never hurt anyone, so drink up and tell me about it.”

He sipped hesitantly, but the woman was certainly right about the comforting power of the elixir before him. Killian thought about his next words as he breathed in the sweet steam from his mug, letting the cup warm his hand as he held it. “You could...smell my emotions?” He felt it best to begin with the obvious inquiry and prolong the tale of his darkest day.

“I could also hear your heart-rate skyrocket the second you knew who came through that door, so I’m guessing there’s some history there. You don’t have to tell me everything, Killian, but I need to know if I can trust you when you’re in here. Gold comes in to collect rent monthly, and every now and again he has lunch as well. I need to know you’re not going to take a kitchen knife to the bastard while I’m serving sandwiches.” She levelled a scrutinizing gaze at him and waited.

Killian set down his mug and scrubbed his hand over his face, realizing he was in need of a shave, then realizing he was further delaying the conversation. He sighed, knowing there was only one right way forward. “I will not spill his blood on your grounds, Granny, not unless he spills mine first. You have my word.” She nodded once, waiting for him to continue. And so he spent the sunny morning explaining how he lost his hand to the Dark One. While Killian left out much of the story of Milah, he could not entirely avoid her role in the tale, explaining simply that the man she knew as Gold had killed the woman Killian loved right in front of his eyes. Granny was sympathetic and asked few questions, letting him choose how much to reveal. It was cathartic, in a way - a chance to tell someone this piece of truth. A chance to be heard.

When they were finished, Granny spoke briefly of her wolfish nature, a truth which Killian enjoyed as it made her acute hearing and perceptiveness make far more sense. “I know your heart-rate also picks up around a certain sheriff,” she added as Killian slipped on his greatcoat, readying himself to find busywork on the Jolly . “And I know hers does around you.” She eyed him closely then, searching for he knew not what. “Be careful with her, Killian. I don’t know everything--I’m not sure anyone does--but I can see enough to know she’s been hurt, and that hurt hasn’t fully healed. In fact, I’m damn sure the source of it just waltzed back into her life.”

He nodded his understanding and left her to her work. Given the woman’s preternatural understanding of her patrons, he was not about to argue. He chewed her words over in his mind repeatedly as he spent the rest of the day checking that everything aboard his beloved Jolly was in tip-top shape. While his life may be constant chaos in this world, at least he could be assured his ship was as perfect as ever.

#cs au #captain swan #cs ff #csmm #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan au #karly tries her hand at writing

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paperbagpetrichor · 4 years

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Somewhere an article read that if Dio survived long enough to know about Giorno he would have killed his mother and step father and taken Gio in, may I please get a small scenario where Dio takes Gio home and a Gio is terrified Dio’s wife won’t like him but she (kind bubbly caring and motherly) immediately throws her arms open and cries “MY BABY BOY!” And won’t stop kissing his face and steals her attention away from Dio whom becomes a pouty baby please and thank you sweetheart!

[ Oh my god please little Gio. Little Gio and reader as Dio’s wife? Little Gio with a better childhood? That is all. Yes please. ]

Giorno Giovanna did not - or perhaps he could not - remember much of his early life. The farthest back his mind could reach was to a dark, rainy evening, one where thunder had rumbled so loud it shook the ground as though an earthquake and lightning struck the ground in dizzying patches of heat, bolting down throughout all of Italy as the winds of the Mediterranean pushed the storm onwards, deeper into the country, growing a mile a minute. He’d been trying to sleep. With his favorite plush animal, he’d pulled the covers up over his head, trying his hardest not to let the rash sounds overwhelm him but trembling nonetheless, eyes wide open, seeing nothing but black save for the occasional illumination that sparked from the clouds. Nobody had come to him. Not his stepfather, nor even his own mother. As for his real father...well, he’d never met the man. At least, not until that night, when, as the storm picked up, violently thrashing rain against the windows with such strength it was a wonder they didn’t shatter to pieces, an unfamiliar voice had resounded softly within his ear.

“You’re alright now, Giorno.” It was deep, commanding, but with a strange twinge of care just barely noticeable. As he was still under the covers, now completely and absolutely terrified, clutching at the fabric with desperate hands and wishing he was anywhere else but there, all he could tell was that the man had moved to his bedside by the sound of increasing footfalls. “Nothing will hurt you. Not while I, your father, am here.”

And thus began his new life. His mother and father had gotten lost from work on the way home that night, but Dio - Giorno’s father - had finally returned. Now he resided with his father in a spacious, expensive home, straight in the middle of a prosperous portion of Naples. Through their years together, Giorno had learned that his father had been a wealthy lawyer in both England and Japan. The profession still provided for him now, albeit Giorno rarely ever heard his father talk about his work. The boy couldn’t ever catch a glimpse of the cases Dio was supposed to be arguing on the television. But he had learned quickly that although his father did love him, he was even more strict, sometimes seeming domineering or occasionally outright mean with scolding, should his son find himself in places he wasn’t supposed to venture, or performing activities deemed punishable. Giorno loved Dio. But he would be lying if he said that he didn’t miss his mother. So, when one day, his father began speaking of a woman and her captivating beauty, he naturally grew curious. He asked, over and over, what the woman was like, how his father had met her, how she looked, what she liked, how well the two of them knew one another. Over time the questions became more and more incessant, with each query resulting in nothing but commands or reprimands from his father. But equally over time Dio was home less and less. Sometimes, he would be gone for hours, or a day. Often he would vanish at night, while Giorno was asleep, but often strayed well into the afternoon. Giorno grew worried. What if another storm happened, like the one that had caught his first family, and his father was lost, too? Who would take care of him then? This fear only tripled as days turned to weeks. But finally, upon asking one day, gathering up the courage for a scolding, after managing to catch his father, he had asked where the man was going.

Something about Dio’s nature appeared to have changed, or at least been altered to some degree. Giorno had always known his father as a logical and focused man, but as of late he had begun to forget things, or seemingly get lost in his own thoughts. All that Dio replied with was a dismissive, “Go back inside,” before his voice softened and something like - was that a smile? - formed on his lips. “I’ve a present for you tomorrow. Don’t make me postpone it.”

The next day, the two of them spent all cloudy afternoon and evening going shopping. Giorno felt it was a rather odd present, but nevertheless enjoyed the times where he’d point out something he liked and his father would purchase it for him. Perhaps these were the gifts? He was content with the idea that they were as the both of them made their way back to the car, especially as his father let him ride shotgun, but shortly after the car was in action this idea was debunked.

“[Y/n] is waiting for us at home. She really wanted to meet you today, Giorno. After all, she is your new mother.”

Giorno’s eyes flew open in shock. [Y/n]? As in, [y/n] [l/n], the woman that his father had always talked about? That [y/n]? A-and wait, did he just say she was his new mom? Despite how hard he bit it back, the question escaped him. “My - my mom?”

Dio nodded, eyes never leaving the road. “She only found out about you yesterday, but she said she couldn’t go any longer without meeting you.”

“Go any longer with what?”

“Oh, I mustn’t have told you. [Y/n] and I are engaged, Giorno.” He paused for a minute as he saw his son’s jaw drop from the corner of his eye, theorizing the dynamic his beloved son would have with his beloved [y/n]. You’d always been very caring, a kind and intelligent woman who kept herself well put-together, sensible and levelheaded, but the way that your eyes had grown wide as moons albeit far more beautiful, the gasp of surprise escaping your wide-opened mouth, staring in shock at him, breathless for a moment before you’d thrown your arms around him, the greatest smile Dio had ever seen emerging on your face, voice stuck somewhere between absolute surprise and absolute joy, barely able to speak as you begged your heart out to meet the young boy that Dio had just now informed was his son. In every sense, you were completely overwhelmed. You would have a little boy running around the house now. It wasn’t just you and Dio destined to live as a couple, but you, Dio, and Giorno, a true family, undoubtedly inseparably. In truth Dio hadn’t told you much about his son beyond his name and bits and pieces of his personality. But now, waiting patiently at your fiancé's house, you nervously touched up your makeup, eyes darting between your face and the door, a smile on your face and a lightness in your chest. Your heart was racing like never before.

So was Giorno’s. He wasn’t sure if he was afraid or excited, fearful or grateful, anticipating or anxious. You’d always sounded so nice whenever his father had spoken of you. But Giorno had never met you. He wasn’t proper or well-mannered like his father, nor was he as quiet or interested in reading. In truth he and his father didn’t have all too much in common. And even then, even if the two of them were similar, would you like him then? Maybe he would take up all of your time. He would be a burden to you, getting in the way of everything, nothing but extra baggage in a previously perfect love, only eliciting every possible negative emotion from within your soul? There wasn’t any way he could conceive it going positively. He could hardly control himself under normal circumstances, but he knew he’d have much less a tighter grip on his childish behavior or energy when meeting you. You would hate him. He knew it. He would ruin your love for his father. He would -

“Go inside.” Dio’s voice broke him into the clear from his thick, foggy thoughts. Somehow Giorno found himself at the entrance to his house - right in front of the door you were behind - his father motioning to the unlocked door. If he said something to his dad now, he would worsen everything, not just for you but for his dad, too. And again that fearful thought crept up again. If you were gone, and his father was gone, then who would be there for him?

He found himself being practically shoved through the doorway, a strong hand against his back as the two of them entered, only for Giorno to have perhaps a moment to center himself before losing his balance and sight in an instant, slender arms enveloping him.

He was adorable! You understood Dio’s fear of keeping him from you - not all women were open to single fathers, but, of course, you weren’t one of them - but couldn’t believe the thought that he’d been hiding such a cute little treasure from you. As you set him down from your spinning hug, you kneeled down to him, taking him in for the first time wholly, as he did the exact same to you.

You - you didn’t hate him? You hadn’t screamed, or ran? You had...that was, you’d...he’d gotten a hug from you? As he regained his balance he found a pretty young woman smiling gleefully, kneeling down to his level and looking you over from head to toe, joy only blooming more and more on your face as you examined his features. You had the cutest smile he’d ever seen, and as he returned one of his own, still in a stupor, you easily said the same for him. Look at the way his perfect cheeks budged up as he grinned, eyelashes fanning the frame of his stunning green eyes, small little nose looking oh-so-boopable you could hardly contain your squee, completely and totally oblivious to your soon-to-be-husband, who stood in the doorway, mouth twitching into something like a frown of jealousy.

You relapsed into hugging Giorno, who, this time, returned your embrace, and as you felt his little arms around your back, you cried, “My baby boy! Oh, look at you, angel!” Feeling him laugh lightly against you, you began to barrage his small forehead with kisses, eyes welling with tears that threatened to spill over. He was precious. So, so, so incredibly precious, and by god, you were so blessed to have him and Dio in your life. Oh, how could he have hidden Giorno from you?! “I love you so much, Giorno.”

“I - I love you too, Miss [y/n] - mom!” And he did. You radiated warmth and comfort, and gave the best hugs he’d ever received, and were way more pretty than his dad, and smiled way more often, and rained affection down upon him. A giant grin emerged on his face. “I’ll be good, I promise!”

A tear escaped you. “Oh, Giorno...thank you…” you trailed off after wiping the wetness from your eyes, only to cast a glance up and find Dio, practically pouting, skulking in the corner, like a big baby in time-out, and you laughed, orienting your son so he could see his father. “...But save some love for your dad, too!” You leaned in close, face just besides Giorno’s, before continuing in a whisper, “He won’t ever say it, but I think he’s jealous of us.”

Giorno giggled. He loved you already, absolutely, completely and totally, and called out, “Dad! Come get a hug from mom! She gives the best hugs!”

And as Dio made his way into the picture, lifting his young son upon his arms and settling him atop his shoulder, taller than he could ever dream of, now up in the air of the adults, smiling just like you, the three of you were positive that nothing better existed than being there, together, by each other’s side - a family.

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 4 years

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Hellooooo I saw that you write magi and I was wondering if you could write a nsfw scenario/oneshot for Hakuryuu and fem!reader? Maybeeeeee he gets jealous of her friendship with Kouha and gets a bit possessive? 👀

Oh anon, I love this omg, I love possessive hakuryuu!!

NSFW

I hope you like this!! This got away from me a little bit lol

>Admin 𝕋

｡o°✥✤✣ 　　 ✣✤✥°o｡

𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚

Yet another meeting with the council to deal with stuff that he really didn’t care about. Really, these things were getting to him. They have no substance whatsoever, no real way to get him to where he wants.

And when the meetings go that way he needs to see one person and one person only. (y/n). Hakuryuu rescued her from a hostage situation in Kuo when he was traveling with a carravan. She was running toward them, trying to escape her captors.

When he did kill them, she was forever grateful and asked what she could possibly do to pay him. He looked to her, and immediately saw the pureness and kindness in her eyes, and that was when he knew he needed her around him. So that he didn’t have to feel that darkness inside himself all the time.

He walked down the sunlight hallway, reminiscing about her, causing him to slightly smile. She did her job well, making him laugh and smile like this. That is all he wanted from her, just her brightness. He walked faster now, a new vigor to find her.

But when he did, he didn’t expect to see her with him. Kouha, that little devil. He saw them sitting near the courtyard fountain, Kouha was giggling and bumping shoulders against (y/n). They seemed to be deep in conversation, both of them leaning in and whispering about something or the other, then laughing when finished.

Hakuryuu flexed his jaw, trying to relax his muscles. This wasn’t the first time he caught them talking, they seem to be good friends ever since Kouha met (y/n), and he was okay with that. She was happy to have new friends to hang out with. He was okay with that. But, why, right now, he felt like he was going to need to rip Kouha in two?

He furrowed his eyebrows together, clenching his hands into fists and started to march over to them, his strides long and purposeful. They stopped laughing when they saw Hakuryuu stop and stand in front of them, (y/n) giving him a wide smiled and Kouha smirking, as if he knew exactly what was going on. “Oh, Hakuryuu how nice of you to show your face. Tell me, how was the meeting?”

“None of your business.” he gritted out through his teeth. (y/n) tilted her head at his tone of voice.

“Haku, is there something wrong? You sound mad.” she said to him. He breathed in and blinked several times before shaking his head. Thinking better of it, he suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her to stand up, keeping her close to his body.

“There is something I need to talk you about actually,” he glanced to Kouha then back to her, “alone.” he whispered the last part, bowed to Kouha and departed from the courtyard, (y/n) in tow.

He headed straight to the his private quarters and harshly opened the door, practically throwing her inside, then close it behind him. “Haku, what the hell--”

“What are you doing with Kouha?” he interrupted. He felt an awful feeling beginning to fill in his chest, but he didn’t think anything of it. (y/n) looked at him, confused.

“What do you mean, we’re just friends--”

“Is that all?” he demanded. She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Yes, Hakuryuu, that is all.” she said, her tone flat. He breathed hard, the feeling beginning to overwhelm him. Without thinking, he took strides to land in front of her, taking her shoulders into his hands and resting his face on her shoulders, unintentionally touching his lips to the juncture that connect neck and shoulder. He breathed in her scent, his eyes closing in comfort.

“Good.” he whispered to her. She shivered, her cheeks turning red.

“What is this all about?” she asked, lifting his head from her shoulder and putting her hands on his cheeks. He tried to avoid eye contact, but she refused to let him cower.

“I thought you liked him better than me.” he muttered, embarrassed that his inferiority complex was showing. Especially to her. But, she laughed, shaking her head.

“Oh Haku, I could never like him more than you. I’m yours, forever and always.” she proclaimed. Hakuryuu’s eyes widened, his chest no longer filled with that disgusting feeling of possessiveness.

“Really?” he murmured, still shocked at what he heard. She smirked and bit her lip, nodding her head slightly.

Still in shock, Hakuryuu took his hands and put them on her cheeks like she was doing to him and pushed his lips onto hers. She didn’t move at first, too stunned to say or do something, but soon started to reciprocate, moving with him. He kissed her harder now, loving the feel of his lips against hers, but was losing breath fast and with one last peck, he moved away, just a little, to see her reaction.

What he saw made his lower body heat up, a fire beginning to ignite. Her eyes were blown into black spheres and her lips were plump and red from the kiss. She looked absolutely wrecked, because of just one kiss, and he knew they had to go further or he was going to absolutely lose it. Lifting her up by the waist and with a yelp from her, he guided them both to his bed, dropping her with a dull thud.

He quickly work of her clothes and then his, and soon they were both naked in front of each other. She was stunning to him, she always stunning, but right now, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He kissed her again and laid her against the bed, his tongue doing wonders to her lips.

In response, (y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, hoisting her hips up to rub her core against his length. She loved the little needy moan he made between kisses and rubbed harder, causing a rhythm of pure pleasure.

Noticing the pattern she was making, Hakuryuu started bucking his hips and meeting her thrusts, his heart racing. They kept it going until she was soaking his cock with her juices and until he was about to go over the edge, so he abruptly stopped his movements and looked to (y/n).

She nodded and opened her legs wider for him, and watched as he slowly slid inside her heat with bated breath. It was painful, but she was happy they were finally connected; she always wanted to do this with him.

Once they were both comfortable, she gave him the OK and Hakuryuu started to slowly rock his hips back and forth, both of them groaning at the same time and the rising pleasure, and with each thrust Hakuryuu went fast, filling her deeper and deeper.

And with each thrust, (y/n) felt herself unwinding in the best way possible. She took hold of Hakuryuu’s hair and pulled him down, kissing him roughly and biting his lower lip. “Ren--I’m yours, okay?” she whispered to him and he whimpered.

“You’re mine (y/n), you’re mine.” he chanted, ramming himself into her now, causing her moans to become yelps of pleasure. “You’re mine--”

“I’m yours, yes, I am yours, forever--” she screamed in response, meeting his thrusts with her own. It went on like this until Hakuryuu suddenly took out his hot length and came all over her sweaty body, some of it hitting her chin. She panted, wiping the semen off her face and licking it off her fingers, smiling up at Hakuryuu.

“And you’re mine.”

#magi x reader #magi imagines #magi drabble #magi scenarios #hakuryuu ren x reader #hakuryuu x reader #hakuryuu ren #spicy stuff #spicy times #spicy times with t #zest

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jooniyah · 4 years

Text

Star-Crossed

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Fem Reader ; Yandere!au

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Yandere behavior, emotional abuse, extremely unhealthy relationship, kidnapping, manipulation, profanity, mentions of mental illness, blood, knives and murder.

Author’s note: This is a work of fiction and I do not condone any of the actions of the characters in this fiction. This is to be treated as pure fantasy, and should not be misconstrued to be demeaning the idols in any way. If any of the above warnings cause you discomfort, kindly refrain from reading.

A special mention to thank @kpopyandere for writing stellar yandere fics, which inspired me to try my hand at yandere!au for the first time. Thanks, @junqkook for writing the enthralling ‘Every Breath You Take’, the quality of which I can never dream to surpass.

Okay, read and enjoy!

He flicked the light switch on and drawled, “I want you to go to the party with me.” Your eyes were sensitive at the sudden exposure to light. Your whole body felt suddenly warm after a long time. You didn’t know how long it had been since you were locked up here. The only thing that made sure you were alive in the place was his hauntingly ethereal face gleaming up on you from time to time. You blinked at him without saying a word. He was leaning against the doorframe, with his arms crossed. You knew you couldn’t possibly go out to a party, not with all those bruises covering your body. You shrugged your shoulders feebly and said, “I am covered in bruises.” He stepped in closer and leaned over to inspect you. “That’s not a problem. I’ll take care of it,” he said. He took the key out of his pocket. With a click, he uncuffed your hands tied behind you. Your shoulders were sore and you instinctively stretched your arms, almost hugging yourself in the process. “Really?” he asked as he bent down to stare at you. There was a dark gleam in his eyes. That same mischievous and ominous gleam. “You really should have thanked me and reached out to hug me first, you know,“ he said as he pressed his hand firmly on your aching shoulder, making you wince. “Even after four days in the darkroom, you still are a selfish ungrateful bitch,” He was pressing harder now and you opened your mouth in a silent scream.“ Make that mouth useful at least,” he said and looked at you menacingly. With trembling hands, you reached out to his face and held him closer. You made sure that there was a small gap between you so that he wouldn’t suspect your revulsion. Well, you have always been good at keeping secrets. His grip was still growing firm on your shoulder as you pulled him in towards you. Aligning your lips with his plush ones, you dove in for a kiss when he cruelly grabbed at your shoulder blade, making a stream of fresh tears fall between your lips, and stain the kiss with a saltiness that brought a devilish smile on his lips. Looping his hands under your arms, he pulled and brought you on your feet without breaking the kiss. You tried to stand, without your legs giving out after days of being handcuffed to the chair. Your legs had cramped so badly but he had refused to let you out, saying that you would stay that way until you learned your lesson. It wasn’t something new to you. Whenever he wanted to punish you, he always put you in this dark cold room in the mansion, which he liked to call his favorite darkroom for his favorite little princess, you. With wobbly legs, you followed him out of the room. You didn’t want to go back to being handcuffed again, so you decided to humor him if that meant even a little peace for you. “Thank you for letting me out, Joonie” you whispered. You wanted to say more but couldn’t, as the words of flattery in your mind made you feel disgusted. He seemed to like that and patted your head saying “ Now that’s more like it. I don’t understand why you think you need to hide how much you love me, Y/N. You pretend to dislike being with me, but I know that is not true. You are so cute when you pretend to rebel against me.” You exhaled slowly and struggled to keep your face from betraying your emotion. You were tired of his constant declarations that you loved him. Once out of the room, he dragged you to the bathroom. “Strip,” he said, letting go of you. “I’ve already bought you clothes. Wash yourself. I’d love to have you like this, but I can’t take you out and let others see how beautiful you look when you are ruined.” He stepped out of the room, letting you bathe.

He had already made sure you could never lock yourself inside a room. No door in the mansion could be locked from the inside. You sighed and got the hot water running in the tub. You looked at yourself in the mirror and saw a pathetic woman staring back, covered in bruises and crusted blood. You winced as you examined where he had punched your jaw two days ago. You were still not sure how he could be so doting one minute and turn into a violent brute the next. You got into the tub and worked up a lather, flinching whenever it hurt to touch anywhere bruised. All your thoughts came crashing down on you. The real words and emotions threatened to find their way out into the world. You knew better as to what would happen if Namjoon were to find out. He would punish you for even thinking your own thoughts. Even a single slip on your side would send you straight to the devil’s world.

At last, you deemed yourself presentable enough and stepped out, to see Namjoon standing in your dressing room with a young woman. “This is Haewon. She’ll take care of your makeup,” he said, pulling you gently towards his side. You couldn’t tell if he was smiling genuinely at you or simply faking it for Haewon’s benefit. “Uh… She looks like she’s been…” she paused for a second, “did she have an accident?” You looked at Namjoon, who held onto you and tucked a section of hair behind your ear. “She used to harm herself. But I’ve been making sure she’s getting help. In fact, I’m taking her out for a little fun because she’s been cooped up inside for so long. Don’t worry about her, she’s fine,” he responded with a devoted smile aimed straight at your eyes. Haewon nodded and smiled at you with what was supposed to be sympathy. As she moved away, he bent down to whisper in your ear. “I don’t want to hear you speaking a word to her. Don’t try to do anything stupid, baby girl,” he said as he squeezed your forearm, right at the place where he knew you had a painful contusion. You gasped silently and nodded while he let go of you.

Haewon began working on your battered skin to the best of her ability. She was a nice girl with blue eyes, silky blonde hair and a petite frame. She tried asking you harmless questions about yourself, but you knew better than to talk to her. If Namjoon expressly said he didn’t want you speaking, he absolutely meant it. You just smiled weakly and shook your head, hoping she would think you were tired and leave you alone. Well, she might think you were an unfriendly bitch, but it’s better to please Namjoon and steer clear of his punishments than indulge a stranger, right? By the end of an hour, Haewon had transformed you into a radically different woman. All the bruises had been expertly concealed. Namjoon had picked a soft dress in a beautiful shade of peach. It flared out at the waist in a dreamy cascade of velvet. He had bought you a pretty pair of heels to go with it. You hated to admit that he had chosen them so well.

As you spun around, admiring yourself in the mirror, you caught sight of Namjoon standing in the doorway. He was dressed in an impeccable black suit and wore shoes that gleamed brighter than his coal-black eyes. You saw his image winking at you in the mirror and turned to face him. “You are going to be the death of me,” he murmured, as he drew you into his arms. How you wished that would be true! You simply squirmed in his arms, wishing he were dead already. Haewon was giggling when he turned to her and pressed a wad of cash in her hand. “Thanks for your work. You made her look stunning,” he said with a grin. She nodded happily and turned to you. You broke his embrace and shook hands with her to express your thanks. “You have a wonderful boyfriend. I’m so jealous right now,” she whispered into your ears with a giggle. It grated on your nerves to hear her say that. What did she know about this ‘wonderful boyfriend’? You were annoyed that she was so quick to judge him as a great guy, without any idea of what a monster he could be. But then, you were stupid yourself. You had fallen for him just as quickly as she had. So, in a way, you were annoyed at her that she reminded you of how naive you had been. You nodded with a tight smile and said, “I know.” You were sure he had heard the whispers and would be amused to make you repeat her words. He always had fun toying with your sanity.

After Haewon left the room, he snaked his arm around your waist and leaned into you. “ Tell me what she said,” he asked as he pressed you closer to his side. You gritted your teeth and ground out the words verbatim. You knew better than to leave out a single word. He chuckled and placed a kiss on the top of your head. “You seem to be such a good girl today. I thought you were going to try to act stupid and get punished for being a bad girl. But not today.” You thought you heard a faint disappointment in his voice. Usually, he loved it when you messed up. He always pounced on a chance to bend you over the nearest table and spank you till you cried. Or choke you till your eyes rolled back in your head, and you almost tasted death. You knew he was waiting for you to make the slightest slip up so he could have his way with you. But you were determined to last for at least a week before going back to the darkroom. Anything was better than the darkroom.

"Babe, I’m going to drop Haewon back at the intersection. You stay here and wait for me, alright?“ he told you as he walked out of the mansion with Haewon following behind him. He had slipped a sheet of paper into your hands before leaving. “Make sure you memorize everything in this,” he had said. You watched him walk away and lock the door behind him. After he had brought you to his mansion, he had changed all the the locks to electronic ones saying that you were too precious for him to lose. At that time, being the naive girl you were, you had thought it was true and had admired the way he loved you and your flaws. You didn’t even have an inkling at that time that a life with Namjoon would be like this. When you say it like that people would think you were lucky enough to be in his life, but you knew that every single day, you struggled to keep yourself alive, with death hanging like a knife above your head. He drove away to drop Haewon off, leaving you wondering if Haewon could even trace her way back to the mansion without his help. You decided to look at the sheet you were given, and you were dumbstruck on reading it. It contained a set of questions and answers you had to memorize. You felt stupid as you read what he had written down: expected questions that you might be asked at the party, and answers for them. His answers. He had changed everything, starting from your hometown to your maiden name. He had stripped away your individuality and replaced it with a nameless, faceless stranger. The one thing you had left after meeting him was taken away from you, it left you pensive, wondering what else could be taken away.

When he returned, he threw the door open and called out to you. You hastened to meet his arms in fear of being deemed too slow and punished. He beamed proudly as you surrendered yourself into his arms. “You look like a fairy tonight,” he murmured, “ It’s a good thing you were on your punishment for the last four days. Because you wouldn’t have fit into this dress so easily if it weren’t for the darkroom.” You felt a cold wave of sickness stab your gut when you realized he had deliberately bought a smaller dress just because he had fancied it and made you fit in it. “So, I hope you’ve been a good girl and remembered to study the character I’ve built for you?” he asked. You were foolish enough to open your mouth and ask him, “Why ….?”. You suddenly realized what you had done. He stopped in his tracks to turn. His eyes flashed a darker shade of black. With his menacing voice, he asked you, “Were you saying something, my little lamb?”. Your mind raced to think of ways to get you out of this situation. Even death would have looked the easiest way out. “I was wondering why we had to go this early to that party. Can we stay for a drink before we head out? I mean, I just wanted some alone time with you.” You faked a blush. You weren’t ready to be tortured today. You saw his face slowly stretch into a captivating smile, as the light from the chandelier fell on his face, illuminating his chiseled features. You found yourself tracing your fingers over his jawbone, earning a hot and hungry kiss in reward. It seemed to put him in a happy mood because he wore a dazzling smile which only kept getting brighter as the evening progressed.

The ride to that party was long. He was on his phone the entire time, giving you some time alone to look out the window. The city looked beautiful out there with all those colorful lights and yet here you were, sitting with the devil in a shade of grey, as if your time had stopped for a long time, wondering what went wrong and how you ended up like this. Finally, your train of thought was broken when the car came to a sudden halt. When you stepped out of the car and held onto his arms, he tossed his keys to the valet and patted your arm fondly. “I know you hate being seen or touched by other men, but I’m right here to protect you. You’ll be safe with me, I promise,” he said with intense eyes. You weren’t sure if it was meant to be a reassurance or a threat. This was the first time he was taking you out after he came ripping your life in shreds. You tightened your arm on his and said, “ I know, Joonie.” With a satisfied smile, he led you into the bright lights streaming from the hotel.

As you entered the banquet hall, you could sense a lot of people turning to look at you. Everyone seemed curious to know who Namjoon had on his arm. There were a lot of people who greeted Namjoon as he weaved his way towards a group of men clustered around a table. They looked at you with interest as he introduced you. You didn’t know if he would punish you later for shaking hands with them, and this got you wishing the night were over already. “So, Y/N”, said Taehyung, “ you’re the first one that the mighty Kim Namjoon has ever dated openly.” You sneaked a look at Namjoon as Taehyung continued, “Tell us what you think about him. We’re curious.” You chuckled smoothly and said,“ He’s a great guy. He’s a stickler for perfection, though. He means whatever he says”. You crossed your fingers hoping this didn’t land you in trouble later. You hadn’t gotten any pinches or painful grasps yet, so you figured everything was going well. The men had brought their girlfriends, who you shook hands with. Seokjin’s girlfriend Lee Eun Ji seemed genuinely friendly and interested in knowing you better. The men moved a bit farther, talking business as they sipped their drinks.

You were asked friendly questions, most of which Namjoon had anticipated and provided answers with. You managed to blush and evade the ones you weren’t sure of handling. “You know, we were so curious about who the whole party was for,” So Yeon, Jimin’s girlfriend said. “ Oh?”, you blinked, “who is it for?” you enquired curiously. “Why! you sure know Namjoon arranged this whole party to show off his new girlfriend,” giggled Eun Ji. “Of course, all the businessmen here pretend it’s to toast the successful closure of the financial quarter,” she added. You didn’t know if she was joking. You looked around the room filled with people, suddenly hyper-aware of all the pair of eyes sizing you up. “Don’t be nervous, everyone here except Namjoon’s friends work under him,” said So Yeon. “What do the rest of them do?”, you asked. You were then told that the men with Namjoon were the board of directors of the company that Namjoon owned. They had been friends from school, and they had founded the company together. The only fact you had known about Namjoon before coming here was that he was a maniac and a sadist. Yet, here were people telling you that he was a person who was funny, loved to make others laugh and had normal friends. Like they say, the Devil definitely wears Prada. You hadn’t understood what the phrase meant until Namjoon came into your life. He really was a good actor, skilled at masking his true personality. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, for pretending to be someone he was not. Or was he pretending? Did he know which of his personalities was true and which was the mask? Did you know enough about him to hazard a guess? You found out he had had previous failed relationships, but none of them had lasted long enough for him to bring to his best friends. You thought you knew the reason why. Because he was a monster. You also got to know that he had studied abroad and had excellent grades. ‘Of course,’ you thought, ‘the bastard has an amazingly sharp mind’. You were surprised that he had left you unattended for so long, without breathing down your neck. You wondered if this was a test to check how much he could trust you.

After you started chatting with the girls, you relaxed a little and sipped your drink, feeling a little dizzy. You scanned the room, and, without warning, a thought popped into your head. What if, maybe, just maybe you could escape from his clutches this night? You found your eyes staring at the wide main door of the hall. Instinctively you felt a hot gaze burning into your back. You turned and immediately caught sight of Namjoon, who was looking at you inscrutably. You felt your head start to pound and your pulse quickened on seeing him slowly raise his eyebrows. He didn’t break eye contact with you for a whole damn minute, making your insides churn. No, you were paranoid. He couldn’t read your mind and know what you had been considering just now. Or could he? Beads of sweat rolled down your back as the thudding in your head grew louder. His eye contact was broken by a drunk and haggard conglomerate who was attempting to make a conversation with him. You swung your eyes back to Yoongi’s girlfriend and attempted to calm yourself down. Your eyes never wandered to the door again, but your mind screamed to escape his talons. A few drinks later, you decided to try your luck one last time. Namjoon had confiscated every electronic device you owned, including your cell phone, when he had brought you to his mansion. Now, you decided to take advantage of one of the girls to hatch an escape plan. "Oh!”, you gasped a fake surprise, pretending to search the insides of your clutch purse. “ I guess I’ve left it in the car”, you faked a little facepalm. “What is it?” asked Eun Ji. You gave her a beseeching look. “I thought I had my phone with me, but it seems like I left it behind,” you said. “I just remembered that I need to make a call”. You had one microsecond to choose between asking for a phone and shutting up and riding back to hell with Namjoon. You decided to risk it and continued, “ How silly of me! I have to borrow a phone, I guess.” She promptly took the bait. “You can use my phone, don’t worry,” she beamed.“ You heaved a sigh of relief, saying ” Thanks, Eun Ji. I’ll wait for you at the women’s bathroom.“ You thought on your feet and decided to go first. You didn’t want him seeing you use a phone, nor did you want him to see you going with Eun Ji. You got up and felt giddy with nervousness. Trying to be as casual as you could, you made your way to the side doors.

Namjoon had been watching you all evening. He knew you would try to pull a stunt, and he was interested in what you would come up with. He had caught you staring at the exit, and he had seen your lips tremble when you made eye contact with him. He was amused to see you trying to hold yourself up, he felt like a puppeteer watching his puppet perform pitiably on its own. When he saw you tracing your finger over your glass thoughtfully, he wondered what was going through your pretty little head. He would let you try your tricks, but he wouldn’t mind breaking those pretty fingers if you put one toe out of his line. He thought he knew what would happen when he saw you make your way to the side door. Ladies bathroom. Convenient. He sighed. He thought you would come up with something more original and entertaining. As soon as he saw Eun Ji stand up, he ambled over to her, blocking her path smoothly.

You huffed in annoyance as you kept looking at the bathroom door. Women kept coming and leaving, but Eun Ji’s face never showed up. Was there any other bathroom suite? You hoped she hadn’t wandered off to some other bathroom. Time ticked on but there was no sign of the wretched woman. Now you started to panic. What if Namjoon noticed that you were gone for so long? You decided to suck it up and borrow a phone from one of the ladies in the bathroom. As you approached one woman, there was a warning bell going off in your head. Swallowing the ominous feeling in your throat, you asked her if you could use her phone. She looked at you incredulously, probably because you were her employer’s girlfriend and surely you would have a phone of your own? She handed it over and you ran to the nearest stall. With trembling fingers, you dialed your mom’s number. It was switched off. Your dad’s number was switched off too. With growing panic, you dialed the only other number you knew by heart: your best friend Seung Ho’s. Your heart lifted as you listened to the ringback tone. Finally, you heard "Hello?” You started hyperventilating as you sobbed into the phone,“ Seungah! It’s me, Y/N! Seungah, are mom and dad okay?” There was an audible gasp, followed by “Y/N? Oh my God! Are you alright? I’ve been worried sick about you! Where are you? Your dad and mom went missing too. I almost went crazy when I saw your house ransacked and found all of you missing. I’ve lodged a police complaint. Tell me where you are. Let me come and fetch you.” You started hiccuping as you told him how you were abducted by a man and imprisoned in his mansion. You were not sure whether you should tell him your abductor’s name. You knew Namjoon was capable of indescribable violence. What if you were jeopardizing Seung Ho’s life by involving him in this mess? “I’m at a hotel, he brought me out for the first time. I didn’t notice the name properly; I think it is Conrad but I’m not sure.” He was silent for a minute before asking you the monogram on the toiletries. You told him that it was an intricate C embroidered in gold. You heard someone knocking on your stall’s door. “I’ll come and get you. Stay there and don’t let him suspect anything,” he said and cut the call. You ran out, returned the phone to its owner, and fixed your dress and makeup.

Your heart was beating wildly when you stepped out of the bathroom suite and walked towards the banquet hall. The first thing that you noticed on entering the hall was that Namjoon was missing from his group of friends. As you turned towards the table you had shared with Eun Ji and the others, you stopped abruptly in your tracks. There was Namjoon, talking earnestly to Eun Ji, apparently interested in whatever she was saying. With one swift lift of his head, he stared directly into your eyes. All the blood drained from your face as you watched him stretch his face into a slow predatory smile. Something screamed inside your head, telling you to call Seung Ho back and stop him from coming. But it was too late. With an arched eyebrow, Namjoon beckoned you to join him.

"Eun Ji here was just telling me that you wanted a phone,“ he said silkily, his fingers ghosting your arm, "You could have just asked me, honey.” You slumped your shoulders, saying “I thought you were busy with your friends, so I asked Eun Ji.” He gave you a smile that would seem loving to any other person, but to you, it meant malevolence. “You two make a gorgeous couple,” Eun Ji giggled and winked at Namjoon. He chuckled easily and launched into a description of how cute you were. But you couldn’t listen to a word he said. Your mind was worrying profusely about Seung Ho. What would happen to him if Namjoon came to know about him? You couldn’t even imagine what the man would do to your friend. Cold fear crept its way up to your shoulders as his eyes danced all over your face, challenging you. He left saying that the food was delicious and that you should go and try the chocolate parfait. Eun Ji offered to go with you. The devil loosened his grip surprisingly and you made your way to the table farthest from him.

It was around 30 minutes later that you received a message through one of the waiters. He dropped a tightly rolled slip of paper on your plate as he set it down. You looked at him with a sudden jerk of your head, and he quietly motioned towards the end of the hall. There, looking at you intently, was the woman who had lent you her phone. As soon as she was sure you had caught her eyes properly, she nodded her head in one swift motion. Then she lowered her eyes to her drink and didn’t look up again. You felt your entire being trembling with fear as you thought of what would happen if your stunt transpired and Namjoon came to know. You had the sinister feeling that you were being watched. The knowledge that Namjoon had stepped out of the hall with Yoongi and hadn’t returned only served to twist the knot in your stomach tighter. Carefully, pretending to look around for a waiter, you swept your eyes throughout the hall. No Namjoon was in sight.

With great caution, you unrolled the paper and read its contents. “Come out as soon as you get this. I’ll come to you when I see you.” You re-read the paper to make sure it was Seung Ho’s handwriting. With another wary glance, you ascertained that Namjoon was, in fact, not in the room. None of the women at the table had seen your paper, they had been chatting in a drunken stupor.

You were hit by a wave of nausea. You would rather stay and die with Namjoon than see Seung Ho being hurt. What if you just slipped out, met him, told him you’d come back someday, and came back to your captor? At least Seung Ho would see you were alright and would agree to wait and plan your escape. You felt it was rational to come back tonight and try to escape another day. So, with your head spinning, you slowly traced your steps to the main door. As an afterthought, you turned and walked down the sleek wooden paneled hall and reached the side doors. You knew that hotels like these had a private entrance that was mostly connected to the fire escape. You decided it was worth a shot and crept down the fire escape, with a steady lookout for Namjoon or any of his friends. You reached the last few steps and crept along the dimly illuminated tunnel that forked out from the base of the stairs. Just like you had guessed, the tunnel led you directly to the VIP entrance. When you emerged out of the tunnel, a guard signaled for you to stop. You felt your ears ring as you complied. With a forced smile, you looked at the guard and said, “ I’m the hostess of the party at the banquet hall. Is something wrong?” His eyebrows cleared and he nodded you forward with “Nothing ma'am. Have a pleasant evening.” You couldn’t believe your luck as you sailed regally out of the gates and stepped onto the cold gravel.

Pressing his earpiece, the guard talked into his microphone, “ She has just left the building, she turned westward and continued down the road.”

You didn’t know where Seung Ho would be, so you were unsure of which direction you had to take. Ducking in the shadows, you reached the end of the street and remained hidden as you scanned the entire road for any sign of Seung Ho. Almost an eternity passed before you spotted a figure wearing a bomber jacket you would recognize anywhere. You silently moved towards the walking figure to meet them halfway. You were right, it really was Seung Ho. Heart beating wildly, you broke into a frantic jog and launched yourself straight into his open arms. He hugged you tight with whispers of “Are you okay?” “Are you hurt?” Without breaking the embrace, he turned you around on your heels and told you to sprint as fast as you could with him. Your brain screamed at you as to what a stupid decision it was. Yet, your legs started to move on their own. You could not help but think, what if you could run away from all this? You held his hand as you ran at breakneck speed down the road, zigzagging through the lanes and smaller streets.

After what seemed like fifteen minutes of running, your lungs gave out and you had to stop. He pulled you into an alley and the two of you crouched in the dark. You cuddled into him, missing the wonderful presence of someone familiar. Seung Ho was shushing you, patting your back while he kept an alert vigil on the alleyway. Neither of you uttered a single word, both absorbed in your own mortal fears on what would happen if something went wrong after coming this far. You kicked yourself for running away, after all those ‘rational’ plans of returning to Namjoon as soon as you finished meeting Seung Ho. Now you were absolutely sure Namjoon would break every bone in your body if he ever got his hands on you again. You can sense that Seung Ho was confused at all this, yet he never uttered a word. After your lungs stopped feeling like you had swallowed molten lava, you jabbed Seung Ho’s shoulder and whispered, “How did you send that message to me? How were you sure it would reach me?” He winked and said, “I got another person to call the number you had called me from. When I found out that it was a woman, I called and asked if she could deliver a message to the person she had lent her phone to. She didn’t mind, so I got her name, quickly scribbled a message and sent it to her through the reception desk.” Your eyes opened in wonder and you pressed an innocent kiss on his cheek for being so smart. He gave you his cheeky grin and dismissed you as a ‘sloppy kisser’. You giggled and dug your fingers into his ribs, asking if it was time to resume running. He swept his eyes over the alleyway and nodded. Cautiously, he got up and went to check the road in case anyone was lurking there. When he was satisfied that the coast was indeed clear, he signaled you to join him.

The two of you were bone-tired when you reached the busy crossroads almost 3 miles from the Conrad Hotel. Considering the fact that Namjoon was probably already combing the area in search of you, Seung Ho decided to hitch a ride. He reasoned with you that it was safer because you stayed anonymous and it was more sensible than booking a cab. You agreed and waited for someone to slow down in response to Seung Ho’s outstretched thumb. You kept getting jittery as you eyed each passing car, scared of getting caught by him. Fortunately, a car slowed down, and a woman rolled down her window. Seung Ho quickly asked her if she could drop the two of you at the next metro station. She agreed and both of you hopped in with relieved smiles.

The woman stopped at an intersection and turned to Seung Ho saying, “ You just have to walk a couple of minutes due North and you’ll reach the metro.” You turned back and looked out of the window. There was no one in sight. You nodded your head and alighted, thanking her profusely. As soon as she drove away, Seung Ho held your hand and started walking with brisk steps. You had a sinister feeling of being followed and kept your ears tuned to the surroundings. There was a cold breeze blowing, turning your exhaled breaths into mists of warm vapor. Suddenly you heard a noise directly behind you. You could have sworn you had heard the crunch of shoes on gravel just then. Tightening your grip on Seung Ho’s hand, you started running down the poorly lit road. You ran as fast you could, and your lungs were threatening to betray you.

As the two of you dashed forward, you ran smack into a person who seemingly materialized out of the gloomy night itself. Before you could comprehend anything, you saw a flash of black grab and yank you from Seung Ho. Your head swam as the blackness pressed you in a chokehold that grew tighter with each passing second. You almost blacked out when you heard a deep voice laced with malice croon in your ear, “Found ya, baby girl.” Before you could pass out, he loosened his grip on your throat. You fell hard on to the cold rough gravel. A dark shoe pinned your palm to the gravel and twisted it, bruising the back of your hand and crushing it against the gravel. You yelped in pain and suddenly everything came into focus. You were pinned to the ground by Namjoon’s foot, and Seung Ho was being held by a hooded stranger, with a knife dangerously close to his neck.

Bending down, Namjoon pulled you up by your hair, twisting it around his hand as though he owned you by the reins. With a sharp tug, he brought you upright and had you facing Seung Ho. “I was so bored, waiting for you to come out of the damned alley, princess. I almost lost my patience. But then I decided to let you think you had outsmarted me. I wanted to dangle freedom in front of you and snatch it when you thought you had almost won.” He turned your head to face him and slapped you hard across the face, making your cheek sting. “I’ve been so good to you and this is what I get for my kindness? Some selfish bitch you are. And you ran off, with him? I am so disappointed in you, Y/N.” You saw Seung Ho try to move, and the stranger pressed the blade even closer against his skin. Your eyes were blurry from all the tears threatening to spill out. You had been caught, just as you had feared. You would not be getting away with this easily. Now, because of you, Seung Ho was in harm’s way too.

"I saw you kiss him”, Namjoon was pressing a cold blade against your lips,“ And he called you a sloppy kisser?” he scoffed. “You had some nerve, kissing a man and hugging him like that, thinking I wouldn’t know.” So, the bastard had been following you the entire time! You tried to open your lips, but the sharp edge of the blade held firmly against your lips was drawing blood now. “ I took such good care of you, only to be repaid with this?” he twisted your hair tighter in his hand. Fat drops of tears started falling from your eyes, dampening the fabric on your chest. You couldn’t talk, not with the blade against your lips.

You felt him relax his grip abruptly, and you fell down again, losing your balance. A sharp well-placed kick to your ribcage rendered you motionless, with nothing more than a groan escaping your bleeding lips. Lying down crumpled on the gravel, you saw Namjoon advance towards Seung Ho ominously. The stranger held Seung Ho in a firm grip. “How dare you roam your filthy fingers over her, you bastard,” Namjoon growled. “A sloppy kisser? You have the nerve to touch her and then call her a sloppy kisser?” Lip curling with rage, he placed several punches on Seung Ho’s face. Crying out for Namjoon to stop, you tried to push yourself upright. A crushing pain in your chest ran like an electric jolt throughout your body, making you fall back down, gasping in agony. “Does it hurt, baby doll?”, Namjoon cooed. “Well, you should’ve thought about it before you ran away with this scum. Now, here you are writhing in pain”, he chuckled with amusement.

You watched Namjoon hit Seung Ho, all the while raving obscenities at Seung Ho’s audacity in touching something that belonged solely to him. You could do nothing but cry and beg Namjoon to stop. After he had bloodied Seung Ho’s face to his satisfaction, Namjoon came back to you and pulled you upright, making sure to clutch you tight around your ribs. You were about to faint any moment because of the excruciating pain. He dragged you towards Seung Ho, who was only half-conscious. His nose had been broken, he had a cut lip and swollen jaws. Blood dripped from a cut on his brow, falling on his eyelashes and making a tiny red rivulet trickle down his face.

"No one ever touches you anymore, nor will you ever try to leave me. For learning this lesson, the price you have to pay is quite cheap,” growled Namjoon. You were staring helplessly at your best friend when you saw a flash of silver slice the air and stab his chest. “ No!” you screamed, trying vainly to run out of Namjoon’s grasp. The sharp blade came down a couple more times on Seung Ho, draining the life slowly out of his body. Namjoon let go of you and you dropped down to your knees, scrambling to cradle Seung Ho’s head in your lap, crying all the while. He was gasping for air, eyes wide, trying to tell you something. You wailed on seeing the blood gush out rapidly, you held his head and begged him to stay with you. He leaned a little bit closer, enough for you to hear him, and whispered softly, “I am sorry. I..” But you knew everything was over when you saw Seung Ho’s eyes fixate on you, and saw the light leave his eyes. You cried uncontrollably, all your memories with him flashing in front of you. Yet, here he was, lifeless and cold. All because of you. His beaming face, smile, kindness, and care had become something of the past all because of you.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Namjoon getting down on his knees next to you. You felt his hot breath fanning your ear and turned to stare into his eyes. You were so lost in agony that you couldn’t even curse him. He pulled your hand and wrapped your fingers around the cold hilt of the knife that had pierced your best friend’s flesh. “Baby, look what you made me do,” he sighed, “His blood is staining your beautiful dress.” You looked at him with wide pupils, unable to get a word out. “Go on, I don’t mind if you hug or kiss him now. He won’t come between us anymore.” Seung Ho’s blood was seeping into the fabric of your dress, staining the pale peach fabric a bloody red. “By the way, you look ravishingly beautiful in red, darling,” Namjoon said, wiping the blade on your dress. Without any remorse, he murmured, “I’ve killed a man to protect you. I think you should consider calling me a wonderful guy next time when someone asks.” You watched the man walk away, pressing his shoes to the gravel, holding the reins of your entire being in his hands.

#yandere bts #yandere namjoon x reader #yandere kpop #yandere namjoon #yandere rm #jooniyah #star-crossed #bts #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfic #bangtan #bts yandere #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #rm

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fortysevenswrites · 3 years

Note

Aaaaa I NEED your thoughts on the Bold Type. I love my girls (and go off with Sutton and Richard, season 4 who??)

Okay nonny, here we freaking go!

Sutton (And Richard)

So, I’m not active in the fandom more than randomly rebageling some Richard/Sutton gifsets because I ship the straight couple and what fic I’ve seen is like ALL Kat/Adena, more power to those shippers and those fics, but I am RIDE OR DIE Sutton/Richard.

I love them so much. It’s such a great relationship (which...there is no back half of Season 4. They got married and live happily ever after and manage to make it work with both their ambitions. Miss me with that shit the writers pulled. Not cool. As a writer, I think that the forms of conflict that they decided to go with is really lazy writing, and there are ways to have a compelling storyline and compelling relationship without trying to tear it apart at the seams. If things change and they reconcile in S5, I might consider making my way through the end of S4, but at this point, I’m not going to waste my time.)

I really don’t think the Older Man/Younger Woman thing is THAT big of a deal (maybe it’s because I was in a relationship with a guy 11 years older than me when I was in college. Richard may or may not remind me a little of my ex ¯\_(ツ)_/¯). I think Sutton is just...remarkably capable and competent and mature enough to meet Richard at his level (even if she does have fun as someone in her early 20s would).

Also, they are both very, very attractive people, and yes, I am more than a little shallow about that shit.

Like, I haven’t watched the show since the pregnancy drama storyline kicked in, but now that I’m thinking about seasons 1-3 and the first half of 4, I’m actually inclined to go back and re-watch, because their storyline just is enjoyable to watch. It makes me happy when they’re on screen together. Their storylines are some of the drivers of the show.

Jane

And--and I really don’t know how popular or unpopular this opinion is, but I honestly don’t love Jane as much as I do the other girls. I don’t hate her, I don’t even actively dislike her, but she’s just not my favorite character on the show ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. I know she’s the lead and she is extremely compelling and I do enjoy some of her story (and she’s an amazing singer, I love when she got drunk and high and sang Torn), but there’s just a lot about her that grates on me sometimes, and a lot of times where I’m watching and I find myself thinking, “Can we go just hang out with Sutton now?”

Like, I almost prefer Oliver’s family dynamic more than Jane’s sometimes.

And I REALLY don’t like how her relationship with Pinstripe ended. He fucked up, yes, but she let their lack of communication get in the way of actually resolving their issues. And this is coming from someone who is VERY anti someone who cheats staying in a relationship even if they know they fucked up. I just really like Pinstripe as a character and didn’t like his ending.

Especially following Jane now that she’s got her own vertical within the magazine. I just...don’t love it. I don’t like this guy who they brought in to be her new love interest or whatever the hell he’s supposed to be (okay yes, part of it is because Pinstripe is SO Much better looking, but mostly because I don’t like him all that much), but I’m just not a fan of him. Also, unlike Sutton who was not and has never been Richard’s subordinate, this guy IS Jane’s immediate subordinate and I’m not a fan of that power dynamic.

Kat

I think Kat is great too. I LOVE her with Adena, but I also love how they did break up and get back to being friends (when she came in to shoot for Sutton? Like I just LOVED those scenes), but I really do think that they SHOULD be endgame. I don’t know where the hell Adena was in S4, but she should have been around.

As for the relationship Kat WAS in, in S4 (which, I don’t want to thank COVID for much, but I’m kinda glad production got shot down because who the hell knows what they would have pulled in the last couple episodes), like...what the ever-loving fuck? I’m not a POC, but I am bisexual and support liberal policies, and I would NEVER be in a relationship with someone whose family and beliefs are SO antithetical to my own. Like...I am iffy on the institution of marriage as it is, but if I was ever in a relationship with someone, and ever considered marrying someone, knowing who they voted for in this election is absolutely a dealbreaker. Conversion therapy is a dealbreaker. A woman’s right to choose if she wants to keep her pregnancy or not is a dealbreaker.

I really do not understand what the writers did with Season 4, and Aisha Dee was SO FREAKING RIGHT to make the comments that she did after the season wrapped.

So I could never realistically (or not realistically see, in the case of TBT) Kat and Ava willingly being together.

Like, what the fuck? Honestly, I think the only good relationship Kat has ever been in on the show has been with Adena.

The Rest Of The Cast

Can I just say, the way my jaw DROPPED when I watched the scene of Andrew in drag was S T U N N I N G. Like...I just was absolutely delighted by that and am delighted by him. The fact that he has gotten more and more of a role as the show has gone on was an amazing decision.

I also enjoy Alex and Sage and Jacqueline so much, and they’re all fun to hang out with. Do I think Jacqueline should have stayed with her husband vs. her hot exboyfriend? Hmmmmmm ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oh, and I don’t remember this girl’s name, but the “Gen Z girl” that Jane hired in the second half of S4--SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN HIRED. The moment she whipped out her phone in that interview, the interview should have been OVER.

I understand people spending a lot of time on their phones (mine is never far away from me ever), but the fact that this girl, in her interview, did not even ask if it was okay to take notes on her phone? Was SO rude, and I don’t know which clearly-NOT-a-Gen-Z writer wrote that scene, but any Gen-Zer who is looking for a job, any reasonable person, would NEVER just whip out their phone while they’re being interviewed without asking for permission.

NEVER.

Like...I watched that scene and was just stunned. And yes, I know that TBT is clearly not anything anywhere near reality, but like...that is an inaccuracy that I just can’t abide by.

You don’t pull that shit in a job interview, you just don’t.

Okay nonny, so...those are my thoughts on The Bold Type.

#asked and answered #fortysevens has THOUGHTS

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takingcourage · 4 years

Text

Miscalculations: A Witness AU

Epilogue

Catch up here: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight

Pairing: M!Cassian x MC (Kellen)

Note: My dear readers, thank you so much for your support of this series. This whole process has been an absolute joy, and much of that is because of you. I’m grateful for every reblog, comment, and like you’ve left these last few weeks. Each one has made my days brighter. : )

Although my work schedule means I’ll probably be pretty scarce on Tumblr for the rest of June, I would love to return to this AU later in the summer. If there are other stories you’d like to see within this universe, please let me know!

Kellen stifled a yawn with the back of her hand, pouring herself a second cup of coffee with the other. From the window above the sink, she could see her son still running circles along the shoreline. As the object of his chase, Cassian ran ahead in stunted steps -- close enough to be caught, but not close enough to remove the challenge entirely.

She joined them outside, giggling to herself as their laughter carried over on the salty breeze. Once she’d laid her towel across the sand, she sat for a moment, watching. Morning coffee may no longer be a private affair, but the change suited her well. Taking a sip from the too-full mug, she couldn’t help smiling as Owen caught and clung onto one of his father’s legs. Those two were thick as thieves.

Cassian had volunteered to keep him occupied during the morning so that she could spend the time adding to the tan she’d started the day before. It was a generous offer, though she knew it had been prompted by at least one ulterior motive: the more worn out Owen was, the longer he’d nap. A longer nap meant more time for the two of them to pursue more...intimate activities.

They’d been on Nantucket for less than twenty-four hours, but already she felt more relaxed than she had in years. Between the sun and the sound of the surf, the time away from work and city life, and the companionship of her little family, she truly lacked for nothing.

Nothing, it seemed, but seashells.

Hurried footsteps startled her out of her sunbathing daze some hour later. She jolted back to reality to find her son before her, holding out a handful of sandy shells. She received them graciously, making room for him to sit next to her on the towel while he babbled on about the things he’d seen and done along the shore.

Cassian caught up to them, an apology in his eyes for the interruption. She smiled in reassurance and dusted off another corner of the towel so that he could join.

“It’s a great day for swimming,” he remarked with his gaze on the horizon.

“It would be even better for sailing,” she challenged, brushing a film of dried sand from Owen’s cheek. “We’ll have to look into boat rentals once he’s a little older. Maybe in a couple of summers?”

Cassian chuckled beside her. “Already planning our next trip?”

“I thought we could make it a tradition. Maybe even buy a house of our own out here someday.”

He fell quiet, though his fingers strayed over to interlace her own. The moment was cut short by Owen’s decision that it was time for a swim, but it was enough for Kellen to take his meaning.

It still felt a bit foreign to talk so freely about the future, even moreso to talk in terms of our and we. Over the past weeks and months, much of the ambiguity about their future had been stripped away. She’d been tiptoeing around the most pressing issue for a while, but she hadn’t taken the plunge quite yet. Soon, she promised herself, cheeks burning as Cassian turned toward her and flashed a winning smile.

She was sure that the smile had been prompted by something their son had done, but she only had eyes for him. Up to his knees in seawater, carrying Owen in his arms, she couldn’t imagine any other path for her future. Maybe soon was even closer than she’d realized.

Kellen fell back to the towel, shielding her eyes from the sun as she considered her options. What was the purpose of prolonging the inevitable? She knew they were going to be together, and marriage was something Cassian clearly wanted. With a dull thrum of regret, she thought of the time their family had already spent fractured apart. She never wanted that kind of separation again. If a wedding meant there would be even more binding them together, how could she say no?

In the distance, she heard the crashing waves and the excited chatter of the two people who meant the most in her life. As she drifted into a light doze, the answer to her question became abundantly clear.

_____

The sand was still warm when she and Cassian ventured back out several hours later. Spreading their blanket wide on the empty beach, she kicked off her shoes and sank onto the pliable ground.

“Just look at that water,” he admired, passing her one of the wine glasses he carried so that he could find a seat next to her. “I know we’ve been out here all day, but the view never gets old.”

Nantucket sunsets were a sight to be remembered, and tonight was no exception. After a full afternoon of swimming and shopping in the local markets, there was nothing she wanted more than the chance to relax with with him.

“It’s good to be back.” Kellen sipped her wine, enjoying the way the light caught the tips of the waves as they rolled in. She could just make out Owen’s static breathing coming through the speaker of the baby monitor as it blended with the ambient noises of the sea.

Resting her cheek on Cassian’s shoulder, she allowed her eyes to close in utter contentment. “This trip is a vast improvement on the last time,” she murmured dreamily.

He shifted slightly beneath her to find her hand. “That’s an understatement.”

Eyes springing open, she set the glass aside and raised her head to glimpse his face. “You mean this is better than the summer we spent being young and stupid and pretending we weren’t head over heels for each other?”

His brow lifted with amusement. “I never want to go back to that stage. I like where we are far too much.”

And what about where we’re going? She asked the question of herself, wondering if now was the time to bring up the subject she’d been considering earlier in the day.

“Where we are is perfect,” he claimed, giving her fingers a meaningful squeeze. Kellen knew his desires enough to understand that there was some amount of compromise in the statement -- no doubt made for her benefit. But she didn’t want that kind of compromise any longer.

“It’s almost perfect,” she corrected, outlining his lower lip with a single finger. “You know what would make it absolutely perfect?”

His initial concern turned to thinly-veiled curiosity. “What’s that?”

“If you went and got that ring that you’ve been carrying around for forever. I know it’s in your suitcase.”

Bewildered, he stretched out a hand to mirror her touch. She held his eyes as he traced from her cheek to her jaw, down to the fine point of her chin. “Really?” the word was rough, as though it had caught in his throat.

Grateful as she was for his determination not to push her, now that her mind was settled, she wanted action. “Yes, really.”

His entire face erupted into a smile, and he pulled her lips to his for a hasty kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t wake Owen!” she reminded with a laugh.

“I won’t,” he promised before disappearing around the side of the cottage. He returned scarcely a minute later, sprinting once he made it to the sand. As he dropped to the blanket before her, the fading light from behind bathed him in a circle of red and gold.

Her breath caught, and she could feel the surging pulse at her throat.

“You’re sure this is what you want?” He checked, noticing her demeanor. At her nod, he rose to one knee and stretched out both hands in invitation.

Kellen took them gladly, stroking his fingers in reassurance. “You’ve practically proposed already, Cassian. I’ve just taken my time saying yes.”

“But we should go out for a fancy dinner, have a moonlit stroll or something… I want it to be the most romantic night you’ve ever had.”

“Hmm. I’m no expert, but something tells me tonight is going to be pretty hard to beat,” she challenged, sitting up on her knees until her eyes were level with his.

“Cassian, I went a summer hiding my true feelings and pushing you away because I thought it would protect me. I spent the next three years wanting to forget you, and I failed miserably. These last nine months, I’ve let you in, and they’ve been the best months of my life. I want a future of holding you close and loving you with everything that I have. Wearing this,” she continued, letting go of his hands to find the small box beside him on the blanket, “is part of how I want to show you that love.”

“And you say you’re not good with words,” he chuckled, almost breathless under the significance of her statement. Cradling her face with both hands, he bent forward and grazed her forehead with his own. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she echoed as he pulled away. “But you have no idea how long it took me to think all of that through. Give me numbers and logic any day… as long as I’ve got you there too.”

“I will be. But can we make this official, first?” He reached for the box, and she surrendered it willingly, every bit as eager as he was to view its contents.

“Kellen, you’re the love of my life. You’re strong and hard working, you’re stunning, you’re funny and fiery and smart -- and I can’t imagine a better mother for our son. Beyond all of those things, you’re the perfect partner for me. Like you said, the last several months have been...incredible,” shaking his head for emphasis, he took a moment before moving on. “I want what we have now to last for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”

“Weren’t you listening before?” she questioned, cheeks aching from the width of her smile. “You know I will.”

“I know,” he assured with a laugh. “But I’ll take any chance I get to remind you how lucky I am that you’re mine. Besides, I’ve gotta let that romantic side out somehow.” Flipping back the lid, he carefully lifted the ring and slipped it onto the appropriate finger.

Kellen nudged the slim stripe of gold with her thumb, doing nothing to disguise her enthusiasm as she inspected the gem. Under the watercolor sky, flecks of every color bounced off each facet of the diamond’s surface. “You did such a good job, Cassian. This is perfect.”

“Just wait ‘til you see it together with the wedding band,” the words were almost shy, as if he couldn’t believe that the conversation was taking place. “And I don’t deserve all of the credit. I took Grainne into confidence: she’s always had an eye for fashion.”

“I think you’re selling yourself short,” she critiqued, remembering all of the times he’d chosen things for her in the past. “But remind me to thank your sister anyway the next time we see her. Grainne’s the only one who knows?”

“She is. I know it hasn’t been a secret for you, but I didn’t want anyone else to find out I’d bought it. You didn’t need that kind of pressure.” Rolling onto his side, he eased himself into the seat next to her.

Taking advantage of his new position, Kellen propped herself up to climb on his lap. The sand shifted beneath her weight, but he extended an arm to hold her steady. Even after she’d made herself comfortable, his hand still rested on her hip. “This is nice,” she remarked, running a finger across the flat of his thumbnail.

“Here.” He stretched away from her, removing the hand for just a moment before it returned, clutching stem of her glass.

Kellen accepted the drink and relaxed against his chest. “Thanks for being so patient with me. It’s just... marriage is a big step. I needed to be sure.”

“I needed you to be sure,” he agreed, absently fiddling with the new addition to her finger. “And this would still be in its box if I thought there was any chance you weren’t.”

“I’m absolutely certain.” She tilted her head back, straining for a view of his face. “You sure you’re ready to be stuck with me for the rest of your life?”

His features lit with a boyish grin. “It’s all I’ve wanted for ages. Though I do have one complaint about the timing: I don’t think I’m going to be able to fall asleep tonight.”

Chuckling under her breath, Kellen tilted her hips into the heat between his thighs. “Do you really think I’d let that happen? I have plans to make sure you’re fully worn out first,” she promised suggestively, smirking as she heard the hitch in his breathing. “But for now, I want to sit with you for awhile and watch the stars come out.”

“That’s perfect.” Spoken at her ear, it came as little surprise when the words ended with a kiss to the sensitive skin behind it.

Shivering into the sensation, her next words were unusually quiet. “And since you’ve been thinking about it for longer than I have, maybe you can start telling me about your perfect wedding.”

He paused for a drink of wine, but held her a little tighter when he resumed. “Well, you’re there with a massive smile on your face--”

“Of course!” she broke in, too excited to regret the interruption.

“The biggest smile you’ve ever had,” he appended. “And Owen should be...”

Though some part of her followed the words, a sudden outpouring of delight made it difficult for her to focus on anything but the unbridled happiness that carried through her veins.

What she’d told him before had been true. She was absolutely certain about spending the rest of their lives together.

For so long, she’d been determined to control it all -- to calculate every aspect of her life and plan it to perfection. Yet now she knew, without a shadow of doubt, that nothing -- no scheme, no equation, no amount of thinking in advance -- could ever have led to something as perfect as the future that now lay before her.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #witness: a bodyguard romance #cassian keane #cassian x mc

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set-phasers-to-whump · 3 years

Text

such wow. many normal. very oops.

Prompt: accidents

Whumpee: Kyle Valenti

Fandom: Roswell New Mexico

hello i had a real good time writing this fic and i actually don’t hate it for once!! i hope you like it too!! also please don’t think too much about like plot and stuff who hit him is Not Important we don’t care lol

The car came out of nowhere. One second, Kyle was jogging across the basically-deserted street on his way home from an errand, and the next, he was on top of the hood of a car, then rolling over it, and then on the ground.

He laid there for a moment, stunned, not thinking. Did I just get hit by a car? he wondered, finally.

A painful stinging across his hands and knees and a general terrible aching across his entire body answered that question well enough. But before he could dwell too much on the extent of the pain that his body was in, Kyle remembered that he was still in the middle of the street, which was not a good place to be.

He slowly pushed himself up, wincing when his scraped-raw hands made contact with the asphalt. Very carefully and very shakily, he stood up, keeping his legs slightly bent in an effort to minimize the pain that his knees were experiencing.

Kyle staggered his way over to the curb, limping heavily, curling one arm around his chest when a sharp twinge told him he’d, at the very least, bruised his ribs. He sank down heavily onto the curb, body trembling with the effort of walking, and took as deep a breath as his hurting ribs would allow.

He then took a second to professionally take stock of his injuries. His head ached, and he felt blood dripping down his forehead from a stinging gash, but he was pretty sure he didn’t have a concussion. His ribs hurt like hell, and his entire torso felt...well, like he’d been hit by a car. Which, obviously, he had. But he didn’t feel any blood, nor any signs that he might have been bleeding internally.

Deeming the pain in his torso nothing that couldn’t be dealt with, he moved on to his hands, which had been scraped bloody and raw from his fall to the ground. They hurt to move, which was unfortunate, but in the end, they were only scrapes, and not too worrying. His knees had fared similarly, though he was pretty sure they’d slammed into the car far harder than his hands had, when he’d thrown himself onto the hood to avoid being flattened. They ached in a way he imagined old peoples’ knees ached, and they were fairly torn up from hitting the road, the blood clearly visible through the now-also-torn knees of his jeans.

Could have been worse, was Kyle’s final judgement. Nothing worth going to the hospital over, he decided, additionally, grateful that there wasn’t anyone around on the street to make that decision for him.

With his mind made up that he would be fine, Kyle figured there was no use sitting around on the ground anymore, so he again slowly pushed himself up, wincing as small bits of gravel caught in his bloody palms, swaying slightly on his feet as a rush of lightheadedness came over him momentarily.

After his head cleared, Kyle stepped up onto the sidewalk, curling his arm back around his ribs and setting off at a very slow limp for home.

He made it through his front door perhaps twenty minutes later, though ordinarily he would have been home in half the time. He’d had to stop three times to catch his breath and practically force his body to keep moving, and he was absolutely exhausted by the time he was closing the door.

He leaned against the wood for a moment, waiting for the pain in his...everywhere...to die down to an acceptable level. Which it did, eventually, and he celebrated that fact by stumbling off to the bathroom, where a large supply of first-aid items and pain medicine awaited.

In the bathroom, Kyle stopped for a moment to lean against the counter, not wanting to sit down before he grabbed everything he needed. He took a few steadying, though not deep, breaths, then opened his cabinets and selected everything he thought he might need.

Finally allowing himself to sit down on the lid of the toilet, Kyle got to work, a process ordinarily just as easily said as done, but currently, one a great deal more difficult than it should have been, owing to the fact that his hands stung every time he used them.

But there was nothing for it, so Kyle simply opened up a bottle of ibuprofen, took the maximum dose, and forced his hands to work.

He started out with his knees, carefully swabbing them out with a cotton ball dipped in hydrogen peroxide. It stung not only on his knees, but on his hands as well, and he nearly dropped the ball on the ground when a particularly large cut on his hand got the liquid in it.

Still, it wasn’t that bad, he knew. Skinned knees were something easily handled by a child, never mind a surgeon. So he gritted his teeth and dealt with it, not bothering to apply bandages because he knew they would just come back off.

Following this, Kyle carefully unbuttoned and removed his shirt. As expected, the area around his ribs was starting to bruise a lovely shade of purple, and there were several other bruises forming across his stomach and arms, and probably his back as well, if the pain there was anything to go by. But there wasn’t anything Kyle could do for these injuries, except wait for them to heal. So he moved on to his hands, which had already been slightly cleaned in the process of cleaning his knees.

He swept away as much dirt and gravel as he could, knowing that he probably should have used a pair of tweezers but sure he’d be unable to operate them with the scraped-up condition of his fingers. He did bandage these injuries, as best as he could, regretting the action almost immediately when he realized he still had to work on his head with his hands’ now even more limited mobility.

He was also going to need to stand up, he realized, which he really hadn’t wanted to do. But, he reflected, he was going to have to get up at some point anyway, so it might as well be now.

He pushed himself up, bracing a hand on the counter, a sensation which felt partly bad, because of the pain, but partly good, because of the cool sensation of the granite under his hands. That’s what I need, he decided. To lie down in the cold and let it freeze everything away.

Unfortunately, that was not very realistic, and Kyle shook off the thought, focusing back on the task of patching himself up. He looked into the mirror. There was a large, shallow, bloody scrape across his forehead, a couple smaller cuts on his cheeks, and a bruise on his jaw. Once again, he counted himself lucky. No broken nose or black eye.

The cut on his forehead was easy enough to patch up, though it continued to bleed into the bandage for longer than Kyle would have liked. The cuts on his cheeks were likewise easy to deal with, and small enough to not warrant the bandages.

Gingerly, he touched his fingers to his bruised jaw, sucking in a sharp breath as he poked the sore skin. That’s that, he thought. Nothing else I can do. He looked around at his now-messy bathroom for a second, dreading the thought of cleaning it up before deciding that could wait until he felt a little less like roadkill.

With that decided, Kyle left the bathroom and headed into the living room, where he turned on the fan as high as it would go and carefully laid himself on the couch. I should have taken a shower, he thought vaguely, the surgeon in him thinking about all the dirt and germs that still covered his body and could lead to infection. Everything hurts too much, was the thought that overruled it, the injured person in him thinking about the fact that he had just been hit by a car.

He sighed, closing his eyes. He’d be fine, he decided. He could take a shower later, and then maybe he’d stop by work and have one of his coworkers give him a once-over. At the moment, though, he was far too tired and far too achy to even consider getting up, let alone giving himself over to be poked and prodded at. All he really wanted to do was sleep.

But of course, sleep never seemed to come when he most wanted it, and for half an hour he just laid there, staring at the fan spinning on the ceiling and trying desperately to fall asleep. But it was no use. He simply couldn’t.

So he did the thing that made sense to him - he picked up his phone with his bandaged hands and clumsily called Alex. Alex could fix anything, he knew, probably even sleeplessness brought about by a car accident.

“What’s up, Kyle?”

“Um...hi,” Kyle replied, suddenly wondering whether calling Alex had been such a good idea. He doesn’t want to be bothered by your very small problems, Kyle thought to himself. What were you thinking?

“Kyle? You okay?”

Kyle shrugged, then remembered Alex couldn’t see him. “No,” he admitted, “but it’s nothing.”

“If it’s bothering you, it’s not nothing,” Alex said, and Kyle wanted to cry. After everything, still Alex was so nice to him, even if his problems really were nothing compared to the kind of problems they’d been dealing with lately.

“I’m sorry,” he said, truthfully, and also not for the first time. “For everything.”

“What do you mean, Kyle?” came Alex’s voice, sounding worried. Kyle hated himself for that. He didn’t want Alex to worry.

“No, no, I just mean...for high school. I know, I know I keep saying it, but I am, I was horrible to you and you’re so nice to me and you’re the best person I know and I don’t know what I did to deserve to have you back in my life but here you are, and you’re my best friend, and...I maybe got hit by a car and everything hurts a lot even though I took like, six ibuprofen, and I can’t fall asleep and I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess, I…” He trailed off, finally, faintly exhausted by the words that had suddenly come spilling out of him, unbidden.

Alex was silent on the other end for a second. “You got hit by a car?”

“Um...yeah.”

“And you’re not at the hospital.”

“No.”

“You’re at home?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t go anywhere, I’m coming.”

Alex hung up then, and Kyle kept laying there, smiling to himself despite everything. Alex is coming, he thought, he’s coming and it’s going to be okay.

A few minutes later, Kyle’s front door was swinging open, causing Kyle to shoot up in mild alarm, then wince audibly as his ribs shouted in protest and his head swam.

There had been no need to worry, anyway, because it was Alex who had come through the door, which, Kyle realized, he hadn’t locked when he’d first stumbled inside.

“Kyle,” Alex said, concerned. “You look like hell.” He crossed the room swiftly, grabbing a pillow from a chair and sticking it behind Kyle’s back. “Lie back down,” he instructed, and Kyle did.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, as Alex gently poked at him. “Ow,” he added, as Alex hit an especially sore spot on his ribs.

“”Sorry,” Alex said, stopping his poking. “I guess you did all this already, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kyle replied. “It sucked.”

“I bet.”

Alex moved from next to him then, and sat down on the end of the couch, carefully picking up Kyle’s legs and draping them back across his lap. “You tired?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Kyle said, though he was sure Alex could believe.

“Think you can sleep now?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said. Now that you’re here, he didn’t say, not that he supposed Alex couldn’t figure that fact out.

“And you’re sure you don’t need the hospital?”

“Yes, mom,” Kyle said, already feeling himself falling asleep. “It’s not that bad.”

Alex sighed, clearly annoyed. “You got hit by a car, Kyle. That’s bad by default.”

“Mm.”

“I know you’re tired, and I’m not going to keep you up, but don’t think we’re done talking about this,” Alex said, his voice soft but leaving no room for argument.

“‘Kay,” Kyle replied, and then Alex gave his leg a gentle, reassuring pat, and Alex himself gave him a promise that he’d be there when Kyle woke up, and then at long last the pain started to fade, and he fell asleep.

thanks so much for reading this!!! i really hope you liked it :)

#whumptober2020 #no.28 #accidents #roswell new mexico #fic #kyle valenti #car accident #my writing #I say things #pre-kylex ish

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nomadmilk · 5 years

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Why the God Isn’t Bored on Midgard - Loki x F!Reader Drabble – 2

Summary: With Ragnarok decimating Asgard, Thor and Loki and their people return to Earth searching for refuge. Everyone else has seemed to settle, except for Loki - the God of Mischief and Chaos - who isn’t willing to live the domesticated Midgard life, and getting utterly bored out of his mind... Until he discovered you.

Word Count: 1.6K (Is this a drabble anymore?)

Warnings: Rated M/18+ Almost nudity, and sexually suggestive themes. uh... Uh... Swearing.

Author’s Note: I have been racking on a next chapter for this as the response to the first piece was better than I expected [And I am super grateful for all the love it got ^o^ <3]. But I ended up writing things that felt too rushed, and/or something I wasn’t happy with, and got caught in some ruts. So, I LITERALLY started and finished this in a day, and now I’m uploading it after AGES of deliberating about it. I honestly want this series to be something I can have fun with, so I’m really sorry if uploading parts take a long time. Hope you enjoy!! ^-^

Links to other parts of the series: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 (First Half) Part 8.5 (Second Half) Part 9

Since Loki’s move in, he hardly saw you in the apartment.

Whilst you had agreed to cohabitate with him, you weren’t exactly too happy with it; when he had his breakfast, you barely had anything but a hot drink before leaving. When it came to night time, Loki would find himself waking up to the sound of the door opening and you returning from an entire day of not being around.

When he realized this was a regular occurring pattern, Loki was curious as to what you got up to. However, when he recognized that he was feeling this way towards you, he ceased it; what ever you did was your business, and if living with you was like this, he was going to just let you be. It wasn’t like he wanted your company, anyway.

But he was definitely bored.

His days had been limited to libraries and coffee, but the God of Mischief can only do so much with books and hot beverages. As he finished and picked up new books, he was starting to get almost despondent towards Midgardian Literature, and even got Thor to see if S.H.E.I.L.D hid any Asgardian novels in their vaults.

Loki was tempted to break in himself but thought it wise to not tamper with his ‘bad-guy-turned-good’ image. But it nevertheless sparked his need for trouble; he almost got an inkling of that over a latte that had a love heart drawn on top of it. All it took was a gesture of his fingers to turn that heart into something else, and maybe that would sate him a little. Or maybe he should cast an illusion that something was inside, and Loki could sit and watch this person unfold into this crazy person paranoid that Fenrir was inside his coffee cup…

It seemed like Fury could sense his mind of chaos from where he stood and, with you out of the apartment again, visited Loki as soon as possible.“How about getting a job?”

Loki sat on the opposite side of the table, eyeing the agent. “A job?”

“You wanna’ stay on Earth, you gotta’ earn your keep.”

The chaotic god smirked. “I don’t work.”

“We can find something that could utilize your talents.”

“If that were the case, I would be at the Avengers headquarters on my first mission already.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then you’d know I’d be an excellent spy working for S.H.E.I.L.D.”

“Something tells me you don’t take orders well.”

The Prince smirk grew wider; he would surely be a valuable asset regardless.

Fury sifted through his jacket pockets to slide him a business card. “You have an interview tomorrow at 12 at this place.”

Loki scoffed, not touching the card and barely glancing at what it was. “And if I refuse?”

“I hear Brunnhilde needs a cleaner.”

With that, and knowing Brunnhilde’s habits, Loki took the card.

Meanwhile with you, the past few months has been shaping up to becoming the start of the worst year of your life. You had moved away from your hometown to be with your long-term boyfriend, only to be dumped a couple of weeks or so in cohabiting. You luckily had the apartment, and your ex had moved out after finding a new home.

However, things didn’t fare any better.

You had been bouncing from job to job until you finally found one you were able to cope in. Your colleagues were jerks, and the pay was abysmal, but you managed to do the desk work, and it gave you enough money to get by. Then you had to be let go because of company budget cuts.

And then now you had to deal with your new living situation. You avoided him as much as possible; never making eye contact, no small talk, and you usually left the premise before he took a step out of his bedroom. You admit it was a bit of a hassle, but you weren’t just going to make friends with someone that just wanted to push themselves into your life. So, you kept yourself occupied with job interviews, drinks with friends, and, eventually, dating.

It’s been a while since you’ve met new people, but it wasn’t too difficult to get into the groove of socializing and seeing new faces. The dates have been over lunch, or dinner, or coffee. Sometimes dates weren’t over a table but to a movie, bowling, and one time you were taken to a racing track. All of the people you met were luckily super fun and sweet.

You had a good time, but there was no spark. You didn’t even know if you were looking for anyone right now; you were just happy having fun little dates here and there.

On one date, it had ended short; the guy had an emergency, and you weren’t too bothered whether the situation was genuine, or if it was a scapegoat cause the date was going stale for him. So, you headed home; you had another lined up for the evening over dinner with a hot doctor.

You arrive at the apartment, unlock the door and push it open.

“Oh. My. God.”

Your brown sofa was replaced with one of those angular, L-shaped couches. The photos of you, and your family were taken down. Your book shelf was replaced with a new glass shelving with books of a language you couldn’t even understand. He took out your T.V, and your kitchen, with all of its doilies and its gas stove and the patterned kitchen towel matching your oven mitts, was replaced with white and black marble counters and an electric oven.

Stunned in silence, you hear a faint sound of water running in the direction of the bathroom. He must have renovated that too… When did he have time to do all of this? Did that ass of a landlord approve all of this? If he didn’t, and the case was that your roommate went ahead with it anyway, you would have to commend him for standing his ground.

You walk over to the kitchen; the monochrome tone continuing to confuse and awe you at the same time. You weren’t sure whether you were mad or in fascination of everything. You turn around, noticing the sound of the shower coming from one door where a slight steam was emitting from the gaps. You approached the other door beside it, turning the knob to reveal a hallway with two more doors and, what looked like, a small library at the end of the hall.

There was no way he could have done any of this all in one day. And you weren’t even out that long.

The bathroom door swings open, scaring you a little towards the sight of Loki.“H-“

Your jaw drops and shuts.

Loki was naked, and the only thing keeping him decent was towel wrapped around his waist.

Your face reddens, and your eyes hastily evade eye contact from him. “A-are you done?”

His furrowed eyes bore into your skin. “Good afternoon.”

You tut, finally having the courage to look at him. Focusing on his eyes was proving to be challenging. “Are you done? With-“ – you were trying to find the words. – “With the shower?”

He was obviously done, but he hadn’t dried himself properly; he stands there, black hair straggled in water and in need of a brush. His forearms seemed firm and toned, his abdomen muscled and sculpt. His shoulders were broad and, although he did look lithe and lean when you last saw him, evidence proved otherwise.

You didn’t dare to look any further down his stature.

“Yes, I’m all finished.” He coughed, sauntering slowly towards you.

“Ah!” You jolt a step backwards and wave a cautionary hand at him. You feel your face redden some more. “Uh, great. I’m gonna’- uh – where’s my room?”

“Down the hallway.” He replies, squinting at your hand in front of him. “The door on the right.”

Mumbling a word of gratitude, you follow his directions, missing the handle of the door before quickly grasping it again and pushing yourself into the room. You slam the door behind you, and your back immediately hits its cool surface. You slide down, your knees huddle to your chest in humiliation and slight panic.

What the hell happened? It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen naked men before; you’ve had your fair share of athletic bods, slim bods, dad bods… But nothing ever made you speechless. Maybe you weren’t expecting his body to be that attractive…

You close your eyes, and see his face, then his body, then his gorgeous blue-green eyes…

“Fuck.” Your face buries into your palms as you noticed these, almost juvenile, emotions. Your heart could not stop beating so loudly, and a knot was forming from a place that ached to be touched. You desist the feeling by squeezing your thighs close together.

You rub your face, pretending your hands were wiping the embarrassment off your visage, and glance around your room. With all the changes he had done to the apartment, your room remained unchanged, completely untouched except for the positioning of the room in the apartment.

For some reason, your undisturbed room gives you a sense of ease, and you steady yourself up to your feet to grab a towel. You needed to get ready for your evening dinner and, if you were going to some urges, you were hoping that your date was going to allow you to act upon it.

Loki was left in the hallway, smiling to himself. It’s been a while since he’s seen someone feel so uneasy with his presence. It felt strangely familiar, but exciting that he couldn’t help but glance towards the direction you disappeared, hoping to see your flustered face all over again.

If he knew it was this easy to mess with you, he wouldn’t have taken Nick Fury’s job offer. And, since the interviewers hired him on the spot, all his spare time was going to have to be dedicated towards it.

But he wasn’t too worried; he was sure he could find the time for you.

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bitchin-beskar · 3 years

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of all the stupid, reckless things...

Rating: T (minor violence, mentions of throwing up, some kissing)

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Did I stay up to watch Episode 9 of the Mandalorian on the day it released? Yes. Did I proceed to write this fic after watching Episode 9 twice in a row? Also yes. I saw this scene and immediately a fic idea showed itself to me as if in a vision. So, here it is, written less than 24 hours after season 2 premiered!

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment! I love the feedback!

PLEASE BE WARNED. THIS STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 9 OF THE MANDALORIAN. IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN 2x01 DO NOT READ (unless you’re into spoilers and stuff)

“What are you gonna do?”

Din looks over at Vanth. “I don’t know, but wish me luck.” Activating Vanth’s jet pack, he sends him away. He turns to you. “Go! Protect the kid!”

Din shouts his last command at you before taking the detonator and standing right in the path of the krayt dragon. You’re stunned, frozen in place for a moment before you manage to get your limbs moving, sprinting towards the canvas bag that holds the Child.

Your blaster is shaking in your grasp, not from fear of the dragon, but out of worry for Din. He can get... reckless, when it comes to keeping both you and the kid safe, and you’re terrified this is another one of those moments when Din forgets he’s not actually made of beskar.

You hear the people from Mos Pelgo gasp, and you whirl around, just in time to see the dragon lunge forward, jaw opened wide to swallow both the bomb-laden bantha and your Mandalorian whole.

“MANDO!”

Your scream echoes, bouncing off the huge rock formation in front of you. You immediately try to rush forward, desperately diving towards the shifting sand where the krayt dragon and Din disappeared, when strong arms wrap around you to keep you back.

You struggle, clawing at your captor, but it’s no use. The grip is stronger than beskar, and you sink to your knees, your mouth open in a silent scream.

The others, Tuskens and residents of Mos Pelgo alike are staring at you, but you couldn’t care less. Faintly, you can hear the Child whimpering, and it breaks through the fog that clouds your mind. You start to push against Vanth again, but this time trying to get to the baby who’s about to have a full-on meltdown.

He lets you go, and you stagger over on unsteady feet, picking up the small, whimpering child. He immediately latches on to the fabric of your shirt, burying his face as his tiny body begins to shake.

Sinking to your knees, you cradle the Child, tears of your own rolling down your cheeks. There’s silence all around you, and it only makes you want to cry harder.

Beneath your knees, the ground begins to rumble. You want to scream and cry, to yell about how it isn’t fair that the stupid dragon already ate Din, and it didn’t even have the decency to die. A shadow falls over you, and you look up to see Vanth standing in front of you, guarding you, although you’re sure the both of you know there’s little either of you can do if the dragon decides it wants to eat either of you next.

Your vision is blurred from tears as you watch the krayt dragon spring from the sand, howling in... wait, was it in pain? You can see a faint blue glow coming from the mouth of the beast, but before you can even begin to think about what that means, the dragon lets out a scream, electricity illuminating the figure that bursts forth from the dragon’s mouth.

Your jaw drops as you realize it’s Din, his jet pack propelling him up and away from the creature, right before a giant explosion tears apart the middle of the dragon. It’s death cry is haunting, but you only have eyes for the beskar-clad Mandalorian that’s shakily landing in front of you, green fluids covering him from head to toe.

You can hear the people around you beginning to rush forward towards the now-dead krayt dragon, Vanth included, but you only have eyes for Din. The Child coos and reaches for him, and you shakily hold him out for Din to grab.

They have a quiet moment, and you take the time to collect yourself, wiping tears from your cheeks and calming your racing heartbeat. He’s here, in front of you. Din’s safe, he’s not dead in the belly of a krayt, he’s alive, and whole, and here.

Din turns to set the Child back down in his little canvas bag, but before he can turn to you, Vanth is calling for him. Din pauses, his helmet turned toward you, but you shake your head.

“Go. I’m fine. See what our friends need.”

Din hesitates for another moment before nodding sharply, turning and walking towards the group of people surrounding the carcass.

Your breath wooshes out of your lungs, and you collapse inelegantly onto the hot sand. You put your head down, elbows balanced on your knees as you try to stave off the intense feelings of panic that have been struggling to surface since you saw Din get swallowed.

You sit there for a long time, and before you realize it, it’s started to get dark. The others have set up tents and campfires to ward off the cold, and you belatedly realize you’re shivering. You’re in the middle of trying to work up the energy to stand when a shadow falls over you.

Looking up, you see Din, holding his hand out. You take it gratefully, allowing the Mandalorian to practically lift you off your feet with the speed and power he pulls you up with. Your hand lands on his cuirass for balance, and for a moment, the two of you stand there in silence, your face so close to Din’s visor that for a moment, you think you see him blink.

One of the Tuskens calls out to Din, and with a hand on the small of your back, he leads you over to the nearest campfire. There’s a spot for the two of you, and you sit once more on the sand.

Din engages in conversation with the Tusken on his right, but he keeps his hand placed on the ground behind you, his arm resting ever so slightly against your back. You stare at the flames, almost in a trance, your mind still struggling to compartmentalize the absolutely insane range of emotions you’ve experienced in the last few hours.

One of the Tuskens from another campfire walks over with some bowls of food. You’re offered meat, and you’re pretty sure it’s dead krayt dragon. You stare unblinking at the bowl for a moment before the sudden urge to throw up overcomes you.

Shaking your head, you stutter an apology before you’re on your feet, running out of the camp, behind one of the far tents, collapsing to your knees and dry heaving. Earlier, you’d been kicking yourself for not eating, but now, you’re grateful, because there’s nothing in your system to throw up.

When your stomach decides to stop rebelling, you moan quietly and slump over, your entire body trembling slight from the cold and from the force of your heaving.

A warm hand on your back startles you, and you weakly lift your head to see Din crouched next to you, his helmet on the sand next to him, dark brown eyes staring at you in concern.

Neither of you say anything, the silence hanging between the two of you thick and uncomfortable. It’s clear Din doesn’t know what to say, and you’re not exactly sure either. As you study his features, a small part of your mind decides to remind you that you almost lost him earlier, and your next action is less of a decision and more of a reflex.

Reaching out, you place your hands on Din’s cheeks, pulling him to you and kissing him desperately.

He’s startled, and flails a little bit to try and regain his balance, but he quickly gets with the program, kissing you back with just as much desperation. His hand is still resting on your back, the other planted in the sand to keep the both of you upright.

His lips fit perfectly against yours, and if it were any other time, you’d know exactly what would come next.

But it’s not any other time, it’s right now, and Din almost died today, and that panicked thought propels you forward, pushing Din back and quickly straddling his lap, fingers tangling in his hair as you reassure yourself that he’s still alive and with you.

You thank the Maker that Din understands, his arm sliding around your waist to keep you steady, letting you plunder his mouth as you reaffirm the fact that he’s in front of you, between your thighs, not being digested in the gastrointestinal system of a krayt dragon.

Din lets you control the kiss for a little bit, knowing how much you need this before slowly starting to take that control back. His grip on you becomes firmer, more secure, and his kisses become more demanding. Your panicked thoughts have calmed enough that you allow him to lead, letting him reassure himself that you’re still safe, alive, and well.

When the two of you finally part, you don’t go far, pressing your face into the fabric bunched at Din’s neck, letting him stroke your hair, breathing deeply as his scent calms you further.

“Are you alright, cyar’ika?”

Oh Maker, you want to cry.

“Am I alright? Din, you’re the one who was eaten by a dragon! I should be asking you that.”

Din sighs. “I’m fine, I promise.” He shifts, pulling back slightly so that he can get you to look at him. “But sweetheart, you’re scaring me. You’re pale and shaking, you haven’t eaten.” He sighs again. “So, I’ll ask again. Are you alright?”

A watery chuckle escapes your throat, tears filling your eyes for the second or third time in as many hours. “No, I’m not fine Din. I thought you died.” A shudder runs through your body at the word. “The–The panic that I felt? The absolute terror when I saw that stupid dragon swallow you whole, I–”

You stop, forcing yourself to look Din in the eyes. “Of all the stupid, reckless things you’ve done Din Djarin, that one is at the top of the list.” You try to make your voice stern, but it’s shaking a little too much to manage that.

Din’s eyes soften as he stares at you. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I put you through that.” His fingers trail over your cheek, wiping away some of the tears. “You have to know, I’d do it again a thousand times to keep you and the Child safe.”

Your bottom lip trembles, and you nod before pressing your lips against Din’s again. As you kiss Din again and again, sitting on the sandy ground behind a Tusken tent in the Tatooine twilight, you thank whatever gods or deities might exist that your stupid, reckless Mandalorian is still here with you.

Tags: @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379, @marydjarin, @perropascal, @mxndoscyarika, @hayley-the-comet, @phoenixhalliwell, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any future works!

#fics #no use of y/n #reader #reader fic #writing #din djarin #the mandalorian #the Mandalorian spoilers #din x reader #violence #some kissing #mentions of death #MAJOR SPOILERS #do not read if you haven’t seen episode 9

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janelevy · 4 years

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the ladies go bowling!

this was a request from @thena0315 but i’m almost positive this ended up straying from what you imagined it would be, so my apologies haha!

summary: the ladies of med go out for the night to have some fun. to be honest this turned into an absolute crackfic because i ended up making fun of the crazy crap the med writers have inflicted on the women in this show. i got some hella bad news today so i really needed to make myself laugh, and this helped! i hope y’all like it too <3

mentions of cheating, sexcel (barely), and reesker!

“I can’t believe you’re making us go bowling.”

Natalie stopped and stared at Ava with her mouth hanging open in disbelief. “Hey! What’s wrong with bowling?” She motioned at the building in front of them. “I take Owen here all the time. It’s really nice.”

April smirked. “I don’t know, I sooner would’ve expected you to take us to an orchestra or opera concert or something.”

“Why would I take you to an orchestra when you can hear me play the violin in the comfort of my living room?” Natalie asked, adding an eye roll to show she was joking.

Despite that, Sarah frowned and clicked her teeth nervously. She was the last person to hop out of Natalie’s massive SUV. Nat claimed it wasn’t a minivan - it was a Honda Pilot or something like that - but with plenty of interior space and seven seats, it may as well have been a van.

“Your living room? With your kid’s toys all over the floor to, like, trip on? No thanks,” Sarah said.

Maggie crossed her arms at the youngest doctor. “Hey, Reese, be nice. You know Nat is the cleanest one out of all of us.”

“Still, though. Children make me nervous,” Sarah replied.

“Why?”

“I dunno... they’re just. A lot to handle all at once. I can deal with craziness from adults, we do that at work every day, but kids... yikes.”

They all pretended not to notice the way Ava’s hand slid comfortingly down Sarah’s arm, nor the way Sarah’s shoulder lingered close to the surgeon’s as they walked inside the bowling alley. To help conceal her surprise at that, Natalie gave an exaggerated sigh. “Ugh, it’s so hard being the only mom in the friend group sometimes. You’ll understand someday when you have kids of your own.”

April nodded, but Ava snorted. “Bold of you to assume we - she will have kids.” She was quick to correct herself, but they all still caught her misstep. Maggie leaned close to April and muttered in her ear, “I wish Monique and Doris could’ve come along to hear this.”

The place was pretty busy for a random Thursday night. The five of them had decided to go out after work together since their shifts all ended around the same time and the day had been fairly quiet, so nobody was drop-dead exhausted (yet). They all piled into Nat’s car in the hospital parking lot; someone suggested going to drink and dance at Molly’s, but it was shot down and somehow they ended up here of all places. A couple of kids high on nachos and fruit punch sprinted past them screaming, and Sarah grimaced.

They all chipped in to buy an hour of bowling along with five pairs of stinky, well-worn bowling shoes. Of course they’d seen and smelled much worse, so the shoes weren’t a huge issue. As they headed over, Natalie at the lead, she asked, “Wait, which lane are we at again?”

“Trauma three,” Maggie answered automatically. It was only when the others started laughing that she understood her mistake. “Oops. I meant lane three. It’s been a long day.”

For the most part, they passed time with small talk and cheering on each other’s utter fails. Nearly every time Sarah’s ball landed in the gutters, and Maggie’s ball had a knack for slipping right in between easily hittable pins. Of course only Nat seemed to have some talent, but that could be accounted to her frequent weekend visits with Owen.

About halfway through April bought everyone a plate of crappy bowling alley nachos to share. “Bet eating these won’t land us right back at work,” Ava joked. Sarah dropped a plastic cheese laden chip in her mouth and went to take her turn. The first round she hit two pins, and the next none. This was really going great.

Then she went back to where the others were sitting and was greeted with complete silence. It was like a solid brick wall of silence, in fact. Sarah halted, the soles of her too-small bowling shoes screeching on the floor. All four of her coworkers were just sitting, staring at each other in apparent shock. “What?” Sarah demanded. “I’m not that bad, am I? Remember that time Ava’s ball didn’t touch a single pin two turns in a row? That was, like, twenty minutes ago.”

“It’s, uh...” Natalie gulped and shook her head quickly. “It’s nothing.”

“It obviously wasn’t,” Sarah countered. She chuckled nervously and stepped up on the platform where the table was. “Seriously, what happened?”

Ava swallowed her bite of nacho and gestured at Natalie. “Nat here shared that she thinks her lovely ex Philip is stalking her. I just did surgery with Connor on that prick’s daughter. See? No big deal.” Then she shoved another nacho in her mouth, neon orange cheese dripping on the table.

The pattern of big revelations during Sarah’s turn to bowl was far from over, of course. Next time she went, she was three pins away from what would’ve been a miracle strike, and again when she returned to her friends, nobody uttered a peep.

“What now?” Sarah said, face falling.

Ava jabbed a finger in Maggie’s direction. “She forged Nat’s signature to get Ben out of the hospital last week, then sneaked him back in as if nothing happened.”

By the third time, this was really getting old. Sarah walked up to the table of stunned women and she almost swore from the glint in Ava’s hazel eyes that she was enjoying this drama.

“Well?” Sarah growled. “What did I miss now?”

“April cheated on Ethan and kissed Crockett yesterday.” Ava polished off the nachos, and every crunch grated on Sarah’s nerves.

“Maybe I just shouldn’t even go for my next turn,” Sarah said, sitting back down as April got up to go. “Apparently you all choose to say something interesting when I’m gone.”

Ava winked. “Maybe that’s not a coincidence.”

When Sarah’s final turn rolled around a few minutes later, she honestly did not want to vacate the area. It was too tempting to stick around and see what would be revealed next. But they insisted nothing would happen and shooed her away. Sarah didn’t even care which direction her bowling ball went; she dropped it on the floor and practically kicked it to get it moving faster. Somehow, though, she still missed it despite making every effort to rush through her turn.

Sarah zoomed back to the table, panting, and looked around at the thoroughly shook expressions on everyone’s faces. “Come on!” she whined. She swung her head toward Ava. “What happened?”

Ava smiled widely at her. “Well, Reese, I let it slip that we eloped six months ago so I wouldn’t get deported to South Africa.”

Sarah knew her jaw had to be on the floor at this point. A flash of anger passed through her only to be replaced with relief. “Well,” she sighed, shrugging. “At least now we can kiss and hold hands in front of everyone at work. I was really getting tired of hiding it.” She dropped down to perch herself on Ava’s lap and grinned politely at the others. “Anyway, I think you all might need some help.” She threw her arm behind Ava’s shoulders and planted a big kiss on her cheek. “You know, guys, I actually really like bowling. It’s like, super therapeutic, even better than Dr. Charles. We should do this again for sure. Ooh, and can we invite Elsa next time?”

Ava laughed, but all that she got in response otherwise was stunned silence.

Then April asked, “So... are we just gonna forget what happened with your dad, or?”

Natalie leaned over the table to look at Ava. “Ava, how’s Cornelius Rhodes doing?”

Sarah and Ava frowned at each other. Oh, shit.

#chicago med #sarah reese #ava bekker #april sexton #natalie manning #maggie lockwood #reesker #fanfic

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probably-writing-x · 5 years

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Change of scene.

"Alright, good morning guys!" You begin, arm held outstretched in front of you as you chat to the camera, "I'm in a bit of a rush because, as usual, I left things too late this morning!"

You reach for your keys from the counter and sling your gym bag over your shoulder.

"But, that's fine, I'm just off to the gym and then I'm going to something you're probably not used to seeing on this channel," You laugh, heading to the front door of your house, "But you'll have to wait and see what that one is! For now, I need to get going,"

Switching off the camera, you head out of your place and shuffle your rucksack on your back before setting off into a jog toward the gym. You had Lemonade blasting in your earphones and empty London streets ahead so made the most of your motivation to run today, getting there in record time with sweat already glistening against your forehead.

"Excuse me, (Y/n)?" Someone unknown calls from behind you and you spin around to see a young girl stood a little across the path.

"Hey!" You smile, pulling out your earphones and making your way over.

"I'm sorry but I'm such a huge fan!" She exclaims, "You're absolutely stunning and I love watching how much you've progressed,"

"Awww thank you so much darling!" You grin, "Can I hug you?"

She gladly accepts the offer and the two of you take a few photos.

"I'll see you soon!" You wave goodbye, pulling out your camera to speak to your vlog again.

The gym's air conditioning hits you instantly and you sigh at the relieving chill.

"Alright, so we're back at the gym, I've just met an absolutely adorable viewer," You begin to explain, "And she's absolutely inspired me to start back to work here again. I'm hoping for some PB's in my squat and, deadlift today so we need to go hard,"

You drop your bag on the gym floor and smile at how empty it is already - your only company being the few personal trainers that were busy cleaning the machines.

"We're going to start with some resistance squats just to warm up a little though," You nod and set your camera down for a time lapse at the edge of the gym, giving a field of view of your length of squats.

This gym had become like a second home to you over recent years as you had built up your dedication to fitness more and more. Now, workouts and body building had become the basis of some sort of career for you. And you were lucky enough that people enjoyed watching your videos about such journey - making you live a life you weren't even sure could be real sometimes.

It isn't long into your workout that your music cuts out and you glance over at your phone to see an incoming facetime call from 'Spidey🕷️'

"You're finally up I see," You laugh as you answer the call, sitting down on the mat and settling your phone against your bent knee.

"Where were you this morning?" Tom yawns and turns over in the bed, tucking a pillow beneath his arm and snuggling into it - you knew it would be the one you slept on last night.

"I had to get home early and I didn't want to wake you," You smile, "So I just left you to it,"

He pouts and closes his eyes, "I felt like a one night stand," But he can't help but smirk at his words, poking one eye open to still look at you.

You hum with sarcastic tone, "That's a long one night stand, Holland,"

He chuckles and the sound is an octave deeper than normal, laced with his prolonged desperation to go back to sleep, "Why are you already at the gym?" He groans

"Because I have a busy day ahead of me," You roll your eyes, "Speaking of which,"

Leaning behind your phone, you grab your camera and press record once again.

"I need you to meet me in about two hours at an address that I'll text to you, can you do that babe?"

Tom raises his brows but his eyes refuse to follow suit as they still adjust to the brightness of the screen, "Where are you taking me, darling?"

"You'll have to wait and see," You laugh and your lips curl into a grin.

Your boyfriend can't help but find the joy infectious as he reciprocates your little smile, "Alright, beautiful, I better get my arse out of bed,"

You chuckle and turn off the recording, knowing your fans would go crazy for the little snippet of your relationship.

"Okay, babe, I'll see you soon," You beam and blow him a kiss.

Tom waves tiredly before ending the call, leaving you with the clear knowledge that he wouldn't be getting out of bed any time soon.

~~~

You step out of the gym shower and run the towel once more over the back of your neck, shaking it through your hair to dry that a little before throwing it to your bag.

Perfect timing to go and meet Tom.

A little explanation was probably in order... Ever since you'd met Tom, it had always been a running joke that the two of you were complete polar opposites. He had the background in gymnastics, the arts and dancing. And you were a progressing bodybuilder, spending a lot of your time with weights in your hands or a treadmill under your feet. Complete opposites that managed to attract a lot better than expected. So, you decided today could be the day when you let those worlds collide. And, to do that, you'd booked out a dance studio for a few hours for him to teach you some ballet.

"Alright, so I'm just on my way to meet Tom, hopefully the traffic isn't too bad because I want to be there before him ideally," You explain, chattering away to your camera as you climb into the waiting Uber outside.

Luckily, you get to the destination in quick time and you can't see Tom anywhere near.

And, as if he really did have Spidey sense, his Uber pulls round the corner just as you turn around.

"Hello darling!" He beams like he hasn't seen you in forever, hopping out of the car and wrapping you in his arms, "I've missed you,"

"You saw me last night, plenty of me," You roll your eyes and he chuckles deeply in response.

"What are we doing here?" He frowns, glancing at the grand building behind you.

You pull out the camera and focus it on him, "We're going dancing!" you wiggle your brows and he drops his jaw a few inches.

"We're doing what?!"

"You're going to teach me some ballet," Your lips curl into a bold smile and you turn the camera so it points at both of you, "Am I just the best girlfriend ever?"

"Honey," He laughs, "I can't wait to see this!"

~~~

Soon enough, you and Tom are in your own company in the grand studio - sunlight spilling through floor length windows and onto the cold floorboards.

"Where do we start, Holland?" you clap your hands together, setting down the camera with a good view of the two of you.

"Are we seriously doing something?" He shakes his head but can see the determination in your eyes, "Alright, love, over here,"

Tom positions himself by the bar running across the wall and holds it with one hand, falling easily into a typical dancer position you didn't know the name of with his arm curled in front of him.

"How the fuck do I do that?" You exclaim, out-turning your feet and tripping over your leg, falling forward and catching yourself only just before things went really bad.

Tom looks at you with a sort of laugh, sort of sigh, "This isn't starting well,"

"Come on, no, no, I'm trying, I am," You shake it off, stepping in front of him with evident attempt to replicate his posture.

His hands fall to the curve of your waist as he perfects your positioning, "There she goes!" He grins, flicking his eyes to the camera, "Alright, now this,"

He outstretches his leg to the side, lowering on his height before rising to his toes. Truly, you try your best to replicate but the effort is flawed in its success.

"I mean, you're getting there," He smirks.

"Go on then, show me your skills Thomas," you cock a brow, turning and leaning your elbows against the bar to leave the floor as his open stage.

He lingers his look on you for a little and shifts the khaki material covering his torso, "Alright,"

He steps out into the centre and aligns his form, rising to the balls of his feet before breaking into a continuous spin, twirling around the floor like you'd never stop him.

"Oh you show off!" You exclaim, running up to him and lifting him from the ground, his legs flailing into the air. It was something you did more and more now you were strong enough to lift more than his weight.

"(Y/n)!" He squeals before you drop him down gracefully to the floor, spinning him out of your hold.

"And, thank you very much," You take a gracious bow and Tom keeps hold of your hand, looking at you with a mix of adoration and shock.

"You blow my mind," He mumbles under his breath and you're grateful that it won't be picked up on the microphone of your camera.

You hurry over to the camera and pick it up, "Alright, I'm going to stop recording and get back to you in a little while where I'll be an absolute professional at this!"

For the next hour or so, Tom teaches you as much as your non-graceful actions can take. Every so often, he'll teach you some sort of couple's spin and make sure to catch your lips in a kiss when you are near him. He'll teach you a certain lift or hold and you're sure it's supernatural for your muscles to tingle so much under his hold. And you are utterly terrible at ballet! But that glimmer in his eye when he's dancing or the adoration when he sees you try to do the same is enough to keep you going.

"So, thoughts on your first time with ballet?" Tom asks as the two of you lean up against the wall of mirrors behind you, both sat against cold tile floor.

"It was certainly... Different," You laugh, wiping away some of the stray hairs that had stuck to the outline of your face thanks to the glimmer of sweat that had arisen there.

"I think maybe bodybuilding is a better option for you," He nods and you watch the way his lips curl into a delicate smirk.

"I think you just feel threatened by my talent, Holland,"

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland @fanficparker @xxtomxo

#tom #tom holland #tom imagine #tom blurb #tom drabble #tom one shot #tom request #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland drabble #tom holland one shot #tom holland request #tom x reader #tom x you #tom x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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oh-ranpo · 5 years

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nothing but a number. (12)

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader AN: The last chapter! I am heartbroken this is over, but I am so thankful for everyone who has supported this story! I am sorry that it’s so short, but I wanted to leave it a little open ended that was open to your individual interpretation. I now have two Joe Mazzello’s and a Ben Hardy in the works, and hopefully another Gwilym at some point. All my tag lists (excluding this one of course) are open again since I have decided not to post from my phone anymore. Just send me an ask or a message and I will get you added!

YN YLN seen out on the town once again with new bf, actor Gwilym Lee, looking cozier than ever.

You smiled down at your phone, which was a rapid change from how you used to read these headlines. A picture of you and Gwilym was plastered across the top of the webpage, your arms wrapped around his waist and his arm draped over your shoulder, his head bent down to place a kiss into your hair. You felt your heart skip over how things had changed over the past three months.

Things between you ang Gwilym had gotten better and better. After he flew to meet you that third day of your press tour, things had heated up quickly. He wasn’t able to stay more than a day, but he still came to visit you in Berlin before you left for Japan, and was the first one to greet you at the airport when you had returned back home. Being able to openly tell him you loved him, and being able to show affection to him in public was absolutely perfect.

Now, you stood in front of the mirror of your hotel room bathroom, getting ready to walk down the red carpet for your first big-screen movie. There was rustling from the other room as you set your phone down, and Gwilym appeared in the mirror behind you. He was wearing a simple black three-piece suit that made your entire body tremble when you looked at him. You spun to face him, giving him a smile as he looked over your shoulder to fix his tie.

“Does this look alright?” he asked, moving his hands out of the way so that you could take a good look at him. Your hands slowly trailed up his chest to pull the tie just a little bit tighter, and then you smoothed it down against his shirt.

“You look fantastic,” you replied, leaning up on your tiptoes to press a kiss against the underside of his jaw. His stubble tickled your nose and lips, but it was a feeling that you had long grown used to.

When you took a step back from him, his hands found yours and he spun you around slowly so that your dress could fan out around you. His blue eyes went wide and an adoring smile formed on his lips.

“You look absolutely stunning. This red-carpet look suits you. But then again, any look suits you.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and your eyes dropped to the floor in embarrassment. Even after being together for a little over four months, he was still able to make your heart skip with just a few words. You started to get caught up in the feeling of having him so close to you, when your phone vibrated against the countertop, forcing your attention away from him.

Gwilym’s hand dropped from yours, and you turned to see who had texted you. You smiled when you saw Ben’s name, as he was texting you to tell you that the limo would be there any minute.

“I guess we should probably get downstairs,” you said, as you made your way out of the bathroom to grab your purse and shoes. You felt the nerves start to bubble up again over the reminder of what was about to happen. You had been to red carpet events before, but never for something that you were the star of.

You hadn’t realized that you had frozen in place in front of the bed until you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. You looked up and over your shoulder and met Gwilym’s concerned gaze.

“Are you alright?” he asked, quietly. You nodded and gave him a small smile.

“Just a little nervous.”

His smile grew as he pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“It’s normal to be nervous for these things. I still get that way sometimes, but you’re going to do great.”

You leaned back to smile up at him, and he leaned down to capture your lips in his in a slow, sweet kiss. You never would have imagined that by the time this movie wrapped, you would have found someone who made you feel so supported and loved. Besides the movie itself, it was probably the best gift you had ever been blessed with.

When you pulled out of each other’s embrace, you grabbed your phone off the bed and the two of you made your way to the elevator, hand in hand. Ben was waiting in the lobby, and you grinned at how handsome he looked in his all black suit.

“Damn, Ben. You’re out to break some hearts tonight, aren’t you?” you teased, as you walked up and wrapped him in a hug. He chuckled as you fell back and grasped Gwilym’s hand again.

“Well now that the two of us aren’t together anymore, maybe I’ll finally get a chance.” He winked, and you just shook your head.

You were thankful that the relationship rumors between the two of you had been stifled. Your mother had finally stopped hounding you about who you were involved with, and no one was out to make you look like a homewrecker. It was made obvious, and without a hint of doubt, who your heart belonged to.

You glanced out the lobby doors and saw a white stretch limo pull up, and you nodded in that direction.

“I think our ride has arrived.”

Ben and Gwilym’s attention turned in that direction, and then the three of you made your way to the door. The entire ride was spent in excited conversation, and your heart rate increased with each passing minute. You were only about an hour away from seeing the finished product that you had been working so hard on.

“Can you believe this is happening? After everything we’ve been through, this is finally it,” you murmured, grabbing the attention of the blond sitting across from you. He had been staring out the window, and Gwilym was looking at something on his phone. Ben’s green eyes sparkled as his expression reflected the same excitement that you were feeling.

“It was well worth it. I mean, you got a new best friend and a new boyfriend out of the deal. Not too shabby.”

You rolled your eyes at his reference to being your best friend, but he wasn’t wrong. You hadn’t known each other very well when you started, and now you couldn’t imagine your life without him. Plus, he did introduce you to the love of your life, so you were pretty grateful. You reached across the space between you and grasped his hand tightly in yours.

“Thank you, Ben. For making this the easiest few months of my life. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

His smile grew as he squeezed your hand back. The sound of someone clearing their throat filled the space and you both glanced over at Gwilym who was looking between the two of you with mock hurt.

“And of course, thank you for introducing me to this wonderfully subtle man. I am forever grateful,” you teased as you leaned back and pressed a kiss to Gwil’s cheek. A smirk spread across his lips as his hand moved to your knee.

“That’s better,” he joked, causing you and Ben to laugh. Before you knew it, the limo was coming to a stop and you could hear the roar of people outside. You took a deep breath as Ben reached for the door handle, and he looked back at you.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

You looked between him and Gwilym one last time, and then nodded.

“Let’s do this.”

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