#Got caught in a thought spiral the other day :/ Wanted that to change! Most easily summarized with what she says | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

t-z-random · 2 years

Note

Hello! Could I request some good yandere father Sun/Moondrop, ok scenario: we have a shy, soft spoken and precious lil bean who likes to cling to the him, sadly given that this child is a regular he starts to notice that this child's being neglected and by dumped their parent due to laziness, so he's like "Oh? You don't want to parent, fine my baby now" now in dad mode all feels right in his world again until child come's in one day w/ an injury they won't explain. (Hope this wasn't to long ;w;)

New Consciousness ~ Yandere Sun & Moon x Child Reader [Platonic]

TW: Abuse/Neglect/Murder

As most yandere stories go, this is pretty dark. So proceed at your own risk

A/n: Well I got carried away. It's 10000 words long...Anyway, hope I stuck true to what you wanted! And that you don't mind the long read! Also don't apologize for the long requests! I love seeing detailed asks!

Today had felt the same as any other for who the staff had dubbed the daycare animatonics. Nothing ever really changed much for them, though they didn't mind. They quite preferred the daily rituals. Their programming guided them, their ingrained care not something they ever second-guessed. Not when it came to unruly children nor with the rude staff members. They had perfected the art of maintaining controlled chaos through their different roles in this small world they lived in. They had none of their own morals, no sense of self. Just a personality embedded in metal following protocols...

It never does stay that way does it?

It had been Sun who had first noticed you, after all his counterpart was usually asleep during playtime.

When he'd first caught your soft expression and hesitance steps, when he'd watched as you'd stared at the screaming kids, your eyes wide with curiosity yet apprehensive in throwing yourself into the chaos, something in him flickered. Like a strike of strange lightning he found somthing unknown light within him.

He had paused once he'd noticed you, his head slightly turned in perplexed curiosity, his sensors scanning what he could from afar

Status: Customer

Age: seven

Current emotional state: neutral/possible discomfort

Name: Y/n L/n

Connection: none

Previous visits: none

Enjoyed activities: N/A

Objective: form connection/find their interests

The colors flashed across his screen, quickly telling him what he was supposed to do. Normally he'd have moved by now. He would have sprung into action to entertain the new child under his care, perpetual glee found in each pre-written word.

But there was something very wrong, something he couldn't quite place. Maybe it was the look of your eyes, so unsure of this new place. Or perhaps it was your skittishness that showed with every new noise you heard. Something, he was sure it was something. He just didn't understand what yet.

So, his attention absolutely transfixed on you, he approached, his bouncing movements still easily found in each step, yet it seemed almost as if he toned it down as he approached.

"Hello new friend! Do you need help finding something to...do...?" He began with his pre-written dialogue though he strangely found himself slowing towards the end, as if unsure of his own words.

How many times has he said that now? It had to be over a hundred- no a thousand! Why did he always say that? It didn't seem like a right opener for you. No, you were...different from the other children that he'd seen, something about you wasn't meant to be treated the same.

Was he missing a line of code? Was there something he wasn't understanding? Were his sensors not telling him everything he was seeing? What was this-?!

His newfound ability of spirally thought was immediately stopped once you looked up at him. You had taken a step back, your arms pulled closer as you snapped your neck to meet the tall animatronics gaze. Your eyes filled with anxiety as he spoke to you, your defensive position showing distrust. You remained silent, though your actions spoke louder than any words ever could.

Suddenly a strike of discomfort hit Suns system. It gave him an overwhelming sense that something was wrong. It filled him with absolute dread, the likes of which he'd never fely before.

Y-You pulled away from him. Kids aren't supposed to pull away from him! He's not scary! He's nice! Nice! You just- it's your first time here! You probably just don't know how nice he is! Oh he can teach you, he can teach you! You aren't supposed to be scared of him!

"H-Hey it's okay! I'm not scary! I just wanna help you have fun! You don't have to be scared! We- We can do whatever you want!" He spoke in a noticeably desperate tone, his voice box hitching every now and again, a result of his racing thoughts and unexplained coding running through his system. That's what this had to be right? A strange line of protocols that had never been finished? Or perhaps they were and maybe he had never encountered someone like you.

His anxiety left however once your tense posture loosened, your fear no longer as prevalent as you stood. Your eyes instead held curiosity, the same he'd had once he'd first noticed you.

For a while the both of you just starred, unsure what to make of the other. Kids ran all around, high-pitched screaming ringing across the room, yet neither of you made a single movement.

That was until, out of pure curiosity, you stepped a little closer, an action that snapped the animatronic out of his trance enough for his head to follow you. When you stood close enough you then slowly rose your hands up to him, signifying that you wanted off the ground.

If his faceplate hadn't been permanently sealed into a wide smile he would have produced a real one for you. He felt almost ecstatic when you showed you were comfortable enough for him to touch you and he didn't hesitate to pull you into his arms, a sudden movement that sharply contrasted with his previous stillness. He squealed a little, his excitement showing once again

"Hello! Hello! My goodness, you're so tiny! Hello new tiny friend! We're gonna have so much fun together!" He enthusiastically repeated himself, your small frame held slightly away from him so that he could see you. You let out a small giggle at the animatronic, his joy incredibly contagious.

For the rest of the day the two of you had become inseparable. No matter how many times staff had tried to get him to play with the other kids he had always gravitated back towards you. He simply couldn't help it! Every small smile or laugh from you created an unknown but almost addicting feeling within himself. One he had never known before and, like a kid high on sugar, he only begged for more.

He'd felt happiness all his life, it was his programming after all. But never had he'd known what it was nor why others seemed to not be able to stay happy all the time.

Not until today.

He finally knew what it was not to be happy when you were away. It was a new sensation that he most definitely didn't like. It was a gnawing feeling, a sense of fear that struck through him. Every minute away wasn't a minute he enjoyed. You were just- just too small to be left alone! And nice! And quiet! You'd get hurt! O-Or someone would upset you! Or you'd get lost! No no no, you simply couldn't be left alone. He knew the negligence of the staff workers, he knew that at any moment something bad could happen to you. He needed to stay close, he needed to protect you.

So that's just what he did. Unfortunately, his behavior was marked as 'concerning' and 'in need of repairing'. Especially as he began to grow hostile toward the more persistent staff. Sun didn't understand how it had happened, or why, but at some point he had been shut off. He didn't know what he'd done to warrant the reaction. He was just taking care of a child after all! He couldn't comprehend why it had been wrong to withhold you from leaving, nor why hiding you away from everyone else would be considered 'concerning behavior'. After all, you seemed to enjoy it! You clung to him, you needed him. You didn't want to go home!

But the staff thought otherwise and had managed to power him down without him even noticing!

So here he sat in maintenance, his body unable to move and a new emotion entangling him.

Fear

"What happened? Why are we in maintenance?" Sun heard Moon's voice as the panic of where he was immediately overtook him

"Wh-Why am I here!? I was only doing what I was supposed to! I wasn't bad I wasn't-"

"Calm down Sunny, you're stressing your circuits" the blonde-haired man spoke as he stepped into the so-called 'protective cylinder'. Sun couldn't turn to see who it was, though he already knew him as his assigned maintenance worker.

"Listen to him Sun. Whatever it was, it can't be that bad. You didn't hurt someone did you?" Moon's voice spoke again though Sun continued to ignore him

"Damien! Boy am I glad to see you! You know me right? You made me! I don't do bad things- i-it's not in my programming-"

"I know" the man bluntly responded, his movements never ceasing as he pulled a chair next to the animatronic.

"You believe me? Good! Great! I knew you'd believe me! Can you let me out? I have to make sure my ki- the kids are okay! You understand-"

"I understand Sunny, but I still can't let you go. Look, I know you didn't mean to. It was probably a mistake on my part. Something in your code got mixed up, you got overly attached to one kid and ignored the others. I'm just going to fix it super quick then you should be good to head back to the daycare" the man explained, Sun's relief quickly left as he realized the man wasn't understanding him. He was just trying to calm him down! No no no! This isn't happening! He doesn't want to forget he doesn't-

"Sun? What's wrong? I know you can hear me! What's going on! Why are you thinking these thi-"

"NO! NO NO NO! I don't wanna! You- You- You meanie! You traitor. I don't- AAAAUUUUGGGG!" Sun's fervent disagreement was stopped short with a shock of searing pain, electricity running through his system. His futile pulling again his restraints stopped as all energy left him for a momentary period.

"Now Sun, why don't we just calm down. You never get this worked up over maintenance. Why don't we just take a moment?" The man calmly spoke to the bot but to Sun they were searing words. Ones laced with lies and abused trust. Sun felt defenseless, weak, hurt. He'd never had The Shock used on him before. He'd seen it happen to others but not once had Damien ever used it on him.

"Why...why did he...Sun why did he hurt us? We aren't...we aren't scary why was he scared of us-"

"Better?" Damien asked, his tone a bit sharper, almost as if daring him to act up again. Sun didn't respond to either of them, his body motionless. The only sign he was even still operating were the white lights of his eyes. Damien seemed to take this as a good sign.

"Good. Now let's get to work"

Betrayal

Unexplainable, deep, hurting betrayal was what Sun felt next. He just wanted to go back to you, to go back to what had made him happy! Everything else hurt, all the other people hurt him. But not you, not his sunflower.

"Your sunflower? Sun what are you saying-?...Sun...don't- Sun you can't y-your gonna get us hurt SUN-"

Sun didn't hear much of what had happened next, in fact most of his sensors had gone offline. All he remembered was red, he dripping of a crimson liquid and the blaring of a bright siren. He remembered the pain that was coursing through his body and the fact that it didn't hurt as bad as not being able to see you again.

It had been weeks since you were allowed back to this colorful space. It had been shut down for a while so you had been forced into the care of babysitter after babysitter. They never stayed long, something your parents always blamed you for. You never really understood why it had been your fault or exactly what you had done, but you had grown accustomed to keeping your mouth shut when it came to your parents' criticisms of you.

But none of that mattered now. Not when you were back at the only place you'd ever found true happiness. You were practically shaking with the anticipation of seeing Sun. You couldn't wait to play with him!

So, with no further instruction needed, you slid down the slide. You remembered the first time you'd gone down it and how it had been so terrifying. Especially once you came out the other side into a chaotic area of childlike dreams you'd never got to experience before. Now though you understood the line of excited kids and their eagerness to throw themselves into the tube.

The moment you landed in the ball pit you started moving to leave it. You were on a mission after all, one to see your one and only best friend! So, pulling yourself from the pit, your eyes immediately scanned around you, searching for the familiar figure. You scanned and scanned, your heart slowly dropping as you looked around.

Where was he?

You began to search, trying your best to avoid the children that seemed to almost not register your existence. You hesitantly threw yourself into the most terrifying places, the play structure along with the overcrowded ball pit, only to be unable to find your friend. Your hope slowly dwindled over your hour-long search until you found yourself in a far corner of the daycare at the bottom of a small castle, away from the chaos yet still overwhelmed by it. Tears began to prick at your eyes as you slowly realized your first and only ever best friend wasn't here. You slowly sunk to the ground behind the castle, too hidden in the world of screaming children for anyone to notice you.

"Hello little ones! I'm sure you guys have been missing Sun but he's still a little under the weather! But guess what? Moon is back in working order! So run around little one's because Moon comes out to play in five minutes!"

You heard an uproar of screams as kids went into hyperdrive, running around with a spike of energy now that they knew playtime would be over soon. You hadn't been around long enough last time to experience naptime, so this Moon character was foreign to you. You brushed it off though, too upset with the loss of your first best friend to care who this new character was.

It was after these five minutes that the lights went out, startling you slightly. Your head shot up from its spot tucked into your legs as you stared at the darkness that now consumed the area. Granted there were a few glow-in-the-dark stars here and there but for the most part it was pitch black darkness. You hugged yourself tighter, fear consuming you.

Why can't anything ever go right for you? You'd lived so long with disappointment and betrayal, of being left behind by those who were supposed to care about you. Why couldn't you have one person? Someone who would stay.

You felt entirely alone, isolated from a world that should have been inviting, pushed away by those meant to hold you close.

Moon had stepped out from his podium, jumping off of it and onto the nearby foam, avoiding the ball pit entirely. He was soon surrounded by children, all of them individually vying for his attention. He followed with his programming and greeted them all by name, their guest files opening themselves for him. The routine had become so easy now with his years of practice, he almost wasn't attached to himself aas he did so.

Some of the guest he recognizes as old guests, ones that had been here for a year or two. Others weren't very well known by him, despite the information scrolling across his screen that spoke the contrary.

"Hello, it's very nice to see all of you again. Have you all taken your candies?" He asked, the dialogue leaving him almost subconsciously. He watched as they either nodded or took their candies before deciding to move on.

"Good, now who would like a bedtime story?"

"Me!"

He watched as they all happily agreed and on with the prewritten code he went. Setting all of the napping spots for them as he recited a story from memory. Upon getting a spot the children practically threw themselves into the land of dreams. He set each one of them to bed, a routine all of them thankfully knew by now. He was lucky there were no newcomers t-...

One two three...

Missing child, opening child's guest profile. . .

Statues: Customer

Age: seven

Current emotional state: N/A

Name: Y/n L/n

Connection: none

Previous visits: one

Sleeping methods: unknown

Objective: find missing child

After having been given the objective he went right to work searching. None of the staff questioned him, knowing it was in his programming to patrol once the other children slept.

He searched around, crawling through the play structure, ball pit, slide, anything to find this lost child. He was just about to alert the staff when a sound was picked up on his sensors.

Scanning. . .

Crying

Quickly noticing the distressing sound he followed it until he found the source.

Seeing you for the first time caused him to freeze, his wiring going off the fritz. He stood for a moment, analyzing you further and noticing your clear signs of distress. It created a strange sensation in his coding, once that was similar to the feeling of pain. A sensation not fully unknown to him He stepped away after a moment, the overwelming feeling breaking through his usually perfectlly executed preformance.

'Sun? Are you there? I don't feel well' he tried to ask for his counterpart but received no answer in return. He felt this strange sensation only worsen as he grew unsettled by Sun's silence.

Sun always liked to be around even when he didn't have to be, so to hear true silence wasn't something Moon was used to.

He was truely alone...

Shaking the thought Moon knew he couldn't just sut around he'd ne caught and questioned and after Suns...outburst...he really couldn't afford any mistakes. Searching for the best options an object caught Moons eyes. A stray ball from the ballpit that made it's way over here. Picking up the object Moon slowly turned back to where you sat before gently rolling it towards you, hoping to keep from startling you.

You weren't entirely sure how long you'd stayed hidden in this corner, it could have been seconds, minutes, hours, you didn't care. You just kept yourself curled up in your little ball of misery. That was until something caught your attention.

Something hit the side of your shoe. Out of confusion you pulled your head up, your crying slowing a little as you assumed it was some sort of adult. What you instead found was a small yellow ball. Curious to where it came from, you slowly turned to the direction it likely rolled from, only to realize that the area held a hue of blue, no longer enveloped in darkness. Finding the source of the light led you to a set of soft blue eyes that glowed a bit brighter than a nightlight. There was a moment of silence as the two of you locked eyes before whoever this was spoke up.

"Hello...are you hurt?" A deep yet soothing voice asked. Enveloped in complete curiosity your crying reduced to sniffles as you slowly shook your head. You strained your eyes in hopes of seeing who this was, but they were too far away for you to tell.

Moon found that the painful sensation running through his wires only grew as he stared at you. Pulled by this phenomenon he'd never been able yo explain, he slowly took a few steps closer, his head turned slightly to the right as he stared.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, his mechanical clicks as he walked alerting you to what he was.

Another animatronic.

You remained silent as he approached and luckily showed no signs of fear with his presence. He soon stood in front of you, his form now slightly made out through shadows.

He greatly resembled your old friend...maybe he was just wearing a different outfit?

"M-Mr. Sun?" You asked, your voice still holding the slight hiccup of your tears.

And how soft that voice was. So pleasant to hear even in your post sobbing state. At least, that's what Moon thought as he slowly lowered himself to the ground, sitting just across from you.

"That's my brother. I'm Moon. What's...What's your name?" He spoke so calmly, his voice lulling you into a calm state. Even so, there was a hesitation in his voice, a slightly held-back tone that could be an attempt to convey many different emotions. Which one it was exactly was hard to pin. You'd be remissed to ask him yourself either because even he wasn't sure what exactly was wrong. And the question he chose to ask was new as well. He already knew your name, the guest profile showed that clearly. Yet unlike with the others, it just didn't feel right to know it yet. He even saw a small flash of your profile show up on his sensors when he'd ask the question yet he still chose to actively ignore it.

You pulled away from your balled-up state, instead sitting with calmed posture as you analyzed this new bot.

He didn't seem scary, in fact he gave you an odd sense of safety, almost the same way Sun had. This new animatronic felt almost familiar. Like a place you've already explored and know like the back of your hand.

"Y/n..." You answered, mimicking his tilted head with your own. He quickly noticed that fact and slowly started to move his head back as you copied him. You played along in this little game until it took your full attention, your sorrow from moments ago forgotten as you giggled at the silliness of it.

And what a delightful giggle that was. And on such a cute little face. He would have held a soft smile if his face wasn't held in a permanently wide one.

Seeing that you had calmed down he held his arms open slightly, gesturing for you to come to him.

"It's past your bedtime" he commented, waiting for your response. You hesitated ever so slightly but in the end felt safe enough to go to him. He gently pulled you into his arms before standing again, your body tucked towards him. He carried you back to where the other kids were, his movements silent as he made his way past the sleeping children. He grabbed one of the softest blankets he could find along with the fluffiest pillow and made a spot for you single-handedly. He was about to set you into the spot when he felt you cling tighter.

"Don't you want to lay down? You look tired" He asked, confusion ringing in his tone. You shook your head, instead continuing to keep your grip on him. Moon thought for a moment before taking the blanket and pillow off the floor and laying down with you still in his arms. He masterfully moved you around until you were wrapped in a blanket yet still in his grasp along with laying a pillow where your head would be.

"Better?" He asked to which you responded with a nod, snuggling into the warm blanket. Once he was sure you were comfortable he began humming a soft melody, hoping to further lull you to sleep. After all of your crying, it didn't take long for you to pass out, your slowed breathing being an evident sign of that.

It was the rest of the time that Moon and you stayed like this. He refused to leave you but, perhaps a bit more cunning than Sun, he hid it well. With thought-out excuses and monotoned relaying of protocols he fooled the staff, allowing them to believe he was as normal as ever. All seemed well and at peace in the room of sleeping children...

That was until it was time for them to leave...

One by one he watched as parents either came to pick up their sleeping children or the children were woken up by staff and let out of the room. With each child that left he subconsciously held tighter to you, knowing what was soon to come next. Eventually, after being over half an hour late, the inevitable happened.

You had to go...

Moon squeezed you slightly, not wanting to ever see you leave. He'd never felt more comfortable with a child in his life! A-And you were sound asleep and so calm and-

Moon stopped his thoughts, soon remembering he had no room to draw suspicion to himself. Sun was already shut down for who knows how long, if Moon had an incident they'd surely be dismantled! Then he'd never see you again!

So, rather begrudgingly, he woke you up.

"Little lamb, it's time to go" he whispered, his soft sound calmly pulling you from your sleep. He stood, making his way to the exit of the daycare with a purposefully slow step. Once you realized what was happening you let out a whine, gripping onto his clothing again.

"I know, I don't want you to leave either, but you can't stay here all night. Your parents would worry about you" he tried to explain, but that didn't stop your protest. You started shaking your head as you attempted to further dig yourself into his grasp. He felt so entirely confused by why exactly letting you go hurt so much, but he couldn't help but feel biting dread with each attempted made to get you to leave. However, he didn't want to start a scene, so he made a deal with you.

"Hmm...if you want I can give you a plushy to take with you?" He proposed the idea, relief flowing through him when you paused your groggy whining. You slowly looked up to him, a cautious stare hidden in your eyes. Your ceased movements allowed him to carefully place you down before hopping away and returning moments later with a plush in hand. He handed it to you and you slowly took it, your movements almost unsure as you did so.

"There. Now are you ready to go home?" He asked, his hand soon held on your back, guiding you to the exit. You stared between him and the plush as you realized they looked very familiar to one another. You gave no other response though, even as you began to take steps out of the daycare. Your gaze didn't pull away from him when the staff shut the door behind you, nor when your father began to pull you away.

You didn't want to leave...

Days passed as most days did for you. Long, noisy and numb. The daycare was the color in your monotonous world and even then it didn't hold the same sense of wonder without Sun around. The only comfort you ever found was in the arms of Moon. Calm yet not cold, he held such a reassuring presence. Even though you were only a child, and thus should despise the concept of sleep, you found yourself anticipating bedtime just because of him.

But while Moon had felt like the safety of arms to fall back onto, Sun had felt like a guiding hand to adventure. Sun had felt so comfortable in such a completely different way. Granted you had only met him once but in that time he'd given you more attention than you think you've received in your life. He was happy with you around, he had wanted you around. He was your first play buddy, your first friend! You could only wonder where he was and when he'd be back. Both had comforted you in their own separate ways, both made you feel safe in a life of teetering on a tightrope.

How you wished for either of them now...

You once again sat in the little corner you had made so you could work on your art pieces in peace. Unfortunately though it was a little harder to focus today. Your mind traveled back to this morning, a terrifying memory coming to mind.

"I want this gone by tonight. This garbage is blocking up the walkway" a familiarly gruff voice spoke, his intense words burning into you as he implied your newest creation, a tower made out of cans you'd found around the house, was meant for the trash mill.

You weren't sure why today of all days it had gotten to you. Maybe it was his particular tone this morning, maybe it was the fact that this was the first time you'd seen him in nearly two months, or perhaps you felt that after so long of remaining unharmed by him that he wasn't still capable of it. Either way, you made the mistake of speaking up with not only an attitude but with anger.

"It's not trash! It's my art!" You turned and yelled, passion for your creation held in your eyes. As you saw the fury build in his face you quickly realized the severity of your words, your drive disappearing as soon as it came. But you didn't shrink away quick enough and before you could understand what had happened you felt a shock of pain to your face before falling onto the floor. You lost your breath, the air knocked out of you as you fell.

"Don't you dare raise your voice to me again! It's a pile of garbage and it's going in the fucking trash!" You heard his voice intensity but you never opened your eyes, even as you heard the crash that signified the loss of your hard work. He yelled for a few more seconds before releasing the time and leaving out the front door in a huff.

Even once he left you never moved, your body frozen in pain and fear as rivers of tears fell from your face. It was only a few minutes before your mother came, though your distressed state seemed to mean very little to her as she practically dragged you to the car, the previous situation going unspoken.

Your hand slowly reached to your face, a stinging sensation growing behind the large band-aid your mother had used to cover the forming bruise.

As the memory played in your mind it only furthered your hesitance to create anything, feeling as if it would just be ruined anyway. You opted instead to sit by your barely started creations, staring off into space as the event repeated like a looped video through your mind. Through that cloud of morning events your mind seemed preoccupied with, there was only one other thing your thoughts would wander to.

You wished Sun or Moon were here...

"I...I'm nervous" Sun confessed, his body fidgeting as he paced around the dim room.

'It's your first day back I get that. But-"

"No no you don't understand! I'm not fixed! They didn't fix me! What's wrong with me isn't just a bug i-its...it's real it's...I don't know what it is, I just don't want to lose it..." Sun admitted, his head now in his hands, his thoughts of you running through a shared mind. There was silence for a moment, though with the ticking time it didn't last long.

'Sun I...I might not fully know what's going on, but I do know that whatever happened last time can't happen again. I couldn't talk to you for near over a week-!...' Moon's voice rose before stopping at the realization of his volume. It silenced Sun as he'd never heard him go above a whisper before. In fact he was almost sure it was against his programming! It took only a few seconds for Sun to draw conclusions.

"It's not just me is it..." He asked, another silence following.

Sun would get no answer as screen popping onto his sensors reminded him it was playtime.

'...we should go, they might bring us back to parts and service if we don't get to work" Moon reminded Sun, an action that didn't help Sun's strange feeling. Yet he walked anyway, making his way towards the podium.

It was times like these that they were thankful for their permanent smile.

Jumping down, Sun's programming kicked into gear, his joyful and exaggerated gestures more so subconscious than any genuine display of happiness. Even as he began to play with the kids his mind wandered toward you, to where you might be. He was close to breaking from his entertainment of the other children to go searching for you when Moon's voice rang in his head.

'We have to be careful Sun. They're watching us' Moon warned, causing Sun to discreetly look around, hiding it under the guise of searching for more children to entertain. In that quick glance though he had noticed many maintenance workers, and thus realized the extent of what this day was.

"This is a test..." He muttered before quickly making his way over to a child in the drawing corner, his limbs and voicebox almost seeming detached from himself as he moved around to get more art supplies.

"Why are you still awake anyway?" He mumbled to himself once he was far enough away from anyone who'd notice.

'to keep you on task. Seeing them is important, but so is pretending you're fixed. You-'

"Pretending We're fixed..." He once again mumbled, his task in the art corner complete and his company being needed elsewhere.

'What?'

"I'm not stupid Moon. You're broken too" he let out a frustrated grumble before making it to a group of children near the slide, greeting them with familiar vigor, his act of excitement pulled off expertly.

Moon remained silent, no longer giving Sun an answer. However, Sun still felt h there. His presence alone was enough to keep Sun in check for a while. But as minutes crept to an hour Sun felt deep concern bubbling within him, having not found you yet. He knew you were here today, your guest profile said as much, but you were nowhere in sight.

"Where-"

'Near the castle, that's where I always find them...' Moon's voice quickly interjected. Sun would have asked why he hadn't told him sooner if it weren't for the fact that Moon had cut off his words just before a staff member walked past. Sun acted natural, his demeanor remaining happy as they passed. It was only after they did so that Sun began to make his way towards that area, stopping to deal with the other children on the way but with a somewhat impatient demeanor now, not that it was much different than his programmed behavior. He made his way towards the quiet corner, the place being unused by the children as it wasn't filled with as many activities and the main play area held the highest ground. It was a rather overlooked area, so it wasn't surprising that it mostly remained vacant. Sun wasted no time as he held onto his urgent need to find you.

"Hello! Is anyone over here!" He called as he tried to remain as normal looking as possible. He had to follow along with his normal procedures, even if all he'd rather be joyously jumping around to find you.

You were broken from your long trance of thought by the familiar voice, surprised that you had heard it. You hesitated a moment, unsure if maybe you'd imagined it. Once you listened closely though you were able to notice the slight jingle of his wrist-tied bells, immideately telling you that you hadn't just been imagining the sound.

Slowly you peaked out from behind the castle, your eyes scanning a moment before locking onto the all too easily recognizable face.

Upon seeing you Sun felt a wave of excitement flow through him. All worries and anxieties floating away. All of the previous nights of near torture meant nothing, not when he was able to see you.

'...Sun-'

"SUNFLOWER!" he yelled, a burst of energy seen in his inability to remain still. You jumped slightly at the yell, though your mild startle was wiped away with a smile as you recognized the nickname.

"Mr. Sun!" You yelled back with a small but absolutely ecstatic voice. It was only seconds later that Sun bounded up to you, picking you up off the ground and holding you highly in the air.

"It's been so long! Oh I've missed you! We have so much to do and-..." Sun's excited rant paused, his sensors finally fully scanning your face and in doing so recognizing the large band-aid on your right cheek. His excitement immediately vanished and was instead filled with worry as he quickly set you down, lowering himself to your height on the ground.

"Oh no! What happened?!" He asked with extreme worry in his voice. Before you could even respond he had a grip on you, his hands moving you to search for other visible injuries.

Your heart immediately sank with the question. The last time a babysitter had asked that question and you had answered honestly you had gotten in a huge amount of trouble. You were locked in your room for weeks! Oh no oh no, what do you tell him?! What are you supposed to say?!

"I-I'm fine..." You answered, causing Sun to freeze his movements, instead looking directly at you again. There was a pause before he spoke again.

"That's not what I asked Sunflower...what happened?" He asked again, your stomach twisting into knots as you tried to find an answer. You toiled over the question, your hesitation only further increasing Sun's worry.

"Sunflower? Please tell me. I won't get mad, I just want to know" he tried to further reassure you, but it didn't seem to convince you much as your tongue remained tied.

'Somethings wrong...Sun something is very very wrong...' Moon echoed through his head, further pushing at Sun's anxieties. Sun's grip became a bit tighter the longer the response took and after a certain point you felt that you needed to give some form of an answer.

"...It's nothing I just-...I-...fell..." You struggled out a response, the burning tongue that came with lying weighing heavily in your mouth. You've done it all your life, but it had usually only come at the expense of yourself. You'd never lied when the consequences had affected someone else before. You'd never been close enough to anyone for that to be a factor before.

'...they're lying...' Moon echoed once again, his words swaying Sun's option on your words.

Sun had never really been great at understanding people's motives. He wasn't really programmed to and even with his recent escape from the coding he'd been having a hard time understanding lies.

Moon, on the other hand, dealt with lying children all the time. He knew when a kid was lying about a bad dream or faking being asleep. And when it translated to staff he had always been the more observant of the two, considering he usually dealt with the meaner of the staff that came for the afternoon shift. So, staring at your avoidant eyes and your fidgeting hands, Moon saw what was truly going through your head, even when you tried to hide it.

"You don't trust me?" Sun asked, confused and a bit hurt that you'd lied to him. Your eyes shot up to look at his, tears swelling in your eyes immediately. Moon immediately panicked, not having expected his counterpart to have said something so harsh.

'Sun that's not- that's not how you deal with that!' He uncharacteristically raised his whispered voice once again, an action Sun was still unfamiliar with. This, mixed with your growing tears, caused immediate guilt to grow within him. Before he could apologize you were already scrambling to respond

"N-No! I trust you! I-I'm not- I- um...I'm sorry..." Your panicked response switched to a softer tone with your apology, guilt written in your features. You had never wanted him to feel like that, you just didn't want to get in trouble.

"Oh no no, don't- don't cry! I didn't mean to make you cry!" Sun let out a panicked response, his hands gently holding the sides of your face as he wiped away the tears, the hand laying over your bandage hovering just enough to not hurt it.

"It's okay, you...you don't have to tell me. I just want to know you're okay, and I can't do that if you think I can't be trusted! We're best friends, right? So you don't have to be afraid to tell me anything! I promise I'd never ever get mad at you." Sun spilled out his thoughts about you, his words laced with genuine care you hadn't heard from anyone before. It was shocking to hear it so blatantly said, so sincere in its delivery. You felt seen under his glowing eyes, cared for by his comforting hands.

You were simply a child after all. One deemed as more of a chore to your supposed caregivers than any actual person. So you grew attached rather quickly. Frankly if he and Moon had just been following normal protocol you would have grown a natural attachment to them, just because they would have treated you with even just a basic form of kindness. But to be looked at, to be fully acknowledged, it felt so entirely overwhelming. You felt tears fall down your face at even just the chance that he might have meant even a single word he said.

"R-Really?" You asked. Your tears now coming in waves, further throwing Sun into a panic.

'Calm down. Panicking will only make it worse. Try giving them a hug- a gentle one...they're scared...' Moon tried to instruct Sun. Moon knew the first glimpses of genuine care and emotion were harder to deal with, and panic was a normal response, but he couldn't have Sun scaring you away either. Not when you were so vulnerable.

Thankfully Sun listened, slowly pulling you into a hug, letting you cry into his chest.

"Really..." He murmured, his voice only barely audible to you.

Holding you like this hurt. To let you cry just felt so wrong. You should be happy! Always happy! But Moon countered this thought process, telling him that sometimes happiness isn't the goal. Sometimes kids cry, and sometimes comfort is all they want. So even though it went against every circuit in his system Sun never spoke or moved. He simply let you cry as he held you, hoping that Moon was right.

Weeks passed and each day was a rollercoaster of restraint. Sun had to find a balance of acting and genuine care. He had to walk the line between care and protocol lest he get him and Moon scrapped. What was even stranger was that Moon didn't disappear as much. He'd been around more than ever, helping to calm him down and instruct him when he got a bit too carried away. It brought him a sense of comfort in a way, knowing he wasn't alone. Not to mention that without him Sun would have been scrapped already with how many times he'd been close to trying to keep you. Especially as he began to notice a few strange things.

They had started off small enough. A general skittishness and overall weary nature around them and the adults. They hadn't found it too much of a problem as they made sure to never sneak up on you and instead give you extended notice with an extra jingle of their bells. Hell, if it was just that they wouldn't have thought much about it...

But then the nightmares started...

You would wake up crying, sometimes sobbing. You never spoke about the dreams, in fact you actively avoided it. No matter how hard they tried you never wanted to talk about them.

It was only when those dreams had started did they notice you began coming with more injuries you also didn't talk about. They weren't covering you per se, by every few days there'd be a new bandage on your face, or an old bruise on your shoulder. They began to fear touching you in case they would accidentally touch a wound of some kind.

And you didn't want to do art as much and even when you did you didn't let anyone around it, even them. You'd hide it or somehow keep it away. A fact that greatly upset them considering you used to show them everything you made.

However, out of all of these factors, there was one that was the breaking point.

Today you had been silent and distant. You didn't seem to listen to Sun, or want to play anything. You looked tired, not to mention that you were covered in bandages. Sun didn't have any clue how to deal with this and his attempts to get you to smile all failed. It nearly shattered him to see you like this and to be so unable to do anything. At one point Sun walked away to talk to Moon, hoping to figure out what he was doing wrong.

"I-I don't know what's wrong! It's like they're broken! What am I supposed to do!? Oh no oh no I hope they aren't mad at me-"

'Calm down, you're not the problem. They came in like this, so something bad must have happened outside. Look, why don't you give them some time. I'll talk to them when it's naptime" Moon tried to reason, hoping to calm Sun down. Unfortunately, this had the opposite effect.

"What?! But- But I can't just leave them like that! I have to fix them now! They shouldn't be sad they-"

'You can't just fix people Sun! That's not how this works! You should know that better than most people!' Moon raised his voice, stopping Sun immediately.

Moon had never spoken so harshly before nor had his words ever cut so deeply, leaving Sun confused and rather hurt. That was until Moon's thoughts became easier to hear, his true reasoning revealing itself.

'Someone's hurting them- I-I should have noticed that sooner. I'm such a terrible caretaker- the bruises- the skittishness- I should have known I should have known' Moon's thoughts ran frantic, the emotion behind them more potent than Sun had ever heard from Moon before. As Sun processed those thoughts it slowly dawned on him what was happening.

"Someone...Someone's hurting them...?" He quietly muttered the sentence as more of a statement than a question. With it came an old and scarily familiar sensation. His hands tightened, the only word he could use to describe the emotion being crimson red.

hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate

"Sun I know-...I know it's bad...but I need you to listen. We don't know who, we don't know why, we don't know when. You're angry, and that's okay. But I need you to trust me. Don't act on it. If you do, we'll get decommissioned and they'll go back to whoever hurt them. Please, I'm begging you, let me handle this.' Moon spoke with a serious and direct voice, only barely cutting through the sheet of red that covered Sun's vision. But slowly, and just barely, Sun calmed. His fists loosening and his burning circuits no longer heating up. And once he was able to do that he soon recognized the violent thoughts that were running through his mind. Thoughts that, cooled from his extreme rage, he was incredibly disturbed by.

"Fine..." He finally agreed, even if every part of his being burned with pain whenever he caught a glimpse of you.

The day went on, though Sun became fully detached from himself, his programming running on its own as he sat boiling behind his perpetually permanent smile. He had left you at the top of the castle, somewhere quiet for you to calm down.

Eventually nap time came and the lights went out. Moon wasted no time putting the others to sleep, making sure each one of them was fully in the land of dreams so that he wouldn't be interrupted when talking to you. After he was sure they were, he immediately left for the castle, worry and guilt fully embracing him as he made his way.

When he made it to the castle he jumped up, landing silently in front of you. You didn't look at him, seeming more spaced out than in reality at this point. You looked exhausted, hurt and broken. A combination that crushed him the longer he looked, the thought that this was his fault for not realizing sooner running through his mind.

Slowly he took a seat in front of you, his actions familar to the day he'd first met you. His eyes analyzed each bandaid and deep bruise that covered your body, now realizing the resemblance of hands in some them.

"Hello little lamb..." He quietly greeted. It seemed to gain some of your attention as you looked towards him, but your eyes felt hollow even as they stared.

"I saw Sun and you earlier...You didn't want to play?" He spoke softly, easing himself into the soon to be unbearable conversation. Even now he felt a part of himself being torn into shreds of guilt just looking at you.

You gave no response, instead turning your eyes away as if to ignore the question behind his words.

Unable to bear this anymore, his hand landed on your shoulders, only barely touching them in fear of touching unseen injuries.

"H-Has someone been-been h-hurting you little lamb?" Moon managed to choke out, his voice box slightly crackling and glitching. Yet despite the robotic sounds, the voice itself no longer held its robotic quality. It sounded human, real, no longer like an animatronic. Your head snapped to him with the accusation, your eyes widening as if surprised he had noticed. Your eyes immediately flooded with tears that you desperately tried to hide.

You couldn't tell him, no no you'd lose them both. Your parents would take you away, they'd put you somewhere else! You couldn't leave! These two were all you had now! You didn't want to leave them!

"N-No" you let out in a crackling and unconvincing voice, soon breaking into a sob, the emotions that you had detached yourself from now coming to you in waves of anguish. You looked him in the eyes, your breakdown soon approaching.

You couldn't take it anymore. The silence of your pain was unbearable. You didn't want to lie, to live with this on your own. So, slowly falling into full sobs, you let out the truth.

"Yeah" you strangled out with a nod, his arms immediately opening for you to fall into. His hands gently rubbed your back, trying to bring you some semblance of comfort.

"It's okay little lamb, no-no one's going to hurt you anymore. Not with us around. You're safe here. Y-You're-you're safe" Moon’s voicebox crackled again though this time he knew the reason. He could feel Sun's hatred burn again, his outrage barely contained behind Moon's mind.

"Shhh...It's- It's okay...c-c-calm down" Moon continued to comfort you, though the words weren't only meant for you, something Sun picked up quickly.

'Okay? Okay!?! They hurt them! My sweet little sunflower! Why would someone do that!?!? They- They broke them they-' Moon pulled you out of the hug, his hands hovering slightly over your face, the contact with your bruises minimal enough that it didn't hurt. You looked through blurry vision and hiccups.

"You're not broken...just hurt-hurt...and we're going to make sure that you aren't either of those things ever-ever again. Not again. Not ever. Okay little lamb? We're going to pro-protect you, no matter what" Moon spoke just as genuinely as Sun had weeks prior but with an even more serious tone. You nodded, fully trusting the bot in front of you. After all, you had never heard those words before. You'd never had anyone willing to make those promises. And it was in those promises you'd found solace.

"Oh my sweet little lamb..." Moon whispered mostly to himself before he gently grabbed you, slowly pulling you into his lap like he had so many nights before. It was in the light squeeze of his arms that you found comfort, calm. You heard a soft melody begin to play, slowly soothing you from your sobs. As they died down, Moon instructed you to take deep breaths to further calm yourself. It was a slow process, one that was almost painful for Moon to sit through, but you eventually quieted down, tucking yourself further into the comfort of his embrace.

'...whoever did this needs to pay. There- there has to be a punishment for this! They hurt them, they hurt my little sunflower they-"

"Shhh" was all Moon could say, silence being something so greatly needed. Moon had to think, to make a plan for how to help you. And he couldn't do that when his mind held the voice of a rightfully furious but impulsive counterpart. Thankfully Sun listened this time, allowing Moon a moment to think. That didn't last long though as your small voice spoke.

"I don't want to go back..." You whispered with a quavering voice, your grip tightening even more, as if the moment you let go you'd be alone again.

"...home?" Moon asked the question, only for your nodded answer to further upset him.

"Your parents are the ones who hurt you?" He carefully asked, not wanting to upset you now that you had calmed down a little. When he received another nod he felt a spike of burning hatred, one that no longer came from just his counterpart. It had been a long time since he'd felt anger, though the intensity was potent enough to heat his wiring.

'Their parents?!?! How could someone do that to their own child?!?!? W-Why?! Moon I don't understand! Parent- Parents are supposed to protect!!! Why why WHY! bad! So so bad! Why would they do that to my little sunflower Moon-'

"I'm tired..." Your voice spoke again, your shaking body now noticeable as you rather poorly held back tears. Moon once rubbed your back in an attempt to keep you calm.

"Then sleep...you'll be safe. I won't let them take you. I promise" he swore to his word and, too exhausted to continue this fight against your drooping eyes along with trusting that he was telling the truth, you finally decided to let yourself fall into the land of dreams. Sleep took you over in moments, your breathing slowinh and your body limp. Moon was the finally allowed a few seconds of silence to fully understand what had just happened, and what he had just promised. It was after those few seconds that Sun almost hesitantly echoed in his head.

"We're not letting them go back with their parents are we? You weren't lying right?" Sun asked with almost a bit of worry the Moon might not agree. Gaining a tighter grasp on you Moon soon let his thoughts be heard.

"No...I wouldn't lie to them..." Moon spoke through what could best be described as gritted teeth, his words intense but quiet. There was yet another pause before Sun once again broke that silence.

'Well then what are we going to do? They won't just let us keep them- I tried that! A-And their parents will just come looking! What are we-'

"Sh" Moon hushed his counterpart with a slightly harsh sound. Once Sun quieted, Moon spoke.

"We're going to give those nightmares what they deserve..." Moon started, his head turning to look at you, his unexplainable care overtaking the last bits of his rationality.

"A perminate bedtime"

-x-

Bonus!

(I wasn't going to add this because it kind of messed with the flow of the story a little bit, but it turned out so good that I didn't want to scap it. So y'all get some extra Sun/Moon angst!)

Sun knew Moon could hear his thoughts, but Moon would never answer anything unless asked. Something that was both a blessing and a curse. Especially when there was one question he felt he almost shouldn't ask, yet desperately wanted to know. It was only on a late night after a particularly stressful day that Sun had found the courage.

"Moon how...how long have you felt like this...alive I mean. You seem to know a lot about pretending" he finally questioned as he sat on the podium outside his room, looking down at the empty daycare. There was a long silence, one Sun had been expecting. What he hadn't expected was an answer.

"A long time..." Moon spoke with a softer tone than usual, the hidden meaning behind it harder for Sun to decipher.

Moon's thoughts had always been harder for Sun to hear. Maybe he was just better at hiding them, maybe Moon just preferred not to let him hear, but at this moment Sun could hear them. He could hear the memories, the loneliness. He could hear his act, his performance that even Suns protocol couldn't detect as fake. How he had so masterfully hid the fact that he was alive, that he could feel and hurt and understand things Sun never could.

The fear...so much...so much fear. Each step cautious, each movement thought over. He had never lived yet he was alive. He had cared and hurt, but he had never shown those feelings, had never truly been able to feel them.

There was one memory though, one that had been so loud it couldn't have been ignored.

'I don't- I've never dealt with this before. It's so quiet in here, where are you? Can't you hear me? Why couldn't you just play along?! Why couldn't you listen! You hurt someone you- you could've gotten us thrown away! Where are you?! Why did you let them take you away! You were finally alive!...it's so quiet...' Sun listened to the memory, soon understanding it had been the week he was out of commission. It sent a sinking feeling through him, a realization of what Moon had been hiding for so long. Sun felt himself almost unable to sit still as a biting feeling of guilt flowed through him.

Sun didn't know how respond. How do you comfort someone who had been fully isolated because of you? How do you understand the fear of what it was to be alone for so long and have your only semblance of companionship ripped from your hands? To apologize for unknowingly causing the suffering of someone who you never wanted to hurt?

"I'm...sorry...." Sun let out the paused words, the sounds harder to say than anything he'd said before. Moon was silent, but yet that silence almost felt freeing. As if that was the only thing that needed to be said. Despite the words chosen, Suns words weren't an apology. No they were something much more than that.

They were recognition

A realization of Suns sentience along with his own. Those words meant freedom, they meant the start of a better life. One where Moon wouldn't be forced to live in secrecy and silence, to play a role he never asked to be in.

That was all Moon had really wanted

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writing-in-a-chipotle · 3 years

Text

Unbearably Mortal (Part 2)

(Alcina Dimitrescu x gender neutral reader)

Part 1

Words: ~2.5 K

Summary: In which a lot of things happen and none of them are good.

A/N: Hey, y’all! Back at it again with another chapter! Hope you enjoy!

“Nope nope nope nope… no way in hell…” You shook your head violently, unable to process what Mary had said. “This is… this is all some sort of elaborate prank, right? You’re messing with me. Yeah.” You swallowed. Your saliva felt like acid.

Mary grimaced. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t a game. This is very much reality.”

“So… what are they then?” You began pacing the floor, anxiety clinging to the pit of your stomach. “You expect me to believe that they’re some sort of weird, blood-sucking vampires?? You must be out of your mind… they don’t exist! They can’t be real!”

Mary stood up and walked over to you, gently placing her hands on your shoulders. With her blocking your path, you were forced to stop pacing and look at her.

“Listen,” She began, eyes gleaming with fear “I have no need to lie to you. Believe whatever you want to believe, for the only thing on the line right now is your head. Jane and I risked our lives to save you. If we were caught, all of us would have died. So, are you going to freak out and get yourself killed, or are you gonna listen to me?”

You were stunned into silence. Mary was being deathly serious. You nodded shakily.

“Good.” Mary breathed a sigh of relief. “If you had a mental breakdown and they heard…” She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to either; the implication was horrifying enough as it was.

“Thank you, by the way,” you sighed, sitting back down on the bed, “you really didn’t have to save me.”

“Honestly, I’m still scared out of my mind,” she admitted breathily, “but I’m glad you’re better now.”

“Thanks.”

She hummed, then pursed her lips. Her frown deepened even more. “Well… now what do we do? The Dimitrescu family is notorious for slaughtering any trespassers they find.”

Your eyes widened and your stomach dropped. “Oh no… oh no, no, no…”

You were stuck. You were stuck in a terrifying castle with horrifying, blood-sucking monsters who would gladly turn you into a mangled corpse on their living room floor. You had no way to call for help, and your parents probably didn’t even know what was happening…

Your phone.

You patted your pockets and fished through them. Let’s see: some dirt, a crumpled flight itinerary, your house keys… aha!

“...what’s in the box?” Mary asked, “I don't think I’ve seen anything like it before.”

You blinked. Box? “Oh, this? It’s my phone.” You rotated it slowly in your fingers so she could easily see all its sides. “It’s a bit larger and blockier than your average iPhone because it’s designed to connect directly to the satellite, making it easy to call anyone from anywhere in the world. It cost me a lot of money, but since I was planning on traveling the world after I graduated, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to have it a few years early.”

Mary gave you a completely confused stare. “What’s an… iPhone? Or a sad-del-light? Did you make those up?”

You frowned, your eyebrow twitching in confusion. “Uh… no? I wouldn’t make anything like this up. You… you truly don’t know what modern technology is like?”

She shook her head. “I’ve… never been outside the village. I have no idea what the rest of the world is like.”

“And you don’t have a phone? Internet? Anything??”

“I’m afraid not,” She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, “the Lords don’t allow anyone to leave the village or write letters to the outside world.”

A chill shot up your spine. “That’s… terrifying…”

Mary nodded, then tilted her head, thinking. She pursed her lips and motioned with her finger for you to come closer. You lean your ear to her.

“What is it?” You whisper.

“There are rumors of a girl who escaped the Lord’s wrath,” she began, “apparently, she managed to leave the village unharmed. There was an old hag who used to moan about how her daughter left her for a new life. She sounded half mad, so no one bothered listening to her.”

Your grandmother. She was talking about your grandmother.

And your mom.

This meant that… your mom knew about these crazy monsters? That she let you come here, to a place where you would most likely die? Alone??

Nothing made sense anymore.

You realized you had zoned out of Mary’s story. You shook your head, bringing your attention back to the present.

“Is that a good idea?”

“Uh, sorry, what?” You blinked. Mary was staring at you like you were an idiot. (Which you were, but that’s not the point.)

“I said,” she repeated, “you need to blend in until we can figure out how to escape.”

“That’s… that’s a pretty good idea. And wait….” you repeated her words in your mind. “We? You want to come too?”

“Goddess, it’s like you’re dense or something.” Mary muttered under her breath. “Of course I want to leave! Are you out of your mi-“

“I get it, I get it,” you huffed, interrupting her, “What do we do now?”

“Now,” she folded her arms, “we need to get you a disguise.” She walked over to a tiny dresser in the far corner and pulled out a neatly-folded maid’s uniform. “I hope you’re my size.”

————————

Turns out you weren’t Mary’s size.

You couldn’t help it; your new friend was practically a walking stick. Your shoulders were too broad, your legs too long; but with Mary’s excellent sewing skills, you were able to make it work… sort of.

“Damn, this uniform is itchy,” you complained, scratching at the neckline.

“You’ll grow used to it after a while,” Mary replied. “Now we need to get to work or-“

“We’ll be made into wine. Got it.” You straightened out your sleeves.

She nodded. “Just follow my lead.”

The two of you walked quickly and quietly out of the servant’s quarters. Your heart was racing. Every time you turned a corner, you half expected a bloodied monster to jump the both of you and tear out your arteries.

You rounded another bend and nearly walked into Mary. She had stopped suddenly and immediately fled to the side of the hallway, bowing deeply at the corridor. You quickly followed her lead.

The moment you bowed your head, a steady buzzing filled your ears.

Swarms of flies flitted through your vision as they flew down the hall, buzzing excitedly. Maliciously. You don’t know how they managed to convey such emotions, but they seemed…. off.

And then, they changed.

The insects spiraled and spun into a large, buzzing mass, sewing themselves into a completely different form; one with a deep black cloak, ghoulishly pale hands, wild blonde hair…

And blood-stained teeth.

Mary curtsied deeply and you were quick to follow suit. “Good evening, Lady Bela,” she said softly, refusing to look up, “how may we be of service?”

Bela gave a bored wave of her hand. “We’re a bit... short-staffed in the kitchens at the moment,” she drawled, “Mother doesn’t want dinner to be served a second too late. She-” Her eyes fell on you and she stopped dead in her tracks. “You smell familiar, human…” she growled.

Oh no, you were dead, you were dead, you were dead. Cold sweat fell from your neck, and your heart raced. Bela stepped closer to you, brows furrowed and hungry eyes glinting.

“They’re new, Lady Bela,” Maria said quickly.

She raised an immaculate brow. “New, you say?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“... I see.”

It was only a moment before she leaned away, but to you, it felt like hours. The Dimitrescu was a terrifyingly deadly whirlwind, one that seemed to stare directly into your soul… maybe even smell your fear. Bela’s lips twitched, giving you a glimpse of sharp fangs.

“Well then, newcomer,” she hissed, amusement dripping in her voice, “if you’re so eager to serve us, I want you to pour the wine.”

Your heart raced in panic, your hands shaking. Pouring the wine meant seeing these monsters at their most bloodthirsty. It meant you would get caught.

I won’t survive, you thought fearfully.

You quickly dropped into a clumsy curtsy before you forgot yourself. “A-as you wish, Lady Bela,” you choke out.

“Hm… we’ll see, won’t we.” She dissolved into a sea of flies and flew down the hallway and out of sight.

You breathed heavily. Your heart was still going a mile a minute. Before you could say anything, Mary grabbed your arm and tugged you along.

“Wha-“

“Shh,” she hissed. “Not yet.”

You followed her silently to the kitchen. This whole situation was too hard to process… you’d barely been in Romania for a day and you suddenly had to face the reality of your imminent death.

You felt lightheaded. Your vision swam.

“Where are you, draga mea?” A smooth, enchanting voice swirled in your mind. You felt your pulse hammering in your temples. The voice sounded so close, yet so far away. It was familiar and warm… but it was too hard to tell if it meant anything. You were too woozy, too lightheaded…

“It’s time to wake up, darling,” the voice continued dreamily, “Open your eyes for me?”

“...hey… hey!” A familiar voice hissed, “hello? Are you alright?”

Your eyes snapped open.

Mary stood in front of you, her hands on your shoulders. Once she saw you move, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you alright? You haven’t blinked for the past few minutes, nor have you responded to anything or anyone around you.”

“Yeah, I just…” you swallowed thickly. What was wrong with you? “... I just spaced out.” Mary frowned, giving you a suspicious glance, but didn’t push.

You were in the kitchen. Cooks and maids bustled around in an organized fashion, whispering instructions to each other while slicing, cooking, and plating bright red slabs of meat. You definitely didn’t want to know what kind the Dimitrescu’s were eating tonight.

Someone grabbed your arm and you flinched, turning around. It was one of the older cooks, a salt and pepper haired woman with soot-stained clothes and greasy calloused hands. She shoved a a bottle of wine into your hands so fast, you nearly dropped it. She glowered at you.

“As soon as the meal is served, you pop open the bottle and pour for everyone.” She hurriedly rattled off instructions. “When they finish their drink, pour them another. You do not look at them, you do not touch them or their glasses, you don’t even breathe around them. And for the love of the Goddess: Do. Not. Spill.”

You gulped and nodded. You just had to do your job, then leave. That’s all. You could do this.

Or so you told yourself.

The old woman gave you a quick look, and for a moment it seemed she gave you a twinge of a sympathetic smile. But just like that it was gone, replaced by her signature scowl.

“Alright, we go in three…” she held up three fingers covered in burn scars. One second passed. Then another.

The kitchen maids smoothly entered the dining room in one sweeping motion; a flurry of skirts and iron serving trays. You followed them close behind. The maids placed the trays in front of each Dimitrescu before fleeing to the kitchen single file.

And then it hit you.

You were the only maid who was supposed to stay throughout the entire meal.

Without you even knowing it, Bela had assigned you one of the most dangerous jobs at the castle; one where you had to stay, alone, in the same room as four hungry, bloodthirsty vampires.

You quickly began pouring the wine.

You walked around the massive mahogany table, trying your best not to spill the blood-red drink. You poured for Bela first, and you tried your absolute best not to look her in the eye. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw her grinning.

You moved on to the next Dimitrescu: a redhead with glistening fangs. As you poured, she suddenly hissed. In your surprise, you fumbled the bottle. But you didn’t spill.

The last sister (you assumed all three of them were sisters based on their similar appearances) was a brunette with mischievous eyes. You didn’t mean to look at her… you really didn’t…

Based on her low, rumbling cackle, you knew you were doomed.

The last Dimitrescu, the Lady Dimitrescu, was much different than the other three. She was incredibly tall, with a flowing white dress that fell to her ankles, a wide-brimmed hat…

And pearly-white satin gloves.

Why did that seem so familiar?

You shook your head. You had to stop thinking and just pour the wine! You only had one more glass to fill, after all.

The brunette stuck out her foot, and you went down.

You landed on top of the bottle, and it shattered under you. Glass and wine flew everywhere, piercing your clothes, slicing your skin, staining the rug…

And completely drenching the front of Lady Dimitrescu’s immaculate dress.

The air cracked with electricity. “You...” she hissed, in a stranglely familiar voice.

Before you could even beg for forgiveness, the towering terror of a woman stood from the table and grasped you by the collar before you could even blink.

She growled, breath smelling of blood. “You will pay for your insole-“ her breath hitched. Her death grip on you loosened and faded, till you dropped to the floor like a rag doll.

Fearfully, you looked up at her.

Her demeanor had completely changed. Where once stood a cold-hearted monster was a shocked, crying… woman. Tears streaked down her face, dripping from her chin as she sunk to the floor. She didn’t look like a monster, she looked… human.

The lady reached out a gloved hand, then flinched as if burned. She looked lost and confused and sad; unable to process what she was looking at… or rather, who she was looking at.

A chill ran up your spine, fearful tendrils snaking through your system as you both stared into each other’s eyes.

And then, Lady Dimitrescu uttered a single word, barely a whisper at all, and your stomach dropped. Your world spun.

“Y/N?”

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Everything you had ever known was completely useless, and your life would end at any moment, you were sure. You felt like crying, you felt like throwing up.

She said your name.

Lady Dimitrescu, one of the most powerful supernatural beings in the world, who couldn’t possibly know who you were, had said your name.

It was too much. There were too many strong emotions, too many near-death experiences in one day. Your body was bloody and exhausted, your energy spent.

You collapsed on the dining room floor, and your vision faded to black.

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitriscu x reader #my fic #my writing #gender neutral reader #reader insert #re8 #surprise y’all I love cliffhangers :)#suffer :))))

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whatisthiswritingthing · 3 years

Text

Keep it a Secret - Kristie Mewis x Reader

Prompt: Maybe an imagine, where R is the sister of one of the players (you can choose who) and R and Kristie are trying to hide their relationship at camp, because they know that their sisters would freak if they would know about them. Love your imagines.

Note: This really spiralled and became a little angstier than intended and ended up not really matching the prompt anymore.

“Do you have any idea how hot you are?” Y/N mumbled against Kristie’s neck, hips pressing her into the wall of her hotel room.

Kristie tipped her head back, giving Y/N more room to scrape her teeth along her neck.

“Fuck, you are making it really hard to keep this a secret,” Kristie bit her lip, trying to supress her moan, hand gripping Y/N’s neck.

Y/N ignored her, switching sides and making her way back up. One hand sliding up her shirt while the other braced against the wall, both rolling their hips into each other.

With a groan, Kristie placed both hands on Y/N’s chest, pushing her away. Y/N pulled her hand out from Kristie’s shirt, but tried to lean in and kiss her girlfriend, only to be pushed away again.

Y/N pulled back, taking a full step away, confused.

Kristie reached up and ran a thumb along Y/N’s bottom lip.

“If we don’t stop now, we won’t, we won’t,” she repeated when she noticed Y/N about to argue.

“you know I’m right, because I very much liked where that was going. But that will do nothing keep this a secret.”

“Ugh!” Y/N groaned, taking a few steps and flopping backwards on the bed. “Then you need to stop looking that good.” Y/N moved to be leaning on her elbows, shamelessly eyeing her girlfriend.

As if summoning them, there was a series of loud knocks on the door.

“Hey losers! Open up!” Rose called through the door.

Both made eye contact and laughed.

“Fix your hair, you have a just about to be fucked look. Oh wait,” Y/N let the sentence hang, smirking and getting up to open the door.

As soon as the door opened, Rose, Mal, Sonnett, and Lindsey plowed in, each making themselves at home in the room.

“What are you two doing?” Lindsey tossed a random sock at Kristie.

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N winked.

“What aren’t we worrying about?” Sam questioned as she entered the room.

“What these two losers were doing before we got here,” Sonnett filled in.

Y/N and Kristie both purposefully avoiding each other as the group caught up now that they were all back together for camp. The couple had somehow gotten lucky and were sharing a room, after having been apart for months, the two just wanted to be alone but knew their friends weren’t going to be leaving them alone anytime soon.

The two had been together for almost a year, unfortunately being separated for most of it due to playing on separate teams. Luckily, they were both from Massachusetts, making off season much easier to continue to keep their relationship secret. Sam was oblivious to most things around her, so keeping it secret from her was easy. Short of the couple making out in front of them, Sam would never figure it out.

Christen however, was too perceptive for her own damn good. She could easily figure them, probably already had. She had been sending them strange looks the last couple camps but had yet to question them.

It was hard for Kristie and Y/N to keep their relationship secret though. Both women generally being very tactile, enjoying physical touch. They struggled to keep their hands to themselves. Thankfully they had all been friends for years before the two had transitioned to a relationship, so minimal touching didn’t really alert anyone to a change.

“Sibling!” Christen called as she burst into the room, jumping onto Y/N, pulling her into a hug.

“Hey Chris,” Y/N chuckled at her enthusiasm, hugging her sister back.

The group all made their way down for supper shortly after. Y/N instinctually placed her hand on Kristie’s lower back as they walked through the door, Kristie leaning into the touch briefly before they caught themselves and pulled apart quickly. Each focussing on the ground as they walked to separate tables.

Christen smirked.

Kristie and Y/N kept sneaking glances throughout the meal, one would glance up to see the other already looking, then both would look away blushing.

As soon as the door closed to their hotel room, Kristie had Y/N pinned to the wall. Hands gliding up her sides under her shirt, scratching her nails down.

“Fuck Kristie,” Y/N moaned out, arching into the touch.

Kristie stepped forward, pinning Y/N’s hips to the wall with her own.

Y/N gripped the hem of Kristie’s shirt, pulling it up and off. Then gripped her hips and spun them around, hands moving to Kristie’s hamstrings and lifting her, who immediately wrapped her legs around Y/N.

Y/N carried Kristie to the bed, gently placing her down, pressing herself the length of Kristie’s body. She shifted one leg between Kristie’s, who started to roll her hips up.

Kristie moaned, pawing at Y/N’s shirt, pulling it off of her.

“Open up losers!” Rose banged on the door again.

“No,” Y/N moaned into Kristie’s neck. “Maybe if we pretend we aren’t here they’ll leave.”

“You know they won’t” Kristie pushed Y/N off.

Grabbing a sweater, throwing one at Y/N, Kristie opened the door.

“What took you so long?” Mal gave them weird looks as they walked in.

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N shot them a wink.

“Gross, is this bed safe to sit on?” Lindsey walked in, picking up on the inuendo.

“Don’t be crude Lindsey,” Sam fake gagged.

The rest of the group laughed.

“Yea, look at these two, not a chance there’s anything happening,” Sonnett added. “Besides, Kristie could do waaaayy better.” She added, flopping onto the bed next to Y/N, knocking their shoulders together to show she was joking.

Y/N rolled her eyes, satisfied none of them had figured it out.

The group hung out until curfew and then all dispersed to their own rooms.

Kristie and Y/N getting ready for bed, Kristie messing up the one bed to make it look slept in before sliding into the other with Y/N, rolling her onto her back with a hard kiss.

Things quickly escalated, having been interrupted twice already, both were ready to combust with sexual frustration.

Both exhausted, Kristie rested her head on Y/N’s chest, absentmindedly running her fingers on Y/N’s stomach.

“How much do you think Sam would freak if she found out what happened minutes after she left this bed?” Y/N chuckled.

“Sam freaks out over a stain on her shirt, she would have an aneurism if she knew anything about this,” Kristie looked up, grinning.

Both were right, they knew Same would lose her mind if she found out Kristie and Y/N were together. Christen they weren’t sure how she would react, probably be upset they didn’t tell her, hopefully be supportive. They had decided to just keep it between them for now, at first it was because it had happened so suddenly, then they just liked the simplicity of people not knowing, now it was getting harder to keep secret; it was at the point they knew it was serious and would progressing into something long term.

“How obvious do you think we could be before Sam figures it out?” Y/N smirked.

Kristie propped up on her elbow, looking down at Y/N. She could see the insecurity on her face. Placing a gentle kiss on Y/N’s forehead, she stared down.

“Do you want to tell them?” Kristie asked gently.

They both knew Sam would be the one that would be an issue when they told their siblings. Nothing seemed to phase Christen and was always so supportive of Y/N.

“No, I don’t know, I know Sam will freak out,” Y/N rambled, unsure.

“Where’s this coming from babe?”

“Fuck, I don’t Kristie. I don’t know if it’s because I finally get to see you after so long, but all day I just wanted to touch you. Just hold your hand, sit with you at supper, you know, stuff like that,” Y/N rambled.

“Me too Y/N/N,” Kristie leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” she placed another kiss on her forehead.

Y/N just shrugged noncommittally. Kristie just watched her.

“I just, I know it was my idea to keep us a secret, but it’s getting hard. Being away from you so much is hard. Not being able to fly out to you on bye weeks is hard. Having to be the last one to hear if you’re ok when you go down is hard. It’s just all getting so hard.”

“Then let’s tell people, or at the very least our sisters, or just stop hiding it,” Kristie made it sound so easy.

“No, we don’t need to do that. I’m just overwhelmed or something, I don’t know,” Y/N wouldn’t make eye contact with Kristie.

Kristie gently held Y/N’s face, scratching her nails into the baby hairs.

“Why don’t you sleep on it? See how you feel in the morning, decide from there.” Kristie suggested.

Y/N nodded, tugging Kristie to lay back down. Running her fingers up and down Kristie’s spine, Y/N tried to settle her mind.

She knew she loved Kristie, but she knew she couldn’t tell her. Sonnett had been right, Kristie could do much better than her. As much as Kristie said she was alright telling their sisters, she knew this wasn’t as serious for Kristie as it was for her.

Y/N was gone when Kristie woke up the next morning. Kristie got ready quickly and made her way down for breakfast hoping to find her girlfriend.

Kristie was disappointed when she walked into the banquet room and didn’t see Y/N.

“Where’s your other half?” Mal teased, walking up behind Kristie.

“What?” Kristie turned around quickly.

“Y/N, where’s Y/N?” Mal asked again.

“Oh, um, I don’t know. She was gone before I got up this morning,” the pair made their way through the buffet.

Kristie knew Y/N hadn’t slept much the night before, because she too had been awake most of the night. What Y/N had said last night kept her mind running. She wanted to tell her sister too, but she knew Sam would not react well. Not because she didn’t like Y/N or think they would be a good couple, but because that’s just who Sam was. Kristie knew Y/N had a tendency to overthink and internalize most of her thoughts. Christen she didn’t know. That one could go either way, but Kristie knew how close the sisters were and could see how hard it was getting for Y/N to not tell Christen. Kristie also knew how protective Christen was of her younger sister.

Halfway through breakfast, Y/N tried to sneak into the banquet room, hoping to get in undetected. Kristie had been watching the door the entire meal though, so saw her as soon as she walked in. Her eyes followed Y/N as she walked to the buffet table. Y/N was dressed in her running clothes, drenched in sweat, clearly having just come back from a run. Kristie watched as Y/N grabbed a bottle of water and a banana before trying to sneak out again.

Kristie shot out of her chair when she saw Y/N leave the room again, concerned at how strange Y/N was being.

“Y/N!” Kristie called out as the girl tried to duck into the stairwell.

Kristie could see her shoulder drop before turning around.

“Hey Kristie, I was just about head up for a shower. Wanna join?” Y/N waggled her eyebrows, but Kristie could see behind the invitation.

Kristie quickly closed the distance, pushing Y/N into the stairwell.

“What’s going on?” Kristie placed her hand on Y/N’s neck, the other fisting her shirt.

“Went for a run,” Y/N shrugged.

“We have a double day today, why would you go for a run?” Kristie challenged, applying pressure to Y/N’s hip.

Y/N just shrugged again, making to pull away from Kristie. Kristie applied more pressure to the hip to keep in her in place.

The two made eye contact, each challenging the other. Kristie debating how much to push her girlfriend, Y/N trying to push her emotions down.

Kristie slowly released her grip, taking a step back.

“I’ll see you later Kris,” Y/N called out, turning and running up the stairs.

Kristie released a sigh, letting her shoulders drop. She was about to make her way out of the stairwell when the door opened again, Christen walking in.

“Hey, everything ok? I saw Y/N sneak out and you rush after,” Christen asked softly. She knew something was going on between her sister and the midfielder.

“Hmm? Oh yea, all good,” Kristie tried to step around Christen.

“Kristie?” Christen gently grabbed Kristie’s arm as she walked past. “I know there’s something between the two of you, it’s ok.”

Kristie’s head shot up; eyes nervous at the declaration.

“It’s ok,” Christen repeated, rubbing her hand up and down Kristie’s arm.

“We’ve been together almost a year. I think she wants to start telling people, she mentioned it last night. But we both know Sam will lose her mind, no idea how you would react,” Kristie answered softly, knowing there was no point in denying it now.

Christen pulled Kristie into a hug. “It’s ok. I figured it out a couple camps ago. You guys are great together, even when you’re trying to hide it.”

Kristie hugged her back, letting out a small chuckle, “of course you figured it out.”

“No one else knows, if that helps, and Sam will never figure it out if you guys don’t tell her,” Christen reassured.

“I’m going to go talk to her, she always runs when she is stuck in her head,” Kristie pulled away, starting up the stairs.

“Hey Kristie,” Christen called her back, “she feels the same way,”

Kristie gave her a strange look but Christen just walked out the stairwell.

Slowly making her way into their shared room, Kristie heard the water running in the shower, she settled on the bed to wait.

Y/N walked out in loose sweats and a sports bra, drying her hair with a towel.

“Hey babe, feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, “I’m sorry about this morning, and uhh last night.”

“Christen knows,” Kristie decides to just cut to the chase.

“I’m not surprised,” Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “she always picks up on this kind of thing.”

“You’re ok with that?”

Y/N shrugged again, “she knows, not like I can change that.”

Kristie shook her head, Y/N was being difficult about this.

“Y/N/N,” Kristie trailed off, not knowing what else to add.

“Really, I am. It was going to start coming out at some point and Christen is pretty observant, I’m surprised it took her this long.”

“Alright,” the midfielder hesitated, “so what do you want to do now?”

Y/N shrugged again, pulling a shirt on, “we keep going as is I guess.”

“Give me something to work with here Y/N!” Kristie flopped on the back, rubbing both hands down her face.

“What do you want from me?” Y/N snapped. “What do you want from this? From us?”

Kristie sat up at the sudden outburst, Y/N looking at her, eyes hard. She cocked her head to the side, confused at the abrupt change.

“I want whatever you want Y/N/N,” Kristie began cautiously, “umm, I want you, to be with you, to continue to be your girlfriend. I’m not really sure what you want me to say.”

Y/N continued to stare at Kristie. Kristie staring back, having no idea what else to say, no idea what Y/N wanted to her to say.

Finally, Y/N’s shoulder dropped, chin dropping too, she took a shaking breath in.

Kristie softened, “there’s more to this than people finding out, isn’t there?”

Y/N shrugged, only to slowly nod.

“You want to be with me, with um, be together?” Y/N stammered out.

“Of course,” Kristie replied with no hesitation. “I am crazy about you Y/N, there is no one else I could picture myself, not now, not ever. What are you thinking?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders again, starting to pace the room.

“I don’t know, my mind just seems to be all over the place right now. What Sonnett said just kind of stuck with me yesterday and then us talking about how Sam would react, and I just really fucking miss you,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair frustrated.

Kristie got off the bed and grabbed Y/N by her biceps, squeezing them tight to get her attention, holding her firmly when she tried to pull away. When Y/N wouldn’t stop trying to pull away, Kristie wrapped moved to pull her into a tense hug.

“Listen to me Y/N,” Kristie started assertively, “Sonnett thinks she’s funny, there is no way you are not good enough for me. We are both fucking amazing people and are fucking amazing together.”

Y/N relaxed slightly in Kristie’s arms, Kristie pulled away, keeping her hands on Y/N’s arms.

“What if we just keep being us? Not tell anyone, no big speech or anything, but just us being us. You can hold my hand when you want, sit next to me at meals, I’ll make you my emergency contact. We can make out in front of Sam and see if she thinks we are just friends.”

Kristie smiled when that earned her a small giggle.

“I’m sorry for freaking out like this,” Y/N mumbled shyly, pulling herself back into Kristie’s arm, nestling her nose into her neck.

Kristie rubbed her hand up and down Y/N’s back, “you don’t have to apologize gorgeous, just tell me what’s going on in you head so I can help.”

“I’m just worried this means more to me than it does to you.”

Kristie’s hand stopped moving and tried to extract Y/N from her arms, only for Y/N to hold on tighter.

“I am so fucking in love with you Y/N,” Kristie said firmly.

This got Y/N to pull away, eyes wide.

“This means just as much to me as it does to you. You mean everything to me,” Kristie moved both her hands to Y/N’s head, holding it in place to make eye contact. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N whispered softly.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #kristie mewis x reader #kristie mewis imagine

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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

Text

Bad Timing (Levi x Reader) Part 5

Summary: How do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brother’s best friend?

Work Count: 6.3K

You were angry. Of course Levi had to go and stir the pot right before the holiday season. The time of year when he spent the most of his hours at your home. Even though he spent most of his time at your house throughout the whole year, this amount of time typically doubled through the months of October through December. The remaining weeks in October were the worst. You both expertly avoided one another, Petra and Levi continued to see each other exclusively. This turned out to be bittersweet for you, the pros were that Levi was busy trying to please Petra to spend too much time at your house. But also it stung to see him with her, even though you had no right to feel jealous.

The two weeks after your kiss, you spent holed up in your room, your phone set on do not disturb. After binging Gossip Girls and all of the classic Disney movies, you finally decided that instead of focusing on romance, you would devote yourself to school. Thankfully you weren't the only person that favored school over social gatherings, you found yourself spending countless hours in the school's musty library with Armin. He was so easy to get along with, down to earth, kind, and most importantly, he was too shy to ask you about anything too personal. Today was one of those days, it was nearing the end of November, the trees had shed their leaves, bearing the naked bark. And the weather was constantly changing. Some days it would snow, others it would pour rain, but that was just the midwest for you. Glancing up from the textbook that had held your attention for the past two hours, your were pleased to see a flurry of fat snowflakes spiraling downwards. The window had frost creeping up from the corners, thank God, maybe the weather would finally settle and allow the snow to stick for once. You could feel Armin staring at you, his eyes piercing the back of your skull. a feeling you had become familiar with. Turning back to face him, he averted his eyes, a comforting pink creeping onto his cheeks with the embarrassment of being caught.

"It's really coming down huh?" you tried to initiate some light small talk.

"Yeah! Hopefully it will stick." Armin responded, a nervous chuckle slipping past his lips as he returned his attention back to his homework. You hummed, glancing back down at the yellowing pages of the old history textbook, a frown marring your features.

"What's wrong? Need some help?" Armin asked, standing up from his seat and coming to stand behind you.

"Oh, well I guess I'm just confused about this law." you pulled the response from your ass. Of course you understood Roe v. Wade, you just didn't want to tell Armin that you were ready to leave. He always made this face that reminded you of a puppy that just got drop kicked.

"Roe v. Wade huh? I can help you with that no problem!" his baby blue eyes lit up, he pulled the nearest chair up to the table, the legs loudly scratching against the rickety library floors.

"Great, thanks!" you tried to sound excited, and you tried even harder to focus on Armin's summary of Roe v. Wade.

"Easy right?" Armin chirped, his finger hovering over the paragraph that explained the law.

"You're right, I think that I just need a break. My brain feels fried." you moaned, folding your arms across the desk and burying your head in your arms.

"Likewise." Armin agreed, dragging his chair closer to yours not very subtly.

"Want to go grab a coffee?" you asked, barely lifting your head to glance at him.

"Sure." he beamed, his innocent face completely lighting up. Your library had a small coffee shop nestled in the back, the cafe was run by students who had free periods. Granted the coffee wasn't the best, but it still did the job. You thanked the girl behind the counter as she passed you your steaming cup of dark liquid. Armin was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he waited for his order, you busied yourself with mixing in sugar and some creamer. Finally the barista gave Armin his latte and the two of you meandered back to your corner. You slowly began packing your things, hoping that Armin would get the hint and you would be able to escape the stuffy library. Armin noticed, you closed the book with a sigh and began stuffing pens and other writing utensils into your small pencil case.

"Ready to call it a day?" Armin asked his lips hovering over the steaming hot coffee.

"Yeah, I told Hange that I would be ready to leave by the time she finished with Science Olympiad." you sighed, gathering the assortment of books that you had pulled from the shelves getting up to return them to their rightful places.

"Oh gotcha, same time Thursday?" He asked hopefully, his light blue eyes meeting yours. You clicked your tongue and grimaced, shooting him an apologetic look.

"Ah I would but my mom has Thursday off so I was going to have dinner with her." you explained, watching Armin get that kicked puppy look, that look always had a way of making your heart hurt.

"Aw well have fun!" he waved you off, the sad look on his face replaced with a small forced smile.

"Thanks Armin, I'll see you in Chem tomorrow." you smiled sweetly at him as you turned to leave.

"Bye!" he waved goodbye to you as you pulled the large door open and slipped out. Sparing a glance at your watch you sighed, Hange should be done in the next 5 minutes. But knowing her she would take another 20 minutes to wrap up her Science Olympiad meeting. So you leisurely strolled down the empty stone corridor, your eyes trained on the large windows that lined the hallway and overlooked the courtyard. The library was on the second floor, which gave you a perfect view of the school grounds. The snow seemed to be falling faster now, the flakes were beginning to stick to the blades of grass, giving the lawn a patchy appearance. Hopefully Hange had remembered her snow scraper, surely the car would have a coating of frost on the windows by now. It would not be the first time that the two of you had to scrape ice from her windows using your credit cards or your school ids.

You turned your attention back to the stony corridor, you had almost reached the stairs. You began your descent, a hand loosely gliding down the cold stone banister. Your mind drifted to thoughts of what Erwin's plans were for this evening, did he plan to eat dinner with you? Or would he run off with Hange as he had been doing for the past week or so? You had noticed that the pair had been spending more time alone as of late, and you couldn't blame them. Erwin was already committed to Notre Dame, a prestigious school known for football and extraordinary academics. Hange had recently been accepted into Princeton, one of the eight ivy league schools, and she was ecstatic. This however means that they will attending schools in different states. You knew that they planned to continue dating despite the distance, personally you were a tad skeptical of long distance relationships, but you knew that they were both mature enough to continue seeing each other.

You paused on the landing between floors, the sound of laughter was echoing off the stoney walls.

"That was a dirty move Kirstein!" you recognized Eren's agitated voice, which was closely followed by the hearty laughter of Conny and Marco.

"Pay closer attention next time Jeager." Jean teased, a smile spread across your lips at the sound of your friends. Their presence motivated you to jog down the remaining stairs and turn the corner. Just at you poked your head around the corner your eyes landed on the group of boys walking towards you.

"Oi (Y/n)! Where's Armin?" Eren called out to you first and you waved.

"Still in the library." you jabbed your thumb back towards the stairs behind you.

"Classic." Conny sniggered as he adjusted his duffle bag on his shoulder. You pursed your lips as you took in their uniforms. They wore soccer jerseys and shorts, a matching set of forest green, the school crest, a pair of wings one blue and one white, rested above their left breast over their hearts.

"Indoor soccer?" you asked, nodding towards the ball tucked under Marco's arm. The boy nodded and tossed you the ball.

"Season just started." he stated proudly, you easily caught the ball and smiled at him. Marco was your age, but you didn't usually spend time with him outside of school. The two of you had grown close the year prior when you had been in the same gym class, but since then you hadn't spoken very much.

"How exciting." you murmured as you gripped the ball in your hands. The boys nodded and you tossed the ball back to Marco.

"What are you doing here so late?" Jean asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Studying for the Government test with Armin." you shrugged, tucking your hands in your pockets. Things had been tense in your friend group since you and Jean had began casually seeing one another. The two of you had gone out on a handful of dates over the past month, all of them enjoyable. But you knew you didn't want a full blown relationship, something you still needed to tell Jean.

"Ah gotcha. So will you be coming to Sasha's friendsgiving party this weekend?" Jean inquired, his eyes shined with a glint of hope.

"Oh, I almost forgot about that! Yeah I'll be there." you smiled, a rush of excitement running through you when you remembered the invitation you had received earlier this week.

"What are you bringing?" Conny butted in, licking his lips. You hummed thoughtfully, what would you bring?

"Maybe macaroni and cheese? Or a pie?" You thought aloud as you lifted a hand to cup your chin. Conny groaned and grabbed your shoulder.

"Pie, please for the love of God bring your pie." he begged, his hand squeezing your shoulder. You giggled at this eagerness, and nodded. Pies were easy enough to bake, and if that's what people wanted then you would be more than happy to deliver.

"Thank you thank you thank you-" Conny shook you as he thanked you profusely, Eren snarled and tugged the two of you apart, while Marco and Jean laughed.

"Knock it off baldy." he hissed as he tossed Conny back. You chuckled and waved your hands dismissively.

"I'd better go, Hange should be done soon." you sighed, your eyes straying to the nearest window, you gasped. The snow was coming down in thick swirls, the sun had dipped below the horizon, making it difficult to see much through the snow.

"Oh wow, that's a lot of snow!" Marco exclaimed as he turned to follow your gaze. Jean let out a low whistle, Conny squealed excitedly.

"Yeah I better get going." you called over your shoulder as you made a break for the west wing, which was where the senior parking lot was located. The halls were dark, you only crossed paths with one janitor who didn't even glance up at you. You paused at the door at the end of the hallway and squinted out into the blizzard. The parking lot was dark, a clear indicator that Hange had not arrived to warm up the car before you.

"Ah there you are, perfect timing!" Hange's booming voice startled you as it echoed through the empty hall.

"Oh Hange, thank God, please tell me you have your scraper." you fretted, Hange grimaced, giving you an apologetic smile.

"Yeah about that..." she muttered, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. You groaned and reached into your backpack for your wallet. You fished out your drivers license and your credit card and turned back to the snowy parking lot.

"Better get started then." you grumbled, Hange laughed anxiously and moved to open the door for the both of you.

"Right."

___

You flexed your raw fingers by the vents as they blasted hot air into the cabin of the car. Hange was rubbing her hands together furiously and blowing hot air on her own frigid fingers.

"For the love of God, just keep the scraper in the car year round." you moaned as you slid your id back into your wallet.

"Might be a good idea actually." Hange stuttered between the chattering of her teeth. You huffed, tucking your hands underneath your thighs in an attempt to regain the feeling in your hands. Hange shifted the gear to drive and slowly pulled the car out of the parking lot, the wipers squeaking against the glass as they swiped the relentless snow off of the windshield.

"So, what do you want for dinner kiddo?" she gushed, her coppery eyes glinting mischievously.

"I dunno, something hot." you jabbed back, shifting on your hands.

"Whole gangs going to be there!" Hange prodded, clearly attempting to get a reaction from you.

"Great, who's cooking?" you taunted, shooting her a smile to show that you meant well.

"Oh well I guess Nanaba could." Hange mused, pleased with your good natured jabs.

"Great I'm starving." you leaned back and closed your eyes. Hange chuckled and turned her eyes back to the dark road ahead.

The drive took longer than usual due to the heavy snowfall. The roads were slick with the fresh snow, which stuck stubbornly to the road due to the lack of traffic on the country roads. But you made it to your house without a hitch. Erwin's minivan was already covered in a layer of snow, and Levi's BMW was untouched, Mike and Nanaba had not yet arrived. Hange parked and the two of you quickly gathered your belongings and walked briskly to the front door. You kicked your feet on the mat before entering, the foyer already a bit wet due to snow being tracked in on shoes. You peeled off your shoes with Hange and carried your things upstairs, Hange following close behind. Hange slipped into Erwin's room while you dropped your bag in your own room. You hadn't seen your brother or his short friend yet which was odd, they usually hung out in the kitchen. You met Hange back in the hall, her glasses, which had fogged up when you had entered the house were perched atop of her auburn hair.

"Where are they?" you asked bluntly as you watched her scrub the spectacles with the hem of her sweater.

"Beats me, let's go make some soup or something." Hange shrugged, holding her glasses up to the light to inspect the lenses. So you jogged down the stairs and began pawing through the pantry through the abundance of canned goods. You frowned at the cream of mushroom soup and set it back into the pile before refocusing.

"Heyyy now we're talking!" Hange crooned, you turned to see her pulling out a frozen pizza from the depths of your freezer. You scoffed before turning back to the pantry, a frown settling on your features.

"How about tomato soup and grilled cheese?" you offered as you pulled out two cans of tomato soup and a loaf of bread. Hange shrugged and tossed the pizza back into the freezer, she then opened the fridge and pulled out an assortment of cheese. The two of you fell into your effortless rhythm Hange stirred the soup while you began to cook the sandwiches. Finally the front door banged open, Levi's combat boots squeaking as he walked into the house, he haphazardly kicked off the shoes and stalked into the kitchen and straight into the living room. You raised your eyebrows in surprise as you watched him walk through the house, his arms full with kindling. Erwin followed closely behind, his arms also full of firewood. So that's where the pair had been. Hange fawned over them, greeting Erwin by dusting off bits of bark from his coat before turning to pat Levi's head. Levi swatted her sticky hands off of his head and glared at her menacingly.

"Hands off four eyes." Levi hissed, he ducked expertly underneath her arm and fled to the kitchen where you were flipping a grilled cheese. Erwin and Hange began the chore of lighting the fire while you took on the task of cooking as per usual. Levi frowned at the sight of the damp foyer and turned on his heel to grab the mop. You smiled at the sight of him mopping the floor despite the fact that people were still on their way and it would only end up messy again. Sure enough, just as Levi tossed the dirty water out of the front door and tucked the mop back in the closet, Mike and Nanaba strutted in, arms full of assorted baked goods and board games.

"Hey everybody! Hope we didn't miss anything!" Nanaba trilled as she tracked more snow into the front room. Levi heaved a sigh as he turned to grab the mop, you chuckled and took the container of cookies from her arms so she could take off her jacket. Mike nodded at you as he strolled into the living room where Hange and Erwin were still fumbling to light the fire wood.

"No, we actually only just got home about thirty minutes ago." you assured the blonde as she joined you in the kitchen. She smiled as she watched Mike kneel down to join Erwin and Hange as they blew on the small embers.

"What games did you guys bring?" you attempted to make small talk as you turned back to the task at hand.

"Oh the usuals, Sequence, Candy Land, Clue, etcetera." she waved a hand dismissively as she turned to stir the soup.

"Sounds fun!" you exclaimed as you tossed another sandwich on the plate. Nanaba hummed in response as she smiled stupidly into the soup. You pursed your lips and cocked your head as you studied her.

"Not to be that person but...Have you picked a school yet?" you asked with a small chuckle. She nodded,

"Yeah actually, just picked two days ago!" she beamed, turning to face you once more.

"Wow really?"

"Yeah! I'm going to attend Michigan State University with Mike!" she gushed as she set the spoon off to the side with a clang.

"That's great! Michigan is beautiful, and that's an awesome school." you matched her excitement and dumped the final sandwich on the plate and switched the stove off.

"Thanks! We're super excited." her words were so sweet and filled with love it made you feel sick. You nodded and turned to grab plates and bowls for everyone. Nanaba and Mike had only started dating about a month prior, in fact they had admitted their affections to one another back in October at your house. In a way you envied their effortless relationship, despite only dating for a month they made a great pair. You served yourself and moved to sit at the island in the kitchen. A cheer from the living room told you that the trio had finally ignited the fire, shortly after they piled into the kitchen and began to dish food onto their plates. Levi once again stuffed the mop and bucket back into the closet and feverishly washed his hands before serving himself. As he reached for a grilled cheese the sleeve of his hoodie scrunched up, revealing a new tattoo on his left wrist. Your jaw dropped momentarily, the sight of the fresh ink shocking you. In fact it was so fresh that the skin around the ink was still red and a bit swollen, glistening with the salve. He rounded the island and dropped into the stool to your left, and your eyes went straight to his wrist.

"Fresh ink?" you asked, propping your chin on the heel of your hand as you watched him bring the spoon to his mouth.

"Yeah." he replied, not bothering to elaborate.

"Can I see?" you pressed, Levi shot you a glare as he bit into his sandwich but still lifted his hand for you to pull his sleeve up. You gingerly tugged his sleeve up and a tiny 'awe' escaped your lips. The drawing was extremely minimalistic, the delicate black ink contrasting beautifully with his pale skin tone. It was a small tea cup, with a chip in its rim. Levi scoffed and tugged his arm back.

"That's a good one Levi." you gushed as you turned back to your own meal.

"Thanks." he grumbled as he looked everywhere but your face.

"Where do you get them done?" you asked before taking a huge bite of your sandwich.

"WitchHammer." he grunted, his patience growing thin. All of these questions reminded him of a particular brunette. You hummed in response as you entertained the idea of getting a tattoo for your 16th birthday that was coming up in the next couple of months. You already had an appointment at the shop to get your forward helix pierced on your left ear. The others were getting rowdy on the other side of the island, too engrossed in their conversation to notice the side conversation Levi and you were engaging in.

"Did it hurt?" you quizzed feeling a bit playful. You had missed Levi's bluntness and his shitty sense of humor.

"I would be lying if I said no." he retorted, his sharp eyes catching yours for the first time in weeks. You chuckled and nodded as you chewed your food.

"You think that I would look good with a couple tattoos?" you giggled, smiling broadly at the raven haired boy. He clicked his tongue and turned to take you in, his eyes raking over your form. Finally his eyes settled on your hands, his brows pinched together in thought as he stared.

"Personally...I like minimalistic designs, you could probably pull off some finger tats or hand tats." he mused, you glanced at your hands, interesting. You held your hands up to the light to get a better look and began to think of some small designs that you might be interested in.

"Tattoos are a big commitment, don't just get some stupid shit." Levi lectured as he lifted his cup of tea to his lips, you frowned he was one to talk.

"I know." you decided that tonight wasn't the time to argue with him, especially since this was the first time spending time together in weeks. He nodded but kept a skeptical eye on you as you folded your hands onto your lap and turned to listen to the other conversation. You frowned when you realized they were just talking about prom, awkward. So you decided to clean up, the exhaustion of the long day seemed to hit you like a truck and all you could think about was your bed and all of the work that was due on Sunday. You washed up quickly and waved weakly before trudging up the stairs, thankfully the others didn't seem to care that you were calling it a night early. You changed into a pair of flannel pjs and an old ACDC shirt that had seen better days. You sank into your old desk chair and flicked on the small lamp, you rummaged through your back pack and pulled out your laptop and a notebook. Sparing a glance at the small alarm clock you groaned, it was already well past nine o'clock.

You decided to pick up from where you had left off with your Government notes. Your handwriting started off neat, the ink gliding flawlessly across the lined paper. But by the time you had finished the notes and moved on to your chemistry homework, your handwriting had become rocky at best. You frowned at the smudged ink, the green hue bleeding into the once white paper. With a sigh you reached for your white out and continued to write out the reaction. Once you were finished with Chem, you turned your attention to your research paper for English. As you typed you could feel your eyelids drooping, the words seemed to blur and bend across the computer screen. Closing your eyes for a moment wouldn't hurt would it? A defeated sigh breezed past your lips as you folded your arms across the desk and rested your forehead against your arms to block out the blinding light of your lamp. You yawned and rubbed your eyes in an attempt to wake yourself up, though this seemed to be unsuccessful. As you slipped into sleep, you recalled the last time you had fallen asleep at your desk and how fucked up your back felt the following week. But your exhaustion won and your head slumped against your desk, any pain you felt would be a problem for future you.

Meanwhile, downstairs the upperclassman were well into their third bottle of wine and their fifth round of Candy Land. Erwin flicked the spinner and moved his piece accordingly, Levi sat back and sipped the dry red wine, Mike had his hand thrown over Nanaba's shoulders casually. Hange was leaning her head heavily against Erwin's shoulder and Levi swore he had never felt like such a loser in his whole life. If you were down here at least he wouldn't be the only person down here that was single. Hange howled as Erwin pushed his piece past hers, always the sore looser. Nanaba giggled drunkenly as she choked on her glass of wine. Levi rolled his eyes, his friends were past tipsy now, but not quite drunk, and this was usually when Levi would leave. He hated dealing with drunk people, they were messy and loud, the mere thought of any of them vomiting made him cringe. He waited until the spinner came around to him before he excused himself.

"Count me out." he held up his hand to deny the spinner as Mike tried to hand it to him.

"Awe come on Levi! We can't let Erwin win for the fifth time in a row!" Mike begged as Levi stood up and picked up his glass of wine.

"No." Levi denied, his voice growing colder. The group collectively called for him to stay, their voices a bit unsteady due to the alcohol. Levi shrugged them off and carefully stepped over Hange, she snagged his ankle and held him in a vice grip.

"No, don't go Levi! Finish this game please!" she whimpered as she pressed her face into his calf. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the sudden contact, Erwin chuckled and pulled Hange back and pressed a kiss to her temple. Yeah it was definitely time for him to go to bed, besides he needed to put some vaseline on his fresh ink. He slid into the upstairs bathroom, the sound of his friends laughing fading into the background. Tugging up his sleeve his hissed at the feeling of the raw skin coming in contact with the cold air. He pawed through the drawers, pausing at the sight of your feminine hygiene products. He usually used the downstairs restroom since the guest room was in the basement. He slammed the drawer shut and moved onto the next one, a relieved sigh escaping his lips at the sight of the familiar jar of vaseline. He swiped the jelly onto his tiny tea cup tattoo and rolled his sleeve back down, the soothing jelly immediately calming the irritated skin.

On his way out of the bathroom he noticed the small sliver of light that shined through your cracked door. He glanced down at his wrist watch and frowned, it was one thirty in the morning, you had supposedly gone to bed hours ago. He glanced down the stairs, from the bathroom he could see the open floor layout of the living room, where all of his friends were still gathered. He steeled himself and padded up to your door, he lifted his hand and rapped the backs of his knuckles against the surface. He frowned when there was no response, he gently pushed the door open and tentatively stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, the only light emitting from the small lamp on your desk. His eyes softened at the sight of you slumped onto your desk, but quickly hardened at the sight of drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. He sat his wine glass down as quietly as he could on your nightstand and raked his eyes around your cluttered room in search for a blanket. He spotted a quilt neatly folded on your window seat, he unfolded the blanket and draped it over your shoulders. Just as the blanket was settling on your shoulders and he was pulling his hands back, the door flew open. He jumped, spinning around only to be met with the sight of an unsteady Hange. The brunette's eyes widened at the sight of Levi's hand on the back of your seat.

"What..." her eyes narrowed and she pointed between the two of you.

"Is this?" she finished as she stepped into the room, her body swaying unsteadily. Good question, what was he doing in here?

"I came to shut off her light." Levi lied through his teeth, the truth was that he had wanted to spend more time in your presence.

"Lies." Hange hissed as she pointed accusingly at him.

"Tch, believe what you want four eyes." Levi grunted as he stalked across the room, meaning to make a quick get away before she drew too much attention to this fishy situation.

"Hey don't-" she lunged in an attempt to keep Levi from escaping, spilling her glass of wine onto the white carpet and onto Levi's crisp white hoodie. She caught herself on Levi, a drunk giggle bubbling past her lips as she clung to him. Levi staggered under her weight, his back hitting your wall with a dull thud. You grunted, slowly lifting your head from the desk you turned around to see Levi seething under Hange's weight as she pressed against him. Your eyes widened at the sight, Levi was trying to grab the glass from her hand to prevent further spillage, you were so distracted by the rare sight of Levi and Hange in such close proximity that you didn't notice the quilt falling off your shoulders. You blinked dumbly at the two of them as they grappled for the wine glass, Levi ultimately winning due to Hange's drunken state.

"Levi was peeping on you while you slept." Hange blurted, Levi slammed his hand over her mouth and snarled. You weren't surprised when Levis pulled his hand back with a small gasp, you could just make out the sheen of what you assumed was Hange's drool over his palm. The brunette cackled and staggered away from him and out of the room.

"I'm going to tell Erwin." she sang as she stumbled through the hall with her hand on the wall to guide her.

"Hange don't, it's okay really." you called after her, but your words fell on deaf ears as she rounded the stairs and disappeared.

"Damn it." Levi hissed, his eyes trained on the stain on the ground, he pulled the sweat shirt off of his skin, the alcohol sticking to his skin. You cleared your throat awkwardly as Levi pulled the sweatshirt off. You glanced at the stairs, no sign of Hange and Erwin yet, you could hear the sound of the group stumbling around the kitchen. Hopefully Hange had forgotten and favored grabbing another drink over causing trouble, so you stood up and crossed your room to quietly shut the door. Levi had his head against the wall, his eyes closed expecting an onslaught of accusations. Instead he was surprised to see you digging through your closet, pulling out one of your larger sweatshirts you tossed it to him. He caught the garment and eyed is suspiciously before tugging it over his head.

"Thanks." he mumbled, you waved him off and crossed your room to sit down on your bed.

"What's up?" you questioned, it was certainly out of character for him to be in your room. Levi shrugged and slowly crossed the room to drop down onto your bed next to you.

"Your light was on and I came in to shut it off." Levi replied nonchalantly, his eyes dull as he watched you slip under your covers. A chill ran up your spine, your room always got cold in the winter due to the large windows. After a moment of awkward silence you patted the space beside you, Levi quirked a brow at you but when you smiled at him he slid closer to you. He settled against the headboard with a sigh, you looked up at him, taking in the sharp lines of his jaw and the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. He turned and raised a brow skeptically at you, you giggled and turned to slip deeper under your covers. He scoffed but turned to face you, propping himself up on his elbow. From this close proximity you could smell the wine on his breath, you noticed that his pupils were dilated, and his cheeks flushed.

"Thanks...I guess." you muttered as you watched him reach into his pockets and pull out his juul and take a hit. You frowned as he turned his head away from you to exhale, he sighed contentedly and turned to face you once more.

"You're going to get me in trouble." you scoffed as he attempted to offer you the juul.

"You only live once." he smirked as he dangled the device in your face. You gently pushed his hand away from your face, he shrugged and took another drag.

"Are you sleeping over?" you questioned, he simply nodded and pocketed his juul.

"It's like three in the morning." he scoffed rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Oh, I guess..." you trailed off, the house had grown quiet, hopefully Hange had been dragged to bed by Erwin and had long forgotten about snitching on Levi. You weren't sure what Levi was still doing in your bed, you knew that he wouldn't force himself on you, but still he had never spend this much time alone with you since the time you had kissed. Just as you were about to ask him why he was still in your room, you heard the sound of the front door opening and then quickly closing. Your mother was home, you shoved Levi's shoulder and motioned for him to get out of your bed, a surge of panic rushing through you. Your mom would kill you if she saw Levi in your bed this late. Levi grunted and rolled off the bed, landing heavily on the ground with a thud. You winced and pointed at the door, Levi opened his mouth to say something but ultimately turned and stalked towards the door. When he opened the door, he was met with the tired face of your mother. Her eyes widened at the unexpected sight of Levi.

"Oh, Levi.." she managed to keep her voice even as she took in his appearance, his hair a bit mussed, cheeks pink and wearing your clothes.

"It's not what it looks like mom!" you scrambled out of bed and pushed Levi away from the doorway so that you could address your mother.

"Really..." she narrowed her eyes skeptically as her eyes roamed over your pajamas and messy hair. You grimaced but nodded, she glared at you and heaved a heavy sigh, turning her attention to Levi.

"So your uncle told me that you wouldn't be coming to Christmas this year?" she swiftly changed the subject. Levi blinked, shocked that she had chosen to ignore the suspicious state she had found the two of you in.

"Y-Yeah that's true, I finally saved enough to visit my old friends in France for the holidays." he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Is that so?" she hummed, leaning against the door frame and tugging her light jacket closer to her body. Levi nodded and spared you a glance, you looked surprised, but not upset.

"Well that sounds amazing, you'll have to send us a postcard." she mused, Levi nodded and shifted awkwardly.

"Yes ma'm." he responded, your mother nodded pleased with his response.

"How long will you be gone for?" she probed.

"Until January 8th." Levi answered.

"That's a long time." you quipped, Levi glanced at you and nodded.

"How exciting." your mother's response was genuine, she stepped aside allowing him to pass.

"Yeah." he muttered as he slid past and made his way towards the stairs. Once he was out of sight your mother turned to you, her usually soft features pinching into a scowl.

"Explain." she snapped, pointing a finger at the sizable wine stain.

"Hange spilled it, I'll clean it in the morning." you sighed as you eyed the large purple spot.

"Alright, just make sure that it gets cleaned." your mother leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You smiled at her, it was unusual that you got to see her after her shift.

"How was work?" you asked as you eyed her scrubs, noting a mystery stain on her shirt.

"Messy." she sighed as she followed your gaze.

"Did you save lots of lives?" you giggled.

"Of course." your mother jabbed.

"Get some sleep (Y/n)." she hummed, her hand burying into your messy hair to ruffle it affectionately.

"Goodnight mom." you called after her as she descended the staircase, she waved her hand and you slowly shut the door.

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

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Like a fool [Oliver Wood x Reader] - Heloise’s Christmas Calendar - Challenge

December 24 – Like a fool [Oliver Wood x Reader]

Title: Like a fool Pairing: Oliver Wood x Female!Reader Word count: 4.7k Published: 24 December, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: This is part of Heloise’s Christmas Calendar. Summary: You have fancied the Gryffindor quidditch captain so obviously, the whole school knew about it. Of course, Oliver didn’t miss to realise your feelings which you were sure he secretly returned. That was until you overheard a conversation. Challenge: [x] [x] [x] [x] I wrote this piece for @lunalovegxxd ‘s 12 days of angst event using the below prompt.

24.12 - “Left under the mistletoe”

This is also my entry to @chudleycanons ‘s writing challenge using the below trope and prompt.

Trope: “Unrequited love” Prompt: “You’re all I ever think about.”

Heloise’s Christmas Calendar Masterlist

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Oliver Wood was once again in detention. He was not supposed to, he was the captain of Gryffindor’s quidditch team, he was regulated and composed, a born leader. He was always on top of things, ready with an answer even in the most unexpected situations.

Except when it came to you.

The boy knew of your crush on him, you have been chasing him for months relentlessly, but he just couldn’t figure you out. Why him, why then and certainly why you always got him in trouble. He didn’t want to think of you, he wanted you to be the last person to think of, but your continuous presence around him made you become the main focus of his attention and it riled him up. An infuriating feeling bubbled deep inside him each time you occupied his thoughts.

You didn’t cause trouble on purpose though, it just seemed to happen, but you used the opportunity wisely, to spend time with Oliver even if it was in detention. Whilst it annoyed him, you enjoyed each and every moment you could spend with him.

He groaned as he wrote down a part of the school policy for the 53rd times. He was angry about being in detention again, especially because of the scolding he received from McGonagall. The professor was rather unhappy that the captain of her house’s quidditch team once again found himself in trouble and she wasn’t afraid of telling the boy off in front of the whole school, embarrassing him.

“Are you done?” You asked, abruptly pulling Oliver out of his thoughts.

“Would you mind not talking to me?” He asked with gritted teeth.

“It’s your fault that we are here this time.” You shrugged and put your legs up on the table as you leaned back against the chair, your skirt sliding up on your thighs. His head shot up, his eyes ready to murder you or at least to try, before they wandered to the exposed skin on your legs. You could just see the slight flicker of fire in his eyes and no one could convince you that the boy didn’t feel something for you.

Oliver visibly shook his head, his eyes becoming firm again. “And how is this my fault?” He asked with a warning tone.

“If you gave into my advances before, we wouldn’t be here now. I wouldn’t have to chase after you, I wouldn’t have to keep telling you that I fancied you, and you wouldn’t get so pissed off about it that you break McGonagall’s window.” You wiggled your brows with a playful smirk.

“It was not my fault.” He raised his voice. “I’m your captain, you should listen to me, but you are the only person who always goes against me. You are driving me insane. If you did what I told you to do, things wouldn’t have spiralled out of control.” He huffed.

“As I said, if you accepted my date offer, none of the detentions would have happened.” You replied nonchalantly.

“Honestly, can’t you just stop? I have never fancied you, nor will I ever fancy you.” He spoke firmly, which made you chuckle. You stood up from your spot and walked in front of his table, bending over it, leaning on his notes with your forearm, your eyes lining up with him.

You could clearly see his adam’s apple nervously moving, his breath hitching for a second from the proximity you created. “How long are you going to keep lying to yourself?” You raised a brow questioningly. “I would have given up long ago if I didn’t see the changes in you. Back when I first confessed, you just ignored me, but it’s not the case anymore. I rile you up so easily, you can’t get me out of your head. Whenever I’m around you, it makes you nervous and when I touch you- I can see the goosebumps appear on your skin.” You whispered against his lips as you leaned forward, caressing his forearm, your own heart speeding up as you could feel him in your grasp already. His eyes wandered to your lips, watching as you bit on your lower lip.

But he quickly composed himself. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He spoke firmly, but he couldn’t fool you. You have studied each and every expression and little movement, his whole body language eagerly.

“We will see about that.” You replied with a cheeky smirk as you leaned back and walked to your table. You had 3 more weeks before Christmas break to get the boy and you were determined to do so.

Days passed by and Oliver was just exhausted from your constant nagging. Or so he kept saying. But you knew he didn’t mind it as much as he tried to tell others. You thought maybe he was just embarrassed that a girl was chasing after him, instead of letting him do the hunting. You thought maybe he was just inexperienced with girls, since you haven’t heard much about his love-life. You had many thoughts on why he didn’t want to give in to your advances, but him not having feelings for you was not one of them.

He sat in the Gryffindor common room with Fred and George on each side of his as they got lost in their conversation. You sat in an armchair in a corner with your friends, watching Oliver’s wide back and broad shoulders under the uniform. You were ignoring your friend’s chattering, the boy stole your attention without his knowledge. Or so you thought.

His ears started growing redder, his cheeks taking on the same colour. He turned around, his eyes meeting yours as you offered him a playful grin. He rolled his eyes and turned away, his ears taking on an even darker shade. He was way too obviously affected by you for someone who was supposed to hate you which made your confidence grow.

You stood up from your chair and walked behind the couch the boy was seated on, halting right behind Oliver. Fred and George realised your presence, but as you placed your index finger in front of your lips to quiet them, they decided to play along. They continued the conversation with a cocky smirk across their face.

“You seem to be blushing, mate.” Fred chuckled loudly, which earned a slap on the back of his head from Oliver.

“Leave me alone with your nonsense. Why on earth would I be blushing?” He huffed in an annoyed tone.

“Well, maybe because a certain girl forgot her eyes on you?” He grinned playfully. You were glad that Fred brought you up in their conversation, letting you listen in on Oliver’s thoughts.

“And why would I care about that?” Oliver asked with a nonchalant shrug, his tone clearly bored of the subject matter.

“Maybe you are catching feelings?” George quipped in, wriggling his brows. “I mean, no one would blame you. Y/n is certainly a catch.” He nudged Oliver’s shoulder.

“Are you having a laugh?” He scoffed, his scottish accent growing thicker in frustration. “I can’t stand that woman. She is making my life miserable. I have never seen anyone being so stubborn. She is infuriating and if she wasn’t a woman, I would have probably hexed her already.” He hissed through his gritted teeth. “I don’t just have to deal with her when we have quidditch practice, no, she follows me like a pathetic little puppy.” He spit in anger. You could always ignore his harsh glares, his angered tone, his irritated, hurtful comments. You always thought he was being cold because he felt awkward around you, but hearing him talk about you with so much hatred opened your eyes. You felt your throat close up, your eyes stinging from the unshed tears. You felt like he was holding onto your heart and deliberately squeezed it to cause you pain.

“Wait-” George wanted to cut him off, but Oliver didn’t let him.

“No! I understand she likes me, but what she is doing is not normal. Borderline stalker, if you ask me. She doesn’t care about my feelings, she is simply trying to force herself onto me without my permission. She doesn’t care about privacy, she is basically following me around. And most of all, it doesn't matter how many times I tell her to leave me alone, I can’t get rid of her. She is like a leech.” He groaned, agitation clear in his voice.

Your chest felt as if a heavy weight fell on it, your lungs unable to expand, your throat closed off the air it craved so badly. You felt your eyes fill up, tears glistening in them. You watched from the side as Fred looked up at you with an apologetic look. You held back the tears and nodded to the boy, silently telling him that you were just fine, but you couldn’t stay any longer. You turned on your heels and rushed up the stairs, straight to your room.

“That was harsh, mate.” Fred scolded the boy, but you couldn’t hear. You loudly shut the door behind you and fell on top of your bed, tears sliding down your face, being swallowed by your duvet.

You always thought he was just playing hard to get. You weren’t stupid, you saw the changes in him, you saw the way he blushed, the way you caught him staring at you when noone else was looking, but after all that you heard, you could only think of how pathetic you were.

You groaned in frustration, rubbing your eyes to get rid of the never-ending tears. You were disgusted of yourself, of the time you spent chasing him. Going after him for months, feeling as if you have made progress, openly showing your interest in him made you feel like a fool and now everyone knew how pathetic your crush on Oliver Wood was.

You hated yourself!

You hated him!

You have cried for days, your eyes were bloodshot, your cheeks swollen. You weren’t just upset about your situation, you have walked around like a bomb ready to explode, picking fights with anyone who got in your way. But by the end of the week you were just tired. Whilst Oliver’s words still hurt, you understood getting him in trouble wasn’t the best option to spend time with him, and you were smart enough to know that people didn’t always like those who they were liked by. You knew now that Oliver didn’t like you, you understood, but it was certainly not easy to see him all the time whilst trying to get over him.

You spent your time watching the boy from a distance, hurting yourself even more, but even if you tried harder, you just couldn’t get yourself to look away. Sometimes you caught his eyes as he turned to you, but you quickly turned away, pretending to focus on something very important in the distance. You didn’t want to feel like a fool, who even after being hated so openly, still ran after her crush.

You started off each day with a pep talk, preparing yourself for his presence. You couldn’t avoid him, you had classes together, you played in the same quidditch team, you were part of the same Hogwarts house, living in the very same Gryffindor tower.

Days passed painfully slowly as you kept forcing your gaze away from him, trying to concentrate on anything but his chiselled jawline, broad shoulders and cheeky grin across his face. It was a hard task, but you didn’t want to feel pathetic anymore, you had to work on getting over him and the best way to do it was to get your brain busy with anything, but him.

You walked towards your Transfiguration class, when a hand landed on your shoulder, stopping your steps. You turned around, your brows running high, your lips parting in surprise.

“Can I talk to you?” Oliver asked as he let go of your shoulder. You frowned at the boy, knowing how happy he must be to get rid of you. Though you were happy to see him, it also hurt in the worst possible way. Was he ready to laugh at you? He was finally free of you, he had no business with you.

“What for? If it’s about quidditch, you can talk to me at practice.” You spoke firmly. You didn’t mean to be rude, you knew people didn’t choose who they liked and Oliver was no exception. He couldn’t force himself to like you, nor could you force him to. Though you weren’t kind to him, the stern stance you took on was to protect your composed self.

“I’m sorry.” He breathed, his head falling forward, his gaze fixed on the ground. You frowned at the boy, unable to understand his apology.

“What are you sorry for?” You asked in confusion.

“You have been avoiding me and I didn’t understand why. George finally told me that you overheard what I said.” He explained.

You scoffed at his reply, your eyes wandering around the corridor, all sorts of angry thoughts running around in your head. Of course, now he was sorry, you thought. “Are you sorry because I heard what you said or because you said it?” You raised a questioning brow, a sceptical look spread across your face.

“Both.” He finally lifted his head to connect his deep brown eyes with yours. “I’m sorry that you heard what I said, but I shouldn’t have said it in the first place.” You knew he meant it, he was being genuine. You knew him way too well to know when he was lying and when he was telling the truth. “It was insensitive of me and honestly I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to look for excuses, but I was pissed off and the words just came out of my mouth. I really am very sorry.” It was the first time that he was standing in front of you without a hurtful word to say or an annoyed expression across his handsome face. For the first time you stood in front of him without confessing your love for him and chasing after the boy who never wanted you.

You took a deep breath, processing his words. “Your words hurt, you know?” You asked, looking into his eyes. He nodded in confirmation with an apologetic look across his face. “I guess I didn’t handle this whole situation well either. I was annoyingly stubborn.” A tiny smile was hiding in the corner of your lips as you reached for his hand to shake it. “I guess we are even. Both of us did some stupid things.” He looked down at your hand, before a smile appeared across his face and happily accepted your gesture. “I have class now, but I will see you at practice.” You said and without a second thought you left Oliver behind, heading to your class.

You didn’t plan on communicating with him more nor did you want to become friends with him, you were nowhere near getting over him. But you were glad he felt sorry and you were certainly happy that in the end, he didn’t hate you after all.

You were seated on your broom at the quidditch pitch, waiting for instructions from Oliver. To avoid any unnecessary conflicts, you tried to interact with him less in classes and at practice. Whilst you weren’t hated by him, you knew you had to keep him at arm’s length to be able to get over him.

You put a lock on your lips and when you were told to do something, you nodded diligently and did it. From a loud and opinionated person, you have become a ghost of yourself. You haven’t rebelled anymore nor did you get into arguments with the captain. It was just quiet and peaceful. Too peaceful to those around you who knew you well.

As practice finally finished, you landed on the quidditch pitch and hurried to the changing room.

“Y/n!” You heard Angelina from behind. You halted, waiting for her to arrive next to you, before you both headed to the changing room. “Are you okay?” She asked with a worried look.

“Of course.” You smiled, trying to shoo her worries away.

“You haven’t really been yourself recently.” She said and you didn’t need to ask to understand what she actually meant. Whilst it hurt you to distance yourself from Oliver, you didn’t want to seem any more pathetic than they already thought you were.

“I’m fine, Angie.” You placed a hand on her shoulder squeezing it reassuringly. Although the movement was more to give yourself some strength, to overcome the following 2 weeks before the break.

The castle was already decorated for Christmas, floating candles flying around the corridors, fake snow falling from the ceiling before they disappeared abruptly. Tiny Christmas trees decorated every corridor, a gigantic tree standing proudly at the Great hall in all its glory.

As you finished dressing and headed out of the changing room Angie called after you to wait for her. You looked back to give her a nod, completely missing the person standing in front of you as you accidentally walked into his back.

“Sorry.” You apologised, rubbing your forehead as Oliver turned around and shook his head. You wanted to move past him to leave, but your legs froze on the spot. Your eyes studied his handsome features eagerly. It’s been days since you actually looked at the boy, without trying to forget how good looking he was. His brown eyes scanned your face, before connecting them to yours. It’s been a while since you looked into each other’s eyes, let alone kept eye contact. You tried to force away the little scream in your head that was trying to convince you that he looked at you differently, that his eyes were warm and welcoming, not cold, hateful or apologetic anymore.

You heard a loud chuckle and as you turned your head you saw Fred pointing above you with a comical look. You lifted your head to see a mistletoe appear above you from the ceiling, leaving you gaping. Your eyes wandered back to Oliver who was still looking at the plant above him. You watched as his jaw tightened, the meaning of the mistletoe hitting him hard.

Whilst the randomly appearing mistletoes weren’t the professor’s inventions, nor were they approved by them, cunning students found a way around the rules and charmed the little buggers to appear in the most unexpected times.

Oliver’s eyes finally met yours, his lips parted in surprise as he realised what he was supposed to do. You prayed for whoever was up there to give you a chance. Just maybe a kiss on the cheek or even on the back of your hand, wrongfully getting your own hopes up.

But you were wrong.

The boy took a last look at you, his eyes holding an unknown expression as he turned on his heels and hurried out of the changing room with his steps disappearing faster than you have ever heard. You couldn’t deny the pain you felt, the suffocating feeling in your throat, your tears screaming to be able to escape. You cleared your throat and left the room, feeling the uncomfortable gazes on you. You couldn’t wait for Angelina, you needed to disappear. Once again you were the pathetic party, who longed after the boy who didn’t want you.

You just wanted the Christmas break to arrive already, you didn’t want to see him every single day anymore.

The last week before the holidays was going even slower, forcing you to be a shadow of your usually loud and confident self. You didn’t have energy to act as if you weren’t hurting. Teenage love is cruel, you feel it hundred times stronger and you don’t know how to cope with it. That was exactly how you felt. Unable to cope and hurting each time you caught sight of him.

You sat on one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room, the place empty and silent, two words you could hardly ever say about your part of Hogwarts. You watched the clock above the fireplace ticking. It was 3am, you were supposed to be asleep already, but you just couldn’t keep your eyes closed, your messy thoughts occupying your brain, insomnia laughing at you in the face.

You heard footsteps approaching, but you didn’t look up. You weren’t a prefect, you couldn’t care less about who walked around the castle at such late hours. You felt the couch sunk in beside you, but you didn’t move to look up at the arrival, nor did you care to know who it was. You were comfortable in the silence, your thoughts being your only friend.

“I’m sorry.” You heard his hoarse voice. You thought you heard it wrong, your head whipped around to look at him in shock as you realised his familiar voice.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, feeling slightly awkward after your last encounter in the changing room.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He shook his head, his eyes fixed on the fireplace. “I’m sorry.” He repeated himself again.

“For what this time?” You asked curiously. “You seem to enjoy apologising to me.” You chuckled lightly, making him smile as well, trying to lighten the mood.

“I don’t enjoy it to be honest. I wish I didn’t have to apologise.” He heaved a deep sigh. “I didn’t want to hurt you when I left you under the mistletoe. It’s just-“ you didn’t let him finish it, you cut straight into his sentence.

“Wait, wait, please don’t apologise for that. It’s nothing. I’m sure it was just Fred and George’s stupid prank and you don’t have to apologise for something like this. Look, it’s not like you cursed me or started a fight with me for no particular reason. It was just a silly little thing, you really shouldn’t feel the need to be sorry at all.” You kept rambling, your words leaving your lips without control, your mind in overdrive as you tried to feel less embarrassed but forced yourself into an even more awkward situation.

“Have you finished?” He asked with a raised brow and a slight smirk across his face.

“Yeah.” You breathed as you closed your eyes momentarily, heaving a deep sigh, planning to dig yourself a six feet deep hole to hide in until you graduated.

“I am apologising because I wanted to kiss you.” He confessed. Your eyes widened in surprise as you watched his profile, his jaw tightening in the dim light as he let out a sigh. “I can’t tell you what it is, I don’t exactly know how I feel, but I know I wanted to kiss you under that stupid mistletoe.” He turned to you finally, his brown eyes looking right into your soul, or that’s how you felt. You weren’t sure how to react. It made you happy that he wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t in the end. It made you feel warm and giddy that he felt something for you, but in the end, he wasn’t sure what. You didn’t know how to react to someone who didn’t know his own feelings.

“I am confusing you, aren’t I?” He asked with a small smile, which earned him a single nod from you. “I’m confusing myself too.” He scoffed as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. You didn’t dare to talk, fearing to ruin the moment, afraid of making a fool out of yourself.

Silence fell on the two of you, your heartbeat loud enough for you to hear it in your own ears. Oliver never made you nervous, it was you who chased after him all along, but for the first time, you felt as though your heart wanted to jump out of your throat, your lips dried out in nervousness and in your awkward state you didn’t even know where to put your hands.

You had a silly idea, one that you were scared to voice, so you decided to push it in the back of your mind and instead forced yourself to talk. “What do you feel? I mean, you said you can’t word it, but maybe you could describe it?” You asked as you watched the flames in the fireplace, your throat drying out in your nervous state. You felt his gaze on you, but you didn’t dare to look at him as you waited for him to reply.

“You know, you’re all I ever think about.” You turned towards the boy, your eyes wide in surprise. “At first it was because you annoyed me with your constant love confessions, but since you stopped, I don’t know why, but your face keeps appearing in my head.” He chuckled weakly. “When we are in the same room, I keep looking for your eyes, but recently you haven’t been returning it and it makes me feel heavy.” He scoffed at his own words. “I thought I wanted you to stop hanging around me, but now that you did, it drives me nuts that you are not there.” You wanted to jump up from the couch and throw your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, but you didn’t dare to move. It felt like you were in a dream and you were scared it would disappear the second you moved. “When we stood under that mistletoe, I really wanted to kiss you, but I was so confused and I just couldn’t do it. Since then I have been having a battle inside me.”

You gulped loudly as your silly idea from earlier returned, but after all you have heard from Oliver, you couldn’t keep it in any longer. “Maybe if you kissed me now, it would help.” You whispered, your eyes leaving him and focusing on the fireplace. You felt his intense gaze on you, but you didn’t dare to turn. You didn’t want to see his face if in case he decided to reject you again.

You felt him shuffle on the couch, soon the material sinking in right beside you. He placed a hand on your cheek, turning you towards him, his eyes studying you curiously. “Did you mean that?” He asked and you nodded in reply, his proximity not letting a word escape your lips. Your breath hitched as you felt him leaning closer, his lips gently grazing yours before connecting your lips.

You wanted to sigh into the kiss, his lips on yours feeling as if they were made to be for you, but the air was stuck in your lungs, fearing he would pull back. It was a slow kiss, both of you experiencing an unknown territory, studying each other’s movements, the sensation the kiss made you feel.

You pulled away for a long-awaited breath. His eyes were closed, but you could read his satisfied, content expression. A small smile spread across your face, feeling both confident and uncertain at the same time. Before you could have even said something or question his feelings, he pulled you back against his lips, kissing you hungrily, his usual confidence catching up with him.

You froze for a moment, but soon you kissed him back as passionately as you could, trying to force all your feelings in that one kiss. You ran your fingers through his short brown hair, scratching his scalp gently, earning a silent moan from him.

As he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. You watched his long lashes spread across his cheeks, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. “Did that help?” You whispered, which made him silently chuckle, earning a small smile from you.

“It certainly did.” He replied as he opened his eyes. “I don’t think I ever want to stop kissing you.” He confessed, your smile growing wider as you bit into your bottom lip.

“Noone says you have to.” You giggled as he pulled you back against his lips again, enjoying the feel of your mouth on his.

The night quickly washed away as you laid in each other’s arms on the couch, but you knew with the new day, you are on to a fresh start, a start where your unrequited love isn’t unrequited after all.

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nicknellie · 3 years

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@julie-n-phantoms requested: I saw this really cute idea once, about Willie having a whole bunch of different fun flavored chapsticks and making Alex guess what they were when they kissed. So maybe that, and Willie just keeps using it as an excuse to kiss Alex at the most random times and poor Alex keeps bluescreening?

This is so cute omg I love it! It ended up kind of short because I’m extremely tired and haven’t written Willex in a while, but I’m still very happy with how it turned out. Thank you for the request and sorry it’s taken me so long to get round to it, I hope you enjoy! Title from I Kissed a Girl by Katy Perry (ofc lmao).

The Taste of His Cherry Chapstick

Not for the first time, Alex found himself questioning exactly how the rules around ghosts worked. He had been a ghost for quite some time now and he kept thinking that he should really have these things figured out, but being dead was a lot trickier than it seemed. Alex could sit on chairs, but he could also walk right through them; he could change his clothes, but he still hadn’t figured out how his clothes became invisible to lifers just like he was; he didn’t have a body, but he could still get hurt (he had Caleb to thank for cluing him in on that one). He had long ago accepted that the rules of being a ghost would always be hazy and muddled and that sometimes he would just have to get on with it, but every now and then something would happen and it would totally stump him.

Like right now. Willie was putting chapstick on and Alex was simply could not wrap his head around it.

“Why do you need to do that?” he asked Willie, breaking the soft silence between them. They were sat in the studio on the sofa together, Willie with his legs casually crossed over Alex’s lap, lying back as he applied the chapstick.

Willie shrugged easily, popping the cap back on and slipping it into his pocket. (Pockets were another ghost thing Alex didn’t understand and he might have spiralled into that a little more if he hadn’t been so fixated on the chapstick.)

“Stops my lips getting chapped,” Willie said. “It’s kinda in the name.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Alex replied, “but you’re a ghost. Can your lips even get chapped?”

“Yeah, that’s why I bought the chapstick,” Willie explained, meeting Alex’s bewildered look with an amused smirk. “That and the fact that it’s a nice flavour. Do you want to test it?”

Alex shook his head violently. “Absolutely not. I don’t trust it. How can we still use it even when we’re dead? There are some things that should not cross the line between life and the afterlife, and this is one of them.”

Willie giggled. “Alex, it’s literally just chapstick.”

“I know that. I’m not using it.”

Willie rolled his eyes affectionately, but then the amused smirk he’d had on his face morphed into something much more mischievous. Alex knew that look – it meant Willie had got an idea and there was absolutely no way of telling whether or not it was a good one.

“Well,” Willie said slowly, sitting up and shuffling so that he could properly look Alex in the eye, “there’s more than one way you could try it out.”

“How?” Alex asked sceptically.

Willie’s only response was to lean forward, that devilishly cute little smirk still on his face, and press a sweet, chaste kiss to Alex’s lips. It took Alex by surprise and was over before he could even kiss Willie back as Willie pulled away with a soft, self-satisfied smile. Alex, meanwhile, was still struggling to process what had happened. It wasn’t like he and Willie had never kissed before, but the fact that he hadn’t been expecting it combined with how brief it was and how happy Willie looked to have solved the chapstick issue meant that his mind was lagging a little as it tried to catch up. It did not help that Willie was beaming at him, looking effortlessly adorable.

“So?” Willie prompted after Alex had been silently staring at him with his mouth open in shock for almost a minute. “What flavour do you think it is? Do you like it?”

Alex dragged his mind back down from where it had been launched into the heavens. He reminded himself that he was here, with Willie in the studio, that conversations only worked if both people were talking, that staring was rude, and that there had in fact been a point to the kiss. He cleared his throat, trying to school his features back to neutrality but knowing he failed when Willie giggled, and then licked his lips.

“Um… is it cherry?” he guessed. His mind was still a little foggy and more focused on the fact that Willie had kissed him rather than what flavour the chapstick was.

Willie grinned, digging the chapstick out of his pocket again and showing Alex the label on the tube. “Yeah, man! You’re right, great job!”

As Willie settled back into his original position with his legs kicked over Alex’s lap, Alex pushed his momentary panic out of his mind and tried to be normal again. He had thought it would be a one-off, that one kiss and his one guess, and that would be the end of it. But apparently, Willie had other ideas because it just kept happening over and over again.

The second time it happened was in the middle of the night. Willie had got the bright idea of going to the museum at midnight to see all the art and exhibits in the dark. It had turned out to be an amazing idea – the low light gave every painting and sculpture a completely different energy, some more sinister, others infinitely more sad, some seeming so different to how they were during the day that it would have been hard to tell they were the same piece of art at all. Alex followed Willie around the museum with an affectionate smile on his face the whole time, a loving warmth in his chest as he listened to Willie talk about all the art and what it meant and who made it. It was always endearing whenever Willie talked about art; his passion and enthusiasm and the way his face positively lit up was enough to make Alex fall in love a thousand times over.

It was going so well and Alex felt unbelievably lucky that he got to be the one there with Willie. But then Willie stopped talking for a moment and Alex watched him reach into his pocket and pull out his chapstick. He couldn’t help the way his mind wandered to the last time this had happened, when Willie had pressed that one gentle kiss to his lips and backed away. When he saw Willie’s eyes light up, he knew he was thinking of the same thing.

“Want to try?” Willie asked. It was an innocent enough question, but they both heard the implication behind it – Willie was asking for another kiss.

Alex loved kissing Willie, but it still made him nervous every time, mostly because he couldn’t believe someone as incredible as Willie would actually want to kiss him. So momentarily, his nerves caught up with him and he couldn’t reply to Willie, not with words at least. He gave a quick nod before swallowing his nerves and cupping Willie’s jaw to pull him into a kiss.

He made sure this one lasted longer than the other, but it still wasn’t more than a few seconds. Alex tried not to pout when Willie pulled away, but smiled to himself when Willie rested their foreheads together.

“What flavour do you think it was?” Willie asked quietly.

Oh yeah, that was what Alex was meant to be figuring out. Well, he didn’t think he could really be blamed for forgetting that detail when just a moment ago he’d been kissing the love of his afterlife. Again, his mind took a ridiculous amount of time to get past the excitement and giddiness of the kiss and actually focus on the question he’d been asked.

“Is that cola?” he asked after a minute or two.

Willie dropped a feather-light kiss to the tip of Alex’s nose (and Alex was not too proud to admit it made him go slightly weak in the knees) and then pulled back with a smile. “You’re two for two. You’re getting good at this game, hotdog.”

“We’ll have to keep playing so I can get even better,” Alex replied. It might have been smooth if not for the fact that he was blushing so profusely that he could literally feel the heat in his face, and his voice was a little pitchy with a cruel mixture of nerves and the awkwardness that came with not being very good at flirting.

Willie didn’t mention it though. He just smiled softly, squeezed Alex’s hand, and said in a low voice, “Oh, we’re definitely going to keep playing.”

The third time it happened, Alex wasn’t expecting it at all. Half because they weren’t alone, and half because he hadn’t seen Willie put the chapstick on.

Julie and the Phantoms had just wrapped up a gig. Flynn had hired them to play at her birthday party (well, less ‘hired them’ and more the fact that the boys had wanted to give her a birthday present but they were all ghosts which made things like that very difficult, so they and Julie had offered to provide live music at her party instead) and it had gone brilliantly. Not only was the crowd enormous because Flynn had invited practically the whole school – which meant the band would get tons of exposure – but they had clearly been loving the music too. They were easily the best crowd the band had ever played too.

But maybe Alex was biased – he tended to say every crowd was the best crowd just as long as Willie was in it.

Willie and Flynn hadn’t actually met because they were yet to find a way of making Willie visible to lifers, but Flynn had heard enough stories about “Alex’s super cool skateboarder ghost boyfriend” to know that he could be counted as a friend, so he had been invited. As always, Alex had sought him out in the crowd and played like he was only playing to Willie. That was always when he performed his best.

When they finally finished their set and headed into the makeshift backstage area (which was really just Flynn’s bedroom), Alex barely had time to register what was going on as Willie came running into the room, grabbed Alex’s face and pressed a hard kiss to his lips. Alex distantly registered a few cheers from his friends, but he was too distracted to bother telling them off. All that mattered was the fact that Willie was kissing him and it was even more of a rush than the performance had been.

When they finally pulled away, Willie breathed, “You killed it up there! I swear, I’ll never get tired of hearing you guys play. I’m proud of you.”

“If you’re proud of all of us then how come only Alex gets a kiss?” Luke asked. Alex knew that he was joking, but he still bundled Willie up protectively in his arms, ignoring the way that just elicited laughter and ‘awwww’s from his friends.

“You liked it, then?” Alex asked quietly. He knew Willie always loved their performances, but it always felt amazing to hear it.

“I loved it, just like I love you,” Willie whispered back. Alex melted a little. “Did you like it?”

“Like what?” Alex asked. “The performance?”

“No,” Willie said, that sly smirk back on his face. Suddenly Alex realised what was going on, how he’d been caught off-guard. “My chapstick. Did you like the flavour?”

This one was totally unfair. Alex hadn’t know he was supposed to be thinking about the chapstick. He’d been so caught up in Willie that it had been the very last thing on his mind. Briefly, he entertained the idea of kissing Willie again to try and get another taste, but he knew if he did that he probably wouldn’t be able to stop and he wasn’t so keen to do that while his friends were still in the room, even if they weren’t paying attention anymore.

“That’s cheating!” he said. “I didn’t know we were playing.”

“You’ve gotta guess, hotdog,” Willie returned with a laugh, “those are the rules.”

“You never told me there were rules.”

“You never asked.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” he admitted reluctantly. “Was it… I don’t know. Blueberry?”

“Not even close,” Willie said. He pressed another kiss to Alex’s lips and pulled away before Alex could lose himself in it, which was disappointing but probably a good thing.

He tasted it this time, doing his best to focus on it, but it was very difficult with Willie so close and so cute. Still, the proud smile he got from Willie when he finally guessed watermelon made his restraint and effort completely worthwhile.

From then on, he learned to expect it. To look forward to it too. He went shopping with Willie to buy new multipacks of fun flavours (though shopping was another weird thing as a ghost because even though they left money on the counter it felt a lot more like shoplifting) and they continued their guessing game for months and months. But truth be told, it had started to feel less like a game and more just an excuse to kiss each other. It took another month or two for Alex to realise that had probably been Willie’s plan all along anyway – when he asked Willie about it, the laughter he was met with was more than enough answer.

But he wasn’t complaining. He got to kiss his boyfriend all he wanted, and neither of them ever got chapped lips.

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lovextriangle · 3 years

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Imagine Thorin before The Unexpected Journey

a/n: early release draft, I’ll probably edit more later!

You were never one to fall for the brooding type, but there was no stopping for the inevitable.

The dwarves showed up out of nowhere. They were passing through Gondor on their way to Dunland where Thror, Thrain, and Thorin had decided that place was their best option. Many of their following had dwindled, most headed for the Blue Mountains or the Iron Hills. Dunland was a place of no importance, it was just a place for them to seek refuge. They had no plans of staying there, for the true goal was to take back their home, Erebor. Though a plan like that already had people grimacing for the bloodshed was still fresh and the loss was many. How could they overcome a beast that had defeated them so easily on their own home front.

They needed allies, they needed help, not from men, and definitely not from the elves, but from their own people, dwarves assisting other dwarves. That is what Thorin thought anyways. But with supplies running low and spirits at an all time downward spiral, they would have to start from the ground up.

About a month after the traveling dwarves had passed through Gondor and finally settled into the neighboring Dunland, Thorin seeked out work. The big city was the best place to look for it, though no one cared about the tragedies a person had been through, if you had no talent or skill, you wouldn’t find a job. Luckily dwarves were brimming with skills and their expertise was known for crafting weapons. The grandson of the King Under the Mountain, became a blacksmith of Gondor for the sake of putting food on the table. He had a perpetual frown on his face as if it was engraved there permanently.

He had all the reason to be, rumors spread fast in Gondor of what had happened to the dwarves and the almighty Smuag, the terror of their lifetime. Everyone was afraid of what the dragon would do next. Most thought that the dwarves would bring it with them somehow, as if they carried bad luck. So Thorin was well aware of how much the people of Gondor didn’t want him there. He wasn’t wanted anywhere. But the skills he possessed as a smith kept his employer from kicking him to the curb like others had done before.

“Another fine piece of weaponry Thorin. The next order is a pair of long swords,” grunted Izec the chief blacksmith of the establishment that Thorin worked for. Sweat ran down Thorin’s forehead as he leaned back to stretch out from the hammering position he had been in. His back ached, he had been finishing up the fine details of his last assignment, the entirety had taken three days, the last five hours he had just completed. He was tired and in need of a break. But Thorin liked pushing himself past that point nowadays. He didn’t really care much about his body at all, he was angry all the time, and it felt good to hammer down something that would bend to his will. If only other things in his life went that way…

“Take a lunch and be back before long, ya hear?”

Thorin only gave a nod as he wiped the sweat from his hands onto his pants as he took his leave from the shop. It was midday in Gondor and people were everywhere. The weather was hot and stuffy, no summer time breeze in the air, Thorin guessed it was just his luck. He had eaten at a couple of stands in the past, the food men served were at least better than elves but it was nothing like home. Weaving through the crowds, he ignored the glances he got, it wasn’t exactly rare to see a dwarf in Gondor but this was definitely the birthplace of men.

He hadn’t been to this particular meal stand before, he was complacent enough to try it since the others hadn’t left a lasting impression for him to seek them out. He just wanted a good, quick meal to regain his strength and head back to work.

“What’ll it be?” Thorin had to take a slight step back to take in the whole menu. “Roast will do.” His response was a curt reply, quick and ready to move on. “7 shillings,” you matched his reply, not really wanting to drag out the conversation either. This was only business after all. Out came a pouch from one of his pockets as he gathered the correct amount. You hadn’t exactly been looking directly into his eyes, just glancing over everything else about him.

He was dirty, a hard working dwarf. Long dark hair, that was thick but not matted. He took care of himself or at least his hair. His cheeks had what looked like dirt or maybe ash from a fire. Dwarves were usually blacksmiths around here so you took an educated guess. “You work with Izec?” you hadn’t intended to ask out loud but it seemed you couldn’t help yourself. There was a reason for asking after all.

Thorin met your gaze, ice cold irises told you one thing. That he wanted his meal and to be left alone. “Yes.” The one word reply, a clear warning to not ask anymore questions. “I’ve placed an order for a piece of metal myself..” it was a low response from you as you had gauged his reaction. He didn’t seem curious or to care about the details of what you had ordered at Izec’s. With that you gave him his meal and he gave you the shillings.

“Thanks.” He was gone, not stopping at any of the nearby tables set up to sit and eat. You watched as he parted ways, and wondered if he would come to your stand another day. Such cold eyes, you had the feeling he wouldn’t. Lunch hour was busy, and more customers took up your thoughts and as soon as the dwarf had came he disappeared from your mind.

A week passed before Thorin decided he had a particular craving. He had thoroughly enjoyed the roast from last time, and had wanted to stop by again. He had lasted a week only because he did not wish to be remembered, he simply wanted the good food and nothing more. Chitchat could wait until after he had reclaimed Erebor. But Thorin found that you simply couldn’t just hand him over the meal without at least one question being asked.

“How’s work?”

“What’s it like being a smith?”

“What do you think of Gondor?”

“You must really like roast, would you like to try our roasted chicken?”

No matter the angry stares or the frustrated sighs, Thorin would respond begrudgingly to each question. He liked the chicken now too, and from the four more times he had stopped by (on different days of course) it was quite apparent that this was his favorite food stand now. Because of the appetizing meals. Not because of your curious brown gaze. Our the sprinkle of freckles that were cast across your face. You had steady hands too, careful in passing and gentle in receiving. The few times your fingers had touched when he had exchanged his money had given him surprising chills. Your touch was quite cold and felt foreign from his hot temperatures.

It was getting a little easier to talk with one another. But Thorin didn’t make it to where it was ever a fluent conversation. He was only here for one thing after all. “Do you eat at Izec’s?” You decided to use up your one question on that this time. If you had counted right this would be your fifteen encounter and you still hadn’t caught his name, they just had so many other interesting things to know first, but you were getting pretty curious about that particular piece of info.

“Yes.” Thorin nodded, and the exchanged of meal for money transpired. You decided you weren’t satisfied, “Well isn’t it a bit stuffy to eat in there?” Thorin had taken one step away, “Sometimes” he agreed, not very happy that this was turning into more than the one usual question. “Well you could eat by the stand.. I give out complementary bread to my customers who do.” This was a lie, but maybe some enticing fresh bread would make him stay a little longer. “Maybe next time…” He wasn’t buying it, or maybe he wasn’t that hungry, or maybe he didn’t want to answer anymore questions. Whatever the reason, he was gone before you could talk him into it further.

Your sigh was obvious as it was loud.

“Maybe he’s just not into ya”

Your eyes immediately rolled, “Can it Howser.” The neighboring stand was a flower seller. He sold beautiful orchids when in season. But he was terribly nosy. “Well I’m just sayin, he’s only ever given you one-worded responses. Can’t get much dryer than that!” He laughed to himself at your misery. It was true you were getting nowhere in the sense of progress. Progress in what exactly? You weren’t entirely sure, maybe you could admit you had a crush on the recluse dwarf. “Any ideas then? I’ve tried to point out at least my interest,” you glumly stated, not wanting this to turn into some laughing stock at your failures.

“How about giving up?” Howser laughed, and the laughingstock it was. You glared at him as he tried to choke back his giggling. “Thanks.” You answered sarcastically and stopped paying attention to him, to which he tried to offer real advice but was left to be ignored.

Maybe giving up would become an option if the dwarf never came back. But he did come back, and it no longer took a week in between his visits. It was more frequent which had him occupying your thoughts more than the usual. The only thing that didn’t change was how uninterested he seemed in you. Which had Howser teasing you as soon as the dwarf departed. The game of chase felt like forever until that one fateful day.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, the sun taking its course to the west. It was unusual for the dwarf to come so late and even more unusual for him to be carrying a package. “What’s th-“ Your words were cut off with the thud of the item being placed on your counter. “Your order.” Thorin replied, already knowing the answer to the unfinished question. Izec was well acquainted with most in Gondor, which made him a good businessman. But once Thorin had told him about your stand and how good the food was, it was now tasked to him to deliver the finished product.

“Thank you for bringing them, you didn’t have to,” Thorin didn’t say anything as he had been told to do so it wasn’t like he was doing you a favor. With the silence, you decided to tear the parcel excited to see the results. Two beautifully slender long swords were revealed to you. Your breath was sucked in as you saw the fine lines and detailed swirls,

“Is it to your liking?”

This was the first question, he had ever asked to you. Just that had your heart rate accelerating. You assumed he had not only brought it to you, but had been the one to create such refinery. “It is, absolutely.” You beamed and he nodded, “To what name can I thank for such hard work?” You figured now was as good as anytime to finally ask the burning question. He was a mystery man, a stranger with no name, and you couldn’t continue to go on like such.

“Thorin.” He answered and had thought to himself that you had already known since most in Gondor knew from the rumors. “Thank you Thorin, I will treasure them.” He was never one for smiles, but somehow you knew he was at least proud of his work, and satisfied in knowing that you would be the one the wield them. You were positively optimistic in thinking that things would only get better with the two of you from here as he walked away. You let him go with no questions trailing him. With his back turned he held up his hand in departure, you couldn’t hold back your grin.

“Until next time,”

#the hobbit #jrr tolkien #there and back again #dwarves #dwarf #thorin imagine #thorin x you #thorin fic #thorin oakenshield #erebor #hobbit fanfiction #fan fic #imagine

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prfctethereal · 3 years

Text

bad idea. | remus lupin

thank u, next x marauders

alexa, play bad idea by ariana grande

pairing: remus lupin x reader (rivals to lovers)

summary: you and remus are rivals. after james and sirius find out about your fear of werewolves, they use it to exploit you, and help remus

word count: 4,393 (i'm sorry)

warnings: violence, language, mentions of trauma

a/n: haven't worked on this series in a while but whatever lol. this piece took my like two months from when I first started it because I kept changing it but oh well, enjoy - kennedy

***

Nothing felt better than being top in the class academically. Seeing the perfectly round ‘O’ at the top of a paper after getting it back was one of the few things that made me truly happy and proud of myself. I always thought that getting all these excellent marks would place me first place in my class, but I guess I was wrong. Unfortunately, I wasn’t first place. I was first equal.

Remus Lupin: the only person who could give me a run for my money. Every day in class was a battle to see who would win the unspoken competition. Subtle glances, snide comments, rolling eyes, you name it. It was even harder with the fact that Remus was a lot of the time my work partner as most teachers had the same idea of pairing up their brightest students.

I didn’t necessarily hate the guy. There was just something in my guts that made me nervous around him, something disguised as a disliking. He was just too friendly, it didn’t make sense why out of everyone, he didn’t like me.

***

Another day, another frustration. Potions class had started and it was brewing day. The classroom was stuffy, making it hard to breathe through my tightly collared shirt. My hair was pulled off my face as I tried desperately to cut up fluxweed into manageable. The swimming fumes of the half done potion was flooding my senses and making it hard to see or perceive anything that was going on. It was roulette for the cutting knife and my finger.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Remus muttered under his breath, bringing his attention to how I was preparing the ingredients. Huffing, he pulled the cutting board towards his side of the work bench and held out his hand, asking for the knife silently.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” I scowled, reluctantly handing over the knife to the rough looking boy. My eyes lingered a little too long over his delicate skin, mentally tracing each and every one of his mysterious scars, until my thoughts were cut still by Remus shoving the cut weeds in front of me.

“I hope you know how to put them in the cauldron.” There was a hint of cheek in his comment which I glossed over, poking my tongue out of my mouth and turning away from him, doing what he said. One by one, I carefully dropped the fluxweed into the bubbling concoction.

Grabbing my wand, I mixed the potion, watching Remus out of the corner of my eye. He seemed fixed and concentrated on cutting the leeches up, ignoring my presence completely. It wasn’t unusual to get the cold shoulder from my potions partner, but somehow, it still hurt like the very first time.

“Add these in now.” Remus commanded nonchalantly, pushing the cut up leeches onto the bench for me. Rolling my eyes, I brought my forefinger and thumb to the nearest leech and picked it up, feeling the grimy texture on my skin. All of a sudden, I felt a burst on pain ripple through my finger, my vocal chords letting out a loud yelp, as the leech’s teeth bit deep into my forefinger. Looking down, a thick line of blood was dripping down my finger, the leech still connected to my skin.

“Are you okay?” Remus must’ve heard my cry and immediately turned to me. He brought his hands to mine, gently cradling my bleeding wound. There must’ve been some poison in the leech’s venom as my finger started to discolour and turn a worrying shade of black. Even my head was feeling lightheaded. Trying to keep my balance, I placed my nondominant hand on the workbench to help keep me up, but it failed, falling into Remus’ arms.

“No.” I croaked out, the pain almost unbearable now. The veins on my hand were red and livid, with a dark, black bruise circling the bite mark. The leech was removed from my finger, probably by Remus, and my wound was on clear display. To top it all off, blood must’ve dropped into the ongoing potion as it was hissing angrily, turning a deep purple, not the soft yellow colour that it should’ve been. “You said you cut all the leeches. Why was that bloody thing alive?”

“I’m sorry.” Remus helped to sit me down on a chair but I was failing to keep my weight on my feet, toppling over at the slightest change in balance. My head was swarming with pain and white splotches danced in the corners of my vision. “I thought I cut them all. I didn’t realise I had missed any.”

By now, Professor Slughorn had come to see what the commotion was all about and had seen me barely conscious on a stool. He was trying to communicate but all I was focused on was the infection spreading up my hand. All the veins on my hand were now brick red, throbbing desperately. Shooting tendrils of pain were spiraling up my arm; a one way track to my heart and lungs. The only thing keeping my tethered to reality was Remus’ tight hold on my body, keeping me up right and conscious.

“Take her to the infirmary.” I could just make out what Professor Slughorn was saying by the way his lips moved and the vague sounds coming from his mouth. My lips involuntarily squinted as I felt myself being hoisted up and forced to walk out of the classroom, Remus’ tight grip around my waist never faltering.

He seemed desperate to keep a conversation with me going, talking to me the entire way to the hospital wing, trying to keep me from passing out. We were just about halfway there when my feet got caught up in the ground and my eyes succumbed to the white light ebbing my vision. My eyes rolled back into my head as I passed out in Remus’ arms.

***

“She just passed out?” Sirius asked, almost incredulous as Remus retold his encounter with Y/N from earlier in the day.

The four marauders were sitting in the grand hall, slowly munching away at their lunch. Guiltily, Remus took small bites, feeling remorseful as he knew Y/N wouldn’t be able to spend her lunchtime in the grand hall too. She was still in the hospital wing being treated for something Remus did.

“Flabbergasted leech! I forgot that they were deadly venomous. I should’ve been more careful when cutting them up.” Remus stabbed angrily at his salad, twirling his fork in exhaustion, his eyes never looking up to meet his friends.

“It’s not your fault, mate,” James tried stepping in to calm him down, placing his hand on Remus’ shoulder in a calculated manner. “Anyway, I thought you hated her.”

Remus scoffed, taking a bite out of a stray lettuce leaf. “I don’t hate her. She just gets on my nerves. Always trying to get top in the class. I don’t even care about being top, it just pisses me off that she tries so much.”

“But why?” Peter shrugged, a confused look on his face as Remus pondered the question.

In all honesty, Remus had no idea why he had such a negative attitude towards Y/N. Something about her always riled him up in a way he never expected. He just had to get on her nerves and annoy her. It was like he craved to come out better than her.

“I don’t know. I just really want to knock her down a peg. I’m not sure if it’s the full moon talking but I just want to annoy her in some shape or form, y’know?”

“Let’s prank her. Rile her up a bit.” Sirius suggested playfully, poking Remus with the fork in his hand, prodding at the thinking boy.

“Maybe. She’s already pretty pissed at me because of the leech situation. I don’t want to get her even more annoyed.” Remus looked quickly between the three other boys, who already seemed encapsulated in another conversation. “Whatever, I don’t care. Prank her if you want. After the full moon tonight though.”

Sirius’ face lit up with delight when he heard those words fall from Remus’ lips. “Alright! That’s more like it.”

Clapping Remus on the back, James nodded eagerly, mischievous looks bouncing between the three of them. Remus couldn’t care less. All he could think about was if Y/N was okay.

***

Stumbling through the halls, I managed to find my way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. I had just been discharged from the hospital wing, with Madame Pomfrey advising me to stay longer. I left though; I hated missing class. Also, Professor Merrythought said that it was going to be a practical lesson today and I didn’t want to miss it.

Apparently, there was still a little bit of poison left in my bloodstream, but according to Madame Pomfrey, it would be all out of my system by tomorrow morning. I just had to be careful that I didn’t injure myself anymore.

Standing outside the door, I swiftly knocked and entered the classroom. I wasn’t entirely late; class had only started ten minutes ago. Everyone seemed to be crowded on one end of the classroom, so I easily blended in with the group of students. Without acknowledgement, Professor Merrythought continued on with her lesson, only a slight look in my direction to tell that she was aware that I had shown up.

“Can anyone tell me what is in this wardrobe?” Professor Merrythought asked the class. Annoyed, I realised that I couldn’t answer the question as I hadn’t been there for the start of the class and had missed all the introduction. Scowling, I noticed Remus’ hand shoot up in the air. “Yes, Mr Lupin?”

“It’s a boggart.” Remus started, blissfully unaware that I had arrived in class. “A boggart doesn’t have a permanent form and takes the shape of what fears you most. No one knows what it looks like when it isn’t in the form of a fear.” He finished smuggly, a cocky grin smothered all over his face. Unknowingly to him, he had forgotten a crucial detail.

When Remus finished his monologue, I raised my hand up from behind him, a sly smile also on my face. Professor Merrythought caught my hand with her eye and nodded sweetly at me. “Yes, Miss L/N?”

Remus spun around. His brows were knitted together and he looked annoyed, that cheeky grin wiped off his face. Winking at him discreetly, I continued with what I was going to say. “The incantation to eradicate the boggart is Riddikulus, though it won’t banish the boggart indefinitely; only disarm it temporarily. While saying the charm, you must think of an element of fun as the only thing to get rid of a boggart is to get rid of the fear itself.”

“Exactly.” Professor Merrythought began addressing the class. “Now, I would like you all to go off and practise saying the charm for ten minutes. Then we can reconvene and practise on the actual boggart.”

Leaving the group of students, I went off to a quiet corner, muttering “riddikulus” over and over under my breath. Pointing my wand and waving it with the right hand motion, I practised the charm, until I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, waking me from my daze.

“Remarkable work, L/N. I see hospital life wasn’t treating you too well? You’re back sooner than I expected.” Remus quipped, obviously trying to start a quarrel with me.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to miss a lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts, would I? Then I wouldn’t get to see your darling face.” I replied sarcastically, a fake sickly sweet undertone in my voice.

“You’ve seemed to mistake my friendliness as infatuation. I must change my attitude towards you immediately.” His voice was trying to come out dauntingly, but it was quite cute.

“You’ve must’ve interpreted my words incorrectly. You see, it wasn’t my longing for you that made me turn up to class. It was actually because I didn’t want your ego to get too big, thinking you were the top student. I came to class to put you in your place.”

The sternness in his face seemed to let go as he noticed how serious my tone was. I admit, it was quite harsh but I didn’t care now. My message went across loud and clear. Unfortunately, our conversation was interrupted by Professor Merrythought calling us students back to the wardrobe.

“So,” Remus said, starting a conversation, “what’s your biggest fear?”

I chuckled slightly, turning to look at Remus’ genuine face. “Honestly, I have no idea. I wouldn’t know where to start when thinking about my fears. Maybe failure? I’m not sure.” I let the vulnerability fall from my lips, forgetting that it was my biggest rival that I was talking to. “What about you?”

“Same. Haven’t a clue.” Remus said as we arrived at the group. Remus walked slightly away from me, back towards his group of friends, so I walked up to some nice Ravenclaw girls that I had always gotten along with and listened to Professor Merrythought speak.

“Alright kids, I’d like for you to make a single file line. Miss L/N, Mr Lupin, since you two have the most knowledge already about boggarts, can you please start off today?”

Nodding, I walked to the front of the line, Remus getting in behind me. Behind us, the rest of our class formed a line, ready to get their hands on a boggart.

“Now, Miss L/N, what’s your biggest fear?”

Reiterating what I had said before, I informed Professor Merrythought that I had no idea what my boggart would turn into.

“Not to worry dear. You are very smart. Just, think of something funny, first thing that comes to mind. Now, I’ll open the wardrobe now,” Professor Merrythought walked closer to the wardrobe and placed her hand on the doorknob. “Are you ready?”

I nodded, my firm grip on my wand never wavering. As the wardrobe door swung open, the boggart emerged from the wardrobe in the form of a werewolf.

A werewolf?!

All of a sudden, memories start swarming in from my childhood. I started remembering all about the night where my younger brother was attacked by a werewolf, barely making it out alive. Tears started spilling from my eyes as my arms shook. As the werewolf darted forward, all I could remember was the night where our family was cornered. I had had nightmares for years afterwards. Subconsciously, I fell to the ground, unable to cope with the intense emotions anymore.

My head was feeling heavy and for the second time today, I felt like I was going to faint. It didn’t help that I still had poison in my veins, fogging my head from being able to think properly.

There was movement around me as I could vaguely hear Professor Merrythought say the incantation herself, putting the boggart back into the wardrobe. I was minutes away from collapsing onto the ground, the only thing keeping me up were two strong hands gripping onto my arms.

It became too much and for the second time that day, I fainted into Remus Lupin’s arms.

***

Sirius and James had watched what had happened in Defence Against the Dark Arts today, and they had taken notes. They had noted down how Y/N reacted to werewolves and a plan had formed collectively in their mind.

Tonight was the full moon and they both knew that meant Remus was going to transform into a werewolf himself. What better way to shake up poor Y/N then to let her meet her greatest fear.

***

Coming to, I woke up in the hospital room again, a pounding in my forehead. It seemed that waking up in the infirmary was becoming quite a familiar thing for me. Annoyed, I pulled the covers off my body and started for the exit, before being stopped by Madame Pomfrey.

“Miss L/N, please, just stay here overnight. You’ve dealt with a lot of trauma today and it would be best for you to rest here until morning.”

I knew where she was coming from but there was nothing worse than sleeping in one of those uncomfortable hospital beds, so I shook my head, giving Madame Pomfrey a grateful smile.

“I think it would be best for me to continue resting in my own dorm.” I pulled myself out of Pomfrey's grasp and opened the door, stepping out into the corridor. “Thank you for your concern though.”

The corridor was less stuffy than the hospital wing and the fresh air did wonders for my forehead. I felt like I had just been born again as I walked out of halls and into the outside world. The sun had just set over the horizon and the full moon was peeking up over the hills. It looked beautiful tonight, the bright light shining in the sky, reflecting on the black lake. The stars stood out against the moon, the constellations telling stories I couldn’t even decipher. I felt at peace in the night air.

Deciding to take the long way back to my common room, I disregarded the curfew rules, opting for a peaceful stroll instead. Walking out of the clock tower, I made my way through the courtyard, the light breeze sending ripples of goosebumps onto my skin. It was slightly chilly but nothing that bad, so I continued my journey.

The grounds were quiet tonight. Hagrid must’ve gone to sleep early tonight as there was no light shining from his cabin. It was an unusual sight but it made me realise how dark it was actually getting. Knowing that since I had already had two sleeps today and I probably wasn’t going to be able to sleep right away, I decided to stay out longer, muttering “lumos” under my breath. Immediately, my wand lit up, letting light shine into the night.

That’s when I heard rustling from the bushes. Cautiously, I spun around, my wand pointing directly at the direction of the noise. Squinting, I tried to make out what was coming from where the noise came from.

Was that a person?

All of a sudden, I could make out the face of Sirius Black, absolute terror replacing his normal dug grin. His eyes looked frightened and he was a stuttering mess.

“Oh merlin, Y/N, I’m so glad you’re here.” He was panting, stopping to catch his breath. “It’s Remus. He’s hurt.”

It was as if all my negativity towards Remus dropped in an instant. All I felt was concern for my self delegated rival. Immediately, I went off running from the same direction that Sirius came from, with Sirius eventually coming up at my rear, running beside me.

“Quick, towards the shrieking shack.” He stated and I nodded along. There was noise in the air tonight. I couldn’t tell if it was a dog howling or an owl hooting, all that I knew was that it made me sick to the stomach.

We stopped running when we reached the Whomping Willow. My heart stopped as I looked up the tree branches, somehow immobile. My gut was telling me to run away, but I looked back at Sirius, a pleading look in his eyes, and remembered that Remus was supposedly in there, supposedly injured.

“Lead the way.”

I gestured to Sirius and he beckoned me to follow him, kneeling down as he crawled through a hole at the base of the tree. Nervously, I followed, taking out my still illuminated wand and holding it close to my body. Only the light from my wand was lighting up the tunnel as Sirius and I walked further and further into the darkness. As we walked, the more and more concerning sounds I heard, including whimpering and some howling. My skin was itching but I fought the urge to run and we were suddenly at the entrance to another area.

Carefully, Sirius opened the door, leading us into a run down house. The walls were scratched up with claw marks and there were shreds of fabric littered all over the ground. A dingy smell of body odour and flesh was filling the room and I noticed how bloody hot it was in this shack, common sense telling me to pull off the sweater I was wearing.

Suddenly, Peter burst in through one of the rooms, always wearing a panicked look on his face. “Quick. James is injured here.”

I paused for a moment, my head spinning. I thought Remus was the one that got injured? But I didn’t have much time to think as a deer randomly sprinted out from one of the rooms, racing past me, it’s prongs slicing past my arms. I hissed as blood sept slowly from the wound, a stinging sensation flooding my arm.

Creeping in the direction the deer came from, I emerged into a room, stopping as I noticed the creature in the corner of the room. A huge werewolf was standing there, panting loudly, whimpering from its mouth. It’s paws were paling anxiously at the wall.

Then, it spun around, it’s nose twitching with excitement. It pounced forward at me, obviously being able to smell me from the other end of the room. I was too scared to move, the mouth agape as I watched the werewolf corner me against the wall.

It’s claws came swiping at me, cutting deep into my chest. One of the sharp talons cut on my neck, the wound bleeding much more than the others. The pain washed over me as I felt a tug at my arm, pulling me into another room. The door locked behind us, leaving the werewolf alone in the room.

Sirius was looking down at me as I fell to the ground. I couldn’t do anything anymore. Exhaustion caught up to me and I passed out for the third time today. The only thing different was that it wasn’t in Remus’ arms.

Oh shit.

Remus.

***

It wasn’t unusual for me to wake up in the hospital wing now. It seemed to be late morning, as sunlight was streaming in through the window. I felt groggy but I mustered up another courage to prop myself upright on the pillow and scanned around the room. Directly in front of me, I could see James lying down on one of the hospital beds, a deep wound on his arm, bandaged up.

Next to him was Peter. All he had was a bandage over his head and a black eye, but he seemed to be completely asleep, as he didn’t wake up to when Sirius started talking to James next to him.

Sirius didn’t look nearly as injured, although he had a few bruises littered on his legs. He seemed to be in a furious conversation with James and someone else. With all I could, I listened in to the conversation, trying to grapple on to what happened.

“We shouldn’t have brought Y/N to the shack.” My heart dropped, remembering what happened. There was a werewolf that attacked me last night. It must’ve attacked all four of the marauders. That’s why Sirius was looking for me, because Remus was attacked. That’s why Peter said James was injured. He must’ve also been attacked by the werewolf.

Keeping my consciousness a secret, I slipped out of bed, avoiding the prying eyes of Sirius and James, and darted to what I assumed to be Remus’ bed.

His bed was surrounded by a curtain for the most privacy of the five of us. I didn’t know why until I looked inside and saw how battered and bruised he was. He must’ve been attacked the worse by the werewolf.

There was a gash, cutting across his face, slicing up his eyebrow. His chest was bare as a bandage was covering what seemed to be a deep cut, as it was already bleeding through the crème coloured linen, turning it a scarlet red. Remus did seem to be awake though so I approached his bed.

Sitting beside him, I reached out for his hand. I startled him, as he turned briskly around but melted at my touch as he saw my face. A look of guilt was spreading through his eyes.

“I’m so sorry Y/N-”

I cut him off. “There’s no need for you to apologise, Remus. You were also attacked by that werewolf last night.”

A confused face appeared on Remus before it contorted into something else. Contentment. “Right. I was attacked by the werewolf.”

“And you seem to have gotten the worst of it. You look terrible.” I tried making a joke and ease the tension, but making Remus laugh only seemed to cause him more pain as he clutched his rib.

“Y/N…”

“Remus?”

“Why are you afraid of werewolves so much?” He asked. I sighed, knowing there was no avoiding this question now.

“My family was attacked by a werewolf when we were younger. Well, I say my family. My younger brother was the target and he suffered a lot. I just feel so upset and guilty because of it. It should’ve been me. He was too young.”

“I’m sorry.” Remus said, reaching out so his other hand was touching mine. “That’s a horrible thing to go through.”

“I’m sorry for being so horrible to you.” I finally admitted, looking Remus dead in the eye. “I’ve always been so cruel to you for no reason and there’s no excuse for it. Like today, you helped me when I fainted twice. You had no need to do that, yet you did. Thank you.” Remus started talking but I cut him off. “Seriously Lupin, you mean a lot to me. I’m sorry our little rivalry got to me.”

Remus stayed quiet as his finger rubbed gently against the back of my hand. It seemed like he didn’t know what to say next so I decided to break the ice and end the awkwardness. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips gently to Remus’ cheek, watching as a pink tint flushed to the surface. I pulled away from his grasp, walking to the curtain.

“Again, thank you.”

And I walked away, hurt that he never said anything back.

#harry potter #marauders era #marauders #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #remus lupin imagine

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officerjennie · 3 years

Text

You'll Never Be Too Much

CW: ED adjacent thoughts, weight gain thought of negatively (by Eskel), spiraling thoughts, weight gain spoken of positively (by Jaskier), tummy kisses, scar kisses, stretch mark kisses, brief mentions of witchers not eating well on the path, soft!Eskel, hurt/comfort. Starts out rough but ends up Soft. WC: 7.6k+ Rating: T Prompt: Tickling Summary: Eskel injured himself at the start of the winter and ended up resting throughout it, and when it's time to meet up with Jaskier in the spring he fears he will be unattractive to him. But Jaskier is determined to do his best to show Eskel just how beautiful he is when he's soft and healthy.

Dedicated to @all-hail-the-witcher who kept yelling at me to stop hurting Eskel. And a special thanks to @lindianaj0nes for betaing for me <3

It was a mistake coming here.

Eskel rode Scorpion through the small town streets, apprehension tensing through his body until he was just one knot of it, his eyes unable to look further than the stones straight ahead of where his horse took him, unable to look up and see the faces around him.

Sometime the fall before, when the trees were all but bare and the scent of rotting leaves was thick in the air, Jaskier had shooed him home. It had made his heart ache though he knew Jaskier’s decision had not been one made of emotion - no matter how difficult that might be to believe. Jaskier, following logic instead of his heart or cock, but the regret and the worry and the love had been so clear on his face that not even Eskel could deny it.

Jaskier was many things, but an outright liar was not one of them. And there was so much proof to his love that, after almost seven years, Eskel was finally comfortable and confident enough to relax into it.

But that had been before the winter, and dread sat rotten in his gut as he rode slowly towards their agreed upon meeting place.

It was a nothing town in the middle of a nothing country, named but nothing to that name. They’d chosen it because of its location more than anything else. Nestled nicely an equidistance between both Kaer Morhen and Oxenfurt, in an area that wasn’t too keen on driving away witchers, not really known for much monster nuisance or trouble. It was a bit dull and boring for the both of them but when it came to spring meetings dull and boring was nice, a pleasant if brief respite from the world they’d be flinging themselves into shortly.

Jaskier would be there at the inn, waiting for him. As he always was. Singing the crowd into a joyous lot, using a rickety table as his stage, his bright colors splashed against the dull and dark of the rest of the world - and Eskel would be joining him soon, slipping into a booth in the corner to see how long it took for Jaskier to notice he’d shown up, because if the way his bard’s face lit up upon noticing him couldn’t convince him of his love then nothing else ever could.

But this year, this spring, he feared the lust might not follow.

Eskel shifted, feeling his shirt too tight against his skin, and when he looked up at last the inn was far too close. But he’d come this far, and he’d made the mistake of skipping one of their meetings before. Not entirely on purpose, but it hadn’t stopped Jaskier from hunting him down and giving him several pieces of his mind. For several months.

And the songs that followed felt like they’d never end.

The inn had a dingy stable built right next to it, one with only a few stalls and one single, rather sleepy stable boy who always had hay sticking out from his dirty blonde hair. Eskel slipped him a few extra coins after settling Scorpion in, nodding as the boy settled back onto his bucket, coins shoved into his pockets before he rested back against the wood and pulled the hat back over his eyes.

He could already hear his singing. One of Geralt’s songs, a grand tale that was more hyperbole than anything else - anyone who knew Geralt would know Jaskier was embellishing but no one in the inn had probably laid eyes on him before. Or, if they had, they only knew the gruff exterior and the character that Jaskier spun with his words.

It was enough to distract him momentarily from his worries. He entered the inn and slipped easily past the crowd, not drawing more than a pair or two of eyes his way, the barkeep sliding him a tankard without even bothering to demand payment up front. Eskel’s face was a memorable one, and he was good for his coin; there were some benefits to returning every spring and fall.

Jaskier had not changed much since he last saw him, Eskel noted as he slid into a booth (not the same one as the last time, never the same one. That would have ruined their game). His hair was a bit longer, curls a bit wilder from the length, looking as if he’d recently run his hands through them a few too many times. Doublet open, chemise white and almost see-through and far too visible to be decent, black curls begging for fingers to run through them. He was wearing red and Eskel colored at the sight, eyes slipping away as Jaskier drew the crowd into a roar of laughter at his raunchy lyrics.

Not a single bit of Jaskier’s performance was ever unplanned, and his clothes were part of his every day performance. There was a reason he wore red.

Eskel managed to get through a few tankards of ale as he waited, eventually going back to watching him play, letting himself let go enough to be drawn into the music. It was a bit too loud, a bit too much for his liking, but for Jaskier he could put up with it. The crowd, the noise, the scraping of wooden chairs against the floor and the slamming of cups down on the tables. All of it could be tuned down if he tried hard enough, focused hard enough on something else, and that something else was how expertly Jaskier’s long fingers worked the strings on his lute, how he poured every emotion into every lyric and word, and how he could see those cornflower eyes scan the crowd every once in a while looking for a matching splash of red.

When Jaskier finally spotted him, it was enough to make Eskel’s heart flutter. His words did not stumble, his fingers did not stutter, but his eyes found him and blew wide. From across the room Eskel watched as his pupils grew, drinking in the sight of him, eyes flickering as if to sear the memory of him into his mind. His lips drew upwards in a smile he couldn’t hold back nor could he ever fake - Jaskier’s grin, his true and joyous grin, was lopsided and silly, not thought through and perfected like the rest of his performance and Eskel adored it all the more for it. Treasured each moment it was sent his way as he did just then, forgetting his worries as he heard the lilt of excitement weave into his bard’s music.

Jaskier didn’t even attempt to make it through another song, bowing out quickly and hopping off of his table even quicker, the crowd nearly forgotten as his grin spread and his feet brought him straight to his waiting witcher.

“And here I thought you’d forgotten me,” he teased, though the hurt that once edged into those words was long gone. Didn’t stop Eskel from thinking he was a little shit for bringing it up still, after all of those years, but Eskel had grown up around little shits and knew how to deal with them. Mostly.

“Hard to forget someone like you.” Eskel winked just to hear Jaskier laugh, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest - and the movement reminded him of why he’d sat with his back to the wall, table in-between him and Jaskier’s makeshift stage, the worries and fears coming crashing down on him as he made to tug his shirt back into place.

Jaskier didn’t seem to notice, not yet. Too busy shaking his head fondly and chattering away, holding onto his lute strap with one hand while the other gestured and flourished through the air, spinning his fingers as he spun the tale of his journey there. Eskel caught a good bit of it, whisps of familiar words as Jaskier joined him at the table, his bard pressing a leg against Eskel’s as he went on about how one fork in the road had nearly been his downfall when his turn had been blocked.

“It was luck and Melitele’s blessing alone that got me here,” he concluded, dramatically heaving a sigh as he fluttered his eyelashes, looking up through them in the way that usually had Eskel’s insides melting. “We must truly be meant to be, dearheart, if not even the most formidable of foes can keep us apart.”

“A fallen tree and a couple of bandits aren’t that dangerous,” he pointed out, keeping at least one hand in his lap and hoping the position was normal. How was it that he usually sat? Did he usually have his hands on the table? Arms across his chest? Nothing like trying to act inconspicuous to make one realize they knew so little about their own behavior, and Eskel felt disdain at not knowing how to act like himself.

“You feeling alright, love?”

Eskel could have cursed himself, doubly so because he didn’t know what had given him away. But Jaskier’s lips had turned down, his eyes searching his face for any hint of something, one of his hands reaching out to hold Eskel’s where it had been resting on the table.

“I’m fine,” he lied, the words heavy on his tongue. Heavy like the fears that had turned into stones in his gut, heavy like every step had been on the way here. Heavy like him. “Just a bit tired. Traveling down a perilous mountain is a bit more exhausting than some formidable trees.”

The teasing worked at least. Distracted Jaskier enough for his nose to scrunch up cutely, for the frown to disappear from his face. But it was only a delay of the inevitable as Jaskier leaned towards him, bringing his hand up to brush his lips against the back of his knuckles, the tender touch followed by a few soft kisses to his fingers.

“I’ve already got us a room. Upstairs, window overlooking the stable, just like you like. Always best to leave the crowd wanting so why don’t we retire early tonight?”

“It’s not anywhere near night,” Eskel said, the correction in place of the irrational words he wished to say. ‘Let’s stay down here’, he wanted to suggest. ‘We can eat and drink and stay here, on opposite sides of the table. We can stay here all night and all through tomorrow and don’t look at me, I don’t want to see your face fall in disappointment’.

His hand tugged at the end of his shirt, trying to hide the soft skin that refused to stay contained. But Jaskier intertwined their fingers so sweetly, his voice like honey, lips so soft where they ran across his own rough skin.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted, voice full of all the nights they’d spent far, far away from each other. “So what if it’s not night; maybe I’d rather spend the day in your arms than around all these drunken fools.”

“You’re sappier than a maple,” Eskel accused, his cheeks dusted pink, but they both knew Eskel didn’t hold it against him - just as they both knew Jaskier would get what he wanted.

It meant standing up, however, and Eskel was not looking forward to that. But he let himself get tugged up, making sure to not let Jaskier feel the weight of him, pushing himself up instead of reveling in the strength in those deceptively slender looking arms. Jaskier laced their fingers together the moment they were both standing and Eskel counted his blessings as Jaskier led the way, eyes elsewhere and ahead of them, his bard quiet for once as he led them past the bar and up the stairs, halfway down the hall on the left, their door not even locked much to Eskel’s chagrin.

“Not worried your bags will be pilfered through?”

“I was in a hurry,” Jaskier pouted, dropping Eskel’s hand and making a show of locking the door behind them, tossing the key onto a table that looked a little out of place with no chairs to be seen. “Now, on the bed, mister. I’ve walked a long road and sang my throat raw countless nights to reach you, and I’m not wasting another moment outside of those arms!”

Eskel hesitated. He hated that he did, with his back to Jaskier as he heard him gently placing his lute on the same table he’d carelessly tossed the keys onto - and it occurred to him that Jaskier had probably requested it specifically for that purpose, using his exceptional charm to get his way as usual, and the coin toss had landed on success rather than backfiring in his face as it sometimes was wont to do.

He shifted his weight, feeling the pull of the muscles he’d fucked up in his leg at the start of the winter. Not even the start of it; on his journey up the mountain, too cocky for his own good, not taking care with his steps and leading to a nearly fatal fall that had left him limping and dragging himself the rest of the way home.

If he’d been human - if he’d still been human - it would have been a permanent injury. As it was his own stubbornness had made it worse over the winter, and it was one he could still feel a few months later. One that had cost him.

He should be grateful he’d survived, and he was grateful of it, but as he stared at the bed he was supposed to climb in he wondered if it really would’ve been all that bad to skip their meeting until fall. Skip the few months they’d get together now, the nights he could spend in Jaskier’s arms, for a chance to work past the rough winter and resemble more of himself before Jaskier caught sight of him again.

It wouldn’t do to stand there in the middle of the room any longer. He started towards the bed a bit too quickly, almost forgetting to take off his armor and boots as he went, the rest of his pack having been left to Scorpion to defend with his viscous bite and deadly kicking aim.

Eskel was under the covers before Jaskier was even ready to turn towards the bed, his bard ever slow with getting ready for even the simplest of things despite how he rushed and shooed others on. The doublet had been folded neatly and moved around until he deemed a place suitable enough to stash it away, his boots aligned neatly near the door while Eskel’s had been kicked off towards the wall. Jaskier scratched his hair as he sighed, his shoulders sagging, the performance melting away and leaving a disaster of a man that Eskel could not love more if he tried.

The sheets sussed together as Jaskier crawled into them as if he’d never felt a more comfortable bed, not stopping until his nose was nuzzling into Eskel’s chest, legs tangling themselves in Eskel’s as his hands, to Eskel’s growing horror, quickly found their way under the back of his shirt to circle around him and tug him close. But not as close as they used to be able to be, not with his stomach in the way, pushing Jaskier away as Jaskier’s cold fingers leeched the heat from him.

Jaskier hummed, and Eskel counted the seconds as they rolled over into a minute. Two. Three. He knew it would come eventually. The questions, the ‘why’s, the ‘what happened to you’ and the disappointed pursing of those pretty pink lips. He managed to wrap his arms loosely around Jaskier as he waited for it all to come. There was no doubt in his mind that Jaskier would love him no matter what - he’d proven that point time and time again - but love wasn’t the only thing that held them together, that kept them company at night, and it wasn’t something he’d struggled to find throughout his long life.

After all, his family loved him. Vesemir had raised him and they’d become closer after the sacking of the keep, feeling like family rather than what they’d been before. His brothers as well, no matter that they got under each other’s skin like no one else could. Eskel knew love, knew it well, it was no stranger to him - but Jaskier had brought so much along with it that Eskel couldn’t- he just couldn’t.

How many times had Jaskier run his hands all over him, over even his scars, over every part of him that he hid from the world in shame and Jaskier had called him beautiful. Every place Jaskier’s fingers had traveled so had his lips, brushing against him as if Eskel was a precious thing and not some mutated imitation of a human. And Eskel had gotten used to it, that tenderness, the way his heart would flutter and feel so full at every honeyed word of praise that would drip from Jaskier’s lips.

What must he think of him now? The strong arms that Jaskier had purred about the first time he’d pressed a palm into Eskel’s erection through his pants, the strength that used to have Jaskier fawning over him - it was covered, now, hidden under a thick layer of fat from all the nothing he’d done all winter.

“If you think much harder the neighbors will hear your thoughts.”

Eskel blinked out of the darkening spots of his mind. When he tilted his head down just enough to look at Jaskier he found his love frowning up at him, a bit of his lip worrying between his teeth, brow furrowed but only just.

Guilt tinged at the edge of the self-loathing that had been building a nice home in his chest, because that was a look he’d only ever seen once on Jaskier. It was concern, nervousness, and the way he so carefully held himself back instead of pushing all of the emotions to the forefront meant he was feeling something he wanted to hide.

Jaskier didn’t hide himself. Not unless he thought he wasn’t good enough, and that self-doubt was only reserved for those closest to his heart. And Eskel had made him doubt himself somehow, some way, and he had no right putting those feelings on him.

“I’m fine, Jask.” Those weren’t the words he meant. ‘It’s fine. Everything’s fine, everything’s alright’, he meant, and he soothed a hand in circles on Jaskier’s back, bringing him as close as his protruding stomach would allow.

“You’re not.” He could tell by the worrying of his bottom lip that those weren’t Jaskier’s words either, but Eskel wasn’t sure what doubts had wriggled their way into his mind and nor did he know the why’s.

Words weren’t his strong suit, and personal communication wasn’t Jaskier’s. But seven years they’d been together and Eskel wasn’t going to let his own shortcomings get in the way.

“Something the matter, songbird?”

Jaskier snorted lightly, but he nuzzled into his chest. A good sign.

“You’re the one who’s so tense. Stiff as a board, which is entirely unlike you. Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

‘What happened to you?’ Eskel swallowed against the thick lump in his throat, leaning his cheek against the top of Jaskier’s head and willing himself to relax.

“Not currently,” he admitted. His injury might still bug him but it wasn’t a pressing issue, didn’t even get in the way of him sparring or fighting anymore - not like it had all winter, after his damned brothers had noticed it, much to Eskel’s frustration. He’d tried to hide it and carry on like normal, but one misstep had caused his leg to give out under him, exasperating the injury and making his brothers and Vesemir infuriatingly stubborn over him resting and not doing a single task that might upset it further.

It had meant no sparring. No training of any sort. Just laying or sitting around or only doing the simplest of tasks while he got fat off of Vesemir’s home cooking, the muscles in his arms and legs softening from lack of use, and soon the definition that had been built on the path was nowhere to be seen. Eskel had never been more self-conscious about his body which was saying something given every waking moment someone found some way to remind him of what he looked like.

People were afraid of him. Of what he was, of what he could do. They saw his scars and the scent of fear always lingered, like they knew in the back of their mind they weren’t safe no matter how careful he was to make his presence known and not sneak up on anyone, how he kept his hands visible at all times, how he moved slowly and deliberately so they knew he meant them no harm.

He’d lived with all of that for so long, but none of it prepared him for this. For knowing he could have stopped this, could have kept himself in shape.

So, no, he was not hurt. His leg only cramped every now and then, the injury more or less healed, but Eskel was not fine and he wouldn’t be until-

The spiral was stopped with a kiss. Nothing lingering, nothing passionate, just a peck to his lips that brought him right back from wherever his mind had been trying to drag him to. And he was met with the softest expression he’d ever seen Jaskier wear, with fingers caressing his cheek, the sound of his love’s heartbeat a little faster than it should have been.

“Where were you going, dearheart?” His words were soft with emotion, the self-doubt nowhere to be seen anymore. A small blessing within whatever curse Eskel was winding around them, ruining their long awaited meeting with. “Don’t hide whatever it is from me. If you can, if you want, you know I’ll listen.”

Eskel wanted to laugh at that, because how could he hide it when not even his shirt could cover up his shame. But he didn’t. Instead he curled up tighter around his songbird, tucking Jaskier up under his chin once more so he didn’t have to see the concern on his face anymore.

Talk about it... would that do them any good? Would facing it head on, ripping off the bandaid, be any better than waiting for Jaskier to eventually say something? Maybe it would be. Maybe it would be worse. But Eskel was tired from the road, tired of second and third guessing whether he should have showed up at all, and when he was tired the small, small parts of him that dared to reach out for comfort had more sway in his thoughts and actions.

“It won’t take long to get rid of it.” Eskel murmured the words into his lover’s hair, as if hiding them could hide his shame. “Just a month or so at most. Then I’ll be back to normal.” He’d be better then. He could do it by then. Just...a month, maybe two, he could ask Jaskier for that much.

“Normal?” Jaskier tried to peek his head back up but Eskel held him too tightly, not wanting to face him, so Jaskier gave up with a sigh pressed into his collarbone alongside a few soft kisses. “So something is wrong then - I can’t help you if you don’t speak clearly, dearheart. What are you getting rid of? Are you ill- should we be seeking out a witch? A healer? Oh please don’t tell me I have to see Yen already, that is not how I want to start out my year.”

Bringing up that old rivalry was enough to draw a chuckle out of him, no matter how short lived the humor was - and no matter that Yennefer and Jaskier apparently got along just fine. Half of the time, anyway. Eskel did not envy Geralt any of that nonsense, though it had seemed to calm down significantly once Jaskier had switched his witcher hyperfocus onto Eskel.

The old rivalry aside... Eskel shifted around, a little uncomfortable that Jaskier was going to make him draw such blunt attention to his issue. That he was making him say it flat out instead of letting him talk around it. Bluntness was usually how Eskel dealt with his issues anyway, most of them at the very least, but when they were so personal he preferred to not and just...not bother anyone with them in the first place.

Bothering Jaskier with it was unavoidable, given that he hadn’t stayed away. That was something he was going to have to live with until he fixed it. The right diet might help him do that faster, a stricter training regime, he could do it, would do it.

But if Jaskier wanted blunt, wanted him to throw it out open and ugly between them, Eskel didn’t have the energy to keep talking in circles around him.

“I got fat.” As if to mock him, with his next deep breath he felt his stomach press against Jaskier, putting more distance between them as it pushed him away. And when Jaskier made some sort of gargled noise in his throat Eskel had to shut his eyes tight against it.

This was it. This was when Jaskier would tell him how he’d noticed the instant he’d seen Eskel from across the bar. How he’d seen his shirt straining to contain the lot of him back, how it had made him hesitant to touch him - maybe that’s why he’d rushed them off to the room, Eskel thought suddenly. Jaskier hadn’t wanted to be seen with him, hadn’t wanted to be embarrassed by him, and this was when he’d hear what he’d been dreading all along.

Jaskier would still love him, Eskel did not doubt that. But how could he still be attracted to him like this? How could he still trace his scars with calloused yet gentle fingers, murmur words of praise against a body that had hardly deserved it before and certainly didn’t now. It had been a stretch of anyone’s imagination to call Eskel beautiful but he’d wanted to believe it, but not even Jaskier, his beloved songbird who’d seen good in the darkest of places, seen the good in those who wanted nothing more than to shy away and hide from the world - not even he could look at him now and see-

“And?”

His thoughts stopped again, and Eskel had to circle back to that word. Circle back and puzzle on it, puzzle on the question, because he wasn’t sure why the question was posed in the first place. There was no ‘and’, it was...just that. It was what it was, and wasn’t...wasn’t that bad enough?

Jaskier didn’t wait for his answer. Or perhaps the minute Eskel took trying to catch up with what the question might mean was too long and he continued without one anyway. “What’s so wrong with gaining weight? We do it every winter. Lucky enough to, even, I’ve seen too many starving people begging for food during the worst of them.”

That… Eskel tucked Jaskier up closer before he had a chance to try to escape his lax arms, ignoring his grumbling when he did. It was true that they both tended to gain a few pounds over the winters. No matter if Jaskier went off to see his family (a very rare occurrence) or spent the time teaching at his old academy, he always came back with a nice layer of plush to him that Eskel loved to knead and feel. Hips softer, stomach making for a wonderful pillow, his thighs becoming squishable in a way that made Eskel want to bury himself between them.

And Eskel himself usually left home with a more rounded shape, but that was…

“That’s different.” It was nothing like this year, nothing like how he looked like now. No matter that he didn’t feel all that different, that perhaps it wasn’t that much more weight than the previous years, this time it was so much more.

Some thought reminded him that didn’t quite track, but the thought didn’t stick, tossed away because this time was different.

“How is it any different? Eskel just- your neck and chest are gorgeous, love, but can I please look at your face while I’m talking to you?”

Eskel relented, reluctantly letting up his hold so Jaskier could move back far enough to meet his eyes. At least he didn’t look as disgusted as he thought he might, his nose scrunched up in a way he’d always found rather cute, his lips pursed and promising him a tongue lashing if he wasn’t careful.

But his words weren’t harsh accusations when he continued, and his hands had yet to leave Eskel’s body. One came back up to stroke a thumb over his cheek as Jaskier spoke softly to him, his words filled with the wrong kind of wonder.

“What’s wrong, love? What’s different? Tell me.”

There had only ever been two people who could make him squirm under their gaze like that, and it was one of the main reasons Vesemir had had much better luck with him than any of the other wolf teachers. It was difficult to not listen, to bite back his tongue and not talk when leveled with that exact look and maybe it was a little concerning that Jaskier and Vesemir both shared that power over him.

Eskel sighed. Refused to look up at Jaskier, fixing his gaze somewhere in the dark curls that peeked up over his loose chemise. Fidgeted and tried not to fidget and only ended up fidgeting more.

“I didn’t,” he started, then stalled, not sure how to put all of his shortcomings to words. But he had to at least try, lest that look turn to the worse disappointed one. “I could have done better. Didn’t do anything all winter, really, just…”

As he went along, it didn’t get any easier, though Jaskier’s fingers had started to rub a soothing pattern into his back. The ones resting on his cheek held him softly even over his scars, never flinching away, never twitching in annoyance. Jaskier just held him and waited patiently, as if he had all the time in the world for Eskel to chew out what was wrong and different.

“On the way up the mountain, I fucked up my leg. Couldn’t train. Couldn’t help.” It all tasted as bitter then as it had during the winter. Forcing his brothers to pick up his slack, not being anything but a burden on the lot of them. Even when he tried he’d only made things worse, pissing Lambert off and making Geralt grouse at him like he was some baby witcher who’d never even gone out on the path before. All he’d been able to do was laze around and grow fat, muscles flabby and losing their strength, he should have been better and he could get better- would get better, for all of them.

Jaskier brushed his lips lightly against his jaw, and Eskel couldn’t help but look at him then. The way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones, the way sunlight lit up his features and made his skin glow. Gods but his songbird was beautiful; how could he possibly deserve him, now especially?

Those lips brushed all the way up to his own, pausing every so often to leave soft kisses in their wake, until Jaskier was kissing him. It was one Eskel slowly melted into, pressing back, soft and slow and lingering until his hand was tangling in soft brown curls as he gently nipped the lip Jaskier had been worrying between his teeth.

“Dearheart,” Jaskier murmured between their kisses, his cornflower blue eyes gentle as they met Eskel’s, “I’m not sure I understand. Can you help me try?”

Eskel would be willing to do anything if Jaskier requested it in that voice. All he could do was nod and continue to brush their lips together, breathing him in, letting their noses brush together as well just to feel the soft contact between them.

“Thank you, love.” And he meant it, Eskel could hear it in his tone, could feel it in the rhythm of his heartbeat. “Now, please, can we try this again? You’ll have to talk to me like I’m the single most oblivious person in the world just to make sure I follow every step of the way. Alright?”

Eskel did. He started with his fall, how it had fucked up his leg so badly that Scorpion was the only reason he was still alive. Continued on to how he tried to hide the injury - and did not miss the pinched look that promised him they’d be revisiting that little fact at a later date, but Jaskier, somewhat out of character, managed to bite his tongue and save the lecture for later - and how it had ended up making it worse. How he’d been refused to contribute in any fashion after that, burdening his family and growing fat off their food anyway, his injury preventing him from keeping up with himself until he got worse and worse from it.

At some point, the hand that had been soothing circles into his back moved, slowly coming forward until it rested on his stomach. Eskel tensed when it did, though he fought past the urge to bite off his words and stop speaking. But eventually it wasn’t up to him anyway, Jaskier gently cutting him off with another kiss, and then another, and another until Eskel was melting though he hadn’t even realized how tense he’d become.

“Okay. Alright. Now, I’m going to repeat what I believe you’re trying to say, but love,” Jaskier kissed him again a few times, then reached up to kiss his nose, and Eskel wasn’t sure why he was being so extra tender with him today. “I need you to know I don’t believe these things, and that I’m not teasing or judging you for them. Alright?”

Eskel managed to nod but his words were gone. All he wanted to do was sleep, perhaps roll over so his stomach wasn’t pressing into Jaskier - it was probably uncomfortable though Jaskier hadn’t tried to pull away from him quite yet.

“You think you’re fat, and you think that’s a bad thing.” Eskel tried to nod at that as well but Jaskier shook his head, kissing his nose again as his hand began to gently caress the front of Eskel’s stomach. “You think that you...that you were a burden on your family, and that- this is the part that I’m struggling with, Esk, I’m having to make some assumptions here but- you think you’re not...worthy? If you’re not thinner and more visibly muscular, is that it?”

Jaskier’s face was pinched up when he said that. It wasn’t an expression Eskel had an easy time reading. His own lips pursed, but that sounded about right. He wasn’t good like this and was only holding them all back.

But Jaskier shook his head, such concern written in the wrinkle of his brow that Eskel could only frown at his own thoughts. “Esk. Eskel, dearest, dearheart. Why would you ever think that?”

His words were gentle but they were breathed in a rough whisper, Jaskier’s fingers finding their way underneath the shirt that could barely hold back Eskel’s stomach. But instead of pinching or grabbing the fat they found they just gently soothed over his skin, rubbing circles there as they’d done so many times before. As if he wasn’t different now, as if it was normal.

“I’m not…” He struggled to find the words, licking his lips, not for the first time wishing he was better at talking about this, talking about himself. Sure, he would never be as bad as Geralt, but Eskel struggled and floundered so much when the attention was on him that he could never begrudge Geralt’s stunted emotions. “Jask, I’m just not… I’m not attractive like this.”

Jaskier gasped, and Eskel’s eyes snapped back up to his face to find so many emotions flickering across it that he couldn’t keep track of them all. “Eskel you- you take that back this instant! You are the single most handsome man I’ve come across on this whole continent and that’s saying something.”

Even with Jaskier being so earnest with his words, Eskel would never believe him about that. Though his heart wanted to believe that Jaskier believed it, or at least believed him to be attractive, handsome, beautiful, precious, all of the things Jaskier had pressed against his skin and whispered in his ear over the years they’d been together.

That hand continued to caress his stomach as if it wasn’t pushing them apart, the calloused fingers pushing through the hairs there. Rubbing, lightly brushing the back of his fingers against him, gently painting patterns onto his skin as if there was a picture there that only Jaskier could see. Eskel had wanted to move away from the touch, had wanted to flinch at it, hide his shame, shy away, but under the gentle affection he found himself relaxing. It soothed the ache in his chest until he couldn’t listen to his own thoughts anymore, focused in on what Jaskier was telling him.

“Esk, there’s nothing wrong with this.” His touch became just the slightest bit firmer, massaging his stomach as he brushed their noses together, his other hand still on Eskel’s cheek. “This is good, this is healthy, it’s not something bad or wrong.” Jaskier kissed the protest that was forming right off of Eskel’s lips, not letting his mind catch up and throw out how Jaskier was very wrong about that. “Eskel I would much much rather see you like this - healthy, soft, thick and sexy - versus when the path gets rough and you’ve not had anything to eat for a week.”

“Sexy?”

“We’ll get back to that.” Pink suddenly splattered Jaskier’s cheeks and his eyes flickered down to Eskel’s stomach, though Eskel made no move to hide it from view. “Look, just, this is good. I need you to hear that, know that. The soft protects your muscles, something I know you already know, but it’s a good thing. Dehydration, starvation, those are terrifying and very much not what I want my beloved witcher to deal with during the winter.

“Speaking of, what is so wrong with getting some rest for your injured leg, which you could barely stand on let alone walk and fight and train on.”

Ah. There it was. Eskel had the decency to at least blush when he shot Jaskier a grin, though it earned the tip of his nose a nip - the whole while Jaskier’s hand never once pausing where it was slowly massaging and caressing his stomach.

“Bloody witchers, the lot of you are ridiculous.”

“You love me,” Eskel teased, half just to hear him admit it.

And Jaskier did, without a single moment’s hesitation, without any regret to be heard in his voice, “I do, dearest. I do. Every single inch of you.” Eskel’s heart picked up as Jaskier kissed down his jawline, peppering kisses down his neck, stopping at his collarbone as his hand slipped from his cheek to follow him. The hand at his stomach was still tracing idle patterns, not caring if his skin was scarred or not, as if every single inch of skin there deserved the attention - no matter how much there was.

“I love you,” Jaskier whispered again, right over his heart, and Eskel’s breath caught in his throat.

Jaskier kissed down, down, down all the way to his stomach. Kissing his shirt on the way as if it wasn’t there, as if it was Eskel’s bare skin he was adoring with affection. And when he reached his stomach Eskel tried for a moment to suck it in, to make it appear smaller, but Jaskier was having none of it. He wrinkled his nose and scowled up at Eskel with a firm, “be nice to it, I love it,” and Eskel didn’t have it in himself to argue then.

Though Eskel was much stronger than Jaskier, he moved easily when Jaskier pushed him onto his back. His beloved songbird made himself cozy between his thighs as he gently caressed his stomach and sides, his nose brushing just above his naval before his lips joined in. And Eskel had to blink the tears away because Jaskier continued on. Peppered him with kiss after kiss, tracing the stretch marks that stood against his tanned skin, showing him over and over without poetic songs or honeyed words that he was loved. That this part of him was loved.

Kisses on his soft skin wherever Jaskier could reach. Gentle fingers caressing and tracing patterns. Eskel almost squirmed over it all, just the side of too much, but he wanted it. Wanted to feel loved, wanted to be loved, to deserve all of this. Though he didn’t believe he did, he wanted desperately, reaching out a hand to grasp one of Jaskier’s and hold onto him tightly.

“Jask.” It sounded like a request, though he wasn’t sure what he was asking for. Jaskier continued on kissing him, stopping to press his lips against a rather nasty burn scar on his side, kissing all the way up and pushing his shirt out of the way as he went. He made sure to love every scar he passed along the way, knowing each by heart though he knew so few of the stories - Eskel kept most of his past to himself, much to Jaskier’s usual chagrin, but today was not a day for pressed questions.

Eventually, Jaskier worked the shirt off entirely, throwing it off to the side and kissing Eskel’s lips once firmly before going back to his chest. He laid mostly against him, showering his softened chest with love and affection..

Careful with his grip, Eskel held him tight. Blinked away some of the more stubborn tears as Jaskier kissed soft words onto him, murmurs that etched their way onto his heart, and Eskel knew without a doubt that he would never forget this day no matter how long he might live.

But there were some doubts wriggling around in his head that he couldn’t quite shake. Instead of letting them fester, instead of letting them spiral out of control, Eskel held onto Jaskier tight, and with a small voice he reached out to him.

“Is it too much?”

Jaskier pressed a kiss right over his heart, blue eyes fluttering as he looked up at him, a look of sheer adoration that was just for him clear on that pretty face. “Is what too much, love?”

It took all that he was not to fidget or look away. “Me. My stomach. My- well, just me.”

“No, love.” Another kiss over his quickening heartbeat. “You’re perfect, you’d never be too much.”

“It didn’t fit anymore.”

“What didn’t?” Yet another, before Jaskier laid his ear against his chest, fingers tracing idle patterns into his side.

“My shirt.” Eskel turned his head to see it laying crumpled on the ground.

“We’ll buy a new one.” The fingers lightened their touch on his skin, and Eskel had to bite his lip as they traveled across his ribs.

“I don’t have the coin to waste on new clothes.”

“I do.”

The fingers at his side continued on running over his ribs, and finally Eskel couldn’t keep back the fidgeting, his mouth quirking into an unintentional grin at the ticklish feeling. All of which did not go unnoticed as he jostled Jaskier with his jerking. His songbird first looked up at him with momentary confusion before he understood what had happened, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips as his stalled fingers started to tap against Eskel’s skin.

“I’m sorry, love, but is there something wrong?”

Eskel rolled his eyes but snickered when Jaskier poked just the right spot between two of his ribs, unable to help himself. And Jaskier, having discovered after all this time that Eskel was ticklish, of course descended upon him, assaulting both of his sides until Eskel’s laughter was booming in the air around them.

He could have shoved him off. Could have tossed him off the bed or held his hands above his head. But instead Eskel allowed it until a different emotion prickled at the corners of his eyes, and then he flipped them, laying on Jaskier and nosing into the crook of his neck and just. Just laid there, the ends of laughter still keeping him light, his beloved songbird doing a horrible impression of pouting while snuggling him close and kissing his hair.

“I love you.” The words caught on a lump in his throat but Eskel meant them so much, closing his eyes and burrowing himself into his songbird. And Eskel believed Jaskier when he said “I love you too,” believed him with his whole heart.

One afternoon could not erase the thoughts that had clouded Eskel’s mind, but it was a good afternoon, and Eskel could not find a single regret over coming to Jaskier that spring. He could never regret not hiding from him, not hiding his softer stomach and softer thighs, because in that moment he knew that Jaskier found him beautiful and beloved all the same with or without them.

The rest could come later. The rest of his mental healing, but for now this was enough of a start, and Eskel reveled in the tender love Jaskier showered him in.

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

#jaskel #eskier #eskel x jaskier #jaskier x eskel #eskel/jaskier #jaskier/eskel #the witcher #fanfiction #mywriting #my summer bingo #someone please explain to me how i got this #-gestures vaguely at whole story-#out of TICKLING

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nonbinaryeye · 3 years

Text

Yes, @trustworthy-liar and I have plenty of headcannons regarding all the lives of Jonah Magnus.

Continuation of THIS POST.

Jonah Magnus

Charming young man who has one day appeared in the society and acted like he always belonged there. He doesn’t like talking about his past.

When he was young he read all books in a family library. After arriving to London he was very surprised by how much he still doesn’t know.

Met Barnabass Bennet for the first time when the young man was travelling through Scotland.

Barnabass later intorduced him to all his acquaintances in the high society such as Robert Smirke and all the others.

Very easily forgets himself in his studies and research especially when there's no one around to drag him away and force him to eat and sleep.

Still genuenly cared about his peers but unfortunately he cared about a knowledge a bit more.

Infamous member of many gentlemen clubs.

Dissapeared at age 83. His body was never found. There are rumors his ghost still wanders through the halls of the Magnus insitute.

(years mark the time Jonah’s conciousnes was inhabiting the body - who would guess that it correspond with time as the Head of the institute as well)

William Bennett

Young, pretty, had decent amount of money and fascinated by all the wierd and obscure things. He was naturally very intriqued when Jonah Magnus offered him a private tour through the artifacts...

Jonah took over William Bennett at age 21. Feeling sour after unsuccesful ritual he decided to enjoy the decadence.

Met with Mordechai once. Lets say Mordechai was not amused by Jonah figuring some way to live longer. And also by the name of the person he chose.

Accidentally got adicted to opium. Jonah didn’t realized till he skipped bodies becuase he was sure he could stop anytime he wanted.

The only time Jonah travelled out of England - to the world expo in Paris in 1989 (“oh it will be probably lame not as cool as ours”). He realized he did not get over his seasickness and fear of ocean by skipping a body way too late.

He met his death at age 47 becuase he got plenty of enemies and also there started to be several rumors about him. Also the opium addiction. Overall Jonah did not treat this body very well - yes, bodies are disposable but he is still living in them...

Jonah made the death look like a murder and framed one of his enemies for it.

Edward Lyon

Edward was boring looking librarian of the Magnus Institute who cared more about books than he cared about people

Body snatched at age of 34

Everyone wrote off Edward’s sudden change of personality as power getting into his head

Jonah establisehed closer relantionship with the Lukas family again - through the dullest person ever, Thomas Lukas

Went back to meticulously researching the rituals and haven’t stopped since

Died at the age of 64, written off as a heart attact (but for real Jonah just wanted to enjoy 1920′s as a young man)

Augustus Moore

Served in the WWI and after it ended he´was seeking a new life in London and decided to give a statement to the Magnus Institute where he caught the eye of the Head of the institute who offered him a job in the artifact storage

Jonah was jeallous of Augustus being young and having fun so he took over his body at 28 even though he previously planned to wait a bit longer

Around year 1929 he shortly reconnected with Thomas Lukas (who never figured out that he is the same person as Edward or Jonah Magnus - no matter how many not even subtle hints he was giving him)

Spent most of the WW2 hidden in the tunnels scared for his life institute (”Did I miss a Slaughter ritual?”)

During the great fog in 1952 got scared that there was succesfull Lonely ritual

Because there was way too many fog problems in London he decided to skip bodies in 1965 just to be prepared if there was really some ritual

Died at age 65 in a fire, absolutely unrelated to the conflict Jonah was having with the cult of the lightless flame at the moment

Richard Mendelson

Worked in the Library, double faced, acted nice to everyone but behind their back tried to discredit them to make himself look better

At last he got his promotion (to Head of the institute) at age 33

To Jonah’s dismay Mendelson turned out to be lactose intolerant (no cakes for Jonah :( )

This time he did not come to Lukas but Lukas came to him and boy was he disapointed, Nancy Lukas turned out to be real pain in the ass

Made a wagger with Nancy wether woman can be the Archivist and survive at least 10 years on such position (almost no archivist actually did) - unfortunatley the chosen Archivist was no one else but Gertrude Robinson herself

Unfortunately met his end at age of 47 in a car crash (because Jonah really wanted an icecream and cheese without consequences)

This only fed the rummors about the position of the head of the institute being cursed by Jonah Magnus himself (technically they were not wrong...)

James Wright

Filling clerk at the research department, unhappy, divorced and lonely man with past alcohol adiction problems

Body snatched at age 45, Jonah wanted much younger body of a man who he thouht was named Robert, turns out his name really was just “Bob” and he coudn’t have that

Turned out James had kids, one of them tried to reconect with their absent fater. Jonah was not very happy about it.

In 1989 met with Peter Lukas

Since he couldn’t have alcohol, he wanted to try opium again (moderately this time) and was shocked that it was illegal, so he turned to smoking and cake

Staged his death at age 68 as a suicide

Elias Bouchard

Worked at the artifact storrage

Jonah took his body sooner than previously planned because Elias wanted to get some horrendous tattoo

Jonah threw away all his clothes...but he kept the funny weed socks

Til his end in the Spiral Michael Shelley never figured out why his friend started to act so weirdly (Jonah had it as his side hobby to induce the paranoia in him by acting like the good old Elias to him from time to time)

Peter was very much not amused by this little stunt of Jonah Magnus

Stabbed by his Archivist to death while he was crying like a little bitch he is

𝙁𝙚𝙬 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙇𝙪𝙠𝙖𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙅𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙝 𝙈𝙖𝙜𝙣𝙪𝙨

Mordechai Lukas

Already quite rich and well etabilished in the society

Owns a shipping company, which is later the only reason why he still interacts with people

Met with Jonah on gentleman business meeting, they were introduced to each other by Barnabas on Jonah’s demand

To Jonah’s disgust he got married when he was in his early forties

Around 1830s decided to disappear from the society completely only getting ocasionally annoyed by Jonah

After meeting William Bennett he decided that one lifetime with Jonah was enough and dissapeared into the Lonely forever (as you do)

Thomas Lukas

Mordechai’s possible grandson/grandnephew

Rising child lonely at it’s peak

Already married and with few kids when he met Edward. He heard that cheating partner makes one feel very lonely...

Unlike the other lonely avatars Jonah ever encountered this one was trully indifferent towards anything, driving Jonah mad by rarely showing any reaction

Had a brief relationship with both Edward and Augustus however never caught Jonah’s hints who he really is and just assumed that these eyevatars are all kinda the same

Nancy Lukas

The great pain in Mendelson’s ass

Neither impressed nor charmed by him

Regularly calls him out on his bullshit (sexism)

Lonely feminist - believes that independce for women will make everyone more lonely so she supports it

Calls Mendelson “Dick” because that’s indeed short version of Richard

Slightly intriqued by Gertrude Robinson (what a beautiful loneliness right there)

Peter Lukas

First Lukas after Mordechai who really intrigued Jonah

Originally started an affair with Wright because he thought it nice and lonely to be with someone old, who will soon die (boy was he surprised)

Except the train documentaries his guilty pleasure are also romantic movies with tragic ending (Titanic my beloved)

Actually figured it out on his own who Jonah Magnus is(because of course he wanted to play this game again with this fresh new Lukas)

Anyway both @trustworthy-liar and I still have plenty of headcannons about Jonah and all of his bodies (especially the oc ones) so you can probably expect more detailed posts with thorough biography of every single one of them in the future.

Just to be clear most of the dates as well as all the funfacts are really just our made up headcannons. We didn’t bother writing here some of the cannon events but they are marked on the well-arranged timeline.

#Did we waste our time by thinking way too much about Jonah Magnus and creating way too many headcannon about him?#Yes yes we did and we regret nothing...#Also I apologize for missing date of death on Elias' plate my gf is still in denial #Anyway yeah we still have plenty of thoughts and we will keep making it your problem as well #Or not you dont have to read this #tma #tma ocs #jonah magnus oc bodies #jonah magnus #all the lives of jonah magnus #elias bouchard #james wright #richard mendelson #lonelyeyes #all the more controversial headcannons (because trans jonah) will be in the future posts #mEye post #mEye jonah take

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winetae · 4 years

Text

wall to wall (m.) 02

— female reader x hoseok

— smut, porn star!au

— sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification, role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, anal sex, sex toys, face fucking, double penetration, erotic massages, humiliation, degradation, porn star type dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lots of cum (and oil!)

— 19.7k

…

Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman.

Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

↳ or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action! collab : )

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | part 2 is finally here ! ! ty to jordan who has encouraged me literally every step of the way and to ella for supplying a never ending amount of hoseok gifs and pics when i most needed it :’) i’m sorry again for cutting the chapter into two parts but seeing as this entire chunk only amounted to 1/3 of my outline for part two it’s safe to say i would have never finished this fic otherwise ;;

(!) if you are particularly sensitive to humiliation/ degradation then maybe u should skip the smut scene bc jdjffjkfkddkd cries in tears of heaux

SCENE 03 - PULP FRICTION. TAKE 02. ROLL A.

It’s hard to guess how a project will be perceived by the general public. Sometimes a xxx feature film everyone believed would do well sells less than expected, and with online pirating becoming such a rampant and common occurrence, it’s harder to measure the impact of your work. Views and numbers are no longer a reliable indicator of one’s popularity. You’re lucky that you’re signed under such a big talent agency because at least you’re guaranteed regular paychecks, regardless of how well you perform. But to survive in this industry you’re conscious that you need more than that.

According to Seokjin and his expert advice, fans are the ones who will keep an adult entertainer’s career afloat for longer than the average six months. It doesn’t matter how good-looking or well endowed an actor is; if fans aren’t interested and invested, there’s a slim chance that they’ll pay money from their own pockets to view your work. And in order to build such a strong and dedicated fan base, you need one of several things: regular content and an active social media account.

It’s a careful line to tread; not enough online interaction can make people lose interest, but so can overexposure.

You’re patiently waiting for what Seokjin baptizes “The Big Breakthrough” - the decisive project that will propel you into superstardom. None of your videos have ever garnered that type of traction, however, and you’ve been stuck repeating the same old recycled scenarios of plumbers/pizza delivery boys coming over to get the fuck of their life.

When your latest video is uploaded online, you do your best to steer clear from social media. As much as you want to see what people think of your performance, it’s too nerve-wracking to deal with on an empty stomach. You know that if you begin scrolling through the comments, you’ll spend all day glued to your phone, constantly refreshing the page to check for feedback.

And while you aren’t the type of person who lets negative opinions affect your morale, you are nonetheless worried that your time in the industry is about to run out. Lately, the thought lingers ominously in the corners of your mind.

In times like these, exercise is one of the best distractions, second to maybe sex.

Pia, the yoga instructor, walks you through several routines, bending your body this way and that, until your head feels pleasantly blank, devoid for once of any stress and self-doubt. The hour long hot yoga class puts your overthinking mind to rest. In that moment even the notion of time ceases to matter.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

The instructor turns off his meditation playlist while the room empties out, soft chattering replacing the chirping of birds and the sound of cascading water. Slowly, mind still fuzzy around the edges, you gather your belongings and head straight to the vending machine to get a much needed dose of caffeine.

As you dig around the contents of your purse for spare change, someone comes up from behind and taps your shoulder.

“Eep!” You catch your bag before it can slip from your grasp. “What—”

“Shit, sorry!”

When you spin around, hands clutched protectively over your chest to keep your heart rate steady, you don’t expect to come face to face with Hoseok, of all people.

He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to give you a scare. I, um, recognized you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”

Now that the initial shock has faded, you’re free to admire the sight in front of you without any distractions.

As handsome as Hoseok looks under the bright studio lights with his hair styled and make-up applied, there’s something undeniably appealing about the way he appears now - with his hair mussed up and sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips. While you normally prefer someone who puts more effort into their appearance, there’s something attractive and unpretentious about his casual demeanor that intrigues you.

Heat surges to the apple of your cheeks when you realize that you’re being too blatant with your ogling. Your eyes settle on his face - a safe zone, one that won’t cause any misunderstandings. It’s a nice sight to look at. Hoseok’s face is pretty, the absence of powder and contour not taking away from his handsomeness in the least. His skin glows in a way that can only be achieved post-workout or after an intense orgasm.

This train of thought brings you down a slippery slope. All too soon, your mind supplies images of his long cock filling you up over and over and over again, his lips whispering praise and filth in the same breath. Your gaze flits to his mouth as you recall how red and swollen they’d been after kissing you senseless, how sticky and wet they’d felt against your own, the taste of your own succulence bleeding into your mouth as your breaths intermingled.

“You’re - yes.” You clear your throat, embarrassed by the way you’d quickly let your thoughts spiral out of control. “It’s fine, you just - caught me off guard. How’ve you been?”

Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.

“Just finished teaching a class a few minutes ago. I’ve got a 30 minute break before the next one starts.” He checks his watch. “Well, eleven minutes now.”

“You teach here?” You raise your brows, taken aback by his revelation.

Not that it isn’t uncommon for adult entertainers to work two jobs - or more. You’ve run into a variety of cases since joining the industry. Some do porn on the side, as a hobby or as a way to make a quick buck. They quit the moment porn becomes tedious or when they’ve made enough money to pay back their loans. For you, however, it’s not like that. What started off as amateur cam work has now become your whole life. You can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means going against your family members’ wishes. They could go suck on a rancid cock, for all you cared.

“Yep, sure do. I teach the morning Pilates class on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Funny how I’ve never run into you before, huh?”

He takes a few coins out of his left pocket and inserts them into the vending machine. “Here, get whatever you want.”

“You don’t—”

“My treat.”

You want to argue but Hoseok’s too beguiling for his own good. It doesn’t take much for you to be won over; Hoseok’s smile widens and you’re a goner.

It’s that easy.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve seen each other naked before or if the earlier yoga session has successfully weakened your defenses, but you’re not as wary as you usually would be around people you don’t know well. Distrust runs in your veins yet something about Hoseok has you lowering your guard.

Based on your observations, there’s nothing calculated behind his gestures and mannerisms. The blinding grin, the jokes, the way people easily get pulled into his magnetic field - it’s not a facade or an act or a fluke. It’s just the way he is.

Hoseok leans against the vending machine and watches you press in the numbers for your order. From the corner of your eye, you see him studying your profile with a degree of intensity that makes you self-conscious. You swallow down the urge to fidget.

And it’s - silly. He’s seen you bare and at your most exposed, has kissed and touched the entirety of your body from head to toe, but this quiet moment feels strangely intimate, more so than when he’d slid his cock inside of you for the first time. Perhaps it’s due to the absence of cameras and prying eyes or the knowledge that right now you’re both real people, stripped of your porn star persona exterior.

Your eyes meet.

There’s nothing predatory or hungry about his gaze. The passion and the love he’d expressed so naturally during your filmed scenes are no longer detectable. Right now he’s Jung Hoseok, not a character with a role to play. This is all him - the dark circles, the relaxed smile, the slight slouch in his shoulders.

“About—” He clears his throat. “About the other day. The guy that was with you...”

You know without needing clarification who and what he’s talking about. You run your tongue across your row of teeth, wiping away the cheap coffee’s aftertaste, and nod for him to continue.

“He give you a hard time?” Hoseok’s eyes don’t stray from yours. He looks concerned. Serious. “Afterwards I - I regretted leaving so soon. I didn’t want to - I wasn’t sure. But, regardless, I should have made sure you were okay before leaving you alone with him.”

“Oh.”

Realization sinks in. Your eyes widen and you splutter, flustered. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. Jimin - he’s my boyfriend.”

It’s hard to appreciate the concern when all you feel is shocked that someone could misinterpret your relationship for a perverted staff member preying on an unsuspecting porn actress. Although it’s unfortunately common practice in the industry, it’s so far removed from what you share with Jimin that you’re at a loss for words.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Hoseok immediately rubs his face in embarrassment. “I thought - sorry. I’m a dumbass. Ignore me.”

“It’s -” You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

An awkward silence ensues.

You occupy the void by sipping on the bitter vending machine coffee, your eyes glued to your toenails peeking out the top of your sandals. Any other time, you’d fret over the chipping nail polish and rush to schedule an appointment at the nail salon, but your thoughts are so jumbled up that you can barely string a coherent sentence together.

Jimin - he isn’t anything like what Hoseok’s implying. Implied. You know this. But the fact that someone could mistake him as such doesn’t sit right with you. You want to defend him but at the same time you don’t know what to say.

“I just,” he sighs, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen it happen before. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. I guess I’m too paranoid for my own good. I hope I didn’t offend you too much. Or him.”

“No - I’m - I understand.” You give him a small smile to let him know you don’t harbor any ill feelings over the mistake. Hoseok seems so genuinely sorry about the entire situation that it’s impossible to hold it against him.

It’s possible, you think. To misinterpret your relationship with Jimin. The situation back then had been so tense - you remember that better than anyone. Given the context, Hoseok had every right to be mistrustful, especially when no one had bothered to set the record straight.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“There’s no harm done.” You hesitate before continuing, “I’m that way too, you know. I tend to think the worst of people when I probably shouldn’t. I thought - I was worried about you at first, too. When we met. Not because - it wasn’t anything against you personally. I’m just distrustful. But I’m glad - that it was you and not someone else.”

His posture relaxes. “Thank you. I’m glad that it was you, too. And that I was able to prove you wrong about me. With the shit you hear and see happening on set… I don’t blame you for being on your guard.”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll - oh. I think someone’s calling you.”

Hoseok follows your line of sight to where a small group of his students are huddled behind the glass panel separating the Pilates classroom from the hallway leading down to the changing rooms. They’re all female and look around your age, maybe younger. The one who had been waving her arms wilts under the attention of her teacher, blush high on her cheeks, while her group of friends dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Ah. That’s my cue.” Hoseok sighs in apology, the corner of his lips tugged downwards into a pout. “Sorry. Would’ve loved to get coffee and catch up but alas. Duty calls.”

“Next time.”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll hold you up to that. And it’ll be proper coffee next time! Promise.”

“Okay, deal,” you agree easily. “I’ll buy.”

He looks somewhat offended. “What - no, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s only fair.” You gesture at the half-empty plastic coffee cup still warm against your palm.

Hoseok opens his mouth to object but a short-haired woman pokes his head out the open door. “Yo, teach! Wasn’t class supposed to start five minutes ago?”

“I’m coming!” Hoseok shouts back, waving his student back inside. “Arrogant brat.”

“Go, go!” You urge, holding yourself from physically pushing him towards the classroom. His group of students look like they’re willing to jump you if you keep hogging his attention.

“We’ll Rock Paper Scissors it!” He says while jogging backwards. “Gotta run but see you around, yeah?”

Your lips pull into an amused smile as you watch him retreat back to his classroom. Through the glass panel, you can see the horde of girls flock around him, each vying for his attention in different ways. You’re especially impressed by how one almost succeeds in drowning Hoseok in her generous cleavage.

The sight of Hoseok dealing with thirsty college girls is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You’re tempted to attend one of his classes just to watch them all trip over each other in an attempt to seduce him. Maybe you could even learn a thing or two.

With that thought in mind, you leave the gym center in high spirits, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle on whatever hurdles the day decides to throw your way. You hum along to a top 40 hit they constantly play on the radio and decide to stop by your favorite restaurant to get take-out before heading home.

As you get into your car, you turn on your phone you’d disregarded all morning and are immediately notified of five missed calls and several unread text messages. More than half are - unsurprisingly - from your agent. You’re tempted to ignore him for an hour or two longer but you know how he gets once his patience runs thin.

“Don’t tell me you were out with Jimmy again,” Seokjin groans once you decide to call him back.

“I was with Hoseok, actually.”

“Hoseok?” Seokjin instantly perks up on the other side of the line. “As in, Jung Hoseok? J-Hope? Your baby daddy? That Hoseok?”

You contemplate ending the call.

Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”

“Oooooh. Do tell,” he eggs, the smugness in his tone so thick that you can visualize it.

“It wasn’t - whatever scandalous thought you’re thinking. He works at the gym I go to. What are the chances, right?”

“What are the chances indeed.” Despite the lack of juicy gossip, he sounds pleased. “The news I rang you for earlier involves him.”

“How so?”

“Your video with Hoseok has been the number 1 trending video on Bang Gang’s home page since this morning!” He squeals, enthusiasm making the volume of his voice raise by a notch. “People are eating that romantic insemination stuff for breakfast and lunch. The views on this are insane! We haven’t gotten such a big reaction since the Agust D teacher-student role play and that was ages ago.”

“Wh- Are you serious?!”

Unable to contain the elation that surges through your chest, your face breaks out into a giant grin.

You’re admittedly the first to say that the number of views doesn’t equate to one’s talent or prowess in bed, but you also can’t completely disregard what this particular achievement implies...

While belonging to a reputable agency has its perks, it also entails continuous competition with big names. Your coworkers are also your competitors. Every month the most successful porn stars are rewarded and praised, whilst the ones who rake in the least amount of views are cast aside and are fated to fade into anonymity.

As much as you hate to acknowledge it, you’ve never had the support or interest it takes to contend for 1st place on any popularity polls or rankings of the sort. On Wednesdays, it so happens that the number one trending video spot is usually occupied by a popular femdom porn star who’s been in the game long enough to have secured a loyal fanbase.

Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.

“Yes, I’m serious! I think this is It, you know? Your Big Breakthrough, the moment we’ve been waiting for. You’ve been doing well so far but I think we’ll be able to go mainstream with this,” he chatters on, excitement building with every word. “Director Ryu said he’d personally call you up later to congratulate you, so don’t turn off your phone and ignore your calls, okay? I think he wants to ask you to film in his next movie but he didn’t discuss the details with me. Whatever it is - please say yes. I know the guy is a little pompous old fart but he really has an eye for this sort of thing. Casting you and Hoseok in the same film was the work of God. The chemistry between the two of you is unreal, no wonder people are jacking off to this at 10 am while they eat their cereal.”

You think it’s too early to rejoice in the success of your video considering the majority of the viewers are sleeping or busy at work - but when THE SPERMINATOR retains its number one ranking for the remainder of the week, you know your achievement deserves to be properly celebrated.

True to Seokjin’s word, Director Ryu does end up calling you. He wants to work with you and Hoseok again for a new film - and possibly more.

“A multi-film contract? You want to sign one with me?”

“How could I not? You’re both naturals and work well together. More importantly, the camera loves you. And people are on board with the pairing already! I think it’s a good idea to capitalize on their interest, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t take much more to convince you — not that you need any convincing at this point.

You refuse to be a flash-in-the-pan star. Although you admittedly had your reservations at first, the unexpected success of the last film is all Ryu needs to persuade you.

And - you like Hoseok. It goes without saying that there are far worse people to be partnered up with. Besides, it’s easier to work with co-stars you’ve starred in movies with previously for multiple reasons. Your acting is much more likely to come off as natural if you’re already acquainted with the dick that’s about to split you open - at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

When you mention the possibility of working again with Hoseok, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share your enthusiasm.

“So it’s not a one time thing?” He’s not looking at you directly, his attention fixed instead on the freshly brewed coffee he nurses in his hands.

“I mean—” You smile tentatively. “Director Ryu hasn’t said for how long he’ll keep hiring us for his projects. Maybe - maybe he’ll keep the format and hire different actors in the future? He - he didn’t really say. I don’t think he has much of an idea himself. He’s very...peculiar.”

You force out a laugh, but your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere falls flat.

“I see.” Jimin brings the coffee cup to his mouth to hide his grimace.

You don’t need to see his dejected expression to know that he isn’t pleased with this development.

“Do you - is there something wrong with Hoseok?” You hesitate, unsure of how he’ll reply.

Jimin’s never insisted you step down from a project before or expressed his dissatisfaction with any of your ‘artistic choices’, although you always imagined that someday, somewhere down the line, he might. Compared to your past dalliances, Jimin is understanding and empathetic. You don’t expect him to be perfect, however, especially when you yourself are far from that. Everyone must have their own personal limits, right? It’s unfair to ask Jimin to be accepting all the time.

It’s just that...the timing is bad.

You want to take his feelings into consideration, but you’re also aware that this might be your last opportunity to get your name out there once and for all. Your previous works have never tanked, so to speak, but they’d mostly gone by unnoticed. While you’ve managed to make ends meet in the past, such anonymity cannot go on for much longer if you want to remain in this line of work.

Your lipstick wears off as you bite your lower lip. Silence hangs heavy in the air.

Jimin sets down his cup of coffee and averts his gaze.

“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with him.”

You breathe out in relief, only now realizing you’d been holding in your breath as you awaited his answer.

“It’s a bit difficult,” he admits after a pause. “Watching both of you together... Not because it’s bad! You did really good last time. You always do, but - saying ‘I love you’, that kind of stuff, it’s - I don’t know. It’s not your fault, though! I just need some time to adjust. Next time shouldn’t be as strange - since I know what to expect...”

You blink slowly as your brain registers the confession. His words echo in your ears and a strong feeling of déjà-vu washes over you. He’d said something along those lines before, hadn’t he?

Jimin shrugs like it’s no big deal before continuing, “As for Hoseok... He seems like a good person, I guess. I don’t think he’s the problem. Whether it’s him or another guy...” He sighs. “I think I just need to work this out on my own. It’s not like I can ask you to turn down a job offer because of me, right?”

Guilt makes your stomach turn. He’s right. As much as you want to respect his feelings, you can’t bring yourself to turn down the job for his sake. Does that make you selfish? Does he think less of you for it?

“Alright...” When you reach out to take his hand in yours, his skin is surprisingly cold to the touch. “You’ll tell me if it ever bothers you, okay? Filming this - or anything else. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with what I do...”

You’re not sure what you’ll do if that moment ever comes to pass. Work is your number one priority in life. Many of your relationships haven’t worked out because of that very reason but your past lovers’ dissatisfaction hadn’t been enough to change your mindset. After all, work is what helps put money on the table, not love. You shake your head, as if the action will help you get rid of your stressful thoughts.

Jimin nods as he interlaces his fingers with yours. On normal days, holding hands together puts your mind at rest. You love the way his hand fits in yours, the different skin tones blending into one.

Right now, his pale hand feels unnaturally cold against your own. It feels like winter itself is embracing you and you repress a shiver.

Maybe as his girlfriend it’s not the right choice to make, but — you can’t falter now. It physically pains you to admit it but Seokjin’s worrying isn’t unfounded. Your career is stagnant, your projects predictable and boring. You’re not bad at your job, but you don’t stand out amidst the sea of pretty girls hoping to make a name for themselves.

There’s no guarantee that Director Ryu’s new project will be as successful as the first. You’re no stranger to false hopes; there’s a chance that Seokjin’s wishful thinking might never amount to anything. Even so, you want to give it a shot. Not trying feels too much like giving up and giving up is not an option you’re willing to consider, not when you’ve already put so much on the line.

You’re not a quitter. Seokjin had warned you from day one that it wouldn’t be easy and you’d taken his lessons and warnings to heart. You’d become an adult entertainer fully aware of the trials and tribulations you’d have to face and had been prepared to make the necessary sacrifices in order to achieve your goals.

But are the risks truly worth it? Looking at Jimin’s dejected expression, you’re not so sure anymore.

They’ve really gone all out this time, you muse as you cast a cursory glance at your surroundings. A small, electric waterfall fountain sits in the far right corner and crimson colored scented candles are dispersed all around the elaborate massage parlor set-up, dousing the room in a cosy, amber glow. It’s a surprising sight because porn sets are famous for never focusing on the details. Viewers are here for the sex, not the generic backdrop of a rented room or hotel suite.

Director Ryu vehemently protests.

“That’s precisely what sets apart my works from your average pornography film. I want the viewer to be completely immersed in the movie they’re watching. Porn is too constricting and underwhelming a word. What I’m creating is a feast for the eyes, one that leaves a lasting impression after consumption.”

“Ah... Yes.” You try (and fail) to sound impressed.

“People want to believe the sex is real, even if it’s just for an hour.” He sighs deeply, sounding pained, like explicating such a simple fact isn’t worthy of his time. “They need the escape and it’s our job to make it happen. A few extra candles might not make a colossal difference at first glance. But that’s where you’re wrong! It’s never been about the candles. It’s about the ambiance! The visual experience!”

It’s a pity the new budget doesn’t extend to your wardrobe, you remark internally as your gaze drops to observe the stylists’ pick of the day.

For the upcoming scene, you’ve been instructed to squeeze into a tight, baby pink shirt that stretches obscenely over your bust like something straight out of a frat boy’s wet dream. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for hitting the gym religiously because your clothes—or lack thereof—put everything on display. The cotton material of your shirt is so thin, you’re surprised the stitches haven’t popped out, while the denim bottoms you sport are so tiny that you could hardly qualify them as shorts. Although—you suppose that there isn’t any use debating over semantics. It’s not as if they’ll stay on long enough for it to matter.

The scenario that you’ll be acting out today is pretty straight-forward. You stop by the parlor to cash in a voucher gifted by a generous and thoughtful friend. Hoseok, who plays the role of an erotic masseuse, gives you a deep tissue body massage worthy of a five star review on Yelp.

Director Ryu is extremely proud of the pitch. His spectacles glint as he pushes them up the bridge of his long nose.

“We’re gonna call it My Bare Lady. Haha, get it?” He gloats. “It’ll be different from our last shoot - the both of you aren’t supposed to be acquainted with each other at all. In fact, there won’t be any romance. We’re aiming for something new because as artists, it’s our duty to reinvent ourselves every day. Complacency is the enemy of creativity.”

At the mention of Hoseok, your gaze flits over in his direction.

His brown hair, two shades lighter than the last time you’d run into him, is swept to the side, giving him a professional and tidy appearance. He’s swapped his workout attire for beige scrub pants and a matching shirt. The color compliments the glow of his tan and the cut of the uniform is flattering to his figure. Diretor Ryu’s speech continues despite your wavering focus.

“—visual stimulation. That’s why one shouldn’t underestimate the proper use of props. A believable setting sets the tone for the rest of the scene. If you don’t believe the role you’ve been given, then why should the audience?”

“Mhm,” you nod here and there but you’ve long stopped paying attention to his one-sided speech.

Your eyes linger on Hoseok’s arms and the dimples that appear every time he laughs. You’re not the only one who stares. A small group of admirers flock to him like bees swarming around a rare and exotic flower.

You’d noticed it before but today confirms it; Hoseok’s presence is riveting. It’s not the first time today your gaze has strayed his way. More than once, you find your eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame only to quickly avert your gaze whenever your eyes meet. Each time, the right side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile, the beginning of a question forming on his lips.

It’s embarrassing to be caught red-handed gawking but, in your defense, you aren’t the only one who ogles him—and many of them are far less discreet than you try to be, some gazes curious, others downright lecherous.

It bothers you. What exactly do you and everyone else find so fascinating about his character? He’s good-looking, sure—but you’re no stranger to handsome and pretty co-stars with nicely shaped dicks. You can’t put a finger on what sets him apart from the rest.

The gaffer comes over and momentarily interrupts the flow of Director Ryu’s monologue with a personal inquiry. Thank God. You use the opportunity to slip away, grateful that someone has put an end to your misery. As thankful as you are to the director for the career opportunity, you could do without his long-winded speeches that never seem to end.

“Hey, Hoseok.”

His smile widens, the corners dimpling the moment he spots you. “Hey! It’s been a while. Who would’ve thought we’d get to work again so soon, huh?”

“I didn’t think our last movie would do so well, honestly.”

Without its success, who knows what kind of movie you’d be participating in right now? Another re-hashed version of ‘BABYSITTER GETS CREAMED’ type scenario, most probably.

“I guess that’s a testament to your acting skills, right?”

You smile back, sheepish but nevertheless pleased. It always feels nice to be complimented, especially on days like today when you’re feeling less confident than usual.

“You changed up your hair.”

“Yeah! I thought I needed a change.” He threads his fingers through his locks self-consciously. “It looks fine, right?”

“It does!” you agree with an enthusiastic nod.

Jimin, who had insisted to be present on set today, hovers on the edge of your periphery. In the back of your mind you know he means well—that his presence is meant to be a source of support and security. On a typical day, you’re relieved that someone you trust is close by in case the situation escalates. While you’ve never had any horrific experiences, there have been the occasional uncomfortable encounters behind the scenes. Thankfully, Seokjin or Jimin have always stepped in before whichever entitled asshat could get too handsy.

But for the first time, his presence doesn’t comfort you the way it usually does.

Your smile becomes stiff.

The last thing you want is for Jimin to misunderstand the situation... Despite his claims of not having any problems with you shooting again with Hoseok, you can’t forget the stony expression on your boyfriend’s face as he had stared your co-star down, his grip around your waist strong and possessive.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok inquires, noticing your change in attitude. Worry creases his brow. He takes a step forward as if to check up on you.

“I’m okay!” You wave your hands around in the air, if only to maintain the distance separating your figures.

Despite your energetic reassurances, Hoseok looks unconvinced. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concern.

You wrack your head for an acceptable excuse. “Maybe I have pre-performance jitters? It’s nothing serious, though!”

It’s not too far from the truth, either. You feel more nervous than usual... Maybe because you’re aware that today’s shoot will most likely make or break your career. If the results prove to be disappointing, you don’t want to imagine what that means for your future.

You shake your head, refusing to accept any talks of early retirement.

But what other choice will you have, your inner voice argues. If no one is interested in viewing your works, no production company will want to book you for their movies. Even if you’re able to shoot half a dozen films after this failed attempt, the interest and support from viewers and higher-ups will soon dry up.

Hoseok’s features soften.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but if my opinion means anything... I think you’re really amazing.” His deep brown eyes reflect sincerity. “I haven’t had this much fun performing with anyone before and it’s not just ‘cos you’re fucking hot.” He laughs to cover up his embarrassment. “Maybe it’s a bit of a reach to compare the two, but porn is a bit like dancing in a way. There’s a choreography to follow, a certain rhythm and mood you have to get into. But the most important part is the chemistry and trust between you and your partner. And you - when I perform with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m acting at all. Not many people have that ability. For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special.”

“T-thanks,” you stutter in reply, taken aback by his candor. “I appreciate that.”

You’re not the only one caught off-guard by Hoseok’s frankness. He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles to fill up the momentary lapse in conversation. A bashful smile inches its way across his face, but surprisingly he doesn’t break eye contact.

You quickly change subjects, unwilling to acknowledge the slight fluttering in your stomach.

“...So, you dance?”

It’s not the smoothest transition, but Hoseok’s face instantly lights up.

“Yes! I mean,” he pauses and clears his throat. “Not professionally. I minored in dance. But it’s something I definitely enjoy, you know, to blow off some steam. Ah, wait a sec—”

He takes out his phone to show you short video clips of his dancing. He pulls up his instagram account and scrolls through an eclectic mix of mirror selfies showcasing his bold fashion choices, dog pics, and videos of him working out and dancing.

“Here’s a recent one.”

You don’t know much about dance but in spite of your little knowledge in the subject, your eyes stay transfixed on the screen in front of you. “Whoa...”

The way he moves is enthralling, for lack of a better word. You know from experience that his body is flexible and agile, lithe and strong, but seeing it in action like this leaves you speechless, momentarily robbed of coherency. You can’t even describe it. His execution of the choreography is sharp and powerful, yet his body doesn’t look rigid. On the contrary, his movements are surprisingly fluid and he never misses a single beat. You watch in astonishment as he pushes himself off of his knees after bending backwards in one fell swoop.

“Eh? Is it even possible to move your body that way?” Surely if you try to mimic him, you’ll look like a flailing chicken. “That can’t be safe...”

Hoseok laughs at your shocked expression. “It takes a lot of practice. You should come to a workshop one day! My friend teaches beginners. He’d be glad if you could join. The more the merrier, right? You don’t need to know any of the basics... And if you’re worried about people poking fun—don’t. Dancing isn’t a competition or anything.”

“I dunno.” You hand him back his phone after watching the video loop back for a second time. “I think my back would crack if I attempted any of that.”

“I think you would do really well! You’re pretty flexible and I don’t think you need to worry about stamina. Your core muscles are also really well developed. Based on what I’ve seen, you have a good sense of balance and beat awareness, so even if you’ve never danced before, you have the body and disposition for it.”

“Well... I guess I—”

“Hey.” Jimin interrupts, plump lips curved into a polite smile. You try not to let your surprise show; you hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He kisses your cheek and slides his hand into yours, clasping it between his own. “Sorry to interrupt, doll. Seokjin wanted to have a word with you before the shoot.”

“Oh.” You blink, your eyes darting back and forth between Jimin and Hoseok. “Um...if you don’t mind?”

“That’s straight,” Hoseok steps back, shoving his hands down his pockets. He shoots you a tentative smile. “I’ll catch you later.”

You feel bad for ditching him mid-conversation after he’d been so nice, but you know how annoying your agent can get when ignored for too long.

Jimin’s fingers tighten around yours. When you look up, he’s pouting, his lips pursed and brows drawn together.

“Is something on your mind?”

You can see the hesitation flicker across his face. When he finally meets your gaze, his expression is troubled.

“It’s nothing...” He looks away again and the grip he has on your hand loosens.

“Hm.” You swallow down any further inquiries, worried you’ll upset him.

“What was that about, anyway?” he asks casually, trying his best to look uninterested. “You and Hoseok look like you’re getting along well.”

“Yeah.” The memory of your previous conversation makes you smile softly despite yourself. “He’s a nice guy.”

“I can imagine.” Jimin mutters under his breath. Before you have time to question him again, he straightens his spine, his features twisting into an apologetic expression. “Look, I gotta help setting up the cameras. I’ll see you after the shoot.”

“Ah... Alright.” You fight to keep the disappointment of your face. Since you only have a few minutes before filming begins, you’d been hoping to spend it with him.

As if reading your mind, Jimin leans in and kisses you, his plush lips soft and familiar against your own. You expect him to pull away after a few seconds but his left hand slots itself behind your neck, bringing you in closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand angles your head to the side, giving him more access, and he doesn’t waste any time before brushing his tongue against the roof of your mouth.

You respond to the kiss as if on auto-pilot, but your thoughts are all jumbled in your head. Jimin’s always been a good kisser but he’s rarely kissed you quite like this. His style is more of a slow-burn, the kind that slowly creeps up on you and leaves your whole body numb with pleasure. Every press of his lips feels like a silent prayer of worship and each swipe of his tongue tastes like adoration. You like that he takes his time, like you’re not just a quick meal to curb his hunger but a delicacy worthy of being savored.

Right now, this kiss feels unfamiliar. Urgency replaces devotion. Perhaps it’s because he’s short on time, but his touch is hurried and sloppy. He bites your lower lip, hard enough for it to hurt, and licks into your mouth when you mewl out a gasp of surprise.

“I wish I could just mark you up,” he pants against your parted lips. They feel tender when you smack them closed.

“The makeup artist is going to strangle you for messing up my lipstick.” You fake a scowl. You’re not half-wrong, though. Once she sees how swollen they’ve become she’s bound to take out her frustration on the closest available victim. “If you marked me for real, she’d probably kill you. Don’t tempt her.”

He chuckles and pulls back, letting his hands fall to his side. His eyes dart to somewhere behind your shoulder, his smile curving into a smirk.

“You’re right.” He sighs, looking back at you. “But that’s easier said than done. You’re hard to resist... Anyone would agree.”

Something dark clouds his eyes but whatever it is, it’s gone in the next blink.

You laugh, pleased nonetheless by his flattery. “Didn’t you say you had to help set up? You’re going to end up in trouble because of me…”

Jimin snorts but backs up all the same. “Don’t worry about me. Besides, you’re worth getting in trouble for.”

Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”

When you whirl around, your agent shoots you a disgusted glare. “I was wondering what was taking you so long but I should’ve known you two were out here fabricating babies. Have you no shame?”

“I’ll see you after the shoot!” Jimin says quickly, eager to get away from Seokjin and his sharp tongue.

“See you.” You smile sweetly, ignoring Seokjin’s grumbling. You feel a pang of jealousy as you watch him scurry out of sight. If only you could avoid Seokjin’s pre-performance motivational speeches...

“Anyways.” Seokjin looks noticeably less irritated once Jimin is gone. “I wanted to check up on you before filming could begin. How’s your ass doing?”

You don’t bother hiding your grimace. “Squeaky clean and stretched.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He sounds proud. “Don’t make that face. It’s your first anal scene after all. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?”

By ‘be prepared’ he means following a strict diet prior to shooting, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a colonic, stretching out your asshole for a good thirty minutes using a fuck ton of lube, and constantly rehydrating yourself throughout the day to the point where you’d gone to the bathroom more times than you could count on one hand.

You’re never this thorough with prep before having anal but apparently that’s the difference between fucking in the privacy of your own home and on camera.

“There’s a reason why cleanliness is one of the fundamentals of anal sex, especially when shooting porn. It’s a pain...in the ass...but this way, no one sees something they’d rather not see,” had explained Seokjin after giving you a non-exhaustive list of detailed steps to follow. You suppose there’s logic behind his reasoning. Due to the magic of 4k-quality videos, viewers can now easily see everything, down to the sweat droplets dotting your hairline and any makeup-covered skin imperfections, so you don’t want to imagine what they’ll notice once the camera zooms in on your back entrance.

“Eventually you’ll get used to squeezing water out your bum on the regular.” He shrugs. “You’ll also start to avoid certain foods on your own. The dietary restrictions aren’t that bad, all things considered, and your body will thank you for eating more spinach than you’re used to. Greens are good for your health even if they taste like yuck.”

Athough his suggestions are well-intended, you don’t need another 25 minute speech on all the know-hows of filming anal sex. The first time had been more than enough.

“Thanks for the advice!” you interject right as he opens his mouth to continue his counseling. “That reminds me I need to get this butt plug out of my ass before we start shooting.”

Seokjin sighs. “That would be preferable, yes.”

He doesn’t need to know that you’ve taken out the butt plug in the bathroom half an hour ago. Any excuse will do, as long as you’re spared from listening to his passionate discourse on the benefits of high-fibre food diets and his long list of enema tutorial video recommendations.

The fussing, you think, is unnecessary. You’re not worried about the upcoming sex scene, even if it will be the first time someone other than your partner sees you in that position. No, what troubles you is the possibility of the audience growing tired of seeing you onscreen now that they’ve witnessed you take it up the ass. Boredom is the reason why so many of your peers are forced to end their careers prematurely, after all. Why else is Seokjin so adamant about you pacing yourself and not filming everything there is to film right off the bat? You’ve always held off shooting anal, double penetration and the likes, for that very reason. Although you have no qualms with the act itself, you’re worried that you’re now one step closer to retirement.

The thoughts sit on your shoulders like a heavy weight as you get ready for the scene to come. You listen to Director Ryu’s instructions as he describes the scenario’s key points, your character’s motives, and what sex positions you should include before the scene comes to an end.

“The rest is up to you,” he says with an encouraging nod. “I want the words to come from the heart! Let yourself be a vessel, a way for your character to express their innermost desires.”

“Leave it up to us.” Hoseok’s smile radiates confidence.

“I like your enthusiasm!” Director Ryu approves, clapping his hands together. He misses the way his two leading actors exchange exasperated glances over his shoulder. “Good, then we’re all set? Remember where the cameras are positioned, please, or else we’ll have to reshoot to get the right angles.”

“Got it.” You nod, eager to get this show on the road. Between him and Seokjin, your ears are about to fall off from the incessant chattering. Even the camera men are starting to grow restless.

Speaking of... You meet Jimin’s gaze, the sides of your mouth upturning the moment you spot him. As usual, he looks slightly out of place standing between the other crew members, his white, ironed dress shirt neatly tucked into his black pants providing a stark contrast with his co-workers’ unkempt appearance.

Jimin mirrors your smile and your shoulders immediately relax. A lot of people may not understand why you’d allow your boyfriend on set while you’re fucking someone else, but his presence brings you a strange sense of comfort that’s hard to put into words.

The sound of your name being called pulls you from your line of thought.

“Can you scoot over to the right? Just a little.” Director Ryu orders while glancing at the monitor. “Yes, that’s much better. And can we fix the lighting, please? My shadow’s getting picked up by the camera.”

Now that the start of the shoot is right around the corner, your stomach cramps up with a nervous kind of anticipation. Your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth and even when you swallow, the unpleasant feeling doesn’t go away.

You clasp your hands together in your lap to hide the minute trembling of your fingers. It’s strange, you think. Ever since you started working with Hoseok, you always get too wrapped in your thoughts. Not necessarily in a bad way, at least not all the time, but --

“You all good?” Hoseok asks, low enough that the mics won’t be able to pick up his questioning. “Do you need some water?”

You shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He hesitates but doesn’t push. “I just wanna run this with you one last time. I know we already signed the consent forms but I’d feel better talking with you about the scene directly.”

“Oh.” You remember he’d done something similar last time, too. “Sure.”

“Anal aside, are you okay with the use of degrading names during the scene?” His eyes never leave yours, like he wants you to know how serious he is.

“I’m okay with you calling me a whore.” Your shoulders loosen up. It’s easy to relax when you’re on familiar territory. Working in this industry requires complete transparency. There’s no shame in discussing your kinks just like there’s no shame in admitting the acts you’re not comfortable performing. “As long as I can call you a slut.”

“That’s fine.” His lips quirk up, but not in a mocking or dismissing way. “I don’t really have any hard limits myself, except for what you’ve already seen on paper. Degradation is fine with me. Call my dick tiny all you want, I won’t take it to heart.”

You laugh, forgetting to keep the volume down. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

“So degradation is fine. Is humiliation okay as well? Situational and verbal?”

“I like that.” You bite your lower lip as you remember your encounter with Min Yoongi a month or so ago, how turned on you’d been from his words alone. “I’ll admit I haven’t dabbled too much in BDSM on the porn scene, but I enjoyed what I’ve done so far.”

“That’s good to know.” He raises his brow. “Ever since we received the pitch for today’s movie I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it, uh, more interesting. So to speak. But I didn’t want to take any initiatives if they made you uncomfortable. Oh, also I meant to ask if there was anything you wanted to include in the scene aside from anal sex.”

Somehow you’re not surprised he’s put thought into this. Last time you’d worked with him, he’d been overflowing with suggestions as well. Maybe because the previous filming formats aren’t as flexible, but it’s not often you meet someone so willing to exchange ideas before filming.

The change is more than welcome. For the first time, it feels like your opinion actually matters. The two of you quietly go back and forth discussing different possibilities while the filming crew finish setting up the set the way Director Ryu wants it.

“Alright,” Ryu calls, settling into the director’s chair. Somewhere in the background, the gaffer wipes off his brow. “Everyone ready to rooooollll?”

Hoseok takes a few steps back and reaches for a nearby clipboard.

Miraculously, you note distantly, the swarming of butterflies in your stomach is now gone. Your palms are no longer clammy and cold with perspiration. When you swallow, there’s no lump of nerves stuck in your throat.

Hoseok sends an encouraging smile your way right before Director Ryu yells “ACTION!” and he schools his features into a more polite, appropriate expression.

He doesn’t speak up right away, just walks over to where you’re sitting on the massage table in a leisurely manner. You open your mouth to fill the silence but he beats you to it.

“Welcome to Happy Ending Clinic, where we ensure every client leaves feeling 100% satisfied. We guarantee high quality services personally adapted to suit the needs of our every client,” Hoseok says in lieu of greeting, the lilt in his voice smooth and practiced, like he’s used to repeating this introduction multiple times throughout the day. “My name is J-Hope and today you will be in my care.”

“Nice to meet you.” You’re careful to keep your back ramrod straight, hoping the stiffness in your body will be picked up by the cameras.

The role you’re playing today is more reserved and awkward than the usual unabashed and bold characters you’re used to acting. And while it’s not your first time pretending to be coy and shy for the cameras, such behavior isn’t second nature.

His smile, whilst professional, radiates warmth. You suppose it’s meant to be reassuring.

“I will do my best to make this session unforgettable.”

His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.

“Hmmm... ______, is it?” When you nod in affirmation, he continues. “It says here it’s your first time visiting our establishment.”

You’re surprised at how naturally he adapts to the role he’s been assigned to. The words that roll off his tongue sound like his own.

“Yes... Honestly, I - I didn’t think it was necessary, but my friend insisted - I mean, she recommended I visit this place...said it would do me some good.”

You wring your hands in your lap. You’re lucky the character you’re playing today is supposed to be a little shy and rigid. Otherwise, you’re not sure Director Ryu would have let your awkward stuttering slide.

“That’s not a problem.” The lines of Hoseok’s mouth bend into a reassuring smile. “Let’s see... It says you’ve booked an hour-long session?”

“Yep.”

“Then with your permission, I’d like to take fifteen supplementary minutes to find out which massage course is best suited for a novice like you. It’ll be free of charge, of course.”

You nod, eager to get the show on the road. Given your character’s disposition, maybe you should have pretended to mull over the proposal for a few seconds more - if only for appearance’s sake - but you’re tired of all this talking. Impatience gets the best of you.

“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”

He pulls out several colorful mock pamphlets and hands them over for you to peruse their contents. You try not to let your astonishment show.

It’s the first time you’ve seen a prop team this devoted to their task. Although the insides of the brochures remain blank, you still can’t believe someone actually took the time to print out fake brochure covers. You appreciate the effort, even if the covers do look like they’ve been made by someone who’s looking to major in ‘graphic design is my passion.’

You hold one up at random and pretend to read through it, hoping that whoever will watch the movie later will ignore the ugly block font that spells out ‘NAUGHTY MASSAGE : FOUR HANDS EDITION.’

“Inside, you’ll find a detailed explanation on the various vegan, cruelty-free products we use. All of our treatments are oil-based and you can choose the scent of your choice. If your skin is particularly sensitive, we have essential oil-infused body butters that work just as effectively and leave the skin silky smooth to the touch. Depending on your skin type, you might be interested in testing—” He takes out several jars all while explaining the different health benefits of ylang ylang essential oil.

Once again, you’re caught off guard by his convincing performance. Even though you’ve been given several pointers by the director before filming, Hoseok is the one who ultimately calls the shots. Inwardly, you wonder how he manages to come up with such original lines on the spot. Despite not being a professional actor, Hoseok’s intuitive choices are beyond your expectations.

The thoroughness of his explanation makes your head spin. Cruelty-free products? Body butter? You have no way of knowing whether his statements are fabricated for the sake of the vague storyline - but you suppose the credibility of his words doesn’t really matter in the end. It’s the small details he sprinkles here and there that help you immerse in the scene.

His proficiency in acting makes all of your worries melt away. It’s hard to believe he’s only a rookie, just starting off his career, and not an acting veteran with dozens of movies under his belt.

Not wanting to be entirely overshadowed by your co-star, you furrow your eyebrows, determination set into your features.

“I’m sorry... I’ve never done this before. They all look the same to me.”

“Ah.” Still, Hoseok’s smile stays amiable and professional. “Well, let’s go about it this way - why do you think your friend insisted you visit our establishment?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor in order to avert his probing stare. “I - um. I haven’t had - I mean, I guess I’ve been stressed lately. More pent up than usual. I’ve tried exercising and meditating and mas- uh...well everything, honestly. But nothing seems to work. I’m snappy all the time and...frustrated.”

Today, the character you’re playing is a bit more bashful, too timid to voice her desires into spoken words. “It’s all about the tension! The build-up!” Director’s Ryu’s voice echoes in your mind as a reminder.

“I see,” Hoseok nods, taking your comments into consideration. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality of your sleep?”

“A five...” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t wake up during the night, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep.”

“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

“Pain? No, not really.” You roll your shoulders back, conscious of the way your perky chest juts out, nipples prominent through the cheap fabric. “My neck does feel sore from time to time but I think it’s because I work an office job. They say staying hunched over in front of a computer all day is bad for your health.”

His gaze roams your figure, quietly assessing. “It is.”

“May I?” he asks, taking a tentative step closer. “I think I’ll need to gauge your level of sensitivity for myself. We’ll adjust the intensity of the massage depending on how much pressure you can withstand and how your body reacts to different types of stimuli.”

Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”

“Move back a little. A bit more.” You obey his instructions without second thoughts. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Your legs dangle awkwardly over the edge of the massage table. You can probably close them if you wanted to, but you don’t miss an opportunity to expose yourself in front of the cameras. The shorts you’re wearing are more like tiny scraps of denim put together with the help of a few stitches. You’re certain that if someone were to really look, they’d see the outline of your pussy lips.

Hoseok walks around the table to stand behind you. The sensation is somewhat familiar—right away, you’re reminded of the first encounter with Hoseok, the one where he’d wrapped his arms around you and whispered words of love into your ear. You close your eyes and let the images flash by in quick succession. The memories all come rushing in at once—an artist’s lips painting your skin like a brush would canvas, a potter’s agile fingers molding your body from clay, a lyricist’s tongue composing sonnets into your weeping, open cunt. Your body remembers it all.

When he finally touches you, his hands radiate warmth the shadow of his memory does not.

A shudder runs down your spine.

Oblivious to your inner thoughts, Hoseok carefully gathers your hair into a ponytail and moves it out of the way. His mobility no longer restricted, he lets his slender digits travel down the slope of your neck, the pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders.

“You’re unusually tense here.” Concern colors his voice as he increases the pressure.

Suddenly the discomfort you’re to convey to the audience is no longer feigned. “Ow!”

The wince that mars your face is authentic. You try to wiggle out of his grasp to relieve the sharp ache in your shoulders. Hoseok’s grip is strong, however, and he keeps you exactly where he thinks you ought to be.

“Hmm...”

He massages your arms one by one. The circular movements he traces across your skin are a lot more gentle this time around, and you allow yourself to slowly relax under his touch. He manipulates your body like one would a rag doll, pulling your arm over your head.

“Can you reach behind, towards your neck? How about a little lower? You should feel a stretch here.” He taps at an arm muscle.

“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”

You suspect that Hoseok’s stunt as a Pilates instructor is what’s helping him sound so experienced and natural.

“Good.” He lets out a pleased hum. “Hold the position for as long as you can.”

His hands reach around your body to squeeze your perky breasts. You gasp at the rather rough way he handles your tits. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been told to forgo a bra, but you’re much more conscious of his every action - from the way his fingers splay out, cupping the fullness of your breasts between them, to the way he kneads your mounds with his entire palm as he gropes you from behind.

“How often do you masturbate?” he asks in an almost offhand manner, his tone is more clinical than casual. The question is crude and direct enough to distract you from the way his fingers encircle your nipples through the cotton fabric of your shirt.

You recall Ryu’s earlier directions: unlike your first movie together, this tryst is not romantic in nature. The scenario that you’re acting out this time doesn’t involve sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love. Feelings aren’t on the table.

You pretend like the bitter taste you swallow down isn’t disappointment.

“Um.” You struggle to remember the initial question. Luckily, your mental buffering comes off as bashful and true to the character you’re playing. “I, uh, I guess masturbate often?”

“But it isn’t enough, is it?”

His question comes off as slightly patronizing. Before you can formulate a suitable answer, Hoseok’s fingers tweak your hardened nipples and your back bows under the pressure. You oscillate between the desire to thrust your chest out in offering, and the pressing need to flee the sharp sensations his skilled hands provoke.

“I - um!” You squirm helplessly as he continues playing with your breasts. “It isn’t!”

“Just as I thought.” He pinches both of your nipples and pulls at them until you cry out in half-pain, half-pleasure. The thin material of your shirt doesn’t dull the ache; if anything, the cotton scratches your skin, rubbing the nubs raw.

Despite your very visible discomfort, Hoseok doesn’t let go. You can only sit there obediently while he has his fun, knowing that if you wiggle too much it’ll only worsen the pain.

“Ah!”

Only then does he release them. You fight against the urge to cover your sore nipples. Your flimsy shirt hadn’t provided any protection against his rough onslaught, none at all.

“You’re quite sensitive,” he observes, giving your breasts one last squeeze.

Finished with his appraisal, he steps away and picks his clipboard up. He makes his way around the massage table, coming back into view, and scribbles something onto the paper with a ballpoint pen. He looks so absorbed in his work that you almost fall for the act.

You worry your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. Without a bra, your hardened nipples are clearly visible through the thin shirt. They jut out in a distracting way; Hoseok’s eyes drop down for a split-second in appreciation before flickering back to the clipboard in his hands.

“Your body is wound up. It’s tense in places it shouldn’t be.”

“Is that...a bad thing?”

“No. Your case is not abnormal.” He shakes his head and offers you a reassuring smile. “Although... Hm. When was the last time you achieved an an orgasm?”

You look away, mumbling your answer in an embarrassed voice. “Last night.”

More scribbling. He taps the end of the pen against his chin, pretending to be lost in thought.

His eyes glint when he asks, “How many times did you cum?”

It’s not real - none of this is - and yet you can feel warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your chest. It’s a strange sensation, stuck somewhere between humiliation and arousal, and it makes your entire body heat up from the inside out.

“Just - Just once…”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap towards his on command. He looks relaxed, unbothered, like he’s discussing the weather forecast and not your masturbation habits. You want to look away but something in his stare pins you in place.

“You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”

“Good.” He smiles pleasantly, nodding to himself. “So. You came once. Did you use your fingers? Or, perhaps, a toy?”

He’s still staring at you, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while you confess your sins. Your thighs clench together and you struggle to focus on the conversation at hand.

“F-fingers.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine Hoseok’s fingers replacing your imaginary ones. They’d fill you up nicely, too. Compared to your own, they’re longer, capable of reaching places yours can’t. All you’d have to do is hook your arms under your knees and keep your legs spread wide open. He doesn’t even need to take your clothes off; he could pull the seam of your shorts and underwear to the side and fuck you just like that. “I only used my fingers.”

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. Somehow, that makes the fire between your legs burn hotter. It’s like - he knows you’re too cockhungry to settle for just fingers. And if a mere stranger can tell how desperate you are to get fucked, what about the rest?

“Interesting.” Hoseok’s eyes darken by the minute. “And do you prefer clitoral stimulation to penetration?”

“I-” You pause and struggle to formulate your response. Your ears feel hot. In fact - your entire face feels like it’s on fire.

The embarrassment you feel doesn’t make sense - you’ve never had any qualms discussing sex. You can talk candidly about any topic for hours on end, from the condom brands you prefer to advice on how to maintain a rash-free pussy, to the point where some people might think you’re over-sharing or being too crass. Discussing intimate topics shouldn’t be a problem.

It’s not even a real dialogue anyway, so why do you -

“Yes?” Hoseok leans forward, interrupting your train of thought. The corner of his mouth is upturned, like he can’t help but be amused by your discomfiture.

“I like, um.” You close your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow make the admission easier. It doesn’t. The darkness makes you feel even more exposed, like all your secrets are laid bare for him to see. Your voice quivers when you answer. “I - I touch - I mean, sometimes I’ll - my fingers aren’t long enough. So just rubbing the outside is - fine.”

“Ah. You like being stuffed full, I take it?” Hoseok’s vulgar vocabulary makes your eyes snap open in shock. He smirks, not expecting you to answer. “Poor girl.”

You shake your head, your reply dying in your throat. With every word he utters, your thoughts become fuzzy, muddled.

“What did you imagine last night while you were getting off? A stranger fucking your face? Big men taking turns using your cunt? Tell me. In detail, preferably.”

“I don’t see how-” The sharp look in his eyes makes you swallow down any protest. Still. You can’t get your mouth to work correctly and you look back at him helplessly.

“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” He tilts his head to the side, the smirk on his face growing, canines flashing. “Oh. I see.”

You flinch, your face impossibly hot.

“Were you thinking of today’s session?” He chuckles, delighted. “That’s quite naughty of you. Although, I can’t blame you, can I? We are known to deliver the best orgasma. It’s only natural to imagine what would happen.”

That’s right, you think. You’d spent all night fantasizing about a faceless, nameless stranger’s hands all over your naked body. How long had it been since you’d felt someone’s touch? Their tongue buried deep in your cunt, fucking you until your thighs trembled? Even your best dildo couldn’t hold a candle to a hot-blooded, throbbing cock.

Hoseok taps the pen against the clipboard, the staccato sound filling the silence.

“One last question.” He makes sure he has your undivided attention before continuing. “No need to look so worried. I won’t ask you what lewd thoughts you get off to, although maybe in future sessions I’ll expect that of you.”

You don’t linger on the implication there - that you’ll undoubtedly come back for seconds - and nod your assent for him to go on.

“Did you cum hard while thinking of getting fucked by me today?”

You inhale sharply, struggling to hold his stare. “I… The sheets were so wet afterwards, I had to change them.”

“I see.” He jots something down on his clipboard but his reaction doesn’t give anything away. Nervously, you pull on a loose string hanging from the hem of your short. “Hm…”

After a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, done with his assessment.

“Well, normally for first timers such as yourself we’d recommend starting with a more soothing body massage. But I think in your case a more thorough massage is needed. It’s not a cause for concern!” He adds quickly, as if to assuage any growing fears. “But in my professional opinion, I think the massage I have in mind for you might be more beneficial than the beginner level massage.”

“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”

“We call it the full treatment. In other words - it’s a deep tissue penetration massage,” Hoseok explains calmly. “It includes an internal massage. We’ll use a variety of methods but rest assured - all techniques are tried and tested! You’ll be in safe hands.”

You pretend to mull it over.

Hoseok waits for your nod of confirmation before instructing, “There are towels at your disposal.” He motions to the pile of fluffy white towels folded neatly on the bench. “Feel free to use them. While you change into a...less restricting outfit, I’ll go retrieve the rest of the massage equipment. See you in a bit!”

And with that he’s gone. The privacy he grants you is, of course, just an illusion. Even without looking in their direction, you know that the cameras’ lenses are all focused on you, waiting to capture the impending striptease. You’d forgotten about them but Hoseok’s absence reminds you of their presence.

Per Director Ryu’s earlier instructions, you make a show of taking off your clothes. Teasing the camera comes naturally to you thanks to your prior experience as a cam girl; you know exactly which angles are the most flattering and which ones, on the other hand, emphasize your flaws.

Your back arches as you peel off your shirt, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist. Not long after do you shimmy out of your shorts, exaggerating the swing of your hips for the audience’s viewing pleasure. You try not to show your surprise when the dampness of your crotch sticks to your folds as you pull them down your legs - you hadn’t expected how much a simple tit massage and few exchanged words would rile you up.

The denim pools around your ankles and when you bend over to retrieve the useless item of clothing, you’re acutely aware of how your wet, waxed pussy peeks out from between your thighs. You stay in position, giving the camera ample time to zoom in, and while the stretch isn’t painful (thanks to your yoga lessons!), it is a rather awkward position to maintain.

Once you straighten up, you take a few seconds to fold up the shirt and itty bitty shorts before setting them aside. Normally, you’d leave your discarded clothing strewn about but you can’t imagine your character behaving in such an uncouth way.

With that thought in mind, you wrap yourself with a short towel. Rather than covering your intimate bits, it’s so short that it emphasizes your nakedness. When you go to sit on the massage table, the towel rides up, leaving you exposed and you have to fold your hands in your lap to preserve a semblance of modesty.

It’s easy to convey nervousness while you wait for Hoseok’s return. While you’ve never attended any drama school, you have watched plenty enough Netflix dramas to know which physical cues are more or less effective - constant fidgeting, shifty eyes, audible gulping. Since it’s your first time putting your knowledge into practice, you’re not certain how convincing your acting is, but hey, isn’t it the effort that counts? You’re not here to audition for the starring role in Hollywood’s next summer blockbuster, after all.

Hoseok knocks twice before entering, stopping your self-depreciation in its tracks. He’s abandoned the earlier clipboard for a large, nondescript, white cardboard box that rattles with every step he takes. It sounds more ominous than it actually is.

If Director Ryu is truly aiming for realism, he wouldn’t make Hoseok carry back the items in a fucking box, you think privately. Who even does that? Although you suppose realism isn’t the be-all end-all, no matter how much the director insists. Sometimes viewers like to be metaphorically edged and endlessly teased, and all this guessing only adds to the build-up, making the climax more than worth it. They could, of course, fast-forward to get to the juicy sex scenes, the crux of the matter, but you’d like to believe all this extra effort is worth it.

You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.

“Oh good.” He beams in your direction, his eyes drinking in your scantily-clad figure. “Now that you’re more comfortable, please lie down for me.”

He sets the box to the side, opens the lid, and takes out a bottle of oil while you settle down on your stomach and carefully rearrange your towel so that it covers your bum.

“I’ve chosen bergamot essential oil for today’s massage. It’s a nice, citrus-like scent that’s not too overwhelming because it’s been mixed in with sweet almond oil. Its many virtues include, but are not limited to, increasing the body’s energy flow and enhancing feelings of joy and freshness.”

“That sounds lovely.” You sigh dreamily. Getting massaged and getting dicked down in one go? Hell yeah. That one is a no-brainer for sure.

There’s a shadow of a smirk on Hoseok’s face when he rounds on you, like he’s somehow privy to your thoughts. That, or your eagerness is too transparent. You’re betting on the latter.

His voice lowers an octave, the low timber making shivers run down your back.

“Shall we begin?”

He moves your hair to the side, leaving your neck and back exposed. He then pulls down your towel so that it uncovers the expanse of your back and covers more of your bottom half instead.

“Is this alright?” he inquires. As if testing the waters, his fingers trace down the line of your spine, stopping right before your lower back dips into a curve.

You moan your assent. “More than.”

Hoseok takes the bottle of oil and drizzles its contents over your skin like a painter splattering ink onto a blank canvas. He spreads the lubricant all over your back, rubbing your skin in circular motions until you’re coated with it. You let out a few pleased sounds here and there that are not entirely faked or exaggerated. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands.

Honestly, you feel sorry towards your co-star who’s stuck doing most of the work while you’re splayed out like a starfish. It feels a bit unfair that you’re getting paid more than him when he’s the one putting in most of the effort. Had you any shame, you’d give him half of your pay for his services. Alas.

“Tell me if it hurts anywhere,” he warns, not unkindly.

Your back stiffens. You expect Hoseok to replicate the rough treatment he’d inflicted to your breasts, but contrary to your expectations, he kneads your body gently, almost tenderly. The contrast between this touch and his earlier ministrations messes with your head. When his hands outline your flank, his fingers prodding the sides of your breasts, you swallow a hopeful sigh as you wait for him to envelop your soft mounds and roll your sensitive nipples between his skilled fingers.

Betrayal brews in your gut when he fails to indulge your fantasies. You’re tempted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to where you need it the most but you miraculously hold yourself back. Since the scene doesn’t call for that much impatience and desperation on your part, you’d hate to be the reason why Director Ryu asks for a re-take.

Thankfully, he soon puts you out of your misery. Hoseok retreats, done teasing the sides of your breasts for the time being. You’re not sure it’s relief or disappointment that swims in your lower belly, but Hoseok doesn’t give you time to dwell on the question. Almost as soon as he retracts his hands from your back, he redirects his attention to your legs. His hands, warm and slick from the oil, glide over the back of your calves and thighs with ease. His thumbs rub circular shapes into your flesh as he slowly works his way up, the pleasant sensations leaving your whole body boneless.

“You loosen up well.”

Hoseok’s fingers skirt the hem of the towel. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he toys with the fabric.

“Will you open up for me, pretty? You look tense right here.” He flips the towel up, revealing your bare lower half. He wastes no time before gripping the meat of your ass cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He spreads your cheeks apart, cool air blowing against your exposed holes, and lets them jiggle back into place after giving the camera ample time to capture the view. “Hm. Looks like you haven’t been properly stretched out in a long time... We’ll fix that today.”

Bolts of pleasure run through your body. The whole situation is ludicrous and yet, for whatever reason you cannot pinpoint, moisture gathers between your thighs with every passing second, adding to the mess dripping from your folds.

“Um, like this?” You part your legs open slightly, as if unsure. In situations like these, the biggest challenge is to act diffident and coy when all you want is for your co-star to blow your back out.

He tsks, the sound sharp and reproving. It goes straight to your core and makes your belly clench with unspeakable need.

“How am I supposed to fuck your holes open in that position?” He has the audacity to sound impatient. “Work with me here.”

He grabs your ankles and separates them himself, ignoring your yelp of surprise. Unaccustomed to the stretch, the muscles in your thighs strain with the effort to hold the position.

A whine slips out your mouth. He’s so mean.

While you expect Hoseok to act somewhat distant and objective because of the role he’s playing, his fluctuating behavior gives you nothing but whiplash. One moment he’s cordial and friendly, the epitome of what a professional should be, the next he’s treating you like you’re his plaything, not his client.

His grip around your ankles is firm and unyielding. He’s got you spread impossibly wide, your legs dangling dangerously off the edge of the table with your waxed holes exposed for inspection.

“That’s good, just like that.” His hands let go of your ankles when he’s sure you won’t move from the position he’s steered you into. He strokes up your legs, the touch feather-light and fleeting. “Keep your legs spread wide. I want to see your cute little holes on display.”

His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.

Even if this is the sort of place that offers sexual gratification, Hoseok’s wording toes several lines. As his client, he should be focused on giving you pleasure, so why do his comments make it sound like you’re here for his entertainment instead?

Despite your character being fully aware of what type of establishment she’s visiting, you reckon Hoseok’s words are enough to make her squirm in embarrassment. There’s something filthy about the way he orders you around and bends you to his will. Even you’re not indifferent to the impersonal way he handles your body like a doll. Flickers of arousal lick up your spine, and with your legs extended so far apart, it’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice how much you’re wound up.

The position is far from proper. Hot streaks of humiliation burn through you when you imagine how easy and slutty you must seem to whoever is watching. You don’t dare move from the pose he’s maneuvered you into, not because you’re scared of the consequences, but because his presence demands obedience. Even without explicitly saying so, he’s made it clear that for the next hour or so, you’re his to toy with.

“Good girl. You open up so nicely.” Hoseok purrs, satisfied with your compliance. “Now let me see what I’m working with here.”

He swipes his index finger through your glossy folds, the action forcing you to stifle a startled gasp. It’s nothing like the erotic oil massage you’d experienced minutes prior. The touch is inquisitive, clinical, assessing. Like he’s testing out a new product before purchase.

You want to stay still but you’re so wound up from his incessant teasing. The slightest caress makes the hairs on the back of your nape stand straight. Hoseok is all too aware of this fact. The tip of his pointer finger comes in contact with your clit, the touch more delicate than a feather's caress. Hoseok watches with thinly veiled amusement as you jerk against the table.

“You really are sensitive,” he all but coos. “What a treat. Don’t need any oil when you’re leaking all over the table like a faucet. How long has it been since someone touched you here, hm?”

The teasing lilt in his voice borders on condescending. Heat simmers under the surface of your skin as you struggle to collect your thoughts.

“Eight months,” you squeak just as two of his fingers dip into your slicked up entrance.

“No wonder you’re all worked up.” He slides his digits right up to the knuckle, the glide so easy it’s embarrassing. “Needy holes like yours should be used more often.”

He fucks his fingers into your pussy one, two, three times, before pulling away, chuckling under his breath when your hips push back, greedy and desperate for more. Using the same hand he’d used to test out your cunt Hoseok slaps your ass once, the sharp sting making you still at once.

The damp mark on your ass is a testament to how fucking soaked you are. You can’t imagine what kind of mess the cameras are picking up on - but maybe you don’t have to.

Hoseok wipes his fingers off on you, using you to clean himself off. Although you can’t see anything because of the way you’re laying down, everything feels wet and filthy. He rubs your own juices onto your skin, reminding you of the intensity of your need.

And just when you don’t think his mouth can get any filthier, he proves you wrong.

“I can tell you haven’t been stretched recently,” he sighs, almost disappointed. “You’re just gagging for a pounding, aren’t you? It’s a shame your fuck-hole is too tight to take a big cock or I would have given it to you right away.”

Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.

The idea sounds downright delicious. Hoseok is right. Even if it’s just for the sake of the storyline, there’s nothing more you want right now than a good, hard fucking. It would take him less than ten seconds for him to pull his hard cock out from his scrubs and make a home for himself between your thighs. Images flash through your mind of Hoseok’s hands on your breasts, in your hair, around your throat. You want him to cover you, smother you, as he forces you down against the table and takes his fill. You want his lips on your skin, hot and possessive, as he uses you like the cocksleeve he needs you to be.

God, you want that. You want to be used hard, to be fucked full until you break. You need this - your character needs this.

You whimper, high-pitched and needy. “Please. Please, I want it. I want - I want your cock.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok all but scoffs. “Why don’t you just sit still and relax for me? I’m going to massage you until you’re nice and loose, alright? First-timers like you could get hurt if they’re not prepped properly but I’ll get you ready, don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be able to take big cocks in all your holes like a pro.”

“Shit.”

You bite back a moan, startled at how much you’re turned on.

Porn dialogue is rarely arousing. You’re the first to tune out your partner whenever they talk for longer than a minute. It’s because you hear the same exact shitty lines repeated so often that you’re half-convinced there’s a porn acting for dummies handbook being circulated around.

Although… Maybe if Hoseok’s lines had been delivered by someone else, they wouldn’t have the same effect on you. That’s the difference, you think to yourself. Hoseok’s delivery. The cockiness that infuses his every word, the way he confidently carries himself… He does it all so convincingly - nothing like the wooden and awkward memorized performances you’ve witnessed from fellow actors.

While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok rummages inside the cardboard box. Without his touch or words to distract you, it’s harder to ignore the building arousal between your legs. As the seconds tick by, your shameful desire only worsens.

Before you can crane your neck or voice your confusion, Hoseok returns, humming under his breath.

“We’re gonna try a different massage technique now. This method will help with lubrication,” he explains evenly. “I’ll use a special vibrating tool that will massage hard to reach areas.”

“Um…” You swallow, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’ll start off slow and I’ll gradually up the intensity once I deem you ready for the next stage. How does that sound?”

A click, followed by a low buzzing, fills the room.

You gasp when the vibrating object comes in contact with the back of your knee. Hoseok’s free hand settles on your leg - a nonverbal reminder to keep your legs wide open for him as well as the cameras.

“See? Nice and easy. Nothing to be scared of.”

He rotates the tool in slow, even circles. You force yourself to relax and accept the foreign massage, disregarding how strange it feels to have small vibrations travel up and down your leg. After a few minutes of him repeating the same motions on your other leg, he slowly makes his way up your thighs, the rounded tip of the tool dangerously close to your drenched pussy.

A pleading whine reverberates in your chest. The electric whirring of the vibrator is not enough to soothe the burning between your thighs. If anything, it makes it worse. You need more, you think urgently.

Hoseok moves to the side of the table so that the cameras can get an unobstructed view of your clenching hole. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he made you lie down. From his voice alone, it’s impossible to tell how affected he is. More than once you’d caught yourself wondering… Does he like what he sees? Is he enjoying himself?

A dark streak of satisfaction crosses over you when you notice the hunger in his gaze, his pupils blown so wide his brown eyes look black. Drool pools in your mouth when you spot the sizable tent in his scrubs.

The fact that you’re at the perfect height to suck his dick doesn’t slip by you. He could flip you over onto your back, your head hanging off the table, and use your mouth to his heart’s content. You whimper at the thought of him fucking your face, your mouth reduced to a fleshlight for him to get off. You could probably cum like that - his cock buried deep in your throat, his fingers pressed against the side of your neck to you struggle around his length, while his other hand reaches down to grab at your breast, using it as an anchor to fuck into you harder.

“Shit, you’re really making a mess of my work table.”

Hoseok’s gaze is trained between your legs. He wets his lips and adjusts his hold on the vibrator. The sudden movement changes the angle, positioning the tool right over your dripping entrance, closer than ever to your swollen clit. The vibrations suddenly feel louder and stronger than before. If this keeps up, you reckon that it won’t be long before you’re hurtling towards the edge of a precipice.

A moan slips past your parted lips, loud and wanton. Embarrassed by the sheer need that colors your voice, you quickly shut your mouth closed, hoping that your desperation goes by unnoticed.

Hoseok chuckles, the sound sharp and mean. He comments on your obscene behavior, how you’re acting so slutty it’s a wonder you’d kept this side of you locked away for this long without people suspecting your love for cock. Every word infiltrates your mind, leaves no corners untainted, until all you can think and breathe and smell is him.

“Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of sluts parade in here and pay for my time,” he says, his dulcet tone making the degradation sweeter. You hang onto each and every word, letting yourself fall deeper into a haze of arousal and submission. “But it’s been a while since someone like you showed up. Just look at this… Your little fuck-hole can’t even take a bit of teasing without getting me dirty.”

The buzzing between your thighs switches back and forth between strong pulses and rapid, little vibrations. You keen, shaking from head to toe in pleasure. Your thighs are wet, sticky with your juices, and your clit is hard and aching for attention.

You don’t even want to know what state your sopping pussy is in. Every time your body jerks and trembles, you feel the pool of arousal that’s gathered underneath you. It’s - embarrassing. That you’re this soaked and close to cumming when he hasn’t even touched your clit or fucked you with his cock.

In the midst of your pleasure-induced haze, your eyes meet his. The lines of his face are drawn into a smug expression, his gaze smoldering. Embers of arousal light up his dark eyes, and you can only stare back at him, clit throbbing, as he ups the intensity of the vibrations.

“Fuck! Oh God, oh I’m-” Your legs thrash, hips lifting off the table in an effort to escape the shocks of pleasure zapping throughout your body. Mercifully - or not, depending on how you looked at it - Hoseok brought the vibrations down a few settings, until the whirring had quieted down to a low thrum.

“Feeling good, huh?” The grin he sends your way is positively wicked. “I think you’re ready to take more.”

More? you think weakly. Any more and you’ll explode, like popcorn kernels in a microwave.

For a second you think he’ll bring the vibrator up to your clit. Maybe even slide the long, phallic-shaped vibrator inside your pussy so that it’ll stretch you out like he’d promised. What you don’t expect is for him to bring it down to your other hole, the powerful vibrations rattling you to the core.

Your surprised gasp is so loud, not even the buzzing of the toy drowns it out. Hoseok places his available hand on your left hip and pins you to the table, the gentle weight keeping you steady.

“That’s right,” he soothes, voice smooth like silk. It sounds patronizing, almost like he’s calming down a dog startled by thunder or explaining right from wrong to a small child.

“Um.” You let trepidation inch its way into your voice. “You - what are you doing? That’s not - that’s dirty.”

“What is?”

“My,” you pause, humiliation coiling tightly around your spine. Hoseok presses the toy harder around your rim, its coat of arousal making the tip slide over your sensitive skin. You’re tempted not to answer but you know Hoseok wants you to voice the dirty words. “My asshole. It’s - dirty. Please - I… I don’t think you should touch it. It’s not right.”

You mumble the end of your sentence like you’re embarrassed to say such a scandalous thing out loud.

Hoseok laughs, sounding both mocking and endeared. “Oh, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m going to loosen up all your holes. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted deep down, isn’t it? To service cock. Even if it means letting me play with this dirty hole of yours.”

The vibrations intensify with the click of a button. Your whole body spasms, limbs flailing pathetically as the sensations run down your back all the way to the tip of your toes.

You bite down a whimper. How does he know? How can he tell? All you want right now is a nice, hard cock buried inside of you - and at this point you don’t care which orifice he sticks in it. You’re just so - empty. So empty it physically aches.

Hoseok dials down the intensity of the vibrator and with his free hand, squeezes a copious amount of oil onto the toy, slicking it up.

Surprisingly he doesn’t bother prepping you with his fingers before easing the toy into your back entrance. From your position, you can’t tell if Director Ryu signaled to hurry things along or if his own impatience played a part. Either way, your sharp intake of breath is genuine.

You try your best to relax your muscles but the toy is thicker than expected, its sides bumpy and ribbed. Even though you’d stretched yourself out beforehand with a sizable dildo, the girth of the toy still makes your breath hitch. Your bottom lip hurts as you scrape your teeth over it.

“Relax for me. That’s it.” Hoseok whispers soft words of encouragement. “You’re doing such a good job.”

Finally, after what seems like light years, the toy is fully inserted, only the base of it peeking out from between your parted cheeks. You feel full, deliciously so. It’s only now with the weight of the toy inside of you that you realize how much you’d missed being stuffed to the brim.

“There you go.” Hoseok smacks your right ass cheek hard enough for the sting to go straight to your clit. “How does that feel?”

“Full.” You smack your lips together. Eloquence is not your strongest suit in the present moment and your lack of coherency only humiliates you further. It’s like he’s rendered you cock-dumb. Reduced you to a lust-driven creature that only has dick on the brain. “I feel good.”

“Of course you’d enjoy that.” The cockiness in his voice is undeniable, like he’s drunk off the power he has over you. “Needy sluts like you only care about getting filled up, huh?”

It sounds like a rhetorical question but you answer it anyway, just in case he wanted an answer.

“Yes! I’m a needy slut. Please - could you…?” You wriggle your hips, trying to entice him into action. The rocking motion jostles the toy nestled inside of you, causing you to choke out a moan. “Hng! Use my pussy this time, please?”

Hoseok clucks his tongue and slaps your ass again to keep you still. It moves the lodged vibrator, knocking it against a spot inside of you that makes you gush. Your pussy clenches up in an imitation of an orgasm - but you know from experience that you haven’t cum just yet.

Fuck. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even given you his cock.

Your head thumps down against the table as you take in deep, steadying breaths. You can’t think straight; every thought seems clouded by a dense smog of lust. Your body feels like a live wire, all your nerve endings crackling with electricity. How much more can you endure before you shatter beyond repair?

Hoseok takes pity on you. “The vibrating massage should have helped your muscles relax. Your tight cunt should be able to fit this in by now.”

He slides another silicone toy into your pussy, this one wider and longer than the first. Your hands grapple for purchase as your body accommodates both toys, one in each hole. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance despite its impressive size and you suck in a breath as Hoseok keeps pushing it in, inch by interminable inch.

If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to how stretched you feel now. The wall separating the two toys is stretched thin and when you tense your abdomen, you can feel both of them nudge against one another. Your stomach feels - bloated. As if there’s a bulge where the toys are nestled deep inside of you.

It’s quite frankly obscene.

You’ve never felt more turned on.

“Whoa.” He grips both of your legs and widens them even further, displaying your stuffed holes for the cameras. “Your hungry cunt ate up my biggest dildo like it was nothing.”

The fact that he admitted it was a dildo - and not some vibrating tool - just adds to your mortification.

“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”

He releases his hold on your legs and raises a brow at you. The smirk is back on his face and that, paired with the ravenous look in his eyes, makes you want to run and hide. He looks like he’s two seconds away from devouring you whole for dinner. “Why don’t you turn around for me? It wouldn’t be a full body massage if I didn’t rub down the other side, right?”

His chuckle spurs you into action. It’s not that you’re not embarrassed by the idea of baring yourself completely for him like some sort of cult offering, but the need to get dicked down trumps all.

Your mind feels fuzzy and your body sluggish. There’s a fire inside of you that not even double penetration has managed to extinguish and it roars to life as you manœuvre into the position he’s ordered you to get into. The toys jostle inside of you, reminding you of the depraved lengths you’d go to because you’re starving for cock.

He’s right about you, you think as you settle onto your back. You’re a needy slut. All you want is for your holes to be filled. And when they’re empty, your body aches with the need to fill them back up again. Toys will do but they’re a poor substitute for what you really want.

Thankfully, Hoseok’s own patience is running out. You’ve barely gotten into a comfortable position when he’s fishing out his cock from his scrubs, not even bothering to remove his clothes.

Drool pools into your mouth at the sight. He’s just as long as you remembered him to be. Not too thick or veiny, but prettily flushed and glistening with translucent precum. How long has he been hard? The erection looks painful. Distantly, you’re comforted by the knowledge that you haven’t been the only one suffering from this prolonged foreplay. God is fair, you rejoice internally.

Your mouth opens of its own accord and your tongue lolls out, hungry.

Hoseok doesn’t comment on your pathetic state - a testament to how worked up he probably is. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth with barely repressed urgency.

His cock is heavy on your tongue, the perfect weight. He pushes in until he can’t go any further, the position you’re in giving him better access to your throat. You fucking love it.

When you swallow around his length, he hisses between his teeth. “Shit.”

He gives you little time to adjust. As soon as he’s certain you can take it, he starts to thrust his hips. His cock drags across the rough surface of your tongue as it’s pushed and pulled out of your mouth at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his hips makes you gag, drool running down the sides of your face, and the obscene sounds of your choking echo in your ears.

The rough treatment should revolt you, make you squirm or shy away, but you’ve never felt more alive. Your mind feels pleasantly blank - like your sole purpose in life is to be a glorified cum bucket, a receptacle for his cock and cum. Even when he buries himself all the way to the hilt, so far down your throat it feels like he’s reached your stomach, you’re eager for more. Logically speaking you don’t even know if you can handle more, don’t have the mental faculty to figure out if more is physically possible, but your body knows that it’ll never be sated, not fully, not until he cums inside you.

“Greedy girl,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “Look at you… I’ve plugged up three of your holes but you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? Filthy slut.”

His words are meant to degrade and humiliate you. Instead of disgust, you can hear the admiration ring in his voice. His awe satisfies you and you hollow your cheeks, suctioning around his girth just to hear him curse under his breath. You live for the way his hips stutter and how his deep breathing is interspersed by the occasional grunt or moan. It feels good to know that you’re bringing him pleasure, that your hole is satisfactory.

Hoseok reaches over your body and grabs something from the discarded cardboard box you can’t see. You soon find out what it is though - the oil is drizzled over your torso and chest, liquid spilling down the sides of your body. He throws the bottle to the side, more interested in spreading the lubricant over your tits until they’re slick and shiny.

It soon becomes clear that he’s abandoned his earlier massage techniques in favor of a more rushed treatment. Gone is the slow build-up. He rubs your breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like stress balls, and pinches your hard nipples tightly between his fingers, pulling them out until your back arches.

The next time he slams his erect length into your mouth, your breasts bounce from the force of the thrust. Hoseok’s eyes remain transfixed on the lewd way your breasts jiggle; because he keeps your nipples clamped tightly between his fingers, your tits have no other choice but to swing around every time he rocks his hips back and forth.

Every time you gag and choke on his cock, tears prickling your eyes, you feel the fire between your legs grow stronger. Shame and arousal course through you, your head dizzy with lust. You can’t move, can’t scream, all of your moans of pleasure muffled by the cock buried in your throat.

He laughs derisively, pulling out after a particularly hard thrust. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock and your eyes zero in on it, finding it impossible to look away.

“You slut.”

He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat before slapping you across the face with his cock.

It doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as a real slap but it’s so unexpected you gasp, your jaw throbbing in pain. The imprint of his cock is wet and dirty against your cheek. He keeps his cock hanging a few centimeters above your face. It taunts you, beckons you closer. The seam of your mouth stays wide open, your appetite evidently knowing no limits.

“Heh. You’re really something… Never seen a whore so cock-hungry in my life. And trust me when I say I’ve seen plenty.” He sneers, walking away.

For a long second, you fear he’s gone and left you high and dry and that the scene will end like that. Except - no. He’s positioned himself at the other side of the massage table. You shudder as you realize that can only mean one thing : he’s going to grant you the fucking your body craves.

Hoseok’s lips twitch into a knowing half-smile. He grips his stiff cock in one hand, the length of it soaked with your spit and precum.

You gulp, suddenly intimidated. Perhaps it’s the angle, but he looks taller than you remember him to be, bigger, his shoulders slightly broader. His cock looks more imposing, too. Despite just having choked on it, it’s long; his hand sits loosely at the base of his cock, leaving a few good inches poking out of his fist. Your mouth goes dry, your insatiable hunger reawakened.

The impatience marring your features is probably disgustingly obvious because Hoseok makes another comment about how desperate and pathetic you look once you’re deprived of cock.

Using his left hand, he slowly removes the toy from your ass. The slide is painful because you’re clenching so hard down on it, unwilling for your hole to become empty once again.

A whimper escapes your parted lips. Hoseok laughs at the betrayed look that crosses your face at the loss of the thick dildo.

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He slaps your entrance with his cock, his grin wolfish as you wail in reply. “Stay still if you want my cock.”

Immediately you freeze, taking his words to heart. Deep down, you know that he won’t be that cruel but you’re so exhausted from the never-ending teasing, that you’re not willing to take any chances.

Hoseok holds up one of your legs and pushes it over his shoulder.

“Good girl.” He breaches your ass, both of you moaning as his cock works its way inside of you. It’s a tight fit; you can feel his cock bump into the vibrating dildo in your pussy, the feeling overwhelming you. He grunts, fingertips bruising your skin as he hold back from cumming too quickly.

His hips work up a steady rhythm, the both of you already so close to finishing. You know that a lesser man would have cum ages ago, but Hoseok troops on, eyebrows creased in concentration. He looks - hot. Ridiculously hot, even in that dumb fake masseuse uniform.

His once perfectly combed hair is now disheveled, strands of hair falling over his eyes and dripping brow. There’s something about all of it - the wild glint in his eyes, the rough way he’s fucking you, the domineering aura that he exudes - that makes you absolutely lose it.

You clench up on his cock without warning, your insides squeezing around him even more tightly because of the toy still lodged in your dripping cunt. The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, leaving your thighs soaking. Hoseok fucks you through it, his cock relentless, drawing your pleasure out until your body goes limp.

It’s the kind of orgasm that on a normal day you could only hope to achieve.

Except Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you rest or take a breather. He brings your other leg over his shoulder, testing the limits of your flexibility, and uses the new angle to plow into you with renewed force.

“Ah - ah fuck wait!” You cry out, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations traveling through your body. “Oh my God, oh shit! You’re so fucking deep, ah!”

Hoseok chooses that moment to turn on the vibrating dildo. He doesn’t even start at the lowest setting, sets it straight to one of the higher level ones, and your whole body jumps. Both of you moan as the toy comes to life. The vibrations rattle your insides - and that, coupled with the fat cock that’s splitting you open relentlessly, threaten to rearrange your insides.

Arousal builds again quickly inside of you, pulsing steadily alongside your heartbeat.

You feel so fucking full you think it’s possible you’ll burst. Before, when you had both toys buried inside of you, the stretch and the fullness had been pleasant. You had even been able to tune it out for the most part once you’d got used to it.

But with the way Hoseok is now fucking into you with reckless abandon, it’s impossible not to be reminded of how stuffed your holes are. Every thrust of his cock in your ass bumps against the vibrator, pushing it harder against your bundle of nerves.

“I knew the minute I saw you,” he growls, his pace punishing. “No bra, pussy ripe for the picking. Whores like you could never be satisfied with the beginner massage. No, I knew exactly what you needed.”

He adjusts his grip on your ankles and the change in angle keeps the vibrator pressed directly the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you.

“Fuck! Oh God, there there! Please, keep going. It’s so good. Fuck me!” You chant, out of your mind with pleasure.Your words are raw, unrefined, and in any other circumstance, you’d laugh at how ridiculous you sound.

“You’re so fucking loud,” he hisses between grunts of pleasure. “Why don’t you go ahead and cum for me. Make yourself useful and tighten up this hole of yours so I can feel good.”

He reaches down between your legs and fiddles with the switch.

You scream. Your eyes roll back and your entire body locks up. Intense pleasure that you’ve never experienced before thunders through your body. If your previous orgasm was like a building wave crashing to the shore at long last, this one is a fucking tornado determined to rip you to pieces.

Maybe you might’ve passed out. You don’t know. But when you regain consciousness, Hoseok’s cock is pulsing jet after jet of hot cum inside of your pussy. You feel it spurt inside of you, coating your already slick walls with his essence.

He pulls out quickly so that the camera can zoom in on the way the cum oozes out of you in thick globs. Instinctively you clench your walls to keep more from leaking out, but it only pushes more of the mess out, painting your inner thighs white.

When you glance up at him you notice his shirt is soaked. There’s a huge dark spot that starts from his chest to his pants. He doesn’t seem to mind the stain.

“You came so hard you passed out,” he informs you while tucking his spent cock back inside his scrubs. “I came inside of you while you were out of it but I figured you wouldn’t mind. That’s what you came here for, right?”

The smile he shoots your way looks more like a smirk. You bite your lip. He must’ve taken out the dildo - or it might’ve gotten pushed out during your orgasm, you don’t know - and you feel your holes gape a little after being stretched and used for so long. You’re tempted to snap your legs shut but you know the cameras need to record your debauchery.

“I’ll let you change. You can meet me out front to schedule your next appointment. Hm let’s see… Considering how well you reacted during this session I think we’ll have to take more, hm, drastic measures next time. I’m curious to see how far your greedy cunt is able to stretch with enough incentive. I’m positive that with you anything is possible. We’ll try fitting two cocks insides for starters and maybe - ah. I’m getting carried away.” He chuckles. “Anyways, meet me at the counter in ten minutes and we can go over the details then.”

“I…” You wet your lips. “I’d like that.”

A silence ensues and for a second you think your acting was bad or you’d said the wrong thing.

“CUT! And that, my friends, is what you call art!” yells Director Ryu, clapping his hands like a seal.

You breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up despite your muscles protesting loudly. God, your ass feels sore. Hoseok had really done a number on you.

“Hey, are you all good?” He asks, drawing closer to you in concern. He must have seen your grimace.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just - it was kind of intense. In a good way! I’ll probably be sore later but that’s because I’m not used to these kind of scenes yet.”

“You were really hot. I couldn’t tell this was your first anal scene at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Really.” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “I think I saw Jesus when I came.”

“What?” You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter. “It was a good nut, I take it?”

“The best.” He looks over at you, dimples on his cheek as he returns your smile. “I blacked out for a second and went to heaven.”

You bask in the afterglow for a few minutes longer than you usually would. Hoseok makes no move to leave either, even if logic dictates that you’re both better off washing up instead of letting the mixture of sweat, cum, and oil dry on your skin. You know from experience that it’s hard as fuck to clean up once it hardens - not to mention it stinks.

“Babe!”

You’re roused from your peaceful state of mind as your boyfriend approaches. He’s smiling but one side of his mouth looks stiff. He hands you a towel, eyes trailing down your figure, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You hurriedly wrap the fluffy material around you, eager to hide the cum still dripping out of your swollen cunt and the red marks littered over your body from Hoseok’s rough treatment.

It’s not - you’re not ashamed. You never are. It’s just - you don’t want to hurt Jimin. Even if it does come with the job, it can’t be easy for him to see his girlfriend getting fucked by someone else.

“That was so good! You did great. The camera really loves you. I can’t wait to see how the final cut turns out,” Jimin compliments and you preen despite yourself, conditioned to suck up praise. “Are you hungry?”

Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.

Jimin’s eyes crease into crescents as he smiles. “I knew it. You’re always famished after a scene. It’s a good thing I booked a reservation at our favorite restaurant, right?”

You nod, thankful yet again that you have such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. “I’m famished now that you mention it.”

Hoseok observes the exchange silently and his presence makes you embarrassed for some reason. Maybe not embarrassed but - something. You can’t put a name to the emotion.

“Um, I’ll see you around?” You say as you gather to your feet. Jimin is instantly by your side, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. “It was nice working with you again! Thank you for your hard work.”

Hoseok’s lips quirk into a half-smile. He’s still eyeing the both of you in a strange, intense kind of way and the scrutiny makes you fidgety. You try not to make your desire to flee the scene too transparent.

“It’s always a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again.”

The words he utters are tactful and diplomatic - nothing like the carefree familiarity he’d showcased minutes prior. You don’t blame him, given the circumstances.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you turn away to leave. To your relief, Hoseok doesn’t appear dejected or offended. Just - curious, maybe? Pensive? Like he’s in the middle of solving a complicated and intricate puzzle and that puzzle involves you.

The idea scares you. Mostly because you yourself don’t know what he’ll find.

As soon as you’ve rounded the corner, Jimin excuses himself. “I have to finish helping the guys. There’s still some equipment to put away. But we’ll meet out in the back like last time?”

“Sure.”

He kisses your cheek and scampers away.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the next room over. He’s holding a water bottle, your favorite silk robe, and a dark chocolate energy bar. You’re so sweaty that it feels silly to wear the robe but you shrug it on anyway, knowing that Jimin will feel better if you’re not parading around the set naked.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and it’s only then that you realize the extent of how fucking hungry you are. Non-stop sex sure is tiring, you note while ripping open the energy bar with your teeth. Seokjin calls you a savage under his breath but those types of comments are so commonplace that it’s easy to tune him out.

“God, I could kiss you right now,” you say after swallowing down a mouthful of granola. After eating spinach exclusively for the past three days, the sweetness on your tongue tastes like a slice of heaven.

“Not with that mouth, you won’t.” Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I know where it’s been.”

Still high from your mind-shattering orgasm, you giggle and pretend to kiss him just to watch him squirm. It’s not until much later, after you’d washed up as best you could with the help of baby wipes, that you check your phone. You respond to a text or two before finally checking your social media page out of habit more so than anything else.

(2) new notifications

JHOPE94 has followed you!

JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.

It’s the same account Hoseok had shown you earlier in the day. You follow him without much thought, grinning to yourself when you read his bio “hope on streets and in the sheets ;)”, and click on his Instagram story.

You’re surprised to learn he’s one of those people who uploads multiple pictures about just about anything - his Starbucks’ coffee cup with JAY written in black sharpie, several mirror selfies, a snapshot of his shoes, pictures of the film crew setting up the scene. You click through the pictures, a little flummoxed by the random collage, and pause when you get to the picture you’d been tagged in.

It’s you. Squinting, you realize that he must have taken the candid picture in passing. You’re sitting in the hair and makeup chair, the makeup artist applying a layer of gloss on your lips. The row of lights that border all around the vanity mirror give your figure a halo spotlight effect.

JHOPE94 : not in heaven but i saw an angel today :))

#once again the italics did not transfer over but i rlly can’t be bothered at this point ;;#i am so happy this is done but also nervous agshsisjskss #bts smut #hoseok smut #bts #hoseok #also as usual I did not proof the last 4k bc I speed wrote the last bit in one go #believe me when i say i cannot look at this draft any longer !

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 3 years

Note

“Vivienne x Mc, where Mc gets injured and falls unconscious and later Vivienne taking care?“

Pairing with:

Mc x Vivienne - QoT Mc was really close to an explosion during a heist, causing her to permanently loss her hearing. You can include the other members too because I want to see how will they handle future heist when one of their has been injured, how does Vivienne react? Will she let mc continue or not? And how does mc feel? Does she feel she cannot as much as before lost her hearing?

HEY... how do you think Vivienne would deal with a deaf MC? im deaf myself 😳😳 headcanons work if they're easier!

QOT MC gets caught up in the blast from one of Jett’s explosives, and now has severe burns acrros her face and other parts of her body along with slight deafness. Could I get a fic of Vivienne comforting her, and telling her she’s still beautiful? Thanks!

…

Warning: Writer’s first time writing a hard of hearing character.

TW: Panic attacks. Mentions of injury. Mentions of scarring.

Introspection-heavy fic.

…

The explosion was one of Jett’s finest work up to date.

Vivienne could feel it rattle her very bones, even though she was quite a distance away. The building crumbled easily and readily, becoming nothing but a sour-tasting memory. She nodded approvingly, letting out a small sigh in relief. There it went, up in smoke, all the incriminating evidence Benicio had gathered on them. And, as a bonus, most of his fake career.

“Ha! That was amazing!” Jett laughed, his voice bright with happiness, high with adrenaline. The rest of the Poppy soon joined in, albeit in less boisterous chuckles.

Coming down from the building she was in was child’s play. She abandoned Benicio’s unconscious body for the authorities to find, humming to herself as she made her way over to Leon, just barely paying attention to the conversation of the rest of the Poppy.

It doesn’t take long for her to notice that something is wrong. That something is missing.

She balances on top of the balcony she’s on, dread creeping over her body like lead, making her feel sluggish.

“Has anyone heard MC?”

The idle chatter stops. Vivienne can feel the shift in the atmosphere, can practically hear it become tense and chilly.

Amidst the muttered ‘no’ of the rest of the members, Zoe’s voice sounds surprisingly clear, a tinge of panic and worry that makes Vivienne lurch forward, desperate to reach the ground. “I lost her signal. Something must have happened!”

“But Benicio is out cold this time-”

“Nadia backed off, right? She couldn’t have-”

“And there is no way Francesca would-”

“Maybe,” Jett’s voice sounds hesitant, an echo of his usual self. “She got… caught by the explosion.”

Remy scoffs. “There’s no way that could have happened, MC knew the dangers!”

“Keep an eye out for the police, Zoe. We need to look for her,” Nikolai commanded, his voice as cold and hard as steel, immediately cutting through the panicked chatter.

Vivienne lets her teammates handle the distractions to stall the police a bit longer, her mind set only on making sure MC was all right. She hadn’t felt so frightened since everything that happened with Isadora, and she refused to let anything even remotely similar happen again. She couldn’t lose anyone precious to her. She couldn’t. One more person, and her soul would have been shattered beyond repair.

Not to mention, the whole issue with Benicio was her fault in the first place. If MC got hurt… god, if she got hurt…

“Ambulance! Can someone call an ambulance?”

Her head whipped around, eyes wide. There was a man shouting desperately a few meters away, making frantic motions to something behind him. Mouth dry, Vivienne relayed the situation to the rest of the Poppy. Her legs felt like jelly. She wondered if she’d crumble into an unrepairable mess when she got close enough, but no such thing happened. She moved forward as if possessed, dropping to her knees near two bodies. One was a small child, and the other was MC, cradling the child as if she was trying to protect him from the entire world.

They were both unconscious. Vivienne’s eyes trailed MC’s exposed skin, painted an angry red down to its very core, from her left shoulder down to her thigh. Her clothes were ruined, charred beyond recognition, sticking to MC’s body like a second skin. Vivienne’s first instinct is to throw her cape over her, just to cover the burns. Her hands are shaking so bad it proves to be quite the difficult task.

The child MC is holding seems fine, his burns less severe than MC’s, which eases Vivienne’s worry somewhat.

Jett was right. She had been caught up in the explosion.

…

“I had to pull a lot of favors to erase our trail, but at least the police won’t find us for a while. We can lay low while MC recovers.” Zoe informed them, a few nights later, exhaustion sipping from her like water out of a waterfall. Nikolai is in a similar state, sitting near Zoe by the couch, one hand covering his face and the other gripping his knee so tightly his knuckles are almost white.

“And the boy’s father?”

“He’s been trying to locate MC, but I don’t think we should worry about him. As for the boy, he’s much better than MC. His hearing wasn’t as affected, either. She really saved him…”

“Then again, if it hadn’t been for him, MC wouldn’t be like this in the first place.” Vivienne icily mutters, tightening her hold over her glass of wine. Nikolai and Zoe just give her a glance, too tired to pick a fight with her. “If he hadn’t rushed in recklessly-”

“He was scared, Viv.” Remy says, from somewhere in the kitchen. “He wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Vivienne’s scowl deepens. “Yes, but who runs into danger? You’d think the fire alarm would have gotten him to run the other way.”

“Someone who didn’t know there was going to be an explosion, that’s who.”

The seductress growls, a dark expression over her face, bitter frustration raging inside her like a chemical reaction about to explode. It just doesn’t make sense. Everything that boy had done that day was simply moronic, and MC – the angel she was, putting others before herself as she often did – had suffered dearly for it. The burns would leave scarring, no doubt; they had become angry red lines and spots that Vivienne mapped with a careful touch every time she had to apply the ointment the doctor had recommended. She had to watch how MC flinched at the contact, how she bit back a cry of pain, hiding it behind a shuddering smile and glistering brown eyes.

Vivienne couldn’t stop thinking about her expression. About how everything had changed, suddenly and without warning, all because of a boy. She can’t help but think about what Remy says and seethe in anger at the sheer absurdity of the boy’s actions, but she decides to stay quiet. The last thing the team needs is another fight.

Zoe speaks again after a few moments, voice soft.

“How is Jett?”

“He hasn’t left MC’s side,” Vivienne answers, after taking a deep breath. “His guilt is practically eating him alive.”

Zoe gives the couch a mournful, exhausted look, but gets to her feet nonetheless. “I’ll go check on him.”

No one blames Jett.

Ever since she had regained consciousness, MC’s sole focus had been on him. Vivienne didn’t mind. It felt relieving to walk inside her room and find them close, enjoying life, doing Art Club activities or laughing over some funny meme. Or, well, trying to. Jett’s laugh was muted, worried, tinted with sadness and regret; it was a sound that haunted Vivienne wherever she went, something that mirrored her own conflicted feelings. MC’s laugh was restrained and also wistful and a little distant. Sometimes she grimaced in the middle of it, her happiness crumbling in a burning flash of pain that made Vivienne’s heart clench and drop.

But they were trying. They were doing their best.

They would get through this. They all would.

…

Changes are inevitable. MC stands through it all like a stubborn rock holding its ground against a current, taking everything in stride. Vivienne had always found the artist fascinating, a fantastic enigma that Vivienne had foolishly thought she had cracked a long time ago.

MC always surprised her. After everything, Vivienne couldn’t help but feel awed by her. True, the first few weeks were hard, but MC had accepted her condition sooner rather than later, while Vivienne still cautiously danced around it, not sure what to think or feel or do.

MC had lost 65% percent of her hearing due to the explosion. Her left ear was slightly better, only at 50%, but the doctor had warned them she would lose more as the years went by. And while Vivienne had once again thrown herself into a bitter spiral of resentment against the boy, that damned boy, MC had pursed her lips with a determined expression and thrown herself into learning sign language and working around everything.

Everyone had agreed early on that MC couldn’t participate in heists anymore. She’d still be their forger, of course, but she’d stay with Zoe when the heist was underway.

“It’d be too dangerous,” MC had admitted, distractedly playing with the hem of her black jacket. She had this solemn look in her eyes, hollow and heavy with resignation, but it wasn’t defeated. It had this quiet intensity to it, like a volcano about to erupt; no one had dared to say anything as she explained. “I can’t even tell where sounds come from anymore, so I wouldn’t react properly to a threat.”

Vivienne couldn’t really wrap her mind around it. MC had described sounds as muted, fuzzy, distant, as if there was a giant wall of glass between her and the world, and on top of it she was underwater. Sounds simply became a cacophony in the background, nothing for MC to really pick apart. It was disorienting, at first, mostly because Vivienne hadn’t really fully processed everything yet.

Sometimes she would turn towards MC with her usual flair and dramas, all but spinning on the chair of her vanity like the typical movie villain, only to find MC engrossed on her work and not aware at all of the dramatic sigh Vivienne had delivered not two seconds ago. That was, perhaps, the biggest change. It didn’t take long for Vivienne to get used to it, no, but there had been something special in calling MC’s name from across the room and watching her reaction unfurl, be it an amused smirk or a heated stare.

MC carried on, not considering her hearing loss a disability at all. It made things different, but not impossible, something Vivienne had irrationally feared in the beginning. She loved MC and everything that entailed, be it scarring or hearing loss or grumpiness or that annoyingly stubborn personality of hers. There was no in-between, no extremes. There weren’t moments where Vivienne had loved her more or less. One day she had woken up to realize she had fallen hopelessly in love and she had never quite managed to get back up after that.

So these changes? Vivienne would accept them. Welcome them. No matter what.

…

The hearing aids helped. A bit.

MC had put them on, frowned for a second, and then beamed at Vivienne saying: “Oh, I can tell your voice apart from all the sounds now!” And that was it. No magically being able to hear everything again, no magically being able to pick apart the words. There was just a vague tone piercing a muted world, an anchor making lip-reading easier, but nothing else. Zoe had looked. Oh, how had she looked, but that was it. Everyone had accepted that. MC was just happy to her their voices again, however fuzzy they were.

Now, Vivienne could actually come sashaying into the room and call out to MC, and MC would look up and search for her – she still had a hard time telling where the sounds came from – and then roll her eyes with a fond smile at her girlfriend’s antics.

Something Vivienne had discovered about hard of hearing people: they listened. No, really. Somebody else would be distracted by something that happened around them, or would look at their phone or watch or hands or anything else before rejoining the conversation. Small things, really. MC didn’t do those anymore. Her attention was solely focused on whoever was speaking, watching their lips, interpreting their words. Or watching the signs, the body language, everything she could do to figure out what was going on and answer accordingly.

It was only at night that MC confided how difficult and exhausting and frustrating lip-reading was. The Poppy made an effort to sign, they had all gotten quite good at SSE, but sometimes they would go out and encounter somebody that didn’t know how to sign or somebody that wasn’t aware of what had happened to MC. It was all sort of situations, but MC took in stride.

“Baby?” MC’s drowsy voice cut through Vivienne’s thoughts. The pronunciation was a bit off, but charmingly so. MC had been horrified when Zoe commented on it, trying to correct it as soon as possible, but privately Vivienne didn’t really see why she worried so much over it. Her voice was beautiful no matter what. Or maybe Vivienne was just far too whipped. Hm.

She smiled against MC’s skin, feeling the heat of it call out to her like a siren’s song. She shifted a bit, so she could rest her head over MC’s chest, snuggling under the covers. It was a cold night, after all.

“Yes?” She mumbled, internally screaming in joy over the pet name. The vibration of her voice was all MC needed to know she was awake.

“I don’t think I’m up for seeing Jace tomorrow. Think we could reschedule?”

Vivienne hummed, toying with the thought. “I think so.” She finally drew the words on MC’s skin. Her fingers slid over the charred, dry zone that had been burned and she frowned a little, wondering if she should apply more ointment in the morning.

“Great.” MC said, softly. “And… we could… maybe we could watch a movie? There’s a new one that just began airing – I’ll ask Zoe for a subtitled version tomorrow.”

“Lovely.” Vivienne drew back.

“I love you.”

The little heart that was the seductress’ reply tingled in MC’s skin like invisible ink, pure and happy and warm like the first few rays of the sun, something that would linger for many days to come.

…

In the morning, as she had been doing this past month, the first thing she did when she woke up was straddle MC under her.

MC blinked owlishly, staring at her with a soft smile. She let Vivienne move over her, sighing contently at the soft touches from her lover. Vivienne made sure to stay in sight, so MC could see her lips.

With all that done, Vivienne began her worship.

Her hand cupped MC’s cheek, tracing the cheekbone down to the soft angle of her jaw, adoring. Long fingers then glided over her throat, down, down so she could move over her collarbones, one hand to the right, one to the left.

One hand slid over smooth, soft silk, while the other traveled against rough and dry edges carefully. MC’s eyes shifted at that, always hesitant over the marred skin, and Vivienne leaned down to place a kiss just above where the burns had been, as reverently as an astronaut would kiss the ground after months away from the Earth. She hovered there for a few seconds while her hand moved from MC’s shoulder to her side, finally coming to rest over her hip.

“You are beautiful.” She mouthed, leaning back. MC’s eyes flickered to her lips, catching the words, her smile stretching just a little bit more.

Vivienne continued, leaving a trail of kisses over that side, as she often did.

“These tell a story,” she said, and MC listened, brows knitted in concentration. “Of a brave woman that was too caring, and of a silly boy.”

MC starts to shake her head, aware of Vivienne’s resentment, but Vivienne is quick to place a finger over her lips to shush her.

“A silly boy,” she repeated, and for once her voice carried no venom. “That would have had a much difficult condition had that brave woman not intervened. These scars tell a story… and its outcome, filled with obstacles and changes and that one stubborn woman in the center of it all. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more determined in my entire life. But here you are, MC, here you are…”

She shudders with delight, her smile widening even more. One of her hand comes up to rest over Vivienne’s heart, to feel the vibrations of her voice.

“A warrior, an angel. You are the sun my thoughts spin around, always, forever. You came into my life and gave me a reason to become the woman I am today. You are always so optimistic, so breathtakingly beautiful, with you I-” Vivienne cut herself off, remembering to breathe, to pace herself. MC gave her a grateful nod, her expression soft with affection. “With you I feel like I might soar. You’ve taught me so much. You’ve taught me how to be accepting. To accept mistakes. To not run from them. And now, you’ve taught me the importance of not giving up. I admire you, you know?”

Vivienne looked at the scars again.

“The story these tell… It’s awe-inspiring. I’ll look at them every morning and remember how strong you are. Beautiful isn’t perfect skin and perfect hearing. It isn’t daring heists and life on the edge. Beautiful is you, are you are now.”

The kiss they share is gentle, loving, pure.

#Anonymous #answered #lovestruck #lovestruck qot #queen of thieves #vivienne tang #vivienne x mc #fluffy angst #lovestruck vivienne #qot vivienne #queen of thieves vivienne #tw explosion #tw scarring #miscellaneous monday #angst

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lokigayforhela · 3 years

Note

Can u do a Hela x fem!reader where Hela come backs and sees reader about to be killed by one of the asgardians because of her trying to help Hela. Hela saves her and they rule all of Asgard!

WC: 2793

TW: TW for mention of and description of wounds from torture, brief depictions of gore and violence, and technically character death, though there is no real attention drawn to it

A/N: Consider this an au in which Hela breaks out of her imprisonment much sooner than anyone expected, and naturally… it isn’t so pretty. Please enjoy~

The crash back down to Asgard jarred Hela far more than shecared to admit, her rather rough connection with the ground beneath knockingthe wind out of her as she pushed herself to her hands, trying to gain herbearings as quickly as possible.

Breaking herself out of her imprisonment had been no simpletask. Odin had placed a number of binding spells over not only her, but on Hel,as well. It had taken much of her strength and magic to break free of them, andshe’d been weakened a fair deal, as it was, from being away from Asgard as longas she had. It had taken every ounce of energy she’d been saving to find eachloophole in every spell in order so that she could successfully break through,and the task of physical getting toAsgard itself had used the last little bit of it.

But the good thing about being back on Asgard meant that herpower was replenishing, and she knew that the longer she was able to staythere, the more her power would grow, and soon she would be unstoppable again,even more so than before Odin had imprisoned her. After all, she’d had morethan her fair share of idle time to hone and train her skills. She could dothings not even Odin himself could do, and she had every intention of provingit.

But the foremost thought at the front of her mind was you.

She remembered how you had looked, the night she had beensent spiraling to Hel through the portal Odin had made. Remembered the guardsholding you back, remembered the wounds you had sported, no doubt given to youonce they had figured out that you were aiding Hela in her attempts to massacrethe guards and the Valkyrie, and seize the throne for herself.

She only hoped she wasn’t too late.

Long before she had even thought of taking the throne forherself, before it had even become an idea in her mind, before things had goneso sour, Hela had reveled in stolen moments with you, enjoying your company inhidden trysts in the garden, or secret little meetings between bookshelves inthe libraries late at night. Any time she could have with you, she wanted,everyone else be damned.

It had been during one of those nights together that Helahad used a spell to bind you together. A lovingly murmured incantation, and youhad been connected in a way that not many were. You could feel each other’spresence when apart, could tell where the other was without having to search,like a map you didn’t have to read. The feeling had gone away, once Hela hadbeen banned to Hel, and she assumed the same would have been said for you, butnow that she was back, she could feel it again, though it had grown weak, amere shadow of the strong sensation she had always felt from you.

She knew she had to move quickly.

She navigated her way through the streets of Asgard easily,as though nothing had changed in her presence, and to be truthful, little had.She wasn’t sure just how long she had been away, the days had always meldedinto the next, like an endless time loop she had been stuck in with nothing buther own thoughts for company, and so she knew it could have been weeks ormonths or even years since she had been on Asgard.

And those were weeks or months or years that the guardswould have had you in captivity, no doubt torturing you to try and get anydetails out of you. She doubted they would have had any use out of anythingthey might have gotten from you, as she had been imprisoned, and that had beenthat on the matter, but she knew how the guards had been trained.

She knew how shehad trained them.

She didn’t have much time.

With little care for stealthiness, she marched straight downthe path that led right to the palace, aware of all the eyes on her and thewhispers surrounding her. She wouldn’t have much time before Odin was alertedto her presence, and to be honest, she didn’t care. She would burn the cityover tenfold, if that was what it took to get you back in her arms.

By the time she’d reached the palace gates, there were anumber of guards at the ready. She recognized some, trainees that had madetheir way up the ranks in her absence, but most of them were entirely newblood.

She couldn’t help the smirk that spread across her face.

This would be almost tooeasy.

With minimal effort, and only a few waves of her hands, she’dsent a shower of swords across the palace courtyard, each razor-sharp bladelodging itself in the hearts of their mark, until the cobblestone of thewalkway had turned crimson beneath her feet, and she was left to continue towalk in an eerie silence.

Once she entered the palace, she found herself faced with adecision.

On one hand, if she went straight to you, she could ensureyour safety much more easily, but would have to have you along with her as shemurdered her way to the throne. But if she hunted Odin down first, she riskedhim commanding the guards to kill you, if you were still alive.

Unwilling to take that risk, she closed her eyes, reachingout with her magic to feel where exactly you were located in the nearbyprisons. The closer she got, the stronger she could feel you, but she was stillunnerved that the connection had grown so weak, and so with haste, she made herway to the dungeons, cutting down any and all who crossed her path, be theyguards or maids, caring little for how much blood she shed in her attempts tofind you, until finally, she was outside the cell they had you in.

Necrosword clasped tightly in hand, she took in the sight ofyou, dressed in tattered and worn clothing, far too large for your small frame.You’d been shackled from wrist to wrist, with just enough slack for you to bechained with your hands above you on the wall. Your face was pale, and shecould see bruises scattered like macabre freckles across your face, trailingbelow the collar of your shirt, and who knew where else on your body. You haddark circles under your eyes, and you looked like it had been days since you’dseen a proper meal. You hardly had the strength to keep yourself upright, allof your weight sagging against the cuffs around your wrists, which surely hadbeen rubbed raw already from the friction.

That alone would have been enough to have Hela’s bloodboiling. And then she noticed the guard in the cell with you, in the process ofwiping a blade clean on his tunic, and it was then that she noticed the trailof blood coming from somewhere under the hem of your shirt, staining the fabricof your pants as it dripped down from wherever you’d been stabbed.

“The other guards are cowards. Too uneasy at the thought ofkilling a woman. But there’s nothing of use that we could get out of youanymore, anyway, and we’ve had our fun with you, anyway.” The guard spoke in aslow, easy tone, clearly relaxed and assuming he had nothing to worry about. Helawatched in hard silence, as he took a step forward, raising your chin with afinger as he inspected you.

“Any last words, traitor?”

He was watching you closely, waiting for your response, butyou were not looking at him. You were looking past him, as Hela stepped out of the shadows and toward the barrierof the cell, a look of fury across her features, the likes of which you’d neverknown a person could be capable of.

“…Hela…”

The guard only laughed at your weakly-murmured response. “Yes,yes, we’ve been over this, all you want is Hela. Anything else?”

“You have something that belongs to me.”

Hela’s voice echoed harshly in the silence of the dungeons,and you watched the guard tense up. You assumed it was out of fear, but when hestumbled backwards a bit, it was then that you noticed the sword Hela had sent straightthrough the barrier and through his chest.

All you could do was blink as he fell, and by the time youtore your stunned gaze away from him, Hela had used magic to disintegrate thebarrier entirely, and was rushing into the cell, already working at the chainsbinding you.

“You’re okay, Y/N. You’re okay. I’ve got you now.”

Hela worked quickly, and in less than a minute, she’d gottenyou unchained and had pulled you into your arms, sinking to the ground as shetook on the full weight of you with ease, cradling you in her lap. You weren’tsure if you wanted to laugh or to cry, so instead you did both, still notentirely sure that what you were seeing was real.

“…is it really you…?” you murmured, voice rough and raw asyou looked up at her, praying to the Norns that she wasn’t a figment of yourimagination or only there to escort you to the afterlife.

“It’s me, my love. I’m here. I’m so sorry it took me so longto get back to you.” She kissed you gently, then, like she needed to prove toyou that she was real, or perhaps prove to herself that she was really therewith you, and you melted into the kiss immediately, bringing a tired hand up tocup her face when you drew back.

“…I thought I’d never see you again…”

“I know, my love. I know. But listen, we have to get you outof here. I’ll get you all fixed up, I promise, but there’s… there’s something Ihave to do first.”

You had a feeling you knew what she meant to do, and youwere in no position to try to argue with her or change her mind, so you onlynodded, and let Hela help you to your feet, hooking your arm over her shoulderas she wrapped an arm around your waist and led you back out of the cell and upthe staircase that would lead right into the palace.

You could hear shouts and panicked talking all around you,and you worried that Hela was going to get caught or ambushed, and that all ofthis would have been for naught, but anyone that dared to come your way was metwith a quick and brutal death by Hela’s hand, and you did your best not tothink about it.

It wasn’t until you’d reached the throne room that Helaslowed to a stop, tucking you in a hidden little alcove just outside the doors,where you knew you’d be unseen by anyone around.

“…this next part isn’t going to be pretty,” Hela admitted,and you could see the bloodlust in her eyes already.

“I know.” You winced as Hela leaned you against a marblecolumn, making sure you were as comfortable as you could be, and you fought theoverwhelming urge to close your eyes and drift off to sleep. “…do what you haveto do.”

Hela nodded, and kissed your forehead gently, taking yourhand in hers. “I won’t be long.”

You watched as Hela disappeared around the corner,exhaustion washing over you in waves too strong for you to keep ignoring. Yourvision faded to black just as the screaming started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You came to in a dim room, blinking the sleep from your eyesas you tried to clear your mind a little more. Before you even had the chanceto sit up, you felt a gentle hand on your chest, stopping you from moving.

“Don’t strain yourself, my darling, you’re still healing.”

Hela’s soft voice soothed you in a way you didn’t know youneeded to be soothed, and you reached a hand for her blindly, smiling softlywhen she leaned over you so you could see her face.

“…how long was I out?” you murmured through a yawn, slowlybecoming aware of the dull pain in your side.

“Only a few days. Your bruises are almost gone, but that wasa rather nasty stab you earned yourself on your side. It’ll take a little whilelonger for that to heal, even if I keep using magic.”

You nodded a bit, and brushed your fingertips along her jaw,like a small little reminder to yourself that Hela was actually there with you.

Hela smiled softly, but it faltered a bit as she looked atyou, like she was uncertain about how to word what she needed to say next. “Y/N,are there any other wounds I need to know about? The guards, did they… theydidn’t try anything, did they?”

“Oh, they tried. But I had a good teacher, you know?Eventually they got smart enough to stop trying.”

Hela grinned, and kissed your forehead gently. “That’s mygirl.”

You hummed softly, and for a long while, the two of yousettled into a comfortable silence. You were almost loathe to break it, but youhad your own questions that you needed answered, and you looked up at Hela whenyou finally spoke.

“…Odin?”

“It’s just us now.” Hela answered definitively, leaving youwith no doubt what had transpired after you had passed out. “I am Queen, andyou will be Queen beside me, just as we always talked about.”

You nodded, and smiled a little weakly, glad that you couldget away with it, given your current state of injury. It wasn’t that you didn’tlook forward to ruling with Hela. You’d always wanted nothing but her. You justweren’t sure you agreed with her path of action, despite how much you hadalways been willing to help her to get what she needed.

If Hela suspected any hesitation from you, she didn’t showit, and only leaned down to kiss your forehead gently. “The coronation will bein two days’ time. You’ll be well enough to stand with me by then, I’ll be sureof it. And the wedding will come whenever you’re ready.”

A wedding, you had to admit, did sound much more likesomething you could look forward to without guilt, and you smiled gently,nodding as you looked up at her.

“I was always ready. Back then. Now. Sometimes I feel asthough we’ve been married for our entire lives together already.”

“Well, now we’ll be able to be married in title, too. And allof Asgard and the Nine Realms will see our bond and know that it is true.”

The very idea was enough to soothe over the doubts you feltabout Hela’s actions, at least enough for you to push them to the back of yourmind for now, and you smiled, pulling Hela down so you could kiss her sweetly.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered once you had parted,leaning your forehead against hers and closing your eyes, just reveling in thefeeling of being with her again, after so long without.

“I thought about you every second of every day.” Hela spokesoftly, in a tone that was strictly reserved for you, and she shifted to laydown next to you, turning over on her side and loosely draping an arm over yourwaist, pulling you closer while being mindful of your wound. “I asked the Nornsfor strength every day, so that I might find a way to break free and get backto you. I’m so glad I wasn’t too late.”

You hummed softly, nuzzling your nose against her cheek asyou turned your head to look at her better, and you couldn’t help the flutterin your very soul when you saw the way Hela was looking at you, like you werethe very reason that the sun rose every morning.

“…I love you.”

Hela kissed you again, cupping your face and brushing herthumb along the curve of your cheek, lingering once she drew back so that shecould keep looking at you. “I love you, too. I’ll never leave your side again.We’ll be together for the rest of eternity. Just the two of us, I swear to you.”

She kissed you again, and you settled more comfortably, allowingyourself to doze off as Hela continued to cuddle you close, gentle voicelulling you back to sleep.

“I swear it.”

#Hela x reader #Hela Odinsdottir x reader #Hela #Hela Odinsdottir #Marvel #oneshot #mine #natashalance #ask #answered #thank you for the prompt #this is a monster of a prompt fill i apologize #it got a bit out of hand

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violet-knox · 3 years

Text

The M Word

Year 7 - Chapter 67

Summary: After finally arriving at the Astronomy tower, Severus tries to mentally prepare himself for the argument he knew was coming.

Word count: 2603

Previous Chapter - Chapter 1

Severus swallowed hard as you slammed the door shut, retrieving your wand and casting a few silencing charms, likely in preparation for what was about to be the worst day of his life. His hands shook, his eyes widening in fear and anguish. He wanted to beg for forgiveness, to defend himself in any way and plead with you, but he couldn’t find his voice, lost to the m-word he nearly let slip his tongue back at the library. The astronomy tower had been a place of such warmth, yet it seemed to bring him nothing but heartbreak. He thought when he’d first discovered it in his second year it would be a place of salvation for him, a place to get away, to find peace, but now, as he watched the love melt away from the one person he cared most about in this world, he thought perhaps the astronomy tower had lured him in all those years ago to feed on his misery.

His posture stiffened and his muscles tensed as you turned around, your breathing even, your eyes calm and your lips stretched into a frown he hadn’t seen in a long time. You stood there, staring at him as if you were waiting for him to speak, to give you an explanation of what had just happened, but he had none to offer. He watched as you shrugged your bag off your shoulders and crossed your arms, your weight pushed to one side of your body as you stood your ground. Your emotions were quite clear to him; anger, resentment, disappointment, disgust. He dropped his glance from your eyes, unable to handle the harshness they held any longer and immediately he saw your feet moving towards him, stopping so close to him, he could feel the rage fuming from your body.

“Severus.” You spoke in such a harsh tone, he could feel himself shrinking at the thought of what you would say next. He hated hearing his name spoken like that from your lips when he’d gotten used to hearing it spoken with love. He’d even stopped hating his name because of you, but now, in this moment, he was reminded why he could never stand to hear his name spoken by others. “What were you thinking?”

You were calm, at least, you tried to be. You knew shouting would do nothing but harm him, and the last thing you wanted was to start a fight. You needed him to talk to you, to figure out what was going on with him, why he seemed so insecure all of a sudden. Everything seemed fine over the summer. You’d never seen him so happy and he loved Hogwarts, always spoke of it like his true home. Had you been so caught up in your own life that you’d neglected to see him struggling since you came back to school?

“I-I’m sorry,” he managed to croak out. He felt weak, like he’d given you his entire life force, his energy nearly nonexistent. His mind spiraling in a panic, thoughts of what his life would be like if he lost you flooding his mind, memories of his love for you imploding with emotion. He couldn’t do it. Live in a world where you weren’t by his side, where he didn’t have your love to support him, lift him up when he felt down, your support and belief in him. He couldn’t do it.

“That’s not good enough Sev!” You took a step towards him and watched as he formed a frown of his own. He looked so sad and it broke your heart to see him like this. You had to push away the urge to hug him, hold him in your arms and tell him it would be alright. This was not the time for comfort, not when he’d nearly stepped over a line you were sure he would never come back from. “You need to tell me what happened in there? Why would you act like that? After everything we’ve been through, do you not trust me?”

You pleaded with him to open up, to tell you what it was that caused the scene in the library. You were angry with him for what he’d done, but more than anything, you were angry at yourself for not recognizing his struggles. You wanted to go back in time, to find the subtle moments you missed, the moments that made him feel abandoned and fix them, show him you were here for him, that he could trust you.

“No! I-I do. Of course, I do. I’ve just-I’ve had a rough day and Connor was holding your hand and-”

“That’s not an excuse!” You stopped him as he tried to mumble on, hearing enough to confirm your previous suspicions. He was hurting, life expecting from him more than he could handle but you knew there was more to it, that he was only using what happened with Slughorn as an excuse for his explosive reaction. You pleaded with him to see reason, to understand the actions he’d taken were not the ones he should have sought out. “And as for Connor, I can handle him. I could have handled it.”

Your voice was so calm, never once raising it, your eyes softening like you’d forgotten what he’d done and for a brief moment he felt hopeful. The flames of your relationship you’d both spent a year working to build dwindled, but it was still light. You kept it lit with the look of compassion in your eyes, the look of wanting to comfort him and all he wanted to do was swim in that feeling and grab hold of it before that too was taken away from him.

“I’m sorry,” Severus mumbled out the only words he could manage, hoping they were enough to help keep those flames alive, but as he looked into your eyes, your shoulders slumping as you went to cross your arms, all he could feel was the cold breeze he was left in as the fire reduced to sparks. His eyes watered, tears threatening to fall as he repeated in his mind how much he loved you, how he couldn’t lose you, how he was nothing without you.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” You nearly scolded Severus, your tone flat like you were speaking to a misbehaved child, and in a way, you supposed you were because only a child would act the way he had. Only a child would make excuses, apologize to the wrong person and tiptoe around his own emotions. You wanted him to take responsibility for what he’d done, and to learn from this situation never to suppress his issues.

“But it’s you I care about,” he spoke softly, needing to fix things with you before he even considered Connor. He did feel guilty, and he knew he had to apologize to him, but he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t care about the Ravenclaw until he’d done everything he could to salvage your relationship, to know it would survive this.

“And that makes it okay to brush Connor off? To treat him like you did?” You couldn’t believe the nerve of him, unable to imagine why he thought it was more important to apologize to you when it was Connor that he’d hurt.

“No! I-”

“Severus, what you almost called him, that is not something you can sweep under the rug.” A fire was reignited as the old one died, those one much more fuming, ready to swallow Severus up if he dare get too close. He could feel the heat of the flames as they radiated off of you, your anger towards him fuel to the fire you’d lit.

“So, does this mean we’re over then?” The words hurt as they travelled through his throat, his ears burning from the truth of his question. He could see it, the same anger that had pushed Lily away is what you held in your own chest now. Lily had known him much longer than you had, yet she happily walked away from him and he’d hurt you so often, he saw no reason for you to stay.

“What?” You stared at him in confusion, astonished he’d ask such a thing after an argument you hadn’t even finished yet. Did he truly think of your relationship as something so fragile it would break when things got tough? Was this why he’d held back his struggles from you all these months? You were naive to assume your summer together had made you inseparable, that you’d finally broken through that unbreakable wall of his and mended his heart with yours.

“I-I messed up, I know that. You’re mad and you should be-”

“That doesn’t mean we’re over!” You couldn’t hear anymore, you couldn’t bare it, the thought of you breaking up simply because you were upset with him tore you in half. You took a step forward and reached for his hands, holding them as you saw streaks of tears fall over his cheeks. You could see the seriousness in his words, that he truly believed half of an argument and the mistreatment of your friend would push you away, that you’d given up on him so easily.

Cupping his cheeks, you swept away his tears only to find them replaced with fresh ones as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. He sobbed as you held him, his hands pressing against yours as he tried to keep himself together. You were too kind to him, he didn’t deserve the empathy you gave him now nor did he deserve your comfort or assurance his assumptions were nothing more than horrible nightmares but he accepted it anyways. He held onto you as long as he could, feeling your warmth against his skin, the burning flame of your relationship glowing bright once more. As much as he tried, he couldn’t stop his eyes from leaking, tears dripping down his face, seeping into your sleeves, tainting the moment, but they were the most real thing he’d displayed in front of you in months.

For so long he’d been holding back, needing to keep your image of him as pure as could be, knowing burdening you with his issues would cause nothing but torment for you. This year had already put so much pressure on you with Quidditch and your struggles with what you were to do after graduation. You couldn’t stay at the orphanage anymore and had nowhere to go. And sure, Spinner’s End wasn’t exactly a paradise, but it was a roof over his head which was one more thing you didn’t have. He’d buried it all down, suffocated his own struggles, but it was clear as you held him now, that look you gave him, told him he’d made the wrong decision.

“Severus, I love you, that will never change. And sometimes we will fight, sometimes we will argue or disagree, but never would I let it come between us.” You wiped away the last of his tears as your words seemed to relax him a bit, your hands dropping to his shoulders and down his arms. You took his hands and led him to sit against the wall. This was far from over, but at least you’d managed to get something out of him, an insecurity you couldn’t believe he still held after all this time together. “Sev, you need to start talking to me. What happened today cannot happen again.”

“I know,” he whispered, sniffing as he brought his knees up to his chest. You slowly ran your hands over his arm, your grip tight like you worried if you let go, he’d break into a million pieces and he was sure if you weren’t here, he would already be shattered and broken in more ways than one. “I’m sorry (Y/N). I didn’t want to worry you with my issues, and I suppose I took out my rage on Connor instead. I shouldn’t have done what I did, said what I said.”

“Then let’s fix it,” you said softly, a hand gently running across his jaw to bring his attention back to you. His expression softened, hope returning to his eyes as you offered him a chance at redemption.

“Really?” he whispered in desperation for assurance, for the chance no one had ever given him before. He looked at you with such hopeful eyes, it almost broke your heart to know no one had given him the opportunity to grow until now.

“Nothing’s been done that can’t be reversed, so let’s start now,” you told him, smiling as you felt his muscles relax, his legs slowly falling to lay flat against the floor as he opened his heart up to you once more. “Tell me what’s been troubling you.”

“I-I worry I won’t make something of myself. That I’ll be stuck as the poor half-blood living as a Muggle forever. That I’ll never be worthy of you.” Severus opened up to you, his nerves growing the more he spoke. But at least he knew, at least he was assured he wouldn’t weigh you down with his words, that he had nothing to fear.

“Sev, you’re a brilliant Wizard, you’ll do an amazing job at whatever you end up doing after Graduation.” You tried to assure him, but you knew your words would mean nothing to him. No matter what you said, you couldn’t convince him otherwise, so you took a vow instead, to always support him, always congratulate and praise him in any of his future accomplishments no matter how small.

“You don’t know that!” Severus protested lightly, knowing full well you only said those things because you loved him.

“No, but I do know I’ll be there with you every step of the way. I know that you will always be worthy of me, that we will support each other, build a life together because I love you Severus Snape. Forever and always.”

Severus smiled, his cheeks sprayed with a light pink blush as he took in your words, hearing the truth behind each one, the emotion that carried through as you promised to love him for the rest of your life. He couldn’t believe his luck, how amazing you were, how patient and forgiving you were with him.

“Forever and always? Do you mean that?” he whispered, wanting to hear you say it one more time.

“With all my heart,” you replied, wrapping your arm loosely around his waist and hugging him. You felt his arms around you as he pressed himself to you as much as your positions would allow. You sat there awhile, for as long as he needed until you finally parted from one another. “Now, about Connor-”

Severus’ smile faded as he gave out a rather reluctant sigh. You smiled intern, glad he at least seemed to be aware of his mistakes and what was to come next. “I have to apologize.”

“Yes, but why don’t we plan what you’ll say to avoid any more unwanted hurt,” you smiled at him as he nodded. You couldn’t have been prouder of Severus as he went on to suggest the right words, knowing he’d learned from his past mistakes to rectify any new ones. He’d come so far and of course, he still had a long way to go, as did you, but it was a journey you were both happy to take together. A journey you knew would be full of support, and so long as you had that, there was nothing you couldn’t face together.

Next Chapter

#Severus Snape #Severus x reader #Severus Snape x reader #Snape x reader #young Severus Snape #young Snape x reader #my fanfic #my writing #pro Snape #snapedom #female reader

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

Firestorm Part 7: Tipping Point

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

You train with Kung Lao. This might be the final straw.

A/N: Next chapter is from Liu Kang's point of view. Also there will be a hilarious shopping chapter with Kung Lao and Chen at a reader's request. Hope everyone is doing well <3 Don't worry, there will be more fluff soon too.

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

The rain had dried up while you were eating and conversation had quickly become less awkward. You had managed to separate what had happened with Liu Kang from your friendship with Kung Lao mentally. You cared about them so much. Somewhere along the line you’d decided that your friendship with them was the most important thing to have. No matter who you chose, you wanted to maintain those friendships.

Though you were pretty sure of what your heart wanted at this point. You’d been sure of it for some time. Since that night in the rain when Liu had wrapped his arms around you, as a matter of fact. It had felt like home. Nothing had ever felt like that before. You knew that no matter what happened next, things would be okay between you.

You also knew that what was happening to you was extraordinarily complicated and dangerous. That was your biggest hang up through all of this. When it came down to it, that was the true dilemma. Because whatever happened with Kung Lao and Liu Kang? That was something you could fix, something you could work on. You were all just people making human decisions. This thing with your arcana, however? That was beyond your control.

You didn’t want to hurt them. You didn’t want to hurt anyone. You would gladly lock yourself away if it meant keeping everyone safe.

Things between you and Lao relaxed once you’d mentally coached yourself on the reality of the situation. You felt sobered by your own thoughts. It was something that you attributed to Liu Kang. Perhaps it was because of how frequently he’d helped you find your calm or maybe it was just that his calming presence had rubbed off on you.

This would pass.

All things did.

Kung Lao had agreed, with very little convincing, to go with you tomorrow to the nearest city to get your ‘lady things’. He’d hated you using that term which was precisely why you’d used it. It would keep him from asking questions. He’d asked you about lady problems the other day with disdain so you figured it would be the best excuse. Then after breakfast you made your way to the fight pit.

“We’ll start with your shoulder. But afterwards we’re working on your arcana.”

“Why? Because the shoulder thing is boring?”

“Yes, obviously.” Kung Lao teased. He seemed relieved that you had shaken your weird mood. You were relieved too. That brief moment of panic had threatened to send you into a spiral. But it had passed and you were rather proud of yourself for it. “And because you’ve been avoiding it.”

“I know, I know. I psyched myself out for a bit there. No more avoiding it. I promise.” You’d changed into a gi to prepare for training. You would do your best to try and keep from overdoing it but if Kung Lao could help you get a hold of your arcana than it would be worth the strain. He was watching you skeptically as he kicked up sand in the fight pit. “I mean it. I want to get back to where I was before this. At least. I want to be able to give you and Liu a run for your money again.”

“It’s nice to hear you sounding more like yourself.” Kung Lao turned away from you but you could see the smile on his face before he did. It was like he wanted to hide it. Why? It didn’t much matter.

After that you spent some time working on your shoulder. He really did have a few exercises to help stretch the muscles and strengthen them. It’d hurt but it had been worth it. He also taught you a few strategies to avoid putting strain on it in combat when you needed to. It was nice that your styles of Kung Fu weren’t too terribly different. Kung Lao understood which stances would put strain where and you picked up the modifications easily. For the first time in a long time you felt competent and strong.

Even with your shoulder the way that it was after the incident with Raiden you had managed to find your footing. And you understood your limits. You moved with confidence. Kung Lao went easy on you after that even if he denied it when you confronted him for doing it. You imagined that it had been traumatizing for him to watch his childhood friend struggle for weeks on end. you considered that you both needed therapy.

“Now your arcana.” He dusted his hands off and then wiped them on his pants. With that familiar tug of the strap beneath his chin, he removed his hat and sliced with it through the air before crouching low and back into his stance.

“Was that necessary or… were you just showing off?”

“I’m going to show you how I use mine.” He flipped the hat in his grasp and then slipped it back on his head with a polite bow afterward.

“So, showing off. Got it.” You muttered but caught the smirk on his face.

“Arcana has an energy all its own. With time you learn to recognize it.” Kung Lao tossed the hat into the air and it spun around the perimeter of the arena, twisting through the air. He didn’t so much as look at it, it just did as he commanded it to. Kung Lao walked toward you and without looking, he reached out and the hat flew into his hand. He placed it again atop his head. “It’s a part of you. You have to treat it like it is. Another limb if you will.”

“I’m fairly confident that you’re just showing off.” You smiled. He chuckled beneath his breath then tossed his hat again. It flew behind you and with a twist, he disappeared into the ground in a white light and then reappeared behind you, hat landing perfectly atop his head. Then, arms folded behind his back, he leaned over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Now I’m showing off.” He clicked his tongue and then walked in front of you. “But I’m also making a point. I’ve been using my arcana far longer than you have. To me it’s second nature. We need it to be that way for you too. Sometimes that means getting in control of part of you that seems beyond it.”

“…kind of like when learning martial arts.”

“Exactly. Learning how to use parts of you as a weapon or a shield. Your arcana is no different except that without the dragon marking, you wouldn’t have it.”

“It’s like those exercises you made me do early on, right? It’s about control.” You had understood that to an extent but putting it into terms you understood, like martial arts, had helped considerably. You hadn’t felt in control of much of anything for a long time. In fact, the last few times you’d even tried to use your arcana it was as though the control had been ripped away from you. If you could become more in tune with your arcana then maybe when whoever it was that was manipulating you with this curse nonsense showed up again, they wouldn’t be able to use you as easily.

“I don’t think the sorts of exercises that Liu used are going to be helpful for what you do. Your arcana is different. His was dangerous at first too, just in a different way. I think that most arcana, by nature, will be dangerous.” Kung Lao smiled fondly, as though the idea delighted him. “My hat was obviously dangerous too. It’s not like zapping around like I do is exactly safe. Or easy.”

“The implications of that are awful, Lao.”

“All I’m saying is that there’s a learning curve to everything. Even for warriors like me and Liu.”

“Is this your way of trying to make me feel better about my arcana? You know that you can just be encouraging. That works just fine.”

“What I’m trying to say is that this is difficult in the beginning for everyone. You get the hang of it, like anything else. Your circumstances are definitely abnormal Y/N, but not that much so. I know that the past few weeks have been difficult for you.”

“Kung Lao, you don’t need to reassure me. I’m okay. Really.”

“No, I do, Y/N.” Kung Lao frowned, brow furrowed with compassion, with worry. Who were you to argue with him? “I can be hard on you but only because I know what you’re capable of. But the truth is that we understand this isn’t easy for you. Even just having the mark and learning to control your arcana is a difficult task. But these circumstances have made it that much more complicated. You’re doing a wonderful job, Y/N. It’s why Liu and I are so understanding. We’ve been there before.”

“I appreciate that, Kung Lao, really…”

“Raiden understands too. I know he can come off as harsh but I don’t want you to think that he…”

“No, okay, stop.” You laughed and took a step closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. He bowed his head apologetically. Serious Kung Lao made you uncomfortable. It was just such a rare thing. What had brought this on? You struggled to picture him having moments of self-reflection but you supposed that he must have. Not enough to tell you about the best that he’d made with Liu, but still. “Do you think that this has me upset? Unhappy?”

“Um… yes.”

“There are parts of it that I struggle with, of course. This curse thing sucks. The inability to get back on my feet sucks. Feeling like a ticking time bomb? Not in love with it. But overall? I’m grateful to be here.”

“Even after Raiden…” He mimicked the action of shocking you and you laughed, then patted his shoulder sympathetically.

“He did what was necessary. I’m not holding it against him. And I’m grateful to have come to Raiden’s Temple, Kung Lao. Yes, it was kind of traumatizing and is a little scary but also… I got my best friend back. I never thought in a million years there was even a chance of that. I know that things are different for us now but I’m also so grateful that it was you that found me that day. Grateful that it was you that came into my shop all those times. Whatever brought you back there, Lao, I’m just so damn grateful. And I’m grateful to have met Liu Kang. He’s a wonderful friend. I’m even grateful for the crazy gossipy monks down in the infirmary. And grateful for Raiden. He’s kind of fatherly, isn’t he? In a weird way?”

“He can be. And he seems fond of you. He isn’t usually so nice.” Kung Lao smirked but you could see the relief behind his eyes. Apparently, he’d been the one who had really needed reassuring. You were happy to provide it.

“Well, it’s hard to be mean to someone you almost killed.” You joked and Kung Lao laughed. “We got super off topic here. We need to focus.”

“Yes, that’s what we were talking about. Focus. And control.”

“We are terrible at this.”

“We need to decide what works for you.” Kung Lao took a step back. “Can you summon your arcana for me? Your sword, perhaps?”

“Sure.” You stepped back and focused. He was right. There was energy around you and it wasn’t the first time you’d felt it and recognized it as your arcana. It was about focus and control. You could do that. In fact, you had excelled at both of those things. Being a teacher, you’d needed to be focused and controlled. You could do this. Especially today.

You had plenty of focus and control.

Without so much as a wave of your hand, you summoned your jian in a swell of ink. It dripped down your hand and formed the hilt and then the blade. It didn’t drain you and you smiled. It felt natural to do, like the sword was an extension of you. You flipped the hilt in your palm and then back again. Then you dropped into your stance and used your other hand to beckon Kung Lao to come at you for a fight. But he didn’t. Instead he clapped in a slow and unimpressed way.

“Now do more.”

“Excuse you? You said to summon my sword. I did that.”

“I want you to try and recreate me again.” He looked rather excited about that and your cheeks flushed.

“I don’t know how I did that, Kung Lao. I needed help and you weren’t there and I was worried that you’d been hurt too badly and then suddenly… ink you to the rescue.”

“I was your hero then, huh?”

“Don’t read into it, Lao.”

“You were worried about me too? Wow, a lot to unpack here, Y/N.” Kung Lao was trying not to look terribly smug and doing a terrible job at it.

“I mean, you are human, Kung Lao! Being thrown through a door and then a wall and then a door… that takes a toll on a man, I would imagine.”

“I’m still pretty bruised up, honestly.”

“I would imagine.”

“Well, I want you to try that again but without being in peril. You can’t rely on something like that in a panic. You need to be able to control it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I have a few ideas I can try. I don’t know if they’ll work but I’ll try.”

“When we’re finished, if you’re still worried about me then I’ll happily let you check me out.” He grinned and walked further away from you. You flushed but held your tongue. He was baiting you. Kung Lao enjoyed bickering with you. You knew that already and now wasn’t the time to give in. You were so terrible at staying on topic today. You had to focus! You were feeling so good about your strength and your arcana. You wanted to take advantage of that. Besides, flirting with Kung Lao was on a list of things that were difficult to deal with.

You focused on the ink, remembering how it had coated your fingertips in direr moments. You willed it to do just that and were pleased when it obeyed. It spread up to your shoulders. Your arms and fingers were stained black. Then you used your index finger to draw another sword and it materialized with your will. Slow, bored applause from Kung Lao again. It was like a pen. That was your true weapon, you’d decided. That gave you another idea.

What about words? Would words have power? You spelled the first thing that came to mind.

Fire.

Just like that, the word floated before you and then burst into flame. Kung Lao laughed, eyes wide with delight.

“What? No! Do it again.”

“Uh, okay…” You laughed and spelled ‘hat’, visualizing Kung Lao’s hat as you did. It materialized and clattered to the ground. Kung Lao made his way back to you and picked up the hat. It stained his fingertips, but he was able to toss it. It splattered against the wall but the ink didn’t stain the stone. Instead it decayed into a frail gray substance, like ash, before disappearing on the wind.

“You could create anything with that.” Kung Lao seemed to mentally be rattling through the possibilities. You were sure that it had limitations. Even as you considered what to make next, you could feel that it had drained you. Maybe that was your limitation. The ink would exhaust you before you created anything too catastrophic. That was a fair trade off. You could find a way to manage the weariness that went with your arcana.

He wanted to see that drawing of him again.

So you wrote his name and you could feel the excitement radiating off of him.

Kung Lao.

He stepped into his stance, face blocked out by his hat and ready for a fight. You focused your energy into his name and then the words spread out into a dome and created his hat. From the hat came the image of Kung Lao in a great leap. You gasped and covered your mouth. The ink was shaky so you focused harder.

The drawing of Kung Lao ducked into the same stance as Kung Lao. Then you had the drawing rush at him and feint left before attacking. Kung Lao blocked the attack and you maneuvered the ink duplicate, trying to remember the way that your father fought, the way that you knew Kung Lao fought. But the ink duplicate moved on instinct. You didn’t have to control it like it had strings. It had your knowledge of him.

That was until it stopped attacking Kung Lao and turned toward you. You willed it to turn back around but it didn’t obey you. What the hell? It approached you aggressively, using its hat as a blade with a spin.

“Whoa, hey, what gives, Y/N?” Kung Lao walked around the image of himself but then ducked out of the way as it sliced toward him. “Hey! Cut it out!”

“I’m not doing it!” You stepped back nervously as the drawing continued toward you. You stumbled in the sand and sunk your feet to get your balance but instead, you dropped through the ground into darkness.

You knew that hadn’t really happened. This was a feeling you recognized now.

You were having a vision.

Well, this was terrible timing.

You stood in a frozen wasteland. Everything around you was coated in a thick layer of ice. It looked like it had been a warehouse once. But then you caught sight of training equipment. A gym. You’d seen big gyms like this in the city but you had no idea where it was. Everything was so coated in ice that you couldn’t make out any of the signs. You were freezing.

In the distance, there was the sound of combat but it was muted, like you had cotton in your ears. You tried to get closer to the sound but had no real control over anything. Whatever this vision wanted to show you, it would show you whether you liked it or not. It was like you were on rails. It was cruel. To have felt like you had regained so much control only to have it stripped away from you. It was like something was playing an awful game with you where you always lost.

You refused to let it crush you.

Whatever your ink was doing outside of your vision you had faith that Kung Lao could handle it.

Two men fought, both masked and unnatural. This was beyond your understanding. One man was made of fire and the other was made of ice, holding a blade of the same ice. They were armored. They fought so quickly that you could barely make out what they were doing. Their movements were blurred in streams of ink. The fiery warrior sliced with a blade but the man made of ice blocked every blow. He then twisted the fiery man and threw him into a wall of ice that shattered. You ducked out of fear of the ice but again, you had no body, really. You weren’t actually there.

Their fluid fighting was a terrifying dance. They were both so threatening. These two men, whoever they were, were the most skilled martial artists that you had ever seen. There was a crashing sound behind you but when you turned to find the source, the world melted into a haze. You didn’t know what anything meant anymore. Sometimes the visions were so vague and blurry that they were barely visions at all. Maybe that thing in your head didn’t want you to see this particular vision.

When you opened your eyes again, you were staring into darkness. You could move again and you were awake but where were you? It was so damn dark. There was sand beneath where you laid. You were still in the fight pit! Distantly, you could hear Kung Lao fighting but there was a spinning wall of darkness between you and him. What the hell?

There was a vortex of ink swirling all around you, thick and slow moving. It muted all other sounds with a roar. Your heart was pounding out of your chest but you focused like Kung Lao had taught you. But no matter how you focused, the ink didn’t budge. You had no control over any of it even if you could feel that it was your arcana. It drained you just existing.

You touched the vortex in hopes that you could run through it to the other side but it sliced at your fingertips as though the vortex was made of ink needles. Was it protecting you? And if so, from what?

“Kung Lao!” You shouted but you couldn’t hear anything but the muted chaos of combat beyond. What had you done? What had you summoned? “Kung Lao!” You screamed to him but there was nothing. He probably couldn’t hear you.

Okay. Deep breaths.

You focused on your arcana. It spread up your hands and over your arms. You would draw a way out if you had to! As you made to draw a door, the ink was swept away from your arms and the tornado consumed it and roared threateningly, as if you had fed it. Maybe it wasn’t protecting you. Maybe it was imprisoning you. Your heart was slamming with panic in your chest. This couldn’t be happening! It couldn’t! You had to get this under control.

But you were panicking.

Maybe you were better off without the mark. Maybe you should be locked away so you couldn’t put anyone else in danger!

Then there was a horrible, loud ringing in your head.

You held your hands over your ears to try and escape it but it was in your head so there was no escape. It was so loud that it was making you feel sick. Your legs wobbled so you shrunk down into a crouch and tried to breathe through the painful sound. It reminded you of the dolorous ringing of the bell. The bell that had cracked along with your shoulder. That was it. It was the bell. Your shoulder was aching so much so that you could have collapsed. But you refused to fall.

This wouldn’t take you again.

It wouldn’t hurt you again!

“Who are you?” You yelled in frustration. Because that was what was happening. There was someone else there, something else there, that horrible demonic thing was destroying you, using you. “Who is doing this? Face me, coward!” You taunted in hopes of drawing it out. You didn’t think it would work but the ringing stopped. You managed to stand up but your legs were trembling beneath you. “Who’s doing this?” You shouted again but suddenly you weren’t alone. You expected the demon to walk right out of the ink.

But it wasn’t the demon.

Instead the icy warrior from your vision stepped out of the ink of the vortex, made of the same ink that formed it. He was dripping with it but you could see the details of his outfit his armor, his mask imprinted in the ink. The air became frigid within the vortex. You knew now that he had been the one that had coated that whole gym in ice. How powerful was he that he could do that? And who was he?

Panic shot through you but you stepped back, careful not to back into the vortex. How? How did whoever was manipulating you have such a hold on you? What kind of curse could do this? Who had this kind of power? It was too dangerous for you to have arcana. Too dangerous for you to be in Raiden’s Temple. Too dangerous for you to have the mark. You were dangerous.

You summoned your sword. The vortex tried to consume the ink, as if hungry, but you refused to allow it. It took nearly all your strength and the aching in your shoulder spread into your chest but you refused to give in. You yelled in frustration and charged at the man who stood threateningly before you. He summoned a blade of shadow and ice and stabbed toward you with a graceful twist. You blocked but barely. His icy blade left shards of ice on your sword and it spread toward your hand. You tried to shake it off but the jian shattered and you let go of the hilt. The vortex devoured the remains of your sword.

You summoned another but the panic was making you shake.

You had to stop it. Something had to stop it.

If you had to then you would do something drastic. You wouldn’t let your arcana destroy everything.

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