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#and that the highest i’ll go is a fist bump because i didn’t want to find out what theyd do if i said no to all touch
z3llous · 2 years
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Good Boy ch8
I thought I posted ch 8 on here... but apparently not, sorry about that
Note: Bitch is gender neutral to me ok?
@vemuabhi
@vission-kid
(just in case ya’ll missed it, sorry)
Good Boy masterlist
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The sun had barely arisen, the sky turning a pale blue. The birds sang their song and the morning dew dripped from the leaves of trees.
There he was at such an early hour humming a soft tune as he stirred the sweet batter around and around.
He'd wrongfully hated them less than a month ago and now here he was making cupcakes for their potential victory against a test.
For years Sanji assumed Y/n to be nothing more than a brute and a nuisance to all the teachers who so kindly tolerated them. To say he assumed incorrectly would be an understatement.
There wasn't a single person out there who brought him such feelings of warmth like they did.
Cupcakes were the least he could do to make up for the hatred he held toward them for so long. He owed them.
It was similar to way he felt about Zeff, but for entirely different reasons.
Long ago he ran away with no intention of ever coming back. He became a street rat, or at least that's what the townspeople called him.
A kind chef by the name of Zeff took pity on him and gave him food and shelter in return for assistance.
Eventually Zeff decided that a change in scenery would be good for business and the two moved far away from France.
His debt toward Zeff was out of gratefulness, and Y/n out of guilt for thinking poorly of someone he'd grown to lov- like.
Yes, "like". That was certainly the right word for it.
---
Y/n stared at the paper wide eyed. They couldn't believe it.
Not only had they passed, but they had passed with the second highest score in the class, Sanji himself being the one to hold the highest.
As soon as lunch break began Y/n grabbed both Sanji's hand and his bag and raced to the roof.
" I FUCKING DID IT!" They shouted upon arrival.
"I know!" He said happily and a bit out of breath.
"We should should study together from here on out!" They said with brightest smiled he'd ever seen.
"Of course, how does every Friday sound?" He just couldn't say no, not that he wanted to.
Waking up in their bed again didn't sound too bad, he could tolerate it.
"Thank you!" Y/n pulled him close and into a hug out of pure excitement.
"N-No problem." He said returning the hug, hoping they couldn't feel the racing of his heart.
"What's the rush?" Ace said opening the door to the roof, interrupting the moment.
"I passed the test!" Y/n cheered letting go of Sanji and walking up to Ace.
"Oh! Nice!" Ace fist bumped them.
"If passing is this big of a deal, then you're screwed, Ace." Sabo said having been right behind Ace the whole time.
"Hey!" Ace said in half assed fake anger.
"C'mon, I didn't make cupcakes just so everyone could stand around and chat the whole break away." Sanji said having already sat down and pulled the bento boxes out of his bag.
"You made cupcakes?!" Y/n exclaimed and quickly sat down beside him.
"Yeah, and you're lucky I packed the frosting separately rather than frosting them at home, because they'd be a mess from you dragging me up here." He chided in an affectionate tone.
"Oops, sorry." Y/n laughed guiltily.
"It's alright, I thought ahead." Sanji smiled and began frosting the cupcakes.
---
"What would you have done with these cupcakes if they failed, Sanji?" Sabo asked finishing the last bite of his cupcake.
"They'd just become pity cakes." He laughed putting the cupcake box away.
"Nooo not pity cakes. That would've sucked. I mean imagine making celebration cupcakes and then I just  fail." Y/n groaned.
"Don't think about what could've happened. You passed didn't you?" Ace nudged them.
"You're right." They sighed and wiped some frosting off of their hand.
"I'll be right back, gonna take a trip to the bathroom." Sanji said getting up and dusting himself off.
"Alright, don't take too long. It'd be shame if you spent the rest of lunch in the bathroom." Y/n teased.
Sanji just waved it off and left.
---
Upon exiting the bathroom he found himself surrounded.
"Y/n isn't around to save your ass like they always do." Jared sneered.
"What you mean by always?" Sanji said with a confused expression.
He could've sworn it was only once.
"Don't play dumb with me! That bitch has been on our asses if we so much as glanced at you wrong for years." Jared angrily approached grabbing him by the collar.
Shit...
---
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aedifcare · 3 years
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pleasantanathema · 3 years
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Reiner Braun | Instinctual Invitations
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Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)
Warnings: ABO Dynamics (Alpha Reiner x Omega Reader), Breeding, Marking, Mating, Knotting, Heats, Ruts, Frenemies to Lovers
Word Count: 5k
A/N: Part of my Nine Muses Event to celebrate 9k! Follow the link to read other fanfics I’m writing to celebrate. This was definitely a labor of love. I’ve fallen back into my appreciation for ABO dynamics, and Reiner just screams “perfect mate” to me. 💜
          No one made suppressants stronger than Hange. They never divulged just what was in their special concoction, but all you knew was that it was damn near impossible for someone to discern that you were an Omega.
           You’d even fooled that naive, arrogant, hubristic Alpha partner of yours for years. There was a particular disdain you held for Reiner. You could never really name it, but all you knew was that working with the giant man made your instincts sour. He seemed so good on the outside, all prideful charm and heavy pats on the shoulders of his peers, but when the two of you worked cases alone, his charisma always had a bite to it.
           Maybe it was because he could tell there was something equally off about his “Beta” partner, maybe it was because he had some pent up rage inside him he only let seep out around you. You didn’t know, you didn’t care. You were patiently waiting for him to be re-assigned to the Behavioral Science Unit like he’d requested last month, but Erwin’s dawdling with the request had you worried he wasn’t about to separate his most successful Scout partners, even if they didn’t get along.
           “Is my bow tie straight?”
          Reiner asked you to hold his drink while he fiddled with the offending cloth.
           “Yeah.”
           “You didn’t even look.”
           The whiskey from his glass was expensive, sliding down smooth when you took a drink. Rei let out a very frustrated noise, so loud and huffy it had the guests of the award ceremony glancing toward him. The hotel ballroom was crowded, filled with elites from Military Police, Scouts, even the fucking Garrison. There were too many people here to watch you and Reiner stumble over the acceptance speech; there were too many people here to judge that Scouts were being awarded this time around.
           “Now your fucking lipstick is all over it.”
           “Oh please, it tastes like cherries, you’ll get over it.”
           Both of you were nervous, flattered but timid about being given a Meritorious Achievement Award for all your fieldwork done killing and documenting titans around the outer-wilds of the city. Fighting for survival in the trees was less stressful than trying to make a good impression on the brass as you received one of the highest honors.
           You took another gulp of his drink before passing it back, trying to stave off the very worrisome nerves twisting in your gut. Sweat was forming at the nape of your neck, staining your palms. You shifted uncomfortably in your heels, feet feeling heavy.
           It made you feel some better that the usually proud Alpha next to you was just as worried about giving a speech in front of Dhalis Zachary. The Premier was known for being strict, for demanding that military appearance be of the highest standard in front of donors.
          Reiner was still fucking with his tie, angry muscles about to rip the threads of his tuxedo.
          “You look fine,” you sighed, toning back the bitterness. You moved away from the balcony railing, wrapping your fingers around the black polyester ribbon and tightening it into sitting straight under his square jaw. But for some reason, you couldn’t let go, nails gripping into the fabric.
          “Are you okay? You looked scared to shit,” Reiner plucked your hands off his tie, holding a wrist in each burning hand, “I can do all the talking, you know. You can just stand there and look pretty.”
          “Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You weren’t. You knew this feeling, it was old and familiar, a churning pain laced with need slowly brewing in your belly, making you sick.
          But your suppressants would take care of the issue, surely it was just your nerves that were making those heats you’d forsaken start to claw at you.
          You hadn’t gone through a heat cycle in three years. Hange had suggested you take time off once a year to let your body go through it’s natural process, but you’d been so damn busy that you’d neglected to do so. Besides, you never had any issues, just a few flare ups when a particularly good looking Alpha close to their rut got near you.
          This time was different, though, you could feel it. This flame wasn’t going to be extinguished once it got started—you’d have to go home after the gala and curl up, stop taking the suppressants in the morning so your heat could come to life in the next few days.
          God you dreaded that feeling, cunt always quivering and squeezing around nothing, sweating in a blanket nest that only carried your scent and maybe a lingering, nameless male scent from a one-night stand.
          “Hey,” Rei moved his hands to rest on your shoulders, shaking you, “get your shit together. We’ll be awarded in a few hours and then we can go the fuck home. Tired of being around your bitchy ass anyways.”
          His hands were too hot. They were sweaty like yours, making you feel dizzy.
          “I’m gonna be sick.”
          You could feel it. Reiner could smell it.
          “What the fuck is wrong with y—”
          He dropped the last syllable, golden eyes turning into molten amber the moment your scent hit him full force. You thought he’d take his hands off, that he’d give you some space, but those instincts to protect must have taken over because he was pulling you closer like that would help.
          “You’re a Beta, you don’t go into—”
          “Omega, Rei. I’m a fucking Omega and I don’t need you telling anyone about it.”
          You whispered your confession, eyes going glassy as you looked around the room, saw faces turning in your direction. Most of the old men here were mated, but that didn’t mean the building brew of the heat of an unmarked Omega wouldn’t catch their attention. Your neck throbbed, scent glands betraying you and pumping beneath your skin.
          You felt like clawing at Reiner’s chest, digging your fingers into the perfectly pressed designer shirt and burying your face into it to be overwhelmed by Alpha presence. You thought you could stave this off, but the nerves, this proximity to an Alpha...you needed to get the fuck out of here.
          “You’re going to have to take the award for-for both of us,” oh now you were stuttering, you were losing it, Reiner’s deeply masculine scent making you feel like a puddle. You hated these instincts, hated how it made you feel weak, hated how he smelled like the most inviting bakery and familiarity and how it made you want to fall to your knees and beg for the aching hole between your legs to be stuffed.
          “You can’t get home on your own, do you know how many Alphas would kill for—”
          You were pulling away from him, grabbing your purse so you could scrounge for those emergency suppressants to hopefully curtail this heat.
          The pills were absent, your resolve fading as you felt like crumpling into the floor and clutching your stomach. You knew people were starting to notice, noses in the air to find out where the overly sweet smell of an Omega was coming from.
          “I don’t need your help.”
          “Who else knows?” You didn’t like how the rumble of his voice made your skin tingle, made your panties feel too tight, wet.
          “Hange, Levi, the higher ups. They know, they saw it on my app-application. Said it would be…” you were starting to lose your train of coherent thoughts.
          “...best if no one knew?”
          Omegas were scarce. Omegas were weak. But you’d proven yourself in your training, you were too valuable for Commander Erwin to deny your approval into the Scouts.
          “Just—just tell people I got sick. That the stupid little shrimp hors d'oeuvres... f-fuck me,” you meant to say something else, something like they fucked with me, but all you could think about was how those strong hands felt on your shoulders and how they would feel so good pawing at your hips as he plowed into you to relieve your stress.
          Making a beeline out of the ornate, crowded ballroom, you had to excuse yourself as you bumped into a few backs and sides, stumbling over your feet as the clawing need in your stomach made you lose focus. You just had to get home. Grab a cab. Hope it’s not an Alpha driving, just get home to your nesting pillows and bury your fingers into your—
          Reiner was calling your name. If he was your Alpha you’d be stopping in your tracks to listen to his commands, but he wasn’t. He was your terrible, annoying...strong, capable, definitely had a fat cock…
          You didn’t know what you were thinking about when he finally caught up to you, pushing you outside the front doors. You wished it was winter, but it was a hot summer night, which just made the heat in your body worse, made your scent heavier, floating on the humidity. And there were people around, lobby boys taking in bags and tired families dragging their feet inside. Still the fresh air felt good, or at least it did, until Reiner invaded it with his scent again.
          “I’ll get you home,” he placed his hand on your lower back, palm touching bare, tender skin from the low cut of your dress, and you came undone. You pressed yourself into his thick chest, wrapping your arms around him and fisting them into the back of his shirt. You could hear him grunt at the contact, the two of you never the type of partners to go beyond a pat on the back or a punch to the arm.
          “N-not gonna make it home…”
          “Fucking shit I always knew there was something different about you.”
          He was dragging you back into the hotel, firm hand around your wrist.
          “I can’t help how I was born.”
          “Yeah but you could have fucking told me.”
          You quit your bickering as Reiner paid for a hotel room, you pressed to his side and trying to mask the scent of ripe, ready to fuck Omega underneath simmering Alpha. You snatched the key card on the counter from a very concerned concierge, listening but not really as she explained there were special rates for those in heat.
          “I didn’t want you to know.”
          People were staring now, the smell of Omega becoming so heavy it even bothered you. Rei tucked his arm around your waist, leading you toward the elevators. There was a sour, thirsty taste in your mouth as you listened to your heels clink upon the marbled floor. The scent of arousal was on him, but it wasn’t his fault, just his biology reacting to yours.
          You straightened your shoulders as you saddled up next to him in the elevator, watching the doors slowly close.
          “Reiner—”
          “Shut up.”
          He was on you in an instant, heavy body pressing you into the mirrored wall.
          “I should have known,” his voice was low, like he was divulging a secret, “a little Omega under my nose all long.”
          You gasped as one of his hands skimmed up your thigh, thumb swirling circles upon your skin.
          “D-don’t do this here, I can’t—” you couldn’t take it, you were putty in his hands, already looping a leg around his thigh and fussing with the buttons on his shirt. You needed to feel his skin, needed to drown in the scent of an Alpha.
          You were half way through peeling his shirt off his pectorals, that goddamn bowtie still in place, when your throat began to hurt. Reiner actually laughed at you when you paused your hasty undressing, having to cradle the left side of your neck as your scent glands throbbed, begging for teeth to be sunk into the sensitive skin to be marked, claimed.
          “Don’t you dare think about m-marking me,” god you wouldn’t be able to stop stuttering until you were stuffed with something, until you were able to chase away the aches before they returned again in a few hours.
          “But isn’t that what little Omegas want?” He was toying with you, grin so cocky you felt like sinking your thumbs into his smile and hurting him. His fingers were under your dress, dangerously close to your aching sex. His hand was so hot against your skin, so calloused and strong. You felt like Icarus, like you were flying too close to the sun. The pad of his index finger curled against your panties and you could have sworn you were already burning.
          You lifted your lips to catch his, only to have him turn his cheek as the elevator chimed, signaling your arrival to your floor.
          You followed in his steps, tracing your dress hem from where his giant palm had touched it, your fingers moving it even higher to try to alleviate the warmth stemming from between your legs. The keycard was heavy in your hand, like it was about to open a door to something wicked.
          “I-I can take care of this myself,” your placed your back against the door to your room, “and I’ll pay you back for the fees, just let me—”
          “Just let you what? Go fuck yourself in misery for the next five days?”
          God he looked so tempting, so big. He towered over you, scents of sex and earth and spice, like black cardamum and the bitter burn of peppers. You wanted to sink your fingers into his blonde hair and pull, pull him down to you, into you.
          But you reminded yourself you’d be patiently waiting for him to leave your life. Mating with him could have him sticking around, could have the two of you fucking up and getting attached.
          “Y-you have to accept the award,” you were literally slipping into the floor, gut twisting so badly that it felt like you were being ripped apart, your heat bursting into full bloom after his teasing touches. Reiner caught your upper arms to keep you up, making you whimper, and you knew the last thing you wanted was to be alone, even if it meant ruining yourself on Reiner’s cock.
          “Your scent has made me harder than I’ve ever been in my fucking life. I paid for the room because I’m staying in it, sweetheart.”
          He took the card from your weak fingers and shoved it into the reader, a big, heavy palm pressing against your stomach and pushing you into the open doorway. He kept his fingers on you, twisting his knuckles into the fabric of your dress.
          “Rei, don’t—”
          “I’m so fucking tired of playing games with you.”
          The threads snapped with a twist of his wrist, the delicate front of your dress parting as the heavy hotel door slammed shut. His hands were rough, quick, tearing and pawing at your dress, your bra, and all you could do was moan and kick your heels off to be forgotten on the floor.
          He pulled his crisp black jack off his shoulders, tossing it onto a desk chair, trousers and everything underneath following.
          “I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” You were already on him, pressing your naked chest to his and standing on your toes so you could bury your face into his neck. You couldn’t help but to purr, that soothing musk of Alpha encompassing all your senses. Fingers sunk into his body, your tongue hot against his skin as you laid kitten licks to his throat.
          “No wonder I can’t stand you,” Reiner’s hands were gliding down your back, admiring smooth, willing flesh, “why you make me fucking crazy.”
          “Please shut up and fuck me.”
          His tempting hands found your neck, thumb petting at the sore, pounding spot on your throat. It only made your scent stronger, made you keen and practically fall into him.
          “Kiss me first, like you mean it.”
          You didn’t have to be told twice.
          Any fight you had left dissipated when his tongue slipped into your mouth, hands still encased around your neck and keeping you pliant for him to taste. Your nails sunk into his shoulders, toes hurting from strain as you pushed your mouth up into his. God he tasted so good, like the first taste of food after starving, and your body had been starving for years. Unknotted, unmarked, your body was screaming for him, looking for an Alpha to fill you in ways that your measly attempts over the years never could.
          Violence was on the tip of his tongue, you could taste it, feel it in the way he started to squeeze the delicate column of your throat. Rut was kicking in, the overwhelming pheromones of Omega making his body respond, ready to knot, ready to devour.
          Slick was pouring down your thighs as you kissed him, body overly ready for him. Your stomach was twisting in coils, so painful that it made you gasp and pull away from his kiss, ready to fall into the floor if his hands didn’t keep you on your feet.
          “H-hurts, so, so bad,” you whined, trying to focus your breathing.
          Reiner started slowly moving you back toward the bed, thumbs now petting at the apples of your cheeks as tears started to form in your lower lashes.
          “Shh, shh, it’s okay, Alpha will take care of you.”
          Normally, the thought of Rei referring to himself as Alpha would repulse you, make you gag at how arrogant he was, but in this moment it made you so weak, made you moan as he crawled over your body on the bed. You were so little under him, dwarfed by brawn, small prey begging to be snatched and taken.
          His title was on the front of your mouth, ready to fall out, for you to call him what he was to you, but the sliver of sense you had left kept it at bay. You knew calling him Alpha could put you in a heat induced headspace you might not be able to come out of, might have you making lusty, hasty decisions that you’d regret once this god forsaken heat was over.
          “Rei-ner,” it was forced, he could tell, the syllables stuck to your tongue.
          He nuzzled into your neck, purring as he fell into the intoxication of your scent glands. Hands raked over your body, each touch jolting you like electricity, the webs of nerves under your skin coming alive as he toyed with you. Your legs spread instinctively to make room for his hips, but he kept his weight off of you, propping himself on his elbows.
          “So fucking perfect,” he mused, thumb trailing along your swollen lips, smearing the lipstick he’d complained about earlier, “should’ve told me sooner. I would’ve fucked you through every heat.”
          His words made you coo, made your fingers weave into his blonde hair and pull him down for another kiss. You couldn’t get enough of his taste, whiskey and fire and something sickenly sweet, like pure honey over powdered sugar. Reiner was still holding back, you could practically feel growls stuck in his chest when your hands eagerly wandered over his plush pectorals.
          So big. He’d be such a good protector. Such a good mate.
          “Need you, need you, Rei, p-please,” you shifted your hips as you spoke, ready to flip onto your stomach so he could take you from behind. It’s how you got through all the heats you ever had before; face down in pillows, letting some Alpha fuck you senseless like nature intended. But his hands stilled you, pinned you down below him.
          “Wanna watch your face as I take what’s mine.”
          The tips of your ears felt scorched from his words and the blood in your body flushed under your skin.
          His. You wanted to be his, fuck, you wanted your Alpha, needed him, need him to knot you and—
          “Take me, f-fuck, I hurt so bad,” you were crying again, the pain in your womb like a knife sawing through flesh, twisting and turning.
          “Gonna take such good care of you.”
          And you knew he would. That’s the way Reiner was. A protector. A provider. Arrogant to mask the sweetness, prideful to hide the humility.
          Big hands cupped your cheeks as his cockhead brushed through your folds, sending your neck flying back as you screamed just from the relief of feeling him spread your overheated slick.
          “Gonna fill you to the brim with my cum.”
          That broke you. Your last little grip on your sanity was remembering that Hange’s suppressants didn’t mix well with birth control. You hadn’t been on the pill for years, and with how strong this heat was, how repressed your body had felt, you were probably more fertile than you’d ever been.
          “Fuck,” your hands found his face, and when he looked at you, you sailed away in the gold currents of his gaze, “breed me.”
          His massive cock started to sink into your tight hole, the copious amounts of slick gushing from inside of you making his penetration easier. But even still, he was so engorged with blood and hormones ready to knot that his fat cock struggled to breach that first tight ring of muscle. You hissed, not from pain, but from relief, so ready to be full that no amount of stretching would detract from your pleasure.
          Heavy hands were on your hips, pulling you down to take all of him in. He was finally growling, your walls constricting around him and making him go absolutely mad.
          “Gonna breed you, Omega, give you my babies, f-fuck yes, have you dripping with cum.”
          The blinding pleasure was almost devastating, making you feel numb, making you feel like this was all you ever needed in the whole goddamn world—all you needed was Reiner’s cock to bring you rapture, to have you ascending to the holy planes that zealots coveted.
          “Move,” it was a quick plea, your legs curling around his waist in encouragement, “please, please fuck me, breed me.”
          He started a slow pace, but was enough to have you spiraling, eyes fluttering shut as you got lost in him. One of his hands swatted at your cheek, just enough to sting.
          “Eyes open. Watch me, be with me.”
          You tried your best to obey, but the drumming of his cock in your cunt had you seeing dark spots even as your eyes opened again. Reiner kept his hand on your face, locking it around your jaw so you watched him as he fucked you, his beautiful, defined cheekbones tinted pink as he became overwhelmed with his rut.
          How many times had you looked at him before? How many days had you spent working alongside him, doing your best to avoid looking at him? He got under your skin, made you feel weak. Maybe this was why, maybe you were repressing just how much you wanted him. Maybe he was meant to be your—
          “Alpha,” you breathed it out, let it fan over his ears, let it sink into his psyche.
          The word felt like a relief, like a sin. That attachment you feared was already caging you in.
          His pace kicked up to something brutal as you acknowledged not just his biology, but his title to you.
          You screamed so loudly that it hurt, had your throat burning as your moans bled into whines and mewls as he took from your willing cunt.
          A cacophony of sex filled the hotel room, the sound of primal grunts, shrill little screams, of flesh against flesh, balls slapping against your ass, his cock ramming into your squelching, drooling pussy.
          “That’s right, fuck, you’re mine, Omega. Mine.” He repeated the last word a few more times as he bent your legs farther back, straddling your thighs with his muscular legs as he folded you into a mating press. His cock began to stroke that sweet, spongy spot inside of you at the new angle, drilling into you at just the right curve to have you cumming before your body could even enjoy the build up.
          You shattered, cunt clenching and as you were so pleased to orgasm around a thick Alpha cock. You were babbling nonsense, even thanking him for letting you cum. Just a string of pleas and AlphaAlphaAlpha pouring off your tongue and melting into his sweaty skin.
          Your orgasm had your scent fresh in the room, had your neck fucking pounding with the need to be bitten, to be claimed.
          Reiner could smell it, could smell your insatiable need, instincts picking up on words you just couldn’t say.
          “Let me have you,” he demanded it between kisses to your shoulder, lips trailing up and stopping at the saccharine reek of your scent glands just below your jaw.
          He wouldn’t claim you without permission, he wasn’t that kind of man, wasn’t that kind of Alpha.
          You fell into a symphony of moans, neck tilting back in instinctual insinuation, but mouth still unwilling to make that plea. But then his scent overwhelmed you again, like spicy hot peppers and the sweetest sugar flooding over your body. You knew that scent by heart, had smelled it in smaller increments every day for years, had tried to ignore it, but now you couldn’t.
          His cock was swelling inside of you, his ruthless pace and your lingering orgasm edging him closer to release. The hand on your hip had bruised your skin, perfect indent of his palm, his long fingers, etched into your skin. The other was pulling at your neck, pushing your face to the side as he skimmed the bridge of nose along your skin, waiting, wanting.
          “Omega,” he purred, calling you, begging you, “please, yours, mine.”
          He was losing his thoughts too, drowning in instincts and euphoria.
          Your fingers laced in his hair, pulling his mouth closer to what he wanted.
          “Yours, Alpha, f-fuck,” your acceptance was loud and clear, even through the fog and sounds of sex. One bite was all it took, teeth barely sinking into your skin. You cried from how good it felt, that ache finally silenced as his tongue lapped over that patch on your neck that could now only belong to him.
          A bond was tightening, something scientists still couldn’t fully explain—being marked, claimed, it tethered you to someone beyond all comprehension. It was like making a deal with a devil, selling your soul, and for you, it was an admittance to attraction and acceptance of intimacy that you felt with Reiner.
          The act of marking had his cock swelling inside you, knotting you and spilling his seed into your depths to stay. That overbearing fullness had you tumbling over the orgasmic mountain again, had you clinging and screaming, colors you’d never fucking seen before bursting in the corners of your eyes and traveling over your body like fireworks. You shivered in his arms, quaked, fell apart, and he held you. Purring, comforting, like he’d finally brought you home.
          Time didn’t seem to exist, lines between pleasure and pain so blurred that you couldn’t even feel the burn in your legs from being spread open for so long. You stayed in that mating press for what felt like hours. Reiner kept kissing at your neck, letting his scent blend in with yours.
          You’d never smell the same again. You’d always be tainted with him, carry bits of his scent with you forever. The thought didn’t even bother you, just brought you comfort, made you purr as your fingers lazily threaded through his hair.
          Finally, his cock became soft enough for him to pull out of you, lines of cum dripping from your abused pussy as he fell on his back next to you.
          The love hormones kicked in, had you curling around him even as you stretched out weary muscles. You were ready to sleep, ready to rest until the next wave of your heat came in a few hours and had you pleading for him again.
          But a pesky thought plagued your mind, a jealous one, one you’d never had about another Alpha before.
          How many other Omegas had wanted what was yours? How many of them had Reiner denied a claim to before you?
          “Why me?” you murmured into his heaving chest, fingertips drawing aimless circles in his downy chest hair.
          “Could ask you the same thing.”
          You sat up to look at him, to let him cup your cheek as his eyes flickered over your face.
          “How many Alphas have wanted you?”
          There was solace in knowing he had the same questions.
          “Haven’t had a heat since I met you.”
          Concern flashed across his face, that intensity you were used to seeing in his brow coming to life.
          “You won’t do that again.”
          His command made you feel warm, had your belly already pulling and churning and wanting again.
          “I won’t. Because even though you’re a shitty partner, you’re my mate.”
          That realization swept over him hard and fast, a range of emotions painting his features before he settled on a smile.
          His thumb petted your skin, bringing you in for a kiss.
          “You’re the only award I needed tonight.”
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krissology · 3 years
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Jate’kara Part II
Pairing: Young Mandalorian Din Djarin x Young Mandalorian Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity, fingering, penetration, cum, blood, making it up as they go, tumbling rapidly down the hill of falling in love
A/N: I needed a whole 4k words for this soft and sexy pining that I hope delivers for everyone who’s been waiting! Love you guys.
Read Part I, here.
--
You would follow him anywhere. It’s stupid, so stupid, but you would legitimately follow this man into a sarlaac pit. Into the cold arctic abyss of an icy tundra, into the depths of a spewing, snarling lava tunnel. You would wrap your fingers impossibly tight around his own and leap from the peak of the highest Concordian mountain, sans jet-pack, as long as it was guaranteed you would die in his arms. Stars, this was really happening. It could have been called possession, the way your footsteps fell in line behind his as you toiled through the warping bends of the forest. Following his every move as if he would disappear if you looked away for just a second. You found your eyes trained on the way his body moved under the armor. The kneading of muscle against the tight material cinching his waist, the sway of his shoulders, the thick husk of his thighs every time he took a step. 
It was an unsung song, the way you both knew where this slow hike was leading. Wherever he was taking you, was the abrupt end of years of soft touches and coquettish conversation. It was the end of  ‘who am I without you?’ because that would never be the case again. Din reached back with a gloved hand, asking for your own as if he too, needed to make sure you wouldn’t just disappear if he didn’t keep you close enough. You knew, you both knew, that the end of this trek would be something you could never come back from, undo, re-do, re-live even if you wished it a thousand times. He was going to fuck you. Make love to you, give his body to you, and you to him. Your fist was trembling in his palm and he squeezed it tighter when the path you were on flanked into an opening with the ugly face of an abandoned beskar mine staring at you. You let out a breath you couldn’t tell how long you’d been holding, stopping next to Din before the open mouth of the mine started a decline deep into the roots of the moon’s earth.
 “I would never do anything to you, that you didn’t want me to,” Din said, leaning in to tap the hard shelled forehead of his helmet against your own, “and, everything that you want me to do to you, is yours.”
--
It was the soft crunch of soot underneath your boots that kept you from losing yourself completely in the dim of the mine. That, and Din tethering you to the earth with his vice grip on your wrist, because if not for him you’re sure you would have floated away. The metallic of the walls faded and meshed into harsh gray rock the further you walked ahead. It was only the faint glow of orange light from the setting sun bleeding through the mouth of the cave that kept you exposed. Packing pallets of wooden crates lined the walls, stacked and stranded. No one would ever find you here, not in a million millennia. The vast nothingness that was the landscape on Concordia where these mines were first constructed was just that, nothing. Unusable, un-hideable, unbothered by anyone for years. Not since before the Mandalorian civil wars. He had led you to a place he knew would be secluded. More than secluded, private and sheltered, and entirely yours. Not a place the other foundlings may have come before to have sex, or escaped to when the elders weren’t keeping track of them. A place that he knew would be significant, personal, safe.
Then, it was as if the space was whispering, coaxing, here, this is the place. That or you both came to terms that you couldn’t walk down this ramp forever. You couldn’t run from the feeling forever, the tension forever. Maker, the both of you were fighting an internal battle that started and ended with, I want you. Now, how do we get there?
Your breath hitched when he abruptly lifted you to sit atop a crate. Folding himself into the space between your legs so your helmets were level. Your hands came to rest on top of his pauldrons, connecting your head with his once more and doing absolutely nothing to hide the shallow uneven tempo of your breathing.
“Is this where you kill me?” you whispered, “I already surrendered.”
He ran his palms along the lengths of your thighs, slowly, softly up and down the outer edges of the beskar plates protecting your quads. The simple gesture reminding you so heavily of the ache you harbored when it came to Din. The low pang in your abdomen that never truly went away while you were around him, now ignited and threatening.
 “There’s been plenty of times since I met you that I’ve wanted to kill you,” he whispered in return, “I can’t say that’s what’s on my mind right now.”
“Hm,” you hummed, letting your palms trail down the front of his chest-plate to settle at his beltline. You felt high on the rapid confidence his hands provided as they glided from knee to waist, his fingers curling to draw patterns in the meat of your hips through the thin material of your cargos. Then he stopped all together, instead bringing his hands up to hold your helmet still against his own, and you could have sworn you saw him through the beskar in that moment.
 “Rejorhaa'ir’ni gar ruusaanyc’ni.” Tell me you trust me. He muttered, letting his gloved fingers drop to your shoulders, pressing his thumbs beneath the pauldrons.
“Ganar’ni ruusaanyc o’r gar,” I trust you, you answered, watching as Din shed your armour from your shoulders and moved to the plates across your chest. Your resolve was rapidly declining, and the only thing to keep you grounded was returning this gesture to him, sliding his beskar from his limbs in the same fashion as he did yours, slow at first and then rashly. Like a race of who was going to get to their prize first. Always a competition with him.
 “Rejorhaa'ir’ni gar kar’tayl mav’ni cabuor gar, darasuum,” Tell me you know I’ll always protect you. He discarded your chest plate, your vambraces, your gloves, and held your bare hands to his own beskar ridded chest, and for the first time you felt the warmth of his skin radiating beneath your fingertips, even if it was through the durable cloth of his shirt.
“Ni kar’tayl,” I know, you assured him, sliding his gloves from his palms to join the growing pile of discarded items on the ground matching yours. Knee shields, thigh pieces, your boots kicked off and strewn in completely different directions.
Parts of you have ached for him for years now. Before you even knew what the feeling meant. The wings of a butterfly inside of you when you were only 14 years old, watching him score highest in your class with an ambien rifle. The shameful heat at the back of your neck the first time you pictured him stark nude, wondering if he ever had the same deplorable thoughts about you.
Din teased his fingers at the hem of your tunic, flirting with the skin and making every last tiny hair on your body stand on edge. You expected your own reaction to be the most profound of the two of you but the soft way your stomach felt against his fingertips made Din forget his own name. He had hardly touched you and he was trembling at the prospect of having more. Having more of you in his grip, beneath him, clenched around him. His short shuddery exhale shouldn’t have calmed you, but it did. You were both in a place of inexperience. Both of you so used to knowing everything, being trained in everything. This, this was not that. This was teaching yourselves how to dance without music. You pulled at the hem of his shirt in tandem, as if to tell him he didn’t have to do this himself, he didn’t have to give you everything with nothing in return.
“Rejorhaa'ir’ni copaanir’gar ni as ibic,” Tell me you want me like this, he mumbled, hands ghosting the skin of your sides as your shirt was gently lifted to rest at your rib cage, awaiting an answer.
“Copaanir’ni gar, Din. Darasuum.” I want you, Din. Always.
Just as quickly as you spoke the words your chest became bare. Nothing between the two of you to keep you decent. He had seen you now, seen you exposed and there was no going back from that, this was something that would be burnt into his brain for the rest of his life. The supple swell of your breasts rising and falling erratically above your diaphragm because you couldn’t calm down. Couldn’t control your breathing, couldn’t keep the peppered goose bumps from rising on your skin and telling all your secrets. Your budding nipples hard at attention, pebbled and blushing for him, asking for him.
He couldn’t have dreamed you this beautiful. Not in all the times he had imagined you like this, envisioned it, touched himself over it, were you this ethereal. Din had been hard from the second you entered the mine. Call it inexperience, lust, flagrant male libido, but now it was something beyond that. He was vibrating with hunger and adrenaline and it encompassed him so much so he found his body frozen in place. What do I do? Which way do I move? How could I ever treat her body the way it deserves?
“S-say something, Din,” you quipped, shuddering under his gaze. Maker, why was he so quiet, what was wrong, were you nothing like he imagined? Was he regretting this so fully he couldn’t even move, right now? Just stuck in his boots like a fucking scrag. “If you don’t like what you see just spit it out, Djarin.” You moved to cross your arms over your breasts in embarrassment, maybe even defiance but his balmy hands caught you by the biceps and smoothed them back down to your sides.
“How could you say that,” he mumbled, sliding both palms under your breasts, cupping them tenderly in his grasp. “Don’t like what I see?”
You tilted your helmet down to watch him, kneading you with his fingers, running his thumbs over the peak of your nipples and reveling in the taut pebbled skin. He abandoned one of your breasts to snatch your wrist, guiding it down to harshly press against the thick length of him swollen behind the seam of his pants. “Does this answer your question?”
Oh.
“Yeah, y-yup, it definitely does–answer that.” You were stringing half thought out sentences together to keep yourself grounded but the feel of him in your palm, hard as the beskar he wore and big. Impossibly—big. No seriously how was he that big? What was happening behind this zipper, where did he even keep this thing during it’s down time? Maker, he was going to break you.
“Are we- um are we, gonna have sex?”
He let out a humored breath through his nose, letting his helmet fall to rest against your naked shoulder while you palmed him. It sounded like nothing more than a crackle in the modulator but you knew the sound nonetheless, you’d heard it a thousand times.
Obsessed with the faint warmth of your hand so close to his dick, he asked himself how he would even last for you if just this was sending him spiraling. His shaking finger tips returned to playing softly with your breasts, pinching your nipples between them. “If that’s what you want us to do,” he said.
You reached for his zipper without hesitation, pulling it down and working the button free from its clasp. In the same breath he followed suit, hooking his fingers into the band of your pants and shimmying them down the curve of your hips, lifting your ass from the crates momentarily to slide them out from under you. You shoved his waistband down his hips until it fell mid thigh, his length springing from its confines and bobbing between his legs.
Dank… Farrik.
You didn’t even notice the bruises and scars that marred his thighs, every gash and slash and horrific burn he’d endured. No, nothing else mattered in this moment. You looked up to gauge his reaction only to notice he was staring at you too. At the wet and darkened patch of material still left covering the apex of your thighs. His dick twitched in rapidly heightening curiosity. Your cheeks were burning hot beneath your helmet, and as if to pry the embarrassment and attention off yourself your fight reflexes kicked in and you gripped him fully in your little palm.
His top half lurched forward as a strangled groan escaped his helmet. “Fu-uck, cyar’ika, warn a guy next time,” a bitter laugh escaped him, “I’m barely hanging on here.”
You nodded your head in understanding, trailing your free hand up to push his shirt up his torso. He did you the favor of pulling his collar over his head, ridding himself of the final piece of his clothing so he could focus fully on the feeling of your hands around his cock. “Next time,” you agreed, running a thumb over the tip of him and watching as clear fluid beaded at the top. 
“Careful with me,” he bit, sighing heavily into the confines of his helmet. He was a pressure bomb, at any given moment you could slip and he’d be a goner.
He snaked a warm finger beneath the crotch of your panties, his skin immediately met with the warm stickiness of your core. Slick coated the joints of his hands and fingertips on contact. He brushed his knuckles back and forth over you, watching your body react in desperate coos and subtle hip gestures. The more you moved against his hand, the wetter you became, and the wetter you became the more overt your grinding.
When Din finally pulled your underwear fully down your legs, you pressed your helmet to his, the brashness of being naked for him made you curl into yourself. You must be a mess down there, you thought. You could feel it. The way you were dripping onto his fingers, Maker, he must think you’re so desperate for him, he hasn’t even put it inside of you, yet.
What were the two of you doing, weapons scattered across the floor, clothes thrown to the dirt in haste. What if someone caught you. Exposed and writhing against each other just to feel a little friction. Helmeted fools who needed to get each other off so badly you were willing to put yourselves in danger for it. You should punch him, hard. Punch him for making you want him so badly. For making you so indescribably aroused you didn’t even care if you got caught at this point.
Just as you were in your own little world, Din was in his. Cock aching at the sight of you. Your pussy, just pink and puffy and glistening. Little whisping hairs decorating your mound, juicy plush flesh fluttering for him when he used his thumbs to spread you open. He was lost in you. The only sound resonating in and out of his ear piece was the breathy moans that escaped your lips as he finally pressed a finger inside. If someone attacked he wouldn’t even hear them, he wouldn’t even notice them with you on display like this. Shit, you were warm and soft and so... so tight. Even just around his finger. He was going to have to go so slow with you, so gently when he stretched you open. Would you even want him again, if he hurt you? No, no he wasn’t going to hurt you. He would never hurt you.
“How do we— do it?” You asked, head tilted back as he fingered you, it hurt at first, but now it was celestial. Moon shattering. Concordia would never hold a candle to this. You had one hand rubbing slowly up and down his length where it hung between your legs, the other draped over your own chest, toying with your pert nipples while he played you like a Kloo horn.
“Well, I imagine fucking is quite like fighting,” he murmured, watching his finger disappear in and out of you, then glancing up to take your naked body in, revel in it, beg for it without any words.
“Fight me then,” you sighed, “I think I can take you.”
He stood up to full height, pressing the tip of himself against your heat and pulling you to the edge of the crate to meet him. You braced yourself on both his shoulders, helmets knocking together while you both sparred to look down at your bodies connecting.
“You’d win, you’d be the death of me,” he let out in a breathy shudder, grinding his hips forward slowly to work you open around his tip.
You cried out, fingernails digging into his skin the further he pressed on. “Oh shit, Din.”
He stopped to feel you pulsing around him, to slow himself down while you squeezed him. Grunting and panting into his mask, throwing his own head back the longer his stroke went on. He knew, this was a fleeting moment for him, that he couldn’t hold on much longer, but you needed him to. You needed him to give this to you.
“Talk to me, cyar’ika,” he groaned, “you never stop talking and now— ah, fuck me,” he swore, pushing the full length of himself inside of you in one movement. You reacted with a sweet moan against the side of his helmet that pierced his ear. He stilled, bringing both hands up to cup your helmet and stare into the visor.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, you could feel the twitch of his cock deep inside you as he tried to focus himself.
“No, no not really,” you whispered, shifting your hips against him lightly to feel the friction. “I like it, I like the pain.”
He shook his head back and forth in disbelief, gently rocking himself into your hips again to match your own erratic thrusts, “The death of me,” he repeated.
His hips paced faster then, paired with shallow groans and bated breath, you wrapped your arms tight around his rib cage to hold him close to your body as he worked himself deeper inside of you with every thrust. Euphoric was the only way to describe this for Din. Every hunt he’d ever won came up short now, every fight where he threw the final punch, every gun duel, every last time he came in first. This feeling, the push and pull of your pussy around him, the way you moaned in his ear, shuddered under his touch, the half baked way his name tumbled off your lips every time he pulled out and went back in. He felt a heat at the small of his back, a jolt of electricity up his spine and he knew it was over. He knew that feeling was coming to a head and the breathless bliss was catastrophic.
“You—you win,” he managed, grunting and writhing into you one last time before pulling out completely.
You cried out at the loss of friction, head still  in a tornado spin as you watched him come undone into his own hand before you, cursing and babbling your name in the heat of it.
You rolled your hips against nothing, entranced by the creamy white seed of him standing stark against his tan skin, you wanted to taste it, to feel it, to have it inside of you so badly you whimpered out into the darkness of the mine.
“I’m not done with you, cyar’ika,” he said, “don’t worry,” and then as quickly as he’d pulled out of you, you were full of him again.
All this time, you had been grappling with the feelings you had for Din. Unsure of where the line was being crossed from friends to something more between the two of you. Your hard headed, fiery stubbornness paired impeccably with the soft spoken loyal warrior that was bringing you to cataclysmal highs right now. Puncturing every pleasure center inside you like he was made to do it. Like he fit inside you in the same way your beskar fit over your body. Like a second skin. Your limbs were all but turned to mush, and he held you there, against his body as he fucked into you again, and again and again until you couldn’t decipher light from dark. Until the war in your body was lost and you waved the white flag and the intense tightening in your core snapped like an over stretched bow and shattered. You utterly shattered around him.
“That’s it, kar’ta, you’re so good to me,” he whispered into the side of your helmet, “showing me this side of you.” He held you still while your body shuddered, your nails digging so far into the skin of his back they’d leave half moon scars.
--
What was the proper after-sex etiquette, exactly? You barely got yourselves through the main event and now it was just this slow, unwinding of limbs coupled with lots of awkward grunting and just- pure nakedness. You were both ass fucking naked and deliriously fucked out if you were being honest with each other and it was both the most exhilarating moment of your lives thus far but also the most … disconcerting? Neither of you knew what this meant, you knew how you felt but you didn’t understand the implications. The attachment, the love, that came long with having sex with someone you cared about. The way this connection would change the both of you for the rest of your lives. Din didn’t know, he never could have known.
“I’m gonna..pull out now, okay?” He mused, rubbing circles into the tops of your thighs with his thumbs, tapping his helmet to yours. His concern was striking, and heartfelt, and it made you want him more deeply than you already did, but also reminded you of who you were, a fierce Mandalorian, not a distressed girl.
“This is the easy part, Din,” you let out an exhausted chuckle, “I’m not made of glass.”
“No,” he grunted, taking a short step back to unsheathe himself from inside of you, you hummed along with him at the loss, “you’re made of blades, and blaster residue, and… snark. So much snark.”
You butted his helmet with yours playfully, finally getting a look down at yourself and feeling a blinding embarrassment wash over you.
 Din noticed it too, dropping to his knees before you to get a more un-obscured look. “Cyar’ika why didn’t you tell me I hurt you?” He ran a finger through the seam of you, bloody red digit emerging from your core, to your horror. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, Din,” you started, grabbing his hand and rubbing the red from his fingers with your own palm. “You didn’t hurt me, it - it’s just something that happens. I knew it might happen,  I-I just didn’t know, and I didn’t want to freak you out over the blood, and -”
He stood to meet you, holding your hands in his own. “You thought I was going to freak out over some blood?” He kicked a plate of his own beskar next to his foot to prove a point, “that would be downright treasonous.”
You nodded your head in agreement, laughing with him at the prospect, “This is the way.”
It was as if he got better with every passing day, every single thing Din Djarin did dug the hole another foot deeper. Your relationship with each other sprouted from a seed  and winded like a mercurial vine from such a young age you could probably even say you were rooted in each other. The same soil fed you, the same sunlight touched you, the same heart was born within each of you. You both weathered the same storms, survived the same droughts, bloomed together when the time was right. You were the water source he needed, he was your source of oxygen. There were ways he could get by without you, a passing rain, but you needed him more than you knew what to do with. Without him you couldn’t sustain. He told you that you’d be the death of him, but it was him who’d truly be the death of you.
--
TAGS: @steeeeeeeviebb @zeldasayer @jangofctts @starwars-thirst @shestillwrites1 @mrsparknuts @knivesareout @rainy-day-gracie @3strogen @elfmama @mudhornchronicles @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @fairytalesintheend @storiesofthefandomlovers @heythere-mel @tommy-holland @spicys-stuff
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mamabearcatfanfics · 3 years
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Battle Couple
I've had this little idea for a while, and then decided I could bend it slightly to fit this year's @inukag-week's first battle couple prompt. Because not all battles we face have to be huge ones against a deadly foe. Sometimes the battles can simply be standing up for what's right.
Inuyasha dragged the beanie down tighter over his head, stomping towards the exit of the store. He hated this. This is why he bought things online and had them delivered. Because then he could avoid interactions like he’d just had with that racist arsehole. He glanced down at the text from Sesshoumaru again, wondering if there was some other way he could get this gift for Rin. It was the first time his half-brother had thrown a birthday party for his adopted daughter, and no doubt it would be a big deal.
Rin has expressed an interest in this item. Her birthday party is on Saturday at 10am. Do not be late.
And of course the toy Rin had asked for was sold out everywhere online. The tiny dolls with light up dresses and a matching crystal necklace were apparently ‘the’ toy at the moment. She specifically wanted the purple one, the ‘hope’ doll, because it was her favourite colour, and she already had the other dolls in the set. This was the last one she needed. And he hadn’t been able to find it anywhere. He was failing as an Uncle. The last store he’d been to, he’d practically seen a pair of mothers come to blows arguing over the last CrystalShines doll on the shelf.
He was close to the exit of the store when an intriguing scent wafted past his nose. It was another store employee, dressed in the dark polo shirt and black jeans, with one of those ear walkie talkies they all seemed to wear. She was giggling, talking to someone using the button on her mike, her other arm full of a variety of women’s clothing that she was putting back on the racks. Her arms were a blur as she began sorting them into different sizes, working quickly to make each rack neat and tidy.
He watched as she flitted about the store, talking to a customer, smiling and waving at a baby in a pram, folding jumpers and t-shirts. His eyes were drawn to her dark ponytail; the way it swung as she moved was almost hypnotic. Her glossy hair was black, but had a blue sheen to it under the harsh fluorescent lighting, and he had a sudden urge to reach out and touch it, stroke down the length of the swinging tail to see if it was as soft and silken as it looked.
Without even realising it, he followed her, almost bumping into her as she suddenly spun around to go in a different direction.
“Oh! Good evening sir, can I help you with anything?”
There was a pleasant smile on her face, and she was looking at him expectantly. His voice didn’t seem to want to work now he was actually standing close to her, so he turned around his phone, showing her the picture of the doll.
“This is what you’re looking for?”
“Yeah”, he said softly, his eyes focused on hers as she glanced up at him again. He’d never seen anyone with grey eyes before. It seemed they were lit from within like starlight, and now that he was closer to her, she smelt even better. He cleared his throat, trying to get a hold of himself. “My niece wants one of these for her birthday, and I’m having trouble finding one.”
“Okay”, she said, reaching for the button on her headset to talk to the other employees on the shop floor. “Let me just talk to my colleague in the toy department, and I’ll see if we’ve got that item in stock.”
Kagome watched as the man in front of her visibly deflated.
“Don’worry about it then. Already talked to ‘im.”
And then she got it. Ryan was working the toy department tonight. Ryan the racist bigot who didn’t like interacting with any customers who weren’t white, male, good ol’ boys, exactly like him. Usually he worked out the back in the store room, unpacking shipments, but due to the flu going around and the shortage of staff, the evening shift manager had put him on the floor tonight. And he’d no doubt said something innaproppriate to this gorgeous man in front of her, who obviously had some sort of youkai heritage.
She’d had her own run-ins with Ryan. He’d said many cruel things to her over the past six months, since he’d found out what happened a few years ago, cruel enough to make her run to the safety of the women’s toilets to shed a few silent tears in private. He never bullied her in a place where others could overhear, he always cornered her in dark places where there was no one else around. He frightened her. Jak knew she was uncomfortable around him, and did his best to make sure they were never rostered on at the same time, so it had been a while since she’d had to deal with him.
She took in the golden eyes, fangs and the beanie yanked down hard over his long silver hair, but it was the resigned bitter look on his face that caught at her heart. She knew that feeling. Internally Kagome fumed, but outwardly she hoisted her brightest smile onto her face, wanting to make it up to him. She could fix this!
“Wait. I don’t know the toy department that well, but I’m sure I could help. Just give me a moment to put these things down.”
He followed her to a wheeled rack in the aisle where she hung all the clothing in her arms back up, and then turned to him, smiling brightly again.
“Let’s go to the toy department and see if we can’t find this doll for your niece. When’s her birthday?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh dear, that doesn’t give you much time to find one!”
“I’ve been lookin’ all week. Online stores have sold out.”
“Well, hopefully we’ll have one in stock. Let’s see, the doll aisle is around here somewhere.”
They walked together down the aisle, both scanning the shelves for the tiny dolls.
“They should be around here”, said Kagome, her finger running along the price labelling on the edge of the shelf, her eyes lighting up as she found the right tag, but sighing in disappointment as she found the shelf empty.
“Yeah”, sighed Inuyasha. “I asked the guy around here if he could find out if there were any more out the back or somethin’ and he, ah…”
“Don’t worry”, said Kagome, a determined look on her face, “I will personally go take a look in the store room for you. Just wait here for me sir.”
“Inuyasha.”
“Huh?”
He coughed a little, his head turning to the side to avoid her direct gaze. “My name, it’s Inuyasha.”
“Oh. Right. Just wait here for me Inuyasha, and I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks Kagome.”
She blinked in confusion as he said her name, wondering how he’d known it, then realised he had read her name tag.
For some reason him saying her name out loud made her stomach swoop, like she was on a roller coaster, even though her feet were firmly planted on the ground. As he gave her a shy smile, she felt her cheeks begin to heat, and she whirled around, making a beeline for the storage room, talking into the mike on her headset as she left.
“Hey Jak, it’s Kagome – just going out to the store room for a moment for a customer. I’ll get right back on those returns as soon as I’m done, okay?”
“Oooh, tell me it’s the hottie with the white hair that I pointed out to you!”
“Jak!”
“Oh it is! Take your time honey!”
“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”
“And you love me for it. Make sure you get his name and number before he goes!”
“Jak!”
“For the customer form darlin’, what else did you think I meant?”
She could hear him still sniggering as she released the talk button on her mike, and she shook her head, grinning despite herself. He was her in-line manager and they got on really well, but rarely got to spend time together, as he was usually rostered on during the day, and her in the evenings so her day was free for lectures and study.
Kagome squeezed her way into the storeroom, scanning the aisles of stock yet to be placed out on the shelves. And then she saw it, the edge of a box with a picture of a tiny doll up on the highest shelf.
Dragging over the step ladder, she placed it under the shelf and climbed up, her petite size meaning she had to stand on the very top to have any chance of reaching the box. She just managed to reach the doll with the tips of her fingers, and nudged it. It tipped forward and fell, and with a gasp she managed to catch it with her outstretched hand, teetering on the top of the ladder, her other arm windmilling frantically to keep her balance.
She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her frantically beating heart after her almost fall, the box containing the doll clutched tightly against her. But she’d found one for him, a purple one, just like he’d wanted. She had no idea why that made her feel so incredibly happy, but it did.
Grinning widely as she emerged from the storeroom, she began walking directly to the toy department. She could see Inuyasha there, waiting for her. But she could also see Ryan, his arms crossed as he spoke to him, a sneer on his face. She quickened her pace. Previous experience had taught her that expression couldn’t mean anything good.
Inuyasha stood his ground, hands clenched in tight fists by his sides. He had every right to be here – he was a customer, he hadn’t caused any commotion or damage. Kagome had asked him to wait here. But apparently that wasn’t good enough for this guy.
“I told you already, we’ve got none of what your looking for. Nothing for you. Are you deaf, or just stupid?” The volume of his voice wasn’t loud enough to draw anyone’s attention to them, but definitely loud enough to get on Inuyasha’s nerves.
Inuyasha closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he held back. He would not punch out this idiot – this was a department store, not a battle ground. Even though he deserved it because he was a racist bigoted shit.
“I already told you to leave youkai! Do I have to call security?”
Inuyasha breathed out slowly, trying to keep any trace of anger out of his voice, even though he wanted to let rip. He’d found out the hard way that security tended to not ask questions, just see his youkai traits and assume the worst.
“And I already told you, another employee was taking a look out the back for me. She told me to wait here for her.”
“Yeah, like I’d believe anything one of you would have to say. You’re all the same. What are hidin’ under that hat huh? Some kinda weird freakish thing I’d bet. ”
“Inuyasha!”
Inuyasha turned, his eyes lighting up as Kagome appeared. But she wasn’t wearing the wide smile she had when she left. She was stomping towards them, a box tucked tightly under her arm, the scowl on her face impressive. Thankfully that scowl was not directed at him.
He could smell the nervousness pouring off of her, but you never would have thought it looking at the way she faced off with her work colleague, stepping in front of him like she wanted to shield him from this man's ire with her much smaller body.
“Ryan, I’m handling this customer. And I’ve already found what he needed, so there’s no reason for you to be here. I think you’ve probably said enough.”
There was the barest trace of a tremble in her voice, and Inuyasha moved in closer behind her, wanting her to feel like he was there to support her. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he didn’t like it.
Ryan rolled his eyes and then sneered at her, his voice low and vicious.
“Ha. Shoulda known it would be you Kagome. Such a helpful little kiss ass. Why don’t you turn that cute little tush of yours around and head back to the ladies department where you belong, unless you’re still that desperate for some demon tail.”
“What?”
Ryan grinned at the shocked expression on Kagome’s face, posturing like he’d somehow scored a point. “Bit ironic really, you working in the ladies department when you’re anything but. A human ain't good enough for Kagome, huh? Wasn’t it bad enough that the last guy you had got fired, now you’re after customers too? You really are a-“
“Don’t. Say. Another. Word.”
Both Kagome and Ryan flinched at the snarled words behind them.
“Kagome, call your manager”, said Inuyasha gruffly. “I wanna report this guy.”
“It’s my word against yours demon, and little Kagome’s not gonna say anything, are you Kagome, because you’re fuckin’ pathetic. There’s nothin’ you can report me for”, snorted Ryan.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’d probably pick being a racist arsehole, for starters”, said another voice cheerfully. "Then maybe we could add workplace harassment."
A tall man in a tailored suit stepped into view, his dark hair slicked back into a short ponytail. He was holding his phone up, obviously still recording the whole thing.
“Here I was, minding my own business in the Lego aisle while I looked for the perfect birthday gift for my little girls, and what should I hear? An employee bad mouthing a customer, when the customer had been nothing but polite and civil. Don’t worry about proof, I’m happy to be a witness. I was recording the whole thing. From the very first racist slur that left your lips.”
Kagome’s eyes were wide as she glanced from the ponytailed man back to Ryan, and Inuyasha could hear her heart beating frantically. He nodded at her approvingly as she took a deep breath, her hand steady on the button on her headset.
“Jak, it’s Kagome”, she said, her voice a little breathless, but firm. “Can you-“
Ryan lunged towards her.
“Don’t you dare, you fuckin’ bitch!”
Inuyasha ducked out from behind Kagome, his fist grabbing the back of Ryan’s shirt and lifting him into the air, Ryan’s legs kicking frantically as he tried to escape. Before Kagome could move out of the way, his steel capped boot caught her on the chin. She dropped like a stone, crumpling to the floor in a heap.
“Fuck, Kagome!”
Inuyasha swung Ryan out of the way and dropped him none too gently, all his focus on the small woman laying prone on the slightly grubby linoleum floor, still out for the count. He could hear a scuffle behind him as the man in the suit and a few other observers struggled to keep Ryan contained, but he no longer cared about him. He knelt down close to her, gently stroking the glossy dark hair back from her face.
“Kagome, can you hear me?”
Inuyasha shook Kagome’s shoulder gently, trying to rouse her, and her eyes fluttered open.
“Inuyasha?” she said groggily, her arm tightening around the box, a wobbly smile on her face. “I got your doll.”
It took a while to sort everything out. An ambulance was called, and the police. The police took statements from Inuyasha, Kagome and the man in the suit, Miroku. Ryan was fired on the spot, and Jak was positively gleeful, despite the mountain of paperwork he’d have to fill out before he went home that evening. When the paramedic suggested that Kagome should go to the hospital to be checked for possible concussion, Inuyasha had immediately said he’d like to go with her, if that was alright with Kagome, and after a few polite remarks about it not being necessary, she’d gratefully accepted. Jak had positively pushed them into the ambulance together, waving them off with a bright smile. It was the most exciting evening shift he’d had in years.
“You don’t have to stay you know. I’ll be fine, I’ll just get an Uber home.”
Inuyasha rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall, his arm resting on the edge of Kagome's hospital bed.
“For the tenth time woman, I don’t mind. I want to be here when the doctor examines you to make sure you’re okay. And then I wanna make sure you get home safe.” He sighed as he looked at the dark purpling bruise on Kagome’s chin. “I’m just sorry I didn’t throw that fucker down to the end of the aisle when I had the chance.”
“But it’s so late! It’s almost 2am, and you have the party to go to tomorrow. Today I mean.”
“Eh, that’s hours away. She won’t mind if I’m a little late, Rin’s a nice kid. And now I have the perfect present, thanks to you.”
Kagome was quiet for a while. The silence grew to feel uncomfortable, because Inuyasha could sense how tense Kagome suddenly was.
“Inuyasha… I want to explain. About what Ryan said to me.”
“Hmm?” He could smell nervousness again, billowing around her like a cloud, and he didn’t like it. “Doesn’t matter, none of my business.”
“But I want to”, she said, her voice taking on a stubborn edge.
“Fine, I’ll listen. But nothin’ you can say will change my good opinion of you. You stepped up for me back there Kagome, and that don’t happen for me much. I will always remember that.”
Kagome reached out her hand to lightly grasp the clawed one sitting next to her on the bed, and squeezed it.
“Thank you.”
He squeezed back.
“You’re welcome.”
“Anyway”, she sighed. “About what Ryan said. I started working at that department store when I was still in high school, as a weekend job. And there was this training manager, a kitsune. He’d come around every so often, and all the girls thought he was really good looking. He had a little green sports car; a lot of the other girls thought was really important. They all were flirting with him, and then he asked me out. I was so surprised. I mean, me! I’m nothing special! He was so stylish, and so charming. I really thought…” Kagome laughed but it had no humour in it, and Inuyasha squeezed her hand again. She shrugged, her shoulders coming up around her ears as her face turned away from him.
“I was so stupid! It turned out I was right about being nothing special, because he was going out with a couple of girls at every store that he visited.” She flinched a little at Inuyasha’s low growl of disapproval. “There were around ten of us. And because a couple of us were under aged, he was charged. Lost his job. Ryan found out about it a few months ago and thought-“
“Don’t say it”, said Inuyasha gruffly, squeezing her hand again. “Don’t matter what he thought. It’s in the past. And the Kagome I saw tonight was amazing.”
“No I wasn’t!” Kagome shook her head, then winced as her head throbbed, realising that was a bad idea. “I was so scared Inuyasha! I’ve never been able to stand up to him before. But I couldn’t stand the thought of him being mean to you!”
“Then you’re even braver than I thought.” Inuyasha entwined his fingers with hers, and cleared his throat. “Kagome, I know you don’t know me. But I think I’d like to get to know you. Could I call you? Maybe we could go out for coffee or somethin’? I mean you don’t gotta answer, and if you don’t wanna, I totally understand, I mean-“
“Yes.” Kagome giggled at the wide toothy grin on Inuyasha’s face. “Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in.”
“Wait. Maybe you should see what all’a me looks like before you say yes.”
Inuyasha tugged off his beanie, revealing the pointed white dog ears on top of his head. “If you wanna change your mind, I-“
“They’re so cute!” squeaked Kagome. “Please give me your phone!”
Kagome woke up the next morning very late, so late that it was no longer morning at all.
It had been 3am by the time Inuyasha had dropped her home with a bag of painkillers and the Doctor’s instructions for treating her mild concussion. He’d helped her into bed, placed her medicine and a glass of water next to the bed for her, kissed her softly on the cheek and whispered goodnight, closing the door behind him.
She rubbed her cheek gently at the memory of that small kiss, a smile on her face. She still had a headache, so she took two of the tablets, then reached for her phone on the bedside table where it had been charging.
There were two messages.
The birthday girl loves her present! Attached was a picture of a smiling Inuyasha kneeling with his arm around a little girl in a checked orange party dress and sparkly sandals, her dark hair up in pig tails. A wide excited grin split her face, revealing the gap of a missing front tooth. The doll was clutched tightly in her hand, and she was wearing the necklace that came with it.
I told Rin how brave you were, and she wanted you to have some birthday cake. Can I bring some over when you wake up? 🍰
Kagome smiled almost as wide as Rin, despite her headache.
I’d love you to ❤
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r1ntaros · 3 years
Text
Falling Flower
Second Admission of KQ Academy Class '20-'21
see first admission here
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Why has laughter turned to tears?
Pairing: Choi Jongho x fem!reader
Genre: angst with a pinch of fluff
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: open ending
Note: highly recommending to listen to iKon's why why why while reading. italicized texts are flashbacks.
Jongho’s life is not always sunshines and rainbows. It’s full of loneliness, sadness and anger to the point that he learned how to take it out to other people. He had always been the type to give one person a dead look, as if warning them to run, before physically inflicting them with short term pain. 
However, it’s not a perfect coping mechanism for the long term pain that he’s experiencing. Not a perfect coping mechanism to overshadow his pain of losing the only person he loved and who loved him. 
He always blames himself for what has happened, how he didn’t give a shit or how he didn’t even give her what she wants.
Her.
She’s beautiful. His sunshine, his rainbow. The most beautiful flower blooming in the field of grass.
Jongho met her in his first year of highschool. Knowing the academy by his heart as he’d always studied there practically his whole life, he saw her getting lost in the school’s corridor, only to find out that they’re classmates. After that, Jongho immediately stayed away from her as he already knew that she could be the reason for his own destruction. 
 But she’s persistent, claiming that she wants to be his friend but he doesn’t. He rejected her attempts multiple times but even so, she’s always been enthusiastic up to the point where he declared to everyone that he’s hers and she’s his and that no one is allowed to claim him as their best friend.
He was claimed.. And usually he didn’t mind but this? It’s nothing he can’t destroy, especially when she said it with pure innocence and happiness. 
He was claimed.. And usually he didn’t mind but this? It’s nothing he can’t destroy, especially when she said it with pure innocence and happiness. 
He was claimed.. And usually he didn’t mind but this? It’s nothing he can’t destroy, especially when she said it with pure innocence and happiness. 
His seven other friends immediately found out about that news spreading in their campus like wildfire. He remembered having a conversation with Seonghwa that time, a conversation that will be forever etched in his mind.
Seonghwa had a huge smirk plastered in his face and Jongho didn’t fail to notice it by the time he entered their hangout place. He kept quiet as he sat down beside Yeosang with a huge teasing smile plastered on his face.
Jongho didn’t pay them any attention since he knew that his friends were already aware of what went on.
Wooyoung, however, is not content with just knowing the current gossip about Jongho (and a certain cute girl but he’s not going to say that) circulating the academy. He needs the details.
He stood in front of Jongho, bouncing in his feet, as he leaned forward and spoke (more like shouted), “So Lee y/n!”
Jongho narrowed his eyes at him, still choosing not to speak, but Wooyoung took it as a sign to keep on going, “I didn’t know our little baby brother has another friend other than us.” He said with an exaggerated pout making the younger shove his face away from him.
The others in the room started laughing but then Seonghwa spoke, “You know you really don’t have to be shy about telling us anything related to her.”
The younger is hot seat lets out an exasperated sigh, “Look, hyung–”
“It’s okay, Jongho. As long as you tell us that the both of you are dating then we’ll forget how you neglected us about this little information that’s been circulating around the academy.” Seonghwa said with a teasing smile making the others agree as Jongho groaned in annoyance.
“I’m not going to date her, hyung.”
Mingi lets out a snort and pats his back, “Don’t say something you can’t control, Jjongie.”
He should’ve listened to Mingi.
Jongho found himself getting stuck in the same loop, spending time with his hyungs then spending time with y/n has become his routine. 
He didn’t like the thought of it at first but as time went on, he found it a little interesting, then fascinating until he learned how to enjoy it fully.
Y/n became his best friend too. Exclusively for Jongho, and him exclusively hers.
Spending time with her makes him notice every little detail about her. How she hates tying her hair up in a boring ponytail, making Jongho always do her hair in the morning. She also likes caramel macchiatos and consumes it in an unhealthy amount whenever she can, that’s why Jongho reduced her caffeine intake in a day.
She’s patient, an actual angel. She’s the only person whom Jongho goes to whenever he gets involved in a fight and needs his wound to get tended. And he loves it every time he gets to feel her soft, gentle and loving touch.
Despite all that, Jongho tried to strictly keep the “just friends” status quo but as he didn’t expect, he should’ve listened to Mingi. 
It happened on a hot weekend of September night when she and Jongho decided to roam around the city, riding different kinds of public transportation, feeling free because they don’t have the burden of letting their drivers accompany them to places without questioning their activities.
Jongho treated her ice cream after eating in the most famous five star Michelin restaurant around the area. Holding her hands tightly in his just because she roams around mindlessly and Jongho loses her.
He doesn’t want to carry the burden of explaining to her parents on how she slipped away from him.
After getting their ice creams, they both went to the highest peak of the city where the lights and busy streets are visible. She looked in awe as Jongho just stared at her, his heart beating faster than it usually should.
And that’s when he realized, she’s beautiful.
She’s beautiful and Jongho likes her a lot.
He couldn’t help the small smile that formed in his lips and suddenly, his thoughts were out in the clear, “Y/n, I like you.”
The said girl stopped her adventurous endeavors and turned around to look at him, her initial shock turned into the sweetest smile Jongho has ever seen, “You do?” She asked giddily.
Jongho nodded shyly as a confirmation, putting a hand on his nape. 
Silence engulfed the two of them, no one spoke until it was broken by the sounds of dry leaves crunching under someone’s feet. 
Y/n, now standing in front of him with the same sweet smile she has, looked at him with fond eyes and the next words she spoke was something he wasn’t expecting, “I’m counting today as our first date, okay?”
Dating her was as easy as befriending her but what made it hard is how they’ll tell their respective group of friends without letting it spread around the academy. It was y/n’s wishes to keep everything just between them and their friends. Jongho respects that decision of hers as he, at the same time, wants at least this part of his life to be private since he feels like everyone at school knows a lot of his whereabouts.
When he told his older brothers about it, they were absolutely happy for him. Jongho barely dates anyone as he’s a picky man with taste. That's why they were also quite shocked with the news but already expected it at the same time.
Y/n, on the other hand, told her friends as well but they were as welcoming as his friends.. except for one. She complained about it to him but all he can say is that they’ll come into terms with it.
And just like that, their relationship started to sail smoothly for a few months.
As quick as their relationship has started, the two of them weren’t expecting that it would hit rock bottom just with the same amount of swiftness.
A lot of self-doubt became present in their relationship, mostly coming from Y/n and Jongho will coax her and remove her unwanted thoughts in her mind whenever it happens until he grows tired.
Big mistake, Jongho grew tired.
He started neglecting their relationship. Barely answering her texts and calls, usually hanging out with the other boys as he puts himself on do not disturb mode. Fist fighting people who come in his and his friend’s way and lastly, ignoring Y/n’s presence like she’s a plague.
She had been confused why. Is it her? Does he want to end it? A lot of negative thoughts are coming into her but as he said it himself, think positive. She always stroll around the hallways during her free time, hoping that she’ll see her boyfriend at least. He stopped taking her out on dates too.. maybe he just got busy.
When she’s strolling around the hallways, she coincidentally bumped into San who enthusiastically greeted her. She smiled at him and asked, “Have you seen Jongho?”
The guy looked confused and answered, “I haven’t. He left our hangout place earlier because he said he’ll meet you today.”
You frowned at his response and San immediately noticed that something’s wrong. Cursing under his breath, he asked, “Do you want to look for him? I’ll help you.”
The bright eyes she looked at him with only made him laugh as they roamed around the hallways. To no avail, they didn’t find him anywhere so they stopped their little adventure and saf down on one of the school garden’s huts. They were talking about random things when they heard someone laugh somewhere but unable to detect where it was.
Thinking that they’re both disturbing something, they decided to crawl away silently but a name mentioned made them stop, “You’re still so funny, Jongho.” A female voice said, “Sad that you’re no longer single but I’m glad that you never changed.”
San silently made his way closer and peeked through the plants. By the time he got a clearer view of who it was he cursed once again, “Fucking hell, Choi Jongho. Seriously?”
Growing concerned, y/n touched his forearm and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Y/n, he’s with his ex. I’m so sorry–”
A loud crash made the two of them look in a certain direction, only to see her friend who strongly disagrees with her and Jongho’s relationship. She stared at them wide-eyed before she shouted, “Jia, y/n’s here and she’s with Choi San!”
San just raised an eyebrow and muttered, “What the fuck was that for?”
He got his answer when Jongho and the female named Jia came out from their “hiding spot.” The younger male was fuming with anger when he saw her hand on his friend’s forearm.
Dashing through them, he ripped her hands away from San, earning a yelp of pain from her.
Without any care, he started to drag her away from them into a much more secluded place as he ignores her complaints. When he’s satisfied that they're hidden enough, he harshly makes her face him, his anger suddenly morphing into softness when he sees the tears running down her face.
“Baby–”
“Where were you?” She sniffed as she massaged the part Jongho had tightly held onto her.
“I was about to go to you–”
“But you never did.” She cut him off, still not looking at him, “You never did, Jongho. You even told your friends you will but look where me and San found you. With your ex, really? You know how insecure I am about this relationship and you just made it a million times worse.”
Jongho never tried to say something as she’s right. It’s his fault that he agreed to hang out with Jia and much more worse, she’s his ex.
“You’ve been neglecting me for the past weeks, Jongho. The last time we decently saw each other was last month for our monthsary.” She wiped the tear that slowly trickled down her eyes and looked at him.
Her eyes was full of sadness and pain and Jongho tried to touch her, “Baby–”
“Don’t.” She said, shaking her head. “Don’t you fucking dare call me baby, Choi Jongho.” She said sternly and she removed the bracelet that Jongho gave her on their first month of being together.
His blood ran cold when she harshly grabbed his hand and forced the bracelet into his palm, “Our honeymoon phase in this relationship is over that’s why you’ve been acting like that.”
She laughed suddenly, the sound full of disbelief and she uttered the words that made both of their hearts break, “Then I guess we’re over too. I don’t know what will happen if this continues on but I can bear the fact that you’re treating me like this.”
Jongho watched her figure run away from him, not being able to do anything.
He suddenly felt wetness in his face and he knows he’s crying.
Crying over the fact that he lost a lover and a friend.
It had been exactly two years when it happened and Jongho can still feel the pain of her leaving.
He never realized her impact in his life until she was gone. She changed him into a better version of herself and now that she’s out of his life, he’s lost.
Right after that break up, they never talked. The both of them avoided each other like a plague and rumors spread that Y/n has reduced her circle of friends. It hasn’t been long as well when it was rumored that she’ll leave the country right after the school year ends but he wasn’t so sure of it not until he got a confirmation from Yunho who’s the principal’s son.
He wanted to get some closure before she leaves and with the help of his friends, he was able to talk to her but already at a crucial time.
It was their finals when they were able to do so. It was tearful, as expected and even if they never actually have a decent talk, she promised him that they’ll fix it once she comes back to the country.
And now, two years later, here he is. Still waiting for her.
He was never able to find any other else to love. She’s so irreplaceable that Jongho found himself waiting for her arrival, just in case their promised talk will end up on a positive mark.
His friends tried to make him do other things, but he just couldn’t.
That’s why here they are in their hangout place, waiting for the indication that their first day of classes will soon start as they mind their own business while Jongho just stares at the bracelet in his hands.
He lets out a sigh and suddenly, the door abruptly opens, making him crane his neck to look at the door where Mingi stands, breathing heavily as he catches his breath.
Suddenly, Mingi pointed at him and uttered the words he’s been waiting for, “Y/n’s home!”
Finally.
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taglist: @masterninjacow @little-precious-baby @treasure-hwa @yunhobabygurl @raysanshine
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jasontoddiefor · 3 years
Text
Title: soon you’ll aim up at the sky and I’ll watch you float away Summary: Anakin was by no means falling in any of his classes. No, the issue was that Anakin wasn’t as good as he wanted to be and Obi-Wan did not have the time to read up on Check’chualik’s theory of ‘four-dimensional mathematics within a suspended room of an aircraft’. Or, Obi-Wan doesn't do space math but his Padawan does. AN: New part of my light fix-it AU! Written for @thenegoteator.
There were no words to describe how proud Obi-Wan was of Anakin. His apprentice was growing in leaps and bounds, going from being at the bottom of his classes to rising to the very top within just a few months. His determination and ambition were Anakin’s greatest assets. He trained harder than anyone else Obi-Wan knew – besides himself, maybe, but Obi-Wan was also still in the process of switching fighting styles, so he felt like he deserved to be pushing himself to the edge.
Obi-Wan just also, kind of, hated the fact that Anakin’s final exams aligned so well with his own.
He didn’t mind it too much concerning Anakin’s language classes. Those were easy enough to handle. Anakin resented the various High Standard dialects of any given language and had chosen to study the many trader languages spread across the galaxy. His Ryl was better than Obi-Wan’s own, but he took that good-naturedly and let Anakin run circles around him, reciting Ryl chants. It was Anakin’s third language or so – Obi-Wan didn’t know in what order Anakin had learned which language, but Anakin didn’t seem to be too sure about it either.
He had just said that he used to speak it nearly daily on Tatooine and that had settled it. If Anakin didn’t change his language track, he would probably not end up doing many of the diplomacy missions Obi-Wan usually elected to take, but he didn’t mind that either. Anakin was more well suited for the open skies than pompous dining halls.
Anakin’s literature classes were a bit more of a disaster. He was not particularly fond of interpreting texts. Obi-Wan always enjoyed those lessons most, thinking that engaging in such an exchange with authors of the past was the highest form of evaluating the thoughts of an inaccessible period. Anakin preferred biting conversations with his Master or his friends, the kind of quick wit needed for verbal sparring. While some of Anakin’s replies were not the smoothest yet, the words being more appropriate in Huttese as the boy claimed, he was doing well. He was on his way to becoming a suitable companion for tedious negotiations that made somebody to trade snarky comments in the privacy of their rooms with a necessity.
Galactic history was also about as alright as it could be. Anakin was more interested in the Order’s history than that of the Republic, but those usually went hand in hand, so Anakin could get invested enough in a given topic.
Anakin was by no means falling in any of his classes.
No, the issue was that Anakin wasn’t as good as he wanted to be and Obi-Wan did not have the time to read up on Check’chualik’s theory of ‘four-dimensional mathematics within a suspended room of an aircraft’.
Anakin had said that sentence and a bunch of other very important sounding words while biting his lips in frustration, looking like he was going to start crying in anger any second. Anakin hardly cried, his eyes not even hazing over. Obi-Wan had seen him shed tears maybe once or twice since Anakin had become his apprentice. Anakin called tears a waste and while that was certainly not a mentality Obi-Wan wanted Anakin to keep, he hadn’t quite had the chance yet to address that topic in a meaningful way.
So, instead, he was looking at Anakin’s math paper, sighing.
It really wasn’t like Obi-Wan was going to get any of this. He knew he wouldn’t because he had never taken the elective Theoretical Mathematics of Hyperspace Travel. Obi-Wan took all the courses necessary to get his piloting license and not invested any extra hours into it, especially not within his mathematics track.
Obi-Wan also knew that these kinds of electives were more for senior Padawans and not a pre-teen, but Anakin was also intensely more familiar with ships and droids than most Padawans. Obi-Wan had already given up on attempting to make any sense of Anakin’s level of knowledge when it was all over the place.
Rubbing his eyes, Obi-Wan reached for his tea, enjoying the sweet taste of it. One glance at the chrono told him that Anakin would be back from classes soon. Obi-Wan had meant to read over his paper as a distraction from his own, but, evidently, that hadn’t turned out.
Neither Anakin’s theoretical maths paper nor Obi-Wan’s thesis on the inhumane implications of the Yavin code in light of the end of the New Sith Wars was going to get written or corrected this afternoon.
Obi-Wan felt just a little like dropping his head on the table and taking the day off. Though, perhaps, that really wasn’t such a bad idea. A break from this would maybe clear his head and Anakin…
Anakin would not be happy. He would work himself up because of his frustrations and then Obi-Wan would have to deal with a Padawan too stressed to calm down, which, depending on how his day had gone, would not end so well.
Obi-Wan deliberated whether he should just decide for the both of them that they’d take the day off, but eventually decided against it. Anakin reacted better to all situations if he was given a choice. Knowing that Anakin would be home in ten minutes, Obi-Wan cleared up their living room table and got lunch out of the oven. He had felt like baking today – okay, no, that was a bold-faced lie. He just needed another distraction from his paper and cooking had seemed like a good enough choice – and not like eating in the mess hall.
By the time he had laid the table, the door to their rooms opened and Anakin rushed inside, still full of energy after a morning filled with lessons.
“Obi-Waaaaan, I’m hungry. This smells nice, what’s for lunch?”
Anakin threw his arms around Obi-Wan’s middle, becoming liquid and relying on Obi-Wan to hold him up from beneath his arms.
“I made lasagna,” Obi-Wan said and carried Anakin over to his chair. “Yes, with that cheese you like.”
Anakin’s face lit up and he fist-bumped the air. “Yes!”
Dinner was a loud affair, something Obi-Wan had yet to get used to. Eating with Qui-Gon was always silent while the snack pauses were used for heated debates. Anakin worked exactly the other way round. He wasn’t one for eating quietly or slowly. He told Obi-Wan about his classes, what they had gotten up to, and, of course, the topic of his paper came up.
“Have you finished looking through it?” Anakin asked with big eyes.
Here it was, the moment of truth.
“No,” Obi-Wan replied honestly. “I tried to, but the topic of your paper is nothing I’m really informed on. I checked your grammar but not your calculations.”
“Oh.” Anakin’s face immediately fell. “But I need this paper to be right and I can’t quite figure it out and I don’t want to fail!”
Anakin’s outbursts, when expected, were a lot easier to handle.
“I know,” Obi-Wan said, “which is why I thought of two things. One.” He held up his index finger. “The two of us need a break from these papers. I know yours is due soon, but you are smart and one day of not working on it will do you good, so I’d suggest taking the day off. Two, I’m pretty sure there’s a Jedi Master, who can look over this and help you out, coming home tomorrow.”
“Oh?” Anakin blinked. “Who?”
“Master Plo Koon. He’s an excellent pilot and I think you would have a lot of fun talking to him. He’s a Kel Dor.”
“Oh, I know him!” Anakin interrupted, looking a little star-struck.
Obi-Wan hadn’t expected that reaction. “You do?”
“Yeah! He’s in the crèche lots because he brought a Youngling there around the same time I arrived at the temple. Her name’s Ahsoka. She’s gonna be badass someday.”
Anakin enjoyed spending time in the crèche and going by the way he talked, Obi-Wan assumed that little Ahsoka was one of the more talkative kids there with no hesitation about challenging Anakin to a fight. Obi-Wan smiled. “And you know that how?”
“She bit me once,” Anakin replied and nodded as if that explained everything.
He then swallowed the last piece of his meal, not elaborating any further.
This was… nice. Obi-wan had honestly expected this conversation to be more chaotic. Perhaps that said more about his own mental state than it said anything about Anakin’s.
“And what are we gonna do today then?” Anakin asked. “If we’re not working on papers.”
“Hmm.” Obi-Wan made a show out of pondering when he had already decided to let Anakin pick a while ago. “Well, where do you want to go?”
There was only one possible reply to that answer.
“Can we go to the markets again?” Anakin said immediately. “We’re running out of sunbeetles and we can visit Dak’lana and maybe get you a new hairpin too?”
Obi-Wan had to smile at Anakin’s genuine excitement. Few things were as comforting as seeing your Padawan happy.
Except, maybe, finishing your thesis.
“That is a wonderful idea,” Obi-Wan told him and watched happily as Anakin ran off to get everything ready for their trip.
Time to wash up and spend money on food and jewelry.
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yeochikin · 4 years
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cupcake. | c. san
a/n: thank you so much anon for requesting! contrary to the mingi e2l fic, this one is a tad shorter and maybe less angst??? also i’m sorry if it didn’t exceed your expectations anon though i hope you enjoyed reading this! do ignore mistakes as this has not been proofread! ✨💖
“you can't just fucking copy and paste the whole wikipedia page!” you hissed over at the male who seemed unfazed by your protests after taking a look at his part of the assignment you were partnered up with, picking at his nails boredly.
of all people in the class, your lecturer just had to pair you up with choi san.
choi fucking san.
what comes to mind whenever his name is mentioned? if anyone had heard the question, the answers would be similar.
he's the athlete, the top player in the field, the football team’s hope and pride. he is choi san who has the whole college smitten over him as soon as he entered the fields, and scream out his name whenever he grabbed the ball and made a run for it to the opponent's goal, ignoring the opposing team’s defense and strikers coming up to tackle him down to steal the ball. 
not only that, he excelled in his studies, managing to be at the top of your class after every test your class would hold. a lot of people in your college wished that they had the ability to be able to balance their studies and sports at the same time. you would be lying if you denied that you didn’t wish to know his secret in time management as well because, let’s be honest, sometimes you would procrastinate your assignments and had to rush through finishing them once the deadline was near.
to anyone else in the college, choi san is everyone else's dream guy. with a single piercing gaze or a smirk being sent in their way, they are bound to stutter all over the place or would even return the smirk with a wink or flirty advances, only to have him shut them down just as soon as they tried. it was safe to say that everyone wanted to be or be with, choi san.
only if he would get his head out of his ass. 
you can't help but to roll your eyes at his lack of response after you ranted at how he just slapped on wikipedia's history of how theatres started in the first place before you groaned and slammed your head on the table, not even wincing from the loud thump against the wooden furniture. You wondered if he genuinely had no idea of how to do this assignment or he was just being petty.
you would bet a whole pizza it was the latter without a heartbeat.
“why did i ever get partnered up with you?”
“the same question is in my mind, cupcake.” san spoke nonchalantly, now resting his cheek against his knuckles as he stared at the mess of hair on the table in front of him.
“call me cupcake one more time and i'll stab you with a plastic spoon.”
“sure, cupcake. very scary of you.” you merely glared at san, who was looking at you with a glint of mischief swirling in his dark irises while the corners of his lips threatened to curl in the annoyed gaze you sent him.
you don't know how you and san started to hate each other. you barely ever interacted with him at all. though you might have an idea why. you had received the highest mark in your  test one time, much to your joy. you would have to admit, it was satisfying to feel the smugness in san be replaced with shock once he had heard about it. while your classmates congratulated you as the class had come to an end, san glared holes in the back of your head, labelling you as his rival instantly.
now, whenever you crossed his path, be it in the hallways or just literally everywhere on the campus grounds, he would send you a dirty look or two. at first, you felt conscious from the way he stared at you, thinking if there was something in your face or hair, or maybe your clothes? your best friend, yunho, would reassure you that there was nothing wrong with you and to not mind him as such. 
easier said than done. especially when the two of you have the same class together. your annoyance grew from the way san would sit behind you and purposely kick your seat, feigning innocence when you asked what was his problem. not only that, he would also lay pranks on you, like the old whoopie cushion thing so the whole class would look at you. or how he would even throw paper balls aimed at your head while class was in session. he would even purposely put his leg out while you weren't looking to make you trip in your steps, laughing with his friends afterwards and calling you ‘miss klutz’. you were lucky that yunho was there to catch you by the arm or you would've landed on your face.
it is when you finally snapped that you literally dragged him back into class as the other students had filed out, leaving the both of you alone. 
“what the hell is your problem with me?” you asked, trying to remain unaffected at the way his hard eyes stared down at you. 
san feigned confusion. he might be the college’s football star, but he sure as hell sucked at acting. 
“i don't know what you're talking about.” he answered plainly. 
“oh? then what about the kicking on my seat? the pranks you laid? what are you, 5?” you ranted, eyebrows all furrowed, the apples of your cheeks were tinted with a faint shade of pink from the rising temperature of your body due to the anger slowly pouring out of you. clearly you didn’t want to waste your time in college dealing with such childish acts.
but the boy merely stared at your face for a few seconds once you were done, only then suddenly laughing and rubbed a hand across his face.
“something about you just irritates me to the core.” he said, causing you to feel the slight sting of his venom laced tone in your chest, swallowing thickly as you could feel the anger in you rising.
with a shove of his hands into his pockets, san smirked down at you and leaned his face close to yours with you backing away slightly from the sudden close proximity between the two of you. 
“y/n l/n, you irritate me.” 
those were his last words before he walked off, deliberately bumping his shoulder against yours, leaving you in the now empty classroom with fists tightly clenched to your sides and jaw clenched.
‘the feeling is mutual, choi san.’ was the last thing in your head before you blinked the angry tears away, gathering your things and quickly headed out to your next class.
and after that incident, it was no surprise that everyone felt the tension between the two of you. especially when the two of you decided to beat each other in who would do better in class, one of you would send smug smiles whenever the other had received a lower score than the other. And when your college had its annual football games every year, you would instead scream another player’s name while the others would cheer san’s name.
sometimes, one of your classes would even have an impromptu debate. that only fueled the fire between the two of you. instead of facts and refutes being argued, it would always end up with the two of you sending bickers back and forth, up to the point of being kicked out of class by your lecturer.
one of your poor lecturers must’ve had enough of the both of you not resolving whatever grudge the two of you are holding against one another that when he announced the two of you were paired up, both san and you felt like the world suddenly stopped spinning. with wide eyes, you turned to look at the boy, who was no doubt already glaring at you with his tongue poking his inner cheek.
“well, fuck you too, san.” you hissed underneath your breath, yelping as yunho nudged your side with his elbow, pouting at the way he shook his head.
“if you get kicked out one more time, i'm not gonna lend you my notes.” he said, turning his head to pay attention to the lecturer afterwards.
“jung yunho!” 
so, here you are. stuck with choi san until the two of you are finished with the assignment. 
the first few days of having to work on this project was only filled with the two of you sending insults to one another back and forth instead of actually working on the assignment. by the fourth day, however, you had expected san to comment on your hair or even your clothes once you arrived in the library. as much as you wanted to retaliate, you instead had to sit him down just to say that the days spent arguing with each other could be used to work on your assignment, and the two of you didn’t have that much time as it was due in five more days. though reluctant, the male released a low sigh and agreed to finally get things started. 
but of course, his pettiness didn’t stop there. Hence, the reason why you are ranting to him.
“san, i’m serious, we really need to get this started.” you pinched the bridge of your nose. 
“and did i not have a head start on this assignment?” said male retaliated, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 
“you are unbelievable.” 
“why thank you, cupcake.”
“fuck off.” you groaned and slumped against your seat. 
‘this is going anywhere at all.’ you thought, a hand coming up to card your digits through your hair before you heard the clicking of keys of a keyboard from a certain raven haired male in front of you. 
you had to lift your head to see what he was up to now. to your surprise, san was rapidly typing up something into his laptop, eyes all focused and teeth sometimes chewing on the soft muscle of his lower lip. 
“stop gawking at me, cupcake.” he said suddenly, now casting his gaze away from the laptop’s monitor to your face, effectively making you look away, and pretended to focus on your laptop, busying yourself by focusing on your part of the assignment. much to his amusement.
taking the brief opportunity, san had his eyes on you. Something about you was intriguing to him. he had always seen you as a rival in the classes you shared, wanting to beat you in any scores. he won’t even forget the amount of times he would see you in one of his games, though you weren’t looking at him with the same excitement in your eyes as the other spectators. you were.. Intriguing. 
so much, that it bothered him day and night. wondering how your reactions were always so interesting every time he pulled on your leg. he can’t get your damn face out of his head to the point he just grew irritated at it. thus, taking it out on you by doing petty things. 
“stop gawking at me, san.” your voice reached his ears and managed to make him snap back into reality, rolling his eyes before looking back down at his laptop. 
“whatever.” he grumbled.
and for the first time, silence hung over the two of you. the only sounds present were the clicking of keyboards, the occasional doors opening and being closed by the students either entering or leaving the library, the quiet laughs from another group of students in another table a few feet away from yours while the both of you were slowly trapped into your own worlds.
❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁
a low groan left san’s lips as he stretched his arms out back, letting out a yawn in the process to make the drowsiness he accumulated from having to work on the assignment go away, sighing as the his tense muscles loosened up from the hours of staying hunched in front of his laptop. dark pools of chocolate stared out the window, and judging by the sky had turned from a clear blue to a now orange and crimson with a few specks of pink here and there, it was already evening.
a soft snore made its way into his ears, causing the male to look over at you. It seems you had fallen asleep while working from the way your hands were somehow still on the laptop’s keyboard yet your head was rested on your left arm. some of the strands of your hair had blanketed your cheeks as your eyelids were closed shut, twitching ever so slightly. for once, your face looked as if it was at ease, a huge contrast from your daily scowls and clenched jaw every time the two of you see each other in the hallways or class. 
it was when you let out a light groan that managed to make san snap out of his daze, blinking a few times as he caught himself staring at your sleeping figure. clearing his throat to hide the growing heat blooming over his cheeks, tugging the collar of his shirt slightly to let the breeze from the library’s air conditioner cool off the sudden warmth he felt creeping up his neck. he had made the conclusion that the two of you were done for the day.
the screeching noise from the legs of the chair dragging against the floor was enough to jolt you awake, immediately lifting your head, though your eyes were squinted due to heaviness of sleep still evident on your eyelids. 
“good morning to you too, cupcake.” san mused, shoving his laptop into his bag. 
ah, there it was. the look of distaste has appeared yet again. san couldn’t help but to snicker inwardly at the sight.
“i said don’t call me that. what time is it anyway?” you yawned, then stretching your arms out in front of you to get rid of the sore feeling on your lower back and shoulder blades.
“time for us to go is what it is.” san answered plainly, smirking at the way you sent him a glare. 
“unless, you wanna sleep in the library, cupcake.” he added.
seeing his point, your lips formed into a defeated pout as you started to gather your things, double checking to make sure you saved your work in your laptop. pushing the chair in, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. All you need right now is to lie down in your bed after a good shower.
“i’ll see you tomorrow. you better not copy a whole wikipedia page again, san.” you said, walking past him. 
you were a few steps away from the library’s main door until you heard san calling out your name, making you freeze momentarily in place. confused, you turned around to see san rubbing the back of his neck.
“i..” he started. 
your eyebrows furrowed, puzzled to see why he was acting this way. you patiently waited for him to say something, expecting him to send something snarky at your way. suddenly, he shook his head and waved his hand dismissively.
“never mind. don’t be late tomorrow, cupcake.” he said.
scoffing, you looked at him disbelief before shaking your head, turning around to finally leave the library.
meanwhile, san stood in the middle of the library and took a breath in before slowly letting it go, lips pursing out as he did so. his eyebrows furrowed, seemingly feeling a tad odd as to why his heart was beating so fast. The familiar warm feeling was felt in his chest as well as the image of you sleeping had popped into his mind.
with a shake of his head, san quickly made his way out of the library. 
‘i have a lot more things to worry about.’ he thought.
❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁
it has been a few days after that and much to your surprise, san hadn’t been making comments at your clothes or hair or rather, everything about you. even yunho had asked if things are in good terms now, you and san. but you could care less, all you wanted was to finally present the project the two of you had finally finished just yesterday. although it was odd, you were actually grateful that the two of you seemed to have calmed down. yet you had to think at how long this will actually last. 
you’re giving him three days at most before he starts his petty arguments with you again.
you failed to notice the one sitting next to you, thinking that it was only yunho who had finally arrived in class. that was until you received a text from a certain tall peachy haired friend of yours.
‘hey, i can’t make it to class today. i guess it’s your turn to lend me notes this time :p’ the text said.
with furrowed brows, you read the text over and over again. though the more you read it, the more you were confused. what was he talking about? yunho would never miss a class. plus, he’s literally right there next to you. lifting your head up, you decided to confront supposedly tall friend.
“yunho, what did you mean by this te-” your words died in your throat. instead, a sharp gasp was emitted from your lips. 
next to you, san looked at you with a raised brow, amusement painted over the features of his face. 
“cat got your tongue, cupcake?” 
oh yeah, definitely. 
how could someone not be surprised at the way he was acting now? of course if two people hated each other they would have sat at a distance from each other, just like how san would sit near the window, behind you, or even at the back row, just anywhere and not literally right next to you. 
“any reason what you are doing here?” you asked, to which san rolled his eyes at you.
“you seem to forget that we take this class together, cupcake. plus, we needed to present today, remember?” he flatly said, now taking out his laptop as the other students filled the room.
you weren’t surprised to see the confused stares being sent at your way. honestly, you could be one of them too, wondering what the hell was going on. 
“i’m pretty sure there are plenty of seats around?” you mumbled, taking your eyes off of him to take out your own notebook and prepared your stationary for the class.
“and? it’s not like i would burn while sitting next to you.” he retaliated while trying to hide the growing smirk on his lips.
“unless you’re secretly a mage and could burn me anytime soon.” san added, eyes not taking off of his laptop screen to check if everything was in check before going up front to do the presentation.
“i wish i could.” was the last thing you said before the lecturer walked in, and class was in session. 
the both of you were supposed to focus in class but sometimes, you can’t help but to catch san’s gaze on you, him quickly averting his gaze away from you to listen to the first couple of groups present their work until it was finally the time the both of you were up. 
honestly, you weren’t surprised with just how fluidly san explained every little details of your projects from the definition to the history, to the objectives, and even the cause and effects. you, on the other hand, would answer the questions being thrown in between your presentation by either the lecturer or from your classmates. 
san would have to give all the credit to you at how calmly you responded to some of the most obvious questions as well. knowing him, his sharp tongue would have sent them a snarky response or two.
before you know it, the both of you finished your presentation.
“that was wonderful!” your lecturer praised, clapping his hands while both you and san bowed your heads simultaneously. 
“i knew that both of you could work together, look at you finally getting along!” he laughed.
you and san looked at each other then at the lecturer, smiling awkwardly over at him. clearing his throat, san emitted a strained laugh while you just rubbed your arm. the both of you looked so awkward that it was almost painful to the eyes. 
“we sure are…” you muttered, making your way back to your seat once the two of you were allowed to go back to your seats.
despite all of that had happened though, you felt like a huge weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. with the days of non stop bickering with choi san, the constant erasing and retyping up a few paragraphs, along with the all nighters being held… it's safe to say that you are finally free. for now, that is.
since the professor of your final class of the day had cancelled it, you had planned to just go straight home, considering that you were free for the whole afternoon anyway, and catch up on that much needed sleep that you had lacked the past week. And the fact that the next day is a weekend as well? You weren’t surprised if you slept until sunday. so as soon as the lecturer had wrapped things up for the day, you started to gather your things.
“cupcake, can i talk to you for a second?” san spoke up, making you halt your movements in packing the things up.
at first, you found the nickname to be utterly cheesy and a tad embarrassing. you had tried to make san stop calling you that, even if it meant for you to send a sharp glare at his way whenever he called you that. you had slowly grown accustomed to the name and dare say, started to like the nickname. as much as you hated to admit, you also thought that it sounded cute. 
“what do you want, san?” 
once again, it felt as if you were back on that certain day while at the library. san rubbed the back of his nape sheepishly and looked down at the floor, before taking a deep breath in, exhaling through his nose then looking up at you.
“care to have lunch with me?” he offered.
you could only stare at him, dumbfounded at his sudden offer. after a few seconds, you chuckled and scratched the back of your ear, while san scrunched his eyebrows. 
“i'm sorry, i thought i heard you wrong. i thought i heard you asking if i wanted to have lunch with you?” 
“that's what i just said?” 
your jaw went slack as you stared at him with wide eyes, resembling a deer caught in headlights. your eyes searched his face as if to look for any hints of him just kidding and go back to bickering with you over the smallest things.
but it never came.
instead, he genuinely looks confused. 
“and for what? are you gonna poison my food?” you eyed him in a skeptical manner, eyes narrowed. san snorted and shifted his weight on one foot as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“had i wanted to poison you, i would have done it a while ago.” he mused.
okay, is this really san? the boy who had laid pranks on you? the boy who wanted to make everything in class with you a competition? the one who made the both of you kicked out of the classroom? the one-
“cupcake? i'm not gonna hurt you, damn.” san reassured, rolling his eyes as he sensed the still unsure expression on your face.
“i'll explain when we get lunch, mm? now, come on.” 
before you could even protest, san grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the classroom, much to the curious stares being sent your way by your classmates.
❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁
“this place looks cute. How did you find it?” you asked once you settled down in your seat, san sitting across from you.
the two of you ended up in a small cafe just near your college. you were actually surprised that you hadn’t come across this place from years of being in college. though with how it was surrounded by other tall buildings in the area, you thought that it would be understandable how you didn’t see the place in the first place. yet, you weren’t complaining. with how it was hidden among the large buildings, it wasn’t crowded and you liked it. however, you didn’t expect san to have known this place.
san leaned against the table, elbows both resting on top of the faux marble with a shrug of his shoulders, and then he smiled. you silently took the short chance to admire the way his usual sharp gaze looked so… tender with the way he smiled, some sort of fiery yet passion had glazed over them. you recently noticed how he had an eyebrow slit as well, not even going to lie to yourself at how he managed to pull that look. 
“i recently knew about this place a few days ago on the way home after football practice.” he simply answered, glancing out the windows that seemed to almost reach the floor.
of course, the aesthetically pleasing cafe was not enough to keep your mind from wandering off. something was still bugging you on the way here. mimicking the way he rested his elbows on the table, you leaned a little closer to him and called out his name, making sure you had san’s attention.
“is there a specific reason why you suddenly wanna have lunch with me?” you asked, the usual sharpness of your voice whenever you bickered with the male was replaced with a soft, yet genuine curiosity laced in your tone as you spoke.
san, realising the real reason he had brought you here in the first place, sent you a little smile, albeit awkwardly.
“well, you know how the college’s football team would have a game every year, no?” he started, not really sure as to how to really break it to you.
“i mean, obviously. you guys have it every year, and have yet to have one this year.” you said, now resting your chin on the palm of your hand.
“which is really soon.” he added.
“how soon?”
“next week on wednesday? damn, i knew you weren’t into our matches but i didn’t it was to the point you would forget the dates.” he laughed, shaking his head.
“you gotta remember that i was also busy burying myself researching about our topic.” you deadpanned at him. 
the both of you looked up as an elderly lady came to your table with a tray in her hands filled with your orders, mumbling a low ‘thank you’ as soon as she walked away. swirling your straw around in your milkshake, you took a small sip out of it, humming in approval as soon as the sweetness from the drink washed over your tastebuds. 
“anyways, what about the game?” you asked, taking another sip from your milkshake.
“will you be coming?” 
that was enough to make you choke onto your drink, causing you to choke as san quickly handed you a napkin with wide eyes to which you gratefully took and wiped the corner of your lips and chin, looking down at your clothes in case some of the droplets landed on them. 
“you okay there, cupcake?” he asked, concerned but still amused to see your reaction.
“i.. you do know that i barely even know how football works.” you started with a slight cough in your sentence.
“so? i’m sure like half of the college doesn’t even know how it works.” he replied with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, taking a small piece of his chocolate cupcake, promptly eating it once he lifted the fork up to his lips. 
“and why are you asking me whether i will come or not?” 
you were genuinely confused at this point. you barely even know how football works, all you know is that someone just had to bring the ball to the opponent’s goal and… touchdown? yeah, that’s pretty much it.
“well.. It’s either a yes or a no question. you can either come or not, your choice” was san’s response.
his gaze was on the little piece of the cupcake he had on his fork, but instead of eating it, he poked it against the surface of the plate. he didn’t have the courage to actually voice out his reason, san knew he had a bit of a difficulty when it comes to voicing his feelings. especially if it involved some type of apology. 
you could only stare at him in silence. so many thoughts suddenly swarmed in your mind at his offer. what happened to the san who always started arguments with you, and who is this quiet boy sitting in front of you poking his cupcake? you decided to shrug the thoughts away,
“i’ll think about it.” you mumbled.
silence started to fill in between the both of you, both eyes focused on either your drinks, your food, or the scenery out the window. the longer the both of you were in, the more you were feeling fidgety in your seat. as if wanting to fill it, you parted your lips to start a random topic.
“y/n.”
the way san suddenly called your name made you stop yourself, caught off guard from the way he had called your name. usually it would be the usual nickname. when your eyes met with his own, you tilted your head slightly to the side as if urging him to continue whatever he was about to say. you couldn’t help but to notice the slight flicker of conflict happening in his eyes along with the way san’s lips opened and closed, looking like a fish out of water, as he contemplated his words. as if to reassure him that he could take his time, you sent him a gentle smile. 
but what happened after that made san freeze in place.
your hand, although a bit unsure, reached out to grab his. switching his gaze from your hand in his to your eyes, he could feel the growing warmth spreading all over his chest yet again. before he could ask what you were doing, you beat him to it.
“take your time in collecting your thoughts, i’m ready to listen.” you whispered.
it was another side of yours he hadn’t seen before. well, towards him, that is. san would always be greeted with your sharp tongue and the irritated tone of your voice whenever the both of you were caught in the middle of your heated arguments. but this time… you sounded so.. gentle? san wasn’t sure but all he knew is that your words managed to comfort him. 
with a faint nod of his head, his eyelids fluttered shut as he took in a few deep breaths to calm his nerves, hand still holding onto yours. once ready, he faced you yet again.
“do you… really hate me?” he asked. 
the question surprised you. 
yes, yes i do hate you. yes, i hate how you make everything a competition whenever we have class together. i hate how you would smugly act like you weren’t the one who kicked my chair. i hate how you have to act like a total smartass and make me look dumb whenever we have our debates. 
you wanted to say those words but.. somehow, you couldn’t. from the last few times of working the project with him, you had come to the realisation that all of it was childish, that all of it was merely petty. is it really hate? or was it just pure annoyance? 
you swallowed thickly as you subconsciously gave san’s hand a gentle squeeze, to which made the male look down at your intertwined hands. 
“i’m gonna have to know the same thing.” you said underneath your breath. 
the words that left your lips made san shake his head, calling out your name softly so that you could look at him. 
“i… never hated you. i guess i just felt.. challenged?” he explained, grimacing at his choice of words.
“if you meant by the one time i beat your score back then i don't think it's val-” 
“no, god, no!” san cut you off immediately with a shake of his head. straightening up in his seat, he had decided that it was time to get this over with.
“i guess… i guess i just thought that you were interesting to me. where you would be so unbothered by everything around you, the only concern you had were about your studies.” san explained softly, and you listening to his explanation intently.
“and from the way you talk about things so animatedly towards yunho, believe me, i heard about the stories you told to him when i was sitting behind you.” he chuckled at the way your ears turned pink, playfully glaring at him.
“i can't help but to feel intrigued but the more i wanted to shove those feelings away, the more it started to bother me. the more it bothered me, the more i… grew angry.” he said sheepishly as he saw the way your eyes somehow brightened up upon finally registering the words in your head and realising something.
“and i'm guessing you took the anger out on me?” you asked, to which san hung his head low with a small guilty nod of his head.
you couldn't help but sigh. true, there was a lot to process on. with how he had treated you before, surely, you would have yelled at him right in the face for doing so. you could even dump your milkshake on top of his head to get a taste of his own medicine from how he embarrassed you from his pranks. 
but… but you just can't.
“as much as i wanna punch you for making my whole years of college a living hell,” you spoke, san flinching his shoulders as he caught his lower lip in between his teeth, preparing himself for whatever has to come. 
“i acknowledge your intentions.” you added. 
“however, that doesn't mean i condone your actions, choi san.” 
san nodded his head quickly at your words. he won't lie, he had never thought that the short period of time working on the project with you was enough to reevaluate his actions towards you. he had remembered the time where one of his friends on his team, mingi, explained that it was no use trying to take his frustrations out on you by picking up the pettiest arguments instead of talking things through. yet, he was stubborn.
if he was being honest, san was grateful that the lecturer had assigned both of you as partners for the project. had he not, god knows how long san would have taken to actually speak about this with you.
the squeeze on his hand managed to gain his attention, his piercing gaze softening up at the sight of your warm smile. 
“i want you to promise me something, san.” you spoke once again, him tilting his head to urge you to say whatever it is.
“i want you to promise me that we won't fight anymore. it will take time for me to completely forgive you yet that doesn't mean i will pass an opportunity to start over.” you said, face all serious yet your eyes held the same gentleness to them.
san could only stay silent. not because he was contemplating your words but rather, surprised that you wanted to actually start over with him. the warmth in his chest only now expanding and surging throughout his whole body, while the palpitations of his heart increased. he's relieved. he's happy. and.. he wants to start over again. with his cheshire cat smile, san nodded his head. 
“i promise.”
❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁
“and aurora team has won the game!” the speaker announced in the remaining few seconds of the match.
that alone was enough to make the whole crowd go wild. some screaming, some waving their hands frantically in the air. the other side, some held disappointed looks while most consoled the losing football team. In the field, players shook their hands while praising each team for playing well. 
placing his hands on his hips, san tried to catch his breath from the intense match earlier before taking off his helmet and shook his head, his raven strands were a tad damp from the sweat. his eyes were looking around for you, though he swore he had seen your face right in the front row as they were preparing for the game earlier on but you weren’t there? maybe it was his imagination
feeling a slight weight on his shoulder, san looked at the owner. wooyoung, who was the one patting his shoulder, sent him his usual bright grin, promptly patting san’s ass. the latter wasn’t feeling uncomfortable from it, knowing how it was his best friend’s way of being affectionate.
“good game out there, san.” he laughed, slinging his arm around san’s shoulder as they walked.
“yeah, you too, wooyoung! your defenses have improved.” san praised the other boy who let out a light chortle. 
“gotta be on a par with my best friend, ya know?” wooyoung joked, letting san’s shoulders go so that the both of them could freshen up.
it was when san finally got out of the locker room that he saw a figure he didn’t expect to see. pushing yourself off of the wall you were leaning against, you approached san, his eyes focusing on some kind of a small box with a neatly tied bow stuck on the lid. though you had a little scowl on your face, your eyes looked to the side to hide the growing crimson blooming over the apples of your cheeks.
“you played well today so here. consider it as a treat for you.” you mumbled, effectively making san’s eyes to widen ever so slightly, yet he decided to tease you a little more. 
“you never fail to surprise me with your unpredictable self, cupcake.” he chuckled, taking the both into his hands. it was rather light weighted, he was almost convinced that it didn’t have anything in it but with the slight rattle from the inside, there was something inside.
“can i open this?” he asked, you nodding your head. 
your eyes watched him slowly untying the little bow you had made yourself before he slowly opened the lid, anxiously waiting to see his reaction upon seeing the little gift you had given him. a gasp resonated around the both of you as san’s eyes widened at the sight. 
reaching into the box, he lifted up the little bracelet decorated with black and purple beads, seemingly handmade. he couldn’t help but to notice the little cupcake charm dangling off the bracelet along with his initials.
“i thought that cupcake would remind you of me just how a mountain reminded me of you.” you said.
only now did san realise the bracelet around your wrist, only the beads were in your favourite colours with your initials on them instead. He also didn’t fail to notice the little mountain charm dangling on it as well. 
“i’m sorry if it’s not much but i really hope you i-”
your words were suddenly caught in your throat as you were engulfed into a tight hug. the familiar scent of san’s cologne wafted into your nose and filled your senses, slowly making you intoxicated and wanting more. slowly, your arms encircled themselves around san’s torso, feeling him hold you closer against him and felt a slight pressure brushing against your ear. 
“thank you, cupcake. i love it, a lot.” he whispered.
those words were enough to make your lips stretch out into a wide grin as you buried your face against his shoulder, thankful that he couldn’t see the pinkness blooming over your cheeks. 
“should we celebrate your victory at the cafe, san?” you mumbled, almost muffled with how your face was pressed against his shoulder.
laughing lightly, he pulled away ever so slightly, just enough to have a look of your face and nodded his head. before the two of you started to walk, san held out the box and asked if you could put the bracelet on him, claiming it was much more special to have the maker putting it on instead of him. of course, you couldn’t resist. especially not when he looked at you with those puppy eyes of his.
once it was on, you watched as the male happily shook his hand gently and watched with an awed expression at the way the little charm moved. content, he sent his bright grin and held out his arm for you to take, which you happily took as the both of you started to make your way to the cafe
❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁
“hey san, your girl’s here!” wooyoung’s loud voice as soon as he saw you making your way to the sidelines of the field made san stop his stretches, all sweaty from the amount of times he practiced for the day. 
“wow, she brought food too?!” mingi’s deep voice boomed, getting up from the grass and jog up towards you, san trailing behind.
“hey guys! I brought food since i know you guys must’ve been starving from practice.” you laughed as soon as yeosang made his way near wooyoung, no doubt wondering if you had brought any chicken with you. 
soon, the rest of the team had sat down in a small circle eating the food that you had brought for them. some of them were still discussing their strategies and forms when on the field in order to improve their mistakes, while some are just relaxing and talking about random topics. it was when you felt two arms wrapping themselves around your waist made you look up, seeing the bright smile of your boyfriend, san. 
true to his words, san kept his promise in starting over with you. the next few days after the incident in the cafe were a bit awkward, san constantly apologizing if he had said the wrong thing to you, though you had to reassure him every time that it was alright. you knew that it took some time getting used to so you were incredibly patient with him. your classmates, especially yunho, were glad the two of you had finally made up from the grudge against one another. it took you a while, but san managed to warm up to you, even interacting with yunho as well.
the rest of the time was spent hanging out at the cafe after classes, making it your and san’s favourite place to go to. the days of hanging out turned to weeks, and to months. it was the sixth month that things took a whole new turn, a good turn.
“what’s all this, san?” you had asked, noting all the decorations had adorned the small cafe, 
from what you remember, the cafe didn’t really hold any special occasions, as the elderly lady had said. san merely led you further inside the cafe, his hand on your lower back as he gently led you to the back, effectively making your eyes widened in awe from the sight.
there, polaroids of either you or san or even both you in them decorated the walls and hung on the little strings. balloons were floating in the air as in the middle of it all was a small table with a tray of your favourite flavoured cupcakes. turning around to face san, you were about to ask what the occasion was. Yet your words suddenly disappeared.
san, stood in front of you with a single red rose in hand, his lips holding a fond smile with eyes looking down at you in an adored manner. 
“y/n l/n, my cupcake..” he started, you softly giggling from the nickname. of course, he just had to throw that name in.
“i know that i have been a total ass to you during the first time. but i wanted to thank you for giving me a second chance to start over, and fix all of the problems we had.” your expression softens before you feel san grazing your cheekbone with his knuckles, making your stomach flutter at his gaze. 
“you were always patient with me, still are. you weren’t afraid to call me out on the shit i did. you’re always there to cheer for me in every match i have, even if you still don’t know how football works.” the raven haired boy couldn’t help but to laugh at the playful glare you sent towards his way before continuing what he really wanted to say.
“but along the way of our friendship... “ his voice trailed off, suddenly feeling his nerves racking up his mind. 
as if sensing him tense up, you grabbed san’s hand. just as you did the first time to console him. the gentle reassuring look in your eyes managed to soothed san’s feelings, the nervousness slowly dissipating.
“all i’m trying to say is, i wanna try us, cupcake.” he finally managed to say, nervous eyes looking into your own soft ones. 
his words were enough to make the smile on your lips stretch into a huge jovial beam. without a word, your arms wrapped around his neck, much to san’s shock. quickly gathering himself, san instantly engulfed you into his own embrace and buried his nose into your hair, lips brushing against your crown.
he didn’t need an answer, but he already knew what it was.
“what’s in that pretty mind of yours, cupcake?” san whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine as he did so.
turning around in his arms, your own arms wounded around his waist, reaching a hand up to move some of the stray strands of raven locks covering his eyes. “hm, about us?”
the response was enough to make san raise an inquisitive brow, “oh?”
“it’s a surprise that at first we were at each other’s throats and suddenly, look at us.” san merely chuckled and leaned down just enough so he could bump the tip of his nose against your own.
“hey, lovebirds! hurry up or we’ll finish your food too!” wooyoung yelled, making the both of you look at him, realising how the whole team was looking at your way.
“you better not!”
and with that, the both of you walked towards the group hand in hand, the little cupcake and mountain charms dangling on the bracelets around your wrists.
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filipinoizukuu · 3 years
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I have the notebook in hand now I beg you for explanation
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HSBFNDSJNFVN my dearest snail oh jeez 😭 i have about maybe dozens of stories about accidentally being y/n, so i'm prayin and hopin none of my IRLs see this. Some details hidden for privacy.
LONG story ahed, so be warned.
-
So. End of winter to early spring about a year before COVID-19. I was still a little snot-nosed high schooler hanging out with my friends and generally being a nuisance upon society. For those of you that have never seen me in real life, the first thing you need to know was that I was adorable, female-presenting, and had the appearance of a goody-two-shoes star student down to a T.
Now, the second thing you need to know is about my friend group and how a majority of them were guys.
I'm not talking about like, darling boy-next-doors and fellow star-student nerds. I'm talking about teenage boys. GUYS guys. Rowdy and wrestling in the hallways, getting into fights, and pulling (harmless) pranks on each other kind of guys. The gross type because I love my friends but even I can admit they're kind of gross.
One day after school, we're hanging out in someone's truck on the way to a get-together. There are about four of us just chilling, me being the only girl. Someone's phone goes off and we look to see one of us pick up his phone.
Now, this friend, let's call him S.
S picks up the phone and starts talking to it. We hear bits and pieces of the conversation and he sounds a little nervous. He puts the phone down and looks at us with a weird expression and says he needs to get home.
"What gives, S?" we ask, slouching in our seats and drinking sweet tea, like all other self-respecting teenage hooligans. "Who was that?"
S explains to us very carefully that he just got off the phone with his auntie and that she wants to have a sit-down and dinner with him. We coo and make fun of him a little and acquiesce, driving on over to his place to drop him off and embarrass him in front of his parents as friends do. We tell him as much when S lights up and looks at us like he just got the world's best idea.
(Heads up! It was not.)
"Guys! I have a better idea."
The rest of us look at each other. "Which is...?"
"What if I pretend to have a girlfriend to impress my Aunt?"
Record scratch. Pause. I suddenly remember that I am the only pretty 'ole lady in this small and stuffy truck. In an instant, all eyes on the vehicle are on me.
No, hell no. I think to myself, there's no way I'm ever going to do this. This is how every fanfic starts and I am absolutely not emotionally available enough to do this. And you know what? That's exactly what I should've said.
Instead, what came out of my mouth was this:
"Buy me a tub of ice cream and I'm all yours."
And thus, the devil's deal was sealed.
Minutes later, we're exiting the truck and looking over at S's white picket fence and perfectly maintained garden. S goes with me and I suck it up, bracing myself for the performance of my lifetime. We do not hold hands and our other friend (E) walks behind us while dying of laughter. S opens the door and we are immediately greeted by the sight of his kind-looking Auntie welcoming him with open arms.
S waltzes in.
"Auntie... this is my girlfriend, Codi."
Now, a quick word about me and how I was in real life at the point of this story. I looked the part of an adorable overachieving student, and while my grades did match up, my attitude sure as hell didn't. I'm naturally a very loud and boisterous person. I 'get into fights' and curse just as well as the rest of them. I had a reputation in a few areas for having the knack of making my underclassmen cry. The point being, I wasn't a saint.
But I was a damn good actor.
"Hi Auntie!" I greet with the peppiest and highest voice I could manage. I skip towards her and shake her hand, smiling like a cracked-up cheerleader in a Coca-Cola ad from the '80s when they made it with actual cocaine. "Your nephew S is just about the sweetest thing ever. He's so nice and smart and I'm incredibly lucky to have him!" I lie through my teeth.
In the background, I can hear E on the verge of deranged cackling while S just stands there and coughs into his fist like an emotionally constipated tuberculosis patient.
My Limit of the Day has been reached, so I shoot Auntie S a quick grin when she enthusiastically thanks me for my services and then haul my ass out their door, E hot on my heels. We leave S behind to deal with whatever shitstorm came after and I tried my best to not look back.
The moment the old truck door slams shut behind us, E abso-fucking-lutely loses it, guts busting with how much he's laughing. We high-tail it to the get-together and I make him swear up and down to not mention it for the rest of the day. It's over, at this point, the thing's been done and there's no other damage than my sanity and maybe S's relationship with his aunt. At least, that is what I thought.
Hours later, S texts me.
hey so um. remember that thing earlier?
Odd question, because how could I not?
yeah so. my aunt stayed for dinner and my parents arrived early and they asked me about school so. long story short... my whole family thinks we're dating.
Predictably, I lose my mind. I ask myself how I got into this situation and then imagine the sweet, sweet ice cream waiting for me at the end of this ride. I'm like, okay! This isn't so bad! It's actually really funny if I think about it enough. At least it's contained, right? I say my famous last words. It's not like I'll ever actually meet his family again.
So I go to bed and decidedly Pass Go, Collect $200 on any fanfics or other friendly drama that night.
The next week, I walk into school. I'm going about my normal business when I bump into my friend group. They pounce on me like a hound of dogs, making rounds of congratulations with varying faces of amusement. "What?" I go, like an oblivious idiot.
From like 15 feet down the hall, a familiar figure turns the corner and I lock eyes with him. Something clicks into place and I realize that there were actual witnesses to S's convoluted brownie-points shenanigan that I didn't consider.
"E," I say. "you are so fucking dead."
My friend group, who E had apparently told about my whole schtick as S's Rent-a-Girlfriend, breaks out into laughter and dodges as I power-walked my way to kick E's shins with the fury of a thousand 5'3 suns.
We went about the rest of our day until it hit lunch break, and of course who else to apparently wait for me in front of my class other than S himself.
S grabs me by the wrist and pulls me along throughout the campus. We're lightly conversing the whole time, me weaseling a time and date to my beloved reward tubs of ice cream as promised. Without me realizing it, we end up in front of two very familiar rooms.
Another thing, really quickly, about this whole storyline. S was not just an ordinary friend, you see. He was special, in a way, in such that his two closest friends were my crush (at the time) and his best friend who I'd recently rejected. Now those two have a whole 'nother story on their own which I'd deign to discuss publically, so you'll have to settle for those apt descriptions.
So, those two aforementioned mutual friends of ours walk out of those rooms and turn to make eye contact with us. They laugh, good-naturedly, and I sigh in relief because it seems that of all people, E had not gotten the hot gossip to them just yet.
I beckon the two of them over, being none the wiser and thinking we could take our break together when the final straw hits
S throws his arm over my shoulders and pulls me closer.
"Hey guys, Codi's my girlfriend now!"
... You can guess where the argument fits now in this timeline.
(I got my ice cream very shortly after. We're all friends now and it's all water under the bridge! This was a long story so if you've made it this far, just know that this is all but a funny memory to look back on for me and I've since moved on.)
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themadauthorshatter · 3 years
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Guys? I know I just called Tiberias Calore VI, Flame of the North, King of Norta, and Ruler of the burning throne a terrible parent and an alcoholic(which he still is, and I have the time, so I'll call him a terrible parent and an alcoholic), but let's go back in time and get some happiness because that last Red Queen post was, admittedly, just brutal😢.
Hiding a pregnancy was, surprisingly, easier than hiding the affect of the nightmares.
At first, Coriane figured the game would be over as the child inside of her continued to grow more and become more noticable in the trim gowns she usually wore.
Hiding them- the child she didn't yet know- soon became a project, à la fixing a transport.
Rather than have her maids dress her, she had chosen to dress herself instead- a habit she'd picked up on doing since coming to Court. Loose clothing always made her appear smaller than she was, made her look approachable to anyone, despite her place married to a King. It also served her well in hiding the ever growing lump her baby was growing in.
She barely attended training, though, in light of the nightmares taking their physical toll on her body, Tibe had her examined by nurses and healers.
"Your Highness, are you sure you're alright? Your feet are swollen and you seem like there's a weight on you."
When she'd been asked that, she had to stifle the instinct to rub her stomach and instead wrap her arms around herself.
"I'm alright," she replied, more hesitant than she would have liked, but the words smoothing as she continued. "I tried training a while ago and tried a move I shouldn't have. I used some braces, though."
The Healer scowled at her, forgetting Coriane's place as Queen and seeing the stubborn girl that always chose to help herself instead of seek proper assistance.
"I got better. Maybe it's more like... a phantom injury."
"Or you should have come to a Healer when it happened. Can you imagine if you'd set them wrong and didn't know?"
To keep further questions from arising, Coriane only shook her head; Jessamine had taught her well in the art of knowing when to stop a fight from continuing. "No."
The Healer nodded at her and continued to check on her, noting that despite her feet and growing intolerance toward physical contact, she was fine, chalking it up to the Queen's nightmares attacking her body more than her mind.
Still, Coriane remarked as she left the infirmary, eying the bump hidden beneath her thin cardigan, a close call is better than someone finding out.
Another close call occured during a war meeting she attended with Tibe before he had to leave for the front. Even though he was expressionless upon hearing of the attacks on his people, beneath the table his fists shook, either out of anger toawrds the Lakelanders advancing or fear for the safe of what family he had left, fear of losing his mother, despite her prowess, brother-in-law, and wife to a seemjngly unending war.
"Should they make it past the Choke and cross into our boaders, there's hardly a chance we can stop them," the Legionnaire explained. "Our soldiers, although they're trained well enough, keep getting mowed down, as well. They aren't enough man power to hold off an onslaught."
Tibe, who had been sitting quietly in thought, finally spoke up. "For every Red soldier, how many Silvers are on the field?"
"Fifty to one."
When he remained silent, the Legionnaire paled.
"You can't be thinking..."
"If the Reds can't put up a decent fight against the Lakelanders, we'll send in more Silvers to make up the difference."
"With all due respect, my King, surely there is some sort of alternative."
The words drew no reaction from Tiberias, but Coriane lowered her gaze to her hands, picking at her nails to distract herself from the implication.
When Tibe's fingers laced with hers, she welcomed it, welcomed the warmth and closeness their current situation could allow.
"Reds are being conscripted by the minute, more than a hundred by the hour. They can be difference enough."
"Reds don't have power," Tibe seemingly spelled out, scornful as a teacher. "Reds don't have strength. Numbers be damned, if they can't fend off the Lakelanders, we'll have to start sending Silvers to fight."
"Silvers of High Houses? Have them open for slaughter when fifty Reds can get the job done with proper leadership?"
"Your general has trained, led, and been victorious with every Red soldier he's had, what better leadership do Reds have?"
"It is not his fault they're incapable-"
"Can't you just understand it's not working!?" Coriane snapped, drawing every eye to her, including Tibe's, the mask of a warrior King dropping when he took one look at her tear stained face.
"No matter how many Reds you throw at the Lakelanders, they'll be slaughtered without hesitation! You can't shoot down a Magnetron or drown a Nymph, if you have nothing to defend yourself with!"
"Cori," Tibe murmured softly, his tone gentle despite the earlier debate, "that's enough."
The words did their job in soothing the Queen, nodding and apologizing as her husband gently pulled her close to him.
"How soon can we have Silver soldiers sent to the front?"
The finality in Tiberias's words brought the Legionnaire back to the matter at hand.
"As soon as they're ready, though, from what I've heard, they've been training since three months ago."
"Have the most experienced and capable sent to the front while the rest continue training."
With that the meeting ended, and Coriane practically scurried away, if only to avoid the glances from those in attendance.
"If you don't mind my input, I don't understand why bringing the Queen to these meetings is one of your priorities. Do you expect her to keep you safe from unwanted news?"
Tiberias turned, eyes sharp and burning with a fire strong enough to kill.
"She isn't protecting me," he said lowly as he drew closer to the Legionnaire. "She's here to protect you."
In her room, Coriane lay on her side on her bed, her hand caressing her abdomen as her own words echoed in her mind.
Regardless of the fear of losing a fourth child to her nightmares, her emotions had still gotten the better of her.
It's no wonder I shouldn't have come here.
Usually Julian was someone she could turn to during these times, if not him, then Sara, but with archives discovered and needing to be translated, and Healers needed at the front, neither were around for her to talk to.
It was childish, but part of Coriane felt abandoned, even though her brother promised he wouldn't leave her alone.
But how can anyone be brave enough to say no to a King?
Sometimes it was easy to forget, see two people inhabiting Tibe at once: the lonely Prince she'd first met at the banquet and the King that sat upon a throne of flames and blood, strong enough to burn all of Norta to the ground, if he so desired.
And he'd married a poor girl of House Jacos.
What kind of Queen am I, if I can't even bear him a child?
A knock on the door stopped her from building on the thought further.
"Coriane?"
When she remained silent, he knocked again.
"Cori? May I come in?"
She hummed loudly and nodded, and Tibe walked in and shut the door behind him, missing when she grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest.
Despite his strength, his rank, the ability at his fingertips, the myriad of metals she'd seen him wear, even the control he held over a room of other Silvers, he seemed... smaller, unsure as he carefully sat next to her.
He's the King, and he's the one who's scared?
"Are you alright?" He asked as he rested a hand on her upper arm. "I know the meetings aren't easy to handle, but I don't think I've seen you get so upset."
Upset was putting it more than lightly. Three nights of waking up to blood staining the sheets and missing a child before it was born made her more than upset. Hiding her fourth pregnancy from her own husband, out of desperation for the child's safety more than her own, made her more than upset. Fearing for Elara Merandus attacking her mind, even with Arven outside her door, made her more than upset.
"Yes, I'm fine," was all that came out instead.
Neither spoke for a while, leaving them in cursed silence.
That was until Tibe's hand clenched around her arm, just enough to let her know she wasn't alone.
"Don't lie to me," he said, pleadingly so. "I know there's something you're not telling me."
Coriane held the pillow closer to her, the tips of her fingers just brushing against her stomach.
He knows. He knows. He knows. He found out, and now he knows.
But Tibe turned his head away, looking back as his brow furrowed.
"It's Elara, isn't it?"
Coriane met his eyes and pushed herself up. "I don't know. Maybe it was before, but now..."
Now, with Rane Arven outside her door, an attack from Elara didn't seem likely. It didn't quell her fears entirely, but it was a comfort she welcomed, all the same.
Tibe's hand glided to her own, the warmth of his skin and body a blessing.
"Do you think House Merandus would do well on the front?"
Coriane gasped and whipped her gaze to him. "Tibe, you can't make that happen, and you know it."
"And Elara knows you are the Queen. If she wants a fight, she can glady have one to write home about. Whispers usually do well in a war," he said with an averted gaze and a shrug.
"But Merandus is one of the highest Houses. You know as well as everyone else what could happen, if they became an enemy."
Hers words settled in Tibe, leading him to sigh and stare at the floor.
"You're right. Damn it."
Hearing those words, and seeing her own husband pout like a child, drew a small grin from Coriane.
"As usual."
Tiberias turned his gaze back to her. "'As usual?' What do you mean, 'as usual?'" He asked incredulously as a smirk grew on his face.
Coriane merely shrugged and buried her face into her pillow. "Nothing. Just that I'm always right."
Although his jaw dropped, his smile remained, and Coriane giggled as she lie on her side, her facing him.
"You're always right?" He dared.
"Yes."
"You're the one who's always right?"
Coriane gasped, "You admit it?"
Quickly, and gently, Tibe pulled her back up until she was upright and hugged her close, her back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, Coriane yelping and giggling more than she thought she would, even when he gave her soft, butterfly kisses on her neck and shoulder.
"Who's always right?" He asked as he rested his chin on her shoulder, Coriane lightly chuckling after he stopped.
"Me."
"Wrong," he replied quickly before kissing her cheek and temple, driving his wife into another fit of laughter.
"Will you stop that!?" Coriane exclaimed, even with a smile on her face, "You're prickly and I don't feel good!"
"Then admit I'm always right and..." Tibe lowered to his side, Coriane nearly falling with him. Her heart skipped a beat as he cradled her body against his, one arm around her chest as the other rested over her upper arm. "Tell me what's wrong," he replied softly.
Coriane only grasped onto his arm with her hands.
I'm pregnant, she nearly said. I've been pregnant for a while now. I haven't told you or anyone else because I can't risk losing this one, too, or put you through more loss than you already have. Even if Elara is the reason I can barely sleep at night, I can't lose another child. Not for his or her sake, and not for yours, either.
She sighed, maintaining her smile from the onslaught of kisses moments ago.
"Fine. Yon win. You're always right. Happy?"
Tibe chuckled lightly and shook his head against her hair.
"That's not what I meant. Please tell me what's wrong."
It was like her uncle's funeral banquet, when Jessamine noticed her crying after dressing her for the occasion.
"Tibe, do you miss them? Julian and Sara?"
Tibe remained silent, his thumb rubbing her shoulder as Coriane continued.
"I know it hasn't been that long, but I do. I'm glad that you're here, Tibe, I really am. I don't know, I just miss them being here."
Tibe leaned up and kissed her cheek before nuzzling into her shoulder.
"I miss them, too, Cori. They'll be back soon, I promise."
Like in the meeting, their fingers laced together.
"In the meantime, I hope I can make up for them."
Coriane nodded and held her head against his. "You already do, Tibe," she replied softly.
Tibe held her closer, feeling his Queen's body effectively relax under his touch.
After a while of silence, blissful and welcome, Tibe kissed her cherk and sat up.
"Where are we again on sending House Merandus to the front?"
Coriane snagged the pillow she'd dropped and swatted him in the chest. "Stop that," she exclaimed.
The look of a challenge returned to Tibe's face as he took the pillow and tossed it back to the head of the bed. "Openly attacking your King? Whatever shall I do with you?"
Coriane inched back toward her lost weapon. "Don't you dare come near me with that prickly stubble or I'm shaving it off myself!"
Tiberias faked a gasp and held a hand over his heart. "And now you've threatened the King! You traitor," he chided playfully.
Coriane only reclaimed her pillow and held it back for another strike. "Try me."
Tibe fought a snicker and nodded, holding his hands up in surrender. "Alright. You win."
Coriane lowered her pillow as Tibe kissed her lips and held his forehead against hers.
"I'll tell anyone who asks you're sick and need to be alone while you heal. Just rest now, alright?"
Coriane nodded.
Tibe stood and turned to leave the room, brisk as he had been trained to do.
A King's work is never truly done, Coriane remarked before he stopped and looked back at her.
"Is there anything you'd like me to bring back later?"
Coriane blanched and shook her head. "You don't have to. I can... ask for the chef myself, in case you're..."
Tibe only returned to her and held her hands. "Cori, please."
Again, there was that desperation in his eyes, as if Tibe saw nothing but the girl he'd met many years ago and was willing to do anything to keep her alive.
He could have chosen someone else, someone stronger, but he chose you. You are his Queen.
Coriane nodded stiffly, uncomfortable and still unfamiliar with being served in Court.
Tibe placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her forehead, holding her close. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can. Please. Get some rest."
"I will," Coriane replied as she placed a hand over his.
With that, he exited her room, reluctant in spite of his promise to return.
Coriane could only smile as she rubbed her stomach, carefully unmarred and thankfully unnoticed.
It was a blessing she still had the boy she'd met, that the crown hadn't taken him away just yet.
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blizzardfluffykpop · 3 years
Text
The Ko’s Arcade
Summary: Falling for the arcade owner’s son is a lot easier than you think. 
[He would probably propose to you with a vending machine ring ngl very cute tho].
Do or Not Series
Fluff
Word Count: 2,843
Shinwon X Reader
I’ve been going to the arcade on the outskirts of the city for years. To the point where Mr. Ko knows my whole family, considering they were the ones to start bringing me here. My parents thought I would stop going to The Ko’s Arcade when I was a seventh-grader at the latest. But here I am, almost out of college and still going at least once a week. Who knows, there might be a new game there? Or better yet, they have a new prize to win. Or a new thing to get at the vending machine. It’s a reward after a long week of courses, tests, and my job. The stress relief of beating Donkey Kong at his own game is the best feeling. But it not only those, maybe it’s because Mr. Ko’s son Shinwon is working there now? Yeah,... about that,... I may have a slight crush on him,... May. 
“You’re going to that silly arcade again?” My mom asks, and I nod, “It’s Sunday, so yeah.” She shrugs and tells me to enjoy myself and to tell Mr. Ko ‘hi’. I ride my bike over to the arcade, and for the next five hours, I am going to play some games and unwind. And possibly sneak a peek at the cute guy who runs the prize station. The bells ring above the door as I walk in and spot a few kids playing different games. Shinwon goes, “Welcome back to The Ko’s Arcade!” I grin and wave at him and walk to the back to find Q*Bert. After eight levels and three different tries to get up to the ninth level. I give up as I hop on the snake by accident again. I decide it’s not worth the hassle and get a pop from the vending machine. 
While looking around for another game. I catch Shinwon playing a two-player racing game by himself. Working up my confidence, I make my way over to him and challenge him to the next round. He smirks, “Alright. What’s the reward if we win.” I scrunch up my nose and think for a moment before it hits me. I need fifty more tickets to win the giant stuffed animal I have been eyeing. I rarely play the games that spit out tickets, so it is harder to earn than you would believe. “If I win, I want the big stuffed animal you guys have behind the counter.” He nods and tells me, “If I win,... the next time you hit the high score on Donkey Kong, you have to write my name.” I scoff, “Of course,... it has to be my title you are after.” He laughs, and I grin, “So is it a deal?” I nod, and we both shake hands. 
Let’s just say the game did not go as I expected. I expected to be at least in second place, if not in first. Let me say, Shinwon had some tricks up his sleeves and knew the track better than I did. Considering this was my second time playing this game, and probably his fiftieth. I ended up in last place in the first two races, and by the third, I was finally in seventh place. Shinwon moved around in numbers going from second to fifth to first. There goes my Donkey Kong high score title, I’ll miss it, but at least I’ll know that it’s me that has the highest. Mr. Ko will be in shock that my high score got taken by Shinwon. When everyone knows he is awful at the game like I am with racing games. I pout over him as the last race finishes up and totals our scores. He laughs, and in a teasing voice, he goes, “Did someone lose?” I pout and nod my head as he smiles over at me before he types in the winner. I don’t look at who’s name he types in till it circles back to the leaderboard. And printed in bold red letters is (Y/n). He winks at me and helps me out of the chair. 
He walks us over to the prize counter and reaches underneath, and pulls out a clip-on stuffed animal. He hands it over to me with a smile playing on his face. I grin at him as I realize it’s a little monkey. “Here, I had an unfair advantage on that racing game. Plus, your favorite game is dad’s favorite so,...” I thank him and put the monkey on my belt loop with a big smile on my face. I tell him to give me one second, and I race over to my backpack. And take the hot wheel car pin off of it and hand it to him. The one I had won at the arcade years before, “You suit the title of the best arcade racer better than I do.” He gasps, “My dad hasn’t carried these for years! They went out so fast that I didn’t get a chance to win one!” I grin and pin it to his green and white striped jacket. “Well, here you go. You deserve it.” It’s his turn to blush, and we give each other a fist bump before I make my way over to Donkey Kong. 
Three hours later, I hit the high score again. He comes over as I’m about to hit enter. “You don’t have to put my name as the high score, by the way.” He tells me, and I turn around to look at him and hit the enter button as I shake my head. “Yeah, but a deal is a deal. By next Sunday, I’ll have your score blown out of the water anyway.” He smiles, “I’ll gloat while I have the chance then.” I grin, “You go for it, King Kong.” He laughs as he says, “Whatever you say, Speed Racer!” I laugh and grab my backpack and make my way out. “I’ll see you next Sunday?” I ask, and he tells me, “Couldn’t miss it.” My heart is pounding by the time I leave. 
--
Next Sunday, like clockwork, my mom tells me to have fun at the arcade. But weirdly, it isn’t Shinwon standing behind the counter to greet me it’s Mr. Ko. “Good Morning, Mr. Ko!” I exclaim, and he goes, “Ah! Good Morning, (Y/n)! Bright and early like usual!” He notices me looking around for Shinwon, and he says, “If you’re looking for Shinwon, he’s in the back. He’s getting ready to put a new game out.” I nod as he points to the back room, and I decide to go back there. 
I open the door and don’t spot Shinwon, but spot some old classics I grew up playing. Like my mom’s favorite Pong. When that went out of order, she stopped coming in. Or Ms. Pacman, my dad’s favorite. I hope someday they will come back out on the floor. As I head further in, I see Shinwon struggling with a cardboard box, and I can’t help the giggle the falls from my lips. He whips his head around in my direction, I wave, and he smiles at me, “Here to help?” I shrug, “Am I getting paid?” He rolls his eyes, “Depends if you’re good to help.” “And if I’m good help?” He smirks, “We’ll see.” I shake my head as I place my book bag down and try to see what he’s doing. “Usually, the boxes come off easier, but this particular game is a special order so,... it’s packaged weirdly.” I nod and grab the box cutter he was using and slice down the side carefully. We pull on either side, and it still doesn’t give. After a few minutes of figuring out the best approach, we agree on ripping the box open. When we get it open, he asks, “What do you think?” I grin, "This is gonna be fun." He smiles as I take a closer look at it. Unlike the classics that are stand to play, there are chairs for you to sit and play on the tabletop arcade. On the instructions, it contains a bunch of old classics that no longer inhabit the place: like Pong, Asteroids, and Centipede. I help him wheel it out, and we each grab the two metal chairs and bring them over. He plugs it in and says, “I challenge you to Centipede!” I smirk, “You know I’m a pro at the classics!” He shrugs, “Are you?” 
Two hours later, after playing the different games, he has to return to the counter. Five kids walked up to the register with a bunch of tickets. His dad went home after we came out of the backroom, which left him to run the ticket counter. I watch him from afar and see how kind he is with the kids, and my heart melts a little. I remember being that age and rushing up to the counter to see what I could get. Or if I needed more to get what I want. Hoping that I would have enough time for one more game before my parents came. That Mr. Ko would let me have the prize although I was off by a few tickets. It seems that Shinwon is no different in that department; the one kid was off by five, and he still handed him the fifty-ticket item. I smile to myself. How could I ever get tired of this place? It’s filled with my childhood memories and,... Shinwon. 
As I watch him, I realize I’m in deep with my feelings for him. From his smile to his aura, I can’t help but fall more and more for him each second. He comes back over to me and says, “Sorry about that--” I cut him off, “Don’t be, we were both kids once.” He smiles, and I continue, “It was cute how you cared for them. You reminded me of your dad--” He groans, “Ah man, not my dad!” I shake my head and laugh, “Your dad is like the coolest and sweetest--.” He smirks, “Are you trying to say you find me cute and sweet?” I roll my eyes, “I was going to finish my sentence with ‘old man’. But I mean if the shoe fits--.” He shakes his head, and I laugh. I squeeze the little monkey he gave me that is hanging off of my belt loop. And I notice the pin I gave him is still in the same spot. He notices the monkey is still on me. He smiles, “I see you still are wearing the little guy.” I smile, “It seems you still have the pin.” 
Five more games against Shinwon, and it’s time for me to go home. I start to bid him goodbye when he goes, “Before you go, I know I’m going to regret it if I never ask you. Would you want to go on a date with me sometime? It's okay if you don't want to!” I turn around and look him in the eyes and ask if he is for real. He nods, and I grin, “I would love to, when and where?” He taps his chin with his first finger in thought and goes, “Would the pizza parlor uptown be good?” I nod, “I believe so, around six pm tomorrow?” He nods, “I get off at five, so I can pick you at six?” I nod, “Sounds good to me, King Kong.” He laughs, and I bid him goodbye, and he yells after me, “See ya later, Speed Racer!” My heart is beating out of its chest as I race home. The butterflies in my stomach are unbearable, “I have a date with my crush, Ko Shinwon, tomorrow!” I don’t realize I yelled that out loud until my dad let out an, “Um??” I laugh and scratch the back of my neck, “So uh, when were you going to tell us that? Is that why you always go to the arcade?” I shrug, “Partly, but I also have to defend my title as the champion of Donkey Kong.” He laughs, “Well, I trust you two, but be back home at a reasonable time.” I nod and race to my room, throw my head into the pillow and squeal about it. 
--
At 6 pm sharp, I hear a knock on my door, and I race over to it. I bid my parents goodbye after slipping on my shoes and head out with Shinwon. When we reach the pizza place, he asks, “Are you any good at card games?” I grin and nod my head as we slip into a booth. He pulls out a deck of cards and deals them out. “I challenge you to a game of War!” By the time the waiter comes over to take our order, we are in a heated battle. We only break our concertation to order the pizza and our two drinks. Before we are back in action, firing cards at one another to see who will come out on top. Unlike the last time with the racing game, I come out on top. “I win!” He groans and dramatically falls back into the seat. I laugh, and he smiles as I choose the next game like Rummy, and he pulls a pad of paper out of his deep pockets. “How deep are your pockets in the jacket?!” He grins, “I can hide a whole lot of movie theatre snacks in these babies.” We laugh as we start up the game. We finish the game coming out as a tie with a perfect 500 on either side. “I guess that means we’re even.” I wink at him, “Not for long.” He smirks at me as I grab a pizza slice from the pan. “May the best player win!” He exclaims when we shake hands before we devour our pizza. 
“Winner gets a kiss on the lips!” Shinwon exclaims, and I blush, “Alright but be prepared to lose!” I tell him with confidence. He grins, “Either way, I’m a winner.” Thirty minutes and three pizza slices later, I win the card game. I blush as I realize what’s going to happen. He wipes his hands off on a paper towel. I push the pizza pan to the side, and he reaches over the table. I meet him halfway as he puts his hand underneath my chin and places a chaste kiss on my lips. Before he can get away, I pull him back in for another kiss. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while, King Kong.” I sigh as we pull away, and he grins, “So have I, Speed Racer.” I hide my face behind the cards and blush. He laughs at me and pulls the cards down, “You’re cute.” I give him a small smile and tell him, “I think you’re cuter!” 
Three games full of laughter [a few kisses] and two pizza pans later, we’re, finally, worn out. We walk out of the parlor, and right outside is a small vending machine that flattens coins and stamps them. We rush over to it, thinking the same thing. Luckily, I have two pennies in my pocket as I slip one in and type Speed Racer in cursive on the machine. When it comes out with a hole punch on the top for a necklace chain, I hand it over to him. “So whenever I’m not around, I’m always with you.” He grins and puts it in his jean pocket, “Okay! My turn!” He makes mine, and when it comes out of the machine, he hands it over to me. Placing my hand over it so I don’t see it at first. I open my hands to see a few goofy little smiles on it. And in big block letters, it says, ‘King Kong’. I grin and place it in my jean pocket as he tells me, “It keeps me close to you. I think I like you.” I grin, and peck his cheek, “I think I like you too.” He places his hand over his cheek and throws his arm over my shoulder. Before he places, a big kiss on my cheek. I can’t help but laugh as we walk home together. 
When we reach my house, I go, “Do you want to go to the movie theaters next time?” Shinwon grins at me, and I continue, “Well, I got to see how many snacks we can sneak in with those pockets!” He laughs, and before he parts to his house, I kiss him. He kisses me back, and when we part, it feels bittersweet, “I’ll see you soon?” I nod, and he leaves as I go inside, I hear a loud, “WOOHOO!” And I can’t help but laugh because I have the funniest and cutest date possible. I cannot wait for Sunday,... Maybe I’ll see him before that. I tell my whole family, filled with excitement, “So are you going tomorrow to see him?” I grin at my mom, and I nod happily, “I think so.” 
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littledrummeraussie · 3 years
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angie congrats on 1k!!! your writing is next level, and i immediately love everything i read by you so you definitely deserve it 💖 i was wondering if i could a fic based on these gifs. i really have no prompt or specific pairing in mind and i will be happy with whatever you give me 😌😚
Thank you so much Gracie!!! 💖 I’ve found a real cute idea for this, hope you’ll love it!
Also, credit to soulmatecashton for the gifs!
- - - - -
”Can I buy you a drink?”
He was the third guy that night who came up to you with the same pick up line, and you wondered what was in the air that made all of the male population suddenly very interested in you, especially since your friend Luke was sitting next to you, exactly for this reason: to scare creepy guys away.
”I’m not interested,” you gave him a polite smile, and he lightly chuckled, clearly not intending to leave yet.
”I would like if you would buy me a drink,” Luke held up his empty glass, giving the guy a look who just smirked at him.
”Not interested.”
Luke started laughing, and held out his fist for the guy who bumped it with his own, introducing himself as Ashton. After that he turned back to you, holding his hand out.
”Can I know your name?” he asked, still smiling.
”I would rather not,” you replied at the same time as Luke said: ”Y/N.”
”That’s a pretty name you have there. Suits you,” Ashton pulled a chair closer, turning it around to straddle it, resting his elbows on the back. ”So, still don’t want that drink? Your glass seems empty.”
”Guess I’m not thirsty anymore,” you shrugged, and you felt Luke elbow your side, giving you a pointed look.
”I get it, you think I’m a creep,” Ashton laughed, lightly kicking his feet against your chair, making you look up at him. ”But I promise you, I only want to buy you a drink and have a chat.”
”Maybe I don’t want that because I’m here with my boyfriend?” you asked, now kicking Luke’s leg to play along, but Ashton just scoffed at you.
”He doesn’t look like an overprotective boyfriend,” he nodded towards your friend. ”Sorry, mate.”
”I’m just her overprotective best friend,” Luke grinned, putting his arm around your shoulder before turning to you. ”But I like him, we should keep him maybe.”
”See? Best friend approved,” Ashton gave you a toothy smile, and you needed to laugh at their banter. ”Aww, that’s a first one!”
”Tell you what – let’s see if you can pass the best friend approved game,” you pointed behind his back, and Ashton turned around for a second before turning his attention back to you. ”If you can beat Luke, you can buy me that drink.”
There was a Spider Boxer a few feet away, a punching game Luke liked to play with your other friends. Even when he was drunk his score was the highest, making him the uncrowned champion in the group. Ashton gave another look to the game, then one to Luke, finally settling his gaze on you.
”I have a better idea – if I can beat Luke, you go on a date with me. If you still say no after that, I’ll leave you alone.”
”What’s in it there for me?” you rolled your eyes, but then sighed, nodding. ”Fine. Deal.”
Ashton let out a quiet yes, already tapping Luke’s shoulder to go with him and start on their game of punching. They’ve agreed on 3 rounds, highest score wins. You followed them with your eyes, trying to figure out who were you really rooting for. Truth was, Ashton looked like a nice guy – he was handsome, had a charming smile, and definitely had some softness to him; no wonder Luke was ready to give you away for a drink.
They’ve been discussing something as they put a few coins into the machine, then started taking turns on the game. As always, Luke started out with a high score, but Ashton quickly beat him in the first round. Your friend lightly punched his shoulder, making a comment which sounded a lot like nice one, before getting ready for his next round. Ashton turned his eyes towards you, giving you a grin and a quick wink, and you once again rolled your eyes at him, making him laugh again. They’ve been watching Luke’s score going up higher and higher, and Ashton nodded while giving him the thumbs up.
”Impressive,” he shouted your way, approving of your friend’s luck before quickly punching the bag, scoring just under Luke’s points. ”Dammit.”
”One last round,” you shouted over to them, and Luke giggled, saying something that you couldn’t quite catch before he held onto the top of the machine, punching the bag again.
He almost had a perfect score, and you bit your lip as Ashton was getting ready, taking a sip of his drink before pulling his arm back and punching the bag with all of his strength. The machine gave a rattling sound before the score started going up, up, up and you felt your cheeks getting hotter as it finally settled on 999 – a perfect score for your handsome stranger. Ashton turned to you with a grin and you didn’t know if you wanted to scoff at his smug face or kiss it senseless. Luke shook his hand, clearly impressed with him, then both of them walked back to your table.
”I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ashton pulled out a folded napkin from his jacket pocket, putting it down in front of you. ”Here’s my number. I’ll pick you up at 6.”
Before you could say anything else he leaned over to you, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek, and you felt another blush crawl up your neck at the gesture. He gave you one last wink before saying goodbye to Luke, making his way across the bar before he disappeared.
”You let him win,” you punched Luke’s chest, scoffing a little.
”Of course not,” he rubbed the spot with his hand, giving you a cheeky smile. ”I’m just a little rusty, that’s all.”
”You’re a liar, Luke Hemmings. And a bad one too.”
”But you liked him,” he pulled you closer, grinning at you. ”I can see it in your eyes!”
”Maybe a little,” you kicked his leg, and he laughed again, kissing your hair. ”You’re a terrible best friend!”
”No, I’m the bestest best friend!”
”That’s not even a word.”
”Bestest,” Luke repeated proudly. ”By the way, you should have let Ashton buy you a drink. Now I have to do it myself.”
”That’s what bestest best friends do,” you pushed him a little. ”Go and get us something, you loser.”
…and if Luke did meet up with Ashton at the bar to give him your number and address, well, that was just a really happy accident. Not that you planned on going on that date with him. It wasn’t like you had outfit options already planned in your head. And you were definitely not thinking about kissing him. Of course not.
 …maybe just a little bit.
- - - - -
taglist.
@mymindwide @loveroflrh  @notinthesameguey @babylonashton @talkfastromance4 @dead-and-golden @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @karajaynetoday @ashtondaddy90 @myfavfanficsever  @myloverboyash  @suchalonelysunflower @castaway-cashton @rebelwith0utacause @irwinkitten @spicycal @cxddlyash @devilatmydoor @sexgodashton
131 notes · View notes
peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years
Text
Sink Or Swim
tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @sassy-sara @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane @odi-et-amo85 @watermelonlover-123 @xiaomailab
~^~
Monday, 08:08
Song: Mr Probz - Waves
Jens is nervous.
His hand bumps against Lucas’s, fingers twitching as if planning to intertwine before they flutter away, raising to rub at the back of his neck or push through his hair. Lucas hesitates to take it in his own. He doesn’t want to increase Jens’s anxiety by pushing unwanted affection onto him, and he certainly doesn’t want to do it in the middle of the street. Since telling their friends, Jens has been more than open with their relationship, almost to the point of flaunting it, but Lucas can’t be sure that recent events haven’t changed that.
He is reassured slightly when, about a block away from the school, Jens finally gives in and grips his hand tightly. Lucas holds on, squeezes, brushes his thumb over the skin soothingly, all he can think of to make Jens relax. But when he notices the uneven cadence of the other’s breath, he draws them to a stop and tucks them in against the wall, blocking Jens from the odd passerby with his body.
“Hey,” he says, coaxing Jens around towards him and capturing his gaze. “You don’t have to do this. You can go back to the flat. We both can.”
Jens shakes his head, taking another uneven breath. “It’s just getting in there. I’m fine, I swear. I have Robbe waiting and you with me. I’m good.”
Lucas squeezes his hand. “You have all of us,” he reminds Jens softly. “You have a crazy amount of friends who love you and would do anything for you.”
“I know.” Jens blows out a sigh, nodding. “I know that.”
“Okay. How about we just take a minute here, hm? Just a few extra seconds for us.”
Jens nods again, closing his eyes and leaning into Lucas. Lucas sets a hand on the back of Jens’s neck and plays with the ends of his hair, trying to soothe his own heart. This is so far from the Jens that he’s familiar with, and it pains him to see. He has seen Jens falter, has witnessed a number of his inner struggles and seen him both sad and unsure. But these are always simply moments—washed away in a sudden instant with a smile and a light beautiful enough to challenge the moon. Lucas hates that this runs deeper. He hates that Jens is in pain and there’s very little anyone can do to take it away.
“Stop worrying about me,” Jens pokes him in the side. “You’re gonna get frown lines if you keep pouting like that.”
“And you wouldn’t love me then?”
Jens pretends to consider it for a little too long, and Lucas punches his shoulder. Jens makes an exaggerated sound of pain, then laughs when Lucas presses up onto his toes to give him a brief kiss.
“Come on,” Jens mumbles, before stealing another peck. “I’m okay.”
Lucas sighs, settling back on his feet. “Okay.” He retakes Jens’s hand and leads them towards the gate, merging back in with the growing stream of other students.
Jens does seems a little more relaxed, and nothing in his posture changes as they make it to the courtyard. They both cast their gazes around, but it isn’t hard to find a bundle of familiar faces. The other boys are sat at their usual table to the side of the building, but this time the girls are with them. They are crowded onto the bench seats and perched on the table and standing at the side and completely and totally oblivious to Lucas and Jens’s arrival until they’re just a couple of feet away. Yasmina spots them then and her lips turn up in a smile as she waves, earning the attention of the rest of the table. Jens’s grip on Lucas’s hand tightens just slightly.
Moyo is rocking back and forth on his feet as they grow nearer, and he latches onto Jens as soon as the boy is within reach. He pulls him into a brief but tight grip, clapping his back once and offering a greeting that Jens easily returns.
Lucas watches the interaction with a smile, and accepts Moyo’s fist-bump/handshake combo when it’s offered.
“Morning, boys,” Zoë says, smiling gently at them both as Robbe scoots down the bench, shoving Aaron on the way until there’s enough space for Jens to slide in next to them. Lucas simply takes up his station behind him, looping his arms loosely around Jens’s shoulders and smiling when his boyfriend sneaks a kiss to his hand.
“Ey, come on,” Luca waves a hand at them from across the table. “Isn’t there enough affection from living together without the public displays?”
“Still jealous, I see,” Jens quips, raising his brows at her as Lucas huffs a quiet laugh, relief already spreading through him.
Luca flips him off and sticks her tongue out at him, and Yasmina laughs from her place standing next to her. “That’s a great way to defend your maturity.”
“Thank you.” Luca takes a mini bow to herself.
Robbe elbows Jens in the side before propping his cheek on his fist, twisted around to smile at them. “I think they’re cute.”
“Of course, you do,” Moyo snorts. When Lucas elbows him, he adds, in protest, “I didn’t say he wasn’t right.”
Jens reaches up to grip Lucas’s hands, leaning a little further against him, content to let his friends and boyfriend joke and bicker. It works to put Lucas at ease, too, when he’s able to note the tiny smile on Jens’s face.
Zoë speaks up hesitantly from where she stands at the opposite corner of the table, next to Amber. “I’m not trying to be nosy or pushy,” she says slowly, “but what are your living arrangements?”
It manages to suck a little of the light back out. Zoë already seems apologetic as Jens’s shoulders curve inwards, making himself a little smaller even as he shrugs. “I’m just staying with Lucas, for the time being.”
They all absorb this for a moment. Aaron looks across at them and asks, “Like until it blows over or...you find something else?”
“I don’t think this will be something that blows over,” Jens admits quietly.
Moyo shakes his head, scuffing his shoe loudly against the concrete with his arms crossed over his chest. “That’s some fucking bullshit. You haven’t even gone back to get your stuff this weekend, have you?”
He hasn’t, and it’s obvious by the fact that he’s wearing Lucas’s clothes, which aren’t quite as loose as his usual outfits. They’re all also aware that Jens still doesn’t have his phone, though he’d been able to use Lucas’s laptop to stay in contact with them and to call Jana the night before. Lucas had sat in the sitting room with his dad to give Jens his privacy, and he’d joined them about an hour later with red eyes and less of a weight on his shoulders.
Jens shakes his head and tugs Lucas’s hands, and Lucas holds him closer against him.
“Do you want somebody to go with you?” Yasmina asks.
“I don’t know. Luc’s dad already offered to drive me, but I don’t actually know if it’s the best idea to let them interact.”
“I’ll come with you,” Moyo immediately offers. “Luc can even come in the car as moral support if his dad’s driving us. Whenever you want to do it.”
“If you want to do it,” Lucas corrects. “Dad can go get your things, seriously. And I’d make sure he does it on his best behavior.”
Jens tilts his head back to look up at him, debating over the two options. He eventually seems to come to a decision and asks, “Would he be able to drive us tomorrow evening?”
Lucas nods. “If we ask him, he’ll make it work for you, yeah.”
Jens glances up at Moyo, but the boy is already shaking his head. “You don’t even have to ask, man. I’m there.” He taps Jens’s temple with his knuckle and earns himself a grateful smile, that he only returns with a nod.
“If you’re looking for somewhere,” Zoë speaks again, drawing the attention back towards her, “I think Milan would love to have you.”
“Yes, fuck,” Robbe brightens, smiling at her. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”
Lucas can’t believe he hadn’t, either, but Jens quietly admits, “I thought about it. But I still have no way of paying the rent.”
“Dad said—“ Lucas starts, but is cut off by Jens squeezing his hands.
“I know. But I can’t accept that.”
“Did he offer to help you pay?” Yasmina raises her brows. “Jens, an offer like that must be genuine.”
“I know,” Jens repeats, sighing. “But it’s too much. First I’m living in his house and then he’s paying my rent? What does that look like?”
Lucas squeezes him. “Who cares?” When Jens looks up at him again, he continues. “I don’t. Dad doesn’t. I’m pretty sure Milan wouldn’t. You really could get a part-time job and he could just help make ends meet.”
“Did you think about getting a job?” Moyo asks. Lucas and Jens nod. “There’s a place going at the cafe. They’d hire you no problem.”
Jens blinks at him. “Really?”
“Yeah, man. It’s basic enough work and the pay is minimal enough but honestly better than most places. They don’t need much of a CV for washing dishes and busting tables. It’s gonna be a little more stress on top of school, but if you want it, I’ll see if I can get you an interview?”
“Seriously? Do you even have that much sway?”
Moyo shrugs. “I’m one of their highest-tipped workers. They love me. Honestly, man, you could handle this job like a pro.”
Jens still hesitates, looking up at Lucas again for help. Lucas squeezes his hands and shrugs, but smiles encouragingly. “I can’t see anything wrong with trying.”
“If it gets too much, you can always quit,” Amber points out. Lucas thinks this is the first time he’s seen her so serious, without her usual bubbly demeanor. “We can all help take care of you if you need us.”
“Even Jana,” Zoë reminds him. “She told me you spoke to her. Just because she’s not here doesn’t mean she’s not available for you any time.”
Robbe bumps Jens’s shoulder. “Sander, too. And Milan and Senne. Any of us, any time, okay?”
Jens’s nod is slight, and Lucas can tell he’s getting overwhelmed. It doesn’t seem to be in a bad way, however, so he feels safe enough to lean down and press a kiss to Jens’s hair. “And me, always,” he whispers against his temple, and Jens clutches his hand and lets out a tremulous breath.
“You’re sure Milan wants to put up with another stray?” he asks Zoë.
Zoë grins at him. “I think he’d love nothing more.”
“He’ll be fucking ecstatic,” Robbe agrees. “We’ll never escape him.”
Zoë and Jens laugh, and Jens glances around them all another time before breathing, “Thank you.”
The first bell rings before they can offer any more sappy replies, so they all simply smile, before sighing or groaning as they rise and collect their things.
“I’m a little disappointed that not a single one of you offered to take my exams for me,” Jens sighs. “Especially you, Robbe. I’m friends with you for a reason, nerd.”
Robbe makes an affronted noise and gives him a shove, leading into a chase towards the school as Jens runs away from him with a laugh bursting out.
Lucas grins as Luca joins his side and fondly claps his shoulder, hoping that things are finally looking up.
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jenovahh · 3 years
Text
The Honey Pot - Ch. 15 - Mating Dance
It doesn’t take long after those words for Zenos to announce you would be going home for the night and retiring before it got to be much later. You could feel his pressing stare on you the entire way to the limo where Ardbert waited, the atmosphere tense as you silently rode back to the estate. As soon as you reached the premises you were ordered to spill everything that had occurred while he was distracted, verbatim if you wanted to live.
There was a lot of yelling late into the night, a lot of frustration as Zenos seemed ready to threaten the truth out of you, and you being halfway done with bullshit after having to already be in his father’s presence more than what was required of you. You thought you had placated him enough to have him let you go to bed to rest, but that only gave him the energy to admonish you in the morning.
“I already fucking told you what he had said! He wants to use me as a pawn to go see if I can glean any secrets from kicking the bodyguard’s ass. What don’t you get--”
“What you do not get is my father’s motives are not so simple, you stupid woman--”
You snatch him by the collar and pull him to you with a guttural growl. “Call me stupid again, Garlean.”
“Stop acting like you are, savage.” He chuckles, pulling away fast enough before your fist can connect with his face. “I won’t let you strike me so easily, my beast.” All amusement has drained from his voice as he looms above you, doing his damndest to intimidate you. However you’re too riled up to take him seriously, throwing all caution out the window as you loom right back. “Whether you like it or not, you need my protection.” He murmurs ominously, a chill racing up your spine but you pay it no mind. “Why are you so eager to follow his orders now? Why are you in such a hurry to go run off to that farce of a man who could never match me in might, let alone your own strength?”
You bare your teeth, eyes aflame as you snarl at him. “I’m in no rush. You told me yourself not to disobey your father. But if the thought of a little competition gets you this upset, I’ll go over there in the tightest dress in my closet--” You cry out as he lifts you up by the front of your shirt, his eyes cold as ice. The same murderous intent you had seen in his eyes before but never had he aimed at you. Instinct screams at you to flee, common sense yells at you to go limp in submission.
Naturally, you do none of those things.
“It had slipped my mind how much of a fool you could be, savage.” His voice is on par with how deadly he sounds talking with his father, his grip a reminder of the strength and cruelty he had wrapped in his gigantic form. “Sometimes I fear I’ve let you go unchecked for far too long.”
With a light tut, you grip his wrist tight and swing your legs up to wrap around his arm. Growling, he tries toshake you off but as soon as he reaches for you with his other hand you dig your nails in deep to the wrist that is holding you, making sure to hit a pressure point that has him loosening his grip. Holding tight with your legs, you work yourself out of the shirt you’re in, freeing yourself. Snarling, he moves to try and grab you once more but you are slippery like water, eluding his grasp with your smaller form, dropping to the floor.
Landing on both feet as graceful as a cat, you grab the arm he reached at you with and quickly wrench it behind his back, frowning as he lets out a slight grunt in pain as you put enough pressure to threaten to dislocate his shoulder. Leaning close against him, your lips are just a breath away as you whisper into his ear,“You’ve never had me checked in the first place, idiot.”
With a firm shove, you kick him away from you, leaving him to quickly fling his arms out in front of him to brace himself from falling on his face. He remains like that as you circle around him, moving toward the door. “I am going to follow your father’s orders as much as it pains me to do anything that piece of shit tells me to do. I’m not going to have him breathing down my neck because you can’t share your toys for two goddamn seconds.” You give one glance back at him, confused as to why he hasn’t stood or pursued you. He remains there, long strands of golden hair obscuring his face from view, kneeling upon the floor.
“With any luck I’ll be too shit at espionage to be of any use to your father and he’ll stick me back with you. I’ll at least have the time to go out and actually do something for once.”
With no more to say, you stride out the home gym, not giving another glance back. The halls are still somewhat quiet as you tread down them, the morning a bit quieter due to it being the weekend. You usually did not spend every morning on the weekend working with Zenos, needing to take days to rest your muscles, but due to unforeseen circumstances, things had changed.
I need to clear my head, you think, making a beeline to your room and from there, your shower. It had become your safe place, more than your room had. As many times Zenos had barged into your room unannounced, uninvited, unwanted, he had never gone as far as skulking around your bathroom. You had begun to personalize it before you realized, a few candles lining the shelves, some used bottles of bubble bath for the few times you got to luxuriate.
While a bubble bath sounded absolutely divine at this moment, you had no time to relax and pamper yourself, needing to still get dressed in time to make it to your meeting with Varis. Starting the shower, you turn the knobs to have it fairly warm, letting water cascade over your supple skin. You knew you were to be going to the Garlond estate under the guise of training with their strongest bodyguard, but since it was supposed to be espionage…
Reaching for a flowery, pink bottle, you dump a generous amount of it onto your loofah and lather it well, smoothing the scented suds over your skin. Just the scent of it is enough to brighten your mood and make you a little more eager about your outing today. Rinsing off, you grab your fluffiest towel to dry off, heading back into your room to get dressed. You had already decided to show up in your standard uniform, having packed away a change of clothes into another gym bag that you sling over your shoulder. Taking a glance at yourself in the mirror, you give yourself a nod of approval and head out into the hallway.
Varis' "public" office was thankfully on the bottom floor, meaning you didn't have to run the risk of bumping into Zenos. You had actually never been there yourself, and had to even ask one of the maids which door it was hidden behind. Giving your thanks you stride proudly toward it, head held high as you give a steady knock on the fine wood.
"Enter."
Twisting the knob you push it wide open, greeted with a slightly cool breeze. Like Zenos’ office, Varis' has no windows, but he is not in total darkness, as it is well lit by ornate lamps that stand in the corners. The room's glow is oddly warm for the cold stare of its occupant who sits at a rather large desk on the other side of the room. Between you and him are a grouping of chairs with a table at its center, and just from a glance you can tell it's only the highest quality leather. Shelves holding books line the walls, and there is even a small bar between them.
"You may sit." While phrased as a suggestion, it is uttered more like an order, and you nearly forget yourself before you shut your mouth and take a seat. The chair feels like it practically grabs you and drags you into its softness, the leather feeling amazing beneath your fingertips as you rest your hands on the armrests.
Varis continues to scribble away at whatever papers he's looking at on his desk, and taking a good look at him you notice he's wearing what seems to be a simple pair of reading glasses. They suit his face well and dare day soften his harsh features just enough that you would call him handsome. As usual, his hair is tied back in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck, ends clipped and perfectly trimmed and not a strand out of place.
"I appreciate that you at least have the decency to arrive here in a timely manner." He begins, placing his pen back in its stand. Threading his fingers together, he gives you an almost bored look, and you can see the traces of his son's features in his eyes. "I do not require you to be trained in any specific espionage for this. Simply act as you normally would and do not bring embarrassment to my name." Pushing away from the desk, he opens a drawer to his right and pulls out a small black box. As he stands you fight the instinct to not stand as well, not feeling comfortable with him looming above you.
"Within this box lies a necklace that will be recording all your conversations. It will not be feeding us said conversations in real time and instead be saving them internally where you will turn it in at the end of each visit." He informs, opening the box and taking the necklace in hand. It looks so small dangling from his fingers, but so beautiful. The Garlean logo is held in place by oxidized silver chain, giving it a blackened color. The red of the Garlean logo is made with beautifully cut ruby, making you wonder why he would spend so much money for this purpose, but to a CEO, it’s probably a drop in the bucket.
"At the risk of being rude, do you seriously think they wouldn't be careful with their words?" You blurt, watching as he raises a strong brow.
"Garlond is foolish, but not that foolish." Varis huffs out a chuckle, clearly amused. "However, his bodyguard is stupid. Much like yourself, he had just enough muscle and training to make a decent enough meat shield that Garlond snatched him off the streets. Perhaps you can use that as a talking point." He smirks, reveling in your ire.
"Whatever. Go over there, kick the bodyguard’s ass, act normal. That it?" You snarl, through hiding your distaste for him.
"For someone as simple as yourself to understand, yes, if you must put it so crudely," he scoffs, moving to stand behind you. You move to stand but a firm hand on your shoulder keeps you in place. "I do not want you to just act 'normal'. I am fully aware how closely leashed my son keeps you. Perhaps you may find a kindred spirit in this bodyguard…" His fingers flex and dig into your suit. "Perhaps you might find something else."
"If you are done here," You snap, shrugging his hand away but his other hand comes to slink the necklace around your neck. The chain is cool and light against your skin and hardly noticeable.
"If you are so eager to go, you may. I have already arranged for your transportation to and from their estate. This is a rather important mission I am entrusting to you, savage. I trust I do not need to explain the consequences should you sabotage it, or fail." His fingers drag along the exposed skin of your neck, and despite the obvious warmth of his body, his touch feels so frigid. "If there was ever a time to prove your worth, this would be it."
With one final press of his fingers into your skin he withdraws and you stand to your feet immediately, shooting him a glare that restrains none of your loathing. He looks as amused as his son would, except his expression is like a knife twisting in your gut with how disgusted it makes you feel. "I've nothing to prove to you. Or to anyone here." You hiss, making your way toward the door.
"So you say," Varis hums, walking back to sit at his desk. Reclining in his leather chair, he gives you a slow smile. "I look forward to your reports, Honey."
With a curt nod that maintains the bare minimum amount of respect, you walk out the door. Once in the hallway, you take a few steps before you feel safe enough to run through every cuss word known to you, unable to take out your anger on something physical. Taking some calming breaths, your hand glides up to the necklace that rests on your skin, frowning as you enjoy the feeling of the cool silver on your skin. You'd have to be careful with your own words as well, making sure to give nothing away or never knowing when it was recording. Something told you that the bodyguard, Estinien, was not stupid by any means, and that Varis merely looked down upon him like he did to anyone thay wasn't Garlean.
It's a lovely day outside as you step out, a Lalafellin driver waiting for you under the shaded awning. You greet him in acknowledgement, allowing him to open the door for you so that you may sit inside. As the door closes a sense of excitement bubbles within you, it finally starting to sink in that you are getting to leave the estate on your own for the first time in months. As the driver gets in the car and starts the engine, you gaze out at the sprawling grounds beneath an azure sky, missing the icy eyes watching you as the car pulls away.
The drive to the Garlond estate is longer than you think, as you have to go through the city which takes long enough in and of itself. Once you leave the skyscrapers behind, you're moving closer to the countryside, sitting just on the outskirts of Kugane. You've left the more packed residential areas behind and are left with bigger, more affluent houses that sprawl over the land. Most are as tacky and gaudy as the Galvus estate, making you wonder to yourself if all rich people had a propensity to have so much money and so little taste.
"We've arrived, ma'am." Your driver speaks up, the first words he's uttered since you first got in the car. Turning toward a gate you look toward a more modern looking home, that looks like it drew from neither Garlemald or Kugane for inspiration. All squares and boxes, it still looks eye-catching, protected by a wrought iron gate with a speaker outside that the driver pulls up next to.
Reaching with small arms, you watch as he pushes the button, that is followed by a sharp beep. "Garlond estate," A feminine voice answers.
"Hello, I am the chauffeur for Lord Varis, here to bring his son's bodyguard for her appointment." The driver responds.
There is momentary silence aside from the quick rustle of paper. "All right, you may come in. Please follow the driveway to the main entrance." As soon as she finishes her sentence, there's a loud buzz followed by the front gates slowly swinging open, allowing you inside. The driver does as instructed and follows the brick road toward the opulent house ahead of you. Getting closer, it somehow looks even more magnificent, and you entertain the idea of beating Cid nan Garlond's current bodyguard into the ground so well he'd consider hiring you.
Reaching the front doors, you see the man himself standing outside in simple slacks and a button down. Certainly not casual for being in what you assume is his own home, but definitely dressed for business while maintaining a sense of comfort. The car pulls to a stop, the driver shuffling out the seat to open the door and scuttle around to your side to let you out. Murmuring your thanks, you put one foot in front of the other and step out onto the hand laid brick, enjoying the feel of it beneath your feet. Cid nan Garlond himself offers a hand out to you, and you graciously place yours in his where he pulls you up from your sitting position with surprising ease.
He chuckles, most likely at your unintentional surprise clear as day on your face. “I may not get to be in the shop as much as I used to...but you lift enough machinery, you stay fairly fit.” He grins, giving your hand a firm shake. “I must say, this is already shaping up to be a much more pleasant experience without your employer to interfere.”
His smile is warm and welcoming, and you can’t help but open up to him in kind. “I have to agree. I must admit I had entertained the idea of pummeling your bodyguard so good you might consider hiring me while I was here.”
He releases a hearty laugh at that, releasing your hand with one more good handshake. “Why, I think I like you already, Honey.” Placing a courteous hand on your back, he urges you toward the front door where sweet air conditioning awaits.
Stepping in his home, it looks as beautiful inside as it does on the outside. You stare in awe at everything as you pass by, doing your best to follow behind closely.
“I take it my home is to your liking?” Cid questions, slowing his pace so that you may gawk a little longer.
“I apologize, I don’t mean to linger,” you giggle nervously, cheeks tinting. What a bum you must look like, the street rat Zenos calls you to be slipping on her Cinderella shoes for a taste of luxury.
“It’s more than all right. I’d rather it be looked at after all, I had it built for that reason.” He says with a wink. “I do not miss ‘home’ but I am also impartial to the native architecture. I instead favored the style I saw back from my stay in Eorzea.” He explains, giving you a whole new perspective on his home. No wonder you didn’t recognize anything about it; Eorzea was somehow even more foreign than Garlemald. Celebrities would visit from there all the time, but somehow you just...never...knew anything about it…
She watches over us, my dear. Over all of Eorzea, over your room, over you.
She?
The Mother Crystal, my dear.
“Are you all right?”
Blinking, your eyes slowly refocus back to Cid’s blue eyes that look upon you with concern. You quickly give him a small smile, scratching your head nervously. “I apologize. Just a slight dizzy spell.”
You see obvious doubt flash through his eyes for a moment before he masks it with something else. “Do you need to sit down?” He offers instead of saying whatever it was he was holding back.
“No, no, I’m fine, I promise.” You reassure him, taking a few steps ahead. “I think it was just a wave of fatigue from my earlier spar with Zenos.”
He relaxes visibly then, resuming his walk to wherever he was taking you. “You had sparred knowing you would be coming here?”
“We spar every morning,” you offer vaguely, hoping he doesn’t press you further about it. To think about the nuances of you and Zenos’ relationship was exhausting in itself, and you definitely didn’t want to get into explaining it.
Cid seems to be quick on the pick up and segues the conversation elsewhere. “I see. Well, I’m sure someone as talented as yourself knows their limits and is more than capable of taking on another strong opponent today.”
“Without a doubt, Mister Garlond.”
“Please, if I may call you by your given name, then it is only right I extend the same kindness, at least when your employer is not around.” He turns down a hallway, leading you past a magnificent indoor garden, that despite its large size, it was in no way visible from the outside. “Estinien usually has finished his own training by this time, but I believe he may have delayed it in preparation of your meeting today.”
“I have to say I’m a little excited. It's been so long since I’ve had an opponent outside of Zenos.” You admit carefully, trying not to stare at him too hard as you gauge his reaction.
“I fear Estinien could possibly say the same. Thankfully, I’ve kept myself out of trouble and he’s been more a piece of arm candy than an actual bodyguard.” He jokes, giving you a warm smile.
“Arm candy, am I?”
The two of you turn to find Estinien standing behind you, looking as grumpy as the first time you had met. Brows furrowed, he gives a threatening glare to Cid who seems largely unconcerned.
“Now, now, no need to take offense. After all, it just means you look good, now don’t you?” Cid teases, laughing as Estinien’s brow furrows impossibly further.
Sure enough, Estinien does look good. Dressed in a loose tank top, his usually unbound hair is tied back in a high ponytail, exposing the elegant line of his neck. Unlike Zenos who prefers to wear form fitting gym wear, Estinien has chosen some grey sweatpants that are baggy enough to be comfortable, but snug enough to where they won’t be a hindrance.
And if you give just a glance between his legs--
“But what are you doing out here Estinien? I thought you would be warming up for your little bout with our guest.” Cid comments as he begins to walk again to continue escorting you to wherever it was he was taking you.
“I went to grab something to eat.” He fishes out some dried calamari from his pocket, neatly wrapped in wax paper.
“Your favorite as usual, I see. Did you think to bring enough to share with our guest?” Cid asks, taking clear pleasure out of taunting poor Estinien.
“If she gets hungry I’ll take her to the kitchens,” The Elezen grumbles, frown deepening. “If you’re quite through making fun of me at my expense, I believe I can get the both of us to the gym quite well on my own.”
“Of course, I can see when I am clearly in the way and unwanted.” Cid sighs, unable to resist getting one last barb in. “It was a pleasure to share a few moments with you, Honey. Please do not hesitate to put this grouch in the ground if he tries anything untoward with you.”
You hear Estinien’s breath audibly hitch for a moment, your hands flying up to your mouth to stifle your laughter as the taller man goes red in the face. Before Estinien can even formulate a response Cid is already making a turn down the maze that is his house.
The frost haired male runs his fingers through his snowy locks in exasperation, his cheeks still a slight pink even as he glares down at you. “Ignore him.” He huffs, displacing the once bound strands. “He just likes to get a rise out of me, is all.” He grumbles, moving on past you. You give one last little titter before following along, trying not to embarrass him any further.
“So, did you have anything in particular planned for today?” You ask, following him down the hallway. Opening a door he lets you two outside where another building lies across the way. While smaller by far in comparison to the main house, it is still the size of an average home.
“Not in particular. Figured we’d just hit each other until one of us cried mercy.” He drones, his long legs carrying him across the land with ease. You find that he has a rather nice figure from behind, his shoulders broad and strong, leading to firm biceps that were muscular, but not bulky. His waist was fairly narrow, his thighs’ musculature similar to the rest of him in that it was obvious he took care of himself, but did not care about mass.
And would that you could actually find the opportunity to see if you could bounce gil off that ass of his…
Get your head out of the gutter for two seconds, girl, you mentally chide yourself, instead focusing on the rosy points of his ears. For someone so decidedly irritable, he is, it is clear he takes care of his appearance quite well. While his hair at first glance looks shaggy, it has the luster that only comes from expensive shampoo. Despite him already having looked like he worked up a sweat prior to his snack break, when he brushed by you you caught a whiff of what must be the remnants of his shower that morning.
“Well if you have no preference for how you have your ass kicked, then who am I to complain?” You snark, snickering as he throws a confident glare over his shoulder in your direction.
“We’ll see about that.”
Reaching the building, you find that it really is about the size of a normal house. When you step in, it certainly has that appearance, and you feel that somehow the meeting has taken on a more personal tone. Leading you down a much smaller hallway, he opens a door and flicks on the light, revealing a home gym that is nearly the size of Zenos’ back at the estate.
“There’s water in that fridge over there,” he murmurs, pointing lazily at the miniature fridge nestled on a counter. “You can change in that bathroom over there.”
Nodding, you go do just that, dropping your gym bag to the floor with a thud. Changing out of your stuffy suit, you wonder if you could’ve just shown up in your workout clothes and if that would’ve been offensive. As you tug your shirt off, your hands brush against the cool necklace that has lied hidden beneath your button down. Though the metal still is cool to the touch, it is also warm from having adjusted to your body heat, making you forget its presence. Reminding yourself to watch your words and mind what you say, you continue to dress.
Stepping out, you look around the gym a little more. It is similar in structure to Zenos’ granted instead of katanas and other sword types being displayed on the wall, you instead see--
“You know how to use a lance?” you blurt out, attracted to the glint of the metal on the opposite wall. Your feet carry you there without thinking, hand reaching out to touch before Estinien grabs your wrist with barely a touch of gentleness.
“Lances. Glaives, spears, and pikes. And they are not for you to touch.” He huffs, eyes hard and serious.
Smirking, you twist from his grip unexpectedly, grabbing his arm and swinging him onto his back on the floor. You pin him with nothing more but your weight, your thighs resting near his strong ones, smirking down at him. “Very well. I’m only good with swords anyway.”
He gives his own smirk, and you yelp as it grows wider as he suddenly jerks the both of you to where you now lie on your back beneath him. “An uneven fight. I believe we are both skilled in hand to hand combat.”
“Do you pin all your house guests?” You tut, giving him an offended look.
“Only those that are incredibly cocky and need to be put in their place.”
Riled up, you break free from his hold, the two of you creating space between your two bodies. He slowly slides into a crouch, arms upraised, guarded, his sneer somehow inflaming you further. “Why the face? Afraid you can’t back up all that talk?” He taunts, feet shuffling across the floor.
“I’ll show you talk--” You dash at him, kicking a leg out for his face. His reflexes are fast; he dodges the first kick easily, so you decide to speed it up. What he doesn’t dodge, he blocks, your legs coming into contact with the hard muscle you so shamelessly ogled earlier. You can see a mote of surprise on his face; he clearly wasn’t expecting you to be this swift. Smirking, you press harder, looking to break his guard.
“I think you might be too used to fighting your charge.” He growls, snatching you by the leg on your next kick. Before you can wrench it out, he’s swung his head underneath, hooking your leg practically around his neck. Standing to his full height, he throws you off balance, leaving him able to take the rest of your weight and flip you over his shoulder and dump you on the floor.
For a moment, you stare up at the ceiling in a daze, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
When was the last time you had been surprised?
You haven’t fought anyone else aside from Zenos. He has been your only opponent for months.
You had grown stale.
You had grown weak.
You had found a challenge.
You giggle for a moment, an emotion you hadn’t felt in so long bubbling up from deep within. Estinien casts you a concerning glance, did I flip her too hard an evident question on his face.
“Oh...you’re right pole boy...it has been a long time.”
“Pole boy…?!” He mumbles angrily, watching as you jerk yourself back up to a standing position in one fluid motion.
Dusting yourself off, you roll your shoulders, clench and unclench your fists. When you look him in the eye, he gasps, seeing a different look entirely coming from you.
“Let’s dance.”
It is refreshing beyond words to have a new opponent, so much so you can't keep a smile off your face. Skilled as you are, within the first hour you've got a good grasp of Estinien's fighting style, able to begin countering him with little difficulty. Despite this, despite Zenos being right he would be hardly a match for you, it has highlighted weak points and blind spots you have missed training solely with Zenos. Where Zenos often uses a mix of bulk and speed to overwhelm his opponent with sheer might, Estinien uses his leaner frame to duck and weave, able to strike you where Zenos would've been too slow. Where Zenos rushes you down, Estinien hangs back, poised like a cobra ready to strike.
"I don't think I've seen anyone smile as much as you have during a bout," The Elezen man comments as he moves to grapple you. You slip out of his grasp but he is quick to recover before you can take advantage and land a hit on him.
"Good opponents are hard to come by." You compliment, circling him as you try to debate your next move.
He lets out a rude snort. "You don't have to spare my feelings. I'm man enough to know when I'm outmatched." His lips pull into a smug grin. "But I will take the compliment anyway."
"You're welcome," you grunt, kicking out at him again, prepared for him to catch your leg. He only blocks it so you swing around to bring up the other in hopes he will be too slow. Just before he can bring his hands up to grab hold of your leg bring it back down. You smirk at the confusion etched on his face, watching it turn to shock as you dip low and sweep his feet from under him the same time you give him a hard shove, letting gravity do the rest. Estinien crashes to the floor and you pounce him like a couerl, making sure to actually pin him in place, your hand fisted in his shirt. "Do you give?"
He looks up at you in a daze for a moment, his chest heaving from exertion. Wonder seems to pass through his eyes, before it morphs into a dark appreciation. "I give."
"Good." you grin, relaxing your hold on him. "I think we've had more than a good workout," you breathe, taking note of how far the hands of the clock on the opposite wall have moved. "This has been most enjoyable, but I don't think I'll over stay,"
Before you can begin to rise, his hands grip your thighs, nearly kneading the muscle there. Your face flames instantly, eyes wide as you stare in shock at the brazen, Elezen man beneath you.
"I hope you wouldn't be opposed to making this a...regular thing." He purrs, voice so low you can feel it vibrate through his chest and therefore through you. Interest stirs low in your belly, pink tongue darting out to swipe over your lips unconsciously.
"Are you so...open with all your guests?" You ask, settling your weight on him further.
"Only the ones that kick my ass." He licks his own lips, not bothering to hide the desire swimming in his eyes. "And that happens to be a very small list." His fingers flex and you wish you could feel what it would be like to have his hands touching your bare skin.
"I see." You murmur, bending over, heart racing as your lips lie just a breath away from his. "Though if what I'm feeling beneath me is any indication for how you're feeling...I'm guessing you want more than just tips on how to not get your ass beat."
He scoffs, giving you a mean look. "Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?"
Before you can retort he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours almost feverishly. It has been so long since you've been kissed like this, where someone so clearly, so unabashedly wants you. You take the lead which seems to startle him for a second as you request entrance into his mouth but he's quick to catch up, your tongues dancing together so well it draws a moan from deep within.
As you part for air, you have to stop your hips from scooting down just that little bit further and grinding down. Usually you would be ashamed; to have more than a peck on the first date so-to-speak was unheard for you. But then again, your other needs had been suppressed for so long…
"Won't your boss find it suspicious if I keep coming over here?" You ask, arching into him as his lips trail down your jawline.
"Hardly. He already expected you would come here often," he trails off, your eyes widening at what he was not saying.
We already knew he would send you to spy on us.
"So come as much as you like." He gives a sharp nip that pulls a surprised squeak that ebbs into a moan as he suckles the skin, leaving a mark. "And if you're willing to give me a chance...I could make you come as much as you'd like too."
"I never took you as one to sleep on the first date," You rasp, unable to keep your hips from grinding down. You shudder atop him, nails digging into his arms.
"Oh rest assured, I am being quite the gentleman right now. I simply find myself unable to resist having my ass kicked by an attractive woman." He purrs, eyes half lidded.
You flush for an entirely different reason now, wondering how long it had been since someone had expressed such blatant affection, how could it be that your enemy--
Wait--
Is he your enemy--
No, no, Varis is, you're here to stop Varis, through Zenos--
Zenos--
He…
"I have to go."
You crawl from atop him, heart twisting as you flee from the building. Stumbling outside, the sun hangs near the top of the sky, giving you nowhere to hide from your shame. Whipping your work phone out you let the chauffeur know you'll be out shortly, thankful that you memorized the path Cid led you down so that you can make it out the house without getting lost in it. One would think you actually did the deed with how fast you book it out of there, feet crashing hard against the driveway as you dash through the open gate and into the tinted car.
The driver looks slightly panicked but you assure him that all is well and make up a lie that you're supposed to have been back to the mansion half an hour ago. He all but floors the gas, peeling away from the Garlond estate and back toward the mansion, your fingers clutching your necklace to your chest.
“You are back later than I expected.” Varis notes as you stalk into his office. Standing by the window, he arches a single brow. He says nothing as you all but slam the necklace down on his desk, doing your best to keep your expression blank and reveal nothing. “How did it go?” he asks as he moves to sit down and finger the necklace between long fingers.
“Isn’t that what the necklace is for?” You snap, wanting nothing more than to shower again for the second time today and crawl in bed.
Thin lips pull into a cruel smirk. “Of course. But that is for someone else to listen to and make sure you have not sold any secrets that would be...problematic for you.” He drawls, playing with the necklace in his hand.
Baring your teeth, you resist the urge to punch him in his stupid face. “I went over there, and I kicked his ass.”
“For three hours?”
“Yes, for three hours.” You sigh, exasperated. He knew you hated him, and clearly was not above dragging this out as long as possible just to irritate you.
At least I can see where Zenos gets it from…
“Interesting.” He muses, holding the emblem between his thumb and forefinger. “And would you like to return?”
It is your turn to arch a brow at him, crossing your arms across your chest. “Would I like to?” you repeat, making sure you heard him correctly. He nods. “I understood it as I did not have a choice in the matter.”
“As I told you before, Garlond is not stupid.” The older man places the necklace upon his desk, threading his fingers together to rest his head upon his hands. “His bodyguard might be nothing but a meatshield, but I doubt he is not competent enough to know how to watch his words if Garlond had debriefed him.” Leaning back, he fixes you with a knowing smirk. “After all, you have nothing of note to report, am I correct?”
“No,” you grumble, wishing you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of being right.
“As I had thought. In which case, if they will be so tight lipped, there is no need to expend the energy or resources of sending you over there. I’ve never been able to understand Garlond’s fondness for the countryside, as that alone makes any wish of visitation dry up like a forgotten well.” He barks out a laugh at the incredulous expression you didn’t even realize you had on your face. “Well if there is nothing else, you are dismissed. I will be sending your outing to some lackey to comb through later.” With a dismissive wave fitting his dismissal of you, he picks up the necklace once more, spinning to face away from you.
You remain shocked for but a few more milliseconds before deciding to take it for what it is and leave.
You didn’t think Varis would let you have any say on whether or not you would return to the Garlond estate, but even he could see to reason that you wouldn’t get anything out of them just by fighting his bodyguard. Thinking about Estinien again makes your lips tingle, about how well he treated you. His lips aside, he really was a decent training partner to help you work out any kinks in your defense, and you could hone his skills as well…
But you still had your commitment to Zenos. Could you really fit in waking up at the crack of dawn to train with him, to spend hours bored at work watching over him, to accompany him as you watch him murderer innocents? You had to, it was your job in more than one way. The Kugane Police were counting on you.
Feeling eyes on you, you glance up, spying cold, blue eyes glancing down at you from a balcony above. No words pass between you, but somehow, seeing him sets your heart racing, racing for so many reasons. What would he think, knowing how you acted over there?
...Why would he care?
Why do you care?
“Oh, Honey...if I wanted you, I would have you.”
Spinning on one heel, you head straight back for Varis’ office. You do not knock as you push the mahogany door open, Varis glancing up from whatever forms he was signing looking fit to chew you out.
“Do you not have manners, savage?”
“I want to continue my visits with Estinien. At the Garlond estate.”
He stares at you in silence, his face relaxing until a dark look overtakes it. Leaning back in his chair, he steeples his fingers together, teeth gleaming along with the traitorous glint in his eye. “Is that so?”
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