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yeosanghwas · 2 years

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all about you | choi san (18+)

overview: after meeting san a year ago in your drag of a calculus class, you became close friends and have found yourselves voluntarily paired up for a history presentation. when you arrive at his apartment to work on the project, things get heated once you both realize you’ve been down bad for each other since you met

***MINORS DNI***

genre: smut, fluffy smut. friends to lovers, mutual pining, college au. honestly this is all just smut with a bit of scene setting at the beginning. but it’s sweet so

word count: 14.3k

author’s note: this is my first time ever writing smut kaksjsjshs i had a lot of fun with it, i hope y’all enjoy! :) again, minors please do NOT interact with this post

content warnings below the cut!

content warnings: virgin reader, service/pleasure soft dom san, unprotected sex (this is fiction, wrap it up), thigh riding, fingering, oral (fem receiving), face sitting, pet names (dollface, darling, sweetheart, etc.), praise, use of ‘good girl’, hair pulling, cum eating (? i guess that’s the best term?). i think that’s pretty much everything?

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It all started a year ago when you unintentionally nodded off during your calculus class. Sure, you weren’t particularly interested in the subject matter, considering you had just taken it as a core requirement, but you also weren’t one to be blatantly disrespectful to your professors. It was just that you had spent the previous night cramming for your biology exam that same morning, which you managed to achieve a B- on, thankfully. Your calculus class unfortunately ran later into the evening than you had liked, and you just weren’t able to hold your eyes open due to the 24 hours of sleep deprivation. Luckily, your professor had been understanding and didn’t reprimand you, especially since you maintained a good grade in the class and stayed on top of your assignments. You just had to get the notes later somehow, since the PowerPoints weren’t posted on the class portal. Easy enough, except… you didn’t actually know anyone in the class well enough to ask for the notes.

At the end of class, you were woken up with a gentle nudge on your shoulder, lifting your head with a groan. Most of the class had left the room by now, so you expected to see your professor in front of you. Instead, you were faced by the prettiest boy you had ever seen looking down at you with kind and tender doe eyes as you oriented yourself. Admittedly, you froze up when you realized just who it was.

You hadn’t known his name at the time, but since the semester began, he had very much been your class crush (and you weren’t usually one to develop crushes easily). There was no assigned seating, but you two always somehow ended up sitting in the same vicinity, funnily enough. The class was sizable, so after a while, it seemed less and less like a coincidence and began to feel deliberate on his part, since he was always the one who came in later. You secretly always crossed your fingers that he would strike up conversation with you, but he never did, disappointingly.

Well, not until that day.

“Hey,” he said, giving an endeared smile in response to your surprised reaction to seeing him. His smile widened as the blush spread across your face, and he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to play it cool and nonchalant. “Have a good nap?” When you gave a dazed nod, rubbing one of your eyes as you attempted to wake up, he chuckled and offered his hand out to you, which you took. After helping you to your feet, he picked up your backpack and held the straps out for you to link your arms through.

As you turned back around to face him, you found yourself too shy and taken aback to speak, and if he hadn’t been so good at hiding it, you would’ve been able to see just how nervous he was as well. Unbeknownst to you, it had taken him weeks to work up the courage to talk to you. San was full of confidence, that much was clear just by taking a simple look at him. You just made his heart flutter in a way that left him unsure of himself – it was undeniable that he had game and could sweep just about anybody off their feet with ease, but he found himself wanting to genuinely impress you and wanting to make a first impression other than the typical playboy persona he was known for. He had practically jumped at the chance to help you when he realized you had clocked out of the class and would need help catching up on the notes later – finally, a legitimate reason to approach you. He could fluster anyone with smooth pickup lines no problem, but he didn’t want your first interaction to be superficial like that.

This situation though? This was perfect.

“You slept through the whole class, you know. You’re gonna need the notes, right? Especially since we have that exam next week,” he mused, secretly working up the courage to initiate the next step of his plan.

“Oh fuck, yeah I guess so…” you said with an exasperated sigh. “Dammit, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. This week has just kicked my ass. And I forgot about this exam because I’ve been so wrapped up in studying for my biology exam all week.”

He shrugged. “Happens to the best of us. I can send you what you missed today. When I realized you were asleep, I made sure to make them more detailed than usual so there wouldn’t be any gaps in the material. Can I give you my number?” As you took a moment to process what he said, he took a step back and awkwardly cleared his throat. “Ah, I forgot. I’m San. An introduction probably would have been a better way to start this conversation out. And you are…?”

Was he nervous as well? Either way, his sudden timidity made you smile, and it was unexpected considering how he carried himself. So, he really was as sweet as he looked. “San,” you repeated out loud. “Y/N. And yeah, I’d really appreciate that.” You took out your phone and he entered his number into your contacts. As you went to send him a message so he had your number as well, you felt a sudden jolt of courage and spoke up again. “Maybe we can study together for the exam?”

Your pretty voice saying his name made him weak in the knees, and your suggestion made his heart leap into his throat. After being kicked out the classroom by your professor, you two had spent a few more minutes chatting in the hallway and making plans to study together. It also turned out you were headed to the same bus stop, which both of you were thrilled about because it gave you a reason to continue talking.

Sure, it was a pretty mundane way of meeting, but it was still special to you both.

It turns out you two just had a sort of natural chemistry. Conversation came easily, as did laughter and mutual teasing. It wasn’t long before you two were texting on a near daily basis, introducing each other to friends, and hanging out outside of academic settings or study sessions. San had gone from being a pure stranger you were secretly crushing on to being one of your favorite parts of facing the day.

As much as you loathed your biology class, maybe it had been good for something after all.

------

Since then, you two made it a point to take one class together each semester. This semester, you were both enrolled in a Modern European history class. Naturally, you sat together every day. On one hand, it was a blessing because you were both very dedicated to your studies and you kept each other accountable for your work throughout the course, studying together, helping each other with assignments, and exchanging notes whenever one of you missed something during the lecture or was having a rough day and couldn’t fully focus on the material.

On the other hand though, it was a bit of a curse because you both ended up secretly distracted by the other, sneaking subtle glances when the other wasn’t looking, whispering jokes back and forth, and the like. Sometimes San would get bolder, playfully snatching something from your desk and teasing you as you tried to get it back without being disruptive. Or, if he was sitting behind you, he would drum his fingers against your back or lean forward and start playing with the ends of your hair absentmindedly, giggling at the way you would tense up in surprise or try to swat his hand away. Looking at the ways you two interacted, it was glaringly obvious to anyone observing that you were into each other.

Yet, neither of you ever made a move out of fear that maybe you were reading the situation wrong. (Spoiler alert: You weren’t).

When your professor announced a partner presentation last week, you had cursed under your breath. Nobody liked group projects, especially when you couldn’t choose your groupmates. Come to think of it, every group presentation you’d given had been with randomized partners. Sure, they had all gone fine, but it was still a pain in the ass every time.

This time though, you were in luck. Since the class was rather small and discussion-based, all the students were on a first name basis with each other. You had been given the option to choose your own partner, as well as free reign over choosing a presentation topic. You and San had immediately looked over at each other, exchanging knowing smiles in a silent agreement to work together.

That’s how you found yourself at San’s apartment tonight. You had to present to the class tomorrow, so he had invited you over to his place to practice. He had suggested setting up in his room, since you were so comfortable with each other and spent a considerable amount of time hanging out in there anyways when you came over (which was an ever increasingly common occurrence as time went on). Plus, he had a roommate, so the common area may not have been the ideal place due to potential distractions and lack of privacy.

Wait, privacy? What were you worried about privacy for? You were just friends working on a project for class. Surely it wouldn’t have made a difference if San’s roommate was in the living room with you two, so why had you been put off by that idea? And why had San also been insistent on going to his room as well? You tried to convince yourself that you were overthinking it and that you had just settled on his room because Wooyoung had a tendency to get loud and unintentionally distract others from what they were trying to focus on with his overflowing energy. That’s what it was, yeah. For sure.

Right?

Initially, you had gone to sit on the floor like you were accustomed to, but San had spoken up and encouraged you to sit on the bed so you would “be more comfortable” and so he could “see your laptop screen more easily.” At first you tried to protest by inviting him to come sit on the floor next to you because you reaaaaaally did not want to get up, but he had given you those puppy dog eyes that tugged at your heartstrings every time and you caved.

You situated yourself so that you were sitting on the edge of his bed with your legs dangling over the side, your computer in your lap as you skimmed over the grading rubric and presentation requirements. “So, we’ve already finished the paper. Now we just have to draw up the PowerPoint slides and rehearse our parts. Easy enough.” San sat beside you in the same pose, legs hanging over the side as well, and he gave a silent nod in reply, listening as you murmured to yourself about what approach you two should take for the presentation layout. As he watched your facial expressions shift in concentration, all he could think was damn, you were so cute when you were invested in something like this. If you had been looking at him, you would have easily caught him gazing at you in infatuated wonder.

Honestly, you got so caught up in your train of thought that you kind of forgot he was there – you just really wanted a good grade on this, okay? You’d give him your attention back once you were done formulating a plan. Heaven knows he wouldn’t let you go that long ignoring him. He could be a little needy, but you were so fond of him that it was endearing to you just how much he vied for your attention, often pulling silly antics or letting out deep, exaggerated sighs to redirect your focus to him. Now that you thought about it… he really seemed to thrive off of your attention specifically, moreso than anyone else you consistently saw him around. Had that always been the case? Did his face light up like that around anyone else?

Before you got too caught up in your current confusing thoughts about San (he was sitting right next to you for God’s sake, now was not the time), you forced yourself to snap back to reality. You weren’t quite sure how long ago it had happened, but the space between you and San had closed. He had shifted closer to you on the bed, and you tried to suppress your blush now that you were sitting thigh-to-thigh. You took a breath and tried to turn your attention back to your laptop. I’m here for the project, I’m here for the project, you thought to yourself as you tried to get back on track. “So, I was thinking that we could – “

“Mmm?” San mused curiously, scanning your face with a small smirk. He was seemingly indicating that he was listening, but it was clear that the project was the absolute last thing on his mind. As he inched even closer to you so that your thighs were now firmly pressed together, you diverted your gaze, but not before you saw the lustful glimmer in his eyes. There was no hiding how flustered you were, and your mind had gone blank at this point.

“What’s that, doll?” he asked, hovering his face above your shoulder to “look” at the laptop screen. Your brain practically short-circuited when he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, gently splaying his fingers over your lower abdomen. You shivered at the contact.

“San, what are you – “

“I see the way you look at me, you know,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. “I’ve noticed for a long time now. The tension has been killing me, Y/N. I know you know what I’m talking about. I know we’re friends, but you can’t deny that it’s always in the background.”

You practically had a freeze-frame moment once you processed what he had said. “San are you trying to tell me that – “

“I want you, Y/N. I always have, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t. Do you want me?”

Your thoughts were racing a mile a minute. There’s no way this could be happening. You tensed up from the surprise, to which San responded by immediately taking his hands off you and leaning away. “Is this okay? I won’t go any further if – I won’t keep it up if you aren’t comfortable with this.” His voice turned serious. He respected your boundaries and at the end of the day, you really were friends, and really good ones at that. He wasn’t about to continue if it wasn’t reciprocated. Losing you would be devastating.

Even if he had the whole “playboy” act going on, he only had eyes for you. That was what it all boiled down to. It was time to at least let you know.

You turned your head to look at him, and you saw that his gaze had shifted from lustful to concerned and even… bashful? Was he getting embarrassed? You unintentionally let out a chuckle at the thought of the Choi San getting shy and flustered, and by you, nonetheless. It was strange seeing someone who was usually so boastfully confident be unsure and timid like this. He wasn’t just coming onto you for a quick fuck – he was asking for confirmation of something deeper. “I’m sorry, that was too much, dammit I always fuck these things up. It’s just that I’m really, really into you. Like, seriously into you. I like you a lot and I didn’t know how to go about it. Ugh I always do this. I get too confident and – “

“I like you too, San.”

His jaw dropped. “Wait, you what?”

“I’ve always liked you, silly,” you said with a laugh, reaching out to rest your hand on top of his. “I just didn’t know how to say it. I’ve thought you were the hottest person I’ve ever laid eyes on from the day I met you. I’m just not into hookups, and I genuinely wanted to befriend you first and foremost. I mean, how could I NOT like you? You’re sweet, charming, funny, and insanely talented. You’re a literal ray of sunshine. You’re the entire package and then some.”

The way he perked up immediately reminded you of a cute puppy – he was so endearing. He was absolutely beaming at your words, dimples on full display. Oh, so he liked being praised. Noted.

“God, Y/N, you know just what to say to get me worked up.” His voice was a low rumble, which you found ridiculously hot. “Hearing you say that… Christ, I want you so bad.”

“Then take me,” you said, somewhat quietly but also confident and firm in your assertion.

It took everything he had not to just pounce and completely devour you when those words fell from your lips. He bit his own to stifle a groan. Not yet. Not yet – there was something he had to do first. He reached out and gently tucked your hair behind your ear, studying your face as if to remember every crevice, every pore, every color hidden within your half-lidded eyes. Even though you were still fully clothed, you felt bare and vulnerable under his loving gaze. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against your own. You were so close that your noses brushed against each other.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hi,” you breathed in response, eyes flickering down to his lips and waiting patiently for his next move. He grinned, closing the space between the two of you and capturing your lips in a surprisingly chaste and tender kiss. It was such an innocent gesture, and a fitting one considering this was technically your first kiss. He wanted it to be at least relatively special, considering the things he wanted to do to you after. Meanwhile, you felt like you were on cloud nine from the kiss alone. Everything about him was intoxicating, and while you savored and appreciated this sweet moment, you were soon filled with the burning desire for him to absolutely ruin you.

Having had your fill of sweetness and being satisfied with your first kiss, you decided to test the waters with an experimental tug on his bottom lip. This elicited a soft whimper from him, which pleased you. Your thoughts began to drift, and you found yourself worked up over the idea of making him moan like a girl. If his voice and demeanor were of any indication, you were sure he would sound breathtakingly beautiful.

But something told you that he was going to be the one wrecking you tonight. Not the other way around.

He returned the kiss with the same fervor, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip to ask for entry. You eagerly granted it, and before you knew it, your tongues were tangling together in a heated, passionate dance. Damn, he was good at this. When he pulled away, you let out a distressed whine, but he raised a finger to his lips and smiled coyly, giving you a wink. “Shhhhh, patience, darling. Patience.” With that, he quickly grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap, your back to his chest. He situated you so that you were straddling one of his muscular thighs, resting his hands on your hips. “Ride, sweet thing,” he whispered in your ear.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You began to move your hips experimentally, adjusting to the sensation. It didn’t take you long to settle into a steady rhythm, rocking your hips back and forth almost embarrassingly quickly. You couldn’t help it - the friction from both his thigh and the jeans you had on was delicious and the fact that this was happening with San of all people spurred you on even more and you could feel your underwear growing wetter as you desperately rutted against his leg like a bitch in heat. As he used his hands to help further guide your hips, you noticed his fingers had dug in so forcefully that you were sure they were leaving bruises in their wake.

His breathing had quickened a bit. He would have been practically humming in delight if he didn’t have other plans in mind. Reaching up, he tangled a hand in your hair, getting a firm grip and gently tugging your head back so you were looking at him with your head leaned back over his shoulder. “Such a desperate little thing… look at you, getting off on just my thigh…” He clicked his tongue before tugging again, adjusting your head once more so that you were forced to make direct eye contact with him. “I want you to look me in the eyes while you ride, darling.”

With that, he flexed the muscles in his thigh underneath you and you couldn’t suppress the gasp it drew from you. You mustered up every bit of willpower you had to maintain eye contact with him, and surprisingly it wasn’t awkward. It was hot as fuck and you were slowly becoming addicted to the expression on his face - lidded eyes staring you down with a gleam in them that could only be described as that of a predator circling its prey, lip curled up into a teasing smirk. He was toying with you and for some reason you wanted him to keep it up. Your mind was becoming hazy as you felt a familiar sensation building up in your belly. “San I’m gonna — “

“Aww, so soon? Well, that was fast. Cum for me, baby,” he cooed into your ear, tilting your head again so he had better access to your jawline, his other hand on your hip digging in even deeper (if that was physically possible). As you quickened your pace, you began to let out needy whimpers and whines, grinding hard against him to try and increase the friction against your clothed pussy. He had started lightly kissing and nipping along your jawline, eliciting a particularly long and high-pitched whine from you. “So noisy… I can’t wait to hear more of those beautiful sounds… don’t hold it in, doll. I want to hear everything. You can be a good girl for me, can’t you?”

You had barely heard his question as you chased your high, making less of an effort to suppress the noises you were making, but you were still feeling shy. He let out a breathy laugh against your jaw as he listened to the sounds you allowed to freely spill from your lips. San internally took that as a challenge – you may still be feeling shy, but by the end of the night, he was determined to have you howling his name.

And Choi San always got what he wanted.

Your hips stuttered as you increased your pace, your breathing labored. San could tell that you were close, and he was oh-so-willing to assist you. You just had to pass a little test first…

“Baby, I asked you a question. I said you can be a good girl for me, can’t you?”

You nodded eagerly, almost embarrassingly so, but that still wasn’t enough for him. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Y-yes, San. Want to be your good girl. Want to listen to everything you say, want to be good for you…” you stammered, barely able to get the words out coherently.

For now, that was enough for him. In return, he rewarded you by flexing his thigh again, harder this time, and he used his grip on your hips to pull you down harder on his leg. You choked out a soft cry of his name as you came, already feeling spent. He worked you through it, slowing the pace and easing his grasp on your hips, but still carefully guiding your movements while he whispered sweet praise into your ear. As you came down from your high, you slumped back against his chest, savoring the warm and ironically fluffy feeling that bubbled up in you post-orgasm. You wanted to be close to him, to feel him, to be encompassed by him –

No, not just encompassed.

Devoured.

You groaned at the thoughts that were flooding your mind, and he perked up at the noise. He coyly trailed his hands from your hips up to your abdomen from behind, teasingly brushing his fingers over your belly again before moving even higher. His lithe hands began to grope at your chest, gently as to test the waters. When you keened at his touch, turning to bury your face in his neck, he felt a jolt of self-satisfaction.

Next thing you knew, he had swept you up and laid you down on the bed on your back. As he began to lean down to start crawling to hover over you, you snapped back to your senses and abruptly said “San, wait.”

He froze immediately, sitting up and resting on his knees. “What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable? We can stop right here if you want,” he said with a hint of panic in his voice.

“No! No, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. It’s just that… I’m a virgin, and I don’t know if I’ll be… good for you.” You averted your eyes, somewhat embarrassed to have admitted that.

He seemed taken aback by your statement, and frankly he was confused. You were so fucking stunning, so graceful in everything you did, so completely and utterly charming. He knew good and damn well that it wasn’t because nobody had ever shown interest in you. Rather, he was positive it was because you had turned them all down. Had you been saving it for someone… special? That would make sense, since he was fairly well aware of how high your standards were from previous conversations or passing comments you would make. The thought that he would possibly be the first one to meet those standards and lay claim to you made his heart soar (and perhaps contributed to his ego a liiiiiiittle bit, but who’s measuring?).

“No, doll, tonight is all about you. Trust me, I’m more than enjoying myself already. I live to please. And tonight, you’re all mine to corrupt, you pure little thing.” He practically purred the words out as he stared at you seductively, eyes blazing with lust and need. “Nothing gets me off more than the thought of you pleasuring yourself, the thoughts of your hand between your legs and your head thrown back with your hair cascading down your neck, your mouth hanging open as you cum again, and again, and again… and that’s exactly what I plan to do with you, make you cum over and over to where you’re not going to be able to walk in the morning, princess. I’m here to please you. Tell me how you want it.”

You grinned mischievously. “So you’ve gotten off to the thought of me before, huh?” you asked mischievously. “What if I told you I’ve done the same thing with you? What would you do then?” Your hands delicately traced patterns over his toned arms as you spoke.

San damn near choked. You could see it on his face. His shocked expression was taken back over almost quicker than it had appeared, a seductive yet cocky smirk taking its place. The way he could just switch up like that had always gone straight to your pussy when you saw it happen, honestly. “Are you sure you want to find out the answer to that?”

Your eyes snapped up to meet his. Eye contact. He loved eye contact, and you found yourself feeling confident enough to initiate it this time. “Positive. Make me yours. Show me what to do. I’ll tell you if I get uncomfortable or want to stop.”

“All you need to do is lay back and relax, baby girl. I’m working to please you, not the other way around. Getting you off gets me off. You don’t need to worry about catering to me tonight.” He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, his tone was soft and full of tenderness. “Just let me take the lead, okay? I’ll make damn sure you enjoy yourself. Just go with it. I’ll take care of you. You’re safe with me.”

He took the words out of your mouth. You were safe with him. Even if he was unpredictable at times, you still liked to think you knew him pretty well after being friends for the last year. If you didn’t trust him, you would never have put yourself in tonight’s position in the first place. You wouldn’t have accepted his invitation to his apartment for the project, much less agreed to work on it in his bedroom of all places. Everything about him was just warm and inviting, and every time he would throw feelers out to try and gauge how you felt about him, you were left wishing for more. You were done for after he hugged you goodbye for the first time early on in your friendship, hooked on the feeling of his steady embrace. For so long, it had just been a matter of when one of you would eventually cave first.

You were doomed from the start to fall for him, and he had always had every intention of catching you.

As he leaned in and closed the gap between you two, you turned your head to the side to give him easier access to your neck. “So fucking beautiful…” He took a moment to compose himself before his lips began their assault, starting with feather-light kisses along your jawline. He moved lower, sucking and nipping at your neck, gradually picking up the pace and intensity. You whimpered as he left blooming mark after mark on your skin, and you knew that there would be no hiding them. In the moment, though, you didn’t care because damn, it felt so good. He came behind each mark with soft soothing licks before moving onto creating the next one. In the moment, he was an artist, and you were his canvas.

His hands wandered down to the hem of your shirt, slipping under and ghosting against the flesh of your hips. “Can I…?” You gave him a firm nod and with that, he helped you raise your torso and slipped your shirt over your head in one swift motion.

The sight of your breasts unobstructed by clothing made him groan as he picked up where he left off, leaning down to suck on the supple flesh of the top of your breast and peppering kisses on the love bites he left. Before he had the chance to ask, you sat up a bit to unhook your bra and toss it to the side, your bare chest on full display. With an enticed gleam in his eyes, his lips encased your nipple, delicately sucking and his tongue encircling the tip. “Mhm,” you whined, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck. He smiled against your skin, bringing his free hand up to squeeze your other breast, his fingers mimicking the swirling motions of his tongue against your other nipple.

After a while of alternating his mouth between each breast to get you even more riled up, he settled on suckling your right nipple and he slipped a hand lower between your thighs, fingers ghosting over your clothed heat. He tugged a bit at your waistband, his confidence faltering a bit as he asked, “Can I?” yet again.

“Yeah… please…”

With that, he unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans, eagerly tugging them down and off your legs, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable save for your underwear. As he traced the waistline of your underwear with his finger, clearly preparing to discard of them as well, you spoke up. “Wait. You too, San. I don’t want to be the only one undressed here.” You had never seen him shirtless before, disappointingly enough, so you’d be damned if you were going to potentially miss this opportunity to do just that. You pawed at the hem of his t-shirt, desperate to see just what he was hiding under there.

He chuckled. “Baby’s curious about my body, hm? Cute. I’ll try not to fall short of your expectations.” With that, he reached up and pulled his shirt off over his head effortlessly, running his fingers through his fluffy hair and shaking it out once he was free from the confines of the fabric. His hair flips always had you weak in the knees, and he clearly knew that because of how often he did it around you. He had always capitalized on that, and this time was no different judging from the smug look on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up as your gaze traveled lower to his well-defined abs. He was slim and lithe, and he wasn’t the most muscular person, sure, but he was toned and perfectly sculpted (or at least as close to perfectly sculpted as a human being could be). You knew he took pride in his physique but… God damn, finally seeing it on full display was a whole different story.

He was stunning, to say the least.

“See something you like?” he teased, raising one eyebrow as he waited for an answer. No verbal answer came though, as something else had caught your attention – the growing bulge in his pants. “San, let me – “

“Absolutely not,” he interrupted with a firm shake of his head and a jokingly scolding click of his tongue.

“But I want to help you and – “

“Shhhhh, angel. I’m busy here. It’s rude to interrupt someone who’s in the middle of something important,” he cooed as he leaned to hover over your body, removing the last offending piece of fabric from your body with ease. His eyes scanned your bare form hungrily, his tongue emerging slightly and wetting his lips. Oh, he was going to have a field day with you and your breathtaking form. He hushed you again as you tried to protest once more. “I can’t have you distracting me…” he chided, snaking his hand between your legs and delicately tracing his fingers between your folds. Dipping lower, he found that you were already soaked, despite the two of you not having gone very far yet. He hummed in satisfaction as he gathered some of your juices on his index finger and teasingly circled your clit. Unsurprisingly, he knew exactly where it was, and he gave you a devilish grin when you squirmed at the initial contact. Cheeky bastard.

When your breath hitched, he added more pressure, expertly tracing various patterns over your clit. His middle finger prodded at your entrance before slowly sinking in, and you gasped at the sudden fullness as his finger pumped in and out of you. When you positively responded, he added his ring finger, and you bit your lip at the stretch. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but the pain quickly subsided into pleasure as he slowly spread his fingers in a scissoring motion. You moaned at the sensation, the pitch of your voice heightening as he continued to work you open.

Your jaw went slack as he curled his fingers and he groaned at your expression. “Beautiful… stunning… you’re fucking perfect, Y/N. Such a good girl… so obedient and eager to take whatever I give you. Fuck, I just want to be the reason you see stars and can’t walk without your legs giving out… You know I can give that to you. I can give it to you better than anyone else – they could never come close. Are you still with me, princess?” He was checking in with you, making sure you were still okay with the direction things were going.

You gave a fierce nod without even thinking about it, and in the midst of the pleasure flooding through you from his motions, you unintentionally let the unspoken words in your mind flow freely from your lips. “Yes, daddy, please. Please give it to me, I’ll be good. Want you to show me that nobody else could compare to you… want you to ruin me.” San physically tensed up at the new title, processing it for a moment before letting out a deep, throaty growl and burying his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent to ground himself before he went feral in response to your begging. He had to control himself tonight – he wanted to control himself tonight, so that it was as special for you as possible.

Your hands were gripping his shoulders, and you were just barely managing to not dig your nails into his skin. He could sense your hesitancy. “Go ahead babe, mark me up,” he groaned, the thought of the sensation alone sending shivers down his spine. You didn’t need any further encouraging before letting your nails sink in and drag along his back. He growled in response, taking in the sensation of your nails raking up and down his back, leaving red scratches in their wake. God, he loved being marked up, having reminders the following day. Because they were from you, he would wear them proudly, show them off even. Especially if the two of you were together. It was just different with you, the first person who’s ever truly held his heart in their hands. Was that his possessive streak coming out? Maybe. Was he going to try and hide it? Absolutely not. He wanted everyone to know.

Between the overwhelming sensations of his biting and sucking on your neck, sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and his hand between your legs working you expertly, you were soon on the verge yet again. You shuddered as that familiar knot crept up on you once more, your body tensing up and your core pulsating as your orgasm built up and threatened to overtake you. He moaned at the feeling, unlatching his lips from your throat to glance down at your heat and take in the sight of you clenching around his slender fingers. After looking on in awe for a moment, he turned to glue his gaze to your face, grinning feverishly as he watched your features contort in pleasure from the stimulation he was giving you. Never taking his eyes away from yours, he picked up his pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you faster and increasing the speed of his assault on your clit. You came again, gripping the sheets in your fist and choking back a sob as you gushed all over his fingers. He worked you through it, albeit slowing down as to not overwhelm you too much (yet, at least). You were a complete mess of pathetic mewls and whines, and he was loving every moment of it.

The expression on his face was absolutely sinful, his breathing slowly devolving into heated panting the further the two of you went. Part of you wondered how he could possibly be getting so worked up and enjoying himself this much despite you not having even really touched him in return. It was honestly hot how desperate he was to please you. You let out a sigh as the last waves of your orgasm rippled through you.

He finally pulled away from you, sitting up on his knees between your legs. He curiously brought his fingers, coated in your juices, up to his lips lazily, pausing for a moment before finally speaking. “I wonder if you taste as good as I’ve imagined ever since I met you…” His tone was low, sultry, seductive, and his eyes were half-lidded and dark with pure desire as he proceeded to suck his fingers clean. He maintained direct eye contact with you, making sure you saw every tantalizingly slow swipe of his tongue, saw every slight purse of his lips as they enclosed around his fingertips, heard every exaggerated pop and suck. Once he was done, he tilted his head in feigned silent contemplation, which made you a little antsy as you waited for him to finally break the quiet tension in the air.

Before you even had the chance to open your mouth to prompt him to talk, he had flipped the two of you so that he was on his back, his hair fanned out a bit where his head met the pillow. You were straddling his torso and he delicately traced his hands up and down your sides, the ghosting sensation of his fingers sending a shiver down your spine. His touch was electric to you, threatening to ignite an even bigger flame of pure lust and desire in you at any moment, if that was even possible considering he had already made you cum twice. Every nerve in your body was alight with need, with want, and you let out an involuntary whimper.

“Fuck, babe, you taste so sweet…” He threw his head back against the pillow, the corners of his mouth creeping upwards into a satisfied, serene smile. His voice was soft and airy, and he let out a heavenly sound that was somewhere between a beautiful breathy sigh and a needy high-pitched whimper, which was in sharp contrast to the grunts and growls you had heard thus far. You were dying to hear more.

“So delicious, and all for me. Isn’t that right?” he continued, trying to coax an answer out of you.

You nodded bashfully, mumbling something akin to “All for you” under your breath, but San evidently couldn’t make out what you said. Either that, or he wanted you to say it loud and clear for his own pride.

“Words, sweetheart. Tell me, who is all this sweetness for?” he purred, reaching a hand up to cradle your face in his palm, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone.

“You, daddy. It’s all for you. Everything’s for you, only you. Nobody else.” Your voice was a little strained since you were still recovering from your previous orgasms and were thus relatively spent, but San keenly drank up every word that left your lips. Letting out a rumbly groan, he gently brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, taking a few seconds to simply admire your beauty.

“Let me get another taste of you, yeah? Properly this time. I want to savor you. Let me take care of you, doll - I think I’ve proven I’m more than capable of treating you right already… What do you say?”

When you gave his shoulders a squeeze of confirmation that he had the green light, he cocked his head to the side as he waited to ensure you had no plans to take initiative. When you did no such thing, instead waiting on him to move first due to how dazed you were, he looked at you expectantly and with a playful glint in his eyes. “Sit on my face.”

“What? I — Wouldn’t that hurt you or —" You couldn’t even finish your thought before he was bringing a finger up to your lips and shushing you like he did earlier.

“You heard me, baby. It’s fine, I promise. You won’t hurt me. You probably can’t hurt me at all… unless you really try hard enough, and in other ways that we can get to later…” he trailed off, sticking his tongue in his cheek with a smirk. Okay, so he was a bit of a masochist. You would certainly be storing that information away for future use.

When you still didn’t move, he took the liberty to guide you himself, helping situate you to where you were propping yourself up against the headboard with your hands, bare core hovering above his face on full display. “Fucking beautiful…” he murmured, tracing between your folds with his finger. “You’re so wet… is this all for me, princess?” Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment and you gave a slight nod, words escaping you. He gave you a moment to gain your balance before wrapping his arms around your thighs and guiding you downward, his tongue flicking against you experimentally. You shuddered at the contact, biting your lip only to find yourself shuddering again when he lightly blew against you, the brief chill only contributing to how worked up you were. He followed it up with a gentle kiss to your clit before he dove in.

It started out slow and sensual and God, his tongue worked wonders, a thousand times better than you could have ever imagined. You were a little ashamed to admit that you had wondered for so long just what it was actually capable of, since he had a habit of keeping it almost anywhere except for in his mouth. Your mind was foggy in the best way from the pleasure than San was relentlessly showering you with, and it was hard to form coherent thoughts at this point, but one barreled its way to the forefront of your head: he’d better keep that damn tongue put away after tonight. You were a little alarmed at the sudden surge of… jealousy that flooded through you at the idea of others getting a taste of his flirtatious nature, a glimpse of his tongue teasingly slipping out his mouth when he was feeling particularly bold or cocky in social settings. No, all of that was for you now. Only you. Perhaps you’d just have to reciprocate his earlier actions and give him some matching love bites that would send your intended message to anyone who started to get the wrong idea… Your heart fluttered at the notion of laying claim to him in the same way he laid claim to you, with dark, blossoming marks that would be impossible to hide… You would later. Definitely later.

Before you had too much time to get worked up over these thoughts racing through your head, you were jerked out of your thoughts by a pulse of ecstasy that elicited a long drawn-out whine from you.

“So sweet…” He alternated between gentle suckling at your clit and plunging his tongue into your entrance, lapping up every bit of wetness he could. What had started off light as a way to ease you into things quickly devolved into him eating you out like a man starved, lewd squelching sounds filling the room – not that you were complaining. You mewled as he focused his attention underneath the hood of your clit, angling his tongue in ways that made you see stars from the near overstimulation.

He briefly paused so he could kiss the inside of your thigh, daring to nip and suck so that a deep red mark was left in his wake. Then you squeaked as he pulled you down further – not that you could do much about it because you were finding yourself becoming unable to support your own weight with your arms at this point. “Cute,” he said in response to the sound, but you were naturally almost unable to hear his muffled voice. The feeling of your near-full weight on him spurred him on even more as he became bolder with his strokes and licks.

You shuddered as he let out a low “Mhmm” of delight against you, the vibrations only serving to increase the pure pleasure you were feeling. He was clearly enjoying every moment of this, his eyes shut in concentration as his tongue continued to work its magic. “Come on baby, grind.” His voice was louder this time, and who were you to deny him what he wanted? You began to rock your hips, grinding down onto his face as his mouth continued its ministrations. The added friction had you keening.

You watched as San unhooked one of his arms from your thigh and took your hand in his, guiding it up to his hair. You took this as an invitation to lace your fingers in it, giving a slight pull to test the waters. When he groaned in contentment and managed to get out the word “Harder” against you, you decided to take a little initiative. You complied, using your new grip to occasionally help guide his head in the directions you wanted him to pay attention to, your newfound sensitivity making the experience all the better. Ever one to please, he excitedly followed your lead, his tongue hitting all the right places and his nose occasionally hitting up against your swollen bundle of nerves. You instinctively brought your free hand up to your chest, squeezing the plushy flesh and tracing your fingers over your nipples as you chased your high. He ate you out relentlessly, messily but still with expert precision.

He moaned with every pull of his hair, and it wasn’t long before he was reaching down to undo the zipper on his own pants, wriggling them down until his cock sprung free. He gave his hard shaft some cautious pumps before settling into a steady rhythm, bucking his hips up repeatedly as he listened to every sound you made. He was determined to make you both cum at the same time, quickening his assault on your pussy until you felt the familiar tight sensation that came along with being close to the edge. With a final suck on your clit, you came undone, gasping and panting as he worked you through it with his mouth, hellbent on not letting a single drop of your release go to waste. He came a few moments after with a deep grunt, spilling onto his abdomen and you felt him physically relax underneath you as he pressed soft kisses against your skin before helping you lift yourself up. You collapsed on your back next to him, reveling in the sense of euphoria that washed over you.

After taking a moment to recover from his own high, he shifted and propped himself up on one arm beside you to gaze at your blissed-out face and the love bites that littered your neck and chest. You looked angelic this way, cheeks flushed and hair fanned out like a halo on the pillows beneath you. “You did so good,” he praised, reaching over to rub reassuring circles up and down your side. “So, so good for me. You look so beautiful like this… I never thought it would be possible for you to be even more gorgeous, baby girl.” He softly gripped your chin, turning your head so you were looking directly at him. He gazed at you adoringly for a few moments before leaning in to shower your face in chaste kisses – first on your cheekbones, then your temples, forehead, fluttering eyelids, the corners of your mouth… you chuckled at the tickle from his lips and he laughed in response before going in for a peck on your lips, sighing against them. “Everything about you is so perfect… I can’t believe I’m this lucky. This feels like a dream.”

He really had a way of making you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. To him, you were. He was just stating the obvious as far as he was concerned.

“Do you think you’re ready?” he murmured after giving you a little more time to come down and recover. It wasn’t until you glanced down that you realized just how big he actually was. It was a little intimidating if you were being honest. Somehow, he was already hard again. Damn, this man had stamina.

“Are… are you going to fit?” you asked hesitantly. You really didn’t know what to expect, but you trusted that he would ensure you were taken care of.

“Don’t even worry about that,” he replied with a smile. “It will. I just wanted to make sure you were ready first. We can stop here if you want. I just want to make you happy.”

Your heart swelled at his words. You had never expected to be with a man who was so attentive to your needs and so accommodating to your wishes. He wasn’t kidding when he said he lived to please. Anything you were okay with was fine by him.

“No, I’m ready,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand in yours. “Take me, San. Make me yours.”

He pressed another chaste kiss to your lips before moving to hover over you, caging your head between his hands on the mattress. “Just let me lead,” he said as he lined up with your entrance. Rather than going in for it right away, he elected to rub his length along your folds to gather some of your leaking juices on his dick to try and make the process even just a bit more comfortable for you even though you were soaked with arousal already. He also took this as an opportunity to brush against your swollen, puffy clit, alternating between bumping into it with his tip and teasingly dragging the underside of his length along it.

The friction had you writhing, both from the pleasureful satisfaction, but also from impatience and agitation. You knew he was just trying to ensure you were prepped so your first time wouldn’t be painful, and under most circumstances you would have appreciated that. Right now, however, you were overwhelmed with the carnal desire to be filled, stuffed and fucked senseless.

“San, stop teasing and just fuck me already,” you said bluntly, biting your lip to suppress another moan when he hit against your clit at just the right angle to make your vision flash white for a moment.

He stilled immediately at your words, but he didn’t say anything in response. You were getting antsy and were about to throw all your shame out the window and just start begging, but then you caught a glimpse of his face. He was staring down at you, looking on at you in a way that you had only seen in movies or had ever read described in books. His eyes sparkled as he took in the breathtaking view of you underneath him, and he was gazing at you in a way that would make one think you put the stars in the sky. His eyes were always rich and soulful, but this was entirely different. The way he was looking at you would be enough to convince anyone that he was completely, madly, passionately devoted to you, that your souls had been by each other’s sides for centuries, finding each other again and again in every life that the two of you were born into.

There was no primal lust, no objectifying self-satisfaction, no nefarious intent behind his eyes. There were simply the desires to commit this serene moment to memory, to make pure and tender love to you. To make you feel so loved and beautiful that you forgot every tear you’d ever shed, to quell every insecurity you could possibly possess, and to ensure that, if nobody else had shown it to you before, you felt entirely wanted and treasured with full confidence and zero room for doubts or hesitation.

It was as if time stood still – right now, it was just the two of you, locked away in your own private world of intimacy and adoration.

“Why… why are you looking at me like that?” you murmured, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable under his gaze.

“I don’t just want to fuck you, Y/N. That was never my intention. Anyone could do that.”

“Then… what do you want to do, exactly?” you inquired, a little unsure of where he was going with this.

“I don’t want to fuck you. I want to make love to you.” His tone was firm and sincere as he reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face. You froze at his confession, a little taken aback but not in an unpleasant way. The way his demeanor had changed had your heart doing flips. “I want to make it clear how I feel about you…” His voice trailed off as he softly prodded your entrance with his fingers, slipping the tips of his index and middle fingers inside, feeling how wet you were and confirming his preparations had been successful enough by fanning his fingers out in the same scissoring motion from earlier. “I know we’ve moved fast so far, but now that you’re ready… I want to take my time with you. Is that okay?”

You looked at him dumbfounded for a moment, processing his words. When what he was trying to convey finally sunk in for you, you found yourself trying to blink away tears that were forming in your eyes. “Are you really this serious about me?”

You half expected him to turn his face away from you out of embarrassment, but he held eye contact with you. He was never one to be able to hide how he felt, and even if he tried, his eyes would always give it away. This time was no different - you saw no hint of uncertainty or deceit, only unadulterated affection and sincerity. In response to your question, he confidently nodded, leaning down to place a loving kiss on your cheek. “More serious than I’ve ever been about anything in my life.”

“Then show me,” you whispered, pressing your lips against his. This seemed to be all the goading he needed because he immediately reached for your hands, which had been laying on either side of your head. He intertwined his fingers with yours so you were now pinned down to the bed with his arms caging you in.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” he said softly as he began to sink the head of his cock into your heat. He went slow, monitoring your face for signs of discomfort. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the new sensation of being stretched open like this. You scrunched your eyes up at the intrusion, but after the initial twinge of pain subsided, you squeezed his hands to urge him to keep going. When he felt your body relax, he continued, still taking it slow as he pushed into you inch by inch. You had expected more pain from your first time, but you were met with much less than you had anticipated. The stretch was foreign, and it burned - but it burned so good that you wanted more. He was going almost excruciatingly slow, and understandably since he knew it was your first time. He was taking such care with you, as if you were made of thin glass and he was afraid to shatter you.

He bottomed out with a soft, breathy whimper, stilling and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Are you still with me, darling?”

You nodded. “Yeah… I am,” you whispered back.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt. You can move, San.”

He kept his eyes on your face still as he started to move, testing the waters with a few slow thrusts. It was admittedly a foreign and initially uncomfortable feeling, but San had more than succeeded in preparing you with your previous three orgasms. The pain you had expected never came, so you allowed yourself to let go and relax even further. It didn’t take him long to adopt a smooth and languid pace, rolling his hips against you fluidly as opposed to quick snapping motions. This man knew how to control his hips, and you were totally lost in each thrust, focused entirely on the way he glided in and out of you with ease. You felt so perfectly full that you became disappointed at the idea of being empty once more every time he nearly slid out, only to sink deeply into you yet again.

“I won’t break, you know,” you teased, breath hitching unexpectedly as San began to thrust into you with a bit more force at your words. He grinned at the way you jumped a bit in surprise.

“Y/N, you’re so tight,” he hissed through his teeth. “God, you feel so good around me. You look so beautiful taking me like this.” He squeezed your hands, still interlocked in his, showering your face with delicate kisses. “My good girl… you’re doing so well.”

His gaze drifted away from your face, downward between your bodies. His jaw tensed and he visibly swallowed as he stared intently at where you two connected, and you felt his dick twitch inside of you as he drank in the sight. He was clearly holding back a sound, but you were determined to draw it out of him, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him impossibly closer to you. You deliberately clenched around him in the process, and you were delighted to hear the pathetic high-pitched mewl that you forced out of him.

You smirked. Talk about moaning like a girl. Mission accomplished.

He leaned down to latch his mouth to your neck again, but you intercepted, attaching your lips to his throat instead. If you had visible marks showing that you were his, why shouldn’t he have some as well? You went to work, peppering him with love bites alternated with sweet kisses.

You quickly realized that he loved being vocal when his mouth wasn’t busy, and you had him right where you wanted him. As he progressively picked up the pace, gradually thrusting into you with more force, you were privileged enough to hear every sound that left his lips. He started out with high-pitched breathy moans and whines that were damn near angelic (even though what the two of you were currently engaged in was anything but holy). He sounded so needy, like being inside you wasn’t close to being enough to satiate his desire for you and he needed more. You decided to reward him whenever he released a particularly pathetic cry of pleasure and desperation by clenching around him harder or by wriggling your hips and sinking yourself down on his length before he could slam back into you. All the while, you continued your attack on his neck until the blossoms of purple and deep red were widespread enough over his skin for your satisfaction. Pulling back to admire your work, you let out an unintentional moan of contentment at the sight that would tell everyone exactly whose San was.

As things intensified, San’s noises shifted from delicate and nearly submissive to something more domineering and… almost primal. His eyes squeezed shut in concentration as he pounded into you repeatedly, driving you up the mattress and causing the headboard to collide with the wall. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, his grunts and groans, and your own melodic vocalizations of ecstasy. Your back arched when he adjusted, finding the perfect angle that allowed him to slam against your g-spot mercilessly. He had released one of your hands in favor of reaching down to rub figure eights against your clit, increasing the pressure as your moans became louder and increasingly more unashamed. Your now free hand was gripping the sheets, bunching them up in your iron grip, but he kept your other hand intertwined with his, giving periodic squeezes as a way to check in with you.

You didn’t have to ask him to adjust his force or speed - it was as if he could read your body like an open book, as if you were his favorite story that he had memorized down to every word. He somehow knew without words exactly how to drive you even crazier. He was such an attentive lover that it made your heart swell with even more affection for him than you already had. Being with him like this felt effortlessly easy, and he alleviated every ounce of nervousness that you would have otherwise felt with anyone else.

At this point, his low growls were almost animalistic. He paused, ceasing the snapping of his hips when he noticed you looking up at him a bit quizzically and he flashed you a sly smile. “Too much?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “No, it’s insanely hot actually. I’m just surprised.”

His eyes glinted mischievously. “I’ll remember that for future reference,” he responded, thrusting hard and deep into you again without warning. Your free hand instinctively flew to your mouth to stifle the embarrassingly loud moan that tried to escape you, but he immediately grabbed your wrist and pinned it above your head. “Remember what I said, dollface. Be a good girl, let me hear you,” he chided, clearly trying to keep his dominant act up. He faltered under your gaze though, your blissed-out doe eyes locked on him in wonder, and he couldn’t have hoped to stop the desperate “Please” that fell from his lips. “Please, please, please,” he repeated, slamming into you with ease at each word he spoke. You gave in and further lost yourself in the pleasure he was giving you, your moans music to his ears.

He readjusted, releasing your interlocked hand in favor of holding both your wrists above your head with one of his own. His other hand returned to your clit once more, and you felt your impending fourth climax approaching rapidly. Your thighs began to shake and your cries became more and more broken, and San clearly wasn’t far behind. His dick twitched inside you again, and he gasped. “Y/N, I’m gonna — gonna cum,” he warned, beginning to pull out of you before he released. “Don’t wanna — not inside you…”

“Do it, San. Cum inside me, it’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you urged, your insatiable need to be filled rearing its head yet again. His eyes flew open and he looked at you in disbelief for a minute as he processed what you said, tensing up and groaning almost obnoxiously loudly when he realized what you had told him to do.

“Fucking hell, you’re going to be the death of me.” With one swift, fluid motion, he sheathed himself inside you once more, burying himself to the hilt. He gathered you up in his arms, pulling you up with him and positioning you to where you were sitting chest to chest on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, and he wrapped his around your torso, pulling you as close to him as possible. This new position had you seeing stars as he continued to thrust into you feverishly. You were close to the edge as well, and he noticed this. “Cum with me, angel,” he breathed, forcefully thrusting upwards into you once more with everything he had and subsequently coming to a stop after he tensed up again. Your mouth fell open as your fourth orgasm washed over you, and it was intensified by the feeling of him releasing freely inside of you. You cried out, relishing in the feeling of being stuffed with rope after rope of hot cum that threatened to spill out of you had San not still been snugly inside your walls.

You felt warm and fuzzy, the wet and sloppy sensation of being so perfectly full adding to the pure bliss you felt as you both came down from your high, gripping onto each other for dear life. San’s hands found their way up your back, trying to pull you impossibly closer to him as he rested his forehead against yours, breathing fast as if he had just run a marathon. “Perfect… perfect for me… all for me,” he babbled, still on cloud nine as he messily kissed along your jawline and back down to your neck. “Mine. Mine. All mine. My good little girl.”

You expected him to leave the two of you sitting in that position for a while longer while you both caught your breath, but he instead pulled out and went to lay you down on your back once more. You watched as he kissed a path down your body, starting with a tender peck on your lips and moving down to your neck, between your breasts, your stomach, and ending above your pussy as he moved to lay between your legs. What was he doing…?

“Clench,” he commanded, eyes fixated on your abused soaking cunt. You obliged, and he let out a gravely, wanton groan as he watched the mix of both your cum gush out and trickle down your skin. The sight had to be one of the hottest things he had ever witnessed, and he felt a flood of emotions overtake him. He felt possessive. He felt greedy, wanting to monopolize all your senses so that the only thing going through your mind were thoughts of him and how damn good he made you feel. You had willingly allowed him to claim you, to bind you together in the most intimate way possible. Maybe he’d feel guilty for it later, but he felt territorial towards you in light of this. Something to be protected, guarded almost selfishly in an attempt to preserve what was left of your innocence after tonight. “Mine,” he damn near snarled as he settled down on his stomach between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs and biting at the soft skin before turning his focus back to your leaking heat.

As he tried to suppress the feral urge to take you all over again despite having just fucked you dumb not even five minutes ago, the thought of fucking his cum back into you, only to fill you up again and again, threatened to send him over the edge. Admittedly, he was an animal. He could go all night without getting tired or even skipping a beat. You, however, were clearly spent, and he didn’t want to subject you to that kind of relentlessness on the same night you lost your virginity. All of that would have to wait. After all, tonight was all about you, and he had no intentions of going back on that promise. Not that he wanted to, anyways.

So, his tongue and fingers would have to suffice for now.

He licked his lips hungrily, tongue lolling out and swiping repeatedly over his plump and bruised lips, before diving in to encase them around your swollen, throbbing clit, and you couldn’t help but let out a wail at the relatively gentle motion. Even the slightest contact was practically painful by now but… not in a bad way. Even after cumming four times tonight, you were erupting in some sort of twisted pleasure at the thought of him sending you into overdrive for a fifth time. When he didn’t move, scanning your face for signs of discomfort before continuing, you reached down and laced your fingers through his hair, pulling hard as you used your new grip to guide his face closer to your core. He needed no further enticing, wasting no time as he began to suck.

With your unabashed moans spurring him on, he slid two fingers into you, and you felt the vibrations of his appreciative moan spread through your body like wildfire as he felt your combined fluids coat his fingers. He curled them, harshly brushing against your g-spot and earning a cry – no, a scream – from you. He hummed against you in delight as he began to steadily pump his fingers in and out of you, his fingers becoming even more drenched with each thrust of his hand as he forced his cum back into you over and over again, all the while continuing to suckle your clit.

He pulled away, earning a loud and distressed whine from you. “Relax, dollface, I’m not done with you yet,” he purred. He rose from his position on his stomach, crawling up to hover above you as he looked your beautiful form up and down with adoration that was in sharp contrast with his expression just a few moments ago. He lifted his hand, brushing his coated fingers against your bottom lip. “Suck, darling. Do me a favor.”

You immediately took both digits into your mouth, sucking and licking both your juices from his skin. Somewhat surprisingly to you, the taste wasn’t unpleasant, but at this point you were too far gone to even care. You made eye contact with him as you swirled your tongue around his fingertips, allowing yourself to relax and letting your instincts take over. He let out a half-choked moan as you finished the job with a loud pop, pressing feather-light kisses against his fingertips as he removed them from your mouth. “Fuck, baby, you’re filthier than I ever imagined you would be. Such a good girl for me… You want to cum again? For the fifth time?”

“Yes, daddy, please. Please make me cum again, I’ve been so good for you,” you panted out, becoming agitated that you weren’t currently getting the release you so desperately needed. “I want to… need to… tell me what to do and I’ll do it, daddy. Please.”

“Greedy little thing aren’t you, begging for me like this... I’ll give you exactly what you want. You just have to do one thing for me. Can you do that?” When you nodded zealously, he moved back to settle between your legs once more, rubbing his soft hands up and down your thighs and pressing contradictingly chaste kisses on the insides. His eyes fluttered shut as he took in the atmosphere for a moment before flashing them open once more. His stare pierced into you, sending another wave of pleasure jolting through you despite not even touching you yet. The degree of intensity and desire his eyes held was unmatched by anything you had seen all evening. Remember that bit about making you scream his name by the end of the night?

“Say my name,” he growled, making it clear that this was a demand, not a request.

“San…” you choked out, your breath hitching as he flattened his tongue against your folds.

“Say my name…” he ordered again, clearly not satisfied with your performance but continuing to lap at you, collecting some of his own cum on his tongue in the process. He flicked his tongue against your clit lazily, only offering kitten licks for now until you gave him precisely what he wanted.

“S-San… please, San…” you gasped out, significantly louder this time, the light contact further riling you up.

Better, but still not perfect, he thought as he latched his lips onto your clit once more. He had gone from desperately rutting against the bed to wrapping his hand around his shaft again, jerking himself off again for much needed relief as he relished in your taste and the cries of pure pleasure that left your lips while he worked his magic. He had thrown all care to the side, not bothering with setting a steady pace – he pumped himself erratically and without rhythm, his hips stuttering as he repeatedly tried to buck up into his hand. His own needy whimpers and moans blended with yours in an unholy melodic symphony that neither of you cared if others heard due to how lost in each other you were.

“Say… my… name.” He snarled the words authoritatively between intense sucks and firm licks, his pace relentless and eliciting needy whine after whine from you. He was going to get precisely what he wanted as if his life depended on it, refusing to stop his attack on your clit until you absolutely came undone.

You came again, hard, with a loud scream of his name that was sure to earn you both a noise complaint. Finally. Pride swelled in his chest as he listened to the sound of his name falling from your lips like a mantra, each lick pulling wails of his name from you as you succumbed to the pleasure, letting everything go. He joyfully worked you through it, reassuringly rubbing circles into your thighs as he drank up every drop of your shared releases. The wet slurping sounds were absolutely obscene as he unashamedly ate you out for the second time with even more fervor than the first, sucking up as much as he could and plunging his tongue in and out of your heat, caressing and exploring every inch of your soaked and sticky walls that he could. There was just something about lapping up his own cum mixed with yours that was so, so hot to him. Don’t ask him why – it just was.

By the time he was done with you, there was honestly little need for cleanup due to how aggressively his mouth had done all the work. When he finally pulled away, it was to work himself through his own release. He rose from his position lying on his stomach and sat up on his knees, pumping himself even more rapidly as his breathing grew heavier and heavier. You watched in awe as he squeezed his eyes shut, jaw going slack and mouth hanging open. He threw his head back, gasping out cries of your name as he brought himself closer to the edge. Fuck, you never imagined that your name could sound so beautiful leaving somebody’s mouth like this.

With a final high-pitched whine of your name, you saw his body relax as he reached his high, his release spilling out onto his hand and onto the sheets. Pulling the blankets up with him to cover the two of you, he collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight. He rested his face on your chest, nuzzling his face in between your breasts as you both laid in silence, basking in the afterglow and recovering from the thrills of the night, simply existing together and taking in each other’s presence. You ran your fingers through his soft tresses, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. “That feels nice, please don’t stop.”

You laughed to yourself. “Okay, since you asked so nicely.” His eyes had fluttered shut and a pleased sort of purr rumbled up from his chest as his breathing finally slowed. He looked so peaceful, and you couldn’t hope to hide the smile that had crept its way onto your face. You leaned down to gently kiss the top of his head and he guided your torso upwards to where he could wrap his arms around your middle and cling to you like a teddy bear. He whined when you briefly pulled your hand away from his hair to brush your own out of your face, and he blindly reached up to feel around for your hand, pawing at the air lazily when he couldn’t find it. “Put it back.”

“Somebody’s clingy,” you teased, complying with his request nonetheless.

He squeezed his arms around you tighter, simply giving a nod in agreement. “It’s your fault for being so cuddly.” Still keeping his eyes shut, he started to press sweet, innocent kisses all over your chest, making sure to be extra gentle whenever he brushed over one of the hickeys he had left earlier. You couldn’t help but jump a little bit at the tickling sensation, to which he opened one eye and glanced at you curiously. “You’re sensitive, you know that? Like, really sensitive. Makes things more fun for me.” He giggled when your face reddened, and you swore you had never heard something so cute in your life. The way his voice pitched up as he laughed, his eye smile, his dimples on display… damn, he really was perfect.

You expected him to lay his head back down and snuggle back into your chest, but instead he propped himself up on his elbow. “I meant it, you know. When I said I’ve always wanted you, and that I’m serious about you. This isn’t exactly how I expected it to play out, but I’ve never been more certain about someone in my life, Y/N. You had me from the day I first saw you in our calculus class. I just never knew how to approach you. Every time I would start to work up the courage to, I would get nervous and back out.” He must have seen you going to open your mouth to tease him because he grinned. “Hey, don’t even say it. I know I’m confident but you would have been nervous too if you were faced with someone even halfway as gorgeous as you. What was a poor guy to do, huh?”

“Bold of you to act like I wasn’t in the same position, and even bolder of you to act like you aren’t one of the prettiest men to ever walk the earth. If you hadn’t finally made a move, we probably would have never ended up here. It only took you like two months though.” Your tone was lighthearted and you reached out to brush your thumb over his cheek.

He blushed at the praise, averting his eyes and leaning into your touch. “Thanks for falling asleep that day,” he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm before lacing your fingers together. Emotion threatening to overtake him, he cleared his throat as he gathered the courage to lock eyes with you again. “I have to ask. Will you be mine, Y/N?” he asked earnestly, squeezing your hand tightly and patiently waiting for your answer.

“I was going to say, you had better ask me to go out with you after taking me to cloud nine like that! Of course I will be, San. But only if you’ll be mine in return,” you replied, offering a sincere smile.

His face lit up once more and he broke out into another fit of sweet giggles. He excitedly collapsed on his side beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close so you were chest-to-chest. Your head fit right underneath his chin, and he planted peck after peck on the top of your head as he stroked your hair. It was like he couldn’t get close enough to you physically for it to be satisfactory, but you weren’t complaining. You were relishing in all the attention he was showering you with, melting into every touch and molding your body to his almost perfectly. Maybe it sounded cliché, but the two of you really did fit together as if you were made for each other.

“I’ve been yours this entire time. You just didn’t know it,” he whispered, burying his face in your hair.

You laid like that for a while, talking and exchanging drowsy kisses and caresses as you took each other in. The low lighting of San’s room was just enough to illuminate his facial features – the sharpness of his jaw, the softness of his eyes, the curves of the lips you were already hopelessly addicted to. It was your turn to admire him now, and that you did. It was his turn to be a blushing mess, which he was – he was never one to pretend that he didn’t like attention, though, and he was clearly savoring every moment.

“Come on,” he hummed after a while. “Let’s go get cleaned up. How about a shower?” He sat up, pausing and turning to face you when he realized you weren’t following his lead. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just… God, Wooyoung probably heard everything,” you groaned, feeling a rush of embarrassment at the thought of San’s roommate hearing all the pornographic noises that had fallen from your lips as San fucked you senseless. Knowing San, though, the possibility of being caught had probably been part of the thrill for him.

He was quiet for a few moments before bursting into loud, bubbly laughter. “Y/N, Wooyoung isn’t even here. He’s been with the rest of the guys at the rec center playing basketball or something all day. Is that why you were trying to be so quiet?”

You shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “That may have been part of it,” you admitted.

San raised an eyebrow, smiling in satisfaction. “And yet I still got you to scream for me,” he teased, playfully poking you on the cheek until you broke out in a grin. “You seemed okay with letting him hear after a while, huh? Maybe you even wanted him to, hm? Wanted him to know how good I was making you feel?”

You rolled your eyes in feigned exasperation. “Don’t push your luck, San,” you sighed, trying to suppress your laughter. Oh so shockingly, you weren’t able to stop your flustered giggles from coming out.

“You know I have to push your buttons a little bit, darling,” he teased, tenderly lifting your chin with his index finger and pressing a long, sensual kiss to your lips. His eyes scanned up and down your body when he pulled away, and looking at the dark marks that adorned both of you, he had a sudden realization as he remembered the original reason you had come over in the first place for. “Y/N… We have to present tomorrow looking like this.”

“Oh FUCK – “

He erupted into laughter again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close to his chest. “What? You don’t want everyone to know that I’m yours, and you’re mine? That’s kind of the whole point.” He wriggled his eyebrows at you, and he let out a fake yelp of pain when you swatted him on the chest.

“SAN!”

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Note

#9 “Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.” with Obi-Wan & Jango & Satine? (... or Obi-Wan/Jango/Satine, I'm not picky)

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts

Oh, I'm going to make this deeply stupid and AU because I got struck by a plot bunny and I'm taking it out on a prompt.

Satine hates the man named Jango Fett.

They've met before, once or twice. He'd known her father, before the latter's assassination. She'd met Jango when she was a child, before he'd lost his people at Galidraan, before she'd lost her sister to a terrorist group and her father to a blaster shot. She'd thought him gruff but kind, at the time, and very sad.

Now, she just wants him to trip on a pipe and brain himself on one of the many rusted, broken beams around them. She won't strangle him herself, won't turn her back on her oaths and commit violence, but she's not too proud to hope for an accident.

"Pick up the pace, princess."

"I am a Duchess," she snaps, lifting her skirts to step delicately over something that might have been machinery at one point.

The only light they have is from his helmet, and the only reason she hasn't fallen from the fabric catching on some matter or other is that he has a sense for when she gets caught.

He'd suggested that she pull the skirts up to gird her loins, and then found that the numerous layers made it impossible. He'd offered to cut the skirt down to something more manageable, without depriving her of the coverage she still needed in the cold of these darks, dank ruins. He'd then found that the vibroblade did nothing against the skirts.

(She was a pacifist, not stupid. Of course her clothing was reinforced.)

"I don't care," he says back through grit teeth. She's not sure why he hasn't just left her for dead, but she's not going to complain. Much. "Just move."

They've been making their way through the ruins for hours. They still don't know how they got here. They have no way to find out.

They just head up, and hope it gets them somewhere.

(Signs litter the walls, all in a script unfamiliar to them. Archaic, or simply foreign, they don't know.)

"Wait."

She freezes.

Fett moves behind her, light shifting with the noise of his beskar, and then he says, "I'm going to turn out the light for a second. Give us a minute to adjust to the dark after I do. I think I saw something glowing, but I can't tell with the flash on."

She nods, sure that he can see it, and they are engulfed in the dark again.

It's not for long, because the glow that Fett described is real. Faint, far off down the hallway and a pale blue that winks in and out in multiple spots at once, but there.

"We'll need the light to make it there without you getting rust sickness," Fett mutters. He flicks the headlight back on. "Might get some kinda hint out of it, whatever it is."

"You'd risk it?"

"Don't have any other choice," Fett tells her. "Move out, Princess."

----

They reach the blue glow, entering a large, cavernous atrium, just as dark as the rest of the ruins so far, but much less cramped than the previous hallways.

It is mostly floating motes of something, and the something in question makes Satine's skin crawl. She has no idea what it is. She doesn't think Fett does either, but he's a little busy trying to get a scan of the room around them. Satine can just barely see the floor from the blue light, and she steps closer carefully. Part of her screams about deep sea fish and wild space ancients, creatures that use light to hunt, but they've had nothing else yet. No hints.

This place feels ancient. Perhaps the spirits that linger are even older.

"Kryze!"

"I'm fine," she calls back, deliberately refusing to understand the man's worry. She just... reaches out.

And one of the blue lights comes to her.

Fett swears and comes closer, but Satine pulls her hands to her chest, cradling the little light to herself. It's larger than she'd expected, perhaps the size of a Chandrila plum. It's warm, too.

"You're going to get yourself killed," Fett snaps.

"It's friendly," she says. "I think."

"You think," Fett hisses, the noise crackling through the vocoder. He puts a hand on her shoulder. "Listen--"

The lights coalesce. They are, for the moment, blinding, and Satine flinches away.

Fett has a blaster out before Satine can even open her eyes again. She knows the noise better than she'd like. She can identify which blaster it is by the click of the safety alone.

Any Mandalorian her age can.

"Oh dear," an unfamiliar voice says. "I'm afraid that--well, yes, Mando, hello there. I'm afraid that the blaster won't do much to me. I'm already long dead, you understand."

When Satine manages to blink the spots out of her vision, it's to see a glowing, slightly blue-tinged human figure in clothing that is distinctly Jedi, if very... very outdated.

The man--she thinks it's a man, beards usually indicate such--smiles and waves at her. "I apologize for the light show. It's been quite some time since I've had reason to take a solid form."

"I can imagine," Satine says, her voice weak even to her own ears. The man isn't much older than her, or at least wasn't when he... died? Or perhaps he was elderly when he died, and just rolled his age back as this spirit for some reason.

He smiles kindly, and then looks past her shoulder to Fett. He rolls his eyes, and smirks, and says, "Su cuy'gar, Mand'alor."

"I am not Mand'alor," Fett growls out. "I don't hold that title anymore."

"You do in spirit," the figure claims. "None other can say the same, not yet."

Before Fett can argue further, the man smiles pleasantly, and says, "I don't suppose you could remove yourselves from my shrine? Just a few steps back, thank you."

Satine looks down. She notices the raised platform and carved sigils and the stone column she hadn't seen in the earlier darkness, and flushes. She steps back and down, and Fett does the same.

"Now," the figure says. "As I was saying--"

"What are you?" Fett demands. "Ghost of a Jedi?"

"Something like that," the figure allows. "I was not just a Jedi, but... yes, I'm something you could call a ghost. I'd prefer simply a spirit."

"Like the ka'ra," Satine mutters, and grunts in disagreement.

"Those, Duchess, are only Mandalorians."

"Then I suppose it is fitting that I am both," the spirit says, and his form shifts.

Armor. It does not cover all of him--his pelvis and head are distinctly bare--but the shapes are distinctly Mandalorian. The colors aren't quite exact, with the blue glow he carries about him, but she's fairly certain she's seeing blue, green, and black. Reliability, duty, and justice.

Fitting, for a Jedi. The symbol for the Order is on his pauldron, even, and the hilt of his saber hangs easy at his side.

The gasp that comes through Fett's vocoder is harsh. She can't imagine he likes this.

"You--" he cuts himself off, takes a breath audible even past the helmet, and tries again. "There is no way you are Tarre Vizsla."

"No, I'm afraid not."

"So you must be Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The man smiles and tucks his hands into his sleeves, the swinging of the fabric allowing them the glimpse of vambraces beneath. He ducks his head in a shallow nod. "I am indeed."

Satine feels how empty of blood her own face is. She can't imagine Fett is doing much better.

"This is the Kar'ta-yaim be talyc rang," Fett mutters, horrified in a way that Satine feels her own self echoing. "You..."

"Well, we certainly never called it that," Kenobi says, head tilting faintly. "But I imagine that after the siege... Yes, Temple of Bloodied Ash would certainly reflect our final days."

It was one of the few stories that didn't pit Jedi and Mandalorians against each other, in the histories.

It had been the first attempt to coexist, the warriors of the saber and the warriors of iron. None managed to wed the two philosophies the way Kenobi had, but that hadn't mattered. They'd lived together, in peace. The reports had been clear enough, that there hadn't been weapons storage. There hadn't even been real defensive measures, barring the force fields. The Jedi had refused to let war reach this building, even whilst the Sith still raged across the galaxy. The other temples could handle the atrocities afar. The children, the elderly, the infirm, they were all to find a home here. The only weaponry were the sabers and whatever metals the Mando'ade carried in their armor.

Just a place of peace, a home to research, to children, to hospitals, all slaughtered to the last man, and set ablaze after. Nobody had ever tried such an attempt at peace between Mandalore and Jedi since. The location has been lost for longer than anyone remembers, but...

"Why are we here?" Satine asks.

"I wonder," Kenobi says, seeming far too pleased for the revelations of the last minute. He strokes at his beard, and then turns and sweeps an arm across the air. As he does, a whirring noise surrounds them, stuttered and heavy, but growing in power. Bit by bit, the sections of the wall that he'd gestured at begin to glow.

There are lights set into the wall like circuitry, warm and bright. The generators, which much be centuries old, at the least, continue to run.

"They draw energy from the river in the mountain," Kenobi says, before either of them thinks to ask. "Come along, my dears."

Satine hesitates. So does Fett.

Kenobi turns, presumably noting that their footsteps aren't following him. He smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Satine can't remember how old he supposedly was, at his death. His eyes are much older, but...

"I assure you, it's perfectly safe," he tells them. "The building won't hurt you."

"The building?" Fett asks, sounding perhaps a little more dubious than the situation warranted. They were already talking to a figure of legend.

"Yes, the building," Kenobi repeats, indulgent in a way that Satine would have found irritating if aimed at her, but rather approved of like this. "The walls are already straightening out, I feel. And the droids are going to be clearing out the debris soon enough. The rust will be a little difficult to manage, of course, but..."

"What do you mean the walls are going to straighten out?" Satine asks. "And how... this place has been dead for centuries, hasn't it? How did you wake it?"

"Duchess Kryze, I didn't wake the Temple," Kenobi tells her. She doesn't know how he got her name. "You did."

She doesn't know what to say in response. She stays quiet, and waits for him to elaborate.

"Is it because she woke you up?" Fett asks, clearly unwilling to play a waiting game. "You're a... guardian? The keyholder to the power?"

"Mand'alor," Kenobi says, with a smile playing on his lips behind the carefully-groomed beard, "I am the Temple."

What.

He smiles and starts walking backwards, gliding in a way that makes it clear he doesn't need to step, really, because his feet don't stay planted where he puts them. They have to follow, now, or risk losing him. "My consciousness, my very self, is woven into every bit of this building. I have no flesh, not anymore, but while my sense of self stays coherent in the Force... the Temple is my body."

"How?" Satine demands, hurrying to keep up. She tries to ignore the way the flagstones shift and settle ahead of her, still and level by the time she steps forward. She tries to ignore the grinding of metal, as it's pulled into the walls like it's soup instead of stone. She tries to ignore the creaking of the foundation about them, and stays focused on the pleasant smile of one of the only two Mandalorian Jedi in history that maintained the balance.

"Do your history books carry the name of my apprentice?" Kenobi asks.

"Skywalker," Fett says immediately. "And... Tano, I think, before she changed it. She escaped, didn't she?"

"Yes, she was away at the time," Kenobi says, voice distant for but a moment. Somewhere far off among the tunnels, there is a mighty crash. "I'd fought until I couldn't any more. My armor, what I had of it, protected me from the flames. I'd worn a helmet during the siege, and it filtered the smoke, even as I lay dying from other wounds... between that and the Force, I lasted long enough that Anakin found me. The others had all died of smoke inhalation, if they hadn't succumbed to their injuries or the flames themselves by that point."

"The fire didn't reach you?" Fett questions.

"Mm, no, the alcove I was in was all stone, and there wasn't anything flammable enough nearby to reach," Kenobi says, sounding distant again. "In any case, Anakin found me. He was... distraught. Desperate. Not entirely sane, I think, but with what he walked into, I can't find it in myself to fault him."

"Master Kenobi," Satine finds herself saying. "What did he do?"

Kenobi's smile is sad. She'd call it resigned, really. He's lived--sort of--with this situation for centuries now. It makes sense. "He took my mind, my soul in the Force, and 'saved' it in a way that would leave me tied to the world past my death. It was ingenious, but... I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I don't think Anakin realized what he was doing until long after he'd already succeeded at the impossible."

"He cursed you," Fett declares.

Kenobi shrugs. "I think he expected the temple to be cleaned and re-inhabited again soon enough. It wasn't, as you can see. The generators have been gathering power for centuries, but the fire destroyed most of them, and we didn't have anything in reserve with how much we poured into the shields during the battle. I couldn't fix the ruins, and with the horrors that had occurred, nobody was coming back. Anakin said he would, he promised, but... he disappeared. He visited, and he spoke with me, but a few years in he was simply... lost. I had a connection to his ship's signal, and it winked out in the blink of an eye, and never came back."

Oh. Terrifying.

"For all that I am the Temple, now, there are still secrets here that I don't yet understand," Kenobi tells them. "Your arrival, for one thing. The sediment carried up the mountain has slowly buried the temple over the centuries. There isn't a way in, save for two tunnels leading to the river, both of which I know are untouched."

"We just woke up here," Satine admits.

"Yes," Kenobi says. "You did. And part of me knows why."

"...part?" Fett asks.

It's a fair question to ask of a man who happens to have a brain that is also an entire building, somehow.

"Areas are cut off from my awareness," Kenobi admits freely. "Cave-ins and the like, mostly. There are one or two that I think I cut deliberately, due to what lay within."

Also terrifying, thank you.

"But I do believe I know what happened," he says, with that same damnably soft smile. "You two are the leaders of your people, yes? Tradition on one side, and peace on the other."

Satine shares a glance with Fett, and then turns to Kenobi and nods.

"Then I do believe it's simply the right time," he tells them. "You'll need to work together."

"I don't think so," Satine immediately denies.

"The Force works in mysterious ways," Kenobi tells her. "And if it brought you here--and you couldn't have arrived otherwise, I promise you that--then it was for a reason. Two leaders, the same people, with ideologies that I do believe are possible to bring together into, if not mixing, then at least coexistence."

"Impossible," Fett says. "The New Mandalorians are cowards, Kenobi. To share a culture with them--"

"Is as unlikely as Jedi and the old Mandalorians?" Kenobi asks, smiling so very politely that Satine wonders at how they aren't frozen stiff at the sight of it.

The sigil of the Order gleams mockingly from his pauldron.

Kenobi huffs out a breath, just a shadow of a laugh the slightest duck of his head, and then he turns and waves open a door.

Beyond him, sitting clean and pretty and entirely free of dust on its ancient stand, rests the Darksaber.

Satine stares.

She's sure Fett does, too.

"That can't be real," she says, her mouth moving before she can control it. "The Darksaber is lost, but it's popped up in history too recently to have been here since the fires."

"I saw it in Tor Vizsla's hands less than a years ago," Fett confirms. The vocoder cuts emotion from his voice, but not enough. "This place has been locked tight for centuries. The saber can't be here."

"The same could be said of the two of you," Kenobi points out.

It's true.

Satine steps forward, when it becomes clear that Fett won't. She picks up the weapon, holds it like the antique it is, square and unwieldy, but so very, very old that she cannot deny its importance. Weapon or not, it is her people's history.

She lights it.

The blade burns black.

"Turn it off," Fett rasps, and she does.

Satine looks back at him, and then to Kenobi. She turns fully, and steps forward, and holds it out to Fett.

He looks at her, uncomprehending.

"If you'd like to check for yourself," she says, and her voice is too quiet, but she can't help it. Something is happening, something heavy and broken, and she can't ignore the pressure of the future in this moment.

Fett takes the saber. He looks at it in his hands, and she thinks he is shaking.

"Your people need you, Mand'alor," Kenobi says, and there is no room for question. "They also need the Duchess."

"Why you?" Fett asks, voice strained and shattered in a way Satine can't even begin to pick apart.

"It was either me or Tarre, really," Kenobi says, with an idle shrug unfitting of the situation. "And I'm a little more... accessible, shall we say, to those who aren't sensitive to the Force."

Kenobi steps forward and rests an immaterial hand on Fett's shoulder.

"I already failed my people once," Fett says, barely audible.

"And now you shall save them," Kenobi says. His voice is firm. It is as if there is no question, to him, about whether or not Fett will succeed. "You won't be alone, either."

Satine shifts her weight, refusing to meet Kenobi's eyes. Her hands fist in her dress, and her mind races.

"What do you need of me?" Fett manages.

"...Mand'alor?"

"What do you need of me, Master Kenobi?"

Satine looks up.

Fett... Fett removes his helmet, and looks at Kenobi with an expression that is more desperation than deference.

"To cooperate with those who would follow a different creed," Kenobi says, so low it's practically a murmur. His hand, still intangible, reaches out to cup Fett's jaw. Fett leans into it. "To protect those who cannot do so for themselves. Our people are warriors, Mand'alor, but to refuse violence for violence's sake, after the wars that have killed our home and rendered it little more than glass, that is its own bravery."

"Master--"

"Listen to me," Kenobi says, and Fett falls silent. "You will need to protect them. The Duchess may have the funds and the support to bring forth education, agriculture, childcare, and so on, but there are many who would take advantage of that peace. She provides the home for tradespeople, but you are the shield that keeps them safe."

It could be a balance, Satine tries to tell herself. Maybe.

Kenobi seems so certain of it, and Satine may hate violence, but she is far from unaware of the pirates and warlords that nip at their borders.

"The foundlings need homes," Kenobi continues. "The stories need to be told. The culture is fading, Mand'alor. Bring it back."

His eyes flick to Satine, and she looks away.

(Her pressure was only ever on violence. Her advisors had pressed at the erasure of the rest, but if it meant children grew up without the worry of their parents dying in pointless battle, then wasn't it worth bending?)

(Couldn't she look the other way as they tightened restrictions on even symbolic vambraces, if it meant few too-small bodies in the streets?)

(Her planet was a wasteland. What did culture mean in the face of so many dead?)

(She knows Fett doesn't see it that way, but she is the only governing New Mandalorian with any blood on their hands. She knows the weight of violence, of lives taken by her actions.)

(She knows it, and she rejects it knowingly.)

Fett breathes harshly, and Satine closes her eyes.

"I agree to try," she says. "If we can get out of these ruins and back to our people... I will try. I cannot speak for my people on this, but to instate the old Mandalorians as a planetary guard... it may be doable."

"Little steps, my dear," Kenobi says. He looks down at Fett, who's... not well, it seems. "The Mand'alor needs some help, I think. I'm no trained mind healer, but I imagine I can help. More than most, maybe. There are few who know what it is to be a sole survivor."

He smirks, just a little, at the joke that he is not, in fact, a man who survived.

It's not very funny.

"I'll stay," Fett says. "I'll... I'll learn. Master Kenobi, you... Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me."

"As a student?" Kenobi asks, catching on to just the same thing as Satine has. "Not in the Force, surely, but... you truly wish to stay?"

"There are none left alive that I would trust to show me the way," Fett says. Beseeching, he reaches for Kenobi, and his hands pass through. There's a pain in him that Satine can't quite comprehend, and Fett falls to his knees. "Please."

"You need only ask," Kenobi says. "The Duchess will look after our people until the King takes his throne, and then you will rule together."

They'll have to, Satine tells herself, and steps forward. She puts a hand on Fett's shoulder, and pulls him to his feet.

"Where do we begin?" she asks.

#satine kryze #obi wan kenobi #jango fett #ghosts #massacre mention #is this vaguely inspired by GLaDOS and Castle Heterodyne? ...yes #but less murdery overall #star wars #the clone wars #Phoenix Answers Memes #supernatural au #kinda #one shot #death mention #child death mention #horror au #also kinda

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13uswntimagines · 3 years

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Better To Be Friends Than Competition (Lindsey x Reader)

Author’s Note: This Technically wasn’t requested, but @literaryhedgehog and i had a blast writing this. It’s the Harry Potter AU. Basically, reader is a muggleborn who really wants to be a chaser, but maybe there’s a better position for her on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. This is the beginning of what will be a multi-part series following the building romance between two amazing characters and how our golden octet help them out along the way.

@sleep-deprived-athlete

“Alright, you’ve all been told the rules and had the chance to warm up. So let’s start by dividing into groups. Anyone who wants to be a seeker follow Mia there to the far side of the field. Beaters to the left with Foudy. Keepers to the goalposts with Hope. And chasers with me up top,” Brandi said with a wave of her hand, kicking off of the ground and heading towards where her group was going to meet.

You snuck a glance to either side of you as you also kick off and head to your position, trying to guess who out of the eight students around you is going to be your biggest competition. Surely you thought more people would have wanted a chance at a spot on one of the best teams at Hogwarts. Tryouts had been packed for the last two years.

You wondered which drill Brandi was going to start with as you approached the group (said woman was idily tossing a quaffle lightly in her hands as she talked to another one of your competition). For the last 2 years it was always a set of passing drills, where would-be chasers played a very complicated game of catch up and down the pitch.

Maybe those tryouts were supposed to be private, but how else could you prepare for them if you didn’t know what to expect?

Quidditch was honestly a really weird sport. Well, American football made less sense, but you hadn’t exactly studied the rules as extensively as you had Quidditch. Like, the game literally would not end until someone caught the snitch. According to Quidditch through the Ages a game had literally lasted for months. You remembered watching a tennis game that lasted for four days before, but generally the muggle sports you grew up with were more consistent in how long each game took.

“Oh yeah”, you thought, watching the beaters line up across the pitch, “and there is also a ball charmed to try and knock people off their broom. That’s not normal.” Though it was something your dad found hilarious.

Sports were always something the two of you could talk about, even before you found out you had magic. He loved the fact that you loved football as much as he did, and was thrilled by the fact that you had enough talent to play it in your primary school.

Though with your hand eye coordination you had done better with cricket, and baseball the few times you had a chance to play it in gym. So when you had joined the wizarding world you naturally had gotten into quidditch. Learned everything you could about the game so you could give him detailed play by plays about the games when you sent owls home.

At this point you were dying to play. You were too short to be a beater or a keeper, but you knew you could be a chaser. You could catch like nobody’s business, and you had at least half of the tactics in The Beginner's Quidditch Playbook memorized. You were going to be the best damn chaser Hogwarts had ever seen.

“Hey space captain, you ready for this?”

“What?” You froze, heat flooding your cheeks at being caught not paying attention. You slowly turned to face the new presence.

You knew the girl. Well. You knew of the girl (it was impossible not to know about the very pretty blond girl). She was in your house and year (and therefore in your dorm as well as all your classes) but the two of you had never really interacted before. She seemed to already know everyone and everything when she got to Hogwarts, so it didn’t really seem like she was looking for friends, and it was hard enough trying to figure out your new life without having people look at you strangely when you didn’t know a word they used. Not that Lindsey, you thought that’s her name anyway, had done that, but other purebloods did. It was easier figuring things out on your own to start, and by the time you did, you and Lindsey had already established yourselves in different friend groups. Was her name Lindsey? A Slytherin in your year was always calling her strange nicknames, so it was hard to tell.

“The drill. Are you ready for the drill space captain?” The girl asked again.

“Yeah, but I’m not a captain. I’m a second year, like you,” You said softly, your eyebrows furrowing. Maybe that was a wizard saying, but you had no idea what she was talking about. Your heart also dropped just a touch because if she thought you were a captain then she had absolutely no idea who you were.

She shook her head with a giggle (showing off her dimples). “My dad says that’s what muggles call a person with their head in the clouds,”

You cocked your head to the side, your brain running a million miles an hour to try and figure out what she meant. But then it clicked. “Oh you mean space cadet,”

“I guess,” She shrugged, seemingly unbothered about the correct verbiage.

The whistle blowing brought both of your attention back towards Brandi and the first set of would-be chasers beginning the crossing drill. You coughed to hide a scoff when Lynn Williams raced at breakneck speed up the pitch, and released the quaffle at least 30 feet off where the chasing captain had instructed.

You shook your head at the play. It was too sloppy, too open and it would never connect well with JJ and Alex up top.

“Not impressed by what you see?” Lindsey asked, her eyebrow quirking up (trying very hard to pretend she wasn’t interested in your answer. You were her competition after all).

“Not after Alex basically destroyed the same course last year. She’s got an 85% accuracy rating on goal and nearly 60% of her shots come off of left crosses. Williams isn’t getting high enough on the pitch to provide an adequate pass,” You mumbled out quickly, wincing when Lynn made the same mistake on the way back, nearly sending her partner (a girl in the year below you named Mal) into the stands to catch it (though you were slightly impressed that Mal managed to grab it before it landed in the seats).

“Yeah, I see what you mean. Her throws tend to either go too short or too long. Even if it doesn’t go directly to her partner it at least needs to be consistent so during a game the person she’s throwing it to knows where to intercept it before the other team does,” Lindsey said, taking a hand off her broom to shield her eyes.

“She’s fast but it won’t help if she forces the other chaser off her line to provide service to Alex in front of the posts,” You huffed. Having her on that side would be a positioning nightmare. It left the team open and vulnerable to so many different attacking options.

“I am not entirely sure what that means,” Lindsey said, smirking as she looked sideways at you, “but it sounds like you don’t think she’s competition, which is good news for us!’

You opened your mouth to respond, only to be cut off by Brandi’s whistle. “Alright next pair up,”

You gulped and tightened your fingers on your broom “Guess it’s showtime,” You muttered, surging forward to the starting line.

“Good luck space captain, you’re gonna need it,” Lindsey called back towards you with a wink, taking the ball from Brandi.

You shook your head. You wouldn’t need luck. A fucking golden retriever could beat out the performance you had just whitnessed. As long as you didn’t fall off your brooms, you both would be fine.

***

You raced towards the hoops, reaching your arm out to pluck the perfectly timed ball out of its arc towards the ground. Okay, Lindsey was good. Really good. She HAD to have known how bad Lynn’s throws were, because hers were positively perfect. Your throws were good, but Lindsey had this way of arching the ball up through the air if a perfect loop so it practically fell into your hands. There was no way she didn’t practice over the summer.

You neared the posts, starting to make your u-turn to pass the ball back when a flash of gold caught your eyes. Before you really thought it through, the hand anchoring you to your broom had already lifted to snatch it out of the air on instinct. You had played cricket for most of your life- it was instinct to reach out and grab a ball that looked like it was about to fly into your face.

The next few seconds happened almost in slow motion. As your fingers closed around the cool metal, you realized just how far to your side you had to lean to reach the object, and how far off balance it had put you. Your legs crossed tightly as you flipped completely upside down on your broom, entirely unwilling to let go of the object you had just caught or the large quaffle still tucked tightly under your arm. Before you really knew what was happening, you were staring straight at the ground, your legs the only thing keeping you in the air.

“Holy shit, holy shit. Um, hey Lindsey?” You called, eyes on the ground below you.

“What?” You heard her call. You idly wondered why one of the captains hadn’t put a stop to this yet and put you out of your misery.

“Catch?” You threw the quaffle, well tossed it really, up into the air towards where you thought the other girl was. You knew it was going to be short, but also knew that she was going to catch it anyway. She really was that good. With your now free hand you reached up and grabbed the handle of your broom so you could pull yourself to it and rotate back to an upright position.

Only then did you look down at the tiny ball fluttering in your hand. The tiny, almost leathery, wings flapped like it was waving hello. You stared at it in awe, your lips ticking up. You had just caught the golden snitch. You never thought you would get to touch the snitch, much less catch it.

“Hey you” a voice called from the pitch behind you. You turned to look as Mia flew from where the seeker candidates were staring hopelessly at the sky around them to land on the pitch. “Get down here. Yeah, you on the drills.” She motioned down to the pitch, indicating where you should land, then turned her head to call over her shoulder, “Brandi I’m taking number 2.”

You quickly flew towards where she had pointed, shakily dismounting from your broom. You weren’t sure if it was fear, adrenaline or nerves, but your legs felt like jelly. You clutched the little ball in your hand so tightly that you were sure there was going to be an imprint in your palm later.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing in the chaser section?” Mia said, tucking her broom under her arm and throwing her hand up towards the group of would be chasers throwing a ball around at varying distances. (You tried not to wince when Lynn nearly pegged Mal in the face again).

“Um, trying to be a chaser? I was always a good forward so I thought it might fit?” You mumbled with a shrug, scratching the back of your neck with your free hand. a light shade of pink covered your cheeks. It was a little embarrassing how clueless you were with the magical world sometimes, and how even after being here for two full years, you still felt completely out of your depth.

“That’d be like using a cauldron as a teacup because they’re both the same shape. It’d work but what a waste!”

“I…- I have no idea what that means. I know I caught the wrong thing, and I’m sorry. I’ll leave now if that’s what you want,” You stuttered out, suddenly finding the way your shoe poked the pitch underneath you interesting.

“No, kid you misunderstand me. Look, you, what’s your name again?” Mia stepped closer, tilting her head as she looked at you.

“Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n,”

“Right, Y/n, you could play chaser. You’d even be a decent one with a bit of work. But that’d be a damn waste of talent. You’re a natural seeker. I’m not upset with you for catching the wrong ball, I’m upset you weren’t over in my section trying to catch the snitch in the first place. Look at that lot over there, they still think it’s somewhere over the stands.” Mia stepped next to you and turned, gestured to the group of seeker hopefuls flying in circles near the Ravenclaw seats.

“Oh,” You breathed out, following her hand to look at the large group. They were squinting towards the stands and swooping low at whatever they thought they had spotted, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the snitch had been caught on the other side of the pitch and that Mia wasn’t even paying attention to them anymore.

“I’ve had a lot of practice spotting this ball,” Mia said, tapping the snitch trapped in your hand. “I was able to see it within about a minute of it being released, and have been watching it since. None of them saw it when it was on their side of the field, but you saw it instantly- even when you were focused on something else. That is a talent Y/n. Why didn’t you try out for seeker in the first place?”

“I didn’t know how to practice for it, and that-. It wasn’t like any of the other positions I have ever played,” You muttered, trying to cover your insecurity with a nonchalant shrug. It seemed like the position that required the most innate ability, and as a muggleborn you didn’t think you had any.

Mia nodded slowly looking at you. “Right,” she said, turning and mounting her broom, “I wanna run you through some drills. Come on.”

You blinked at the woman as she hovered in front of you. Your eyes darting between Mia and the object still clutched tightly in your hand. Where were you supposed to put it? Were you supposed to let it go?

You brought your palm up so it was level with your eyes and opened your hand, half expecting the snitch to fly away. It didn’t. It’s wings slowly unfurled and it waved docilely at you. Like an old friend.

“What’re you waiting for?” Mia called down at you.

“It won’t fly away!” You called back, looking up at the woman, who rolled her eyes indulgently.

“Of course not, it’s yours. You caught it, and you can watch it like some love-struck puppy later- stash it in your pocket and come on!”

***

You were having a fucking blast, even though you had no idea what you were in for when you joined the seeker group. Every year when you watched tryouts, you never payed attention to what they had to do, as you never thought you would have to do it. Even without the advantage, you were killing it.

You had been separated into pairs, just like the chasers were, but Mia had enchanted clear balls (the size of tennis balls) to randomly fly through the air. The balls were given a 5 second head start before you and your partner were allowed to race to catch it. Now this was familiar, the jostling of arms while racing after a ball and trying to prevent someone else from getting to it before you. Only once out of five rounds did your opponent get to the ball before you, but really, that elbow to your ribs was a red card if you’d ever seen one.

Then everyone took turns hovering in the air as Mia took ten of the enchanted balls and flicked them up haphazardly one by one every five seconds. The goal was to catch as many of them as you could before they hit the ground, even as they were sent up in different directions and some much higher in the air than others. You didn’t get all of them, but the seven you saved still seemed to impress the other seeker candidates who didn’t scowl. The second highest number saved was six, but that girl still congratulated you as you got off your broom, since “those last few of them went way further out than they did for me- and you were an inch away from that eighth one!”

You nodded, smiling at her, though you were probably more embarrassed than she realized about that eighth one. That one had been sent towards the far side of the field, where you looked up to meet Lindsey’s eyes. You had been placed perfectly to catch the ball as it started falling from it’s apex, but in the moment your hand faltered, and it brushed by your hand instead. You cursed and considered going after it, but then you flew back to where Mia had already released one of the last two on the other side of the field.

“Alright, for our last drill, we’re going to try to catch a real snitch again,” Mia said, pulling another golden ball out from inside her robes and holding it between her thumb and pointer finger. Its wings sprung out and flapped wildly, unlike the slow waving of the one in your pocket.

Everything in you wanted to catch the little golden ball. To tame it like you had the other one. For it to sit calmly in your hand and wave hello like an old friend.

“Isn’t the other one still out there?” The same girl asked, her head tilting to the side.

“It’s been taken care of,” Mia smirked and shook her head, sending a little glance in your direction. The girl stared at her wide eyed, opening and closing her mouth as though she wanted to say more, but Mia again cut her off with a stern glare. ”As I was saying, the first of you to catch it gets to keep it and also gets a boost to the points on their scorecard. Now line up,”

You all flew low on the pitch, forming a circle with Mia and the snitch at its center. Your eyes never left the frantically flapping little ball as you waited for her whistle to blow. There was no way it was going to escape you and if you got to show off for the would be chasers watching you near the posts, that was fine with you too.

***

“Congratulations Y/n! There’s no way you won’t get picked to be seeker,” the girl said, after Mia released you, promising that the results of the tryouts would be posted next week.

“Oh, um thanks-...” You said trailing off towards the end, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck. You didn’t know her name.

“Oh, sorry. You missed introductions at the beginning. I’m Savannah, from two years above you.” Savannah grinned at you, a bit ruefully. “You know, I thought this was going to be my year to nail the seeker position. But with you on the team, there’s no WAY we’re gonna lose to Slytherin. And Lloyd can stop looking so smug about the cup win last year.”

“The only reason they were better is because they had Amy and Sydney scoring. They won despite her and her stupid tactics. If Slytherin actually got a decent seeker then we’d be in trouble,” Lindsey said, throwing her arm over your shoulder and stepping to walk between you and Savannah.

“Carli’s decent, just distracted I think. She had NEWTS along with scouters and stuff,” you muttered, a bit defensively. You know you weren’t supposed to like the Slytherins- house competition and all that- but Carli’s strategy was pretty impressive. The recruiters certainly seemed to think so, you heard rumors that the recruiters from the Wasps and Arrows had a bidding war before the Harpies showed interest.

“Pshh it was just the Harpies recruiter. Even if they have Potter, she’d still probably tank their win streak. At least that’d help my team,” Lindsey snorted, shaking her head.

Your eyebrows furrowed. The Harpies were the second oldest team in the league, and since they recruited Ginny they had been on a tear taking down the Cannons and the Magpies in the final games of the European cup three years running. You thought Carli’s strategy would fit nicely in their ranks.

“I’m pretty sure there were Wasps recruiters and Magpies guys here too,” Savannah said to Lindsey. You noticed her eyes glanced towards Lindsey’s arm around your shoulder as she smiled widely. Lindsey dramatically rolled her eyes.

“Which team is yours?” You asked softly, leaning your head on Lindsey's shoulder as you trudged towards the locker room, ignoring Savannah.

“The cannons of course,” Lindsey said confidently. Savannah seemed to be hiding a smirk, and waved goodbye at you as she headed into the locker room.

“They’re pretty alright, but Ronaldo is a little too cocky for me. Sinclare and Potter together are a lethal combo for the Harpies and with Angerer in goal they’re like unstoppable,” You hummed thoughtfully. You also liked that the Harpies were an all female team.

“Ugh, you sound like Emily,” Lindsey said, rolling her eyes. “She and Sam are giant Magpies supporters.”

“I mean the Magpies have a 75% score rate while the Cannons are only at a 60. And Messi catches the snitch within the first hour 80% of the time, while Ronaldo’s catches take about 85 minutes on average,” you rattled off. So maybe you were a little too into statistics. At least your dad never had to worry about your math skills.

“No way, they’re super into team stats too! Maybe you can help me convince Emily and Sam that the Cannons are the best team!”

“But Emily and Sam, whoever they are, are right. The stats don’t lie,” You said with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh, Emily is my friend in Slytherin and Sam‘s in Hufflepuff. I’ll introduce you later.” Lindsey said waving a hand in the air. “Anyway, the Magpies may have Messi, but the Cannons have heart! And isn’t that what really matters to make a good team great?”

You paused, pulling Lindsey to a stop beside you. “I know they don’t teach math here, but Statistics beat heart any day.”

Lindsey laughed and shoved you playfully to the side. “You haven’t even met them and already you’re ganging up on me.”

“I’m just stating facts. The hat almost put me in Ravenclaw cause I just love random factoids so much,” you smirked, tucking yourself back under her outstretched arm (it was just so warm and it made you feel… safe).

“Well, I’m glad you’re in Gryffindor. It's way better to have you as a teammate than competition Space captain. Now let’s go- if we hurry we can probably get to the library to work on that potions essay before curfew.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #literalhedgehog #harry potter au #hogwarts au #quidditch au

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wavyhairedbabyy · 3 years

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Idiots - Part 2

Karl Jacobs x gn!reader

tldr: They’ve both got a crush. Sucks, since they’re the only ones oblivious to it. (Slow Burn!)

CW: none, fluffy :))

a/n: Picnic portion was inspired by Sunflower by Rex Orange County :) Sorry it took so long! Major writers block on this but now I’m back :)))

edited yet?: yes - let me know if I missed anything!

Part 1 - Part 2

“So we agree, I’m Eve and you’re Wall-E?” y/n asked as the credits began to roll.

“I want to sit here and disagree with you just to spite you, but I can’t,” Karl responded, “I could 100% see you blasting someone for just walking funny on a bad day.”

“I’d blast you just for the hell of it,” Y/n jumped onto their feet raising their arms up in a big stretch after sitting for the movie.

“Bad choice,” Karl reached his arms to the side of their body, immediately tickling them. Y/n immediately screamed out his name, trying to move themselves out of his grasp. As soon as Karl noticed this, he grabbed their arm to pull them back on to the sofa.

“You’re... going... to... regret... this!” Y/n huffed out, thrashing against him. Karl’s giggles and their screams echoed around the house. It wasn’t until y/n mustered up all of their strength to push him of the couch for them to escape his clutches.

Y/n ran to the bathroom, quickly locking the door behind them. Karl quickly ran behind them only to have the door slammed in his face, “Aw, c’mon y/n, let me in.”

“After that stunt you pulled? In your dreams, Jacobs,” Y/n turned toward the sink, ignoring Karl’s attempts to unlock the door. The only thing on their mind was their night routine and then hitting the hay.

As y/n started the warm water, the door swung opened making them jump. At the door frame stood Karl with a quarter in his hand, “Next time you should check to see what kind of lock I have.”

“Whatever, smart ass,” y/n rolled their eyes playfully, reaching for their tooth brush. They brushed their teeth as Karl scrolled through his phone. After the flight, unpacking, and a night with Karl, y/n just wanted to head to bed. They couldn’t even imagine how Karl felt with all the Mr. Beast stuff. After rinsing their mouth they asked, “You goin’ to bed too?”

Karl shook his head, “Nah, I’m going to stream for an hour or two. Nick and Alex want to practice for this Minecraft Championship thing so I’m gonna root them all while also roasting the crap out of them.”

Y/n should’ve known, especially with the mountains of energy drinks in his fridge. The man probably never sleeps, “Well you enjoy that. I’m knocking out for the night.”

Karl nodded. “I figured. You and you grandma schedule,” he giggled, resulting in a pout from them.

“You say that as if dealing with sleep deprived me isn’t one of the worst things in the world.”

“I mean, you got me there,” he shrugged. He walked over to them, wrapping his arms around them tightly, “Goodnight. Knock on my door if you need anything at anytime, okay?”

Y/n nodded, hugging back just as tightly. They wished this could last together. His smell was comforting, reminding her of happiness and serenity. His hold made them feel safe, like nothing could hurt them as long as he was there. The feeling ended too quickly as he pulled away, giving them one last smile before heading off to his stream room.

Y/n looked at themselves in the mirror, huffing to themselves. Going from not seeing Karl for over a year to all Karl all the time felt like sensory overload. The butterflies, the emotions, their head racing with thoughts that they shouldn’t have for someone who is just their best friend - it was a lot.

This was going to be a long week.

***

Y/n woke up to the sun’s rays gleaming through the blinds. Looking at their phone, they saw that it was 9AM. Juggling between the staying in bed and getting up, y/n decided that getting up was the better option. The last thing they wanted to do was go back to bed and mess up their “grandma schedule,” as Karl would call it.

Moving out of the bed, they reached their limbs as far as they could stretch them. After picking their outfit, they journeyed to the bathroom to get their morning started. On the way over, they peeked into Karl’s room and saw him still asleep. They had no idea when he had gone to bed so they shut the door quietly, making their way to the bathroom once again.

As they were brushing their teeth, y/n realized it was the day they were going to the warehouse for a Mr. Beast video. They knew they weren’t going to be filmed, but the nerves were still there. They had met Chris, which was helpful, but not Jimmy yet. What if they messed up a shot? Or messed up any equipment? Not touching anything while they were there seemed like a fool proof idea.

Y/n finished up their morning routine as they kept thinking of ways to not fuck anything up. Making their way to the kitchen, they knew the one thing that could - somewhat - calm their nerves: coffee.

Y/n happily found a jar of instant coffee. Not the best, but it’ll do. Upon unscrewing the jar, they noticed it a plastic film seal up which confirmed that it was brand new. Did Karl get this just because he knew they were coming? They couldn’t recall him ever drinking caffeine that wasn’t from an energy drink. Y/n didn’t know, but the idea of it made their heart melt.

***

Once Karl woke up, he and y/n made a quick breakfast together made their way over to the warehouse.

“I don’t know why, but I’m really nervous. I don’t even know what I’m nervous about. I know it’s going to be fine, but.... I don’t know,” y/n expressed on the drive there. It was a brand new experience and they didn’t know what to expect. They’ve never been on a set of any kind let alone one for someone as well known as Mr. Beast.

“Hey, you’ll be okay. I know it can feel overwhelming, especially for your first time. I’ll be there if you need anything,” Karl comforted them through their nerves. He held their hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “If you ever need a minute, don’t wait to ask. Just take it.”

Y/n smiled at him. He was always great at making sure they were comfortable wherever they went. While the nerves were still there, they felt a lot better knowing Karl was available, even among the chaos that may ensue.

***

The day at the warehouse went really well. Y/n’s nerves went away about an hour in, but that didn’t stop Karl from checking every now and then. Y/n was grateful that they respected them not wanting to be filmed, especially when they started filming a Fear Factor like video with snakes, cockroaches, and tarantulas. With all the creatures around, it didn’t take long for them to grab one of the smaller boa constrictors and start chasing Karl around with it.

“Y/N! STOP! WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU?” Karl screeched, running away from them.

“REMEMBER THAT TICKLE ATTACK FROM LAST NIGHT? TOLD YOU YOU WOULD REGRET IT!” Y/n yelled back. They were laughing the entire time while Karl continued his screaming. Their fun chasing Karl was cut short when snake man had to start packing away his animals.

At some point during the day, y/n had taken a step outside for a social break. Chris took this time to continue the conversation he and Karl had in the car. Walking over to his friend, he asked, “So have you told them yet?”

Karl looked around to ensure you hadn’t come back or were around before responding, “No, I’m going to wait until right before they leave. I’m scared that I’ll tell them and it’ll ruin the week.”

Chris looked at Karl, absolutely dumbfounded, “Dude, I can’t believe the two of you. And you two acted the way you did today in college too?”

“I mean, yeah. We’re best friends. What’s wrong with how we’re acting?” Karl gave him a confused look.

“Nothing but it’s so painfully obvious y’all are into each other. I didn’t pick it up yesterday, but y/n is totally into you too, man,” Chris explained, “Even Chandler was able to pick it up. He thought I was kidding when I said you two weren’t a low-key thing. Please do both of yourselves a favor and just tell them.”

This conversation ran through Karl’s head the rest of the day. Did y/n really like him back? The thought of that made his stomach do flips. He became hyper aware of all y/n’s actions and they suddenly meant more to him. When they high-fived, he felt his hand on fire when they weaved their fingers with his. He was more aware of their body on his when they hugged, butterflies flying through his stomach when they gave him a squeeze.

The drive home was spent by y/n non-stop talking about how much of a great day they had right after a heated debate on where they would be picking up dinner. They were too tired to even thinking about cheffing up a meal. What y/n didn’t know was the nerves hidden underneath Karl’s semi-cool exterior on how he planned on confessing his feelings. Luckily, “semi-cool” was his middle name.

The two had stopped at the Asian fusion place they decided to pick up food from. As they got into the car, Karl’s eyes lit up as he came up with an idea for dinner and turned to y/n.

Y/n, noticing this, furrowed their brows and said, “You either have a really good idea or a really dumb idea, and I think you’re going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not.”

“You are absolutely right!” Karl giggled, “Anyways, to keep it short and simple, picnic in the park? I have a blanket and we can pick up some ice cream or something.”

“That... actually is a great idea! I’m starting a playlist now and I’ll share it with you. How does ‘stupidly great vibes’ sound?”

“Sounds perfect.”

***

The two sat on a hill in a nearby park, digging into their dinner with the last minute playlist y/n had come up with playing in the background. The bottom of the sun was barely touching the horizon, getting ready to set and give the sky to the moon for the night.

The comfortable silence they had was one of their favorite things about their relationship. Neither of them ever felt pressure to fill the emptiness. Just being in each other’s company was entertaining and pleasing for both of them. They just watched their surroundings, while enjoying their food and each other’s presence.

After they clean up, the silence continued. They sat shoulder to shoulder, enjoying the moment they were in. They both would steal side glances at each other without the other noticing. Moving to lean their head on Karl’s shoulder, Y/n was looking at the sunset but their thoughts were swarmed with him and the last day and a half. They loved how he always made sure they were comfortable and welcomed in any setting. They loved they way his voices would crack during a fit of giggles. Just one day with him had their mind swirling in a pool of just him. His touch, his smell, his voice. They felt like they were in a trance with him.

Being with them, Karl realized how much happier he was with them there. He realized how much giddier he was waking up, how his mood had been uplifted with just their presence. He loved how headstrong they were, but never so much to the point that it hurt other people. He loved the way they could up his self esteem in the matter of a few minutes. The more and more he thought about it, the more he realized he loved them. He loved them more than just a best friend. He’s had for a handful of years. He wanted more than just the title “best friend.”

The two sat there, both individually coming to the realization that they have been falling in love with the other over the last few years. Neither caught onto each other’s hints while every outsider saw the love for one another other bloom.

Karl turned his head, spotting a small white daisy in the grass next to their blanket. He leaned over to grab it which forced y/n to lift their head from where it was, their eyes watching for what he was reach for. Plucking it from the grass, he leaned back and gave it to y/n.

“For you,” he practically whispered with the goofiest grin on his face. Y/n took the flower from his hand, returning his smile.

“Aw, thanks Karl.”

They locked eyes immediately after. Any plans Karl had in his mind on confessing to y/n immediately got thrown out the window, the hours of thinking gone to waste. In that moment, he blurted out the only words he could make sense of in that instant, “y/n... I think I’m in love with you.”

Y/n froze, trying to wrap the words he said around their head. They for sure thought they were awake but after his confession, they couldn’t be sure if they were in a dream or not. Their mind was reeling, making the task of forming a sentence that made sense a difficult one.

At the same time, Karl was giving himself a mental face palm. He wanted to confess his feelings, but not to that level. His nerves were on high alert, already assuming the worst was yet to come. He had to save the friendship at the very least.

“I-I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to come out like that,” he rambled, “But - uh- I’ve had a crush on you for a while now and I never wanted to ruin the friendship but if you’re uncomfortable with that, that totally makes sense-”

As he kept talking, y/n began to collect their thoughts. They thought he looked so cute when he nervously rambled but they had to cut him off eventually, knowing his anxiety levels were through the roof.

“Karl,” As soon as he heard their voice, his rambling stopped and kept all eyes on them. He looked at them waiting for a response but receiving none. Instead y/n wrapped their arms around him, enveloping him in a warm hug, “I think I’m in love with you too.”

Karl felt his heart explode. Chris was right. He hugged them back just as, if not more, tight. Any nerves he had running threw his body were replaced with pure happiness. He didn’t need to hold anything back from them anymore.

Y/n pulled away from the hug, leaning their foreheads together, “Can I kiss you?”

Karl smiled, “Honestly, it’s all I’ve want since I made that shot into your coffee.”

Y/n gave Karl a bewildered look, “What? That long?” They exclaimed

“Yeah, but we have the rest of the week to talk about it.” Karl leaned in, pressing his lips gently against theirs, wrapping his hands around them to bring them closer. The kiss was gentle and sweet, as if they would be woken up from a dream if they were anything but that.

They pulled away from kiss, but remained in each other’s arms. They stayed silent and enjoyed each other’s presence and touch, each meaning much more than they had just a few moments earlier. All that was left in the park was the semicircle of the sun on the horizon, a bag of food scraps, and two idiots, dumbfounded at the love they had for each other.

***

If you liked this fic, check out my others:

Masterlist

#karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs x reader fluff #karl jacobs fluff #karl jacobs fanfic #karl jacobs #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction

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shades-of-stony · 3 years

Text

Heavy Angst (And Not-So-Heavy but Still Angsty) Stony Fanfics!

I’m absolutely love a good Tony whump and hurt story so prepare to see a lot of those here! Get your tissues ready!

Push by phoenixreal

Summary: Tony Stark was known for pissing people off, it was a given. Then, after the man everyone thought was nothing more than a selfish prick decided to nearly kill himself saving Manhattan from a nuclear bomb, even the most sure of Tony's bastard status had to rethink it. And then, his team who were sure they had him pegged, they were invited (ordered) to move into Stark Tower with him. To their surprise, they found he had furnished full floors for each of them, somehow knowing their tastes exactly, including a floor dedicated to the resident Asgardian who would only be there some of the time. Surprised, and please, they all wonder at the enigma that is their host. After a couple months, Pepper Potts stops coming around so much, and they realize that something has exchanged between them because they are rather professional to each other. Pepper still frets over Tony, but instead tells the others to keep an eye on him rather than doing it herself. They easily forget that Tony is, and always has been, simply a human civilian. Then things get strange when they find themselves locked down within Stark tower, and after a harrowing viewing of a mysterious video, they find their resident playboy is completely gone.

Note: Prepare to cry and be hurt! This fanfic dabbles with Tony’s insecurity, self-worth, and issues. Please heed the warnings!

The words you choose to say by masterlokisev159

Summary: After the SHRA, the events around Steve’s death and Tony discovering he deleted part of his brain, Tony finally decides he's done enough. With Osborn taken care of, Tony leaves the Avengers and decides to quit being Ironman effective immediately.

He tells himself it doesn't hurt when Steve agrees. Why should it? After everything he's done, the team's better off without him.

However before he can truly move on, there are things he needs to take care of, and it's not long before he realizes he's dangerously close to losing his company. He's desperate and willing to do anything to keep it together.

So when, after months of silence, Steve asks him to drop everything and come work for Shield, Tony finds he doesn't have a choice. He agrees, no matter how much he knows he shouldn't. His reputation isn't exactly the best after the SHRA and he's heard stories of what he'd done as Director. He's knows what he's done. He's knows he's responsible for what happened to Steve.

He just wishes someone had warned him first. He hadn't been prepared to deal with the consequences.

Note: A 1000/10 angst fanfic that made me weep at 3 am in the morning. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. READ IT AND PREPARE TO CRY BUCKETS

Protocol SOTERIA by GoldenFinches

Summary: Friday's primary objective at all times is to protect one Anthony Edward Stark. And she will fulfill that objective no matter what it takes. Even if it means including certain people she thought she would never have to deal with again.

(Basically the Rogue Avengers get some sense knocked into them with the help of Friday and handful of videos.)

Note: A HIGHLY RECOMMENDED ANGSTY FANFIC. I CRIED SO MUCH READING THIS.

Straight to Voicemail by YouMakeMeDokiDoki

Summary: "I DID!" Tony screamed, cutting Steve off mid-sentence and whirling around to glare at him.

"I CALLED YOU! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!"

The one where no one answered their phone and things got out of hand.

Note: this will absolutely break you heart.

Sunshine and Luck by ImportedfromMunich2

Summary: Months after Siberia, Steve and the rest of the defectors are pardoned and allowed back onto the Avengers, with the help of Tony Stark. Now that they're back - nothing is the same as before. Tony is even avoiding Steve at all costs.

Then one night - Tony barges into Steve's bedroom while he sleeps, and they have spontaneous, passionate sex.

Only, the Tony Stark he just fucked isn't from this universe.

Now, Steve has to find a way to explain to Tony that he had sex with his counterpart from another dimension.

Note: A good Steve whump fic!

When You Mess With Him... by REM_It_Up

Summary: During an event with the Avengers, Tony is kidnapped by an unknown group of men right in front of the team. The group who took Tony taunt the Avengers by leaving small clues to Tony's whereabouts. When the kidnappers finally get in contact with the team, they are forced to watch Tony get tortured on camera.

The Avengers desperately search for their missing friend before they never see him again.

The kidnappers are smart and fast, they have everything figured out in order to get away with their plan...They just forgot one thing--

Colonel James Rhodes

Note: Now this is really heavy! Brace yourselves for a kidnapped and tortured tony! Also, protective honey bear aka Rhodey bonus here!

To Need is Not To Want by Brixon

Summary: All his life Tony has been used as a means to someone's end. Always someone's tool in a game. Carelessly thrown aside, once they had no longer use of him. He keeps it bottled up because, because he's Tony Stark. But he's always had this desire that one day someone would come who would stay because they wanted and needed him. He thought he had that with the Avengers, but after everything with the Accords and everyone leaving after Civil War that hope of having something of his to stay was gone.

Despite being burned constantly, Tony still has this wanting. So when Ryder, an old college friend, comes back into his life and actually seems to want to stay because he wants AND needs Tony, Tony is beyond thrilled. Because Ryder is staying. It doesn't matter if the bruises stay too.

But what happens when the Avengers return and Tony finds himself wondering once again exactly what he wants and what he needs.

Note: I’m sure, from the summary, you can tell that it’s a heartbreak here.

Hiding Things Is All Too Easy - Until It Isn't by audhds

Summary: Tony hasn't been the same since Bucky arrived at Stark Tower. That much is obvious. But Steve is overjoyed to have his best friend back and is somewhat oblivious to how Tony is withdrawing away from him. Because surely Tony is just overworked as usual. He must be quiet and jumpy because he is sleep deprived. And of course he has a few cuts and bruises on the visible parts of his skin - he fights and works for the Avengers as a living. It's part of the job description. Until it isn't.

Will Steve discover the physical and mental trauma that Tony is going through before it is too late?

Note: This is even heavier! Please read the tags carefully! Also, this has some serious Bucky bashing! If you are a Bucky fan but still interested in this, please prepare yourself.

No Trait As Much As This by KandiSheek

Summary: Tony gets hit with truth serum. It's a terrible time for everyone.

Note: A bit lighter than the others but still angst nonetheless. The added truth serum element makes this even more interesting!

Good For You by @orbingarrow

Summary: Steve doesn't understand why Tony dates people who abuse him. Tony doesn't understand why Steve cares.

The rest is bad choices, good choices, rehab, milkshakes, paintball, YouTube videos, couples therapy and learning to put the past in the past. Or: How Tony finds his happy ending.

Note: Another Tony-in-abusive-relationships fanfic!!

hold the things you wanna say by SailorChibi

Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay.

He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really.

What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always.

This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

Note: Anyone up for some Howard-travels-to-the-future fanfic?

Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies by MemoryDragon

Summary: Seven-year-old Tony Stark wakes up on a Hydra base, lost, afraid, and alone. He has to overcome his fears before it's too late for the Avengers and Captain America.

Note: De-aged Tony just screams heavy angst and hurt!

Advanced Protocol by masterlokisev159

Summary: The Incursions are coming. The Illuminati have surrendered and everyone has come together to take one last stand.

Everyone except Tony. And Steve is tired of waiting. He wants answers.

There's something the Illuminati aren't telling him.

Note: If you don’t know what the Avalon is in Marvel, I recommend you search it up, or you could read this fic. You will be heartbroken with what you find.

Flower Child by itsallAvengers

Summary: The point was this, though:

In a hundred million universes, in a hundred million different lives, there would never be a single one of them in which Tony Stark deserved anyone like Steve Rogers. Ever.

So this? Nonsensical.

Note: Another fanfic that highlights child abuse and Tony’s insecurities!

What Pays All Debts by KandiSheek

Summary: No one is supposed to survive the date written on their skin. And yet Tony's numbers keep piling up.

Note: Angst + Death dates? You could probably foretell how much of a gut-wrench journey this is.

Falling Into You by sabrecmc

Summary: Tony and Steve end up as fuck buddies after the events of The Winter Soldier until Steve calls it off. When Loki's spell wipes all of Steve's memories since the last time Loki was in town, Tony decides it will be so much easier to just not tell Steve they had something of a relationship. Spoiler: It isn't.

Or, how Steve fell in love with Tony and forgot about it, and how Tony fell in love with Steve and realized it.

Note: There are just something about amnesia fanfics that makes it so goddamn heartbreaking.

Art Freaks and Comic Geeks by Coil

Summary: Tony Stark had made himself a phenomenally renowned writer. The world had fallen in love with the heroes that appeared in his novels; captivated by his vivid words of life and colour.

His next ambition was to publish a comic book series starring the much-beloved heroes of his novels. There was just one problem. Brilliant as Tony may have been with his words, his skills in the field of drawing were less than great. It didn’t help that he barely knew what his characters ought to look like in the first place.

Enter: Mister Steve Rogers – an up-and-coming artist/illustrator with the potential to be brilliant.

Their paths happen to cross at Comic-Con.

Note: this is a much lighter angsty fanfic but is still angsty. It is a Modern AU mixed with Artist!Steve and Writer!Tony.

Unwritten Endings by XtaticPearl

Summary: Tony takes the bullet meant for Captain America at the end of their war and through his death, brings together the team again. Only, he isn't really dead and when he comes back, the equations between the team-mates begin to alter and reform, writing a new story altogether.

Note: Of course, you can’t have an angst fanfic rec without a fake death fanfic!

WIP

Need Is Just A Word by masterlokisev159

Summary: A month has gone by since the war and Tony has never felt more alone. of course, with the unrest within the government, the disappearance of the Avengers and the obvious lack of Steve Rogers, it was only a matter of time before the UN finally flipped out and decided to act on the last available Avenger. Too bad they didn't realise a promise had been made by Captain America to be there when Iron man needed him.

Note: a gut-wrenching Post CA:CW fanfic where tony is suffering the consequences of the civil war.

Take me out tonight by masterlokisev159

Summary: When Steve gets invited to a formal party with the government, Fury tells him he can bring a plus one of his choosing. While listening quietly in the corner, Tony heaves a sigh of relief because the team could really do with some positive publicity and any of the Avengers are a good choice for Steve. Tony just wants Steve to be happy after all, even if he knows Steve's gonna pick Natasha. He knows Steve doesn't like him and he's aware there's never going to be anything more between them. They're barely even friends really.

So of course he's absolutely shocked when a gold filigree letter rests in his palms two days later. He's the worst person for this.

Why on earth did Steve choose him?

Note: AHHHHHHHH, INSECURE TONY IS JUST A FAVORITE. Also, confident!Steve that knows who he wants is just a whole new mood!

The Soul Stone's Sacrifice by masterlokisev159

The soul stone demands a sacrifice that Tony and Steve are not prepared for, but in the end, one life is sacrificed for the many. Steve lets Tony go for the last time and mourns a future they never had.

That is until Tony comes back.

Note: A scenario where Tony and Steve where the ones to go to Vormir.

#stony #stony fic #stony fic rec #steve and tony #steve and tony fic #stony au #stony angst #superhusbands #stony fics #stony fanfiction

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jjuzoir · 3 years

Text

request: “hi! i saw reqs are open and you write for yttd so hi! this is my first time requesting but yttd deserves more hype 🥺 can you write about sou/shin who wants cuddles but his s/o (female or gn is fine) is as much as a workaholic as him, so they don’t give in to him and keep coding away on their computer? no pressure at all, thank you ☺️❤️” by

a/n: this was my first yttd request^^ i really like sou/shin as a character ;; (though i did end up saving kanna) his whole 0% chance and the midori/shin/sou twist was so good!! i really want to replay saving him instead of kanna^^

warning: spoilers for chapters 2 and 3 of YTTD;; also; jm sleep deprived and my mental state ?? nonexistent

word count: 1780

- You and Sou had met during the Death Game and had grown closer during the second floor, having spent most of your time trying to help Kanna and, in return, spending more time with Hiyori.

- At first, your relationship had been rocky— you had all woken up in a strange place and tasked with trying to survive, he was rather stubborn and kept you often times at an arm’s length but, with enough work on your part fueled by stubbornness and a desire to get to know the teal-haired man, you soon were able to get to know him better.

- Out of everyone in the game Hiyori and you were the closest, and Kanna of course too, and as much as Sou might’ve wished it didn’t happen, your relationship soon took a romantic turn. He still had moments of doubt, and a selfish part of him wishes he never cared about you, growing to care about anyone in a situation like this wasn’t smart, but he did.

- You were determined to find a way out, much like him, and were willing to pour your all into finding a way to escape the facility and Sou admired that about you, and so he decided he’d work hard to find a way for you two to escape no matter what.

- With both of your missions set out, it wasn’t surprising to say you both weren’t taking care of yourselves much; work, work, and more work needed to be done to find a way to escape and figure this whole thing out.

- Sou was good with computers and, much to his surprise, so were you; so both of you ended up dividing the work between each other. You’d normally work with the monitors near the price exchange stand while your boyfriend would spend most of his time in his room with Kai’s laptop.

- Your work felt endless, lines of code and numbers and letters; all becoming more jumbled as your eyes grew tired but you couldn’t give up; not only was your survival on the line but also of the ones you’d grown to care for, especially Kanna and Sou.

- You had spent hours typing away on the monitors trying to trace back a starting point or figuring out how to access them without having to spend any chips (much to the receptionist doll’s amusement). You knew you probably weren’t making much progress if he hadn’t gotten mad at you yet and that only grew to frustrate you more.

- Your fingers hurt from typing and clicking away in the small, cramped keyboard you’d found in the ruble— the fact Kai didn’t have an AI either only frustrated you more, if he’d had one maybe you could’ve learned more from him. You could only hope his AI was somewhere within the code, if he even had one.

- Determined to crack the code, you simply take the worn down laptop you’d been using and leave; no one had made a move to stop you, the floor master clearly didn’t care enough if you took it with you to bed. And so you do.

- It was getting late, Sou noted as he looked at the clock that hung from the gray walls in his room. You should’ve come by hours ago telling him about what you’d found— that’s what you’d always done at least.

- At the realization you weren’t coming, the teal-eyed man grew slightly concerned, maybe you had found out something Gashu or Ranger didn’t want you to and- no way, if he had come this far then you surely could too… right?

- He doesn’t realize he’s standing up and making his way to your room until he’s knocking on the door.

- He hears a grunt from the other side and takes it as a yes. He knew you well enough to know what you were doing but it still took him by surprise to see your hunched over figure typing away in the small, old laptop you’d found in the monitor room.

- He furrowed his eyebrows but didn’t move from his spot in the doorframe. He stared at your concentrated face and wondered if you’d always had this work ethic or if you were just worried about leaving the facility, were you a good worker before? He thinks of the past for a moment and feels his chest squeeze, if there was one good thing about this hellhole it was having met you, he thinks to himself.

- But still, the thought of a past where suffering wasn’t even imaginable has him wondering how your lives would’ve been, would you two have met? Could you two have been coworkers? Would everything align to make you lovers like it had now?

- At the thought, Sou found himself growing uncharacteristically soft. In the short time you two had been together you never really did anything, well, couple-y at all, due to the circumstances it wasn’t a shocker but he wanted to try changing that… he wanted to try being more affectionate with you.

- You still hadn’t noticed him standing in your door, so he decides to approach you. Quietly making his way near your desk, he places a hand in your shoulder and gives it a squeeze earning a shocked gasp and jump from you.

- “You should go to bed.” Sou mumbles to you from beneath his scarf.

- “Ah, Sou… you scared me!” You laugh off his comment, “I’m working right now but once I’m done I’ll go to sleep, don’t worry.”

- “It’s late, you shouldn’t even be thinking about coding right now.” He insists, if he was correct you’d been working on the laptop for 9 hours straight- as much as he admired your determination you needed to rest.

- You don’t even answer him back this time, busy typing away and scrolling through the seemingly endless rows of numbers and your boyfriend sighs and sits on the edge of your bed. If you continued like this you’d end up knocking yourself out- at least like this you’ll have someone to catch you.

- You don’t give his actions much thought; if he wanted to sit down and you type away on the computer then so be it; as long as he didn’t bother you. But bother he did, if there was one thing Sou could pride himself in other than his computer skills it was how annoying he could be if he really wanted to.

- “[Name]”, he groaned, “come to bed, just seeing you so busy gets me tired. Let’s cuddle, eh?”

- He wasn’t the most affectionate of all guys, you both knew that, it’s not that he didn’t want to be physically close with you but rather… he just didn’t feel like it. Maybe if he tempted you with hugs you’d be shocked and say yes?

- “Mhm, just a sec.” You don’t even look behind you when you speak, much to his dismay.

- “Come on! Don’t you want to be close with your boyfriend? It’ll be our first time sharing a bed! We’ll be close- you could be the small spoon or the big spoon I don’t care!”

- “Sou, please- I love you, but can you please just shut up for a second?”

- “Don’t be so cold!” He groaned, “Don’t you just want to, ya’ know~, spend some time with your boyfriend!”

- “I am spending time with you… now please just be quiet.”

- Sou was starting to get on your nerves with his endless chatter, so in return- you continued typing (quite aggressively).

- He went on for almost an hour, offering you hugs and kisses- basically anything as long as you stopped working and just went to bed. The more he tried convincing you with offers the more needy he grew, damn; he really, really wanted to cuddle you to sleep right now.

- You looked tired, your posture only worsening. Enough is enough, Hiyori thought, so he stood up and walked behind you and tapped your shoulder to get your attention.

- “Sou, I told you-!”

- Your words are cut short by him closing the laptop and grabbing your hand, leading you to bed with him.

- “Stop complaining, you’re going to work yourself to the bone.” He mutters, “and honestly? I don’t feel like dating a skeleton.”

- “Tch! Just let me finish this-!”

- “You said that like half an hour ago.” He says, he looks at you with worried eyes and you halt, “Don’t you know how late it is?” You look at the clock in your room; 2AM. You’d been working nonstop since midday…

- “Take your shoes off, we’re going to sleep- now.” He instructed you and you obliged, slowly blinking trying to adjust to the less intense light from the room as you slip off your shoes and get ready for bed.

- It was late… and your bed was looking more and more appealing. You finished taking your socks off and glance at your laptop. Once you’re done, you look down to meet teal-eyes looking at you expectantly. He pats the mattress, motioning you to lay beside him and, once again, you do. You’d scold him about shutting the laptop tomorrow… geez, had you been this tired a few minutes ago.

- A yawn escapes your mouth and Sou laughs; “I told you- you were tired.”

- He throws an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. Your face is pulled near his chest and he holds you like that for a while.

- You both say nothing as you rest, your head above his heart allowed you to be lulled into an even deeper rest. His hands rest on your back, his finger drumming as if he was typing away and you smile at the nonsensical rhythm.

- “You know, I didn’t really think cuddling with you would be this nice.” He comments, breaking the silence and earning a shove from you.

- “Screw you, Hiyori.” You laugh, “You're not so bad yourself.”

- The room is dark, the lights off, only your breaths can be heard. You take off his beanie, he only grumbles in response, so you could run your fingers through his hair.

- He giggles slightly, earning a tired smile from you. You wonder how different your relationship would be outside of the death game. There were times you forget you’re in constant danger, in moments like these- where you’re alone and calm, with Sou, it’s so easy to let your guard down, to forget about the severity of it all. You yawn once more, damn; you were tired.

- “You can sleep,” Sou mumbles, his voice rough with fatigue, “‘m gonna… sleep too”

- “Good night, Sou,” you peck his cheeks and, even in the dark light, you can see a slight blush glowing from his cheeks.

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kyber-queen · 4 years

Text

Like Real People Do (Rex x Reader) Pt. 3

Summary: Jedi!reader and Rex fall in love but are separated by the war. They meet again two years later, weeks before the Siege of Mandalore. In this chapter, Rex and Reader are prepping for a mission on an outer rim planet. Some fluff, slight angst, Rex gets to use a lightsaber because I say so. Italics signify a flashback in this fic.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Mentions of children/family planning ??, insecure Rex, k*sses, mentions of blasters n violence against droids, mentions of alcohol

Author’s Note: I’m not gonna lie this is probably my favorite chapter yet. It’s a little longer, but I think it’s worth it :) Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!!

Previous | Next

****************************************

After your less than satisfying encounter in the maintenance closet, you had made an early retirement to your quarters to sulk. You slept, but your dreams were ridden with visions of a certain bleach-blond captain. You awoke the next morning ill-rested and heartsick.

You showed up late to your first tactical meeting with the upper ranks of the 501st in a disgruntled mess of dark undereyes and wrinkled robes. If Rex noticed your sleep-deprived state, he made no mention of it. You had positioned yourself strategically in the back of the room, precisely so if you peeked between the admirals, you could clearly see Rex discussing troop formations with General Skywalker. His structured brow was furrowed, and you noted the way he gestured at the maps as he made his point. He was so much more confident now, so much more self-assured than that often-anxious shiny you remembered from training drills two years ago. Maybe that was why he gave you the cold shoulder yesterday—had he outgrown you? Two years was a long time, especially during a war. Did he find someone new? Your heart burned at the thought. You hadn’t even tried to move on—at times, at your lowest points, you considered it, but you never gave up on him. You had broken your code for him. You had broken it every day since you met him, and yet here he was, the picture of cordial indifference. You were attached, deeply and painfully. Did he still care about you?

“Commander, I can hear your gears turning—any input?” Skywalker looked at you expectantly.

You eased your tired features into a placating smile. “Looks good to me, General,”.

“Perfect. Rex, you’ll go with the commander. I want you two waiting just outside the village. The Separatists should arrive within around two hours of landing. Comm me when you see the Separatist forces coming, and you guys cut down as many of the first wave as possible. I’ll circle around with the rest of the 501st and we’ll finish off the rest from behind. All clear?”

You nod in assent as Rex answers with a decisive, “Yes, sir,”.

***

Rex was going to have to have a conversation with his general after this. Your very first mission with the 501st, and Skywalker had paired you with Rex on a glorified stakeout of all things. Rex was pissed. He had decided as soon as he found out you would be consulting with the 501st that he would keep his distance. He knew it wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t seen each other in years—war makes love near impossible. He was more upset with himself for falling for a Jedi. It was against the law for either of you to have an attachment to each other. Rex had fallen in love, and it was a stupid, shitty idea. He had spent the better part of two years trying to bury his memories of you, and just as he was beginning to succeed, here you were creeping back into his mind. Just the sight of you threw him back to two years ago—back when he was really, truly happy. Rex was built for war, nothing more. The problem with you was that being with you made him think otherwise. When you were together, you would always talk about ‘after the war’. Rex knew that as a clone, there really wouldn’t be an after. You, with your altruism and soft smiles and gentle touches were everything Rex didn’t need.

Rex walked to the pod that would take the pair of you to the Separatist-threatened planet. You were already seated. You thumbed the grip of your lightsaber, and Rex recognized the gesture—it was a habit whenever you were nervous. His eyes were locked on you, debating whether or not he should say something despite his earlier promise to not get involved. You broke the silence for him.

“I can feel you staring, Rex. Talk to me,”.

You could always tell what he was thinking. As your friendship first blossomed, it unnerved him, but as your paths intertwined more and more he found it a comfort to have you understand him so well without him even saying a word. Rex met your eyes, and his stomach clenched. You were still so beautiful. He looked away

“Just thinking about the campaign, sir,”.

Your heart ached. Every bone in your body was screaming, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you,” and yet he called you sir. He addressed you as a superior, another link in the chain of command. He really had moved on, hadn’t he? You bit your lip, the sharp pain of your teeth against the tender skin attempting to draw your attention away from your torturous thoughts. You had a mission to complete. You peeked out the porthole, and you saw the terrain approaching far faster than normal.

You landed with a crash. You were jostled from your seat, your head smacking the metal wall painfully. As the ringing in your skull crescendoed, you took stock of your darkened surroundings through your blurred vision. The lighting in the pod must have been damaged during your landing. You ignited your lightsaber, illuminating Rex with its soft glow. He stood up and rolled his shoulder experimentally, his nose scrunching in pain.

Your brows furrowed, “Are you alright?’

“I’m fine,” He grunted. He felt his way along the walls. “Exit’s been jammed shut, though,”

You searched his eyes in the dim lighting, another pang of longing reverberating through your chest. You dismissed the sensation and plunged your lightsaber into the wall of the pod, freeing yourselves. You emerged from the battered pod, your head pounding as your eyes adjusted. It was bright, with the triad suns beating down on you relentlessly. You checked your positioning system—you had landed a mere 15-minute walk from your stakeout site. You watched as Rex eased himself out of the pod. He groaned, his hand cradling his right arm. You handed him his positioning chip, and the two of you set off towards the village outskirts.

You noticed his hand lingered on his right shoulder, and he would grimace from time to time when it jostled. You reached your hand out to his plastoid-covered shoulder. “Rex, let me—”

“I’m fine,”.

His tone was sharp and dangerous, affecting you like a slap to the face. You sucked in a breath, and walked the rest of the path in silence. The planet was beautiful—you were surrounded on all sides by strange golden grasses that swayed with the breeze. Its beauty did nothing to distract you from the man by your side.

You arrived at the meeting point and immediately settled yourself against the large boulder meant as your cover. Rex sat across from you, leaning against a smaller rock. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes for a moment and swallowing thickly. You traced the sharp line of his jaw with your eyes, following down to the thick cords of muscle in his neck. You contemplated another attempt at offering him some bacta spray, but considering his earlier response, decided against it. When did Skywalker say the Separatists would arrive? Two hours?

You spent around an hour in silence. You meditated, as General Secura had taught you. Time moved thickly around you, your aura burning bright as it cut through the hours and seconds. With your deep focus came little flashes of memories.

You saw Rex, smiling. His golden skin was warm against the soft sheets. His thumb traced the apple of your cheek. You grinned.

“What do you want to do, Rex? After this is all over?”

He paused, his hand resting heavy on your jaw. “I don’t know, cyare. Guess I never really thought about it,”. His eyes flicked over your gentle smile and bright eyes. “I’d wanna be with you, though,” he whispered. You’re everything he could ever want. He’d never loved anything so much, and he knew he’d never love anyone else the way he loved you. What the hell did he do to deserve you? “What about you?”

“My parents—I barely remember them now—had a house on Naboo. We could live there, just us. No war, no fighting. It’s so beautiful there, Rex. The grass is long and tall—as a child, I’d play outside for hours just soaking up the sunlight. It’s a good place for raising children,”. Your face heated as you said the last part.

“Raising children, eh?” Rex tilted your chin, and you lifted your gaze to his eyes. You nodded slowly. “With me?” His eyes shone in the morning sunlight, his brow furrowed.

“Yes, Rex. Who else?” Rex’s expression eased, and you pressed your lips to each of his cheeks, followed by a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. Rex sighed contentedly. He had no clue why you were with a shiny like him—he was one of a million genetically and physically identical men. He was sure that eventually you’d realize just how much better you could do than a clone, but until that day he’d savor every precious moment with you.

“You’re gonna be a great parent, one day, cyar’ika,”.

“You will, too, Rex,”.

You jolted out of your trance. It was just your luck that Rex had infiltrated the one escape you had from your relentless thoughts of him. You opened your eyes to find him studying your face. He averted his gaze quickly.

“Rex,” you called.

He fiddled with the straps of his armor.

“Rex,”.

He dropped his hands to his sides with a harsh sigh. “Would you just stop it?”

You were stunned. “Rex, I—”

“I spent two fucking years trying to forget I ever loved you. I was nothing, I was nobody, and you were this—this ideal being. I had no fucking clue why you gave me the time of day, but I let myself fall for you anyway. When we left for our tours, I broke. You were the first real thing, the first good thing I ever had, and you were gone. I was sure I was gonna die over there—and you wouldn’t have even known if I had. It was so much easier to believe that you had moved on, that you were through with me. Now you’re here and you’re alive and I—” his voice broke, “I don’t know what to do,”. He met your gaze, and his eyes glistened. His voice was barely a whisper, “You were always the rational one. Please tell me what to do,”.

Your wide eyes watered. You turned your head to the golden fields and let out a tiny sob. What the hell do you answer to that? Just as you opened your mouth to speak, you spotted what seemed to be a thousand metal heads just over a rolling hill. The separatists. You hastily wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. This would have to wait.

“The Separatists are here,” your voice wavered more than you would have liked. “I’ll comm the General,”. You sniffed, rubbing your eyes again. Get it together, you thought. You were a Jedi Master, for gods’ sake. Ever since returning to Coruscant, you’d been an emotional trainwreck. You were starting to see why the council discouraged attachments.

You allowed Rex a moment to collect himself, turning to face the oncoming droids as the two of you prepared in silence. The metallic clang of their footsteps grew louder and louder. Rex slipped his helmet back on over his head and unholstered his blasters.

“It’s your call, Commander. When d’ya wanna go?”

You looked back over your shoulder at him, and you were instantly thrown back to the hours of training exercises you had completed together. You grinned.

“Think you can take down the battle tank over there?” You motioned to the gargantuan hunk of steel situated right in the middle of a sea of battle droids.

The competitive edge you had so dearly missed was back in Rex’s voice.

“You know I never miss,”.

“Race you there,”. And with that, you were off. The two of you flew down the hill, cutting down the droids as if they were made of straw. You swung, decapitating a droid and ducking as Rex put a blaster hole through the one taking aim at you from behind. You worked well together, always did. The rest of the 501st seemed to be making easy work of the droids from behind.

“Rex, blaster!”

Rex tossed one of his blasters into the air, and you force-pulled it into your grasp in an instant. You fired off three quick shots at one of the tanks, damaging the traction treads. Rex looked over at the tank, and recognized the maneuver you had initiated in an instant. He took off for the tank, and called your name once he was just yards from its base.

“Saber!”

You switched off your saber and hurled it in Rex’s direction. He had barreled past at least ten lines of troops, snatching your lightsaber from the air before igniting it and plunging it into the battle tank’s generator while simultaneously firing off a few rapid shots at the droids. The droids’ main attention, as planned, was on you, and you were beginning to feel the heat. You force-pulled your lightsaber, still ignited, from Rex’s grasp and into a line of battle droids before its heavy weight met your palm again.

“Blaster!”

You tossed Rex his blaster, and he caught it with ease. With your lightsaber in hand, you began cutting a path to Rex, who had holed up against the decommissioned tank.

“Need to get me one of those,” Rex motioned to your lightsaber with a grin.

You shook your head with a laugh, deflecting a blaster shot as Rex took aim at the next line of droids.

It was your fault. You got distracted. Something about the focus in Rex’s masked stare as he picked off the droids one-by-one pulled your attention away just long enough for one of the droids to press the cool metal of its blaster against your neck. Before you could react, Rex fired two quick shots into its head.

“Told you, cyare, I never miss,”.

You missed this. The nicknames, the banter, working together like this. It felt good. It felt like coming home. You snuck one last glance at Rex before sprinting out from your cover to cut down the next row of droids.

Rex was fucked. Did you realize he called you cyare? It just slipped out—something about being here with you, fighting next to you—it brought him back to two years ago. He shook his head, firing at a droid that had pointed its blaster at you. He was done with pretending he didn’t care. He still had no idea what to do, or where this would go, but he could figure that out later.

You finished off the last droid, looking back at Rex with an easy smile before waving to General Skywalker. Rex jogged over to you, pulling you back behind the tank and away from the prying eyes of the rest of the 501st.

“Rex, wha—”

He ripped off his helmet, letting it fall to the ground as he pulled you into a kiss. His hand fell to the small of your back, and you practically collapsed into him. His lips were hungry against yours—he was all tongue and teeth and desperation. He needed this. You needed this. You raked your nails through his close-cropped hair, drawing a little groan from deep in his chest. His hands were everywhere—your hair, your neck, your waist—

“Rex, where are you? Are you injured?”

For the second time today, Rex was going to kill his general. He pulled away from you reluctantly, his hand lingering on your waist. You take his hand, and press your lips to his palm.

“We should go,”. Rex nods. “Meet me in my quarters tonight—you still like firewhiskey?”

“Rex—are you over here?”

You meet Rex’s eyes, and he smiles. A real smile. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“See you tonight,”.

********************************************

Like Real People Do Taglist: @pinkiemme @callme-eds @dinpoe

#captain rex #captain rex x y/n #ct 7567 #commander rex #rex x you #the clones #the 501st #rex x reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #the clone wars

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lideria · 4 years

Text

Get to Know. | YangYang

Request: hiiiii ! i was wondering if it was possible to ask for a fluffy yangyang shows y/n around his hometown? sorry if that isn’t specific enough :( you have full creators freedom thank u so much ❤️

Author’s Note: So this is what it is, I tried my best, I swear I did. This was a concept I had never written before because usually I don’t.. write very descriptive things.. which is where things like this fall in- but I took on the challenge heheh On another note, this piece was cut in half as I haven’t been all too emotionally stable these past 3 days, so my apologies if this isn’t as good as what you hoped for. (And I know I have this excuse often, not being emotionally stable, but my condition really challenges me every single day and writing is the only thing that helps me forget about it a little, so please bear with me.)

Warnings: I THINK NONE? I guess if you’re German this might be like.. a bit weird. Mostly descriptive. There might be not-too-accurate representations, definitely contact me if you think something needs to be changed. Plus, English is my second language so there might be errors.

Word Count: 2.418 short-ish but long-ish

Genre: Fluff and literally nothing else

Hope you all enjoy, and I hope you all have a great time 💚 Stay safe, healthy, and happy xx

“You know what people say you should do if you wanna get to know your partner better?” YangYang asks you one night as you lounge on the bed together, looking at your phones, hardly speaking— waiting for the sleepy mood to come and hit you both so you could go to sleep. His voice sounds nowhere near tired, unlike you, whose eyes are barely open. “Mm I don’t know.” You mumble, even though you had not heard what the answer was to the question.

“Getting stuck in traffic or traveling together.” Answering the question for you, he turns his face towards yours to be met with your profile. Maybe only a quarter of your profile since your head was covered with the hood of your hoodie. “Neither of us has a car,” He adds brightly.

The words start to make sense only after a questionable silence. When you do, a feeling of surprise washes over you as you turn to face him as well. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Oh I don’t know,” The words leave him in a rush with a chuckle as if he is trying to laugh it off. But he is not, because he keeps speaking. “But I definitely don’t mean that we should rent a car when we could fly if you know what I mean.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, getting under the blanket and putting your phone aside. “Just go to sleep.”

To your horror, YangYang had been serious about his quick little fact check.

In two weeks’ time, he had barged into your apartment holding two plane tickets with a smile so wide on his face. Not only that, but he had told you to clear out your schedule for the upcoming break— because he would be taking you around anywhere and everywhere he had on his mind (and truthfully, anywhere and everywhere your budgets would allow for you to visit).

The concept came with its multiple ups and downs. Ups, you would be visiting four countries in four weeks without that much strain on your wallets and would have the chance to see places you have always wanted to; downs, most of the flights being layovers of all sorts so the prices would not have a great impact to your finances. And then there was a grey area, which held the fact that two of these countries were ones YangYang had lived in before.

There was nothing wrong with visiting places he had lived in before. This would give you an incredible chance of getting closer to him— perhaps on a level you would not quite be able to reach without doing exactly what you were about to do. It would provide a crystal clear window into his life before you, something more clear than his words probably ever could be. However, the idea still made you feel nervous to some extent. Most likely because of its intimate background, you felt like the magic of it could crumble with one wrong move.

But you do not give into that feeling. Having fun is the least you could do. Not that you have much other choice, anyway. Because YangYang, with lack of a better word, is an actual toddler about this whole ordeal.

The morning of your first flight that leaves to Taiwan, he meets you at the subway station you had agreed on with an excited smile on his face. One that does not falter even though the rain is about to soak him, and even when you pull him under your umbrella as you mutter if he is asking to get sick from the first second.

You share your earphones on the long ride to the airport. Checking in comes and goes in a blink of your eyes, but you barely make your way to the gates in time after spending way too much time in the food court and the duty free shops.

The plane is gigantic and crowded, which makes sense considering YangYang had said he could hardly find seats beside one another while purchasing the tickets. You get the aisle seat and he gets the middle— which would have been perfectly fine if the middle aged man sitting in the window seat did not keep excusing himself to the lavatory every other minute. Thankfully the flight is a relatively short one and not a red-eye because if it had been you are certain both of you would have lost your minds while cuddled up to each other over the armrest.

Taiwan is fun. YangYang takes you around everywhere he could remember spending time in, which does not end up being that many since he had only been a child while he lived here. He takes you to the ‘cliché’ tourist attractions (as he had quoted) around the island such as the temples and museums and the remnants of the Dutch colonization, and to the places that his mother suggests him take you that are more on the natural side, like geysers. You get to see the beautiful beaches and the parks and the people, more often than not walking around with their pets, the beautiful campuses and the nature, people riding around in their bikes and the crowds commuting on foot. The two of you take photographs, some only of sceneries, some you take of him and he takes of you, and some he kindly asks strangers of any age to take of you as a couple.

You do not dare to tell him, but his tourist-guide-like antics of teaching you about the history and trying to figure out exactly where you will go at what time is extremely cute to you because you love it. You love that he gets so serious about where he is from and wants to share every bit of it with you.

As per your traveling habits you pick up several souvenirs and get some of your favorite photographs printed, which end up being from the Dragon and Tiger Pagodas you had taken on a foggy day— something YangYang says the both of you could play with the colors and lighting of before printing. The two of you like to edit pictures, especially together, after realizing (early on in your relationship) that neither of you are that good in photography but are interested in it, at which point you took on a challenge to do better with each other’s support.

YangYang makes you eat the local food, which is one of your favorite parts about the whole time you spend there, and he does not hesitate to make you try things that you probably would not have tried if you were traveling alone. You end up falling in love with the food and the various teas this island has to offer, only maybe not the Chodofu.

A week in Taiwan goes by really fast that by the time you have to leave, you do not realize that you had ever even been there. It all feels like a dream and a part of you feels emotional; the two of you had been so extremely happy in Taiwan that staying there for longer really would not have bothered you, if it was not for your schedules.

“We have to come back,” You tell YangYang as you lean your head on his shoulder at the gate, waiting for your overnight flight’s boarding to start. He chuckles airily at your sleep deprived voice, making your head bounce a little. “You like it here?”

“I love it here.” The answer makes his smile widen. “Great weather and great people. And great surroundings.”

“Eh, I don’t know about great weather. I’d prefer it to be dry but that’s not something we could have in these months.” Shaking your head on his shoulder, you ignore what he says. “You’re just being ungrateful,” You say matter-of-factly, but he knows you are joking. “What more can you ask for when you have this many great things? You had me too.”

He plants a kiss in your hair after a moment’s pause, and mumbles. “You’re right.”

YangYang and you had tried to organize your trip in a way it would make sense, really. The two of you had looked at flight routes to determine where the other two countries you would visit could be, but the flight routes were mostly over Russia— so unless you wanted a tour of southern Russia you would have to hold off. And although the idea of Central Asia and Russia also interested you, the flight tickets would be expensive, when they would be much cheaper from Seoul. So in the end, the route became a zigzag of countries of your shared interests before flying over to Düsseldorf, the last destination of your trip.

The two countries in the midst of your trip had been a daze, most probably they were new experiences for both of you rather than only one of you. Most days you found yourselves to be extremely exhausted from getting lost countless times and in turn walking around so much, and from the language barrier that sometimes troubled you, and just getting to know whole new cultures. Not only getting to know them, but also adapting to them in the short period that you are there.

Sometimes there were instances where one of you were feeling more spent than the other, and in those instances you hyped each other up— by persuasion of food, music, affection, or other things— and in a few instances downright jumping on whoever’s lying on the bed and bear-hugging them until the subject had no choice but to get up.

Yet, two weeks pass by quickly with the density of your packed schedule and before you know it, you land in Düsseldorf airport.

And something in YangYang changes immediately.

As you pass through immigration and buy tickets to go on public transportation he looks more relaxed and in his element, like how he had been in Taiwan, yet somehow different. He actually knew the location of your Airbnb for starters, which gives you an immediate grounding and reminds you that this is the place of the better part of his rememberable childhood and adolescence.

When he takes the keys and speaks German to the house owner like it was the most normal thing he could ever do, it awes you, because yes you had known about his life in Germany but you did not see him speak German all that much. So it is wonderful to you that he can speak so many languages fluently (with a few mix-ups in between).

His behavior changes the feel of the trip as well. The way he is so laid back makes the days in Düsseldorf feel, well, daily. As if you had been living there with him. Because YangYang knows exactly where to take you this time, not counting the tourist attractions or other wonders.

In that city he knows where he should take you for a fun session of thrift shopping, making sure to take you to his favorite places, and his favorite restaurants. He actually runs into people, which is mind blowing. You encourage him to meet up with his friends and forget about just taking you to places at some point, which makes him really happy that you would even think of that, and he does what you say.

YangYang introduces you to his friends, most of whom can speak English since he had gone to an international school before, and the feeling of inclusivity warms your heart. By getting to know his friends here you feel even closer to him after seeing his home country and now, for the lack of a better word, his hometown. You get to see the way he laughs when he is here, you get to see his emotional changes, and how his thought process changes, and how his behavior changes. Although everything changes he is still YangYang— still him who makes witty jokes, who likes laughing all around, who likes jumping his leg up and down to the rhythm of the songs, who is a people pleaser and a mood maker.

And it makes you fall for him even more, if it is even possible. Perhaps what he had said before the trip started, getting to know your partner better because of traveling, was true. And in all honesty you wanted to travel more with him; run through the crowded airports in search of wherever your gate is, buy even more small jars of Nutella from duty free shops so you could taste test them to see the variations in the flavor and decide which country’s is the ultimate winner, sleep on the uncomfortable floor with your heads on your backpacks— anything. As long as the two of you get to be this happy together.

One sunny day in Düsseldorf around a couple days before your departure, after gathering even more souvenirs for your collection and he takes you to his favorite place that served fries (which, in Düsseldorf, there were a lot of those), he stops abruptly on the street after hearing the sound of the music.

He urges you to hurry up with his hand as his eyes widen and he skips in his place a little, and you do, walking to the source of the music and stopping when he stops right behind a crowd. You both can still see the middle, where a group of people maybe your age or maybe a couple years younger, are dancing.

“Why did we stop by here?” You ask. You cannot recognize the song and you are almost sure it is not in any of YangYang’s playlists, so you are genuinely curious.

YangYang laughs with what must be longing. “This is where I used to dance,” He does not look at you, eyes fixed on the group that kept dancing on with some handwritten signs and big speakers behind them, eyeing the white square that surrounded them. The square for street performers. Dancers, singers, anybody— but there was an unwritten pact for the days of the week on what kind of performer would be taking it and who, through endless group chat conversations of local artists.

He takes your hand into his and laces your fingers together without prying his eyes away, with you looking at his ever so bright face, one that you got to see for the first time. “Where everything started for me.”

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #yangyang #liu yangyang #this kinda sucks but i'm trying to be at peace with it #i visited düsseldorf once since i have family there but that was years ago and what i have seen #might not have stayed the same #and for taiwan i literally..#watched travel vlogs #i hope this is okay #aaaaaaaa #but the joana ceddia aaaaaaa #yeah i'm going to sleep

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rynhaswritersblock · 4 years

Text

the benefits of fake dating | p.p.

summary: although incredibly annoying, flash thompson’s arrogance was just what you and peter needed.

warnings: some cussing, flash being an idiot, and 5K WORDS I POPPED OFF SO HARD

+ + +

"Flash, I don't know how you got into this school with that pea-sized, misogynistic brain of yours, but somehow it still leads you to think that you telling me how I feel is attractive. Just fuck off, please," you sigh, shutting your locker with a bang.

"Alright, for now," the boy says, smug smirk on his face. "although I know you're just denying your undying love for me. I'll wait."

Your eyebrows furrow. "Did you not hear a single word I just said?"

"Nope," a new voice pops in and you turn to see Peter, words and expression monotonous as he stares at Flash.

"Aw, and the protector swoops in to save the day. Aren't you two a cute couple?"

"Oh-" the two of you blurt at the same time.

"We're not-"

"a couple," Peter finishes for you, roses blooming on you guys' cheeks.

"It's the only explanation for little Y/N's 'disinterest'. See you later, babe," Flash nods, walking off with a wink that only bewilders you more. You and Peter look at each other.

"Did he just call me babe?"

"Apparently," Peter shrugs.

Peter should be in theatre considering the acting he does around you. It enrages him to see such a jackass bother you constantly, and the pet names only make him even angrier. If it wouldn't ruin his hero image, he'd totally wipe Flash out during one of his patrols.

"I swear, that kid makes me question things I shouldn't have to even worry about. For example, why isn't part of the requirements for getting into this school common sense?" you ask, shaking your head.

"No clue," Peter sighs. "Sorry to cut this off, but I gotta go to-"

"Physics now, yup. See you later, shithead." you nod, shoving him the other way, laughing as he almost crashes into the cheerleaders.

You resume your way to AP Calc, letting your mind inevitably fall back into your conversation with Flash. Every freaking time Peter steps in, he immediately calls him your boyfriend. But, honestly, the thought of that didn't sound too bad.

+ + +

"MJ, you're not helping."

"All I'm saying is: you tell Flash he's your boyfriend, he leaves you alone. In addition, dating Parker doesn't seem so bad, especially to you, right?"

"MJ!" you groan, falling back onto the pillows of your bed. "It's fake dating. It's not like we'd..."

You suck in a breath.

"It's not like we'd actually date."

"Yeah," she scoffs, "tell that to the prolonged hesitation in the middle of that sentence."

Goosebumps ran across your skin at the gust of cool midnight air that rushed through your window, but you didn't bother close it. You were too comfortable.

"Whatever, MJ. I'm just saying, if Flash and the rest of the school thought we were dating, not only would that jackass leave us alone, but everyone else would. And maybe even Tony and the rest of the team."

And it was at that point that Peter, donned in his Spider Suit, landed on your fire escape. You didn't notice though, too preoccupied in your conversation with MJ to change your focus. He peeked through the window, the words "fake dating" immediately making him spin around against the brick wall, telling Karen to project your conversation to him.

"Imagine having the Avengers ship you with your partner in crime. Couldn't be me."

"MJ," you groan, "It's not like they actually think Peter and I like each other."

The boy's eyes widen.

"They just saw the opportunity and took it. We're each other's age and work well together. Seems like an easy target to me. Plus, they were probably getting tired of making fun of Nat and Bruce," you explain.

A small pain rips through Peter's heart. Even though he didn't act like it, he loved the way everyone acted like they were dating. It made him feel like it was real.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself to get you to believe it, Y/N. But seriously, I don't see anything bad coming out of a fake relationship with Peter Parker," MJ states. You can practically see her shrugging smugly right now.

"Well," you say, firing up, "something bad that could come out of a fake relationship with Peter Parker-"

The poor boy outside, already looking stupid and stalker-ish, becomes even more flustered.

"- is that I could lose control of the feelings I already have, MJ. Do you realize how much that would mess up our friendship?"

Your words sting like icy-hot. On one hand, it sucks to Peter that you sound totally opposed to a relationship with him, but on the other hand, he's now 99% sure that you like him too.

He couldn't bare standing there any more. He swung home, all-consumed by his thoughts.

It would be a long night for Peter Parker.

+ + +

The bags underneath Peter's eyes were enough of an example of his insomnia last night. As if his brain didn't already love to overthink, the conversation he eavesdropped last night was enough to send him into overdrive, going over possibilities, how the two of you'd act, and just the very concept of fake dating itself.

Little did he notice, you shared the same look of under-eye bags (which you failed to cover with concealer), kept up by the same conversation.

The two of you were, obliviously, on the same page. You both thought that it was a pretty smart solution to the dilemma, but both were terrified of confrontation.

For being Avengers, the two of you sure were cowards when it came to love.

The school day passed quickly and slowly at the same time, the two of you fighting to stay awake as your history teacher rambled on and on about the Sokovia Accords. It was a Thursday, so the two of you kept your weekly plans to hangout at Peter's after school to study and just hangout. Needless to say, you two almost failed to miss your stop on the subway due to your sleep deprivation.

You enter the apartment, immediately greeted by May.

"Hi, you two," she smiles, grabbing her keys off the counter and swinging her purse over her shoulder as she talks. "I have a shift in a few minutes, so you'll be on your own, but I trust you."

"Thanks," you smile.

"Of cour-" she frowns. "Y/N, did you sleep at all last night?"

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and cringe. "What? Oh, yeah, I did, I'm just... stressed, is all."

"Okay.." she eyes you, half-playful, half-serious.

"She's fine, May," Peter nods, which eventually eases the woman.

"Okay, fine. Don't keep her here too long, Peter, you both need some rest."

You give him a look and the two of you say goodbye to her before you go to his room. You eye him closely.

"Peter!"

He jumps. "Goodness, what?"

"Why do you have bags under your eyes?" you furrow your brows.

"I should be asking you the same thing," he huffs.

His attitude catches you off guard. "I asked first," you retort.

"Okay, okay, fine. I couldn't sleep."

Well, that was slightly underwhelming. "Why not?"

"I was... thinking about stuff," Peter shrugs. "not that big a deal."

"What stuff?"

A sigh of exhaustion and desperation falls from his lips as he shuffles through his bag, not looking for anything in particular, but rather a distraction. You clear your throat and hear his breath hitch.

"Do you want to date?"

Whoa there.

...

What the fuck?

The breath catches in your throat before your voices finally regains itself, a bit louder than you meant it to be. "What?!"

"No-" he sputters, eyes wide, "Like, fake date."

By some force of nature, his correction of fake dating surprises you more than just straight-up asking you to date him. Your mind becomes invaded by thoughts; questions about how he thought of that and oh shoot did he hear me last night? You sit down on his bed.

Silence fills the room that sends Peter into a thought spiral similar to your own, just about to make him break into a nervous sweat before you pipe up.

"Did you hear me last night?"

His chocolate eyes widen.

"You heard my call with MJ, didn't you?"

"How.. how would I even do that?" he stutters, rubbing the back of his neck with the hint of a crooked smile. You give him a look and he sighs. "Okay... maybe when I was on my way home from patrol I stopped on your fire escape, and maybe when I was about to come in through the window I heard you say my name, and just maybe that made me hide and listen to the rest of your conversation. And maybe I got Karen to hack into the call so I could hear it."

You shoot up from his bed excitedly, "Gotcha!"

"Whatever," he jumps back, startled, but with a smile.

You raise an eyebrow at him and plop back down on the bed, letting your back fall against the mattress. Peter marvels at how your hair is sprawled across the mattress before he, too, lays down next to you with a thud, making you laugh.

"So, fake dating, huh?" you tease.

"You're the one who came up with the idea in the first place!" he scoffs. A huff falls from your lips and Peter looks over at you. "Do you actually wanna do this?"

You shift your head to look at him. You feel that familiar feeling of the tingling in your stomach; the butterflies fluttering, the fireworks going off. Still, you hide it. "Eh, why not?"

The two of you sit up on the bed, legs criss-crossed and your foreheads less than a foot apart. Words began to fill the air as the two of you devised an intricate plan to fool everyone- well, except for MJ. And maybe May.

You came up with a set of rules:

1. No exposing yourselves to the public (duh) 2. Make it seem AUTHENTIC (hand-holding, nick-names, kisses on the cheek) 3. Go to and from school together 4. ONLY kiss on the lips if put under pressure and make it QUICK! 5. Love letters (????)

These were all scribbled on a scrap piece of paper from your journal, donned in your messy yet legible handwriting.

The whole process of coming up with this was a bit weird for the two of you. On one hand, you were super awkward with romance; your dream relationship was one where you could make fun of each other and laugh at rom-coms. On the other hand, as much as he hated to admit it, Peter Parker was a hopeless romantic. He wanted to be able to show you off and make you smile. Hence, rule #5.

He'd seen Instagram posts with clips of To All The Boys I've Loved Before. And, although he knew that movie didn't make sense to you, he found the idea of writing you love letters every day an incredibly good tactic to get you to fall in love with him.

Because, let's be honest, a huge reason that he was doing this was in hopes that just maybe the two of you would actually date. For real.

Little did he know, you felt the exact same way.

With a sigh, you folded up the scrap paper and handed it to him, getting a puzzled look in return.

"What?" you ask. "If anything, you're the one who's gonna mess up about this."

He perks up, an offended look painted on his face. "How would I possibly do that?"

"I don't know, you'd probably accidentally let it slip that this isn't real-"

Ouch.

"- or go too far with it. I've seen the look in your eyes whenever we watch rom-coms, Petey." you raise an eyebrow.

Jeez. Not only did you hit him with the already incredibly enforced friendzone (again), but you called him out for his love of rom-coms and called him Petey, a nickname that pulled at his heartstrings every time.

Guess he'd be hearing that name a lot more now.

He scoffs and shakes his head. "Whatever."

The paper crinkles as he unfolds it, scanning over the list one more time.

2. Make it seem AUTHENTIC

Hmm.

"Y/N?"

You hum.

"How are we gonna make it seem authentic if you can't even hear the word 'babe' without making a face?" he asks.

"Yeah, that's a good question. Maybe we should... practice?"

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you cringe. A crooked, smug grin tugs at Peter's lips and you scold him, only getting a boyish laugh in return before he pounces onto you, teasing you with lovey-dovey words and tickling you.

"PETER I WILL NOT HESITATE TO SEND A POWER BLAST RIGHT INTO YOUR CHEST RIGHT NOW!"

Your words make him freeze and he hovers above you, chocolate curls hanging over his forehead as the two of you pant, slight smiles on your lips. You raise a brow.

There go the butterflies again.

Peter's eyes light up and he plops down beside you, beginning to wrap his arms around you. You slap his wrist.

"What?" he asks accusingly.

"I should be the one asking that! What do you think you're doing?" you question, slightly bewildered.

"Jeez, Y/N, I'm trying to cuddle with you."

His blunt words practically knock the air out of your lungs, but you and your stubbornness refuse to let that happen. You relax slightly at way his eyes give you a look of "just let me do this" and you give him a small sigh and nod of approval.

Peter tries to hide his happiness and content as he turns onto his side, turning you with him. His arms wrap around your waist gently and pull your back to his stomach, lacing your fingers together.

As much as you hated to admit it, this was nice.

And it was especially nice when you felt him bury his face in the crook of your neck, letting out a relaxed sigh.

A few minutes pass and you lay there, eyelids getting heavier by the second.

"Pete?"

He hums.

"Are we supposed to fall asleep?"

He shifts, opening his eyes drearily. "Yeah, that's kinda the point."

"Alright, dumbass, I was just checking," you say with a smile, pausing for a moment. "Okay, my turn."

Peter furrows his brows at your words before he feels you shift in his arms, turning to face him and settling into his chest. He lets out a soft hum that makes you scrunch your face with a smile, feeling him pull you closer and entangle his legs with yours.

So, who's the one that made Peter Parker a god at cuddling?

You ignore your thoughts and eventually let sleep pull you in, relaxed by the soft breaths of the boy you were so close to- not just as best friends, but now physically.

When May got home late that night, she walked into her nephew's room to catch the sight of you two, having to slap a hand over her mouth to keep from letting out an excited yelp.

Naturally, she left the room with at least fifty pictures of the two of you.

+ + +

Despite the deepest sleep you two had ever had, your restfulness was broken within a split second by the piercing noise of Peter's alarm. You shoot up, eyes wide, only to be dragged back down by Peter's strong grip.

"Peter!" you yell.

"What?" he muffles into your hair, pulling you closer.

No time to fall into that. No matter how hard you want to.

"It's morning!" you exclaim, finally receiving the reaction you expected.

The boy practically flies up, expression matching yours. His eyes shift over to the clock, which, although inanimate, makes him jump out of the bed and begin hunting around his room.

"May!" he yells.

You snatch your bag and begin rummaging through it for your phone when Peter's door busts open, a very tired-looking May appearing in the doorway.

"Peter, what is it?" she pants, messy hair correlating with her exasperated expression.

"You let us fall asleep!" he exclaims, running his fingers through his hair.

Which- not that you notice- somehow looks even better in the morning. You completely ignore how its normally styled chocolate curls have gone wild and how it makes him even more attractive to you.

Yup. Totally ignored.

"Oh, honey," May sighs, a tired smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, "I called Y/N's mom last night to let her know she was sleeping over. I couldn't stand to wake you two up, especially considering the position you were in."

You whirl around to look at her, cheeks bright red as she wiggles her eyebrows playfully.

"May," Peter groans.

She laughs. "Not sorry!"

The door shuts and you two let out a collective sigh. You begin putting your bag together, feeling a bit out of place. The sounds of ruffling in the background makes you furrow your eyebrows.

"Pete, what are you doing?"

"Oh, uh," he turns from his dresser, shirt in hand. "I didn't think you'd want to go to school in the same stuff you wore yesterday."

Your breath hitches as he tosses you a t-shirt with a science pun on it. Classic.

You hum, smirking.

"Thanks, babe."

His expression is priceless.

"What? Might as well get practicing now," you shrug innocently.

Peter lets out a small laugh and the two of you resume with your routine, leaving the apartment with lunches from May and intertwined hands.

And, in addition, a sweatshirt from Peter that smelled just like him.

The two of you walk to school, sharing headphones and getting mildly surprised looks from the other daily commuters on the subway, surely pondering about how the quiet schoolboy from Queens was holding hands with a new mystery girl.

The looks only amplify once the two of you step onto campus.

Your hands are sweaty, fingers having been locked together for a solid twenty to thirty minutes. Still, it's easy to ignore when suddenly you're getting looks from mutual classmates whose gazes now have a weird magnetic pull to your hands. The two of you are mere inches away from your locker before MJ veers in front of you, smirking and clearly satisfied.

"Looks like the idiots finally got their heads out of their asses," she smiles.

"Michelle."

Her eyebrows raise in (impressed) surprise. You never call her Michelle.

"Fine, whatever, I know what's up," she shrugs.

Peter squeezes your hand reassuringly, a silent message of "everything's okay."

"However-"

Oh boy.

"Let's not waste time pretending you both don't want this to be real."

"MJ-" Peter blurts, pleading in his voice.

Right in time for Flash Thompson to enter the scene. Both MJ and Peter can practically hear your annoyed groan at his presence.

"I'll take that as my leave," the curly-haired girl winks before she beelines the other way.

"And that'll be my entrance," Flash smirks. "Parker, I see you've taken the whole protection thing up another notch?"

You practically feel the boy next to you puff his chest up in pride (whether it was fake or not was beyond you). "Well, as her- um- boyfriend, I'm pretty sure it would be a problem if I didn't stand up for Y/N."

You look up at him, smirk on your face. Maybe you were a little peeved at the idea of having to have a boy stand up for you, but you'd let it slide in this situation.

"Boyfriend, huh?" Flash asks, a hint of confusion written in his expression that you pick up on immediately.

"Boyfriend," you nod firmly.

God, if you and Peter were alone right now you'd totally intimidate him to get rid of his rising ego.

"Well then. If the two of you are dating, why don't you kiss her, Parker?"

Or Flash can do that for you.

You look over to see his cheeks bright red. He stutters for a second before Flash raises an eyebrow, prompting Peter to lean over and plant a quick kiss on your cheek.

There.

"On the lips, dumbass."

Nevermind.

"I... uh," Peter chokes out. He's not the only flustered one anymore.

"Oh, don't be a wuss, Parker. Just give Y/N a kiss or I'll do it," Flash smirks.

Whoa there, bud.

You squeeze Peter's hand both anxiously and reassuringly, frantically trying to silently tell him to just do it. Thankfully, he gets the message, taking a deep breath and turning to face you, fingers still loosely intertwined. You give him a slight nod and he slowly leans down, minty breath lightly fanning over your lips before a loud yell erupts in the hallway, making you two jump, as well as everyone around you.

"Eugene Thompson!"

You two, free-handed (which feels refreshing), look up to see Principal Morita speeding over to the boy in front of you.

"You're coming with me," he mutters angrily, grabbing a spluttering Flash by the wrist and dragging him down the hallway.

Grateful smiles bloom on you and Peter's faces and you laugh, resting your head on his chest.

"This isn't the end of this!" Flash shouts, pointing back at you two.

"Yeah, okay, Flash!" Peter yells back, donning a boyish grin. He speaks again, whispering, "What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know," you mutter, resting your head on his shoulder and smiling as he wraps his arms around you softly. "Jeez, cuddlebug."

Peter's face burns at the nickname, but he smiles, drawing circles on your back with his thumb.

"Whatever," he murmurs. "We're definitely not bad at PDA, though."

He got that right.

+ + +

You had everyone fooled.

The news spread quick, to both the school and the Avengers team.

You and Peter became relationship experts, holding hands in the hall, giving the other occasional cheek kisses, following all the rules you two had layed out.

Essentially, you both were living out your dream relationship.

You'd both be lying if you said you weren't trying to somehow make the other fall in love in hopes that the relationship would turn into a real one. You both went the extra mile- in your own ways. You'd make sure to give him plenty of kisses on the cheek- which he'd return- and call him Petey, all while wearing his clothes and using TikTok videos to guide your way (hehe). Peter would take extra thought into every word he wrote in his love letters and made sure to keep them interesting, writing them on leftover bags, old notes, or gum wrappers.

You open your locker, alone for the first time today after spending every second possible with Peter and talking to friends about your "relationship." A small, folded piece of notebook paper flutters to the ground and your face lights up, realizing it was your first letter from Peter. You unfold the paper with a smirk on your face.

"My favorite element is Uranium because I'm in love with U.

- Peter ;)"

The air in your lungs flies out. Of course he'd use a nerdy pickup line, but god, if it didn't make your stomach flutter.

"Hey."

You spin around.

"Speak of the devil," you say, waving the paper in the air.

He lightly smiles. "Was it good?"

"Are you made of Copper and Tellurium? 'Cause you're Cu-Te," you respond, getting a confused look from Peter before he's struck with realization.

"Nice."

"I know."

It almost made you want to write notes to him, but you'd figure you'd find a better idea rather than steal his.

The two of you walked into the Avengers Headquarters, fingers intertwined (as always).

"Well, well, well," Sam says, shifting his gaze from the TV over to the two of you.

The group was split in half when you and Peter announced the "news" about your relationship. One half was immediately ecstatic, running up to you with bright smiles on their faces and asking hurriedly about details. Opposingly, the other half didn't buy it one bit. When they heard the news, they gave each other wary looks and analyzed the two of you.

"Hi, guys," Peter greets, giving your hand a slight squeeze of anticipation.

"What on Earth-"

Tony is cut off by the sound of squeals from Wanda, Bucky, and Bruce, the group eagerly running to you with the biggest smiles you'd ever seen.

"FINALLY!" Scott yells as he runs down the stairs, ice cream covering his mouth and bowl still in hand.

It was a bumpy road.

You lay on your stomach, working on a physics worksheet, nearly falling off the bed when you heard a knock at your window. You raise your head to see Spider-Man gazing in. A sigh falls from your mouth as you roll off the mattress, stumbling over to the window and sliding it open.

"Peter, what are you doing here?" you yawn, falling back onto your bed and nearly crushing all of your papers.

He pulls off his mask. "Why are you so tired?"

"Pete, it's nearly one in the morning."

"Oh," he says quietly. Late nights never got to him.

You close your eyes. "Why are you here, again?"

"Well.. I uh," he hesitates. You grumble and he continues. "I was thinking about this whole relationship thing and it's authenticity and I don't know I kinda missed you and I was thinking maybe we could cuddle just cause it might help with the chemistry and stuff you know-"

"Just get in bed, Peter."

He shuts his mouth immediately, hesitating before piling your papers and neatly placing your things on your desk. Then he looks down at himself.

"Do you by chance have any-"

"Top drawer."

He pulls open the drawer to see a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt you'd stolen from him a few weeks ago. A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth at the knowledge that you'd worn these and kept them. He glances at you before pressing the spider at the center of his chest, feeling the suit loosen and fall to his feet.

You open your eyes.

Of course, you and Peter had seen each other in just underwear; you'd known each other for ages. But it was different now.

Your eyes scanned over his body, just donned in a pair of plaid briefs as he dressed himself. You look away as he turns around, clothed.

The boy then walks to you, picking you up lightly and adjusting you on the bed, pulling the covers and sliding underneath them behind you. You let out a sigh of relief, easing into him and letting sleep overcome you.

+ + +

You should've seen it coming.

Sure, you did, but you never acknowledged it. Your subconscious was playing a manipulative game and you desperately wished to have a talk with it.

You were in love with Peter Parker.

It was known well within you, but you'd never fully registered it until now, here, in the middle of a training session.

Heavy breaths flew out of you as you panted, sweat dripping off of your forehead. Peter stood a few feet away from you, in fighting stance, panting and sweating just how you were. His front curls were getting soaked in sweat, hanging over his forehead as he bounced on his feet. You couldn't help but let your mind get pulled away from your session and towards the fact that he looks so incredibly hot right now.

And then you got angry.

It made you mad that you'd held these emotions in for so long. You'd loved Peter your whole life and never once thought about making a move. It was stupid.

You didn't even give him the nod you normally do, throwing a punch and just barely skimming him in the gut. His eyes widened.

"Jeez, Y/N! You know I have fast reflexes, but that doesn't mean you ignore the signal," he pants, exasperated.

Your hard gaze meets his soft one for a split second before you begin laying it on him, the hardest the two of you had ever sparred. The poor boy was trying to talk to you the whole time, letting out pleads between his pants of desperation, trying to get you to calm down.

"Wow, you two really like getting at it, don't you."

You pull back, snapping your head over at Sam, open door behind him and smirk on his face.

Peter stops. "Uh, now's not a good ti-"

"Get out, Wilson, or I'll shove my finger up your nose so hard that-"

"Okay, okay, jeez," Sam smiles, walking out and shutting the door behind him.

An exhausted huff falls from Peter's lips as he looks at you.

"Y/N," he pleads, "what's wrong?"

You shake your head, entering fighting stance again. He sighs, doing the same before you resume your session, taking a swing at him and barely missing.

"What's wrong," you huff, knocking him out from underneath and pinning him to the ground. "is that I'm in love with you, dumbass."

His eyes widen. You let out a sigh, relief and sympathy immediately washing over you. You look down at yourself, practically straddling the boy on the ground.

And then he flips you around, hands on opposite sides of your head and his breath fanning over your face. He has a soft look, mixed with exhaustion and what seems to be relief and joy. Finally.

Peter Parker smiles, tilts his head down, and lays his lips on yours.

Fake relationship my ass.

+ + +

goodness gracious that took so long to write

#peter parker #tom holland #peter parker imagines #marvel #mcu #spiderman #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #fanfic #fluff #writing #peter #parker #thomas holland

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ryqoshay · 3 years

Text

Tri-Arame: Valentine’s Day

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~4.2k Rating: G, mostly. I’ll leave the T/M’ish stuff to your imagination... Time Frame: February of their 2nd year in high school Story Arc: Stand Alone

----------

Author’s Note: I couldn’t quite get this one done in time for the official holiday. I kept interrupting the flow with what I believed to be too much introspection, but I didn’t want to cut it completely, so I would write a new part to include it. And I still ended up dumping a bunch at the end. Que zura, zura... At least it’s still February, so... better late than never?

----------

“Ayumu-sa~n!” a voice called from behind.

The redhead turned to see a raven-haired girl walking briskly to catch up, waving wildly as if it would make it easier to spot her in the mostly empty hall. Running would likely have been quicker, and her excited aura made it seem like she wanted to do so. However, Setsuna was a rule follower, or at least tried to present herself as such, so hastened walking was her best solution.

“What’s up, Setsuna-chan?” Ayumu asked, pausing by the clubroom door.

“I finished my book, so you and Yuu-san can borrow it now.”

“That was quick.”

Setsuna grinned as she reached the other girl. “It was so good I couldn’t put it down.”

Ayumu leaned down a little. “Did you stay up too late again to do so?” She asked, noticing poorly concealed dark spots under cendrée eyes.

Had the other girl really gone around all day looking like that? Ayumu would have probably said something in the morning had they walked to school together like most mornings recently. However, Yuu had made them late and they had missed their usual train.

“Uhm… maybe…?”

“Geez, what am I going to do with you two?” Ayumu sighed.

“Two?”

“Yuu-chan stayed up too late last night as well, working on a new song again.” Ayumu explained. “Then, she overslept. That’s why we couldn’t meet you this morning.”

Setsuna’s eyes sparkled in a way that made it harder to tell she was actually sleep deprived. “I can’t wait to hear it.” Apparently, her excitement for a new song had overridden her disappointment in not being able to walk together.

“That wasn’t the point.” Ayumu shook her head but couldn’t help smiling at her friend’s enthusiasm anyway. “You two need to take better care of yourselves.” Though she’d fussed over her childhood friend for years, over the last few months, Ayumu had found herself worrying over Setsuna as well, since both girls shared a few bad habits.

“Thank you for your concern.” Setsuna acknowledged honestly, something Ayumu appreciated as Yuu wasn’t quite as responsive in that area. “But I’ll be fine once I move around a bit more.” She made a few motions mimicking the upcoming practice session. “And before I forget…” She reached into her bag.

“Oh, what’s that?” Fluttering paper caught Ayumu’s eye as the other girl pulled out her book.

“What’s wha…” Setsuna looked down. “Eh? Nothing!” She dropped down to fetch what looked like a flyer from a local store. “It’s nothing!” She repeated, stuffing the page back in her bag. “Please forget you saw that.”

“Was that an advertisement for a Valentine’s Day sale?” Ayumu felt a little bad about pressing the issue that the other girl seemed desperate to avoid, but she couldn’t ignore the alarm that suddenly chimed in the back of her mind. “I think I got the same one the other day.”

Pink blossomed across Setsuna’s cheeks as she held Ayumu’s gaze. “… Yes…” She admitted after a moment. “But, uhm… please don’t tell the others, alright? I was hoping to keep it a secret that I was going to make chocolates for everyone.”

The tiny bells became a blaring klaxon. “Do you want to make them together?” Ayumu offered. “I was planning on picking up supplies on my way home today since Yuu-chan has to stay late on cleaning duty. We can make everything at my place if you want.”

The last part seemed to catch Setsuna’s attention. “Do you already have molds and mixing bowls and that kind of stuff?”

Ayumu nodded. “I’ve made chocolates for Yuu-chan for many years, but with exception of the molds, the rest of the equipment is fairly standard for baking.”

“That would save me the expense of buying my own…” Setsuna mused.

Ayumu tiled her head with curiosity. “You don’t already have…?”

“Oh, sorry, we don’t do much cooking at my place since my parents are often busy with work.” Setsuna explained. “We have a few of the basics, but nothing like the double boilers and such that I saw recommended online.”

Ayumu nodded. “We have those.”

“So, you’re alright letting me use your equipment?”

“Of course.” Ayumu smiled. “And I think it will also be more fun to bake together as well.” She decided not to explain her ulterior motive of keeping an eye on the exceedingly enthusiastic experimenter. “If you don’t mind keeping my own secret of what I’ll be making for everyone.”

Setsuna laughed. “My lips will be sealed.” She made a motion as though pulling a zipper closed over her mouth.

With that decided, the two girls entered the club room to begin practice.

----------

“Ah, here we go.” Ayumu pulled a few bars off the shelf. “I’ve used this brand before and it works well.” She made sure the other girl saw the items before she put them in her basket.

Setsuna nodded in affirmation but continued to scan the shelves.

“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” Ayumu inquired.

“The ones in the ad…”

“Oh, those will probably on display at the end of the aisle. Shall we check?”

“Alright.”

The two made their way to the endcap display.

“After I saw them in the flyer, I checked online and found some good reviews.�� Setsuna explained as she picked up a few packages.

“That is dark chocolate,” Ayumu observed “so it won’t be as sweet as milk. But we have plenty of sugar at home if you decide you want to add some.”

“Alright.” Setsuna acknowledged. “Next up is bacon.”

“Bacon?” A new siren wailed in Ayumu’s mind. “Why would you need…?”

“Another reviewer linked to some recipes that suggested adding creative things like bacon instead of normal sea salt.”

“I think, for Valentine’s Day chocolate given to friends, we should stick to the <K.I.S.S.> principle.” Ayumu said the acronym in English.

“<Kiss?>” Setsuna repeated as a question.

“<Keep It Simple.>”

“What about the other S?”

Oh, right… Ayumu suddenly worried if Setsuna would take it as an insult. “<Keep It Simple, Stupid.>” She explained somewhat reluctantly.

“<Keep It Simple Stupid.>” Setsuna considered for a moment. “That makes sense. Love is complicated enough as it is, as shown so often in anime. And Valentine’s episodes always include some sort of drama or misunderstanding. So, keeping things simple is probably a good idea. And kisses are associated with Valentine’s as well. Yes, it definitely all makes sense.” She nodded, having reached her conclusion. “Alright, I’ll keep it simple.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly the explanation I would have gone with… Ayumu thought to herself, but if it works for her and keeps her out of trouble in the kitchen… She also found herself amused by how Setsuna always seemed to view the world through the lens of anime. Or idols. One or the other, sometimes both. It was rather cute, despite its absurdity, or perhaps… maybe because of it?

“I guess that also means no Tabasco sauce, parmesan or pickles?” Setsuna suddenly added.

“No. Definitely not.” Ayumu shook her head. What the heck kind of article suggested putting those kinds of things in Valentine’s chocolate?

“Hrm, I read the Tabasco or any sort of chili could represent burning passion.”

“Are you looking to convey burning passion to the others in the club?”

Setsuna blinked as though having just realized the implication. “Well… burning passionate friendship maybe?”

“Maybe Setsuna-chan is capable of that kind of thing.” Ayumu laughed. “But for now, why don’t we stick with the <K.I.S.S> principle?”

“Alright.” Thankfully, Setsuna didn’t seem too disappointed by having her ideas dismissed.

“So, shall we look at things to use for decoration?” Ayumu offered.

“Yes.” Setsuna agreed with a smile.

----------

“You know, I’m surprised you don’t do this with Yuu-san.” Setsuna commented as the two girls were setting up in Ayumu’s kitchen.

“Yuu-chan doesn’t have much interest in baking, or cooking, really.” Ayumu explained. “For Valentine’s, she just buys chocolate from the store.” She chuckled at memories. “However, she has actually made a bit of a tradition of buying the same kind for a few years now.”

“I can understand that. Traditions are fun.” Setsuna nodded. “And I had originally intended to buy chocolates for everyone this year, but then I got that flyer and it inspired me. I started researching things and got even more ideas and the more ideas I got the more I wanted to try making them myself.” She smiled. “Thank you again for letting me use your kitchen and equipment.”

“You’re most welcome, Setsuna-chan.”

With double boilers arranged on the stove and molds on the counter, the girls got to work. All the while, Ayumu kept a careful eye on what was being put in each pot, ensuring no extraneous ingredients were added. Thankfully, Setsuna seemed to be content with the items they had purchased. Perhaps the K.I.S.S. principle really had struck a chord with her?

Setsuna hummed happily to herself as she stirred her pot of chocolate before dipping in the thermometer as Ayumu had shown her a few minutes ago. “Oh, 31.5 degrees.” She announced.

“Perfect.” Ayumu responded, moving over to the stove. “Let’s give it a quick taste.” She dipped in a spoon. “That’s wonderful, Setsuna-chan. I hadn’t considered using dark chocolate before, but this is really good.” She smiled as the other girl bounced with excitement at the praise. “There’s a boldness that really suits you.”

“Boldness?”

“Here.” Ayumu held out what was left on the spoon. “Taste for yourself.”

“That is really good.” Setsuna agreed. “So, how is it different from yours?”

“Let’s find out.” Ayumu found a different spoon, dipped it into her pot and tasted it before holding it as well.

“Hrm… If mine is bold, then Ayumu-san’s is sweet.” Setsuna giggled as a thought occurred to her. “Not all that different from us on stage as school idols, don’t you think?”

Ayumu felt heat rise in her cheeks. “Maybe…”

“Anyway, yours is really good too, Ayumu-san.”

“Probably not as good as one made by someone like Kanata-chan.” Ayumu thought out loud.

“Ayumu-san.” Setsuna’s voice suddenly became stern.

“Eh?”

“That’s no good.” Furrowing her brow and putting a hand on her hip, Setsuna took on a commanding aura that made her seem bigger than her otherwise diminutive stature. It was something at which she excelled when performing on stage, but this was different. “You should have more confidence in yourself, Ayumu-san. Your chocolate is wonderful, and everyone will be grateful to receive it.”

“Oh…”

Setsuna didn’t seem satisfied with that response. “And I don’t just mean confidence here in the kitchen, by the way. You’re one of the hardest workers in the club, both academically and in school idol activities.” She paused for a moment. “Though I suppose I have read a lot of comments from your fans about how they think your bashfulness is cute and part of your charm. But they also appreciate your determination, so even they would have to agree that you should have more confidence in your abilities. Anyway, my point is that Yuu-san is going to love your chocolates. So will Kanata-san. And Kasumi-san. And all of the others.”

“And Setsuna-chan?” Ayumu couldn’t help a bit of hopefulness in her voice.

That seemed to throw Setsuna off. “I… Well…” Her hand fell from her hip and her brow unknitted. “Of course, myself as well. I just tasted it and told you it was good, right?” She paused again. “It’s not going to change in flavor when it hardens, right?”

“Not really, if we did things right, which it looks like we did. It won’t have as strong a smell when it’s solid, but it will still be good.” Ayumu assured with a chuckle. “Some of the toppings and decorations we’ll add in a bit will compliment things, but the chocolate itself will remain essentially the same as it now.”

“Oh, alright, that’s good.”

“Shall we get this stuff in the molds before it hardens in the pot?”

Setsuna nodded in agreement and the two began the next phase of their project.

“So, how long will these take to cool so we can reuse the molds?” Setsuna asked as she set a tray in the fridge.

“Reuse?”

“For the next batch.”

Ayumu realized that Setsuna still had several bars of unused chocolate. “How many were you planning on making?”

“I wanted to make some for the student counsel as well. And one more.”

“One more?”

“Is that the biggest mold you have?” Setsuna indicated one far larger than the others.

“I think so.” Ayumu picked up the tray in question. She had not personally ever used it for chocolate due to its size, rather for baking small cakes or cookies. “Who would this be for?” As soon as the question left her mouth, she began dreading the answer.

“Oh, uhm…” Pink dusted Setsuna’s cheeks. “I wanted to make a special one for Yuu-san” Ayumu’s breath hitched. Of course it would be for… “and Ayumu-san.” Oh… “If you two don’t mind sharing, of course.”

“No… that’s fine…” A different type of regret crept through Ayumu’s mind.

“I consider you two my best friends.” Setsuna admitted, glancing away somewhat sheepishly. “Of course I cherish the friendships I’ve made with the others in the club, but you two are different, and I wanted to do something different to show that. I actually had you two in mind when I first considered making all these.” She looked up. “Sorry for spoiling the surprise, but I guess that was inevitable when I agreed to come here for this project.”

“Well, it will still be a surprise for Yuu-chan.” Ayumu offered, as she attempted to suppress her unease.

“That’s true.” Setsuna agreed. “I hope you two like it.”

“I’ve already tasted it, so you already know what I think.” Ayumu pointed out.

Setsuna grinned as her usual cheerfulness came back on the rise. And as was often the case, her smile was contagious, so Ayumu couldn’t help returning one of her own, which made her feel better as well.

“Alright, let’s prepare some of the decorations while the first batch cools.” Ayumu said, moving over to the counter.

“Right.” Setsuna agreed as she followed.

----------

“Good morning, Yuu-chan.” Ayumu greeted her childhood friend on the other balcony.

“Mornin’ Ayumu…” Yuu yawned in return, rubbing at her eyes.

“Another late night?”

“Mmm…”

“What am I going to do with you two?” Ayumu sighed.

“Mm? Two?”

Huh, déjà vu. “Setsuna-chan stayed up too late the other night finishing her book.”

Yuu’s eyes lit up. “Oh, she said she was going to let us borrow it when she was done.”

“She gave it to me already.” Ayumu explained. “I’ll let you have it this weekend when it doesn’t matter as much if you stay up too late.”

Yuu pouted and Ayumu couldn’t help laughing lightly at the adorable reaction.

“Anyway, it’s good you’re up in time today. Setsuna-chan and I worked hard yesterday and want to give you your gifts as soon as possible.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. One sec…” Yuu turned as if to head back into her room.

“Just go ahead and get ready, Yuu-chan.” Ayumu called after her friend. “I’ll see you at the stairs in a few.”

“Alright!” came the response from the other side of the divider.

Not more than fifteen minutes later, Yuu came barreling down the stairs, buttered toast in her mouth like she was cosplaying an anime character.

“Yuu-chan, your ribbon is wrong…” Ayumu stopped her friend so she could adjust the bow. “There we go.”

“Thanks Ayumu.” Yuu replied with a chewing grin.

“Geez, and you’re getting crumbs…” Ayumu picked two pieces off Yuu’s cheek and ate them.

As if not even noticing, Yuu finished her breakfast and reached into her bag. “Happy Valentine’s, Ayumu!” She said, proudly presenting a package.

“Thank you, Yuu-chan.” Ayumu accepted the chocolate.

Sure enough, they were the same as years prior. She loved the tradition and as such, the brand had become one of her favorites, though she only indulged in it once a year. And, as per tradition, she quickly opened the package, removed one piece and ate it. She then took out a second piece and offered it to the person who had just given them to her.

“Mm, those are always so good.” Yuu commented. “I’d say they’re my favorite, but there is one kind that is better.”

Ayumu smiled as she knew the implications of the compliment, as if Yuu’s expectantly excited expression wasn’t enough of a giveaway. Thus, she reached into her own bag and produced one of the chocolates she had made the previous evening.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Yuu-chan.”

“That looks as amazing as ever.” Yuu observed as she accepted the chocolate. After quickly opening the package, she broke off a sizable piece, split it in two and offered one back to Ayumu. Same as the year before, and the year before that. “Yes, Ayumu’s chocolates really are the best.” Yuu said after swallowing.

“Shall we go meet up with Setsuna-chan?” Ayumu asked.

“Of course!” Yuu agreed as the two headed toward the station.

----------

“Setsuna-chan!” Yuu called, spotting their friend leaning against the same pillar as every morning since the three of them started walking to school together.

“Good morning, Yuu-san, Ayumu-san.” Setsuna bowed politely as the two approached.

“Good morning.” Ayumu replied with a smile.

“Happy Valentine’s!” Yuu cried, pulling out a package that looked to be the same size as the one she had given Ayumu a little while ago.

“Thank you.” Setsua accepted with a smile that rivaled the size of the gift. “May I open it now?”

Yuu laughed. “Of course!”

Ayumu couldn’t help paying close attention as the paper was removed to reveal… sure enough, it was the same brand. Yuu had given them both identical gifts. And that bothered… no wait, did it actually bother her? Strange. Several months ago, it absolutely would have. But now…

“These are really good.” Setsuna’s voice caught Ayumu’s attention again. “Want one?” She held out a pair.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Yuu replied.

Ayumu dismissed her initial thought to point out that she already had some of her own, due to Yuu having given her a box back home. Instead, she smiled and accepted the offer. Setsuna had melded all but seamlessly into their habits of sharing snacks so of course she would continue now.

“Thank you.” She said before taking a bite.

“Ayumu already knows, because she helped me make it, but I have something for you two as well.” Setsuna reached into her bag.

“Woah, that’s not just for…” Yuu started.

“It’s for both of you.” Setsuna finished.

“Oh, yeah, that makes more sense.” Yuu started unwrapping. “Still, this is amazing, Setsuna-chan. You put a lot of work into this.” She admired the decorations for a few moments.

Ayumu couldn’t disagree. She’d watched Setsuna pour her heart into practically professional level details. What she lacked in traditional taste, Setsuna more than made up for with an exceptional, though esoteric aesthetic.

“It’s almost a shame to eat something like this.” Yuu continued.

Setsuna laughed. “It’s fine. Eating it is the point. I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure it will be fine. Let’s see…” In a similar manner to what she had done with Ayumu’s chocolate, Yuu broke off a piece, but this time divided it into three. “There we go.”

Setsuna and Ayumu accepted their shares and the three popped their pieces into their mouths at the same time.

Yuu started to chuckle after she swallowed. “Looks like the brand I’ve been giving is going to be bumped down another notch.”

Setsuna tilted her head and blinked with a silent question.

“Ayumu’s is already ahead on my favorites list, but now Setsuna-chan’s is as well.” Yuu explained.

Ayumu found herself wondering about her own list of favorites. Setsuna’s chocolate really was delicious and Ayumu took a bit of pride in knowing she had helped rein in the adventurous chef so as to produce something that good. Also, Yuu was correct that it was better than the store-bought kind she gave. But was that all enough to edge out the sense of nostalgia Ayumu felt every year from Yuu’s gift? Or did it simply bring them both to the same level? Would she feel the same if she had left Setsuna to her own devices where she would have likely used bacon, Tabasco – seriously, what was her obsession with Tabasco? – paremesan, pickels and deities only knew what else?

“Oh, is that the time?” Yuu asked, her attention focused on one of the various displays around the platform. “We should get going so we’re not late to class.”

“Wait,” Ayumu spoke up before the other two started moving “I still have to give mine.”

Even though she likely knew it was coming, even though she had already helped taste test the batch and witnessed the decoration process, Setsuna bounced a little with an excitedly expectant energy. Ayumu noted how similar the behavior was to Yuu’s earlier reaction.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Setsuna-chan.”

Setsuna tore into the package with equal enthusiasm as with the first from Yuu. And like before, a piece was broken off and shared among the three before they started walking toward their school.

While her two friends seemed filled with festive fervor, something else held Ayumu’s thoughts. Certainly, she was happy that her friends were happy, and she was sure to smile when either directed their attention toward her, but something felt off. And not only was it different than what she had felt in months before, she couldn’t decide if it was better or worse.

----------

So, the packages of chocolates Yuu had given the other girls in the club had indeed been the same brand, but in smaller packages. And she had given Ayumu and Setsuna the same size. Did that mean that Yuu viewed them the same?

Ayumu pondered the day’s events as she made her way to her room to prepare for her bath.

Yuu had said, months ago, that Setsuna was not more important to her than Ayumu. And while Ayumu had trouble believing the statement at first, as more was revealed, she came to realize the truth in Yuu’s statement. However, that still did not rule out the possibility that Yuu considered the two of them equally important.

Thus, Ayumu found herself conflicted. On the one hand, there was the old familiar feeling of fear that she might lose Yuu to someone else… not that Yuu was actually hers, but… It was the feeling that had spiked in the days before the festival due to that misunderstanding with Setsuna and the same one she had tried hard to quash after things were made clear.

She didn’t want to be upset with Setsuna though, because as far as she could tell, the other girl had no intentions of stealing Yuu away from her. In fact, Setsuna had been nothing but honest and sincere in her desire to be close friends with both of them.

And that lead to the other hand, where Ayumu had come to truly enjoy the time the three spent together, often missing Setsuna’s presence when it was just her and Yuu. Heck, inviting Setsuna over to make chocolates wasn’t even the first time they had spent time together without Yuu, and there was no denying how much fun Ayumu had that evening.

So, did Yuu see her and Setsuna the same? Did Setsuna see her and Yuu the same? For that matter, did Ayumu see the other two the same? And if they did all see each other the same, what did that mean for them as friends… or lov…?

Despite there being no witnesses around to see her face, Ayumu felt like she needed to hide the fact that she was blushing at the thought of a relationship beyond what she already had with her two friends. And some of the activities that might be involved with such a relationship.

Certainly, this wasn’t the first time she had imagined such things between herself and Yuu, but it was the first time Setsuna had made an appearance in such fantasies. And Ayumu couldn’t deny that the ideas held an amount of appeal. Quite a bit of appeal, actually. Far more than she anticipated.

Ayumu leaned back in the tub and allowed her thoughts to continue meandering through various scenarios, several of which became more than slightly sensual. By the time she was finished with her bath, she was quite ready to crawl under the covers and fall asleep.

But first, she needed to send her nightly message to Yuu. After hitting Send, she was about to set down her phone and don her pajamas when a thought occurred to her. She switched conversation threads and sent a similar good night message to Setsuna. Then, with a smile, she placed the device by her pillow and finished getting ready for bed.

The two other girls had responded by the time Ayumu crawled into bed so she read their messages before pulling up the covers. Finally, as sleep started to take over, Ayumu found herself looking forward to the next day so she could see Yuu, and Setsuna, again.

----------

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

#YuuAyuSetsu #Takasaki Yuu #Yuki Setsuna #Uehara Ayumu #Tri-Arame #Love Live Nijigasaki #fanfic #Happy Valentine's Day!#belated

2 notes · View notes

gohyuck · 5 years

Text

King of Hearts - LJN. 01.

detective!jeno

word count: 3.8k

part of a series?: yes, this is the 1st installment

warnings: kidnapping, mentions of murder, usage of weapons commonly attributed to law enforcement

notes: everyone’s aged up, obviously (setting their birth years back by a solid amount), detective!00/01/02 and captain!mark, captain’s secretary!reader, pay attention to timestamps. draws pretty heavily from brooklyn 99 but is a lot less funny and a lot more angsty

tell me if i should continue this with a part 2!

[Wednesday, September 25, 2019 at 10:22 P.M.]

“An abandoned warehouse,” Jaemin murmurs disdainfully, adjusting his bulletproof vest. He pulls his gun from its holster, checking the safety before relaxing into his hold. “When did criminals get so cliché?”

“That is so not important right now,” Renjun hisses in response, shooting a quick, worried glance at Jeno, who’s standing as still as a statue some yards away, features balanced between being angry, afraid, and determined. “You should go check on him, dude.” He turns back to Jaemin, gesturing towards their friend with a slight tilt of his head. Jaemin rolls his eyes, though not before nodding in agreement. Before he can even think about approaching his best friend, though, Jeno moves to walk up to the side entrance they’re all gathered around.

Everyone waits for him to speak with bated breath. They all notice the King of Hearts stuck to the top of the door, though nobody mentions it.

“I can shoulder through,” Jeno finally whispers after appraising the state of the rotting, wooden door they’re faced with. “Renjun on my right, Hyuck can take left. Jaemin, with me - we’ll go straight to the hostage. Chenle, with Renjun. Jisung, go with Hyuck. All of you - if anything happens, radio back to me and then call Mark. The other squad is already inside on the other end, so we’ll probably end up meeting them somewhere in the middle.”

“What about calling for back-up?” Jisung asks, ignoring the air of finality that comes with Jeno’s words. The elder chews on his lower lip for a moment.

“The less people there are involved in this, the better.” He decides, and Jisung and Chenle share a glance before nodding an affirmation of their understanding. With this, everyone gets in position, their vests properly strapped on, guns in hand, and their sense of duty at ready.

“On 3,” Jeno whispers, looking around at his team once more to steady himself. “One… two…” Jeno solidifies his stance, leaning towards the door. Everyone else inches closer, shoulders tightening and eyes filling with resolve. “Three.” Jeno says after what feels like aeons, and, in what feels eerily as if its in slow motion to everyone else, subsequently breaks the door clean off its hinges with all of the power in his body.

The six of them file in, and Donghyuck and Renjun split off as they’re supposed to, taking their partners with them. Jaemin comes up behind Jeno, shooting his friend a - hopefully - reassuring smile before they start to make their way straight through the maze of boxes that awaits them.

There’s nothing - no creaks, no footsteps, no hushed whispers - as the two of them walk through towards the center. The moonlight filters in through the small windows at the top of the building, illuminating the warehouse well enough to avoid using flashlights. Jeno and Jaemin remain careful, taking in everything and filing small things they notice away in the back of their minds for later. It isn’t until they reach the clearing in what they believe to be the middle of the whole warehouse that anything substantial really happens.

“Might’ve been a bad tip,” Jaemin finally sighs, lowering his gun ever-so-slightly. Jeno says nothing, his face stony. “I’m sorry, man, but (Name) isn’t here -”

“Jeno?”

Both officers whirl around, Jaemin cocking his gun on instinct. When he sees that it’s you, he lowers it, straightening up onto his feet and furrowing his brows as he does.

“(Name)?” Jeno speaks, your name falling, breathy, off of his lips. You look entirely different from how you’d been just days ago - your eyes look empty, and there’s fear replacing your usual teasing manner.

“You shouldn’t be here, Jeno, it’s dangerous -” When you speak again your words are rushed, your weariness and terror evident in your inflection. Your voice rises in pitch and volume before being interrupted by Jeno.

“I’m a cop -”

“Guys -” Jaemin cuts in, though he barely gets out a word before being stopped himself.

“I see you’ve found your precious witness,” A voice interrupts the detective, and Jeno pulls you into his hold on instinct. He ignores how you’re shaking, knowing that if he dwells on it he’ll be too angry to do his job. The three of you turn around - albeit slowly - and find yourselves face-to-face with a figure in all black, mask and all.

They pull a deck of cards from what seems to be out of thin air and sits down, patting the floor next to it. Jeno and Jaemin, pulling themselves out of their dumbfoundedness, both pull out their guns, pointing it at the silhouette.

The figure laughs.

“See this right here?” They ask, drawing forth what seems to be a small remote. “You make any move to shoot, I’ll press the button. It has a ten second count-down, and then the bomb in this building will explode. It’s in one of the boxes in this place - I doubt you’ll find it, no matter how hard you look. Instead, how about you all sit.” They gesture for all of you to sit down again, taking the cards out of their box as they do so. You sit down, and Jeno, his eyes trained on you, follows. Jaemin does so as well, his gaze never leaving the criminal before the three of you.

The masked figure laughs, the kind of laugh that feels like nails dragging across a chalkboard. Jeno pulls you closer, and you find yourself clutching at the fabric of his pants to root yourself. The figure begins shuffling the cards, and the three of you wait anxiously for your kidnapper to speak.

You all know what will be said, but their words strike fear through your hearts anyways.

“How about… we all play a game together?”

[Friday, September 6, 2019 at 5:16 A.M.]

“You know how I said that the night shift sucks?” Mark asks, receiving a chorus of stifled yawns and “Amen”s in response. The grin he sends back reflects nothing of his subordinates’ feelings.

“I was wrong.” His smile stretches even wider as he hops off of the desk at the front of the briefing room, throwing a case file down onto the space he’d previously occupied. “We have a serial killer on our hands.”

“Wait, for real?” Donghyuck perks up immediately, all traces of exhaustion magically gone from his face. Even Jisung looks slightly more awake after their Captain’s declaration, and that’s truly saying something.

“Right? But, wait!” Mark exclaims as if he’s a commentator from an as-seen-on-TV ad, spreading his hands out. “There’s more.”

Nobody says anything at this, though pretty much everyone noticeably leans forward. Mark leans towards them too, building suspense, before turning around and turning the TV on. A smattering of different years shows up on-screen, seven dates from between 1994 and 2019.

Everyone waits. The Captain glances at his team expectantly, excitement glimmering almost maniacally in his sleep-deprived eyes.

“Mark,” You finally break the pregnant pause, figuring that it’s you doing your due diligence as secretary to the Captain. “You have a call incoming at 6 from HQ. It’s best to just get into it.”

“Right,” Mark nods, wincing at your reminder. There’s nothing he loves more than some good suspense, and nothing he hates more than imminent tongue-lashings from his higher-ups. “Anyways, guys, these are the years that this specific killer has struck. It’s a 25 year old case!”

A low whistle follows immediately, courtesy of Jaemin. Chenle raises one eyebrow while Jisung raises the other.

“Totally unsolved?” Jeno questions from the back, and Mark nods.

“Yeah - but there’s still more to come. Just wait until you see their modus operandi.” The Captain clicks through to the next slide, revealing a picture of a blood-stained carpet. A leg of what must be a coffee table is barely noticeable in one corner of the image, and a pale hand clutching a shattered wine glass fills a quarter of the frame. The true focus, however, lies on what’s dead center in the photograph - a white King of Hearts playing card, tinged red with blood at its edges.

Nobody notices the color draining from your face, and not one person sees the way you step back and clutch the table behind you to steady yourself. You let out a small, shaky breath before doing your best to compose yourself. Meanwhile, Mark has moved on with the briefing.

“- all have gunshot wounds to the chest, everything suggests from a point blank range. Different gun every time, but that’s likely just to throw us off. No finger-prints anywhere, no working security cameras for half of the murders. If there were any, they were all redirected somehow throughout the duration of each crime - all we have is this short clip of someone dressed in all black entering from the 2002 house.”

Your breath hitches yet again, and, this time, you fathom your oncoming panic attack. Setting your clipboard and files down onto the tables you’re leaning against, you wait until Mark’s back is turned and everyone else is talking amongst themselves to slip out of the briefing room. If anyone notices, they’ll chalk it off to a bathroom break or something of the sort - you’re sure of this. They might be detectives, but they generally don’t find things they aren’t searching for.

Armed with this knowledge, you make it out of the room smoothly, managing to rush into the nearest bathroom before your panic sets in. As you’d expected, only one person notices your departure.

Jeno sees your hands shaking and registers the way you’re chewing on your bottom lip. It’s something you do when you’re worried, or nervous, or afraid, or all of the above. You’ve done it without knowing about it for years, now. He does his best not to stare at you as you rush out, though he can’t keep his own perturbation hidden nearly as well as he wishes he could.

“Eyes on the board, lover boy,” Jaemin leans in, whispering almost conspiratorially in his partner’s ear. “You can stare at (Name) all you want later. It’s murder time now.”

Jeno furrows his brows at his best friend’s wording, but shoots him a sheepish smile anyways. He shakes off the unease that’s settled on his shoulders, though he makes a note of seeing how you’re doing before you both get off shift.

[Friday, September 6, 2019 at 7:04 A.M.]

“(Name)!” You turn around to see your boyfriend barrelling towards you outside your precinct’s office, and you can’t help the smile that overtakes your features upon seeing him. Before you can respond, he catches up to you, lacing your fingers in his.

“We should get breakfast,” Jeno says, and he sounds so excited about the prospect that you feel even worse than before when you shake your head in disagreement, pulling him closer as you do. Both of you ignore how your smile falls quicker than it ever has before.

“I think I should just get back to my apartment, Jen,” His nickname falls from your lips easily as you sigh a response, mustering as bright a grin as you can when you look up at him. “Today sucked the soul out of me.”

“The night shift sucks ass,” He agrees, not questioning you. Jeno’s always been understanding, even if he isn’t aware of it. He withdraws his hand from your grip, opting instead to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you into his side. “I hope we’ll get back to our regular scheduling soon.”

You snort at this.

“Not fucking likely, babe. Chief Lee walked in on Mark mimicking his dance from this year’s Captains’ Fourth of July party, remember? Lee also heard Doyoung say, and I quote, ‘it’s like that one video of that little green alien dancing to, like, super funky background music except the alien actually had talent’.”

Jeno lets out a loud, snorting laugh - the kind that makes his eyes draw themselves into crescent moons and his nose scrunch up in happiness. If you had to pick one sound to hear for the rest of your life, it would be this - Jeno’s genuine laugh, the one he reserves for you and others who love him. You take note of how he hasn’t asked you about how you’d left the briefing earlier, finding yourself hoping that he hadn’t noticed at all.

He hasn’t questioned you about it, so you assume he hadn’t. One bullet dodged there, at least. You’ve never been good at keeping your hardships away from your boyfriend - he insists on shouldering your burdens on top of his. You don’t let yourself dwell on this, shoving the serial killer case on hand out of your mind from the time being, no matter how difficult you find it. Rather, for the rest of the walk down to the subway, you focus on talking and laughing with Jeno.

Once you both reach your platform - he’d insisted on walking you to it right after buying you a coffee from an on-the-way Starbucks - you give Jeno a quick, chaste kiss before turning towards the train that’s pulling in. Before he leaves to find his own platform, he leans close to peck your cheek. Right before he steps back, and right as the doors to your train open, he moves his lips to dwell by your ear.

“When you’re ready to tell me what’s bothering you, I’m here. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you!”

You whirl around to respond, eyes wider than you’d like them to be. Jeno, however, is already halfway up the staircase. He shoots you a bright smile before motioning you backwards as if to tell you to get on your train. Then, as quickly as he’d managed to walk away from you, he’s gone, too far aboveground for you to see him.

The doors close right behind you, and the metal pole you hold on to for stability as the train jolts back to life feels colder than usual.

Maybe Jeno’s observation is a force to be reckoned with.

[Saturday, September 7, 2019 at 8:02 P.M.]

“We could’ve just stayed in, you know.” You tease, your words soft and lilting against Jeno’s muttered swears. The man in question dabs haphazardly at his lap with a napkin, and you cover your mouth with your hands while you chuckle so as not to agitate him even more. He manages to get most of the sauce off of his slacks, though it does leave an oddly shaped stain - as you turn your head, you realize that it almost looks like Australia.

You tell him so.

“You suck,” Your boyfriend throws back at you, brows furrowed. He isn’t angry - the softness in his eyes gives this away. Rather than respond, you raise your wine glass in a toast and Jeno, though with confusion scrawled across his face, raises his in return.

“To slacks with sauce and nights with…” You pause, and Jeno raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. A thought strikes you, and you have to bite down on your lower lip to keep from laughing. “...with Nono.”

Before he can react, you knock your glass lightly against Jeno’s, leaning back in your chair before downing half of the wine you have. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, sets his glass down, dumbfounded, before placing his face in his hands and groaning.

“That’s literally the dumbest nickname - you’ve been hanging out with Jaemin too much, haven’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say too much,” You grin, leaning close to set your own glass down. Wrapping your hands around his wrists, you pull them gently away from his face. You’re pleased to see a soft blush spreading across his otherwise sharp features - not everyone can fluster a bigshot detective, after all. You almost feel as if you have a super power.

“Yeah?” Jeno asks, his voice less inquisitive than it is teasing, playful. He leans in, too, and as his blush dies down yours only grows. “What do you two talk about?”

The corners of your mouth twitch upwards at this - Jeno, unknowingly, has thrown the ball back in your court. All you have to do now is hit an ace.

“Nothing too interesting, you know,” You say, voice equally light. One of your fingers finds the rim of your glass, idly tracing it as you speak. “Just about the fifth grade adventures of Nana and Nono.”

Jeno groans again, pushing his chair back enough to rest his forehead against the table. Across from him, you burst into quiet laughter before taking another sip of wine. Ragging on Jeno is your favorite pastime, and you’re sure he knows it.

“I’ll kick Jaemin’s -” A siren blasting from outside interrupts Jeno, and, before he can continue, two more - now, three more - join it. Before either of you can react, your boyfriend gets a text. He reads it quickly, his jaw tightening as he skims the message.

“Jeno?” You find it in yourself to ask, receiving a heavy sigh in return. He sets his phone down and stands up to pull out his wallet, taking his Visa credit card from it before reaching his hand out to give it to you. You take it, letting it dangle between two fingers.

“Dinner’s on me, darling,” He musters a small smile before leaning in to press his lips to your forehead. “Give it back to me tomorrow, or something.”

Jeno’s gone before you can badger him further, the only proof of him having been there at all resting between your index and middle fingers and on one of his pant legs. You find that you aren’t in the mood to finish eating your meal, opting instead to wave over the closest server you can so you can get the bill, all while ignoring the pitying glances from everyone at surrounding tables.

Once the check comes out, you slide Jeno’s card into your wallet, pulling out your own to pay with.

The wincing sympathy in the air around you amplifies. You continue to ignore it.

[Monday, September 9, 2019 at 11:03 P.M.]

A short but resounding thud in front of you draws your attention away from poring over Mark’s schedule. You look up to see Jeno, armed with a steaming cup of coffee in each hand and a sheepish smile. He’d put your order down on your desk, resulting in the sound you’d just heard, but hadn’t taken his hand off of it.

You don’t take it from him - instead, you pull your wallet out of your purse, rifling through it quickly before finding Jeno’s credit card and putting your hand out towards him. Jeno doesn’t take it. Rather, he lets go of your cup, pulling out his own wallet with his now-free hand and giving it to you so you can do the honors.

“Didn’t seem to get charged for dinner,” He mentions casually as he shoves his wallet back into the back pocket of his work slacks. You nod, confirming his unasked question before turning back to your computer. For some reason, your eyes can’t focus as they had been before. You minimize Mark’s schedule, leaving you staring at your background - a picture of Jeno you’d snuck during your first date together. He’s staring out the window of a cafe in it, white sweater sleeves pulled up around his hands that are, in turn, cradling a cup of coffee. The smallest, but most genuine, of smiles graces his lips, and his cheekbones are highlighted by the light filtering in beside him. He looks angelic and too good to be true in it.

Maybe he is.

“You can’t seriously be mad at me,” He tries again, and you look up at him again. Warmth lingers in his demeanor, but an annoyance is starting to overpower it. You find yourself ticked off, too, and roll your eyes rather than deigning to talk to him.

“(Name).”

“Do you need an appointment with the Captain?”

“I was just doing my job, darling -”

“I’m not mad at you for stranding me, Jen,” You finally speak, your eyes finally meeting his. He blinks as he registers the hurt in yours, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he does. “I just -” You begin, before sighing and shaking your head. You aren’t sure how to word your feelings.

“Sweetheart?”

“You left without telling me why, and then you didn’t text me back until almost 24 hours later. I was on edge, wondering if anything had happened to you, and you didn’t even think to check in with me! And when you did, it wasn’t about why you’d left or what had happened, it was to ask me about if I’d seen some random movie trailer!” You take a deep breath, doing your best not to raise your voice in your workplace. Swallowing to calm your dry throat, you start again, whispering this time. “I was worried sick, and you didn’t even think about my feelings long enough to register that.”

“You could’ve texted first -”

“I did! You never responded.”

“I never got a text from you,” Confusion spreads across Jeno’s features as he pulls his phone out to show you. You take it nimbly from his hand, scrolling quickly through his conversation with you to confirm that he hadn’t, in fact, gotten any texts from you until he had texted you.

“I didn’t tell you why I’d left because it was classified at the time, but I didn’t want to leave you hanging for too long,” Jeno explains further, but you only barely listen to him, focusing instead on finding your conversation in your own phone. Your boyfriend, recognizing this, speaks no further as he takes his phone back and slips it into one of his pockets. He watches you, intrigue barely concealed within his features.

Suddenly, your face pales, and you let your phone drop face-up onto the counter in front of you. Jeno’s eyes widen as he reaches across to grab one of your trembling hands, his worry greater than his confusion.

“(Name)?”

“It - he -” You manage to speak out before giving a shaky sigh and pausing to swallow the bile that has risen in your throat. “I- I need to tell you something.” You finally gasp out, pointing towards your phone. Jeno glances at it before letting out a noise of shock, his fingers tightening around your own.

Panic burns in his veins as his mind works overtime to work out the meaning of what he’s witnessing . Rather than seeing your texts as he’d hoped, Jeno finds a black screen staring back up at him. There is just one thing adorning it.

Dead center is a King of Hearts playing card, the words ‘found you.’ in blood red letters underneath it. It is mocking you, telling you that you are out of time.

It is telling you that you have lost.

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