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rosesloveletters · 5 months

Text

all is fair in love.

Pairing: 1971 Willy Wonka x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 10,261

Warnings: sexual content / smut.

Summary: The holidays are Wonka's busiest season and his work keeps him away from reader much more than either of them would like. After hours, the two spend a passionate night together as they both make the necessary arrangements to be attentive to each other's needs and empathetic of the complexity of maintaining a healthy romantic relationship that neither reader nor Wonka are accustomed to.

Author's Note: my smut fics are always between 6-10k haha so enjoy. I edited this the best I could, but for some reason I kept switching between first person and second person pov for reader (I don't know why since I always write in second person pov.) I think I fixed most of it, so if there's any parts I missed, I'm sorry. Also, I'd like to mention that Christmas isn't inherently important to the events in this story. It is used as an element only to convey why Wonka is so busy during this time of year, because most people like to buy chocolate and candy as gifts. I know Gene was Jewish, even though I believe he said he wasn't exactly religious. I have no intention of trying to be offensive/belittle/make light of anyone's religion or beliefs and I apologize if it comes across that way because it is without a doubt not my intention.

Edited.

divider created by @/saradika on Tumblr.

You’ve always believed that if you truly love someone, then you keep it a secret.

You would let that feeling freeze me down to the core – to love the way a person is meant to, but it is that same love that, inevitably and irrevocably, suffocates.

You cannot satisfy that craving the same way one might satisfy a sweet tooth. Once given a taste, it seeps down into your skin, infecting both body and mind, pierces the heart and tears it wide open.

The thundering beat inside your chest cannot be silenced. The fingertips of fate trace the spider-like, lightning-strike veins that split your heart right down the middle.

A broken heart takes love like a beating.

It all comes boiling to the surface, bubbling up and out in the breath of a second.

The truth always comes out, one way or another.

Because if you don’t let the heart have its’ way, then it will tear itself right out of your chest.

***

The days were short, but the hours were long.

You spent much of your time by yourself, as this season kept Willy preoccupied. Time marched onward and the weeks themselves seemed to drag; it was nearing Christmastime and that meant very little to you in the grand scheme of things, except that you’d be seeing less and less of your lover.

Traditionally, the holidays were a time of celebration and joy, gifts and laughter shared between friends and families alike.

However, you lived a nontraditional life now, and Willy had unwittingly shown you that the life of a chocolatier was a solitary one. You knew that the busy holiday season was what pulled him away, but his lack of attentiveness made you wonder…

The only thing that kept these thoughts at bay was the way in which he looked at you when he was around.

Willy was a difficult man to read. Whether that was intentional or not, were you still trying to determine. The only dead giveaway were his eyes – startlingly intense and piercingly blue – that bore no resemblance to subtlety.

The vastness of the heavens, it seemed, were contained within those swirling galaxies. On dark nights when the cloud cover was too thick, you traced the constellations in his eyes to guide you into his morning light.

You could see yourself peeling back the layers of his heart to get to the source of how he truly felt.

Deflect from it all he might – “I’m a trifle deaf in this ear. Speak a little louder next time–” you saw right through him and sometimes that only made him steer clear of you for longer.

It wasn’t that he did not care for you; it was quite the opposite. Perhaps the extent to which he cared was a bit overwhelming for him at times. He immersed himself in his work during these times, else his mind inevitably carried him to places he would rather not visit.

Willy Wonka’s mind was not a place any person, sometimes even himself, should ever go without a guide or a distinct way back.

Though anyone with half a brain could tell that the amazing chocolatier was a troubled man on occasion, his true nature shone through in his creations. Something about this season’s batch of chocolate was a touch sweeter than ones previous. It would go undetected by those who did not have a refined palate, but like the saying goes, a true artist would put their blood, sweat and tears into their work and Willy Wonka was a mastermind.

He knew exactly what he was doing and what he meant to convey, if only between himself and one other: the world’s most famous chocolatier was in love.

***

You sat on the plush sofa in the personal wing of the factory, a book in one hand and a mug of hot chocolate in the other. You were nestled beneath a thick-knit, purple blanket as you read and waited on Willy to return to your den for the night.

You saw less and less of him the closer it got to the holidays, but such was the nature of his business. Christmastime was one of the busiest seasons and the one in which he made most of his money (the second being Valentine’s Day.) People bought exorbitant amounts of candies and chocolate during the holidays and so Willy was forced to expedite production (though never sacrificing quality) and work long, difficult hours preparing new and exciting treats for the public. In fact, it was no well-kept secret that Willy Wonka unveiled his newest creations around this time of year and that very news was plastered in every newspaper, magazine and bulletin across the world as people anticipated the exciting, brand-new sweets there would be to try.

You knew the excitement and rush of the season fed into Willy’s own excitement over his work. He was thrilled to be working on new ideas and expressing himself through his creativity and imagination. It meant the world to him and so you did your best to stay out of the way. You did not want to make the situation about you and, after all, he always made it up to you.

He was aware that his absence bothered you and he tried not to think about the fact that he may or may not be doing irreparable damage to your relationship.

Not every difficult time or situation was an attack against you. It wasn’t personal, nor was it anyone’s explicit fault. Willy had a factory to run, Oompa-Loompas to manage and ideas to manifest into reality. Sometimes, your relationship would take a backseat and if you were serious about being with him, then you would have to be alright with that and you were, although that did not mean that it didn’t hurt from time to time.

It would have been nice to relax and enjoy the season with your lover without his work getting in the way. You would have loved to curl up with him, sitting at opposite ends of the couch and enjoying lots of hot chocolate and hours of warm conversation. If you had your pick, you’d gladly have him here with you now, trading the book in your hands for his warm body, his fingers linked perfectly into the spaces between yours.

You reasoned that this was just how things would have to be for now. No sense in adding more pressure on him by complaining. He was aware of how you felt, but sadly there was nothing to be done about it. You never would have dreamed of asking him to pick between his work and you. That would not have been fair or right. You could handle this, for now, but deep down you missed him terribly.

Even if you chose to spend time with him inside the factory part of the building, he would be working the whole time. There simply was no time for much of anything else. He did like when you would drop by because you were his faithful little taste-tester. Better to try it out on you before selling it to the masses – that would seem cruel, knowing that his candies have had certain negative effects on people in the past, but rest assured, Willy had never given you anything that might harm you.

Any candy which made its way to you had been tested and re-tested to perfection before it ever passed between your lips.

He wanted feedback on his candy before it left the factory and you were more than happy to offer it to him, to which he was enthusiastically grateful. The only problem was, true to inventor fashion, he asked for feedback on everything. He wanted your opinion and was asking for it increasingly often these days. When you didn’t show up to the inventing room on certain days, he’d bring a whole box back to your shared living space and eagerly watch you with anticipation of your positive remarks as you were asked to try every piece.

He was always so grateful to you for that and, honestly, you didn’t mind. You liked candy and chocolate, so there was no reason you couldn’t afford him this act of kindness.

The only thing you really felt like you were missing was him and it plagued your mind most often while you were alone, which was of course very often. You kept yourself busy and occupied your thoughts with other things as much as you were able, but when you settled in for the night, your loneliness crept in and took up the space beside you that would have otherwise been occupied by your beloved chocolatier.

You didn’t mind your alone time, but too much of it was not ideal.

Too much of a good thing came with a price and now it seemed you were paying it with interest.

The sound of a door opening and shutting pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced down at your book to realize you’d just had it propped open against your knees this whole time and hadn’t read a bit. You marked your place and closed it with a huff, setting it down on the end table beside you, your mug of half-drank cocoa with it.

A quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall – thank God he hadn’t cut that one in half – showed that it was ten minutes after midnight.

It did not come as a surprise that Willy was so late. It was only your wildest guess as to what he had been working on, but that point was moot. You did not really care what he was working on.

That thought seemed harsh and you frowned; no, you were adamantly against resenting him for his work. That path was one you would not let yourself go down, a trap of codependence, you told yourself, but why couldn’t he just be a little more present with you? Surely it wasn’t too much to ask.

Perhaps you would ask.

It would make the most sense to be upfront with him about how you were feeling and to be as direct as possible.

You did not move from the couch. You waited on Willy to come and find you, unlike the many days and nights when you might have greeted him at the door.

Several quiet moments passed between yourself and your thoughts before Willy entered the room. He had shed his purple coat at the door, as well as his hat and cane, “there you are, my dear,” his gentle tone made your stomach clench as warmth pooled in your abdomen. Even troubled with doubts, you were still delighted to see him.

You watched as he approached and dropped himself on the opposite end of the couch. He nudged your knee with his, silently asking for a bit more space which you politely gave, “I would have been back sooner, but I’ve been so busy, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Yes, it is that time of year,” you replied coolly. You didn’t want to jump into the meat of the discussion too soon, otherwise he might take offense where there was none.

He seemed in a good enough mood that perhaps this would be the perfect time to strike.

“Yes, my dear, it’s the holiday season which does wonders for my business and I couldn’t be happier.”

His pride in the work he was doing warmed your heart. You listened to him for a while as he recounted what he had been working on that day.

He cared so much and spoke so passionately, yet your mind began to wander.

“Is everything alright, my dear?”

His tender voice captured your attention and you blinked slowly, “yes, I’m fine. But, there is something I would like to talk to you about.”

His lips hitched into a faint smile, then flattened into a serious line. It bothered you, not being able to read his face.

“There is? Well, you know that you can always talk to me about anything on your mind.”

You didn’t want to overwhelm him, not when he was already so fully immersed within his work. He needed time and space to focus. He did not need you hindering his creative flow by hanging all over him and demanding more attention. He already gave so much; how could you even dare to think that he owed you more?

“I know you’re busy this time of year, but do you think it would be possible for us to spend a little more time together?” My voice cracked as I added, “I…really miss you, Willy.”

You hadn’t meant to speak with words that were laced with such pain, but in fairness you did miss him terribly. By the time he made his way to you most nights, you were already in bed or heading there and in the mornings before you’d woken up, he would be gone. It bothered you to not see him and you wanted him to hear it. He needed to know the truth if you meant to be honest with him, you only hoped he’d be able to understand that you didn’t blame him.

Conversations like this always made you second guess yourself.

By this point, you realized that he had not responded. He was probably just thinking about what he would say, but usually it didn’t take him this long to reply.

“Willy?” you gently urged him, reaching out to place your hand on his arm.

Whenever he felt the gentle graze of your fingertips against the fabric of his shirt, he glanced down, admiring the tender touch with a wistful smile on his face before he looked up at you and the emotion held inside of those ice-blue eyes was almost enough to send you over the edge and into uncontrollable sobs of relief.

You felt the tension in your shoulders beginning to dissipate. Good, he felt the same way.

He was still staring at you like there was something more on his mind. That was the way things were with Wonka and you’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t thought on more than one occasion that it’s a good thing you weren’t a mind reader because there were things that went on inside his head that should stay there. It was better that you didn’t try to trace his Machiavellian ways or make sense of the enigmatic man who so frequently surprised you with small glimpses into how he really thought and viewed the world. It was fun getting to know who he was, but the true wonderment was in not knowing him at all.

He tested your mind and all your senses, but never pushed your boundaries. He could knock you off your stride in seconds, then act as if nothing had happened. You were playing his little chess game and he was already three or more moves ahead. It had only been a matter of time before you had fallen into his hands like this.

Things were as they were because Wonka wanted them to be. His quips and wisecracks often went over people’s heads, especially because of how well-versed he was in literature and culture. He could make the whole world fall in love with him at once, then forget him as soon as they were no longer in his presence, but you believed the world adored him much more than he liked to think it did.

“I didn’t say anything sooner because I didn’t want it to seem like I was being insensitive, since I know you’re not intentionally ignoring me.”

This statement made him smile for some reason, “where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; where little fears grow great, great love grows there.” (William Shakespeare, Hamlet.)

At first, you didn’t know what to say. You had a bit of trouble discerning what he meant sometimes, missing the larger picture for deciding why he chose a specific quote at a specific time.

Seeming to read your thoughts, he let out a polite chuckle, “This is to say, even in love do the smallest doubts scare you, but when you are afraid of such little things, you are still in love, too.”

His explanation seemed to help, if only for a second.

It was true that you had your doubts, but those doubts only stemmed from love. That fear which grew inside of you had taken root, but when enough time had passed, it was the love which had bloomed from it.

Both the fear and love would come with a connection as strong as this one.

In the beginning, Willy had never dreamed of having a romantic partner. His solitary lifestyle simply lacked the means necessary to cultivate a long-term relationship. He had never desired romance or human connection of any kind. He had his factory and the Oompa-Loompas to look after; he was stretched thin as it was.

It was with sickening rapture that he sought the reason for why his heart seemed so content within your hands. He had to know the true meaning behind what he felt, even if he had to wade out in to the wild, dark depths up to his neck. He was barely treading water, sinking still, feet kicking desperately and hands reaching, clawing for purchase but there was nothing for him to grab onto. No way to steady himself as his soul careened toward what he had been running from for so long, a runaway train on the track towards trust and away from self-preservation.

At first, you wanted to be the one in control. You had your fair share of demons and setting the pace for the relationship yourself was very important to you, but neither of you wanted to go too far too fast.

You became acclimated to his world quite quickly.

You just seemed to fit right in and, with time, Wonka found himself closer to you than he had ever been with another person.

The two of you had been together for quite some time now and the red string of fate binding your hearts together was pulled taut.

It seemed that you both knew you were in the right hands and the love that grew here was stronger than any fears or doubts which gripped you.

“What scares me the most is that you’re pulling away from me,” you confessed to him, and that revelation made his eyes widen perceptibly, “sometimes I think you don’t even realize that you’re doing it.”

The conversation had shifted and Wonka realized that you were no longer just discussing his absence in light of the holidays. There was deeper emotion and meaning laced within what you were saying to him now.

He was used to being alone, as were you. The only difference was that while you had never lost hope that the right person might come along, he had done everything he could to close himself off. His heart was a precious thing and that was what the world had been after. Yes, he had closed his factory because of theft, but he put his whole heart into his work and, if anyone were to steal his heart, then there would be nothing left for the one whom it belonged to.

He made sure he guarded his heart all these years, even if he didn’t know the reason for it. It was easier to deny the very fact that love was something every person desires, even ones who have become so layered and complex that it would be difficult to imagine what a true love might look like for them.

Wonka was not afraid of anything.

However, if one thing made him apprehensive it was the idea of anyone finding him out.

Not that there was any chance of that; no one was able to think quite like him. But if anyone came close, that meant he’d cling to them forever, holding on for dear love.

His gaze shifted down to your hands that were folded in your lap and reached for one. Long, delicate fingers gently wrapping around your right hand as he brought it to his mouth.

A kiss for each finger, you counted, one two three four five…

Then, his lips made contact with your inner wrist. The sudden and unexpected brush of lips against your sensitive skin made your breath hitch.

“I promise to be more attentive,” he whispered on your skin, his hot breath tickling the inner area of your wrist, “the only one pulling me anywhere is you and I am only moving forward.”

“You’ve got to go forwards to go back.”

He had believed that, in more ways than just one, in relation to his factory and to people, but there was no going back now. Even if that were an opinion, he wouldn’t have wanted to.

Within half a second, he dropped your hand and tilted his head, leaned in close and pressed his warm lips to yours in the most sensual, tender kiss your lips had ever known.

Your heart fluttered in your chest like butterfly wings beating against your ribcage, desperate to free itself and get to his. Your soul sought the kind of connection that your mouths were getting and jealousy was an understatement.

If this was his way of making it up to you, then let it be known that you wanted nothing else for Christmas this year than a clear mind and the taste of your lover left over on your cupid’s bow.

It was all electric, body and soul alight, glistening brighter than fairy lights strung up for the season.

He tasted sweeter than his own candy and you smiled into the kiss at the very thought. He ate a lot of his own sweets, if only to test the taste, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the sugared kisses, your sweet tooth craving satisfied only by his honeyed lips.

Somewhere in the haze you found the opportunity to grip handfuls of his tawny tresses, fingers digging into the soft curls that drove your heart mad with desire. You loved his hair and so infrequently did he let you touch or comb it. It was about as unruly as he was, wild, untamed and free, just like the man it belonged to.

Your gentle tugging on his hair elicited a soft grunt from him and his lips attacked yours more feverishly, taking on a more aggressive quality now that you had accepted and encouraged him.

There was no rhyme or reason for anything that occurred while you were with him, except what was happening now.

Wonka did everything on a whim. Sleeping, eating, working…no schedule, no routine, no nonsense.

“A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.”

Perhaps the most nonsensical thing that had ever happened in Wonka’s factory was your fear that he might leave you.

Strike that. Don’t reverse it.

You didn’t want anything to change. There were more twists and turns in this man’s head than there were in his factory and you had lost yourself trying to find your way out. You never left his mind, not once. Even while he worked or spent time alone, you were in his thoughts, whether it was subconscious or not.

Your own mind didn’t register your movement as you crawled closer and sought out more of his sugary sweetness which was more potent than any nectar of the gods. Your lips devoured his, tasting every inch of the same mouth that poured prose and poetry into your ear each night that you laid with him.

He hummed pleasantly against your lips. His gentle sounds teased you; so rare was it that he ever made a sound during these moments of intimacy. Oh, how you tried, and your futile attempts filled him with great satisfaction. He had more discipline than you ever imagined; living alone for so many years without the warmth of another had taught him to go without, but desperation clung to his bones and manifested through each fervent, heated kiss.

Willy wouldn’t have described himself as needy, but he appreciated physical intimacy when it occurred and sometimes it was as necessary as any other proper communication. He wanted more than a quick romp; he craved human connection. It was completely unfounded for someone like him to want to share a connection with anyone, but here he was asking for it with his mouth on yours and your reciprocation of that same need meant everything to him.

You tested the waters, grazing your teeth along his bottom lip to determine how far he might be willing to go. He didn’t stop you. His lips simply parted, allowing entry of your tongue.

The only sound he made was a little gasp, which you swallowed as your tongue delved in to taste the inside of his mouth. Your hands were still holding the sides of his head, fingers buried deep within his unruly curls.

He helped maneuver your body closer to his, unabashedly bringing you to sit on his lap. As you settled on top of him, one of his large hands moved down to the small of your back and held you firmly in place.

You could feel the heat of his hand through your shirt. You had no grasp of how long the two of you continued to kiss like that. The passage of time, though a precious thing, was unimportant in the current moment. The only thing you demanded more of was him and you would greedily take all that he had to offer you.

You were enchanted by him. He surprised you at every turn and, if it had been anyone else, you’d have questioned where you stood with them, but wasn’t that the point? The less anyone knew about Willy Wonka, the more exciting it felt to be in his presence.

It was impossible to know whether the things he revealed about himself were true or not and there was beauty in that alone. If beauty was in the eye of the beholder, then he had the upper hand here.

You did not stop to see why his hand had suddenly been removed from your back, but any questions you might’ve wished to voice were answered when you noticed him reaching for one of the top buttons on his vest.

The steady progression of events had led you here and you were too immersed within the moment to stop him, but you wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. You were entranced, enthralled, enraptured by the whole of him and his heart belonged to yours.

The wet graze of your tongue against his cupid’s bow spurred him further, lips tangled tantalizingly with yours as his fingers worked open the buttons on his vest.

The threshold had been breached.

The moment was yours for the taking, if you wanted it and you knew that you did.

Lost somewhere between drunk on lust and in love, you began to help him unbutton, starting at the bottom of his vest and continuing until your hands met in the middle of his chest. You followed this same pattern for both rows of buttons.

Coincidentally, this journey ended right above his heart, but another one was merely beginning.

Your hands were shaking with anticipation as you looked up to notice him already gazing at you lovingly. A tender smile curved his lips like a crescent moon and the sunlight bleeding out through the cracks in your soul made the stars in his eyes sparkle.

You cupped his cheek and pressed a gentle kiss onto the bridge of his nose. His arms encircled you, holding you flush against him and his shirtsleeves rode up on his forearms, exposing just a fraction of skin with a fine dusting of sand-colored hair.

You let him hold you to him as his lips attached to your neck. You imagined when he pulled back that there would be an imprint of lips, a tattoo of his love painted across your collarbone, signifying that you belonged to him alone.

You tilted your head to give him better access and he thanked you by delivering a loving nip to the column of your neck.

You hadn’t forgotten your intention.

With hands still shaking, you reached for his vest and pulled it open. His lips detached from your neck in an instant and long, elegant fingers wrapped around your wrist, effectively stopping you from undressing him.

His eyes were crystalline pools of skylight, airy and substantially quantified by the depths within them. They had a mirror-like quality and you could see yourself reflected in them as you held his gaze for a heartbeat too long.

“Only if…this is something that we both want…”

Willy’s words of brevity filled you with wonder.

“If I’m being honest with you, Willy…I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something more than I want you now.”

That single sentence melded with and fused into his soul. In a breath-to-breath admission of consent, your words had tied his tongue with cursive letters.

He breathed a sigh of relief and held within that exhale was his own consent. You had granted him permission, assuring him that you were not offering yourself out of obligation or for complacency’s sake and that thrilled him perhaps as much as the act itself would. He felt the blood rush to his groin and he moved beneath you, shifting your body weight more onto his thigh.

Willy nuzzled your cheek, dragging his nose along your soft skin. His arms had yet to unravel themselves from around you; he wanted to take his time. However, he was increasingly aware of his own sense of desperation. It had been some time since he had last gotten into bed with a lover.

Actually, the last time he had gotten into bed with anyone was with you.

Willy had a low sex drive, but on occasion it would crop up and remind him that he was, in fact, human and had needs, whether it was simple biology or heightened by the desire to connect with the one he loved.

Whenever he thought of a lover and what had previously been just some nameless face at the forefront of his mind, that vision was now you. Yours was the love he sought; your hands were the ones meant to hold his heart.

He let go of you and shrugged off his vest.

Your lips captured his once again and he imagined this was what dreams tasted like.

He went to stand up and you quickly took the hint and moved off his lap. He got up and began unbuttoning his white undershirt while you watched. He could see the fire burning in your irises, your pupils dilated with desire as you watched his delicate fingers pop open each button.

You knew better than to rush him; a treat as sweet as him was meant to be savored.

You took this opportunity to slip your own shirt off your body. With your skin exposed, his eyes traveled across your midsection and his fingers hesitated, fumbling the button he was on. His breath hitched and you swore you heard him whisper the word “beautiful” as he gazed upon you.

Once he had recovered, the swiftness with which he finished removing his undershirt made your head spin. In his haste, he had forgotten to remove his bow tie and unbutton his sleeve cuffs, which made you giggle. He seemed flustered, his cheeks reddening once he realized, and perhaps this was the first time you had ever witnessed him with a blush on his cheeks.

You reached out to help him and a soft chuckle dripped from his lips like maple syrup, “It would appear I’ve gotten a bit ahead of myself, my dear.”

You chuckled as well as his bow tie and undershirt were removed, “well, I’ll take it as a compliment…that you seem so eager to have me.”

Your words were spoken as if in jest, but his response was anything but.

“Doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt that I love,” he quoted, his smooth baritone steeping you in the tea of his desire. (William Shakespeare, Hamlet.)

It was enough to quiet your mind and when he said it, you felt your entire world get a little smaller. Your heightened senses had inflated your soul and carried you to the clouds. You were a runaway balloon stuck in a tree and his words were the hand that enclosed around your string. You had seen vast lands and known love in its many forms, but never until this moment had you felt so much in the presence of one.

His heart knew yours better than it knew itself and the cracks left by heartbreak were filled in by your endless love for each other.

You moved in to kiss him again and his hands cupped your warm cheeks. His breath tasted as sweet as the chocolate he made, which only made sense because of how often you saw him sampling it. He kept a bit in his coat that he’d pull out and nibble upon and often would you go sifting through his pockets for little treasures and treats that he had left over. Sometimes you found such delights that it had to have been no accident that they had been left behind. No, he knew your guilty pleasure was his chocolate and he made sure to satisfy your cravings, both for chocolate and for him, as often as possible.

Your tongue slipped inside his mouth and he finally graced your ears with a very delicate moan.

His hands moved down the length of your arms to finally grab your hips. He pulled you in, your pelvis against his, and you could feel the hard press of his bulge against your thigh.

While you kissed, he began to walk you backwards toward your shared bedroom.

You could not have torn your lips apart to look where you were going even if you wanted to.

You trusted him to get you there safely, perhaps more than you had ever trusted another person or at least you hadn’t trusted anyone this deeply in a very long time. Too many others had taken a hammer to your jawbreaker heart and smashed it to more manageably sized pieces, but once broken, it could never be put back together without its’ once-pristine surface now marred with jagged cracks.

At least the breakage let the light of your soul pour out into his hands…

Willy was stained by your brokenness, his heart bruised the color of your trauma.

He had been burned before, broken in a very real way, and therefore it was never a question of if you would trust him, but how much and when. He knew how long it could take a person to truly open up if they wanted to, but for you, he was willing to wait an eternity and then some.

Time stood still and Willy had the presence of mind to remember how it felt to cradle your body to his when the only things that cemented your souls was an equal share of trust and love for one another and the mutual decision to take just one more chance.

You sighed with relief when the backs of your knees connected with the mattress.

Willy didn’t push you or press for more. His lips left yours in favor of your neck and several chaste yet sweet kisses were left along your collar bone as if his lips were asking for permission without the accompaniment of words.

In between you, you reached for his belt.

He felt your fingers wrap around the waistband of his trousers and a gentle smirk crossed his features, “after something, are we?”

His coy response made the tips of your ears get hot and you huffed, “well, it isn’t my fault that I’ve gone and gotten all excited…”

“I hope you’re not implying that it’s mine,” he replied as his smirk widened.

“I wasn’t implying anything,” your time spent with him had sharpened your wit, “I’m saying it.”

His eyes shared in your mirth, twinkling with laughter at your response. He wrapped an arm around your lower back and pulled you in. With his cheek to yours, lips near your ear, he whispered, “shall we make use of your excitement, then, dear?”

You felt a shudder run down your spine as he spoke to you, the dulcet undertones of his honeyed voice pierced you like a knife through the delicate flesh of an orange. You wanted to sink your fingers into his heart and peel it apart to devour the pieces, sustaining yourself on his love.

You nodded and he deemed it appropriate to continue. He gently pushed your hands from his belt and took on the task himself. He pulled it from the loops and laid it on the chair nearest to him.

When he turned back to you, you were already removing your pants. He smiled to himself, stopping in his tracks to admire you as you undressed. He almost wanted to help you, but held himself back. Mutual trust came at a price and he would not want to overstep any unspoken boundaries. You had not explicitly told him not to help, but you hadn’t told him to do it either and so he decided it was best to let you indicate what you wanted from him and how comfortable you were with the situation.

Neither you nor he were particularly trusting individuals. Your experiences with people who took advantage of others made you wary and skeptical, through no fault of your own. Maturity and wisdom came with age and while you had both grown and learned, you had built walls around yourselves both figuratively and literally, in Wonka’s case, to guard your hearts and protect them.

Now, you were bearing your souls to each other.

It was an unlikely thing, but you were both ready. You had known Wonka for a long time now and you had no doubt that you and he were meant to be in each other’s lives. There was a reason that you were here. Even though you might have needed a bit of reassurance from time to time, it was never because you truly thought he might leave you. Giving word to that unreasonable fear set you free, because in your heart of hearts you realized that you were not afraid at all.

You were lonely.

You had forced it down for years, but acknowledging it now was cathartic, because never again would you find yourself isolated like you had so many years before.

Willy was no stranger to isolation either. Though he had reasons other than your own, he empathized.

It was difficult, at times, for the two of you to find a rhythm. Both of you had been alone for so long that it took time to become acclimated to sharing your lives with each other, but in this moment you both knew that there was no person you would each rather share a life with than each other.

Willy was never at risk of pulling away. He was simply learning how to love you.

As soon as you pushed off your pants and stepped out of them, he was kissing you again. In a flourish of limbs and bare skin, you fell backwards onto the mattress with him. His hot lips descended over yours as his fingers linked into the spaces between your own. In all ways except for one, your two bodies were unified and, if either of you could help it, that would soon be remedied.

The mattress dipped and shifted beneath your shared weight as Willy crawled on top of you. You held his hands for as long as you were capable of doing before you needed to feel him more solidly at your fingertips. You dropped his hand, grabbed his shoulder and dug in your nails to hear him hiss into your ear and nip at your neck.

He couldn’t even finish undressing because you demanded every ounce of his attention.

Your spirits were engaged in this battle of carnality and you had consumed him, corrupted his mind and possessed him body and soul, but all’s fair in love and war, both of which you had waged fervently on his senses.

At risk of ruining the moment, he pulled away and got up to finish removing his trousers. Your chest heaved as you took a moment to catch your breath, propping yourself up on one arm.

“And here I thought…we were just getting to the good part,” I quipped. A teasing smile bloomed on my face as he turned to look down at me.

“And I thought you liked my kisses,” He replied without missing a beat.

His lopsided grin made you giggle, but the sound of his zipper being pulled down tore your attention away from the witty banter. The fire of fierce need had begun to burn bright inside your belly once again after being extinguished to mere embers only seconds ago.

You watched him kick off his trousers and make no move to pick them up.

He moved back down onto the bed and leaned into you. You met him halfway and pecked a chaste kiss onto his lips. Your bodies fit together like two immaculately chiseled sculptures whose delicate features appeared to be made of something much softer than stone.

You knew what he wanted from you now and you felt goosebumps rising on your flesh as you anticipated his caress.

He cupped your head, holding you to him as he lowered you back against the pillows. He liked to take charge of this part himself and you let him, despite the anxiety you felt at relinquishing control over yourself. You didn’t like feeling out of control, especially of your body and Willy knew this. He tried his best to make you feel comfortable and safe, never moving forward without verbal consent.

“Shall I touch you, dear?”

You reflected on his question before you nodded, swallowing thickly before you could make a sound, “yes.”

You knew that he would check in with you frequently to make certain you still wished to continue.

With your consent, his fingertips grazed the length of your arms. His warm touch sent pleasant shivers through you and you fought the urge to arch into him. He had a way of making you feel everything he wanted you to feel with just one touch. It was like magic, the control he had over your body and sometimes you wondered if his creative abilities branched into other realms as well.

His hands slid down your sides, massaging your warm skin and admiring your supple curves, the angles and indentations of your hips. Before he traveled lower, Willy wanted to devote some appreciation to the rest of your body first. His hands moved to your back, working underneath you to swiftly unclip your bra. He had a way of doing things so fast that you barely had time to register what he was doing before it was done. Perhaps it didn’t seem possible, but impossibility did not exist where Willy Wonka came from; if there was a way to do the impossible, he had already figured it out and told no one.

With your unclasped bra no longer pulled taut, he delicately pushed the straps off your shoulders and plucked the hindersome piece of fabric away from your chest. It dropped unceremoniously to the floor and his blue eyes glittered with mischief when he looked upon your exposed breasts.

You wanted to cover them, but he held your arms at your sides. True to the creative genius he was, he had to admire beauty where and when he saw it and you were a masterpiece. His tight smile had relaxed as he gazed down at you beneath him and he practically cooed with appreciation for your form.

“You’re very beautiful,” he whispered heatedly, like it was almost difficult for him to get the words out. He was overwhelmed with all his attention focused on the body before him.

You wanted to thank him for the compliment, but all that came out was a soft squeak.

He chuckled at your little sound and bent his head. He placed a firm kiss on your left breast and you sighed in pleasure at the gentle touch of his plush lips on your pillowy skin. His lips traced the curves of your breasts before encircling one of your nipples, suckling lightly as if it were a piece of candy.

You mewled and arched into his mouth, desiring more from him and as quickly as possible, but Willy liked to take his time with you. He never left you unsatisfied, but you could expect nothing to be fast paced.

His fingers wrapped around your hips to hold you in place as he moved to your other breast and did the same thing. His hot tongue teased your candy pieces to hardness and he hummed his appreciation, sending waves of pleasure down to your core.

You squirmed in his grasp and whimpered pathetically, “please, Willy,” you begged him, “I want you now.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have me, dear,” he reassured you, his thumbs rubbing placatingly against your hips, “when I’m ready for you to.”

His teasing remark made you huff in irritation until his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your cotton panties and paused you in your tracks.

You whined as his fingers barely breached the fabric barrier before he removed them. His hands moved to your inner thighs and spread your legs apart for him to nestle in between them.

All you could do was watch as he leaned closer and pressed a kiss to your navel, just below your belly button. His kisses traveled lower and lower down your pelvis to your pubic bone and finally to your core. You writhed in pleasure when his mouth found its way to where you wanted it, but your panties were still in the way and you groaned with frustration.

Heat emanated from your core due to your arousal and the crotch of your panties were damp with your wetness.

Your head dropped back against the pillow as he used the tip of his nose to brush lightly against your clit through your panties.

You were so pliant to his will and responsive to his touch that he almost felt powerful. If it had been anyone other than him, he would have, but all he felt in this moment was an overwhelming feeling of love. The fact that he could give you a comfortable experience of vulnerability and pleasure perhaps did enflame his ego a bit, but he loved you even more for it. To see you enjoying yourself because of him was almost too much for him to handle and he could feel his cock swell to attention.

He placed a couple of open-mouthed kisses to the crotch of your panties before he dragged them down your legs. He would have liked to tease you more, but he was already beginning to lose patience and he didn’t want to rush through too quickly.

With your panties removed, he could admire your glistening folds and the sweet juices that had dribbled out of you. His mouth watered as he delved in for a taste, his tongue tentatively flickering against your opening.

You let out a cry and bucked your hips, desperate for him to fill you. You needed friction and fullness to achieve release and Willy knew you couldn’t get either of those things without his compliance. He smirked at that and lowered his head between your thighs.

Your hot core pulsed as more of your honey leaked onto his tongue. He moaned in satisfaction, savoring the taste of your sweetness and the delicious sounds you were making for him. He had never tasted anything this sweet except for his chocolate and if he could have only one of those two things right now he would have picked you without a second thought.

It was almost too much for him to pull his mouth away, but he knew that he must if he were to indulge in the ultimate act of pleasure with you. You both wanted that more than you wanted air to breathe. A greater craving than candy, your existing love and soul connection a stronger aphrodisiac than chocolate.

With a final flick of his tongue against your clit, he dragged his mouth off you. You whimpered at the loss, but in the back of your lust-flavored cotton candy mind you knew that your shared night of pleasure was just beginning.

He got off the bed again and opened the nightstand drawer. He withdrew a small tinfoil packet and a small clear bottle of lubricant.

You were still sprawled out on the mattress, your hair a halo around your head. The darkened room made it difficult to see what he was doing, but your eyes had adjusted enough for you to see movement.

You felt eyes on you and before you glanced up from the object he was holding, his voice broke the silence, “are you comfortable continuing?”

Driven by lust and lover’s greed, you nodded your consent. Willy did not respond at first, waiting on your actual acknowledgement and proper agreement. Your voice was shaky as you replied to him, but you knew what you wanted and were certain in your response, “yes. I want this. I want you, Willy.”

The sincerity in your voice convinced him and he tore open the condom wrapper.

Excitement thrilled you and coursed through your veins, carried into your heart by blood. Your body was singing with sensation as you wanted nothing more than his solid body atop you, his hard length buried in your tight heat.

You watched him with barely-concealed enthusiasm – well, perhaps the only concealment was from the darkness in the bedroom – as he took off his underwear and rolled the condom on. He then squirted a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and coated his cock.

You could hear him jerking himself off and the obscenely slick sounds from the generous amount of lube. He had yet to give himself any physical stimulation up until this point and you were eager to repay the favor.

In the dark, your reached for him and he came to you, ready to meld together and fill you full of himself.

He positioned himself on top and guided your legs around his hips. He propped himself up with one forearm flat against the mattress so that he wouldn’t rest his entire body weight on you and the other guided his condom-covered tip to your entrance.

He gave your forehead a tender kiss as he pressed in. Your lips parted at your sharp intake of breath and your muscles tightened and seized around him. Willy kissed your face, calming you and keeping you still and relaxed until he bottomed out.

He nuzzled against your cheek and moved his free arm behind you to cradle your head.

You tilted your head back and captured his lips. The two of you kissed lazily for several moments as your bodies adjusted to one another. Your walls twitched around his cock, sending jolts of electricity down to his toes, into the pit of his stomach and behind his eyes. Everything felt fuzzy and seemed out of focus except for you.

The one thing that was clear to him was his love for you and the appreciation he had for you being a part of his life. If he could not trust a single soul with his legacy, he knew that he could trust you with himself and that was more than enough.

For once, nothing made you question Willy Wonka; his intentions were clear.

Your fears were just that: fear. It was irrational and based on nothing of consequence. However, the very fact that you were afraid let you and he both know how much you cared.

You would never take Willy, and he would never take you, for granted.

He would reassure you that though he was not used to sharing his world with another, that you were his world now and you would share in every aspect with him and reap the rewards of a unique and whimsical life with perhaps the greatest chocolatier who ever lived.

Take out all the fantasy and spectacle and you were left with only love and imagination.

All these people thought the most fantastical thing about Willy Wonka were his creations, but what took your breath away, and had since the beginning, was the man behind those creations.

You had fallen in love with him as much as you had with his brain and his intellect, his body, his soul. You wanted to dip your fingers into him like if he were made of melted chocolate. You would lick the essence of his existence off your fingertips to taste his candy-coated soul and sugared thoughts. There were not many candies or chocolates of the Wonka brand that you hadn’t tried, but none were sweeter than the man himself.

If he existed only in your mind, then your mind was alive with the thought of him.

All too soon, your thoughts abandoned you as you felt him begin to move.

He slowly pulled out, angled his hips and pushed back in.

The sudden movement jarred your body and you clung to him tighter.

As he began to set a pace, you rolled your hips down onto him each time that he pushed in. This seemed to please him, witnessing you thrusting with him, your bodies moving in unison toward a shared release and reciprocation of pleasure.

He grunted softly in your ear with the effort of thrusting into you. His soft curls tickled your cheek and you bit back a giggle. A particularly rough thrust ripped the sound from your throat and you laughed aloud.

His brows furrowed in amusement at your laughter, but he grinned with you nonetheless.

His thrusts became harsher, deepening as you adjusted and conformed to the rhythm and pace he set that was creating a delicious friction between your legs. You moaned shamelessly into his ear and he thrusted harder, encouraged by the sinful sounds you were making.

Willy kissed you, his lips feverishly moved against yours as he held you in his embrace and your skin blazed with red hot fervor. A thin sheen of sweat clung to your bodies and you could feel the heat rolled off him in waves. Sweat beaded on his upper lip, but it didn’t bother you as you kissed him harder, demanding more intensity out of your shared intimacy. Your core pulsed, muscles gripping and clenching tightly around his cock.

Your moans began to take on a higher pitch the closer you got to your release. Willy could tell that you were close now and he was eager to send you over the edge. Sex was, at least for him, about mutual enjoyment and gratification, not domination, exploitation or manipulation. It was about individuals who loved each other enough to put aside their individuality and become one, just for a moment of bliss.

His forehead pressed against yours as he thrusted into you harder than before, his pace becoming erratic the closer he came to his own release.

As he panted, you felt his breath fan across your face and he smelled of chocolate.

You balanced on the edge of oblivion as your feverish coupling would soon send you into orgasm.

After a few more hard thrusts, Willy slipped a hand between your legs and gently rubbed your clit. Your release seized you, your body shaking violently with hurricane force winds of equal parts pleasure and zest. It was as if the air had been knocked out of you and you were falling down into his waiting arms. Ecstasy radiated from your core, carried in waves throughout your body.

You were alone with your pleasure, waiting on your lover to join you in the afterglow.

You cried out his name as he thrusted into you through your orgasm. He lasted several moments after you came before he released, filling the condom with several hot bursts of his seed.

He had just enough strength left in his body to pull out and collapse beside you. His harsh panting soon turned to gentle sighs as his heartrate decreased and his body cooled. His strawberry blonde curls were plastered to his forehead with sweat and were sticking out at wild angles except for the top which was always a bit flattened from the way he wore his hat.

You reached out and petted his frizzy hair, your fingers delicately massaging his scalp. He let out a quiet little moan and you smiled at him.

With a deep inhale, he sat up and peeled the sticky condom off his softening prick. He tied it up and tossed it in the wastebin, then snatched his underwear off the ground. He picked yours up as well and handed them to you for you to slip on.

You got off the bed and put your panties back on, then crossed the room to the bathroom. A few moments later, when you returned after you had cleaned yourself up, you found him lying in bed waiting for you.

He smiled at you as you approached and extended an arm out to let you curl into his side as you got back on the bed with him. He already had a blanket laid out to pull across your nude bodies so that you could cuddle in modesty and without getting a chill.

He looked down to watch you settle in and you met his gaze for a moment, appreciating his features. His gorgeous blue eyes were like pools of galaxy speckled with stars. His aquiline nose, which most people thought was too big for his face, looked proportionate in your opinion and beautiful just the same. He had the softest features of any man you had ever seen, slightly chubby cheeks, a round face and curved jawline. He was exquisite in every sense of the word and just looking at him made you fall more deeply in love.

As attractive as he was to you, his personality spoke to yours in a language only the two of you spoke fluently.

His appreciation for literature and culture was unique and inspiring and, because it tied in with your own, you learned a lot from each other. His quick wit and casual snide remarks that often passed over other people’s heads made you laugh as though you were enjoying your own little joke with each other.

During your private appreciation for this man, you concluded that you had no reason to ever think he might be pulling away from you.

In surreal Willy Wonka fashion, he seemed to read your thoughts as he finally spoke, “I’d like to see you in the Inventing Room with me tomorrow. I want you to be as involved with the holiday busy season as I am.”

He addressed your insecurities by offering a solution to the problem and your heart felt a bit lighter. He wanted you to be involved in his work so that you didn’t feel so isolated or lonely. He had promised to be more attentive and he intended to do just that, but you could offer him aid and visit him while he worked. True love was buoyed by compromise; you’d see to it that you did your part to keep your relationship strong.

“Forgive me for not being as attentive as I should be,” he continued, “I’ve been so busy, not to excuse myself.”

“I understand,” you replied.

He seemed surprised for a moment, as if he half-expected you to still be upset, “and it isn’t entirely your fault. I should come around more if I’m missing you. We’ll find a solution. We have time.” Willy put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close so he could kiss your head, “time is a precious thing, my dear. Never waste it.”

Between his words, you heard what he was not saying.

And while he had a point, what you did have was now.

You could agree just to exist for a moment, sharing in the silence of the universe and listening to nothing but your dreams and the sounds of your hearts.

You would fall into each other the same way that you fell in love: accidentally and achingly slow.

One day you would both look up and see how far you had come, but for now, you still had a way to go.

You knew his heart belonged to yours and that was enough to keep trying. Once the busy season calmed down and you had more time to focus on the two of you, you would ease into it like lovers were meant to, but right now you had an obligation to yourselves not to let the fear of failure drive you apart.

It might seem fatalistic to ruin a relationship before it had run its course, but you’d seen it happen and the last thing you wanted was for that to be yours.

You knew deep down that it wouldn’t happen.

Your love was as strong as your imaginations were wild and no mind would ever dare dream the two of you apart.

#willy Wonka #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #willy wonka 1971 #wilder!wonka #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka imagine #willy wonka and the chocolate factory imagine #gene wilder #biblio :: 📖

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genericpuff · 5 months

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I simply don’t agree that Aphrodite sleeping with zeus was coercion. Eros was rightfully going to be punished for doing the same crime as persephone. Aphrodite was the one manipulating zeus into sleeping with her again to lessen his punishment. (And they had a previous relationship/fling considering Eros is his GRANDSON and Aphrodite definitely hurt Hera in that process as well) if Eros was innocent I would understand the viewpoint but Zeus was doing his job and he is scummy for being so easily swayed but Aphrodite was perfectly scummy as well using sex to get her son off the hook.

I don't entirely disagree with some of the points you raise (that Eros had committed an act of wrath that led to this whole thing to begin with). That said, I think that more proves the point that Rachel's framing could have been more clear, as it's why the debate of "is it coercion or not" even exists in that scene. Yeah, she was totally attempting to get her son off scot-free from committing an act of wrath, but then the plot expects us to also root for Persephone to get off easy, who still gets a trial. It might not be a fair trial, but the implication with the Eros / Aphrodite / Zeus scene was that Zeus was just gonna go straight into punishment without even bothering to give him a trial to plea his case. And unlike Persephone, Eros didn't go to insane lengths to hide it from Zeus and Hades (which was more why Zeus took such offense with Persephone's Act of Wrath in the first place - he didn't care that she killed people, he cared that she killed people and then hid it from him and his brothers.)

Apparently Artemis and Apollo were outright celebrated for committing an act of wrath.

(notice how Zeus shifts the goalposts from it being about the death of 300 mortals to it being about Eros harboring a mortal?)

In the original Greek myths, acts of wrath were common. Poseidon would drown sailors at sea, Aphrodite and Eros would toy with the emotions and lives of mortals who had wronged them, and Demeter has created an entire dang season that resulted in the starvation of mortals en masse.

So in LO, which is it? Are acts of wrath something that need to be taken to trial? Or are they not that big a deal and Zeus is simply an asshole who picks and chooses who he punishes? Because when taking how he treated Persephone's act of wrath into context - as well as Artemis and Apollo's - then him deciding to punish Eros right then and there seems a little unwarranted, I don't blame Aphrodite for trying to think on her feet. I'd like to think if he was willing to offer Persephone a trial, he could do the same for his grandson, but evidently not. He didn't even know Apollo and Artemis were his kids yet back when he rewarded them for murdering people, so his relation to them can't even be used as a "well clearly he's biased towards his kids".

If it's meant to highlight how unfair of a king Zeus is, then flipping the script from Aphrodite to Zeus offering sex as a bargaining chip would have made the intention a lot more clear. That said, I do still agree with the notion that Aphrodite was clearly backed into a corner here knowing fully well that her son was about to be unfairly punished for something that wasn't even being given a fair trial or route to defend himself. That's why I argue that Aphrodite is still a victim of coercion, even if she's the one who "offered first". It says more about Zeus that Aphrodite even felt the need to go that far in the first place IMO.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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to-the-stars8 · 11 months

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Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3

To the anon who asked me about the fight scene, I found it, so this chapter to you my dude! Also, on a separate note, I wrote this early on in the story, so all events in this chapter are some time before chapters 49-52

53- Fire and Frustration

You and Jason never fought—Correction, the two of you hardly ever fought. Most of the time, the two of you came to a nice compromise and were able to discuss your feelings about the situation. Then again, not every fight could be resolved right away. Sometimes things got too intense in your arguments.

Practically seething, you could hardly look Jason in the eye, turning away from him with your hands on your hips. For the umpteenth time, he had disappeared without a word. The first time was an easy offense to forgive, the two of you were still figuring out things so it was natural for a bit of miscommunication. Then it happened again, and again. The two of you talked about it endlessly— trying to figure out how this part of Jason’s life wouldn’t outweigh the other parts of yours together.

Still, this endless conversation about his just up and going when work beckoned was starting to get on your nerves. For a while, you attempted to just keep your feelings about him leaving close to your chest in hopes that it would all sort out eventually. Then, he left you with silence for two whole weeks. Jason was apologetic when he came back, assuring you that this was yet another dire situation with the usual list; this mission needed his full attention, it was too dangerous for him to be around, he didn’t want you to worry, etc.

You didn’t know which was more annoying, the fact that he could use those same excuses over again and you would believe him, or the fact that you knew they were really true. After holding in your anger for so long, you’d met Jason with overflowing anger. When you first started to yell, you took a second to think how wrong it was to talk to him in such a way, but you were too blinded by temporary frustration to care.

Unfortunately, Jason had a short fuse, too, from the stress, so the flames on both sides burst into a huge house fire.

“We’ve been together too long for you not to trust me,” Jason said, voice low like he was trying to keep himself from yelling. Despite the anger festering in his chest after you had just spent half an hour practically lashing out at him, he refused to let go fully. He loved you too much to act worse than already was.

You scoffed, throwing up your hands in frustration. “This isn’t about trust, Jason! It’s about you not talking to me about this stuff.”

“Stuff?” The question was sarcastic. Jason knew exactly what you meant.

You shook your head. “Your vigilante life. We go over this again and again, let me in just a little so I know what it all is. I just want you to talk to me, to tell me where you’re going to be if you’re going to be—”

“You know what this job is like—”

“I know! But that isn’t fair, I share almost every part of my life with you, I just ask for an inch—”

Jason chuckled, “You do, and I'm thankful for that! I can't control what happens in this line of work, but know I'll be back. Always. You don’t need to worry, I’ll be—”

“Stop talking over me!” You screamed, tears welling up in your eyes. “Why won’t you listen for once?”

Jason pushed himself away from the couch, walking toward you with a look of absolute anger in his eyes. “I always listen to you. When have I ever not listened to you?”

“When I need you to, honeybee. I need you to hear me when I say, please don’t leave me hanging. I worry, Jay. We’ve been over this before. Too many times, in fact.”

Jason stared down at you cooly, and, despite you behind right, he couldn’t bring himself to speak more about the topic entirely. He knew why you were angry, and would even agree with you about it. If he were in your shoes, Jason would be acting the same way. When he looked at you, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed, he realized how much all of this meant to you.

Scratching his chin, Jason tried to work out how to fix this, but he was still too distracted by wanting to argue that you needed to not worry about him so much. Yet, you wanted in so fucking bad apparently, out of uneasiness for his wellbeing. The realization made him feel his fuck up.

Sucking in a breath, he finally said, “Let’s talk about this later.”

“No,” Your voice cracked and so did Jason’s heart.

He turned back to you, hand coming up under your jaw softly, nudging you to meet his gaze. “I just…Fuck, let me cool off, okay? I promise I’ll come back. I—I can’t talk right now.”

You nodded, whispering, “Yeah, that sounds good. I’m still pretty pissed at you.”

Jason let out a breathy chuckle, “Yeah. Me too.”

“Kiss me before you go, honey,” You said.

He didn’t even think twice before leaning down to capture your lips in a momentary kiss. Even with the fire burning, the craving for each other would never go away. This was just a moment in the years that both of you wanted to come, it would be fixed.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” You breathed, the smoke of the fire finally starting to clear out. “See you later, babe.”

#jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd #romance #jason todd x you #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd robin #batfamily #alfred pennyworth #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood fanfic #red hood x you #red hood x y/n

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callmelola111 · 11 months

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guilty conscience ☆ part five

← part 1 , part 2 , part 3 , part 4 ⭑

synopsis: it’s your first year at college and you’re 1,500 miles away from home. you’d feel completely alone if it wasn't for your attractive roommate ellie. will this attraction complicate the already uncharted territory? or will she be the answer to all your problems?

|✯| pairing & wc: college!ellie williams x roommate!reader. wc: 1.2k

|✯| cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), fem reader, modern au!ellie, some angst, mild swearing, cat, discussions of cheating, light sexual themes

a/n: sorry to end on a more boring note, i was starting to lose inspiration at the end but i wanted to give y'all a happy ending after dragging reader through the mud these past 4 parts lol. thank you for the support on my first series, it has meant so so much to me. if you like my writing and want to see more feel free to leave a follow!! i have so many ideas in the works and coming to you guys hopefully very very soon. ♡

The sound of Cat’s voice echoed through the now silent bathroom. You and Ellie stood frozen in the stall just feet away from danger. Her hand remained over your mouth as your eyes glazed over with fear. All that bliss Ellie had given you just moments before was quickly ripped from your grasp by Cat herself. You were terrified for what was to come. As much as you hated Cat, Ellie was hers fair and square. She didn’t belong to you.

Ellies thoughts were less rational than yours as she began to picture the potential outcomes. You felt her hands get clammy on your face and the once present confidence vanish. Cat’s voice spoke again and you were both jolted out of your fear responses and faced with reality.

“Ellie, I can see your shoes just come out and-” her voice cut when she spotted a second pair of shoes in the stall along with her girlfriend. It was you. The bitch she was worried about the whole relationship; all of her fears were coming true.

“Ellie, who else is in there??”

With nowhere to run you and Ellie stepped outside of the stall and confronted the angry Cat. Ellie gushed out a string of apologies which you unjustly took offense to.

“You’re seriously saying sorry after I told you all about her little lie??” She already fucked you, the damage had been done, why bother with Cat if you’re the one she really wants?

“I don’t know, I don't know what I’m doing.” Ellie placed her head in her calloused hands. After everything, she felt so impartial to all of this, just wanting the drama to stop. Cat jumped in, trying to steer Ellie in her direction.

“Els, she's lying. I haven’t said shit to her. She’s just trying to drive a wedge in between us.” Ellie wasn’t even given a chance to speak as you jumped in to defend yourself.

“I’m not, you know I wouldn't do that. Cat’s the one who was mean to me in class before she even knew you and I were roommates.”

With this new development, Ellie decided to speak up, “You guys have a class together? Why did no one tell me?”

“I thought your girlfriend would’ve told you, and after a while of you guys dating I decided it best not to bud in anyways.” you explained.

Cat raced to cut you off, “You decided it best not to bud in? What are you doing right now, huh? You’re a liar. Ellie, she's a liar!!!” Ellie stood there dissociating from the “pick me, choose me” competition being held between her girlfriend and roommate. When she noticed the two of you silent, staring wide-eyed for approval, she finally spoke.

“I don’t know who to believe anymore. With all this fighting and drama I think it would be best to not get involved with either of you. I’m sorry…” Before you could say a word, she was gone with a swing of the bathroom door.

You sink down to the floor, letting the cold sensation of the tiles consume you. Cat had already disappeared in pursuit of Ellie but her harsh words had left you less than eager to continue the hunt. It was a reality check hearing Ellie stack you right along with Cat like that. Like you were just as delusional and obnoxious as her. No fucking way. You stayed in that same spot for a few more minutes before finally pulling yourself out of the self-pity thought spiral and going home.

Expectedly, you didn’t see or hear from Ellie after that. Your next few days consisted of school and Dina only. You pushed through your academic afternoons and then went straight to hers where she coached you through your heartbreak with movies, snacks, and music. Dina was the best friend you could’ve ever asked for. She let you talk shit and gush about Ellie as much or as little as you wanted. She learned all the ins and outs of your desperate love story and slowly realized it isn’t a lost cause just yet. Being a 3rd party bystander gave her the advantage to see a perspective you couldn’t. And seeing you hurt so much, she was willing to do whatever she could to aid the pain.

Dina quickly collected the evidence she needed and headed to talk to Ellie herself. She was determined to make this right. You had earned your happy ending and she was going to give it to you.

After asking just about everyone, Dina finally located Ellie who had been staying at her bandmates house. She was hesitant to talk at first but Dina had a way with words and soon enough they were deep in conversation about you, her, and the whole unfair situation. Dina came with receipts from the night of Ellie’s first show. Her texts showed you talking about Cat being there and being from your class. It was solid proof, not that you should have to prove yourself, but Dina gave Ellie the benefit of the doubt.

“I feel so stupid. This whole time I’ve been dating some bully when I could’ve been with Y/n.” Ellie explained, regret lacing her voice. Dina could tell she was caught up in her head about it all and urged her with advice.

“There’s still time for a happy ending Ellie. Do something now and feel sorry later.” She was blunt but right.

Ellie shot into action with a new sense of justice to her. Before you knew it she was standing in the door of your shared dorm bearing gifts and an apologetic smile.

“Ellie?” your eyes welled with salty tears. You didn’t think you’d be seeing her again so soon. And as she saw you stand there breaking she opened her arms welcoming your vulnerability. You accepted her embrace and buried your head into her chest as she used her palm to smooth your hair.

Ellie whispered into you, “I choose you Y/n. It’s always been you.”

“But… Cat…” you whimpered. Ellie squeezed you in tighter at the sound of your insecurity.

“I’ve liked you since day one Y/n. The only reason Cat ever came into my life was because it was easy. I knew if I was honest with my feelings about you I’d be susceptible to the pain that comes along with it. I didn’t wanna lose you. My fear of being alone took over and I picked to be with someone I knew I could never feel something real to avoid any actual hurt. It sounds so stupid when I say it out loud, but it’s true”

“It’s not stupid Ellie. I get it.” She crumbled with your words of reassurance. You felt a sense of safety within her arms and Ellie felt the same. She finally pulled back to retrieve a bundle of wild flowers she picked especially for you.

“Please, be mine, and I’ll be completely yours. Let me make up for all the lost time.”

Your expression softened, “Of course I’ll be yours Els.” She pulled you in by your waist and planted a long awaited kiss to your blushed lips. Forbidden love all of the sudden felt so overrated as you showered your new girlfriend with affection. Ellie wasn’t scared anymore and neither were you. There was a sense of peace and belonging that the two of you shared that day that no one could interfere with. It was love.

← masterlist ⭑

taglist ☆...

@machetegirl109 @gold-dustwomxn @menatoia @ximtiredx @robinismywifee @elliepricefield @alexpritch @jokirxmae @slaysksmska

#ellie williams #wlw #ellie williams fanfic #ellie smut #ellie tlou #ellie williams fan fiction #ellie williams series #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou2 #tlou 2 smut #tlou dina #tlou part 2 #the last of us #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie x you #ellie x y/n

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airas-story · 4 months

Text

Addiction

“I love you.”

Stephen glanced up at his boyfriend, immediately suspicious. “What did you do?”

Tony placed a hand to his heart in a gesture clearly calculated to express innocence. “Absolutely nothing.”

Stephen didn’t believe it for a second, the gesture was far too calculated, for one. For the other, while Stephen knew without a doubt that Tony loved him, he didn’t tend toward vocal expressions, preferring the method of ‘show, don’t tell’ that occasionally resulted in ostentatious displays that Stephen found reluctantly endearing. “Then why do I not believe you?”

“You don’t believe I love you?” Tony asked, sounding genuinely offended.

Stephen waved his hand in dismissal. “Oh, I know you love me. What I don’t believe is that you didn’t do anything.” There was a flicker in Tony’s eyes that only served to reinforce Stephen’s belief that Tony had done something he wasn’t supposed to do.

“Your lack of faith is hurtful,” Tony said, miming a dagger to the heart. “It’s like you don’t love me.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “I love you. I just also happen to know you.”

A smile tugged at Tony’s lips, and Stephen knew that it was something Tony was never going to get tired of: the fact that Stephen knew him and loved him anyways.

At least that was how Tony saw it, even if Stephen thought it was more astounding that anyone could know Tony and not love him.

“So,” Stephen continued, not letting himself get distracted. “What did you do?”

Tony sighed, the sort of sigh that meant he was giving in to the inevitable. “Nothing bad.”

Stephen examined him for a moment before deciding that it was probably true, at least from Tony’s point of view. Sometimes they had differing ideas of what constituted as ‘bad’.

“Expound, please. I think I’m perhaps a slightly better judge of whether something is ‘bad’ or not.”

Tony gave a sort of half-hearted shrug. “I, uh, may have gotten your cloak addicted to laundry detergent?”

Stephen blinked. “What?”

“I may have gotten your cloak addicted to laundry detergent,” Tony repeated, as though the words were going to suddenly make sense just because Tony had said them again.

They didn’t.

“How did you get the cloak addicted to laundry detergent?” Stephen asked. “They’re self-cleansing. It’s part of the enchantments woven into their being.” He glanced at where the cloak was suddenly busy ‘perusing’ the shelves of the library, playing innocent.

Stephen had a bad feeling about this.

“It’s not my fault,” Tony defended, despite the fact that he still hadn’t explained just how he’d managed it. “The cloak was getting jealous! I was just trying to make things fair!”

“Jealous?”

Tony nodded. “The cloak saw me oiling DUM-E and U and wanted their own ‘bonding’ time.” Tony made a face. “Okay, so the cloak probably doesn’t actually care about bonding with me, but they are an attention hog, and they’re willing to pretend they want to bond with me if it means I’ll pay them attention.”

The cloak fluffed up a little in offense.

It was true, though. The cloak loved when they were the center of attention.

Stephen thought it probably was very telling that the cloak had chosen to bond with him. He was well aware of what people thought of Stephen’s own attention-seeking tendencies.

“And that ended with laundry detergent addiction how?” He narrowed his eyes at the cloak who, now that they were being judged, had decided that the books looked interesting again.

Stephen turned back to Tony.

“Well, we tried a few things. Then I found an expensive hand-wash detergent.”

Stephen just stared at him. From the corner of his eye he saw the cloak wiggle in delight.

Tony shrugged.

Stephen decided that it didn’t matter if the cloak was his, Tony was the one who was going to have to deal with this. Stephen wasn’t paid enough to. “You know what. You got them addicted, you have to deal with their cravings.”

Tony made a face. “Fine. But I’m restating it for the record, this really isn’t my fault. And anything that happens here on out is happening with your knowledge and permission. Isn’t that right, cloak?”

The cloak flew over so that they were between Tony and Stephen and nodded vigorously.

For a moment, Stephen doubted his choice to make this Tony’s problem. Then he considered having to deal with it on his own and decided that tomorrow’s problems were just that: tomorrow’s problems.

“Only you,” Stephen said. His tone came out more fondly amused than exasperated, which was only going to serve to encourage Tony in the long run. “Only you would get an ancient relic addicted to laundry detergent.”

#tony stark #stephen strange #ironstrange #fic #cloak of levitation

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tallulah477 · 1 month

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The Block Button & Why It’s Important

It seems like some people are a bit confused about how the block button works so here’s a mini crash course:

1. Someone posts content you don’t like. Block.

2. Someone is being a creep or making you uncomfortable. Block.

3. Someone is leaving you hateful messages. Block.

4. You and another blog get into a fight that can’t reasonably be remedied. Block.

5. Maybe the fight can be remedied but the effort to do it comes at the cost of your mental health or the ignoring of your personal values or boundaries. Block.

6. Any other reason you deem a blockable offense. Block.

In the event that you or someone you know has been blocked, please see the following:

Accept that you or your friend has been blocked. There’s more than likely a very good reason as to why it happened and dwelling on it will cause nothing but stress for you.

Do not harass the blocker. This includes questions such as “why did you block them?” “Will you ever unblock them?” “I don’t understand why you blocked them” “I don’t think it’s fair that you blocked them”. They have their reasons and they do not owe you or anyone else any explanation as to why they decided to block someone. It’s their blog, their decision.

Some important things to note:

1. It is not selfish or rude to block someone. The block button exists for the sole reason of protecting your space. Use it liberally.

2. Someone else’s reaction to being blocked is not your responsibility. You don’t owe anyone any explanations. Be firm in your boundaries to protect your peace.

3. The block button, in rare form, can be willingly undone by the blocker (if and only if they choose to). Other than in that rare instance, the block button is forever. It’s not just a ‘time-out’ or until something “serious” happens. Blocking is with the intention of being permanent.

4. Blocking is also with the intention of ZERO contact with that person ever again. The blocker does not want to know updates about the person they blocked or what they’ve said or did. Stop feeding drama.

The block button is our friend. It’s supposed to give us peace and control for our online space here. It’s not meant to be a burden or caused of stress.

Please be respectful of other people’s decisions and be mindful of their boundaries.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk!

#𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒔 ♡

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ireadwithmyears · 15 days

Text

a flight risk with a fear of falling

pairing: commander Wolffe / fem reader

Word count: two.4K

Tags/warnings: mostly fluff and hurt/comfort, but suggestive at times. Sketchy fair rides, fear of falling summary: you and Wolffe attend a local fair. You have a great time, all goes well, until you’re stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel and are pretty convinced that you’re about to fall and die. Notes: reader is implied to be visually impaired here. However, of course, that does not mean you won’t enjoy if you’re not. This was just based off of a real life experience I had, and I couldn’t imagine writing it and the fear I felt without blindness being incorporated into it. Title is based off of the lyrics of mine by Taylor Swift.

You aren’t afraid of heights.

And really, you think, it would be silly for you to be, considering how little vision you have to look down at the world as it whizzes beneath you as you fly by.

You and Wolffe had eagerly scrambled to get on the roller coasters with the highest peaks with barely a second thought, been on the drop zone more than once in a row, and the whole time, you had only been screaming with delight and adrenaline fuelled anticipation, your commander only rolling his eyes fondly, unable to conceal the upward curve of his lips or the crinkle of amusement between his eyes as they gleam, bearing witness to your unbridled display of excitement with quiet satisfaction.

“As much as I love watching you becoming a little speed demon, meshla,” he says lowly, tucking you beneath his arm as you stumble, slightly woozy and breathless after your most recent ride, “maybe we should take a break from these.”

He indicates the line of brightly coloured roller coasters that stretch in front of you, loud Carnival Style music blaring from many of them, accompanied by the ambiance of constant shrieks as they speed above.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t love me if I threw up all over your new boots?” You ask with a pout, letting your head drop against his chest with a sigh.

“That’s not what I said,” he chides, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “But do you really want to share a speeder with me on the way home if I smell like that?” he gives you a slight poke, and you wrinkle your nose with a shake of your head.

“Fiine,” you say with a dramatic roll of your eyes. “Boost told me that a wolf plushy is up as a prize at one of the games. We should try and win it, to show some pride for the Wolfpack, you know?.”

His lips pull into a slight smirk as he gazes down at you. “Aren’t you actually suggesting that I should waste our precious tokens on a game that is probably a scam to try and win it for you?” he huffs, folding his arms across his chest as he gives you a playful scowl with a raised eyebrow. “Because no offense, but I don’t think your skill set lies in aiming rings at bottles, meshla,” he remarks, brushing a slight kiss against the tip of your nose.

Your pout transforms into a full on grin. “Yes, that’s exactly what I meant,” you confirm, completely unashamedly, with an enthusiastic nod. “You win the game, and I’ll be your personal cheerleader.”

“Hm,” Wolffe tilts his head, considering. “That would be more tempting if you were wearing the outfit,” he says, voice dropping, fingers lazily trailing down your side, idly making their path to your waist.

Your breath catches and you smack his arm playfully. “I don’t have a cheerleader outfit,” you announce, with a toss of your hair, placing a hand on your hip

You raise yourself up onto your tiptoes, leaning in and letting your own voice drop suggestively with a teasing smirk. “But, if you win the game, I’ll make sure that the night ends with my outfit scattered on the floor.”

There’s a moment of dead silence, tension crackling in the air as Wolffe’s eyes rake over your form, both hands reaching out to settle against your hips.

Then, he unexpectedly hoists you up into his arms, causing you to squeak with surprise, steadying your self by grasping at his shoulders as your eyes dance.

“Teasing little thing,” he hums, breath inches away from your ear as he speaks, making you shiver. “I’ll do it, then. But you better be prepared for us to lose all of our tokens on this, sweetheart.”

When he does actually manage to win, you’re pleasantly surprised.

Not because you had any doubt in him, of course. But because you genuinely believed that all of the fair games were scams. Wolffe is ceaseless in his determination, though, as evidenced by the very limited amount of tokens you have left. He lines up each shot with as much precision as you imagine he does on the battlefield, his natural confidence in his abilities riling up the games supervisors, as with their increasing befuddlement, they try to make it harder for him, especially, in the end, when his confidence is proven to be not unfounded in the slightest.

“Here you are, ner cyar,” he says, easy smile on his lips as he passes you the very large, gray wolf stuffed animal.

“Thank you,” you say excitedly, wrapping your arms around the plushy and jumping up to give Wolffe a chaste kiss.

Your lips pull into a smirk, holding up the stuffed animal with pride. “Looks like I’ve got a new favourite cuddle buddy, Wolffe,” you tease. “You were great, but, I think I just found your replacement,” you chuckle, and are abruptly cut off when swiftly, Wolffe reaches out, effortlessly plucking the wolf from your arms and holding him high above your head.

“Don’t even joke about that, meshla,” he warns, tauntingly dangling him just out of your reach as you desperately try to grab for him. “Uh uh,” he tsks, look of mock disapproval settling over his features as he holds the plushy above your head by his ear. “You take that back first, and I’ll give him back to you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Lucky for you, the stuffed wolf won’t be able to replace you as the big spoon. So please, can I have him back?”

“Good,” he says, smug smile on his face. Gently, he drops the stuffed animal, taking care to make sure that he lands in your arms without incident.

“We still have a few tokens,” you report, counting over the admittedly meagre supply. “We should go on the ferris wheel.”

“I hope you’re not trying to put off us going home so that I don’t get as much time to partake in the other part of the winnings you promised me,” he quips, tilting his head quizzically.

“Of course not,” you defend, holding up the last ride tokens. “I just don’t want these to go to waste. Besides, I’ve never been on one before.”

Wolffe gives you a grin, suddenly mischievous, pulling your arm through his and bending his elbow almost out of habit, so that he can guide you.

“I haven’t either,” he admits, beginning to walk. “Let’s fix that for both of us.”

You are not afraid of heights.

This, you are now reminding yourself, quite sternly as the ferris wheel lifts you higher and higher by degree.

And maybe, you rationalize, that is still true. Because though watching the world blurring out of focus below you with your already limited vision is, unsettling, to say the least. It’s really the Ferris wheel itself, with one support bar around your waist being the only thing that stops you from plummeting face first Back down to the Earth below.

Being blind can alter or throw off your sense of balance and centre of gravity, and although this isn’t something you’re reminded of often, this is one of the times where it hits you full on, how unsteady you are, how close to teetering and falling all the way down you feel, even if, logically, you know the odds of that happening are small. You can’t convince your brain of that, so you freeze up completely, thinking that if you don’t move, that if you don’t even breathe, it’ll make it easier.

It doesn’t.

“What’s wrong?”

Wolffe is watching you, eyes intent, observant. At first, you’re not entirely sure as to what has tipped him off to your impending sense of doom. But then, looking down, finding that your hand has locked itself around his with an iron grip, you suppose it’s quite obvious. What’s more, your other arm is tightly wrapped around the stuffed wolf he won for you at the ring toss, your face hiding against its soft fur, eyes squeezed shut.

At your lack of response, he shifts, wanting to get a better look at you. Unfortunately, though, this causes the cart you’re into jostle, and even though the movement is slight and fleeting, you still let out a noise of distress, eyes going wide.

“Are you, scared of heights?” He asks, voice slightly incredulous and tentative.

You shake your head vehemently in denial. “No, no, it’s not that. It’s, I.”

You’re cut off as the wheel begins to move again, pulling you closer to the top before stopping. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you think that the sun must be about to set, and it must be a nice view, for those who can appreciate it. For those who don’t feel like they’re about to die right now.

“It’s not how high we are, Wolffe,” you try to explain, hating the way that your voice comes out in more of a whimper as you stare down at the ground. “It’s just I just feel like I’m going to fall. It it would be so easy,” you point with a shaking hand at the support bar, distrustful. “And what if something goes wrong and I...” you trail off, eyes blurring with unshed tears, to your utter mortification.

“It it’s not like the roller coasters, Wolffe,” you try to explain, clutching at the stuffed animal in your lap with anxiety. “On those, I didn’t have time to think about falling.”

All sense of logic and rationality has fled your mind like birds, leaving you feeling unstable, each heartbeat that pounds within the cage of your chest convincing you further that the slightest breeze is going to push you off, send you falling down off this precarious ride and to your certain demise.

A single tear tracks its way down your cheek and carefully, Wolffe raises a hand to gently wipe it away. “Oh, ner cyar,” he breathes, movements slow and deliberate as he reaches out towards you, keeping it cautious, predictable, so that you know exactly what he’s doing. “C’mere,” he coos at you softly, arm reaching around you to easily pull you to him.

His other hand delicately smooths over your hair, before settling to cradle the back of your head, securely tucking you against his chest.

Miraculously, the feeling of his body, protective as it curls around you, Creating a safe cocoon for you to nestle in, Immediately begins to ease the all consuming fear inside your bones. Somehow, you feel less unsteady, isolated, and on the verge of falling as soon as he’s safely tucked you in his arms.

“Do you think I’m gonna let you fall, ad’ika?” He asks, voice a low rumble as he looks down at you, the stuffed animal comfortably wedged between the both of you.

The feeling of his strong arms holding you securely against his broad chest, the way his heart is beating steadily against your ear, is much more reassuring than the seemingly flimsy support bar, and your intrusive thoughts. In spite of yourself, you find your muscles beginning to unwind, melting into him as one of his hands, large and warm, caresses over your back, pressing firm, grounding circles in between your shoulder blades.

“N no,” you say, unable to conceal the slight tremor that runs through you as the ferris wheel moves again. “B but what if.”

“Shh, meshla, focus,” he gently Chides, redirecting you’re over thinking mind back to him, giving one of your shoulders a slight squeeze of encouragement. “I want you to close your eyes, and breathe, and all you have to do is focus on me, alright? Nothing else, just you and me, right here,” he continues, voice a calm, steady stream.

You give him a small, shaky nod, before turning your face against his chest, relieved when you can no longer see the world growing smaller when you’re tucked against him like this. Slowly, hesitantly, you let your eyes close, and you’re surprised and relieved to find that the impending sense of dread is beginning to fade.

You’re rewarded with Wolffe lowering, a slight dip of his chin, peppering several kisses to the top of your head as he holds you tightly. “Good girl,” he praises, voice a quiet breath against your ear.

The ferris wheel begins to move again and before you’re given time to think about it, he speaks, derailing the panicked thoughts that begin to stir.

“Your hair is so pretty,” he remarks, slowly running his fingers through the strands. “And so soft,” he murmurs, dropping another kiss to your head. “How do you get it to be like that?”

Somehow, your lips pull into a small smile. “With a lot of work,” you mumble with a slight laugh and shrug.

“And?” He prods, lightly poking you in the side. “I want details, meshla. Give me your full routine, with the products you use. Give me a step-by-step guide.”

You know that he probably doesn’t actually care. You know he’s making you talk to distract you from the movements of the ferris wheel around you. In spite of that, though, you give in, beginning to speak and explain exactly how you maintain your hair.

To his credit, he seems to be listening attentively to everything you’re saying, eyes never leaving you as you speak, always prompting you with questions when you seem to not know what else to say.

Before you know it, the wheel has brought your cart to the ground, and an attendant is releasing the support bar from around the both of you, allowing you to get down.

Wolffe clambers out first, getting down to offer you a hand, helping you down off the attraction. Taking one look at the expression on your face, he wordlessly holds out his elbow, beginning to guide you both towards the fairgrounds exit.

“Are you that eager to get us home so that you can claim your winnings?” You ask teasingly as he pulls you behind him with long, purposeful strides.

He stops, turns to face you and catches your chin in his hand, tilting your face up to look at him as he idly runs a calloused thumb over your bottom lip, causing goosebumps to rise on your upper arms.

“Hm,” he says, expression contemplative as his other hand grazes down your side, experimentally dipping beneath the material of your top to trace teasing circles against your hip.

“Truth be told, meshla,” he muses, the low baritone of his voice slightly husky with desire. “I think you’re the one who deserves rewarding tonight.”

Your face breaks into a smile, even as you arch against his touch, with your breath catching in your throat.

“Well,” you start to say, finding you have to swallow several times as a blush creeps into your cheeks before you can respond properly.

“I certainly won

#star wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #the clone wars #tcw #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #sw the clone wars #tcw fanfic #cc 3636 #reader insert #x reader #Fanfiction #fanfic #star wars fanfic

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adonis-koo · 2 years

Text

wicked • 13

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 9k

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Note: hello everyone!! it seems as though almost everyone was in favor of me posting 13 when it was finished so here it is!! I hope you enjoy it because it’s laying out some ground work for a lot more intense stuff in the next few chapters! in other news if steve harrington dies tomorrow in v2 of stranger things I will not be okay </3 so I figured it would be better to get this out tonight! enjoy!!

“Duck.”

“Ah!”

A dull throb immediately entered your back as you yelped out, dropping the wooden sword instinctively, “Hey…! That’s unfair!” You cried out as you whipped around to glare at Jungkook.

His brows pinched as he waved his own wooden sword at your abandoned one lying on the ground, “It’s not, you think someone is going to play fair during combat? And don’t drop your weapon, you’re defenseless right now, what do you think would happen during your duel at this very moment?”

Your lips quirked into a large pout as Jungkook’s expression grew more stern, “Don’t give me that look, pick up your sword.”

You huffed as you grabbed your sword once more. With your wounds fully healed, Taehyung had cleared you for training earlier this week and Jungkook had been training every morning and then once you finished with him, you’d have a break before resuming with another teacher.

Sometimes it was Hoseok or Jimin, more times than less though it was with your new bodyguard.

“You could cut her some slack,” Yoongi called out.

You had only just been introduced to him just a few days ago, Min Yoongi was one of the top class Knights serving under the royal family and he had just gotten back from a tour which he apparently served at right hand of Areum.

He was now however your personal knight and therefore followed you just about everywhere you went and attended everything you did. This included, and dare you say, it seemed as if it was his favorite part of the day.

He had been sat on a large bale of hay, lounged out as he had been watching mildly entertained for the last half hour as you got whacked left and right from your ruthless husband, “She does come from a pacifist nation, I’m sure this probably violates at least several Eunoian laws.”

“If she’s to stand any chance against Seohyun then she can’t be babied.” Jungkook grunted, slashing his sword dangerously close to your upper body as you yelped, jumping back, “Good, but you can’t dodge every attack.” He sighed before pausing, “You’ve been dodging all morning, you’ll have to try offensive eventually.”

“Against you!?” You cried out, “No offense but I’m already more bruised than an apple thanks to you. I don’t want anymore to match.”

This made a tiny smirk tug on Jungkook’s lips, “Bruising can be attractive.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” You leaned back at the expression on his face, mildly flustered.

“Wow.” Yoongi whistled out before chuckling.

You glanced at your personal knight before back to Jungkook, somewhat defensive yet totally lost as to what he meant, the sight of this only made Jungkook chuckle, “Nevermind that, try a few swings on me, I’ll be gentle, after all it’s your first time.” It came out like an ushered innuendo and you knew damn well it was!

“Jeon Jungkook!” You reprimanded, smack your sword against his, “You stop that!”

You weren’t sure when this started up, but ever since two weeks ago when Jungkook gifted you your pup Fenrir, you had noticed the massive uptake on ruthlessly teasing you constantly, and it was often in sexual innunedo’s that constantly made you flustered.

“Well you aren’t gonna get very far swinging like that.” Jungkook whistled out with a chuckle before he managed to twist the blade right of your hand with his own.

“This isn’t fair Jungkook!” You whined out once more, now pouting again as you crossed your arms, “I can’t even properly hold a sword and you’ve only been training the moment you could hold one.”

“I was a beginner once upon a time y’know?” Jungkook replied amused, “Maybe a lot younger than you but I was also not good with a sword either.”

“Mmm yeah I remember that actually!” Yoongi called out with a chortle, “Your maid servant flattened him to the ground, several times might I add.” Jungkook glared at him but he only kept laughing, “She was a prodigy in the making that one, it’s a shame they wouldn’t let girls participate in the academy.”

You chewed against your lip before you turned to Jungkook, “What if Wheein taught me how to swordfight?”

“Am I that bad of a teacher?” Jungkook cocked his head to the side.

“No!” You ushered out before feeling a dull ache in your back, “You’re just…very strict.” You frowned as you rubbed the sore spot on your lower back.

This made Jungkook snort, “To answer your question I wouldn’t say no, but ever since the incident with me, chances are she would decline your request. She’s very shy of the guardsmen these days.”

“Was it that bad?” You frowned, you had hard of this supposed incident a few times now but you didn’t realize it had left such a distaste in Wheein’s mouth.

This made Jungkook frown, “I don’t know, I didn’t get to witness it, just that I heard the old captain of the guard had really frightened her. She hasn’t held a sword around me since.” He nodded to Yoongi, “But if she had been allowed to train alongside us from that age on she’d easily be a prodigy.”

“Better than you?” You asked.

This made a small smile tug on Jungkook’s lips, “Perhaps. I suppose we’ll never know. Now, sword.” Jungkook gestured to your sword once more as you pouted but did as told. He then began demonstrating different ways to hit offensively.

It started out as just following his lead but he eventually led his way in doing the motion against him, it was almost like a dance, you step forward and take a hit, he’d take a step back and block, and then he’d do the same to you.

“Well, well, what is going on here?”

You both paused at the deep, pleasant voice of Areum, Jungkook’s aunt, a smile tugged on your lips as you waved to her, “My duel with Seohyun is arriving soon so…we’re trying to get as much practice in as possible.”

Areum nodded at this, “Ah yes, I’ve heard of this duel. The odds are quite against you but you seem rather determined here.” She smiled as she waved to your sword.

“More like Jungkook is determined,” You smiled back weakly, “I’m simply trying my best and to be quite frank I’ll be ready for when the duel is over.”

“It’s not much,” Jungkook sighed as he glanced at his aunt, “With her injuries having taken precedence to heal we’ve lost a lot of time to train. But it’s better than nothing, that’s what you taught us after all.”

This made Areum smile in delight as she nodded, “Even the slightest chance of victory, is still a chance.” It sounded almost like a quote as she walked closer before taking a seat on the hay bale next to Yoongi who nodded in greeting of her, “Spar with her, I want to watch.”

Jungkook frowned, “We haven’t really progressed as far as a real spar.”

Yoongi nodded, “Even an informal one, she’s still flailing quite a bit.”

Areum shook her head firmly, “Spar, I want to watch.” She stared Jungkook down before he broke contact with her, sighing.

You had become nervous meanwhile, watching them both before you replied, “Um…Does my word count for anything? Because I already have a collection of Jungkook related bruises.”

“It’ll be over quick at least.” Jungkook said but it was hardly any consolation to you as you glanced back at Areum who seemed amused but nodded encouragingly to you.

You sighed before you straightened up lifting your sword as you tapped your blade against his before backing up, but before you could even fully get into stance Jungkook had already attacked. You yelped out, barely dodging his quick agile blows as you, the very opposite of him, gracelessly jumped back.

“It’s like her body is completely rejecting the primal urge to fight.” Yoongi shook his head, watching you barely duck under Jungkook’s ruthless swing as you both switched places before jumping back once more.

Jungkook heaved a breath looking mildly annoyed, “Stop running from me.” He extended his sword back out.

“Stop trying to hit me!” You cried back as you cowarded away from him.

He immediately swung at you once more but this time even more fierce than before, only this time he managed to knock the sword from your hand, grabbing it only to yank you close, an arm wrapping around you waist and the taunt wood of the faux blade met with your neck and Jungkook’s warm breath tickling your face, “I didn’t even hit you.”

“Yeah you were only trying to take off my head.” You ushered back, this made him snort however as he let you go lowering his blade before he stuck it into the ground while looking at Areum.

She hummed in thought as she grabbed her chin, “Well, dodging is her strong suit for sure.”

This made Yoongi cover a laugh as Jungkook sighed pressing his hand to his forehead.

You rubbed your neck bashfully as you shrugged, “I don’t want to hurt you or anyone else.”

“Y/n…” Jungkook sighed once more, “I don’t think you could hurt me even if you tried.”

“Ugh can someone help me with this?” Jimin had just appeared from down the slope where he and Hoseok seemed to have been trying to hit a knife into a tree rather high up with a rope attached to it.

They had been there all morning and Jungkook had quickly told you to not be distracted by them so you had since been ignoring them.

“Can you not do one simple task Jimin?” Jungkook asked, whirling around at him in annoyance.

“Why must god always choose his strongest soldiers for their hardest tasks.” Jimin lamented dramatically, “It’s hardly simple my Prince, have you seen this pitiful knife?” He showed it off and it was indeed small, “And have you seen that tree? It’s awfully big.”

“Isn’t that just a clothing line to dry the guards clothes on?” Yoongi asked while rubbing his head.

Jimin glared at him sharply as Yoongi put his hands up in surrender, “Nevermind me.”

“What are you trying to do?” You asked, peering out from behind Jungkook.

Jimin, delighted, held out his hands to you, “Are you volunteering Princess?”

“Jimin.” Jungkook growled out lowly, planting a firm foot in front of you.

Your lips quirked a little as you looked up at Jungkook before you replied, “I’d love to help of course, you just have to tell me what it is you can’t accomplish.”

“You are still training.” Jungkook crossed his arms, his gaze narrowing down on you.

You quirked a brow, “And I am taking a break to help a friend.” You stepped out from behind Jungkook as Jimin clapped his hands in glee before he excitedly gestured you down the hill, offering a hand out to you to help you down.

You gladly took it as he walked you over to Hoseok who sighed, “This is embarrassing.” He muttered.

“It’s not! Tell me, what’s had you both troubled all morning.” You smiled as you clasped your hands together, thin bandages wrapped around them, concealing your newly healed skin, you didn’t have to wear these. But truthfully you just weren’t to let everyone see all the damage that had been done to your hands.

“We can’t get the knife to stick into the wood,” Hoseok sighed, rubbing his neck, “And it’s not that it won’t stick but more like…we just can’t get the aiming quite right. I don’t know why Jimin brought you, I asked for specifically for Jungkook.”

“The Prince was giving me a hard time,” Jimin complained, “Besides our Princess here offered to help, who was I to decline her?”

You shrugged, “Give it to me.” You gestured as Hoseok somewhat hesitant handed his own knife to you, you noted the hole at the base of metal, a rope looped into it, “And, can you show me how to throw it?” You looked at Jimin who nodded.

He took a few steps back as you mirrored him, the tree was quite tall and round but all of it’s limbs were high up, making it unclimbable which is why they must only have the choice of throwing.

“Alright m’lady, throwing 101, normally you’d hold the blade end of the knife like this,” Jimin demonstrated it to you, “The weight of the butt of the knife is what gives it the momentum and power it needs to stick into its target. However, you noticed the rope here.” He tapped it as you nodded, “Which means we can’t do that, so instead we um…we’ve just been trying to do it like this.”

Jimin shrugged as he gestured to Hoseok who cleared himself out of the way, choosing to stand behind you both before Jimin held the knife back, throwing all of his power into the throw. The knife shot more like an arrow but it seemed to land too low.

And rather then stick into the bark it bounced right off.

This however made you thick of something, “Say…” You gently elbowed Jimin for his attention, “Perhaps this is a stupid question but um…have you both thought about just using a bow?”

Both Hoseok and Jimin looked at one another wide eyed before Hoseok groaned, “I’ll be right back.”

“Welp,” Jimin clacked his tongue, “This was a wasted morning. You can still give it a go if you want.”

You let out a small laugh as you held the knife examining it before you shrugged, mirroring the way Jimin held it before giving it a powerful throw. Jimin’s lips parted immediately before he looked at you, before back at the tree, then back to you once more, “You’re a hell of a shot Princess.”

You felt pride fill your chest as you crossed your arms at your handiwork, you had managed to hit it right in the knot that Jimin had attempted too, you have the rope a good tug but the knife wouldn’t be falling out anytime soon.

Hoseok had just come back out with the bow when his lips parted, “Seriously!?” He complained at Jimin.

“Don’t look at me!” Jimin cried out, “The Princess was the one that did it, her first try too!” He boasted for you as you waved your hands at him to stop talking, now feeling shy under the attention.

It was just beginner's luck!

Areum from a distance hummed out with a pleased expression as she stood next to Jungkook, “There you go, you found her strong suit.”

Jungkook shook his head reluctantly, “Good aim won’t help her in a sword duel.” Jungkook sighed as he ran a hand through his hair with a mutter, “What were the odds that she’d be good with a bow?”

“Apparently enough that she’d actually be good with one.” Areum replied as she looked down at her nephew amused, “Just because it’s not a conventional skill doesn’t mean it can’t be utilized.” She smiled cunningly, “Think of my words little nephew, you’re smarter than this.” She continued in a sing song tone as she walked away.

Jungkook only sighed, running his hand through his hair. He could only hope his aunt’s faith wasn’t misplaced.

“Archery?” You whirled around, gathering your cloak to fully wrap it around yourself, the tree’s had been turning hues of oranges and red’s these days as Autumn had fully arrived and truthfully, autumn just might be your favorite season in Penumbra.

The air had arrived with a cool nip these days and so you had begun dressing more warmly to keep the cold at bay, this was new to you however, winters in Penumbra were cool but never cold.

“Yes,” Jungkook replied, throwing the stick, a very large one far as Fenrir chased after it with a loud bark, “Sword training will continue of course, but you clearly show good promise with a bow, beginners luck doesn’t exist on something like that.”

You thought of his words but you were interrupted by Fenrir who dropped the stick in front of you, bright blue eyes perked at the sight of you looking at him as he barked again, panting as he stuck his tongue, eager for another throw.

Laughing a little you grabbed the stick before throwing it, Fenrir immediately chased after the stick, disappearing into the field of wheat that had filled the meadow.

“Well…I suppose if you think I’d be good at it,” You replied, still pondering on his words, “I still don’t get it though, shouldn’t I be focusing solely on swordsmanship? It was you who said I need only be good at it, but the best at it.”

Jungkook sighed as he shifted his weight, “Yes I know what I said.”

“But…?”

Jungkook glanced away from you, “I’d rather you focus on something you’re naturally good at in case a time for self defense might be needed, I know your duel is important, and we’ll continue to work on swords work. But if war ever breaks out again-”

“It won’t,” You cut him off as you shook your head, he said nothing though as your gaze hardened, “Our marriage was to ensure that didn’t happen, within our lifetime at least.”

Fenrir dashed back through the field once more, blissfully unaware of the more somber tone in the air as Jungkook heaved a breath stepping closer to you as he spoke, “We agreed to that yes, but I don’t know…” He shook his head, “There’s been a lot of stirrings from the West and with what happened at Mabon afoot still…” Jungkook’s gaze hardened, “The last thing I want is war, but more than anything I need you to be prepared and safe if it happens. I won’t be able to stay by your side if the war cannons go off.”

Just him talking about this had your hands trembling in anxiety, the distant memory of the mourning bells being rung, the bodies…”That would be a war crime if they broke the rite of peace.” You whispered out.

Jungkook smiled mirthlessly as he nodded with a whisper of his own, “It wouldn’t be a first for them.” He frowned, “I’m not saying war will break out, it most likely won’t. But still, in Penumbra we’re always prepared.”

“I…I understand.” You lowered your gaze sadly, “I just hope you’re right, that war doesn’t break out again.”

“We all hope,” Jungkook answered solemnly, “The people can’t go through the five year war again. They would rise to the occasion if needed but we’re just entering an era for peace, where they feel they can enjoy their lives. It wouldn’t be fair to take that from them.” Jungkook stared out over the valley where the capitol expanded in the distance.

You shuddered a little as you tightened the cloak around yourself, Jungkook’s eyes trailed to your figure as he sighed, “Let’s get you back into the castle, you’re cold.”

“I’m okay.” You replied, “But it is a bit brisk out here,” The wind was what made it feel so nippy out today, “How cold does it get in the Winter here?”

“Have you ever seen snow?” Jungkook had a small smile as he asked, kneeling down where Fenrir had laid down out of boredom, he quickly popped back up however, grabbing his stick and dropping it in front of Jungkook.

Fenrir however quickly forgot about the stick though as Jungkook stroked his fur with a good pat.

“I’ve heard of the snow.” You smiled sheepishly, “Oh…! I remember one Yule we spent at Kimhae, it started flurrying and I kept chasing the snowflakes trying to catch one on my tongue. None of it stuck though.”

“It all sticks here,” Jungkook replied as he rubbed Fenrir’s head, “By the feet, we’ll be buried in snow by the time Yule is close…” He stood up, “Speaking of…have you given any more thought to going to Kimhae for Yule?”

You raised your brows in semi surprise, “You’d be willing to go?”

“Had I not made that clear to begin with?” Jungkook titled his head, somewhat confused by your surprise.

You let out a wry smile, “Well it’s just…given your…distaste for Seokjin I would’ve thought you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him.”

Jungkook snorted, rolling his eyes, “Truthfully I could care less about him, but I’m asking you what you want to do.”

You had given the situation a lot of thought and weighed what the pro’s and con’s would be, because you knew if you went, you’d have to face Seokjin again and…well…You had changed a lot. You weren’t sure if you were ready to talk to him yet.

“Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind, then I would like to go,” You smiled gently, “I really do miss my mother and I just heard back from her that she would be attending with my father.” You had ended up writing a letter to your mother and it was originally to ask her about Yule.

But well, it ended up being a very long rambling letter detailing your experiences in Penumbra and how greatly you missed her, and you just barely remembered to ask about the Yule ball.

Jungkook nodded, “Then we’ll go,” He offered his arm out to you as you hooked your own around it as he called for Fenrir who quickly began to trot ahead of you both, “I’ll start planning our travel arrangements.”

Making your way back to the stables Fenrir whined at the sight of his pen, circling back around behind you making you pout, “I know you don’t want to but I’ll be back out later.” You pressed a kiss on his snout as he whined once more but followed the gesture of your hand into the pen, tail between his legs before he curled up in the small pile of blankets you had brought out for him.

“With how dramatic he acts you’d think we hurt him,” Jungkook scoffed as he shook his head at the admittedly pathetic sight before he closed the pen gate.

“He is hurt!” You pouted, “I still don’t understand why he can’t be in the castle with us- in Eunoia-”

“He’s an ashe wolf Y/n.” Jungkook chided in.

“But in Eunoia-!”

“Yes I know in Eunoia,” Jungkook placed a hand on your waist, pulling you from the pen and towards the gates, “But he is an ashe wolf.” He emphasized, “You saw his mother, and he’s only going to grow bigger than her in time. He can’t be in the castle.”

This made you sulk as you crossed your arms as you mumbled, “We could make him fit…”

Jungkook was about to make a snarky comment as you both stepped inside the courtyard but his words seemed to be lost at the sight of what looked like a rush of people all about.

You looked at Jungkook in mild concern but his eyes only hardened at the sight from the main doors where an older man waved off three maids that fled from him in fear and shrieks.

Hoseok had appeared behind him, trying to say something to the man but he only flailed him away with a snap, “I don’t give a damn about decorum boy, I have a job to do!”

“Who is that?” You asked as you shifted a little closer to Jungkook.

His eyes narrowed on the elder man as he spoke, “Han Di Jin, the Wolf of the West.” Jungkook shook his head, “He was the old captain of the guard, but since he retired he took to bounty hunter work, that's how he earned his title.”

“...Then what is he doing here?”

Jungkook frowned, “Well, clearly they’ve decided to make your assassination as a priorty.”

“It’s been nearly a month since the assassionation, what’s the meaning of this father?” Jungkook’s eyes burned into his father’s as he sat across from him at the war table.

Due to you being in charge of heading the operation for rebuilding the Market district, you usually met up with Jeong Dae- much to your displeasure, as the King had anointed him as your mentor and overhead of the project.

Any concerns would be brought to him rather than the king himself. What you hadn’t expected was to find both your husband and father in law already in the War Room with Jeong Dae, but rather than shoo you away Dae Seong only gestured you to sit.

And so here you were, awkwardly waiting for them to be done with this as you folded your hands, looking anywhere but at the two men staring one another down.

“We finally have the resources to give to the investigation.” Dae Seong shrugged off his son’s brewing expression, “You should be happy, after you threw such a tantrum last month I thought this would please you.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched and this made you shift in your chair beside him, he looked anything but happy at the moment.

“The assassin has had a month to leave this kingdom,” Jungkook replied with a low sneer, “You wanted to chastise me about wasting resources last time we discussed this but you choose to do this a month later?”

Dae Seong stirred in his chair and he mirrored the very same expression as Jungkook, the only difference being you had slowly begun to find out that the king had a much bigger temper than his son.

“The boy has a point,” Jeong Dae had cut in methodically, leaned back in his chair and for once he hadn’t seemed to be butting into the conversation until now, “If we wanted to catch this assassin then we should have struck whilst the iron was hot. But alas my brother, you choose to have us focus on the pest of a beast.”

Your lips twitched, just barely at the comment.

Dae Seong also seemed annoyed by this comment but not for the reason you were, “Yes, and who decided to botch my kill?” He sneered back as he glared at Jungkook who chose to not reply to that, making the king relent, “Nobody leaves this kingdom without my knowledge which means the assassin still resides here and Da Jin will find him.”

Your gaze met Jungkook’s in silence and neither of you said anything for a long moment. Partly because Jungkook had told you that the assassin had already made his escape, two weeks ago. Why he had chosen to not let this information reach his father was a question you hadn’t even thought to ask.

Partly because you assumed the king had known this.

“Well what is with those looks?” Jeong Dae called out the exchange making you both break eye contact.

Jungkook shook his head, “Very well. But I don’t want Di Jin snooping about the castle and disrupting the servants daily activities, he already caused a stir this morning.”

“He will do his job as he needs.” Dae Seong replied firmly, “As I believe the killer could be residing within these very walls.”

This made your brows raise in surprise, you didn’t realize the king had the same line of thought as Jungkook…or he did a month ago. Jungkook said nothing before he finally nodded as he ran a hand through his hair, “Very well.” He muttered. “If that is all I have duties I must attend.”

Dae Seong stood up along side him as he waved him off, “Yes that is all, and I will have you both know that Di Jin will be having family dinner with us on sundays as he is a guest in our castle, so be on your best behavior.”

He eyed you in particular as you gave a weak smile and nod.

“Yes, yes they aren’t children,” Jeong Dae shoo’d his brother, “Now I must talk to the Princess about the rebuilding project so if you both don’t mind…”

You dimmed at his words, ah yes that was right, that was the reason you were here to begin with, after all.

You had begun working on hiring for the project to rebuild the market just last week, unfortunately your supervisor for this was Jeong Dae, so any questions you had or arrangements had to be passed by him.

You cleared your throat as you shifted upright in your seat a little more, “We just finished hiring the last of the men for the project we’ll be starting next week as planned on construction, I just need to start meeting with some of the business owners and discussing what needs to be where. If all goes to plan we should be finished by the end of Spring.”

“Good,” Jeong Dae replied with a nod, “Speak with the court businesses first, since they are patrons to our family they will get first pick of their spaces.”

You nodded at this, it made sense and so you began making notes with the spare paper that was on the table, “Is there a particular last name I should do first? I don’t want to step on anyone's toes whilst doing this project.”

The project hadn’t even been started and yet you had received several letters from various court members requesting many different things, extra space then what was originally given to you to work with, extra budget for their own compensation lost in the fire. Three aristocrats had even went as far as to give you a detailed list of flooring, chandeliers they wanted, and various other things that made your head ache.

You looked down the list with a sigh, while some of these things were very helpful to you so you could estimate how to manage your budget, many of these things were not what you considered necessary for their shops.

Jeong Dae sat on your words for a long moment before he replied, “It matters not, though some are more pushy than others. Mistakes are not easily overlooked in this court however so be on your best behavior girl.”

This made you sharply inhale as you looked up at him, his tone not appreciated, you were just trying to make sure to not offend anyone, “I’ll keep that in mind,” You resisted the urge to bicker however, you just wanted to be done with this so you could get back to work.

Ever since the king had put you in charge of this project, and with your upcoming duel, it seemed your days of wandering about and free time were over, it felt like you never had a moment to yourself anymore.

“And,” You paused, feeling this was a stupid question but you just wanted to make sure, “How much of this is actually necessary to a building? Many of the court business are requesting…” You shook your head in disdain, “Rather lavish items…”

“Such as?” Jeong Dae replied.

You handed the list you had written down, neatly sectioned off the supplies requested under each surname, Jeong Dae skimmed through the list before he replied, “None seems that awfully lavish.”

Your brows raised in surprise at this, “Really…?”

You were a Princess, to say you hadn’t lived a life of certain privilege and luxury in itself would be a lie, but you had also been taught your whole life that these things were never a need but a blessing. Not to mention they were never prioritized if something in the villages was of higher priority.

“Bit of advice girl,” Jeong Dae leaned in, his eyes darkening a little, “If you want to be accepted into this court, then you must be willing to extend your hand as a friend to the court. Let them have their little luxuries, and they will in return give you theirs.”

You frowned at this, “I understand but it’s hardly fair to all the other-”

“Are they the court?”

“...No..” You didn’t like this one bit, shifting in your seat as you refused to look at him any longer. So much of your budget would be thrown out though when it could be used to help those more in need. Could the aristocrats not afford their own luxuries? Because it looked as if they could.

“Correct. You are the Crowned Princess of Penumbra,” Jeong Dae nodded with a stern look, “You care for my nephew yes?”

The question made your head snap back to meet Jeong Dae’s eyes as you flailed a little, flustered by his words, “I…Um…Yes?”

It came out a little uncertain but Jeong Dae didn’t miss a beat, “Then don’t make a fool of his name. Our meeting is concluded, meet with me once more after you’ve made your arrangements with the court businesses.”

And with that Jeong Dae left the room leaving you still sitting as you groaned softly, sinking deep into your seat. You had been trained for the duties of a queen growing up, it happened naturally but still, nothing could have ever prepared you for this.

“It is quite the predicament.” Wheein hummed as she prepared you for bed.

You had asked her opinion on what Jeong Dae had told you, as it had been bothering you all day that you had spent rearranging and playing around with the budget to see if there was any way to cut corners.

And as it would turn out, you could but…With the way it would be done, you had a feeling they wouldn’t be happy about it.

“I don’t know if it would be appropriate to give how I feel on the matter though Princess,” Wheein frowned softly, looking at you in the mirror reflection, “Other then you must do what you think it best, and truthfully it would make me happy to see you integrating into the court better.”

You slumped in your seat a little at this, “Even if it means unfairly elevating the court members.”

Wheein gave you a brief scolding look as you crossed your arms, “That’s how the world works unfortunately m’lady, you know this just as well as I do…”

“Yes I know,” You replied, trying to not sulk about it, “I still don’t like it though.”

Eunoia wasn’t perfect by any means, if your kingdom’s past was anything to go by your people had once upon committed grave sins, and your family was by any means not always perfect, you knew the court always had slight favor over the people, this was how it had always been. But then again you couldn’t really compare the two.

Eunoia viewed materialism very differently than any other countries, luxuries crafted of fine wear and materials weren’t seen as musts or needs by your people, and most often let go of materialism altogether to transcend their human side to tune into the dryad nature.

“Perhaps you’ll find a solution that fits everyone's needs,” Wheein offered a small smile however at your glum expression, “I have faith in you m’lady, the right course will come to you.”

“You truly think so?” You asked meekly as you looked up at the mirror once more.

Wheein now smiled brightly as she nodded firmly, “Of course, I don’t have a doubt about it.”

She just finished with your hair before standing you up to get you changed as you asked, “How has your mother been? I’ve noticed you’ve been at the castle more lately.”

Wheein smiled a bit shy this time, “She’s recovering well! I think by next week I’ll be able to fully return to my duties, I can’t thank you enough for giving me so much time to tend to my family. My brothers…” She sighed before sadly shaking her head, “They’re still touring with the Eastward movement, so I’m all my mother has left.”

You frowned softly at this, “What about your father?”

Wheein’s expression dimmed, “He died during the war. After he passed my eldest brother Yeonjun ended up enlisting since the military promised grain and oil to the families who did, the rest of them followed right after. I went to the castle for work to help pick up slack as well.”

“I’m sorry.” You ushered softly.

“It’s not your fault m’lady,” Wheein offered a weak smile, “It’s just the world we live in. But I do thank you for being so understanding, many in the court are…” She frowned, “Rather callous. It often has the maids not wanting to linger anytime they aren’t serviced to a certain person.”

You thought on this, remembering back to when you first arrived. Anytime you’d thank any of the maids of staff they always had a certain look of surprise on their face before hurrying away. Back then you assumed it was because nobody here liked you but now…

“It doesn’t surprise me, unfortunately.” You hummed out, “I’m just glad to hear your mother is doing better, I do miss your company.” You offered a meek smile at this.

“As do I m’lady.” Wheein gave you one last smile as she finished changing you, “This should be it, is there anything else you might need from me before I go?”

“No, this is fine, thank you.” You nodded with a smile, dismissing her as she gave a curtsey before departing.

You had made yourself comfortable in bed before you began your nightly reading and Jungkook had come in not too long after you started with Taehyun in tow behind him, “It’s annoying.”

“Well he is your father Sire.” Taehyun rubbed his head making you snort quietly as you watched the two squabble.

“Doesn’t make him immune to stupidity,” Jungkook rolled his eyes before looking at you, “Di Jin was mucking about with all the court ladies. Apparently under bounty hunter business. Unbelievable.”

“What does your father have to do with that?” You asked.

Jungkook flared his nostrils as if just the thought infuriated him, “Because I was somehow the one that got scolded for interrupting his business, when he didn’t even have any to begin with!”

Taehyun began changing him as he spoke, “Well they are old war veterans, it’s probably why he gives him so much leniency.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook huffed, “I’m aware. Still doesn’t make it anymore annoying, just the very fact that he chose to do this a month after the assassination is like a slap in the face.”

“Well at least he isn’t trying to waste your time anymore with it and hired Di Jin instead,” You offered a weak smile in consolation.

Jungkook only gave you an expression making you frown, “...Right?”

Taehyun spoke up instead, “Sire has been requested to relinquish any information he has to Di Jin and to help with anything he might request need of.”

Jungkook groaned at the words once more as he closed his eyes, pulling the fine silk top over his head revealing the muscle glad skin beneath. This made you clear your throat, eyes immediately dropping to your book.

This had become a nightly routine and you had become acquainted with this side of Jungkook over the course of the last few weeks, much to your surprise he was actually quite a lot more opinionated than he ever actually spoke.

You supposed this shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did, but it couldn’t be helped you had noticed since knowing his thoughts that he actually holds his tongue a lot during meetings with the court, but it always looked like he had to bite it back when you paid close attention to his expressions.

They were always so subtle in shift that if one didn’t know him well, they wouldn’t even be able to tell.

“Relinquish all information…?” You frowned, knowing the obvious discrepancy here.

Jungkook only shook his head, “How would they know that I know more?”

This made you frown, “Jungkook…”

“How would they know?” He asked, defending himself as he had clearly not told Di Jin that he discovered the assassin had escaped a long while ago, “They won’t, don’t give me that look.” You crossed your arms at this, “Is he always like this.” You looked at Taehyun.

“Well don’t bring me into this,” Taehyun complained, not liking both sets of eyes on him like this, “But to answer your question, yes, he’s always-”

“You’re dismissed Kang.” Jungkook cut through his words like paper.

Taehyun sighed before shaking his head, giving a bow to you both before he departed.

“So what did you tell Di Jin then?” You asked as you watched the door close before turning back to Jungkook who had been rolling up the sleeves of his sleep shirt to his elbows before he sat down in bed beside you, “What he already knew, which was we had no leads.”

“But perhaps it would be better to tell him that the assassin already escaped…I mean, that’s the only person who would have breached the border right?” You asked.

This made Jungkook frown, “I can’t say for sure, but that would be the only person I could think of that would go to that length to leave the country. It’s not that I don’t want to tell him, but I’m still uncertain.”

“Of what?” You asked.

“Of who sent the assassin,” Jungkook shook his head, “Who’s to say Di Jin wasn’t summoned here to try and make things worse?”

This made you frown before you looked down at your book which had been abandoned in your lap, “So many things are uncertain right now…I thought us getting married was supposed to fix everything.”

This made Jungkook briefly smile as he shook his head, “It’s never that simple princess, even you knew that.”

“Yes, I just didn’t think I’d live this long afterwards truthfully,” You puffed a breath, somewhat pouty, “What a mess.”

“A mess indeed,” Jungkook nodded before grabbing your book, “How about we not talk this over for the thousandth time though, how is the project coming along? I heard from Jeong Dae your having some difficulties.”

“Oh, did you now?” You frowned, not pleased with Jeong Dae running his mouth about you, and this didn’t surpass Jungkook as he raised a brow, “...It’s not a difficulty more like…Something I’m just having to accept.”

You shifted a little before you sighed and explained to him what you were struggling with, “And I have to start my meetings tomorrow with the court businesses so I need to make a decision tonight on what I want to do.”

Jungkook hummed as he crossed his arms, “It is a difficult position to be put in,” He shifted, “But truthfully, I don’t think it matters what you do.”

“...You don’t?” You frowned, somewhat confused.

He nodded, “The court is a fickle sort, they’ll find a reason to make things difficult for you regardless, I know this because I work with them every day. So, I’d advise you do what you want to do because it won’t matter.”

“But Jeong Dae said-”

“He says a lot of stuff,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, “Don’t take his words too heart, he means well but he’s dated in his opinions.”

You sighed as you fiddled with the edge of your blanket, “I just don’t want to mess up…”

“Messing up is part of learning,” Jungkook replied, “Embrace it, don’t fear it, you’ll do just fine.”

You could only hope Jungkook was right.

The door shut with a resounding click and you could hear laughter on the other side as you sighed deeply. Slumping in your chair as you pressed your hands into your face.

“Do you think that was the right choice?” You asked, afraid to even look up at Yoongi.

He had stood behind your chair the entire morning, having not even complained once about how boring this had to be for him to accompany you with.

Yoongi frowned at this scratching his cheek, “Personally? I don’t think you could’ve done much better Princess, the court can be particularly cold to outsiders. Especially given you’re apart of it now.”

You had been meeting with the royal businesses all morning and it had gone just about how you expected it too, most were outright furious when they had read off the list you’d be willing to provide for them and some of the things they had said to you was simply outright cruel.

You however had stood your ground with the whole lot of them, saying that either they would accept this, or find business within another district.

Some however, had still found a way to get the last laugh just as those ladies had, snidely dropping a line about how they had seen your husband with Seohyun just this morning, and clearly the look on your face was enough of a pay off for them after you broken the news that you’d only pay for half of the luxury renovations they wanted.

“You shouldn’t let their words bother you either,” Yoongi spoke once more at the sight of your somber expression, “I’m sure if the Prince was with Seohyun, it would have been in concern for the duel.”

You wringed your hands in worry as you nodded, “Yes, yes you’re right. I just…” You sighed as you shook your head, “They have much history together…” You mumbled, you didn’t want to sound insecure, but it was true they had much history together and you weren’t sure where Jungkook stood on his feelings when it came to her and well…his feelings when it came to you.

Something had certainly grown inside you whenever you thought of him these days, something that buzzed with a warm fuzzy glow and it made you nervous.

You had originally wanted to simply get along and be his friend, but you were now beginning to fear that he had somehow managed to corrupt even that simple want you had. It was in the little things, how you’d both sit together but just a hair too far apart for your liking.

How when you stood next to him your fingers would twitch in want to hold his hand, or hook your arm around his, it was like an insatiable itch.

And so whenever Seohyun had come up in conversation in relation to Jungkook, you had found yourself a bit more sensitive to it these days than you used to be.

“They do,” Yoongi hummed, “But not a good kind in my humble opinion.”

You shook your head with a frown as you glanced down at your ring finger, a beautiful shining onyx- what Namjoon told you was the stone of Penumbra, adorned it. It was your wedding band, you hadn’t bothered to wear it for a long while.

But you had stumbled across it in your jewelry box last week and couldn’t resist the urge to wear it proudly, even if the delicate lace gloves covered up your hands, you hoped maybe one day this ring would give you the courage to freely show off the scars that now stained your skin.

“Sometimes, we cling to bad history because it’s familiar,” You mumbled once more, perhaps a bit sulky, “I’m sorry Yoongi, I don’t mean to bore you with all of this.”

You decided to stir the conversation away from Jungkook, “I’m sure a knight of your status would do much better with Jungkook and the others right now.”

This made Yoongi chuckle as he shifted beside your chair, “Truthfully m’lady I am very tired of that work, politics aren’t my strong suit but I do enjoy being away from manual labor for once. You shouldn’t worry about me. Was that our last business of the day?”

Glancing down at your list you nodded, “Yes I believe so, arrangements have been worked out though so now I’ll need to head over to the library and start working some more numbers and then putting in orders for supplies.”

You had just stood up from your chair when there was a knock on the door making you glance at Yoongi in semi surprise, you were almost certain you had no more meetings with anyone else.

Yoongi frowned at this as he stepped up to the door, opening it before spoke in surprise, “Di Jin, I didn’t expect to see you lingering about here.”

The elder man moved forward in an attempt to step into the room, “I’m here to speak with the Princess, boy, so if you don’t mind leaving us for a moment.”

Yoongi’s expression dropped into something much less friendly, “I’ve strict orders to not leave the Princess alone.”

“Under whose orders?” Di Jin challenged him.

Yoongi’s lip twitched in annoyance, “...The Princes.” He looked away as if knowing something.

This made Di Jin laughed, “Then I do believe my orders from the King supersede yours. Now, if you don’t mind.”

Yoongi looked as if he was ready to argue with the older man but you had walked over, graciously holding up a hand, “It’s okay,” You gave him a timid smile, “I’m sure Mr. Han won’t be too long…?”

You glanced at Di Jin who gave a sharp smile, “Certainly not Your Highness.”

Yoongi shuffled in his spot, his eyes narrowing on Di Jin, “Very well.” He turned to you, his eyes brimmed with concern, “I’ll be waiting outside the door if you need anything m’lady.” He gave you a small bow before stepping out of the room and closing the door.

You cleared your throat, trying to not let the tall man intimate you as you turned around, offering a small smile, “Well, let’s have a seat shall we? What can I help you with Mr Han?”

Di Jin sat across from you, his expression having gone cold making you do a double take as he spoke gruffly, “This will not take long girl so let me be frank with you,” He leaned forward in his seat, “If I catch even the slightest of evidence that you’re conspiring against our nation, I will not hesitation to let the King know.”

Your lips parted for a full second, trying to comprehend what he just said to you- not just said, but threatened! Anger quickly replaced confusion as you scoffed, “I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t play dumb with me girl,” Di Jin sneered as he leaned forward in his chair, pointing an accusing finger at you, “Your little kingdom may have helped our predecessors, but lets not forget the savage nation of Celestial that once devoured their own kin. The very same that had been conjoined with Kimheavan before they split. It’s well known even after the nation split they still kept good terms, is it not true?”

Your lips twisted in disgust, “That was a long time ago.” Your nation didn’t have the prettiest history, that was true, but to be immediately accused for something your ancestors did and conspired was atrocious at the very least, “And I’ll have you know Mr Han that if I was conspiring against Penumbra I certainly wouldn’t have had my own assassination planned out!” You snapped.

Di Jin was about to speak but you cut him off immediately, “I may be considered an outsider and you may have your orders from the king but that does not make me less of a royal family member, no less the royal Crowned Princess, so heed my words and get out of my sight. Now. Or shall I go consort with the King to make sure these were his orders for you to threaten me?”

Di Jin’s glare could rain hellfire and yet your glare didn’t cease on him as he gruffly stood up, “Watch yourself girl.” Was all he said before exiting.

Yoongi quickly stepped back inside, brush the thick black strands of bangs from his eyes in concern, “Is everything okay Your Highness?”

You stood up from your chair as you sighed before shaking your head, “Something is certainly afoot, that is for sure.”

Yoongi frowned at this as he crossed his arms, “Shall we report this to the Prince then?”

You shook your head, “No…” You sighed at the confused expression Yoongi had at your words, “Jungkook is dealing with enough as it is, this will surely send him over the edge.”

“I do hope you plan to tell him eventually, his Highness will not like it whenever he hears of this.” Yoongi asked.

“Of course,” You gave him a soft smile, “When the time is right.”

“You’ve been awfully quiet this evening.”

The words were ushered out soft as you glanced up at Jungkook who hadn’t met your gaze, his eyes still on the letter he had been reading, but despite his focus you were beginning to learn that he was quite the observant person.

You had been reading in bed the whole evening and had kept to yourself, attempting to relax and let yourself rest well before tomorrow came.

“I’m trying to not let myself feel anxious.” You finally spoke after a long moment, shifting from under the covers of the bed, “The duel is tomorrow morning and I’ve hardly had any training.”

Jungkook didn’t reply for a long minute, finishing his reading before he set his letter down, he had spent the evening buried in work that he had been lacking on finishing the whole week, and therefore you hadn’t wanted to bother him. “That may be true but you’re stronger than you think,” Jungkook finally answered, leaning back in his chair as he looked at you from across the room, “Surely in Eunoia you have some form of fighting tactic.”

Jungkook stood up before making his way over to the bed, taking a seat beside you as he sighed, “I admit, your kingdom baffles me. I don’t understand how a nation could willingly lay down arms and trust that another nation won’t seize the opportunity to destroy them.”

You shifted in bed to face him, thinking on his words and how to describe Eunoia the best way you could, “Well, perhaps it would be best to maybe explain how our kingdom once was. Do you know of it?”

Jungkook shook his head, “I know very little of it truthfully,” He admitted, “When I was a boy my father didn’t permit me to learn much else other than what pertained to our kingdom.”

“Before we became Eunoia, we were once known as Celestial, self named after the King Devourer late Queen Celestia the Forth. When the Dryad’s first disappeared our kingdom…” You shook your head somberly, “Our kingdom spiraled into madness, and many rose up, hungry for power. It was said that Queen Celestia believed to restore our blood to that of a full dryad, we must devour our own kin.”

“Devour…?” Jungkook frowned at this.

You lowered your head in shame as you nodded, “Yes, she believed that once we devoured our kin, it would restore our blood to anew….” Your nose wrinkled at the thought, “...It’s how she became the late queen and earned her unsavory title…”

“And how did that era end?” Jungkook asked curiously.

“Well by the lower people,” You replied, thinking back to when your mother had first explained your kingdom’s history to you, “Though everyone’s blood ran the same, the Aristocrats believed those who deserved to be devoured where the lower class and so a revolt started and the people fought back. It was a war zone from end to end in my kingdom, flesh being severed and ate as if we were nothing more than animals. Eventually the civil war ended when the low class dragged Celestia from her hold and executed her.”

“It was as if she put the entire kingdom under a spell, because once she was killed, it’s said that it was as if everyone woke up from a deep slumber and realized what they had done.” You stared at your hands, marred and skin discolored from scarring, “They anointed Galadria their new Queen, she had lead the revolt against Celestia and was the one to execute her. Disgusted by what the nation had become Galadria had made a promise to our ancestor king, the Dryad’s, to return our homeland to what it once was. Focused on that of our inner selves, combined into one with nature, and Eunoia was born from that bloody war.”

You folded your arms as you continued, “Weapons were discarded because back in the Age of Celestia they were often used to dismember others in preparation to be devoured. It’s been only a little more than a hundred years now, so the wounds are still fresh, people who lived through that horror are still alive today. It’s not that we refuse to use weapons, but they still leave a distaste in everyone’s mouth.”

“I see,” Jungkook hummed as he absorbed the information, “But surely there’s criminal activity in Eunoia, how would that be handled then?”

“Well there is in any kingdom,” You smiled wryly at this, “But in Eunoia they are apprehended without the need for a blade. When they’re caught they’re put into indentured service, working for the community out in the fields, but during this they also get put into a housing lot where they can still slowly make their living, have the opportunity to learn skills.”

“Criminals are still people, they have a reason to act out the way they did in the first place. It’s our duty as the royal family to provide them an alternative to that, to help them. Not punish them.” You answered, “It’s not perfect, sometimes people are just too far gone to help. In that case we have no choice but to banish them from the premise of our lands.”

You thought of your words for a moment before speaking once more, “Oftentimes Kimhae had no problems stepping in if it was ever needed, but that was rare more times than not.”

“Well,” Jungkook hummed out, “That does give some perspective. I didn’t realize Eunoia once had its own fall from grace.”

You frowned at this. “Everything changed after the Great War though, didn’t it?”

The war that changed everything. what advancement civilization had made since The Fall what been completely ruined when all of the Kingdoms went to war, it was what caused Seoul to fall, how Celestia came into power, it shaped the very being of the world you lived in now.

There was a somber tone that took over and something happened that you didn’t expect, Jungkook gestured you closer as you scooted to him, your thigh touching his and an arm unexpectedly wrapped around your shoulder in a…comforting gesture?

“Enough of that,” He replied, hushed, “Tomorrow will come and go just as any other day.”

Your lips tugged into a pout, but you said no more before resignation filled you, sulking as you dropped your head against his shoulder.

You could only hope that the Dryad’s would be watching over you tomorrow and give you the determination that you would need to end this once and for all.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts au

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hannahssimblr · 6 months

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Chapter Four (Part 3)

Later on as I’m walking down the corridor towards the canteen, Dean catches up to me, intent on finishing what we started.

“Evelyn.” He says, hand on my shoulder, and I scowl at him.

“It’s Evie, please.” I say, shaking him off as I keep walking. He walks with me.

“Well it’s Evelyn on the class list.”

Is he trying to argue with me over my own name? “Yes, it’s Evelyn officially, but I don’t go by that. I’m just Evie.”

“Why do you say it like Eevee, then? Would it not make sense if it was Eh-vee?”

“You can call my parents and ask them.”

“Doesn’t matter. I wanted to know what you meant about me being rude. We got cut off mid conversation.”

“It’s really not important. I shouldn’t have even bothered to say it.”

“No, like, I’m not trying to be offensive. My critique, I mean, like. It’s just meant as comments about how you might improve. Everyone gives comments.”

“It’s the way you say it.” I insist, swinging into the canteen and shoving two euros into a vending machine. “It sounds like you absolutely hate my art.”

He leans against it and watches me punch in the digits for a diet coke. “I comment on everyone’s work though, not just yours. What, like, did you think I had a vendetta against you?”

“No.” I say, reaching for the can as the machine spits it into the dispenser, even though I did think that. I go to sit at a table so I can eat my lunch in peace, but he comes with me and takes the seat opposite and says: “They’re innocent constructive comments.”

“Whatever you say.”

“There’s no personal agenda.”

“Okay.”

“Evie.” He says with some frustration “You won’t get far as an artist if you can’t take any criticism of your work. That’s just not how you get by. You’ll never learn unless you’re able to take on feedback and improve.”

I want to ask him why he cares so much about how his feedback comes across to me, or what I even think about him at all, but instead I say: “You said the hands I drew were bad.” my voice suddenly sounds whiny, and the sentence must be the most pathetic thing that’s ever been uttered.

“Did you honestly think they were good though?”

I put my lunchbox onto the table and snap it open. “No, I didn’t.”

He leans back in the chair like he’s won some kind of contest. “So my crit was fair. It wouldn’t have been helpful to say that they were good then, would it?” and then he holds his hands up like he’s innocent before I can snap back at him. “I admit, maybe I shouldn’t be as harsh. I’m not that great at making things sound nice. I can try and work on it.”

“It’s up to you.” I say.

“I feel bad that you were offended.”

“It’s fine.”

“For the record, I actually do think you’re a generally good artist. Your work is usually pretty nice.”

“So is it that you’re threatened by me, or what?” I try out a little bit of light banter with him, but immediately realise that he’s not picking up on the humour in my tone. “I’m not threatened by you. I don’t see it as a competition.”

I shrug, cracking open my diet coke. My face is feeling a little hot after my failed attempt at a joke.

“So are we friends now? Have we cleared the air enough?” He hassles.

“I wouldn’t say friends” I say. “But I will try and ignore your comments.”

“Don’t ignore them. Take them on. But whatever is fine with me, to be honest. As long as I can sit with you in computer labs and copy what you’re doing.”

“Don’t count on me, I’m lost most of the time too.”

“Thought you were perfect.”

“Says you, Ida’s golden boy.” I say, and go back to eating my lunch.

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#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #fiction #romance #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 2

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lonelyseasoning-numero-uno · 1 day

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Outsiders from Johnny’s perspective

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55868605

usual Outsiders warnings. Suicidal ideation (will get kind of detailed in later chapters), violence, etc

please give me criticism, but main thing is just that you enjoy, I hope whoever’s reading likes this

That day, I had probably been off on my own, at the lot or something. Soon enough, things got crazy, as Ponyboy had been jumped. He was taken care of and all, but Darry told him off. I didn’t want what happened to me to happen to him, but I wish he didn’t have to watch out. Tulsa, and who knows where else- people like us, greasers, we’re targeted. It bummed Pony out, and me too, but it hurt him the most. He couldn’t get over it, and sometimes I felt like it was childish, saying the world wasn’t fair, but I knew it wasn’t right. It had messed with all of us, and I wondered if it’d ever end. Answering my own question, I knew it wouldn’t, but all we could do was try to do what we could with what we had. Ultimately, we’d always be cut down. I found my feet moving without thought, keeping up with the others till we got to the Curtises. Quickly, the tension in the otherwise warm home grew thick enough to be cut with a knife as Darry, Soda, and Pone began to argue. All I could do was stay quiet, there. Any interference made things worse, added fuel to the fire. Changing the subject, Dal piped up easily, “Speakin’ of movies,” he yawned, then continued after flicking his cigarette, “I’m walking over to the Nightly Double tomorrow night. Anybody want to come and hunt some action?” Steve replied with something about him and Soda going to a game, and I looked between Steve and Pony as the tension rose again. Sometimes, Steve saw Pone as a tag along. Pony, obviously, wasn’t always like that, so he took offense to Steve’s nasty look. I think Steve was jealous of Pony getting Soda’s attention, but Pone had a skewed view of himself. He took it personally, ‘cause he didn’t seem to think people liked him. Feeling like that- I understood him, and I stuck by his side. Suddenly, Darry interjected with something about work. I felt awful for him, having a lot on his shoulders, and the responsibility crushed a lot of opportunities for him. Pony couldn’t quite see it for what it was, so they tended to argue. I just hoped that they would figure things out, because I knew that they both cared about each other. Interrupting my thoughts, Pony answered for the both of us about going with Dally. I was glad for that, because I hadn’t been paying attention, and I didn’t really feel like talkin’. Darry said he could go, and I wasn’t surprised, ‘cause he wasn’t the most strict on him going out. He may’ve had him on a tight leash as far as school and all, but he meant well. I didn’t ever try to convince Pone, because I knew they’d have to work it out themselves, and he wouldn’t take me seriously. Dally updated us all on Sylvia, and they had broken up again. She had two-timed him. Honestly, I wished Dally could find someone who really loved him. But it ain’t like any good girls would give us a chance. Sylvia had even tried hittin’ on me once, but Steve chased her off. Dally deserved better than whatever he had made up in his head about it all. He was gallant, and all he could think of himself was that he was a hood. Well, he was good, and he could be better, but I knew he never would. Don’t get me wrong, I think he’s one of the best people I’ve ever met, but he’d just accepted that for himself. Tryin’ to convince him otherwise would be like trying to control the sea; it simply didn’t do any good, ineffective. I think we could all be that way sometimes, but Dal would get what he wanted till the end. I swallowed hard. At least he had that. All I was, all the worth I brought.. they all thought of me as a pet, at best. I was someone to be protected, and I didn’t feel sixteen. I’d never have thought that I’d make it even that far, and sometimes I wished I hadn’t. In my messy thoughts, I couldn’t make sense of what was reasonable or not. I wanted to clear my head, smoke.

Tumblr is being stupid and not saving so this is part one part two will be in the reblogs

#ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #johnny cade #the outsiders #ao3 fanfic #fanfic

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renlyslittlerose · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 25 - Tickling

Today's prompt request is: If you’re still taking kinktober prompts- I think a sexy tickle fight would be cute! (No worries if you’re not taking prompts anymore. I love your writing!)

For the talented @human-rocket 💖

Cheater's Remorse - 2.102 Rating: E Content: Tickling; Play fighting; Dry humping; Rutting; Bratty Anakin; Bratty Obi-Wan

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Obi-Wan would never admit to it, but Anakin knew he was ticklish.

Anakin discovered it by accident one day when he was quite young, a gentle jab along his Master’s side when he made a quip that caused Anakin to blush with embarrassment. Obi-Wan had jerked abruptly away at the action, his eyes wide as he stared down at Anakin as if he’d said something incredibly offensive. Anakin quickly took the bit of information and tucked it away along with all the things he’d learned about Obi-Wan - things that only he could know and no one else, such as how he liked jelly filled sandwich biscuits the most, or that he had an irrational fear of flying insects.

Over the years Anakin learned all the different parts of Obi-Wan that would make him gasp and flinch, or sometimes even grab Anakin’s hand and threaten him with a quick ending if he ever did that again. Behind his knees, the crease of his elbow, along his stomach and, when they’d progressed to something more than just Padawan and Master, Anakin learned of Obi-Wan’s ticklish spot along his inner thighs.

One had to poke and really dig, but whenever Anakin did Obi-Wan would break out into hysterical laughter, his body jerking, his hands grabbing as he tried to get Anakin to stop, threats and pleas coiling around them until Anakin finally relented. Sometimes Obi-Wan was too tired to retaliate, but other times he’d push his own assault, grabbing at Anakin as he tried to give him the same treatment.

Lucky for Anakin, he wasn’t ticklish. Unlucky for him, that just meant Obi-Wan ended up poking him roughly until Anakin apologized and promised never to do that again.

Of course, Anakin never used his powers for ill. He only utilized his knowledge when Obi-Wan was being particularly annoying or frustrating.

Or when Obi-Wan cheated.

“You said no using the Force,” Anakin said from his place on the training mat.

Obi-Wan rolled his shoulders before brushing a lock of hair away from his sweaty brow. The innocent look he sent Anakin made Anakin’s gut tighten - with arousal or anger, he wasn’t quite sure. Probably both.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin glowered. “Right then - when you threw me across the mat. You used the Force, I felt it!” Standing up he approached Obi-Wan. “You were the one who said we should keep the Force out of this, and then as soon as I had the upper-hand you—”

Obi-Wan raised his hand, silencing Anakin. “Saying you have the upper-hand is a bit of an exaggeration, darling. I’m fairly certain you were the one in the headlock.”

Anakin felt his cheeks go red, heat rising up along the back of his neck and chest. Clenching his jaw, he stared at Obi-Wan and tried very hard to come up with some sort of comeback that wasn’t just ‘nuh uh.’

Obi-Wan smirked after Anakin’s extended silence, a quick little thing that made Anakin want to scream. Instead he tackled Obi-Wan to the mat and began his assault.

“A-Anakin, w-what are you doing?” Obi-Wan screeched, his voice high-pitched and frenetic. Laughter pealed out from behind his teeth, quick and sharp.

“Alls fair in love and war,” Anakin gritted out as he jabbed Obi-Wan’s sides, digging into the meat of his hips and ribs beneath the thin cotton of his shirt.

Obi-Wan started bucking up, hips shifting beneath Anakin as he went to grab his hands and pull. But Anakin was faster, and before Obi-Wan could take hold he grabbed his wrists held them back over his head. Obi-Wan let out a displeased grunt and glared up at Anakin. Anakin grinned.

“Well now you can’t tickle me,” Obi-Wan remarked dryly.

“Don’t be so sure about that.”

Before Obi-Wan could form a thought Anakin pressed his face against Obi-Wan’s neck and blew. Hard. Obi-Wan let out a howl before he started squirming again, trying to get away from Anakin’s lips as he latched on and blew again, this time across Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Distracted by Obi-Wan’s movements beneath him, Anakin didn’t feel Obi-Wan’s leg come up and hook around his waist, and let out his own yell as Obi-Wan tried to flip their positions. Thankfully for Anakin, he only managed to get one of his wrists free, and the pair started grappling once more on the mats.

“Y-you little brat,” Obi-Wan grunted out, his arm trying to wrap back around Anakin’s head.

Anakin jabbed his side again, catching bare skin as Obi-Wan’s shirt rode up on him. It was enough to get Obi-Wan’s attention focused on his hands, and Anakin managed to flip Obi-Wan down on to the mattress, pinning him stomach to the floor. There was more scrambling, Anakin shoving his hands beneath Obi-Wan’s shirt as he tickled, his mouth once again latched to the back of Obi-Wan’s neck to blow kisses against the sensitive skin, causing more yelling and laughter to part from Obi-Wan’s lips.

“Once I’m free--” Obi-Wan began.

“You’re gonna what? Murder me?”

“Send you to train under Windu for the next month.” He finished his threat with an aggressive thrust upward, his ass rubbing up into Anakin’s groin.

They both paused as Anakin’s erection pushed firmly against Obi-Wan’s backside. Without thinking, Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan’s wrists and held them to the mat. Obi-Wan was breathing heavily beneath Anakin, tears drying on his cheeks as he caught his breath. Anakin noted the smallest of smirks slipping on to his features, and Anakin only had a second to compose himself before Obi-Wan started rubbing up again.

Friction, satisfying and continuous, slid along Anakin’s cock, pleasure weaving its way through his body as Obi-Wan continued to distract, dismantling Anakin’s upper-hand with each slow, lazy roll of his hips. Anakin knew that if he let go of Obi-Wan’s wrists now he’d be subjected to worse teasing, and so he kept his grip tight on Obi-Wan’s wrists and ground down, trying to regain some of his dominance.

He whimpered when Obi-Wan slipped one of his hands free and reached back to cup the back of his head, fingers tangling in his curls before pulling every so slightly.

“N-not fair,” Anakin huffed out, even as he shoved his clothed cock against Obi-Wan’s backside, hips stuttering as he started to hump into Obi-Wan.

“You’ll never win if you use unfair tactics,” Obi-Wan said idly.

Anakin growled and pulled away from Obi-Wan’s touch so as to bite his neck. Obi-Wan let out a huff and arched back into Anakin’s hips, his knees digging into the mats so as to get a better angle. Anakin let out a whimper as his cock was pushed between Obi-Wan’s cheeks, the fabric of their leggings doing little to block the sensation. A part of Anakin wanted to continue to fight Obi-Wan - to regain his upper-hand by whatever means necessary. But the other part - the larger part that overrode all other senses - just wanted to grind his swollen cock into Obi-Wan’s ass until he came.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Anakin pressed his face against Obi-Wan’s neck and couldn’t help but chuckle when Obi-Wan flinched.

“Don’t you dare,” Obi-Wan mumbled.

“I won’t.”

Instead he bit the skin, teeth sharp along the cords of Obi-Wan’s neck, skin tasting of salt and Obi-Wan’s musk. Obi-Wan shifted and Anakin raised his hips just a little so as to let Obi-Wan pull the banding of his leggings down to expose his ass and cock. Immediately Anakin was doing the same. He let go of Obi-Wan’s other wrist and sat up a little to pull his leggings down enough to free his cock, hissing as it was exposed to the muggy air of the practice room. He stroked himself a few times as he admired the scene before him.

Obi-Wan was still splayed on the floor, hips canted upward and chest pressed into the mats. His shirt had been rucked up, the muscles of his back flexing beneath pale skin, the indent of his spine collecting sweat that Anakin licked up with a firm stroke of his tongue. Obi-Wan let out a low sound that made Anakin’s cock pulse in his hand, sticky precome spreading out across his palm that he applied to the meat of Obi-Wan’s ass.

Sitting back, Anakin pulled Obi-Wan’s cheeks apart and admired the the whorl of muscle that twitched and flexed beneath Anakin’s hungry gaze. It was such a sensitive part of Obi-Wan, the skin soft, his hole eager, his taint vulnerable…

Obi-Wan suddenly stiffened beneath Anakin, and he whipped his head around to stare at Anakin from over his shoulder. “I swear to the gods of all the planets in the galaxies: if you do what you’re thinking of doing, Anakin, I will never let you fuck me again.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Anakin huffed.

He was definitely going to.

“Anakin…”

Anakin let go of Obi-Wan’s cheeks with a dramatic eye-roll before collapsing back down on to Obi-Wan. Without waiting for permission Anakin started thrusting up into Obi-Wan, sliding his cock along the crease of Obi-Wan’s ass while Obi-Wan ground upward. It was quick and messy, Obi-Wan’s pants mixing with Anakin’s soft whimpers, the two moving together with practiced ease. Wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist Anakin hugged him close as he kissed along Obi-Wan’s neck, breathing his scent in and holding it deep within his lungs.

“T-that’s it, that’s a good lad,” Obi-Wan mumbled, his hand brushing Anakin’s arms now and again as he jerked his cock.

Anakin swatted Obi-Wan’s hand away and replaced it with his own, huffing against Obi-Wan’s temple as the weight of Obi-Wan’s cock lay in his hand. Stroking Obi-Wan quickly, he dragged the foreskin up and over the tip before pushing it back down, a gentle slapping noise mixing with Anakin’s soft moans and the rustle of fabric against the mats.

Anakin’s own cock was pressed between Obi-Wan’s ass and his stomach, slick with spend and hot to the touch, Anakin picking up pace as he humped into Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan reached back up and grabbed a fist-full of Anakin's hair, tugging his curls and pulling his head back toward Obi-Wan’s neck. Biting down on the flesh on offer he sucked and licked the skin, little huffs of pleasure slipping past his lips as Obi-Wan praised him and tugged at his curls.

“S-such a brat, but so eager to please. And so easily distracted,” Obi-Wan purred out. “Y-you’d almost won, you know. Would have won, h-had you not been thinking with your cock.”

“Shut up,” Anakin grunted.

His cock ached, and he thrust more wildly up against Obi-Wan, his knees already sore and thighs tensing. Obi-Wan’s cock throbbed and leaked in his grasp, and Anakin knew that Obi-Wan was close, his own groans becoming louder and more frequent.

“I guess this is the way to defeat you, hm? Not through talent nor the force. N-next time you deem it fair to try and tickle me, I’ll just shove you down on your knees and make you suck my cock instead.”

Anakin came with a groan, his hips twitching across Obi-Wan’s ass, the familiar dragging sensation along his cock and balls making his toes curl and his mouth part in wet gasps. Obi-Wan came soon after, spilling across the mat and Anakin’s hand, Anakin teasing the head with his thumb, squeezing out as much as he could even as he vibrated with his own release.

Collapsing on top of Obi-Wan as soon as they were done, Anakin shoved his face against Obi-Wan’s neck and breathed in deep. Obi-Wan smelled like sweat and sex, thick and dense in the back of Anakin’s throat. Obi-Wan still had his hand in Anakin’s hair, his touch softened as he pet the back of Anakin’s head as Anakin continued to cling.

“You still cheated,” Anakin mumbled.

Obi-Wan chuckled. “I thought I could get away with it.”

Anakin blew a kiss against Obi-Wan’s neck.

#obikin #star wars fanfiction #lemon fanfiction #kinktober 2023 #lemon does kinktober

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heartmarierose · 4 months

Text

story time

names have been changed etc etc

this guy i know from church in college posted this article on facebook:

he captioned it this:

TLDR: LDS church / culture is a terrible environment in which to raise daughters.

(we’ll call him Jason. Jason’s a cool dude)

and i saw the post and thought, i should read that later, and then promptly forgot about it

and then, someone else i know from church in college commented on it, so facebook showed the post again with “so-and-so commented on this” (we’ll call her Sister Johnson)

and Sister Johnson said

I'm really sorry this has been your experience.

and something about that response launched my blood pressure into the stratosphere and i’m having trouble articulating why

my memory is shit, so i can’t give a fair accounting of what Sister Johnson is like as a person, but i have vague memories of her being involved with the YSA (young single adults) in a positive way

anyway i don’t think she meant this comment to be even remotely offensive or abrasive. i think she intends to be genuinely apologetic that people experience the church in the way described by the article (which i have now read and like, as a nonbinary lesbian, yeah that’s been my experience at church both for gender and for sexuality)

but there’s an implied “i’m a more righteous person than you because i’ve never felt the way described in the article” present in the comment. “i’m sorry this has been YOUR experience” i.e. “that sucks to be you but couldn’t possibly be me”

so naturally i responded

I am really genuinely curious - has this not been your experience? Is this not what the church looks like for you?

and of course now i’m obsessively checking to see if she’s responded but of course she hasn’t and i need to go the fuck to sleep

#the church of jesus christ of latter day saints #lds church #queerstake

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stitchlingbelle · 4 months

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Watching Halo, Episode 8

(From what I’ve picked up, this is the episode with the controversial sex scene in it, so… yeah. Let’s see how that goes.)

We open with John and Makee both staring into mirrors and either temporarily revisiting the ringworld vision or just remembering it, but their focus seems to be more on each other than the untold mysteries of an alien ringworld revealed to them by ancient mystical technology. Priorities! And then they go on a field trip.

Halsey, Adun her creepy assistant, and Cortana are discussing John and Makee and the whole situation while watching them. Parangosky and Keyes are also watching them, because again, authoritarian surveillance state. Although, I do have to give the actually-authorized people here a break; Makee is still being held under some pretext or other, and in fairness, she actually IS up to no good. But since Parangosky doesn’t know that, it’s a little appalling that she’s so eager for Master Chief to beat the shit out of what could be an innocent civilian. (And we, and John, know that there are in fact actual Covenant escapees, since we met Reth back on Rubble.)

YAY for another civilization worldbuilding scene! Parks! Food trucks! Pastels! The future is great! (What is with all the anoraks people wear in this show?) Happy children give Makee hope that maybe the book she and her childhood friend rescued from the trash might have been on to something. Maybe humans don’t suck, just the ones from Recycle Hell Planet. She mentions the book to John. They take refuge by some pretty, flowery trees and discuss the Halo and whether humanity’s worth saving. “Cleansed” she says fanatically, that’s what will become of humanity if the others ascend. (John, alongside your defense of humanity, you might have questioned whether people dead-set on committing genocide are worthy themselves… It’s not like she doesn’t know what the Covenant does, she just has protagonist-centered morality, here.) When Master Chief gets called away for a moment, Makee gets frightened by a dog, which I can’t help but think is supposed to be a parallel with John’s loving memories of his childhood dog. It’ll take more than one day in the park to rid Makee of her kneejerk assumptions…

Speaking of the Covenant’s genocidal tendencies, a colony world has just been attacked—glassed, a term I’ve heard and imagined to be a bit more literal (anybody else read the Axiom books by Tim Pratt?)—in fact, a city of 11 million people has been melted into a roiling hellscape of lava. The voiceover of the reporter or officer, along with the reactions of the people in the command center, really sells it. Keyes and Parangosky argue over aid, with Keyes invoking the “Cole Protocol”. A recap I found online informs me that it’s meant to keep the Covenant from finding the other human planets (presumably by following the aid fleet home? Idk). I guess this means the Covenant is like humanity in its knowledge of the wider galaxy—no in-depth surveys, just telescope data beyond their own frontiers. Interesting. (I’ve got some thoughts about the respective tech levels here but I think I’ll hold it for the finale.)

Master Chief walks in and hears the tail end of the argument, that “we can’t sit here and wait for them to find us” and the conversation turns from aid to an offensive strike against the Covenant. He’s convinced Makee will help, which I have serious doubts about, especially this early in her deprogramming. (Again, 9-episode season!) But the whole debate does give him a chance to stand up for himself against two of the people he doesn’t realize are also responsible for the crimes against him. When Keyes growls, “People don’t just manually override decades of indoctrination,” John looks him dead in the eye and says, “I did.”

OH SNAP.

We get a look at how the other Spartans are doing. Riz and Vannak are examining some alien tech and debating Kai’s fitness for duty… and we slam right into Kai partying it up with a ton of normal soldiers, using her superstrength to lift incredibly heavy objects while they cheer wildly, rooting for her and placing bets. It’s an absolutely adorable scene of my exuberant girl getting joy out of her abilities, instead of the horrific purposes they were given to her for. It’s also a great scene of human connection, as Kai, so far the most outgoing Spartan, gets to be a part of the life of the base for the first time. (Master Chief might stay grim, the untouchable, perfect Spartan that all the grunts look up to, but I think Kai might become their beloved mascot. If the show lets her.) (God, I can’t wait to see what Riz and Vannak are like as people.)

Miranda’s back at her new lab, which apparently still doesn’t have the funding for chairs. Her dad, who she still believes in, drops by and it’s painful to watch her enthusiasm as she goes over her progress with the only person she looks up to who listens to her. It’s going to break her heart when she learns the truth, and on some level her dad knows that reckoning is coming. She’s clearly on the verge of figuring out Makee is the voice in her recording…

John goes to see Makee, dismissing her guards (not suspicious at all!), to give her a book. (He says it’s not the same one from her childhood, so maybe it’s the same author? Yes, this is a weird detail to care about.) For a second I couldn’t tell if the gesture was incredibly sweet or calculated to make her trust him/ humanity more, buuuut they almost immediately start making out, so calculated probably wasn’t it. I’ll be honest, as someone who is deeply religious both by upbringing and by choice, as well as being somewhat on the demi side of things, I am the wrong person to comment on whether this scene was too soon or earned or whatever. It would take two years and a ring to get me to this point, but some people have one-night stands! Maybe this is normal! I dunno. (I bet it was awkward as hell, though. Two virgins who probably never got sex ed? Yikes. This is Hollywood, though, so the implication is always that it was effortlessly great.) Aaaaand Cortana is watching/ experiencing/ monitoring vital signs intrusively? Yikes.

…and then he sleeps over? And this does not set off any alarms with anyone, including the guards? What about the shift change? Asking the real questions here, people! Makee has a moment of Decision, looking at him and her best chance to literally remove his head as she boasted. Instead, she gets up, and in the WORST SCENE EVER wrenches the hidden energy blade out from under her fingernail. Give the actress and the fx department Emmys, that looked SO. PAINFUL. (Girl, you could have left it in and just committed to not stabbing people!) And John slept through the whole thing. (?!) (...what about Cortana?)

Cortana and Halsey discuss the evening, and Cortana looks a lot more content with the situation than she did, uh, earlier. Halsey distinctly less so when Cortana comments that John’s not alone in the universe anymore. “He was never alone, he had me,” snaps the woman who abducted, tortured, and brainwashed him. “…Of course,” answers Cortana, who looks like she regrets her life choices even though she’s only like a week old.

Keyes drops by and treats us to a handy demonstration of him and Halsey as the toxic couple of the decade. He can’t break free of her emotionally, if only because then he’d have to face his guilt and culpability alone. So he’s pulling strings and probably fucking everyone else over to… what? What’s important about her ship, instead of the one Parangosky would no doubt put her on? (C’mon, Cortana, time to make a stand!)

Whatever her inevitable escape plans, for now, Halsey is ruining John’s attempts to bring Makee over by creepily contacting her on the sly and feeding her all that bs about humanity’s evil nature. (Including a disturbing line about her relationship with John being “wonderful to watch”.) (This right after claiming John doesn’t exist, only The Master Chief, a contradiction Makee doesn’t notice.) Makee is disturbed and pushes back to a limited extent, but it’s clear that another human validating her fears about humanity and then parroting the same line about the Halo’s power to help a species ascend “like gods” is hitting her where she lives. (She also doesn’t think to quiz Halsey on exactly why other humans can’t be trusted, but she can.)

Halsey then reflects on the “flaw” of humanity that is attachment. (What exactly does she think humanity is, then? If it's so awful, why is she working to save it?) Anyway, whether this is commentary on Keyes’ mistaken loyalty to her, viewing her own previous attachments as setbacks, the ease she’s had in manipulating Makee, the Spartans, and others, or just foreshadowing, it’s game time now.

She contacts the Spartans, invoking “Zed Protocol” and claiming the entire high command, including Master Chief, have been compromised by the alien artifact. She orders them to bring John, Makee, and the artifact to her, letting nothing stand in their way. No one asks the obvious question: if the artifact is compromising people, why the heck should they bring it CLOSER to someone so far unaffected? Isn’t it more likely the person asking them to break protocol for the artifact is being affected? Kai is the only one who doubts, and Halsey immediately has Riz and Vannak take her out. (Causing me to yell NOT MY BABY at the screen.)

Cortana asks what Halsey has planned for John. Turns out he’s disposable once they have Makee, and Halsey plans to let Cortana take over his body after all. (So much for John’s test. And for John’s specialness in Halsey’s eyes—if he was so unique, you wouldn’t want to overwrite him!) Cortana is Not Enthused, but Halsey doesn’t see that for as much of a danger sign as I do.

Everyone’s on their way to watch Makee use the artifact. Makee, deeply upset by Halsey, asks John what his plan for the artifact and the future are. The Master Chief, with no idea what the thing actually does AND being emotionally two weeks old AND raised to be mission-focused, has no answer beyond “kill the people who rescued you”. (Not even a “we’ll figure it out together”, John? Really?)

What follows, once everyone is in place, is a combination of action scene and classic tragedy of mistimed revelation—once Cortana makes her choice and alerts Master Chief to the ambush waiting for him, he sends Makee looking for safety. Instead, in the terrified moments when listening to her could have saved John a beating and changed Makee’s mind about humanity, Miranda discovers that Makee was behind the massacre of the Gladius. This ill-timed truth results in Makee being viciously tased as she was as a child, confirming all her fears…

Meanwhile, Master Chief out of armor is going hand-to-hand with Riz and Vannak, both suited up. Cortana’s assistance keeps them from wiping the floor with him. That, and the fact that his skull must be heavily reinforced, one punch from an armored Spartan should be more than enough to crush a human skull. And then MY GIRL KAI breaks out, orders Halsey’s ship detained, and joins the fight, resulting in a standoff…

…which is broken only by Makee reverting to her upbringing, lunging for the artifact and using it to get away. The shockwave smashes through the base. John flashes to the Halo dimension, where Makee just says goodbye and disappears. Well, crap.

#halo tv show

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starsstuddedsky · 2 years

Text

Shall We?

gn reader x chan

summary: having a crush on your best friend made everything more complicated. would you be able to tell him how you felt, or will you be stuck in this limbo forever?

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, university au, sports au, non idol au

warnings: none, inaccurate soccer, both main characters are dumb?

wc: 6.3k

a/n: this is the first story I’m posting!!! it was really a gift for a friend but I enjoyed it a lot so hopefully y’all do too! thank you for reading :) i wrote it in first person bc second is kinda awk for me

title: Shall We? - CHEN

masterlist

I wasn’t the type to have crushes. I could count on one hand the number of people I’d ever admitted to having a crush on, and three of them were fictional characters. It wasn’t that I didn’t find people attractive - there were plenty of people in that category. Crushes just didn’t come easily.

That was why I couldn’t decide how to deal with the big fat crush I had on our school’s star forward, Lee Chan. I wasn’t used to having butterflies when I talked to him, losing focus in class, wondering what he was doing, dropping my phone when he posted (his second ever picture on Instagram) what could only be labeled as a thirst trap.

The worst part was that he was my best friend. I’d known him since kindergarten where I ironically swore to hate him for ruining my art project. I couldn’t escape these feelings, no matter how recently they’d come upon me. I glared at Seungkwan, who sat next to me on the sofa. It wasn’t fair that the athletes got better dorms when all they did was kick some balls around, but I stopped complaining out loud when I realized I had enough friends that lived in the athlete dorms that I could stay in their rooms (with actual bathrooms!) as much as I wanted.

“First of all, you’ve been in love with him at least since freshman year,” Seungkwan said. “That’s being generous, actually, it was probably middle school. I can’t be sure it wasn’t elementary school. Maybe it was love at first sight, actually, no, I take it back, you guys are probably soulmates.”

“Are you finished yet?”

Seungkwan laughed. “All I’m saying is that I have been saying that you have been in love with him for years.”

“But I haven’t!” I punched his arm when he scoffed. “I’m serious! These feelings are new and weird and I don’t like them, and Chan is one of my best friends- actually, he is my best friend because you’re being annoying.”

“I take offense to that.”

“Good, you were meant to,” I said. “Now shut up and let me rant. I really like him, Seungkwan, I can’t even think about him without my stomach getting butterflies. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed how weird I am around him, and just can’t imagine my life without him in it.” I buried my face into a pillow. “Why does my stupid heart ruin everything?”

Seungkwan patted me on the back. “Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”

“I have been friends with Chan my entire life,” I said, raising myself from the cushion. “I think it’s worth being dramatic over.”

“What if it were me? And we were fighting and you were worried we would never be friends again?”

“Ew, gross,” I said automatically. “No offense, but I’d be glad to be rid of you.”

“First of all, you can’t say no offense and expect it to cancel out the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me. Also, I don’t believe you at all; who else have you told about your little crush?”

“No one,” I mumbled.

“That’s what I thought.” Seungkwan sounded smug. “Now, I’m going to assume confessing is out of the question?”

“Don’t even joke about it,” I hugged the pillow against my chest.

Seungkwan whipped his phone out, snapping a picture. “Sorry, I’ve literally never seen you this vulnerable, and I’m going to need blackmail at some point.”

“You are the worst, I gave you the best blackmail in the world, do you really need a picture, too?”

“Oh, yn, I can never have enough blackmail.” Not for the first time, I was scared of Seungkwan.

“Can’t you just give me advice?” I asked. “Weren’t you known for being the love doctor or whatever in high school?”

“First of all, I was not called the love doctor, that sounds weird, please never call me that again,” Seungkwan said. “And it was a lot easier to give advice to people that weren’t both my friends. I think I have to be Switzerland on this one.”

“You’re worthless,” I said, sliding onto the floor.

“Wow, I was just about to offer you food as compensation,” Seungkwan sighed.

“Did I ever tell you that you are my best friend in the entire world?”

Having a newly realized crush on your best friend apparently doesn’t excuse you from going to all of his games, no matter how strangely nervous it made you. Normally I came early to say hi during warmups (a tradition that began during the preseason because Chan forgot something every other day, but spending so much time with two teammates meant that I got to know pretty much the entire team). The thought of trying to act like everything was fine in front of the entire team, including Seungkwan, who would undoubtedly tease me, made me sick, so I texted Chan, telling him I needed to do homework but would be there in time for the game.

It technically wasn’t a lie, but all I did was I sit in my dorm, staring at the door, watching the seconds pass by one at a time. I wondered if he would even notice if I wasn’t there.

“Don’t you have to go?” My roommate asked. “The game starts in like five minutes.”

When I didn’t answer, she said, “You’re usually at every game like half an hour early. Is everything okay?”

I shrugged. “I’m that predictable?”

She smiled. “Did you and Chan fight?”

“No, nothing like that!” I paused. “Wait, why did you ask about Chan?”

“You’re going to be late,” she said, turning back to her desk.

I was torn between questioning exactly why she thought something happened between me and Chan or going to the game. I decided going to the game would at least involve less conflict.

I had to sprint to the stadium so that I wasn’t late, for once grateful Chan made me train with him every once in a while. Luckily it was one of the regulars checking tickets, and they waved me in as soon as they saw me sprinting.

I made it to the fence line just as they finished announcing the lineup for the opposing team. I didn’t need his number to pick him out, at the far end of the field, swaying back and forth a little, tapping the toe of his left cleat to the ground and sliding his foot forward until it was flat on the turf, then doing the same with his right. I couldn’t see him clearly from this far away, but I still knew his eyes were closed, and he was taking a slow deep breath, the same routine he’d performed since he first started playing soccer.

I’d seen him in his uniform since the beginning, but in the last few days, something had changed about the way he looks, as if I was only just now noticing the toned muscles in his arms, the way the uniform was loose yet still showed off shoulders that I knew from experience were firm and perfectly fit for my head. How many times had I rested my head on those shoulders without feeling a thing? Why was everything different now?

They were halfway down the lineup when he turned to the crowd. I watched him as his head turned slightly, scanning the stands, then lowering his chin and looking along the fence line. I could see the moment his eyes passed over me, fully expecting him to continue looking at the crowd. Instead, he stopped, holding my gaze despite the fact that I could barely see him. I froze when he smiled and lifted his hand in a tiny wave, forcing myself to wave back.

I was a grinning idiot, even when he forgot to pay attention to his own name and Vernon had to push him forward when his name was announced. He hastily waved towards the crowd, though I could have sworn his eyes were still on me.

The team went into a quick huddle, whispering among each other for a few seconds, then chanting the school mascot until the entire crowd took it up and the noise was deafening. I had always been curious about what they said in those huddles and finally remembered to ask a few weeks ago.

“Usually it’s just, like, ‘let’s get this done,’ or repeating something coach said about the other team,” he said. “But every once in a while it’s something dumb.”

“Like what?”

“Like jokes and bets between us,” he said, taking a sudden interest in the forks at the restaurant. We had gone out to eat after they lost their first game of the season.

“What was it today?”

He shrugged, shoving the food on his plate around. “Nothing interesting.”

As soon as the referee blew the whistle everyone was moving. It might look like chaos, but I’d seen enough soccer to know that it was an organized dance, how, much like all sports, there were patterns that were followed. My eyes followed Chan as he jogged ahead, waiting for someone to pass him the ball. Our team had taken control of the ball first, one of the seniors, Joshua, dodging around their defense before passing the ball across the field to Jun, the left forward.

Chan was in a good spot to score, the defense mostly focused on Jun, all he had to do was get the ball to him. I could feel the tension building, not just on the field, but in the crowd, as Jun dodged them again and again, then suddenly kicked the ball straight across the field. It looked like the ball wasn’t going anywhere, sliding across the fake grass without anyone from either team to stop it. And then Chan was there. Even I had lost him while watching Jun and the ball. He seemed to have come out of nowhere, kicking the ball as hard as he could before any of the defenders could react, sending it soaring up, the goalie reaching in vain, the ball soaring just over his hands and into the top corner of the goal.

The crowd erupted into cheers, myself the loudest of them all. Chan sprinted back to the home side of the field, grinning like an idiot. He ran past where I stood on the fence line and I could have sworn he winked at me. The rest of the team half tackled him as if he’d scored the game winning goal, chanting, “Dino! Dino! Dino!”

I frowned. Where had they learned that? As far as I knew, I was the only one to ever call him that. I supposed it wasn’t a big deal that other people called him by that name, but it still felt strange. I didn’t like that something that was ours was suddenly shared.

The referee blew his whistle and they finally reorganized themselves. Scoring a goal so early on could be dangerous, encouraging them to relax and let their defenses down. As they spread out on the field, I didn’t notice any of that. Chan was focused from the second the referee blew his whistle and the game play started again. I glanced at the team, and they all seemed equally intense.

I tried to think of why they were so focused. Were they playing a rival? The other team was good and a win would count toward their conference ranking, but it wasn’t anyone I thought warranted this level of focus. Maybe they were still upset that they lost the game last week, though they’d swept the tournament they played this past weekend.

The rest of the first half was uneventful, neither team able to score. Chan and Minghao, another forward, both came close but the balls were stopped by the other team’s goalie. Jihoon, our own goalie, only had to stop one ball. Everything else was stopped by what we affectionately called the Great Wall. Mingyu and Seungcheol were the main defenders, and were famous in our region for rarely letting a ball through our defense.

After the quick break, the teams returned to the field, switching sides. Now Chan would be closer to my side, running most of the offense almost in front of me. As soon as the whistle was blown he was moving, running right past me. I was probably imagining the smell of his detergent as he passed me by.

About half an hour in, I thought they might be able to score, but Chan lost the ball to one of their defenders and it was sent halfway across the field to their midfielders. Seungcheol and Mingyu did a good job, but even they weren’t quite able to stop the other team from pushing them down the field, closer to our goal. I held my breath as their forward got a good kick on the ball.

People tended to underestimate our goalie because he was pretty short. They didn’t know how quickly Jihoon could move, how good he was at anticipating where the ball would be kicked. I wondered if he was consciously aware of what he was seeing or if it was all instinct now. He made snagging the ball out of the air look easy, hanging on to it until the outfielders were back on the other side of the field.

Chan passed by me again as Jihoon threw the ball across the field, staying just in front of the defenders. They passed the ball around, not able to get past the defense, but also not giving up possession. Five minutes passed, then ten, and still neither team scored. We were still up by one, but as the time ticked down, the other team grew more desperate.

At 4 minutes and 47 seconds, they pushed through the defense. One of their forwards swung his foot back to kick the ball but turned slightly at the last second, slamming his foot into Mingyu’s shin. The taller boy dropped to the ground, but no whistle was blown, and the forward got a shot off. Jihoon couldn’t quite get to the ball and it just barely made it in.

1-1

While Seungcheol, the captain, and the coach shouted at the referee at the blatant foul that wasn’t called, the rest of the team regrouped. Mingyu had gotten up after a couple seconds, and from where I was looking he looked fine, though clearly mad. The referee gave Seungcheol a yellow card and he finally backed down, and our coach called a time out.

The crowd began the usual chants, though there was more passion after the horrible calls. When I was in the stands, I was normally screaming along with them, sometimes even leading them. I didn’t have any energy tonight to join in.

The time out wasn’t nearly long enough to cool them down. I could tell by the way they stalked back out onto the field that most of them were still mad, and I couldn’t blame them. The second the referee blew the whistle they were on the attack, sending the ball down the field recklessly fast. Chan was moving better than I’d ever seen before, anticipating where the defense would be and dodging before they even moved into position. The ball was passed to him quickly, though he immediately shot it off to one of the midfielders.

The lower the time got, the more desperate each team was. We somehow still held control of the ball for two full minutes, still unable to get a shot off.

At 2 minutes and 13 seconds, Chan had the ball again. He was moving like everyone else was stuck in quicksand, dodging the defenders and driving a path towards the goal. I could feel that he was going to get past them, going to score, and then he found and opening, swinging his foot back and-

And he got slammed to the ground by one of their defenders. This time the referee couldn’t ignore it, blowing his whistle. I was pretty sure there was about to be a fight, but I couldn’t look away from Chan, who was still on the ground. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat as I waited for him to get up, for him to move. He was only a few feet away from me. The idiotic part of me wanted to hop the fence and jump onto the field but what would I do? Yell at him until he woke up?

His back was to me and the longer he went without moving the more scared I got. Had he hit his head? Was something broken? I desperately wanted him to do something to at least show he was still alive.

Jun and Minghao, the other forwards, got to him first, kneeling next to him until the trainer finally reached him. I was vaguely aware of Mingyu and Seungkwan holding Seungcheol back as he yelled at the other team, but I couldn’t look away from Chan. From my angle, I could only see him reach his arm out, but I felt like I could finally breathe again. He was alive, at least.

The trainer spoke to him for a minute or two, then apparently decided he could be moved. Jun and Minghao helped him up and half carried him off the field, setting him on the table the trainer had set up to treat the athletes. It was foolish, but all I wanted to do was run over there, to see with my own eyes that he was okay.

After another time out, this time by the other team, the game started again. I couldn’t pay attention to anything, only watching Chan from across the field as the trainer made him go through yet more exercises, finally gesturing for him to follow her to the athletics building. I tried to decide if that was a good thing or not. It meant that he was well enough to walk on his own, but what did she need in the building? Did he need specialized treatment?

I had given up on paying attention to the match. The second half ended with the score still tied but all I could think of was Chan, suffering alone.

“Screw it,” I muttered. I pushed off the fence, walking towards the building with long strides. I’d been there more than a few times with Chan while we were hanging out before practice, sometimes wandering the building but often while he got treatment in the trainer’s office. Sometimes it felt like I was around Chan so much that I might as well be a part of the team.

I knew exactly where the office was. A week ago I wouldn’t have been nervous making this trip. I probably wouldn’t have left the stands at such an intense match, though I might have been a little worried. Everything had changed so quickly. I could feel adrenaline coursing through my veins as if I had been the one on the field playing.

I got to the trainer’s office and froze. Normally I would walk in without a thought to it, but I was suddenly not sure of anything. What if he just wanted to be alone? Or what if he didn’t want me there?

I decided I would at least rather see that he was alive. I knocked once then opened the door.

“Yn,” the trainer said with a warm smile. She’d been so happy when I told her I was interested in athletic medicine, inviting me to come with Chan whenever I wanted. The whole summer she’d been hinting at a relationship between me and Chan, despite both of our protests.

I waved, looking for Chan. He was laying on one of the tables on his stomach shirtless, wires hooked up to something on his back covered by ice packs, his eyes closed, looking like he was asleep.

“Is he okay?” I asked softly.

“Oh he’s fine,” she answered. “And he’s not sleeping, I don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling.” His eyes flicked open and he glared at her.

“Well, I need to see if anyone else decided to get hurt while you get pampered,” she said. “I’ll be back in like five minutes, so just don’t die.” Chan gave her a thumbs up and she was gone.

I pulled a chair next to his table, leaning against the side. Chan’s arm only a few inches away from mine.

“Did we win?” He asked before I had a chance to say anything.

“That’s seriously all you want to know? You’re not even going to tell me if you’re okay?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine,” I said, “I have no idea, it went into overtime so I came here.” He was silent. “Are you okay?“ I asked again.

He let out a dramatic sigh. “I got the wind knocked the fuck out of me. Seriously, I’ve been hit before but that hurt. You need to check my chest for shoulder marks later.”

My cheeks flushed at the thought of being in front of him while he was shirtless, and I was happy his face was pressed into the leather cushion. I’d seen him shirtless plenty of times, but thinking about it now…

“What’s this?” I asked, brushing my fingers lightly on the wires, trying not to think about brushing them against the bare skin of his back.

“Stim,” he said. “My back was sore from getting knocked into the ground by that asshole and I just thought it would feel nice.” He turned his head at an awkward angle so that he could look at me. I could only meet his gaze for a few seconds before I looked away.

“Do you think it’s over yet?” He asked, breaking the silence that lasted for nearly a minute.

“You could have gotten seriously hurt and you’re still more worried about the game? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

“Hey I am concussion free!” Chan said. “She did the test and everything. I just- I want to know if we won or not! It’s important that we don’t lose to assholes that body slam people!”

He was right, but I had known Chan for too long. He was lying.

“Besides, since when have you been worried about me?” He turned so that he could see me. “When I almost broke my wrist two years ago you said you would rather die than miss the end of the game.”

“That was playoffs!”

“We were up by four goals!”

I opened my mouth to argue back, but he was right. I was different now. I just didn’t have the guts to tell him why.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I’m not always the best friend to you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Chan said immediately, brushing his hand against mine. He looked so uncomfortable trying to face me while laying flat on his stomach. I slipped out of the chair, sitting on the floor in front of the table so that he could look straight at me, trying not to think about how he almost held on to my hand.

We stayed like that for a moment, Chan staring into my eyes and me staring right back. In the end I couldn’t take his gaze, looking down at the tile floor and realizing the pattern was really fascinating, even if it was clearly from 1990.

“I’m sorry,” Chan said. “I’m not upset about something from two years ago. I just… I want to tell you something but I don’t know if it’s right and they said I should do it when it’s right but I have no idea what that means, and then they said that maybe it wouldn’t ever be right, so I just… I don’t know.”

I could feel all of my courage crumbling as I looked back at him, dark eyes filled with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. I felt like he could see right through me.

“Chan…” I said. “You’re my best friend. I’ve known you for so long I don’t think I know who I am without you, and I think that’s what really scares me. You’re like this weird carrot that’s grown next to my carrot and we’ve coiled around each other and they exist on their own as separate carrots, but if they aren’t together, it just looks lonely.”

I peeked at Chan and he was frowning. Not my best metaphor. “I’m trying to say that I don’t like who I am without you. You mean everything to me.”

“You mean a lot to me, too,” he said slowly.

I groaned. “You’re not getting it! I’m trying to tell you that I like you, Chan!”

He quiet for a moment. “Yn, did you just confess to me while I’m laying on a table after being knocked out?”

“When you put it like that…” I stared at my hands. So that’s what I felt like to ruin everything.

“Yn.”

I wondered if I could successfully vanish, maybe start a new life raising sheep in Mongolia.

“Hey,” Chan said, reaching his hand out to brush against my cheek. “You’re an idiot.”

“I feel so much better,” I said, burying my face in my hands. “Thank you for that.”

“Please look me in the eyes for this,” Chan said. As much as I wanted to dig a hole and rot away in it, I couldn’t deny him this, especially not when he was using such a gentle yet firm tone. I forced myself to meet his eyes, finding comfort in the familiarity, even if I knew everything had changed and it was my fault.

“I have been trying to tell you I like you for months and you do it in pretty much the least romantic way possible,” he said. “Seriously, there are electrical impulses being shot down my back.”

“I take it back, I feel nothing,” I said, standing up.

He laughed, that stupid, infectious laugh that never failed to make me smile, reaching out and catching my hand. “Can you give me like five seconds to at least be sitting upright?”

I nodded, still facing the door so that he couldn’t see my smile.

“I might need some help, actually,” Chan said after a moment. “This stuff is kinda stuck to my back.”

I turned to him, taking in the situation. He’d gotten the ice packs off but the pads for stim were stuck to his back. This wasn’t the first time I’d helped him with stim, in fact I’d done it for half the team (albeit usually on their knees or shoulders). Helping Chan now, my cheeks were probably bright red, fingers tingling every time they brushed against his skin. The four pads came off easily and I stuck them back onto the plastic they normally were stuck to, turning off the machine and putting everything back where it should be. When I turned around, Chan was sitting up rolling his shoulders back. If my face wasn’t already a tomato it was now. Chan laughed as I looked anywhere but at him.

“You’re not going to check for shoulder marks?” He asked. He was probably batting his eyes and pretending to be innocent.

I glanced him over, trying hard to force my eyes past his bare chest, then tossed his shirt at him. “Shoulder mark free.”

“Are you sure, because you didn’t look very hard and-”

“Oh my god, Chan, just put on the shirt!”

He laughed, pulling it over his head. “You’re so easy to tease.” He caught my hands when I tried to step away again, gently tugging on them so that I was facing him while he still sat on the table.

“Yn,” he said softly, running his thumbs over my knuckles. “I had a whole plan of how I was going to tell you how I felt. We’d go to that cafe, or sometimes I planned it for the library, and once I even planned to try to tell you on the field. None of them worked because every time I saw you I couldn’t figure out a way to get the words in my heart out so that you could hear them.” He held my gaze and I knew he wasn’t lying. I hadn’t lasted a week with these feelings. How had Chan been able to stand it?

“I really, really like you,” Chan said. “And I-”

The door was slammed open and all of a sudden the room was filled with noise. I let go of one of his hands as half the team came streaming in. With the hand he still held, Chan pulled me closer to him until I was shoulder to shoulder with him, lacing his fingers with mine.

“Chan you’re alive!” Seokmin shouted.

“Yeah I was going to go to the light but I remembered you guys are hopeless without me.”

“Hopeless?” Soonyoung laughed. “Just for that I’m not telling you who won.”

“I don’t think that matters anymore,” Jeonghan said, gesturing to me and Chan.

“Hey!” Seokmin shouted. “That’s cheating!”

“What’s going on?” I whispered in Chan’s ear.

“I’ll explain later,” he whispered back, then said to everyone, “I appreciate your concern for my love life, but seriously, did we win or not?”

Seungcheol leaned against the counter with a smug smile. “You think we’d let a team like that win?”

Chan grinned, turning to me. I hoped he couldn’t hear how loud my heart was beating when he turned his gaze on me like that. “Yn, will you go on a date with me?”

I forgot about the team who were hollering around us, forgot about the game, forgot about everything except me and Chan. “Of course.”

Chan only let go of my hand once as we walked back to the apartment, and it was only to let me put on his sweatshirt. As soon as I pulled my arms through the sleeves, his hand was back in mine. It should have felt weird to be this intimate after a lifetime of friendship. It felt like we should have been like this from the beginning.

“You’re sure you feel the same way?“ Chan asked.

“If you ask me one more time I’m going to change my mind,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I had resigned myself to being your b-f ‘best friend,’ not b-f ‘boyfriend.’”

“First of all, Seungkwan is my best friend,” I said.

“Um, wrong, I’ve known you for longer.”

“That’s not the point but I have a feeling you’re going to win this one so I’m just going to give up now.” I turned to look him in the eyes. “But seriously, how long have you liked me? And don’t you dare say from the moment I met you or some bullshit because I know that’s not true.”

“No, I’m not that dramatic. I think the moment I realized it was at graduation.” He smiled at the memory, pausing on the sidewalk.

“Do you remember how we went straight from the ceremony to the beach and that first night we stayed up all night talking about the future and we watched the sunrise over the water?” He waited for my nod. “I remember listening to you talk about your life plans and realizing how lucky I am to know you, and then realizing that I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it.

“Do you know how magical you looked watching the sunrise? I know it’s the cheesiest line ever, but you really were prettier than the sunrise and ever since then I haven’t been able to think of anyone but you.” Chan smiled and my heart felt like it was going to explode. I leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, then suddenly felt shy, turning and continuing to walk. Chan didn’t move until I was tugging on his hand.

“Your turn,” he said after a few moments passed and the heat in my cheeks had finally died down. “When did you realize?”

“Last week,” I said. “Right before you left for the tournament you asked for a kiss goodbye, and I thought it was just a joke but then I spent all weekend thinking about your lips and about how that’s definitely not best friend thoughts, and then I started thinking about you and then I realized that for everything in my life I go to you, and you are the only person in the world who knows how to make me smile when I am having a horrible day, and you don’t complain when I’m being mean or grumpy, and you are the only person I could ever see myself spending the rest of my life with.

“I know it’s not as romantic as watching the sunrise with you and maybe you think these five days aren’t long enough to feel anything as strong as you, but, Chan, I swear I know my heart and you are the only one in it, and the only one that will ever be in it.” It was terrifying to say these things out loud, but I turned to Chan and he had the biggest smile on his face.

He stepped closer to me until there were only a few inches between us, bringing one hand to my cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He asked so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

I nodded, closing my eyes as he leaned closer, nose brushing against mine, and it was not a gentle kiss like mine had been. His hand slid to the back of my head, the other one finally letting go and slipping to hold my waist. I wrapped my own arms around his neck, pulling him as close as I could.

Chan pulled away first, though his arms stayed wrapped around me. “Feedback?”

I laughed, burying my head in his chest. ‘Feedback’ was always for class presentations, or how I thought he did in his last game. “Only if you tell me why your team calls you Dino.”

I disentangled myself from his arms, lacing our fingers back together and beginning to walk again.

“You better not be mad about that because it’s your fault,” he said, catching up to me easily. “Seokmin and Soonyoung saw you spamming me with those dinosaur stickers while we were at an away game and I had to explain to them that you made the nickname when we were six and already a cruel monster.”

“It’s not my fault you cried unless you brought your stuffie to school with you.”

“Don’t you dare tell them that part!” He said. “They’ll never let it go, it’s bad enough I have Seungkwan holding it over me.”

I laughed. “You haven’t explained what was going on in the training room either, by the way.”

“Right.” I glanced at him and he avoided my eyes.

“What is it?”

“It’s embarrassing,” he whined.

“More embarrassing than getting dumped fifteen minutes after the relationship started?”

“You wouldn’t,” Chan said and he was right, but it still worked because he let out a dramatic sigh and kept walking. “Do you remember last week after we lost and we went out to eat and you asked me about what we say in the pregame huddles?” He waited until I nodded to continue. “Well, apparently my crush was obvious to everyone other than you and Seokmin and Soonyoung specifically were determined to ‘help’ me confess so they thought it would be funny to say ‘when we win Chan has to tell yn how he feels,’ but then we lost and someone said that maybe we just weren’t meant to be and it was a joke, but I’ve been overthinking it since then.

“Then today, Seungcheol said it, and I think it was supposed to be a joke but everyone took it really seriously and I don’t know, I really felt like if we didn’t win today then maybe we really wouldn’t ever work out.

“But then you showed up and confessed to me in the least romantic way possible and I realized how dumb I was,” Chan said, grinning.

“You’re kind of an idiot,” I said.

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” he said, leaning into me.

“You’re ridiculous.” I tried unsuccessfully to hide my smile.

He snuck closer, pressing a kiss to my cheek, then wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer to him. I couldn’t think of any more insults to throw at him, so I leaned into him.

“So, are you going to give me feedback on my kissing or not?”

“I’m not sure, I think I need to try again before forming an opinion.”

Chan laughed, turning to face me with a smile that could break hearts. “You better pay attention this time.” He kissed me and I was floating.

When I finally pushed back, he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Two out of ten, honestly, I’m disappointed, I thought you could do better than this,” I said, pushing his arms off of me before I could react and sprinting away.

“Hey!” He shouted. “I’m still handicapped! I got knocked out today!” Despite his protests, he caught up to me easily, wrapping his arms around me from behind, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“Want to try again?”

“Hm, nope,” I said, giggling when he wrapped his arms even tighter.

“You are so lucky I love you,” he said, pressing another kiss on my cheek. I wondered if he noticed that he let the word slip. I settled my hands on his arms, holding him to me just as tightly as he was. There was a gentle breeze in the air, the streetlights warm and cozy, and I decided I would spend the rest of my life like this, me and Chan, together.

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