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writercole · 2 years

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Picking Up the Pieces

Summary: Three months, two knocks, one confession. Squares: "I've loved you for three summers..." @taylorswiftbingo Words: 1387 Warnings: angst, fluff, implied smut Credits: HUGE thanks to @princessmisery666 for helping me out with the beta A/N: Finally finished the sequel to Crashing Down that I've been promising! I promise more Supernatural is on its way. I just have to follow the dopamine right now.

It had been three months since the last midnight ride with Opie. She had struggled with letting go of the brief connection they shared that night. At least the distance made denying her feelings easier.

Rumors circulated through Charming. It was a small town, after all. She heard that Lyla and Opie had split up. Then she heard how they got back together. Then they split up again. Each rumor sent her down a treacherous path of hope, regret, depression, and loneliness.

The faith she had for him was fading, withering like grass in a drought. Her love flourished in the silence of her phone, in the empty doorways. The pain came along with it, flaring in the light, swarming in the dark, filling the cracks in her heart with her tears, salty rivers of grief ebbing and flowing like the tide.

It had been three months since the broken pieces of her heart had been shattered to dust, where she cried herself to sleep every night, where her dreams were easier than dealing with reality. She’d withdrawn from her life outside of her home and sweats, working remotely and having Chucky bring her the basic groceries that she needed.

She was nodding off to sleep when she heard the tell-tale rumble of a bike, of his bike. She kept her eyes tightly shut, believing that she was starting to dream early, that her dreams would make her happy. The sound swelled, drowning out the television reruns of old seventies sitcoms. As abruptly as it started, it stopped, the laugh track becoming the main sound in the house again.

Her eyes flew open when she heard two pounding knocks. She stayed still, wrapped in a fleece blanket on the sofa, convinced she had hallucinated the sound. The pounding echoed again. She leapt from her position, her heart racing as she sped to the door.

Three months had passed since she’d last seen him standing there, his head bowed, his hair slicked back, and his beard windswept.

The days had been kind to him.

Yes, he had dark circles from a lack of sleep. Yes, there were streaks of silver in his brown hair and his thick beard. But he hadn’t lost any weight like she had.

His eyes, though. His eyes spoke volumes. The deep brown betrayed him, unleashing the sorrow, the heartache, and the hopelessness. Tears shimmered along his lashes as he gazed at her standing in the doorway.

She didn’t speak, just stepped aside to invite him inside, shutting the door after him. She walked to the living room with him on her heels and wrapped herself in her favorite blanket before sitting on the couch.

Opie stood awkwardly near the armchair, his thumbs hooked in his jeans. His eyes hadn’t left her since she opened the door. He was shocked by her red-rimmed eyes, the ones that used to sparkle when she saw him. She looked frail, her cheeks were sunken and her skin pale. She looked nothing like his favorite person in the world. He knew it was his own fault.

“Are you going to just stand there all day, like one of those weird, silent security guards?” she asked, her eyes focused on the tv.

“I miss you,” he admitted sadly as he settled in the armchair, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward.

“Ope,” she sighed as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She couldn’t handle it if he walked away again. It might actually kill her this time.

“Hear me out. Please,” he begged.

She nodded her head, her eyes still closed and her head still tipped backwards.

“You were right. I didn’t care about Lyla the way I should have. I strung her along for far too long but that’s over now,” he confessed, a tear spilling over his lashes into his beard.

“You’re done with Lyla?” she repeated as she turned to face him.

“Yeah. Done. I told her I couldn’t be the one she needed to love her. She said she already knew but was hoping that maybe she was wrong,” he explained as his gaze met hers.

“But why are you here? Now. Three months later?” she demanded quietly.

“Because as much as I tried, as much as I wanted to move on, I couldn’t.” Opie swallowed hard as he watched her, wanting to memorize the way she looked. Because Chucky had kept him informed and, truth be told, he was afraid. He was afraid that he would be asked to leave again. So he took a deep breath and blurted it out.

“I couldn’t move on because I am in love with you. I’ve loved you for three summers and I want them all. Every summer, every winter, and everything in between.”

“Opie, please don’t lie to me,” she whispered as tears flowed down her face.

“I’m not lying to you. I would never do that,” he insisted quietly, moving to sit next to her and cradling her face in his hands.

She searched his face looking for something, anything that would give away his inner thoughts. All she found was hope, love, adoration.

“You really mean that?”

“I do,” he replied. “I mean every word of it. I should never have started anything with Lyla. I knew it would always be you. But the thought of anything happening to you because of me, like what happened to Donna…that terrifies me. With Jax taking over the club, I don’t have to worry about that anymore. I love you. I need you. Today, tomorrow, for the rest of my life.”

Opie’s eyes were filled with tears as he watched her sob next to him. His heart ached as he felt her tears hitting his hands, falling to his lap. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as she clung him, allowing her to cry out the tears that had built up inside of her.

Opie held her tightly, whispering soothing words as he caressed her hair, promising that he was there, that he would never leave her again. Her sobs softened into soft sniffles and then her grip on him loosened, her breathing evening out as she finally fell asleep.

Y/N woke in her bed feeling rested. She wasn’t sure if she dreamt what had happened or if it was actually real. She stepped out of the bed and headed to the bathroom. While washing her face, she heard noises coming from the kitchen and smelled coffee a few seconds later.

Grabbing the small revolver she kept by her bed, she crept quietly up the hallway, sighing and lowering the gun when she saw who was in the kitchen.

“Rustling around someone else’s kitchen is a good way to get shot, Winston,” she teased as she set her weapon down on the counter.

“At least you still know what to do with it,” he chuckled. “I thought you would have guessed it was me.”

“Why would I have guessed that?” she scoffed. “Just because you came here and bared your soul last night and then I wake up in my bed instead of the couch. I still woke up alone.”

“Good point,” he admitted. “I wanted to continue our conversation from last night.”

“I don’t think we need to talk about anything more, Ope.”

He nodded and walked towards the back door, pausing to press a kiss to her head as he passed. Her hand wrapped around his wrist and she tugged him back in front of her.

She looked up at him, seeing his sad eyes, and smiled. Standing on her tiptoes, she pulled his head down, pressing her lips to his in a needy kiss. His arms snaked around her waist and he pulled her close, her chest pressed tightly to his.

Opie broke the kiss and looked down at her soft smile and sparkling eyes. Her fingers toyed with his hair as they gazed at one another.

“We don’t need to talk anymore,” she muttered, “but we have a lot of time to make up for.”

“Yes, we do,” he agreed, tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her down the hallway. The door to her bedroom slammed shut behind them, the new chapter in their lives starting with a kiss and a giggle.

Everything: @thelastpyle @deangirl93 @downanddirtydean @katelyn--renee @fictional-affairs @lassie-bird @paintlavillered @buckys-zomdoll @polireader @b3autyfuldisast3r @welcometothefandommultiverse @mlovesstories

Sons: @princessmisery666 @stephv213

#writercole #taylorswiftbingo #opie winston #angst to fluff #part two

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recklessmark · 3 years

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mine

—when the bodyguard your dad hired is your long lost rival.

Pairings: bodyguard Mark x mob-boss Reader

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: unprotected sex (be safe!), dirty talk, rough sex, oral sex, spanking, slut shamming, orgasm denial, mark is possessive but cute at the end.

The sounds of your heels clicking against the ground filled up the silent patio. You stormed into your house after receiving a text from your dad, basically demonstrated that he had sent you a new bodyguard since your job had been getting more intense lately. This should be the umpteenth guard that your dad hired, how are they supposed to protect you when every time you get into trouble, they can’t even take care of themselves.

You locked the door, kicking your shoes off before walking inside. Noticing a figure of a man sitting on the couch, you frowned. One hand holding the gun holster, the other finding the light switch. But they immediately fell onto your mouth when the man in question himself turned around due to the sudden light in the room. Your eyes went widen, still not believed in what you saw. He stood up, a coy smirk displayed on his face as he slowly approached you.

“You miss me?”

You looked him up and down, confirming that you were not dreaming, “M-Mark Lee? You’re alive?”

Your back is against the wall as Mark pressed his body on you, your faces were an inch away from each other. You’re babbling, dying to know how it’s possible for your long lost rival, Mark Lee, revitalized from his death and now standing in your house. Mark had been on the back of your head since the day you heard the news of his death from a combat. Apparently you’re supposed to hate him but that period of time was the darkest of your life, you practically couldn’t live without him.

He leaned in, his nose was brushing yours, “If I knew my appearance can earn that reaction from you, I would accept the job offer sooner.”

You tensed under his muscular body, his face plastered with arrogance. You squinted your eyes at him, “So you’re the body guard that my dad hired?”

Mark nodded, “Didn’t know that my death make your career path a lot easier. You’re the boss now huh?”

You pushed him away, you needed to go since you’re melting into his touch and that’s definitely not a good sign. You fixed your clothes before walking away.

“You can sleep on the couch or in the room next to the balcony. We’re going to the estate tomorrow.”, you called behind your back, “And don’t even think about breaking into my room at midnight.”.

You remembered that time you saw Mark sitting in front of your house with blood everywhere. You did let him stay at your place since he was terribly injured with two bullets in his shoulder and a gash on his ribs. He was super lucky to magically survive after that much damage, and you thought you could be a surgeon that you were phenomenally able to save him with some basic medical skills. Mark stayed with you for two weeks and literally broke into your room every night despite of your death threats and the locks on your door that you only bought because of him. You pathetically had no sleep at that time, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully when your hot enemy was pressing his chest against your back. You sighed, Mark Lee is the first bodyguard you didn’t kick out on the first day and the only bodyguard you let staying at your place.

—

You’re questioning yourself about the faith you put in Mark, your used-to-be enemy, that you actually allowed him to be your bodyguard and now you’re guiding him to your estate. What if he’s preparing for a terrorization?

“So why did you fake your death?”, you asked, only loud enough for him to hear clearly.

Mark glanced at you as he’s trying to find the perfect vocabulary for the situation, “The boss thought I’m a threat to the gang so they attempted to kill me many times, unsuccessfully though.”

“That you’ll murderer that coward and replace him? What in the mysterious novel is this?”, you laughed almost choked on your spit.

Everyone eyes landed on you and Mark when you stepped inside the building, the faint smile on your lips had soon faded away. They respectfully greeted you as you made your way to the office.

“What are you involved with?”

You heard him question when you’re in the elevator. Your fingers tapped on your lips,

“Pharmaceuticals”

“Drugs”

You darted your eyes at him as the word fell out of his mouth. “God, I’m trying to make it sound legal, no need to say it out loud like that.”, you gave him a warning look before continued talking.

“Automotive recovery and repair”

“Grand theft auto”

You’re not bothered to yell at Mark or whatsoever, as if he hadn’t done all that things.

“Defense trading”

“Selling illegal weapons”

You stopped a bit, looking at the number on the monitor screen of the elevator.

“And contract execution.”

The elevator was finally on the highest floor, which only has your office and the meeting room. You stopped at your track when you see a gap on your office door, you always remember to lock it up before going home, except it’s...

“Y/N!”

You almost passed out, you should’ve mentioned that you totally hate surprises. How do people find it’s funny when they scare the fuck out of somebody?

“Lee Haechan? When did you get here?”

You lost your balance when Haechan jumped on you for a hug, “Last night.”

You fumbled on your feet as the weight on you hardened your breathing. “God, do you always have to cling on me like that?”

His arms wrapped around your waist, he rested his head on the crook of your neck as he noticed the man that had been standing at the door frame.

“Who’s this? You better not cheat on me!”

You frowned, pushing Haechan away, “Cheat your ass! He’s my bodyguard.”, you turned around to look at Mark.

“Hey, you should go check the new people. If they mess up, I’ll kick your ass.”

You asked Haechan to leave before he continued making something up. You don’t know why he has a thing for pretending to be your boyfriend, sometimes cousin or even worse is step brother. He always knows how to get you into trouble and never take responsibility for that. You don’t know how come he’s your best friend and your assistant.

You locked the door after he already left, not care about Mark still froze at his space. You sat down, reorganized the stacks of papers on your desk.

“He’s your boyfriend?”

Your eyes flew up only for you to see that Mark was hovering over you, his hands pressed on the desk.

You looked back down, “Why would you care?”

He remained silent, you shrugged, unbothered by his question. Neither the two of you broke the silence first until you completed all the work, it’s already night time outside. You glanced at Mark, who’s sitting on the couch next to the window with his gaze focused on you. You flustered, wondering if he had been like that for 4 hours straight since you came to work after lunch.

“Let’s go.”

—

You’re walking to your car in the parking lot when someone familiar drew your attention.

“Jaehyun!”

You hollered while running towards the man. He caught you in his arms as you peck on his cheeks, which was not become unnoticed by Mark. He recognized the man, Mark had a few combats with him before.

You noticed the expression on Jaehyun’s face changed lightly when his gaze shifted. You knew what’s it about.

“He’s the bodyguard my dad hired, I’ll explain but I have to leave now okay?”

You gave him a small kiss on his lips before turning around, pulling Mark with you.

—

“Get out!”

Mark snarled when he finally pulled up in the garage. He walked out, leaving you confused in the car. Did he just yell at you? You gasped as the door beside you flung opened, he recklessly took off your seat belt before pulling you into the house.

“What the hell Mark?”

You asked when he pressed you against the door, still could not comprehend what’s happening.

“Shut up!”

He groaned into your ear, his head was on the crook of your neck, you squirmed as his hair tickled you.

“Have you done flirting with every man you meet? You want to be a slut so bad don’t you? You want Jung Jaehyun to fuck you right? And either whoever the man in your office was!”

Your body tensed under his, his breath hit your skin giving you some feelings. Both of your hands attempted to push Mark away by his shoulder but he didn’t move an inch. He left your neck to face you, his eyes gave you death stare.

“Mark take a fucking breath, okay?”, you muttered out. His eyes were still boring holes into you as you continued, “Haechan is my assistant and Jaehyun”, you stop, “I like him.”

“That jackass? That? Him?”

You frowned, “He’s not a jackass.”, you debated.

Mark grabbed you around the waist, “He doesn’t ever touch you again. Understand?” His tone was venomous. “You’re mine.”

You stood in silence as your brain functioning his words. His proximity to you was turning the heat in your veins from anger into something else.

“Oh yeah, Mark? I’m yours?”

“Mine.” His face was mere inches from yours.

You narrowed your eyes. “Fucking prove it, then, asshole.”

He tightened his grip around your waist and practically threw you onto the couch. You turned and tried to crawl away but he pulled you back down, forcefully, and slammed his hips into your ass. You could feel his erection straining against his trousers as he ground into you. You braced your hands on the couch as he kicked your legs apart and shoved your dress up around your waist.

“You want me to fucking prove it?”

He cupped your ass in his hands and squeezed hard before ripping off your lace panties and throwing them on the floor. One hand snaked around your waist to keep you from escaping while the other ran along your slit. Mark placed his finger in his mouth tasting you groaning lowly and then pulled it out with a pop. He kneeled down and ran his tongue along your slit before digging in. His tongue circling your clit before darting into your hole then going back. You moaned, your hands gripping the edge of the couch as you felt your orgasm fast approaching.

"M-Mark..." you whimpered as your legs started to shake. He groaned against you as he kept going, the vibrations making your mind go blank. "I-I-I'm... I'm go-gonna..."

He pulled away in a moment, leaving you undone. You whined, desperate to come. Instantly his hand came out and wrapped around the back of your neck pulling you close to him and smashing his lips into yours in a sloppy kiss, his tongue dominated yours as you can taste yourself on it. His other hand ran up your thigh until it reached your ass and he gripped a cheek roughly causing you to moan out.

“Do you think you deserve to cum? You acted like a slut so I treat you like one.”

He started to kiss and bite along your neck stopping every so often to leave some marks. You heard the metallic click as it was unfastened and then his zipper as he freed his cock. Then, in one motion, he slammed into your cunt.

“How about this, huh? Do you like my cock inside you?”

You gritted your teeth and nodded, Mark smacked your ass, hard. “Answer me, goddamnit. Do you like my cock inside you?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Say it.” He began a slow but punishing rhythm, pistoning into you as hard as he could. “Fucking say it, Y/N.”

“Yes–Mark....” He punctuated each of your words with a deep thrust. “I – like – your – cock – inside – me – ”

“You like it when I fuck you hard?” he growled as he began to speed up.

“Yes… yes… oh God, yes,” you moaned, giving yourself over to the pleasure.

“You filthy fucking slut… you like it when I fuck your pussy from behind like this?”

“Yes! Mark, yes!” you could feel your climax already approaching as Mark reached down to rub your swollen clit with his hips slamming into you nonstop.

“Are you mine, Y/N?” he roared.

“Yes, Mark, I’m yours!”

With that, your orgasm tore through you, your back arching as your body pulsed around him. You had barely come down from your high when leaned over, “You should be grateful that I let you cum. Turn around, dirty girl. I want your mouth.”

Mark pulled out of you and you turned around kneeling in front of him, still feeling boneless. He grasped your hair and you let your jaw drop open; he bucked his hips forward and you could taste yourself on his cock. You sucked him greedily as he thrust forward.

He groaned as he emptied himself into your mouth; you swallowed everything Mark gave you before slowly licking him clean. He fell flopped himself onto the couch, shaking from the force of his release, before wrapping his arm around your naked body.

For a few long minutes, the only sound was your labored breathing as you tried to recover.

“Do you actually like Jaehyun?”

Mark mumbled but loud enough for you to hear, his breath was still heavy.

You leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder, your legs curled up, pressing against your bare chest. “Yes, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”

His hand brushed your hair comfortably, “Why?”

“Didn’t you just claim me like two minutes ago? You can’t change your mind.”, Mark couldn’t help but giggled, he pressed his chin on your head. “Since when you have feelings for me?”, you looked up only to see his sharp jawline, his signature scent filled up your nostrils.

“I don’t know dude, may be that time when you held a dull dagger on my throat or when you attempted to shoot me with no bullet loaded in the gun.”

You slapped his arm playfully, “That was an accident!”

The room went into silence again, your eyes stared into the city outside of the wall of windows.

“Do you know when I figured out my feelings?”

Mark traced your fingers with his thumb, waiting for your answer. “I kissed Jaehyun because it’s the last kiss, I thought you don’t care.”, you intertwined your hand with his, “But I know you’re my everything the moment you I saw you sitting here, that my long lost hot rival is alive.”

#nct mark #mark lee #mark blurbs #mark boyfriend #mark imagines #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee smut #mark scenarios #mark smut #nct smut #nct u smut #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct mark lee

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raineydays411 · 3 years

Text

So warm and tender

Tony Stark x Daughter!reader

A/n: Hello! finally the last part of Ember. I hope you guys like it and sorry for making y’all wait so long for the confrontation lol)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n’s POV

“Aunt Pam?!” you say in shock as you stop struggling against the vine wrapped around your body.

“Y/n, is it really you?” your aunt said as the vine loosened its grip and gently lowered you on the ground. “ Where have you been? Everyone has been going crazy looking for you”

You don’t answer as you look at your aunt. You didn’t realise you missed her as much as you did but now all you want to do is throw yourself in her arms. So you did.Pam, sensing you needed comfort rather than an interrogation, wrapped her arms around you. “I missed so much my Petal.”

With those five words, all the hurt and pain you bottled up came out. and you cried.

As you cried, your aunt looked at the girl she hasn’t seen in eight years, and wondered what she’s been going through and if she did the right thing by giving you to your father all those years ago.

“Petal, I think you need to explain what’s going on”

You look up and sniff, “ Yeah, i think an explanation is well in order.” and you tell her everything. From the years of being ignored by your father, your last argument, the two weeks you spent in captivity, and your new powers.

“ And that’s when I found you.” You finish looking at the grim faces of Pam and the other woman, who now that you think about it looks really familiar.

“Oh, you poor puddin’!” you found your face being squished between two ands and then you were comically pressed against a body in a tight hug.

“Don’tcha worry bout a thing, me and Pammy will take care of everything, you just sit here and---” This seems familiar...

“ Harley, I don’t think she can breathe.” “Oh right, now you remember, it the blonde woman who used to sneak into the apartment”. You think to yourself as you struggle to get loose from her grip. You hear someone snicker and see Danny looking at the commotion.

“ Shut up Danny, where have you been?” You say, forgetting that you’re the only one who can see him.

“Exploring, do you thing she could hug me like that too?”

“ If you weren’t already dead, I’m sure they would kill you for that comment”

Pam and Harley look at each other in concern as it seems like you’re talking to yourself.

“ Hey kid, if you’re gonna talk to yourself, try an’ do it when other people can’t see you, like me.” The blonde says as if someone talking to themselves was a daily occurrence for her. You explain that with your powers, you were basically dead and can speak and see other dead people. Hearing that, Pam’s expression darkened

“He let you die?” she said in a grim tone. All the vines and plants in the room started whipping around angrily as if they were looking for the person who wronged you. It was then when you realized it wasn’t your Auntie Pam who taught you how to plant petunias you were looking at, this was Poison Ivy.

“ Men, you can never trust em’. Well, whadda say little flower, ya up for a little premeditated murder?” and that was the infamous Harley Quinn.

“ It would’ve been nice to know that you’re related to scary criminals y/n....” Danny said in a fearful voice. And if you were being honest you just found out that your aunt Pam was also the Poison Ivy but to be fair you haven’t seen her since you were like eight.

“I don’t want to kill him” you finally say. “ I don’t want anything to do with him. Nor his precious Spiderling.” The plants calm down as Ivy calmed down and was your aunt Pam again. “ What do you want to do?” she asks.

You think to yourself and say,” I want him to know how he made me feel, and then I want to stay with you.” Your aunt and Harley froze when you said that.

“Petal, there is nothing I want more than for you to stay with me again,” She started, “ But it isn’t safe for you to stay.” Your eyes started to water

“But I-I have powers now, I can defend myself! I won’t be any trouble, it’ll be like I’m not even here” At this point, anything was better than going back to being invisible. “Please...I don’t want to go back...”

Hearing the desperation in your voice broke Pams, Harleys, and Danny's heart. Pam because this was the daughter of her closest friend. She vowed to protect you from anything the day you came to her after losing your mother. Seeing you like this just reminded her how she, in her mind, has failed you. Seeing you so desperate to get away from the man who broke your heart reminded Harley of herself. The nights she would sneak into the tiny apartment you shared with Pammy, in hopes of escape only to get drawn back with empty promises. So yeah, she had a small soft spot for you. And Danny, you were the only person who saw him after months of being invisible. He felt like he needed to help you in your mission to get your father regret ignoring you.

“Hey Pammy...maybe we should call him...” Harley started to suggest.

“NO, I’d rather drink weed killer than go to that...orphan collector for help.” the red head spat. “ No. We’ll figure it out but she can stay here for now.”

Hearing that you had a place to call home now, gave you the motivation to go and confront your father. Not only for ignoring you, but for leaving you in that..cell for two weeks. He didn’t even attempt to look for you as far as you knew. You’d have thought at least one of the other Avengers would have came to save you. But no one came. After all those years, no one came.

“Y/n.. your eyes” Danny whispered, his cold hand touching your arm snapped you out of your mind. The neon glow of your eyes faded to your normal e/c.

“ Aunt Pam, Harley is there any way you guys can get me to New York and back?” You ask, finally ready to confront your father.

“ Well....” Harley say as with a smirk

~~~~~~~~~one terrifying ride on a stolen batplane later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon arriving to New York you made Pam and Harley wait a few blocks away from the tower, as you really didn’t want the Avengers to find out your aunt was a wanted criminal. You “went ghost” as Danny like to call it and snuck into the Tower with ease. You then snuck into your room, seeing everything covered in a layer of dust as no one has been in there for over two weeks. You packed a bag and filled it with some clothes, books and a picture of you and your mother. You took that bag and walked to the door, looking around at the room that was both you prison and safe space. It was decorated with multiple trophies, medals, and ribbons all from the multiple sports and clubs you joined to impress your father. Not like that ever happened. Danny wander around looking at the multiple teams photos you had hung up.

“ You’re a volleyball girl?” he said, “ Huh. I’d never have had guessed.”

You rolled your eyes as you finished packing. “ Hey I have a job for you.” you say turning to him. “ I need you to go to the control room and turn off the power for thirty minutes. Then turn it back on and come find me in the common room.”

“ Yes ma’am” Danny says, saluting and disappearing through the wall before he comes back. “Ummm, wheres the control room?”

You roll your eyes and explain how to get to the control room and wait. When the lights go out and you’ll make your move. Your father would have to pass through the common room to get to the control room from his lab, which you assume he’ll be. There you’ll be waiting for him.

The lights go out. It’s showtime.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony's POV

The team spent three more days searching for you. They followed every lead and half of the team even flew out to the building that collapsed an hour ago. Tony, Steve, and Natasha stood behind to look at more clues. It was a little past midnight, and both Steve and Natasha went to bed leaving Tony to tinker in his lab. Tony was making improvements to a certain spider suit as he thought about what his daughter said to him before she went missing.

“Sir, there seems to be someone in Y/--” FRIDAY started to say when the power cut out.

“FRIDAY??” Tony questioned as he walked out to check the control room, making sure to get his nano bracelet just incase. As he walked down the hallway he thought about waking up Steve and if he was brave enough to wake Natasha when he heard it.

“Hi daddy.”

Tony stopped dead in his tracks as he looked up in disbelief. The lights turned back on to reveal his daughter. Wearing a black halter top, spandex leggings, grey boots with elbow length gloves. She looked skinny, as if she hadn’t had a proper meal in the weeks she was gone. And for some reason the air was cold in the room. But there she stood.

‘Y/n” Tony said breathlessly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n pov

As you wait for Tony to walk in,you look around the common room and reminisce. You think about the time when you first moved in, and you got lost trying to find the bathroom and accidently walked into Natashas room. YOu thought she was going to kill you but ended up walking you to the restroom and back to your room. Or when you made the volleyball team way back in eighth grade, and you ran home to tell your dad but ended up telling the whole team, who were rarely all together, and they all took you out to get ice cream, minus Tony. You had to admit, even though your dad didn’t pay attention to you, Nat and Steve did. As well as the whole team, but those two really became the parental figures in your life. That’s why it hurt when not even they came for you. Even they had forgotten you.

“Hi daddy” you said in a mocking voice. Your father stopped dead in his tracks, as he looked you over in disbelief.

“Y/n”, he said in a breathless voice.

“Oh, you remember my name?” You say in an sarcastic tone. “ Didn’t seem like you did when you left me in a hydra cell for two weeks.”

Hearing that you were a prisoner of Hydra made Tony’s blood freeze.

“Hydra? Oh Y/N are you okay? What did they do to you?” He asked frantically as he walk towards you with the intent of checking if you were injured. You jerk away from him, avoiding his touch and say

“ Oh, I’m wonderful. Just so fucking fantastic. I was just experimented on and injected with various liquids that caused excruciating pain. No big deal”

“ Y/n..we spent days trying to look for you. Me and the team--”

“You and the team what Tony? I was there for two weeks. TWO WEEKS I WAS POKED AND PRODDED. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE.” You scream, anger filling your heart as you remember the agony you went through. You think about the scratches on the wall of the cells, the taunts from the guards, and screams of the undead.

“ You have no idea what I went through. What I’m going through.” You say, feeling your body grow colder as you lose control and start to shift. “ You don’t care about me. If I were Parker, you would have saved mem within SECONDS.”

“That's not true. Y/N you have no idea how much I love you.” Tony tries to say. He’s filled with the need to tell you everything he didn’t tell you before. “I know I haven’t always been the best father. Trust me I know that now. But if you give me a chance, I want to make everything right. Please.”

You didn’t think it would go like this. In fact you were not at all prepared for Tony to say this. You expected to walk in on him continuing his life as normal, tinkering in his lab and such. You had always yearned to hear him say those words to you. But now, they just fill you with anger.

“You think you could just tell me what I want to hear and what? I’ll just act like nothing happened?? I know you’re not that stupid.” You spit, the room growing colder as you get angrier. “ It’s too late for all that Tony. I’m not the same girl i was two weeks ago.i won;t take it any longer.”

“Y/n..your eyes” Tony says as he slowly starts to put his gauntlet bracelet on, realising that you are becoming a threat.

“ Oh do you like them?”, You ask “ This is what happened when they injected me. I can also do this.” You shift, shades of blue taking over brown skin. Tony stared at you in awe and a bit of fear.

“ Y/n this isn’t you. I know you’re angry but--” “ Isn’t me?” You interrupt.” You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m like. And even if you did the old me died in that cell. Literally I died” You and Tony stared at each other. and that's when you heard the doors open. Two sets of footsteps started rushing to the commotion.

“Y/N some red head and beefy blonde are on their way” You hear Danny say as you realize you had to wrap it up. If anyone can convince you to stay, it’s Steve and Nat.

“ It doesn’t matter anymore Tony.” you say as you start walking to the window. “ I can’t stay here anymore. There’s nothing for me. You win. Peter can be the child you always wanted cause from now on, consider me dead.” and with that, you phase threw the window and let yourself fall, knowing that you won’t actually fall as you can fly.

Tony freaks out and calls for his suit, only to see a blue blur shoot up and across the sky. Then he just sits there and stares. The footsteps reach the common room and he hears someone ask

“ Stark..what was all the yelling. What's going on?”

“she's gone” He says, and that's when he truly realizes his mistake. He became what he never wanted to become. He became his father. And now you were gone.

Taglist: @vxidsti1es @big-galaxy-chaos

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peakyblindersxx · 3 years

Text

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

#john shelby imagine #john shelby x reader #john shelby fluff #john shelby series #john shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinder fanfic #john shelby smut #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader

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hansoulo · 3 years

Text

whisper scarcely breathing

part four of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NC-17, NSFW, explicit language, mentions of canon-typical violence, fluff, hurt/comfort but without the hurt, bathing and/or being bathed, choking, female-receiving oral, loss of virginity, unprotected M/F intercourse

Word Count: 6.1k

Image Credit: (x) by @/365filmsbyauroranocte, not meant to be a representation of the reader

A/N: this one is for the boys with the boomin’ system 😩💦

༓ series masterlist ༓

The datapad that you’d left in the garden was thrust back into your possession one morning by the hurried hands of a maid. Truthfully, you had forgotten all about it. The mind, when faced with matters as pressing as the press of a mouth, tends to forget about inconsequential objects.

You’d never met the girl standing in front of you before, and she avoided your eyes while passing over the small screen. She seemed eager to be rid of it. You couldn’t say you blamed her. “‘S yours, miss. The bounty hunter said you’d lost it.”

Did he, now?

“Thank you,” you replied sincerely, careful not to let the datapad drop to the floor as you tucked it back into the deep brocade of your gown pockets. You didn’t have the wherewithal at first to ask her when he’d found it or found the time to return it. But you also didn’t have the common sense to keep your mouth shut. “Could I ask when he gave it to you?”

The servant ducked her head. “This morning, your Highness. I- I was in the loading bay when they left, think he was tryin’ to get a hold of you but didn’t have the time, told me- told me to keep quiet ‘bout it.” A bob of her throat signalled a nervous swallow. “Princess.”

Poor girl, you thought to yourself absentmindedly. Boba probably scared her half out of her wits.

“Really, I can’t thank you enough.” You touched a soft hand to the servant’s shoulder in an misguided attempt to soothe. She returned the action with a nervous smile, eyes still downcast and trying not to shy away.

You never realized how afraid they all were. Of you.

The realization made your tongue tangle in your throat, tripping over some lie about a fever and champagne-induced amnesia as explanation for your exchanges with a man so ill-acquainted.

Hopefully, the maid didn’t make a habit of gossip.

Hopefully, you stopped making a habit of Boba Fett.

⫸———————————————— ⫷

A chaincode, a datapad tracking number, and the rest of your life flashed in backlit neon. You silently cursed yourself for not putting an opening passcode on anything, including the datapad that you now held with slightly tremoring hands.

In your defense, it’s not like it held anything of interest. Mostly just holonovels and some pictures of things you found intriguing enough to want to paint or draw.

But now there was a thing of veritable interest stuffed into a new folder titled “Your Highness” and glowing in galactic basic.

BF-18378-3263827

You stared at the numbers until they morphed into a strong, stern-featured face, muddy in your imagination against the ink night invading your bedroom. Boba left his tracking number there for you. If you wanted to, you could use them to message him or comm him or leave a holoprojection message. Whenever you wanted. Right now, even.

When did he even find your datapad? Why he found it (and why he returned it with the aforementioned numerical contraband) was probably a more apt question.

There was quite a lot to think about. Best to take stock of the present moment, lest you lose your head and go completely mad. As if you hadn’t already.

The facts repeated themselves in a half-conscious mantra, screen slipping out of your hands and onto the pillow beside your head. Facts. Facts were good. What were the facts, again?

Boba Fett was arguably the most dangerous bounty hunter in the galaxy.

Boba Fett was not much of a talker.

Boba Fett was a piss-poor dancer.

And Boba Fett was an unfairly good kisser.

The beginning three points held little negative sway, with the first adding much more appeal than it should, the second a welcome relief, and the third being… sort of endearing.

It was on the last point that your mind lingered the longest.

You didn’t even realize you’d copied numbers into the screen’s communications system until its microphone crackled to life.

One breath, two breaths, stuck in your sleep-thick throat. No words from either side yet. Did you get the tracking code wrong? Maybe. Maybe.

Maybe you were dreaming already, imagining the wind outside to be the quiet, husky inhale that sounded from the other end of the receiver.

“Not falling asleep are we, princess?”

Your eyes shot open. “No. No, I’m…” the words croaked themselves out as you fought down a yawn, “I’m awake.” His low chuckle. “I called you didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Boba assented. Quiet amusement colored his accent. “And you called because…”

“I wanted to,” you said simply, without room for teasing. You were too sleepy to be ashamed of admitting you sought out his company, as foolish as doing so was. No use in hiding what both parties knew to be true.

He let out a noise of soft approval and it rumbled a pleasant sunburst between your ears. “You seem to want a lot of things, don’t you?”

Makes me want… want…

Want what, Princess?

Want you.

You can have me.

The memory snaked a fever flush down your neck, over the still-tender skin and lightly mottled marks. Boba was remembering it just as well as you were. You knew he was.

It gave you a rush, a weird sort of power trip. Because as stupid as you felt doing this, wanting this, he wanted it too. Enough to let your hands thread through his hair and around his arms, then to the scar above his left brow and across his mouth. Enough to let you do it again at the risk of being caught. Enough to leave you his tracking number, like you were two teenagers trading love letters and not legal adults with judgement better enough to do otherwise.

You stayed on the comm for two hours, and only went to sleep because Boba threatened to cut your link off if you didn’t.

⫸———————————————— ⫷

It had been almost five standard months since the first time you’d spoken. Typed words continued to be exchanged under your covers, day after day, night after night. Sometimes you’d fall asleep talking, peppering him with questions about his ship and his job until your throat ached with the effort of keeping yourself awake. Sometimes you did more than talk.

He never fell asleep. Never seemed to sleep, period.

What a strange man. Strange, dangerous, interesting man.

You often missed each other by a hair’s breadth. Courtly flurry and galactic bounty hunting didn’t make much space for private conversation. Boba was still taciturn. You were still naive.

And yet…

You liked him. He listened when you talked about botany and painting, neither of which you imagined interested him. He was arrogant and cocky and insufferable sometimes, but he listened. He told you about his job and regaled your sheltered curiosity with lurid, gory details. He told you about his father.

And one day he somehow, miraculously, had a set of Nabooan watercolors left for you in the garden.

Biting down a juvenile grin with every new message, you watched the quiet ping! of the datapad.

Hello

are you busy?

In a way

how so

Had a brush with Hutt’s rancor

poor thing

Don’t get soft on me now

wasn’t talking about you

Very funny

I’m very, very sorry

Should be. The bastard nearly tore up my flight suit

… show me?

⫸———————————————— ⫷

BF-18378-3263827 HAS ATTACHED 3 FILES

⫸———————————————— ⫷

HOLOCALL DURATION: 02:45:35 HOURS

SAVE CALL RECORDING? PRESS YES/NO TO CONFIRM

Your damp hands tremored.

YES

⫸———————————————— ⫷

Six months, four days, and 20 hours. That’s how long it took for you to see Boba Fett again.

You’d started to think the entire ordeal was a mirage, an illusionary experience your brain conjured up for you as a one-time brush with what your life could have been. Who it could’ve been with.

But you did see him again. Foolhardy, reckless, and unplanned.

You didn’t listen to his explanation about having to leave in the morning, taking some third-rate bounty as an excuse to come back to Quas Killam for the first time in what seemed like ages—practically eons since his mouth had last been at your neck. He appeared on your bedroom balcony near midnight like an apparition, mounted by a still-burning jetpack that shut off with an arc of smoke.

You’d been sleeping, albeit fitfully, and woke the minute his knuckles rapped against the glass. You didn’t remember ever telling him where your bedchambers were, but given… everything… you couldn’t say you were surprised he knew. When he crouched down to shed the helmet, it made a soft thump on the plush carpet.

And then you kissed. And kissed. And kissed.

Boba’s fingertips dragged fire across your prickled skin with every pass. Whose breathing was whose didn’t matter. It was hard, heaving, and shared. Eyes closed, lips raw, every part of you dizzy. Dizzy.

The sneeze that left you was loud enough to knock his forehead against yours. Hard.

Feet stumbling until your legs hit the bedspread, you let your weakened knees carry you down into a sitting position atop the covers and tried to catch your breath. Boba only chuckled, seemingly unperturbed by the mild injury.

Of course your body had picked today to come down with a cold. And of course you’d forgotten to tell him.

In your defense (you seemed to do a lot of self-defending these days) you didn’t know Boba would be coming tonight. When you asked him a week ago—the last time you’d spoken—he’d said “soon.” Whatever “soon” meant, you hadn’t anticipated it being now. Your rumpled nightgown and deteriorating personal hygiene was evidence enough of that.

The day had passed in fitful naps, with you waving away all attempts at help until the servants who usually tittered about decided to give you a wide berth until tomorrow. They’d left the door locked and your curtains drawn, thank the gods.

“A hello would’ve been nice,” you mumbled. The lingering taste of him in your mouth mixed with the bitter medicine that you’d forced down a few hours ago.

Boba didn’t answer at first, only stalking forward with his silhouette glowing in light of the full moon. You brought your knees up to your chest to make room for him to stand in front of you. Every movement was bathed in slowness, in the reverence of caution and night-time silence.

His gloved hand brushed against your chin and tilted it upwards, thumb rubbing a small circle into your jawbone as he moved your face in one large grip. Left, inspecting a swollen mouth and puffy eyes, then right. Up to see the column of your exposed neck. Down to meet his bare, dark face.

He kissed you again, more gentle this time. “Hello.”

A soft whimper left your throat.

Oh, you hated it. Hated the way you sounded when he touched you, small and pathetic. Needy.

The balustrade doors were still open, and this fact was made known by a particularly biting gust of silver wind.

“You’re cold,” the man standing close to you noted with a deep downquirk of his mouth. Boba never had to conceal anything; his helmet did that for him. But when it was off, every thought flickered past his face in evening technicolor.

Your hands paused in their run up your arms to hold petulantly at your elbows, covered only by the thin fabric of your shift. Goosebumps rose against your neck with a new breeze and you fought down the urge to shiver. “M’not.”

“And stubborn.”

You glared at him, but it held no real venom.

“I appreciate the concern,” you sniffled again and your body trembled slightly. “But I’m the picture of health. I really have never been—” here you sneezed rather violently, crumbling any remaining sense of composure and making the final words thick with congestion, “—any better.” Boba hooked two strong arms underneath your knees and around your shoulders. “Wh- what are you doing?”

“C’mon,” Boba grunted and lifted you to his chest in one swift, easy motion. “Up.”

“I’m already up,” you grumbled, a headache you’d thought was all but gone now throbbing from the quick movement. Armor pressed to your cheek and you let yourself go pliant, curling up into Boba’s broad chest. He smelled nice. Like the outdoors. The real outdoors—not manufactured gardens or stone courtyards. No, dangerous things. Like deserts and leather and guns.

You queried him as he walked in long strides across the room. “Where are you taking me? Should have you—” another sneeze burned your airways, “—have you arrested for treason. A high crime or misdemeanor of some sort, kidnapping royalty...”

He only scoffed, shifting your slack body into his one-armed grip when he arrived at the entrance of your adjunct refresher. The door opened with a soft click. “You talk too much.”

Your head rolled back to face him, pressed so close already that the attempt made you cross-eyed. “And you,” a polished finger jabbed lightly at his chest plate, “are up to no good.”

You were only joking, but Boba didn’t deny it.

Green was your favorite color, even before you met him. It was the color of gardens. Of mint leaves. Of insects and jewels. Of him.

Gods, he was beautiful. Did he know that? Would he ever believe you if you told him? He was achingly, painfully, humanly beautiful. It hurt like needles.

The man set you down to your immediate protests. Funny how quick you seemed to change your mind. “Don’t whine,” he chided when you did just that, pushing you forward by the small of your back.

You walked into the refresher confused, that same confusion compounding when Boba strode over to the marble bathtub in room’s center with a surety that belayed the fact he’d never once stepped foot inside here. Were all bounty hunters this self-assured? Or was he just so full of bathroom bravado that your sprawling floor-plan didn’t faze him?

Whatever the case was, said bounty hunter was now crouched down on the tile floor and twisting the tub faucets until they sprayed out a gush of hot water, quickly filling the room with heady steam.

“Hot water helps.” A still-gloved hand dipped an inch into the filling tub and deemed it acceptable. “The steam’ll clear up those sneezes of yours. And the headache.”

“How did you know I-” your mouth opened and closed before you realized you didn’t do a great job of hiding your symptoms. Maker knows you looked a sight, all mussed and tired and sticky with cold sweat. He should make a run for it now, you half-joked to yourself. He’s only ever seen me stuffed into a corset and done up half to death.

He got up with a grunt and turned back towards you. Beskar and durasteel and tactical fabric suddenly made you feel, for the first time in your life, underdressed. “‘S not hard to tell, princess.”

“Oh,” was your only response as you pushed off the sink counter, fisting the fabric of your nightgown in an unconscious display of hesitancy.

Boba’s heavy boots made for the door.

It was probably just to leave you some semblance of privacy, but you panicked, not wanting to be left alone now that he was finally here. “Wait!” you burst out, reaching a palm onto his shoulder before he could exit. “Wait. Can— can you stay?” Of course he won’t stay, you dolt. He probably came to sleep with you, not babysit you. “Please?”

Both of his hands curled into themselves when he turned back to you, their leather squeaking in the tight flex. Then, they released limp by his sides. Each word was carefully measured, slow-simmering like a pot about to boil over. Like a trigger finger twitchy on a blaster. “If you want me to.”

You answered with a bobbing nod and a swallow. “I do.”

⫸————————————————⫷

Boba Fett had long since forgotten he was a man. Instead, he was armor. He was a code, a set of strict (albeit grey) morals, the steadfast honor he’d been imbibed with from the years with his father and then the years of tearing emptiness after.

Bounty hunters had no time for attachments. They couldn’t afford to humor every batting eyelash with more than a self-serving flirtation, and he’d had his fill of those already. He’d overflowed his cup ten times over with shallow pleasantries and quick release.

But those days were long-gone. Had been for years now. Now he was practically puritanical.

Had been, anyway.

He didn’t like thinking of himself as impulsive, wanting to leave the trait behind in his younger years but not being old enough to shake it off completely. But he wasn’t impulsive anymore. He wasn’t.

You were going to destroy him.

Low-ranking royalty on some Imperial-occupied factory planet; sheltered and pretty. You had the brightest eyes he had ever seen and a temperament that took no prisoners, and you were going to destroy him.

Boba thought you’d make him leave, but you didn’t. You wanted him to stay and told him so.

So he stayed. His armor was peeled off in your presence for the first time— carefully placed on a chair in your bedroom—and he walked back into the refresher to see you untying your flimsy nightdress like it’d done you a personal wrong.

When it dropped beside your feet, it took every ounce of self-control Boba possessed to stop himself from eating you whole.

He heard you kick it to the floor (his eyes had since been very determinedly fixed on a fascinating piece of groutwork near his left foot) before you stepped into the bath, sighing in a way that made breathing a work harder than it should’ve been.

His looking away wasn’t a request on your part, you didn’t seem to mind either way, but he didn’t trust himself to do otherwise. Not until the sounds of splashing had subsided somewhat, signalling your stilled motion. “Boba?”

Now there was permission to walk. Look down. Right foot, left foot. Right foot, left foot. Right foot, the clawfoot of the bathtub. He had reached his destination.

A wet hand tugged at his belt loops and he finally allowed himself to look, meeting the sight of you sitting bare in the clear-blue water with legs pulled up to your chest. The arm not touching him was roped around your calves. Your chin rested on the wide, curved lip of the tub.

If Boba had any self-respect, it had been snuffed out the first moment you opened your mouth, six months ago in that cavernous palace hallway with your failed attempt at bravado. It was haughty, short-lived, and adorable.

Maker, you were beautiful. Did you know that? Would you ever believe him if you told you? You were blindingly, effervescently, humanly beautiful. It hurt like needles.

The position of your chin forced your lips into a slight pout. As if you needed another weapon in your arsenal of ways to make him question his judgement. “Could you bring me the tray on the counter?”

Of course he could. He could bring you anything you liked. He would bring you a rancor, a dozen rancors, a fucking sarlaac if it meant you would smile all soft-like the way you just did when he answered yes.

Boba Fett, mercenary feared farther than he would ever live to travel and hunter too expensive for the Imperial payroll, was now a bath attendant. It was torturous in its sensual irony.

The tray was brought over in short order, cluttered with tiny vials of Maker-knows-what and bars of who-knows-how. Individually they probably all smelled nice, but crowded together the heavy scents only made his head spin. He set the tray down on the floor with a rattle and held up each mystery soap for your inspection. No. No. No. No, not that one. Gods, you were picky. No. No. Yes, please.

You were Miss Manners tonight apparently.

“It’s floating archidia,” you told him, mind running through an endless backlog of plant indexes as he handed over the soap. You sounded clearer now, less congested and more alert. Needed to drink water, though. “The flower that this is made with, I mean. Native to the planet Nubia, rumored to have euphoric properties.” You snorted and ran a thumbnail along the bar’s waxy edge, bringing up a curled pink piece. “Whatever that means.”

“Do you think it does?”

“Have euphoric properties?” you hummed, considering it for a moment. “Maybe. But maybe it’s just wishful thinking.”

“Wishful thinking,” Boba parroted.

The meaning of words can change when they’re repeated. Neither of your minds were on flowers.

His jaw tensed when you reached your other hand to his forearm, baring the rest of your body to the dim orange of the refresher lights’ night settings. The water rippled, warm now instead of steaming, and your fingers curled around the scarred skin of his wrist. “Take off the gloves,” you echoed, your voice suddenly desperate and distant as you traced over pale leather seams. “Please.”

He had refused the first time simply to toy with you. You weren’t used to being told no, and it showed. But he let you take off his helmet in a moment of thoughtless self-indulgence, scratching the part of his subconscious that itched to be touched, stroked, held. Shedding the helmet in front of someone else didn’t really mean anything in an honorable sense—at least not to Boba. Nothing tied him to the habit except a desire to keep himself and his motivations unknown. It was easier that way. Less messy.

He acquiesced. "Since you asked so nicely."

Wrinkling your nose, you guided newly-bare palms to knead gently at your shoulder blades. The skin there was soft and warm, pliant under his sandpaper touch. "Keep mentioning it and I'll go back to being difficult."

The soap made foamy bubbles across your back, over your arms and the velvet slope of your hips. Fingertips ghosted through the space between your jaw and ear, where he remembered sucking in a soft bruise.

He liked being known by you.

⫸————————————————⫷

You clambered out the tub with all the grace of a baby krugga deer and about as much shame. Which is to say, none at all. The subsiding cold had left you tired, bones like jelly and mind sloshing its thoughts around with no real order. Boba was here. Had stayed. Was standing in front of you now, watching tiny water droplets trail down your feet and letting you balance on his arm to keep you from stumbling.

A towel was wrapped around your shoulders. The press of his hot mouth against your forehead followed close behind. “Go sit on the bed.”

For some reason, you didn’t mind listening to him this time. Chalk it up to moldable exhaustion, you thought. Definitely not the fact that his voice sounded especially nice tonight, or any number of other questionable reasons.

He was going to ruin you. Or you would ruin yourself. Any way it was construed, Boba would play a part.

Still only in a towel, you drank the stale tea that sat on your bedside table and watched in mild interest as the mercenary’s shadow emptied out tepid bathwater with the thick glugluglug of the drain. It washed down soap and all your shared secrets.

Was it wrong that you still wanted him? More, now that he’d done this for you? Now that it wasn’t just cruel kisses and groping hands? What sort of a person did that make you?

Your mind whispered it when Boba walked back towards you. Someone lonely.

He helped you slide a new chemise on when you asked him to, quick and steady over the thin linen ties. I bet you do that with all the girls, you’d teased. No, he answered simply. Just you.

He was going to ruin you.

“Do you have to go yet?” you asked quietly and climbed under the covers. They were green today. Life enjoyed coincidences like that.

Boba crouched down on the floor beside your lying figure and shook his head. A wide fingertip smoothed away the crease between your brows. He was doing lots of touching. You were not complaining. “Not ‘til morning.”

“You might as well then,” you mumbled and lifted up the embroidered blankets with a sleep-slack hand. “No one’ll bother us, I promise.” you answered the empty air, too heartsick to comprehend any possible insinuations and too tired to realize the fingers tracing your brow bone had paused. “I told them all not to come back until tomorrow.”

His shirt and pants were shed in an unceremonious pile. You were already half-asleep when he climbed into the other side of the bed, slotting his legs against yours like puzzle pieces. Two question marks curled into each other, his chest to your back and his lips brushing your head.

“Goodnight, princess.”

⫸————————————————⫷

You were dreaming about him.

He was the burning sun that every single one of your thoughts had orbited around for the last six months and now he was invading your subconscious, dream-talons taking the form of dark hands rubbing soft circles against you and then invading your open mouth.

In your dream, Boba touched you softly and not at all, a tease even in your self-serving imagination.

Then you woke up, and it wasn’t a dream anymore.

Two thick arms encircled your waist with a grip unyielding in their strength. They’d pulled you impossibly close, pressed up against his sleeping body until every ridge of his muscled stomach could be felt against your back. Something else was against your back.

Your head reeled in its effort to sludge through the fog of sleep and reach the reality of masculine hips. They shifted in an unintentional grind against your legs until you couldn’t bite back the gasp that bubbled out from your voicebox, the sound quiet, keening, and lost in the shuffled sounds of fabric. It was still dark out. The water-clock in the corner of your room read 01:25:02.

You hadn’t put on anything underneath the new chemise. Why bother, when he’d already seen everything? Your body had grown to be a thing for display, a clothes-hanger and object to be prodded by strangers, and you’d long since rid yourself of any precocious modesty.

But this was different.

When Boba touched you, it wasn’t to sew flowers in your hair or drape a sash over your chest. It was simply to touch. The thought made you light-headed with newfound embarrassment, wiggling in his grip until you turned to face his sleeping form.

All the heavy things he carried on his shoulders during the day were gone now. His bottom lip pillowed out when he slept and he looked younger, the perpetual downturn of his lips now settled below the black hair at his temples. You felt a sticky sort of fondness settle in your chest.

“Boba,” you whispered, two hands placing themselves on his tanned cheeks. They traced the divots of scars and premature lines with all the reverence of worshipfulness.

“Mmm,” his voice rumbled with eyes still closed. A warm mouth kissed the side of your palm.

“Boba,” you repeated, more desperate this time but not knowing what you were desperate for. The space between your legs already knew what it wanted, hot and pulsing with a familiar dampness. Traitor.

“What do you need?” The question wasn’t accusatory, nor annoyed at your waking him. It was known that he would give you whatever you liked. Eventually.

You. Just you.

“I don’t,” you huffed, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to your now overheated body as you squirmed, “I don’t know.” Lie.

“Think about it and tell me,” he whispered, eyes opening in their dark, heavy-lidded expectation. The moon and stars suspended outside offered light enough to see the smirk on his face. His skin was the color of burnt earth and of gods. Somewhere, far away in the canopy of carefully pruned trees, a single lark let out its warbled cry.

There was an old adage about being like a lamb to the slaughter. You’d never touched a lamb. Never seen a slaughter. But somehow, you knew it was true.

This lamb, dumb and tender-hearted, was willingly sacrificied.

"I...'' the word left you in the arc of your exhale, one whoosh of air that rattled your chest already wracked with fevered tremors. "I- want you to-"

"You want me to what, pretty thing?" His voice was low, dangerous. It made every part of you want him more. "Say it."

You weren't used to cursing. It was never tolerated and you barely ever heard it, but you'd learned enough to know what he wanted you to say. Which word he wanted to hear, and what it'd mean he would do.

"F-fuck. Me." you choked out, biting your lip to muffle the embarrassment of having to speak it out loud. The word was filthy and raw between your teeth. "Please?"

⫸————————————————⫷

You were dying. Possibly had already died. Were ascending up or barrelling down, you didn’t care as long as his wet mouth stayed between your legs and never, ever stopped.

Wide hands cupped at your skin and kneaded wherever they could reach, simultaneously rough and supplicating. Every pass of his tongue was enough to make you feel possessed. He was killing you.

“Good. Good girl.” he said against your swollen skin when your hips arced off the bed, your spine and toes stiffening for what seemed like an eternity during the damp lightning finish. It sounded like a growl, animalistic and vibrating. A burning, sweet hurt.

Some people call it “little death,” a lady’s maid once whispered underneath her hand in a giggle. “Little death?” you repeated incredulously. That seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think?

You understood now.

Boba didn’t let up, never once letting his touch waver even as you buckled and swayed, all sense lost and all sensation compacting. “Another,” he ordered. Your body listened, bending to his touch without complaint with eyes rolled back into your head.

You were dying.

⫸————————————————⫷

Boba let you lay against him in the downturn, rubbing mindless shapes into the bone of your wrists as you struggled to breathe. Your neck was cradled in one of his broad, bronze palms. It gave one tiny, imperceptible squeeze. An accident. A test.

You pawed at the hand resting heavy on your nape until it moved to leave completely, but was caught instead by your fingers and guided—slow and curious—to cup at your bared throat.

“Dirty,” the man noted in a dark rasp and rolled over to face you. There was a slight smirk in his voice, but that could’ve just been your imagination.

“I don’t see you...” your voice trailed off into a wheeze as Boba’s thick fingers pressed into the sides of your neck, “—see you complaining.”

He kissed you. And kissed you. And kissed you. An eternity was spent opening the seam of your mouth while he choked you softly, baring your pulsating soul with only your bedroom walls as witness to the present depravity. The air was filled with begging and grunting—simple noises that stuttered and left your sheets ruined.

You wanted more. You couldn’t help it.

His chuckle morphed into a groan when you reached down to touch him with widening eyes, squeezing him curiously after pulling down his boxers. “You’re a brave little thing,” Boba noted with a hint of greedy pride. “Never done this before, have you?”

Your own hands served as poor substitutes all these years. You shook your head no.

“D’you want to?”

Of course you did. This was the only thing you wanted. The only thing you would ever want, over and over until your body turned to dust under him. A million grains of fizzy, burning blaster powder. A million comets passing by a supernova.

You nodded and tucked your face into the space between Boba’s shoulder and neck, rolling onto your side and hooking a leg over his hip. Your chests met, damp with sweat as cool air flowed over bare skin. The covers had long since been pushed aside. “Safe,” you said in a heady moan over the shell of his ear. “Implant.”

Thank goodness for modern medicine.

⫸————————————————⫷

It hurt a little at first, but most of the discomfort melted away as he whispered to you, sweet and cloying praises alongside filthy things that you’d be hard-pressed to repeat in public. They wove together in an endless stream of baritone vowels, lapping over each other like ocean waves until everything was a gyrating, syrupy playback.

He let you move against him, mouth open and sloppy against your temple when you whined at the stretch. The hands at your back didn’t push. Only placated. “I know, I know,” Boba assured you with fingers rubbing sympathetic desire into your flesh. It would bruise, but you’d come to like the marks. Your hips bucked at their own accord when he pressed up against something tight, the friction burning a bright, numb spark. “Slow down,” he mumbled into your hair, “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Never in your life did you think this was how it would be. Your first kiss, more of a battle than it was a kiss, served as fuel for the expectations of your first time. Never in your life did you think he would be the one telling you to go slow.

It was for your sake, you knew that. But it was still surprising.

You huffed and bit the shell of his ear in childish revenge, blowing a puff of air where you knew it would tickle. Boba only growled and tightened his arms around your waist, rocking into you slow and deep. “Don’t tease,” he warned.

The new movements robbed you of the ability to speak until all you could do in response was lift your head from where it had rested on his shoulder, meeting impossibly dark eyes in lust-addled vision as a building pressure colored the entire world in shades of black, red, and green.

In a moment of complete and utter lack of propriety, you leaned forward, smiling like a woman deranged, and pressed a kiss to his nose.

Boba came undone the same minute you did. It was a rush of wet, rocking pleasure, spreading like thick webs of lighted fire from inside your blood and out to fill the room with quiet devotion. Panting, bursting, close, messy. You’d never felt so whole.

Your foreheads met and you went cross-eyed trying to look at him again. That’s all you wanted to do. Look at him. Uttered underneath his jaw, where the skin was smooth, was your finishing admission. “I love you.”

You didn’t say it to hear it repeated. It was just to give it a shape. Make it concrete. Said more to yourself than him, really.

But Boba did repeat it. Over and over and over. In the tangle of your arms. I love you. In the kiss to your breasts. I love you. In the towel brought between your legs. I love you. In the settled silence of new sleep. I love you, I love you, I love you.

⫸————————————————⫷

The watery light of dawn melted through heavy curtains and you awoke, body weighed down with lead and gold. Sweet soreness had made its home in your muscles and you were loath to get up, but the man you’d been using as a pillow had very rudely left his post.

“I have to go,” he said, already awake and standing sentry by your bed. You raised your head up from the pillows in groggy protest to meet his blurry figure. If you squinted, there were three of him standing there at once.

A shake of your head rid your vision of the doubles, leaving the lone man. He kissed you—quick and dirty, with tongue—and squeezed your exposed breast, prompting a low moan to tumble from your mouth before he slipped his blaster into the holster at his hip. It wasn’t even 6 in the morning and you were thoroughly debauched. What a scandal, you thought (not for the first time) with passing amusement. A bounty hunter and a princess.

Watching in a dim haze as Boba finished strapping on his amor, you tracked the reflection of the sun in the metal’s lazy movement.

He leaned over you. “I’ll be back soon.” Soon. What did soon mean? Another kiss, slow and careful on the bow of your mouth. One more on the slope of your forehead. For luck, you supposed. Whether it was for you or him didn’t matter much. “Promise.”

Slowly, as he climbed out onto your balcony and was gone with a flash of jetpack light, you wondered if it was a mirage; a dream, maybe. The entire night a hallucinatory haze, a figment of your overactive imagination and reckless romanticism.

But the towel left discarded on the floor and the pulsing ache between your legs was very, very real.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett/reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x you #boba fett fic #boba fett oneshot #boba fett imagine

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giggles-and-freckles · 3 years

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my fic masterlist

decided to do this for my own sake more than anyone else’s because sometimes I have to make sure the idea I get at 3am isn’t one I’ve already written hehe. anyway, a lot of these are on my ao3, but I’m also going to try and track down some of my TuMbLr-eXcLuSiVe fics, too. I’ll update this as often as I remember (so, uhhh–)

In-Progress: Not On A Consistent Updating Schedule Bc Abi is a Mess ™

midst of the mind – Anakin has always had a pretty good understanding of his feelings, even if he's not particularly disciplined in acting on them. But things surrounding the Chancellor seem to be off and Anakin's determined to get to the bottom of it. With a little help from his friends.(or: fix-it ROTS fic where Ani, Obi, and Padmé take down the Chancellor one fake smile and late-night tea party at a time)

evermore – "dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found" within the lives of our favourite space fam. (or: TAYLOR SWIFT LITERALLY OWNS MY SOUL, OKAY?) (unrelated one-shots based on taylor swift songs ha)

filling the gaps – after the horror of Naboo, Obi-Wan has flipped from Padawan to having a Padawan in a matter of hours and he's not sure how much longer he can pretend like he's okay. thankfully, this one spunky youngling who keeps popping up in the corners of his life seems to know what to do. (or: baby!Soka unknowingly helps new Knight!Kenobi figure things out and braids his hair along the way)

Obi-Wan & Ahsoka: Best Father-Daughter Duo In The Galaxy According To Me (because let’s be honest...that’s why I’m here) (tagged: #obi & soka)

filling the gaps – *in-progress multi-chapter* after the horror of Naboo, Obi-Wan has flipped from Padawan to having a Padawan in a matter of hours and he's not sure how much longer he can pretend like he's okay. thankfully, this one spunky youngling who keeps popping up in the corners of his life seems to know what to do. (or: baby!Soka unknowingly helps new Knight!Kenobi figure things out and braids his hair along the way)

playing catch – Ahsoka finds an old friend on Tatooine and has lots of questions. they cry a lot. obi-wan tells some white lies. they get the hugs they need. (Obi-Wan & Ahsoka reunite on Tatooine)

all too young – during a bout of insomnia while on Onderon, Ahsoka gets some advice and insight about her Master. (or Obi-Wan hears Ahsoka laugh for the first time and they get to have a snuggle and he absolutely spends the entire next day training the rebels trying not to cry thinking about it every dang time he sees her.)

hologram heart-to-hearts – we see Obi-Wan and Ahsoka have a conversation via hologram in the final season of tcw, but what if there had been...more?(three-parter) (basically Obi and Soka keep in touch after she leaves the Order and there’s...a lot of emotions involved)

little love – a sort of follow-up to hologram heart-to hearts; Ahsoka sticks her nose into the wrong Alliance meeting and discovers a certain Jedi is alive and on Tatooine of all places, so she places a long-distance call.

bad days – Ahsoka tries to squeeze out of her Grand Master exactly what happened on Mortis. and, as always, Obi-Wan is powerless to deny her anything, no matter how painful that truth may be.

sleeping with monsters – Ahsoka is having a hard time sleeping after her time on Felucia, so Obi-Wan offers a solution.

chance meeting – Obi-Wan is up late researching for his Master in the archives when a certain sneeze–and pair of big blue eyes–catch his attention.

‘drooping eyelids’ prompt fill – Ahsoka and Obi-Wan have a conversation about attachment while Anakin’s missing. they (plus Anakin) get some platonic cuddles.

‘dancing’ prompt fill – they attend a senatorial gala without Anakin because he’s feeling grumpy grump after deception arc fall-out. Obi realises that there are still things to be thankful for.

sorrow – Ahsoka feels the full weight of loss as she clutches her Grand Master’s dead body. (deception arc FEELS!!!!)

‘I do not pretend to set people right, but I do see they are often wrong’ prompt fill – *trigger warning: death of children; Obi comforts Ahsoka after they witness an atrocity of the highest order.

the silence between — Ahsoka gets assigned to the 212th as her Master recovers. Unwanted quality time with her Grand Master doesn’t go as planned.

untitled ‘Obi & Ani role reversal au’ ficlet — Padawan Obi-Wan pays a visit to his best pal Ahsoka in the crèche.

‘falling asleep on each other’s shoulder’ prompt fill – the summary says it all. fluff!

'I don’t wanna die’ – Obi-Wan comforts Ahsoka in her pain. *tw: implied major character death

‘I made tea’ – Anakin is off-world so it’s up to Obi-Wan to take care of his sick grand-padawan.

sorry for the soup – post-deception arc. Ahsoka stops by Obi-Wan’s quarters to check-in.

Obi-Wan & Anakin: The Early Years (tagged: #obi & ani)

figuring it out – Anakin learns waking Obi-Wan up can sometimes be a good thing and Obi-Wan learns that maybe everything's going to be okay. (padawan!ani & new dad knight!kenobi)

if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more – Anakin overhears a conversation he wasn’t meant to hear and lashes out in response. lots of hurt is uncovered and Obi-Wan hears some hard truths from his Padawan. angst, angst, angst...but with a hug.

reading lessons – the team takes a trip to the archives to find some reading material. Anakin is adorably insecure.

cold – Obi-Wan and Anakin have their first solo mission, but in typical Kenobi & Skywalker fashion, it does not go as planned. Exasperated Obi-Wan and Won't-Shut-Up Anakin are put to the test by deep space and a completely out-of-fuel ship. (or some more fluff where padawan!ani and new knight!kenobi get to try and figure out how the heck this master-padawan thing WORKS. hint: it's not easy!)

playing hooky – angel baby Anakin breaks Obi-Wan's heart and it's not for the last time...womp wooooomp.

like you – sweet, angel baby Ani gives himself a haircut and Obi-Wan deals with the aftermath. (I’m copying and pasting most of these summaries directly from ao3 and cracking up because I called Anakin a sweet angel baby in two in a ROW hahah)

fun? – the Jedi Council gives Obi-Wan his newest orders as a young Jedi Knight and he struggles to understand them. he was instructed to take his new Padawan and...have...fun?

go away/please stay – Obi-Wan has been disappearing for solo missions more and more often and Anakin's starting to wonder if it's more than just on request of the Council. (or: can you say TEEN ANGST!)

‘forehead kisses’ prompt fill – Anakin stumbles upon his Master having quite the nightmare, so he handles it the way his mom always handled his own nightmares. with patience and affection.

unnamed NAP TIME fic – Obi-Wan gets home from a solo mission early to find his bed occupied.

‘sweets’ prompt fill – Anakin gets a little ambitious with his choco-ball indulgence.

‘fuzzy socks’ prompt fill – years after arriving at the Temple, Anakin still hasn’t quite adjusted to the cold. Obi-Wan gets him a gift to help. (really just an excuse for some obi ani banter)

‘snowball fight’ prompt fill – Anakin takes his boredom to the next level, much to his Master’s chagrin.

untitled Anakin sickfic bc I’m not feeling very creative right now – the team goes on a mission but Anakin gets sick. Obi-Wan is ultimate mother hen and Anakin makes an observation.

got germs – sickficlet where both of our best boys are sick.

you’re okay – just some classic protective parent!Obi-Wan and teenaged son!Anakin post disaster.

‘you lied to me’ – angstpril day 13. Anakin really wants to go to Ilum and make his lightsaber...but is met with disappointment.

random sickfic – because we all know Anakin is the most annoying sick person in the world.

don’t struggle – the ship is crashing, as usual. but this time, Anakin’s seatbelt is stuck. *tw: implied major character deaths

relic – sith!Obi au. *tw: major character death

aspectabund – Anakin’s eyes betray him and his Master.

Obi-Wan & Anakin: Brotp But Also Idiots Who Don’t Know How To Communicate (still tagged #obi & ani)

define ‘attachment’ – while the dads esteemed Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker wait for Ahsoka to wake up, they talk about attachment, worry, and that time Ani caused an accidental security breech at the Temple.

favourites – Obi-Wan has been tasked with telling Anakin of his special assignment to keep an eye on the Chancellor, but he gets sappy and sentimental in the process because these conversations are hard.

after all these years – Obi-Wan tries to talk to Anakin, but it doesn't go well. does this sound familiar OR WHAT? (post-decpetion arc angst)

brilliant – Anakin is having a difficult time adjusting to his new mechno-arm for one very specific reason. (the boys communicate properly in this one and even get a hug as a treat!)

sober words said aloud – Anakin's meeting with the Council is interrupted by his highly intoxicated–and wildly affectionate–Master. (crack fic turned fluff)

‘you’ve been crying, I can tell’ prompt fill – Anakin makes the mistake of checking in on his Master after a particularly grueling mission. it doesn’t go well. (or: Obi-Wan loses his sh!t)

going somewhere? – Obi-Wan catches Anakin on his way out for a midnight rendezvous with a certain Senator. Anakin makes a quick decision and chooses Obi-Wan. sweet words are exchanged on a sentimental walk.

shaking hands – in the immediate wake of Ahsoka’s departure form the order, Anakin...isn’t okay. Obi-Wan tries to do something about it. (post S5 angst)

untitled platonic tired cuddles/back scratching fic – Anakin resorts to an old tactic to make his Master rest.

sun shine on – Obi-Wan and Anakin take a little trip to Tatooine to visit Shmi’s grave. (post-ROTS fix-it au of sorts)

pushing it too far — Obi-Wan calls Anakin for some help when he takes ‘intel’ too seriously and ends up drunk on a street in lower-level Coruscant.

whump prompt fill – Obi-Wan looks after Anakin after a near-miss. They talk.

‘was it another premonition?’ – Obi-Wan dreams of Luke. He wakes up to Anakin.

post-mortis angst – Anakin remembers. *tw: implied suicidal thoughts

angstpril: ‘you have to let me go’ – Anakin and Obi-Wan are stuck in a pit. only one of them can make it out alive. *tw: implied major character death

role model – post-deception angst. Obi and Ani talk. it doesn’t go well.

here either way – conversations about mental health. *tw: panic attack

hiraeth – Obi-Wan walks alone. *post ROTS

Anakin & Ahsoka: Dream Team Sharing One Single Brain Cell (tagged: #snips & skyguy or (for the really angsty) #its crying about snips & skyguy hours)

that one person – (my first fic!) Anakin gets assigned to lecture a class of younglings, but he's not the only one who doesn't want to be there.or Ahsoka Tano is done with Jedi sh!t and tries to leave, but this time it's just a classroom and not the entire Order and there's a lot less tears and pain.

here and now – the Force has tried to swallow Ahsoka Tano three times. it's hard to be the last one standing. (or Ahsoka feels the death of three important men in her life and is tired of being left behind) *tw: major character deaths (canon compliant and not depicted, only mentioned)

whumptober: crying – Anakin comforts a distraught Ahsoka after her disaster mission over Ryloth.

reaching out – Anakin is always there...until he’s not. Ahsoka reflects on how different it is fighting and living without Anakin at her side. (angst)

help would come – Anakin and Ahsoka get stuck on an ice planet and things get dire. I chalked this full of parallels to the final conversation between Ani and Luke bc I love pain, I guess?

whump: ‘i’ve got you’ – Anakin pulls Ahsoka from a nightmare.

zen!Anakin ficlet — Ahsoka visits Anakin in his new job as Galaxy’s #1 Dad (well Plo Koon still exists so maybe #1.5?).

right as rain – Ahsoka insists she is fine when she is distinctly not.

snoozeville – Anakin and a few boys of the 501st find their Commander catching some extra z’s.

stitching up – Ahsoka performs some in-the-moment surgery for Anakin and he tries not to scream. *tw: field surgery

‘platonic spooning’ prompt fill – do I need a summary after that?

sad hours: dancing – Anakin and Ahsoka dance in the aftermath of tragedy.

rainy ending given to a perfect day – Anakin and Ahsoka take a trip into downtown Coruscant.

Anakin and Padmé: Abi Tries and fails To Write Romance (tagged: #anidala)

not enough – Anakin has a hard time with the Mortis fall-out. Padmé doesn’t know how to help someone who doesn’t want it. some painful connections between Ahsoka and Shmi are made. (angst, no happy ending, trouble in paradise)

I will not have this baby in a jail cell – some fluff, some crack, some Anakin-being-so-proud-of-his-badass-wife.

marcid – domestic fluff in which Padmé almost shoots him. ha. oops!

rubatosis – angsty anidala hours. Anakin can’t go to sleep.

Obi-Wan and Satine: Abi Tries and fails some more To Write Romance (tagged #obitine)

don’t go – Obi-Wan makes a choice. *year on the run timeline

that’s mine – some happiness AU obitine. waking up next to each other. laughing. all the sappy stuff.

accidental keldabe kiss – all the ridiculous tropes I love with our favourite pining idiots. it’s the ‘kiss me so they don’t see us!’ trope!!!! *year on the run timeline

you’re shaking – Satine knows Obi-Wan more than he’d like. *year on the run

Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Rex, Padmé: Space Found Family In Whatever Form It Comes

i want your midnights – the gang attends a New Year's banquet (read: party) and Padmé surprises them all with her midnight kiss.

flair for dramatics – when the gang gets their ship stranded on a desert planet, Anakin and Ahsoka get creative as they try to keep spirits up and minds off the sweltering heat. Obi-Wan questions his sanity. (crack fic turned fluff)

nothing a cup of tea can’t fix – when Anakin shows up to Obi-Wan's quarters in the middle of the night, the Jedi Master knows something has gone awry. answering Anakin's desperate cry for help, Obi-Wan is reminded of how very, very prone to dramatics his former Padawan and Grand Padawan are. (or: Ahsoka gets sick and Anakin flips his shit.) (sickfic)

in the sandstorm – when Tatooine's weather takes a turn for the worst, Ben Kenobi finds a young boy in need of shelter and some lessons on how wonderful his dad had been. (luke and obi-wan hurt/comfort)

remembering hurts – Rex and Ahsoka strive to survive on the snowy moon in the days after Order 66. tensions are high and emotions are volatile.

balter – disaster trio dances at a senatorial ball.

reunion – au where Anakin doesn’t completely turn to the dark side but everything up to and including Mustafar (except for the last like...five minutes) happens. Padmé has the twins, Obi-Wan is overwhelmed, Anakin is a mess. they’re happy...or at least, they will be soon.

‘cookies’ prompt fill – disaster trio makes cookies for the crechelings for Life Day. (just fluff and banter)

first ever codywan! – Cody does some bedside vigil for a hurt Obi-Wan. :’)

transponster – disaster trio is tired and delusional. Rex and Cody want Jedi to have some kriffing self-preservation.

one final salute — Obi-Wan and Cody get trapped. Obi-Wan’s luck is running out. (angst? angst.)

codywan whump – Cody saves Obi-Wan’s life. again. (more fluff than whump)

girls’ night – Ahsoka hangs out with her mom pal Padmé.

driving lessons – Obi-Wan and Anakin teach Ahsoka to drive. ha.

affectionate obi – the kids get Obi-Wan a puppy. fluff!

sorry I don’t speak idiot – Rex and Fives deal with a drunk Echo :’)

post deception disaster trio sadness – Ahsoka tries to keep Obi-Wan company in the aftermath of Rako Hardeen...but Anakin isn’t playing nice.

verklempt – Ahsoka and Yoda talk about being chosen. and Ahsoka finds out maybe she hasn’t been left behind afterall. *pre-TCW

apricity – disaster trio have a picnic at the temple! just pure fluff.

pyrrhic – codywan but make it angsty. some battles are won at too great a cost.

disaster trio sickfic – two Jedi dads and their (sick) daughter :’)

‘you’ve been here this whole time?’ – newlyweds anidala (but shh, Obi-Wan doesn’t know that! yes he does, everyone does.) are there when Obi-Wan wakes up and he ownders just what he did to get so lucky.

Febuwhump 2021: A Foray into Hurting the Characters I Love the Most

mind control – Anakin’s narrative as he fights Ahsoka on Mortis. sad boy hours. a lot of insecurity happening here.

‘I can’t take this anymore’ – during the Obitine (plus third-wheel Qui-Gon) year on the run, Satine gets tired of Obi-Wan trying to die for her. a bit hurt/comfort, a lot sappy.

imprisonment – on their first mission together, Obi & Ani get captured. Anakin learns how Obi-Wan feels about tight spaces.

coma – post deception arc. Obi-Wan goes into a coma after a particularly intense conversation with Anakin. Anakin tells Obi’s unconscious body how he’s feeling. angst, angst, angst. there’s your warning.

‘take me instead’ – Anakin escorts Padmé on a diplomatic mission but things get dicey and quick decisions must be made. Anakin isn’t the only one in this relationship willing to be an idiot for the sake of *love.* (or: another attempt to write Anidala in a convincing way because they give me a tough! time! so this time make it...dangerous)

insomnia – Anakin overhears a late night holo-call and learns that his Master has a...friend that is a girl???? and is pretty???? but also that his Master may need some fixing and he thinks he may just be the nine-year-old for the job.

poisoning – Ahsoka gets drugged and Anakin gets...er...angry. (read: dark)

‘hey, hey, this is no time to sleep’ – as Ahsoka and Anakin wait for help, Anakin tells a story. an ancient monster in the heart of Tatooine...waiting for it's day of reckoning. (or: Ahsoka gets dehydrated and Anakin can't deny his hurting sister/padawan anything so he talks a little bit about home.)

buried alive – Anakin reflects on some things as his Padawan tries to rescue him from the rubble. angst!!!!!!!!!

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know’ – the Council loses a planet and Obi & Ani get tasked with finding it, but after nine hyperspace jumps and a painful discovery, Obi-Wan teaches his former Padawan one more lesson. (or: the boys talk about failure and feelings when Obi-Wan finds out Anakin's mechno-arm has been causing pain for a couple years)

hallucinations – Ahsoka tries to fix things. it doesn’t work. (post-order 66) angst

‘who are you?’ – Anakin and Ahsoka rescue Obi-Wan, but things aren’t okay and Obi-Wan doesn’t recognise Anakin. (or: Obi is tortured for information about the fall of the Republic before it happens and goes a bit mad bc of it)

‘I didn’t mean it’ – Obi-Wan learns how cold and unfeeling his young Padawan thinks he is and has a rough day. angst

burned – Anakin mourns the loss of his Padawan in a tactile way. Obi-Wan watches. (or: Anakin throws Ahsoka’s Padawan beads into a fire)

‘I wish I have never given you a chance’ – Obi-Wan is reminded of his own incompetence through a vision form his old master.

you have to let me go – Ahsoka has one heirloom: a hologram of her old master as a padawan. but it’s time to let the past go and step into the future, with help from an old friend.

#my fic #maybe I'll go give creative names to some of these prompt request fills someday but #probably not #anyway I definitely should have been doing things other than making this tonight but HERE WE ARE #:)#also at the time of me typing this I have 49 fics listed on here #which is so crazy to me #bc I just started writing in september and if you had told me I would have 50 fics in five months I would have laughed at you #and its so fun and cringey to look back at some of these #its only been a few months but my writing has CHANGED #(hopefully for the better?)#anyway yay! an organised archive!#sw fanfiction

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galactic-magick · 3 years

Text

Remember Me: Agnes/Agatha Harkness x Reader

Request: Ok so I have this idea for a wandavision fic. Agatha had a wife prior to westview, and the wife comes looking for her and gets zapped into the hex. The wife loses all memories prior to westview so when she sees Agnes for the first time she’s like head over heels in love with her all over again. Agnes of course absolutely recognizes her and remembers everything and decides to woo her wife into marrying her again. Of course shenanigans ensue. Also Agatha doesn’t want to just give her wife’s memories back cause she wants to protect her. I also think the wife’s personality is pretty opposite to Agnes’s, I see her as more quite and innocent, but still bubly and positive. I know this is a lot lol but I just think it would make a great fanfic!

Summary: You and Agatha have been married for years, but a rough fight causes you to take a break for a while. When you’re ready to try again you go looking for her, but accidentally get sucked into the hex in the process and lose all your memories.

Words: 3.6k+

Warnings: spoilers, some angst

Author’s Notes: This fic got pretty long cuz I just kinda ran with this amazing idea, hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @nyx-aira @midnight-lestrange @thestrangeundoing @dreamydanvers @sleep-deprived-athlete @dr-robotnik-said-hella @fallingfor-fics @p-nymph @thelanawinterrs @sunproud

You feel…lost.

It’s as if something was at the tip of your tongue, something extremely important was on your mind a few minutes ago, but you can’t think of it for the life of you.

You’ve always struggled with directions, so you know you probably took a wrong turn. You remember driving into a town called Westview, and you’re pretty sure you’re here now, but your mind feels fuzzy. You can’t recall anything that happened to you before driving here. Your body feels like it got ripped apart and put back together, if that’s even possible.

You try your best to shrug off your concerns, and you start to feel more and more at home here. You know what, you have been here your whole life. You grew up here, you have friends here, and you never want to leave.

Despite that, though, you have no idea where your house is. You drive around, searching for anything that looks familiar, to no avail.

You see a woman picking some flowers outside, so you pull over and get out to talk to her.

“Good afternoon!” you wave. “I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Y/N,”

“Hello!” she smiles. “I’m Wanda. Are you one of my neighbors?”

“Oh, um, yeah! I’m in the neighborhood,” you nod. “Those flowers are beautiful. Is there a special occasion?”

“Yes, actually! It’s me and my husband’s anniversary today! I’m planning a romantic evening to surprise him when he gets home. One of my other neighbors gave me some ideas and tips,” she laughs. “Oh there she is again!”

You turn around to look at the house next door, and see the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen in your life. There’s something familiar about her, like a distant memory. She waves at Wanda, but when she sees you she stares. She can’t take her eyes of you, like she’s seeing a ghost.

“Agnes! Come here a second!” Wanda calls her over. “This is Y/N, she also lives around here. Have you met?”

“Oh…”

She’s wearing a gorgeous yet simple plaid dress, and her smile is captivating. There’s a gleam in her eyes that’s magical, and you find yourself falling a little too hard for someone you just met. You’re not usually the type to lay your heart down so quickly, but something about her is different.

“Oh, no! I don’t think we have!” Agnes snaps out of her trance and shakes your hand. “I’m Agnes,”

“Y/N,”

“Lovely to meet you,” she momentarily turns her attention back to Wanda. “Now, is there anything else you need for tonight? Extra candles, more magazines, makeup?”

“Some more candles would be amazing, thank you,”

“Great, I’ll drop them off in a bit,” Agnes glances at you again. “Would you like me to walk you home, darlin?”

“Sure,” you start walking together down the sidewalk. “I’m sorry if this is weird, but I feel like I know you from somewhere,”

“Do you now?”

“Maybe you just have one of those faces,” you sigh. “Anyway, I honestly can’t remember where my house is. I’ve always been bad with directions,”

“Did you just move here recently?”

“Maybe?” you scratch your head. “I…think I’ve always been here, but maybe I left and came back. Is it weird that I can’t remember?”

“Not at all,” she smiles. “Is this it?”

You look, and there’s a house just a few down from Wanda’s that you can almost swear wasn’t there before. But it looks like home, it looks familiar.

“Yes! This is it!” you race up to the door, and find a key that fits perfectly in your pocket. “How’d you know this was mine?”

“I just had a feeling,” she says.

“Well, thank you very much,” you reply, about to close the door.

“Wait,”

“Hmm?”

“Would you like to get some ice cream tomorrow?”

You nod, a bit surprised she’s so interested in you, “Sure,”

You meet up again at the ice cream parlor the next day, and you’re shocked when you get there that Agnes has already ordered your favorite, and a couple scoops are in your grasp within a few minutes.

You sit down together and start eating it, “How’d you know this was my favorite?”

“Oh…um, you just seem like that kind of gal?” she takes a spoonful of her own.

When you’re both done, you take a walk around town, waving to other people you think you’ve seen in the neighborhood. It feels a little strange that you’re hanging out with Agnes for hours as if you’ve been friends for years, but at the same time it feels so right. It’s almost like she knows everything about you already, yet everything is still a mystery.

Later in the afternoon you attend the talent show together, and you find yourself laughing especially at Wanda and her husband Vision’s performance. Some of their tricks fool you enough into thinking they might be real, but how could they be? Magic is all just a trick on the eyes, isn’t it?

You say goodbye to everyone and turn in for the night, and you have a strange dream.

Agnes is there, but she looks different. Older? Younger? You’re not sure.

She smiles at you, and takes your face in her hands. She presses a kiss to your lips, and doesn’t let you go until you can’t breathe.

You continue to see snippets of you and her together, each time in a different place, maybe even a different era. You’re happy, it seems, the love is deep and strong, something so good you didn’t think it could exist.

Until the last one.

You’re yelling at each other, but you can’t make out the words, not even your own. You can almost feel tears streaming down your cheeks, and Agnes takes her bags and leaves. You fall on the couch, completely miserable. You can’t tell what happened, but the aching in your chest is enough to tell it was the worst thing you’ve ever experienced.

When you wake up the next morning, you don’t remember anything.

The world is now in color, but you honestly can’t recall what it looked like yesterday, so it doesn’t seem strange to you.

You get a call from Wanda telling you she’s pregnant, and you congratulate her excitedly. She asks you to keep it under wraps except for close friends, which makes sense since it’s so early on.

Even though you have plenty of time before the baby arrives, you decide to go out to the store and pick out some stuff you could give her. You’ve never had children of your own so you’re not sure exactly what she’d need, but you know the basics, like clothes, teething toys, and blankets.

You look through the racks and piles, picking out a few things you think would be cute.

“Don’t tell me you’re pregnant now too, hun,”

You jump, and you see Agnes behind you.

“Oh! Agnes, hi!” you exhale quickly. “No, no, I’m not. I’m just picking up some things for Wanda. Maybe we could plan her a little baby shower or something?”

“I’m just kidding, hun. And that’s a great idea!” she pushes her cart forward a bit. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

You nod as she hurries away.

As you’re walking home, you see Agnes chatting with one of your other neighbors, Herb. You don’t particularly hear or care what they’re saying, but you stop in your tracks when you see something purple coming out of Agnes’s fingers.

Herb’s eyes roll back for a moment, and then they carry back on in conversation. After a few minutes Vision runs out of the house and talks to them a bit, then they all go their separate ways.

Maybe you were just seeing things, but something about that interaction was really weird.

You catch up with Agnes down the street, saying hello and asking how she is. She doesn’t seem to know you saw what happened, so you decide to ask yourself.

“What was that purple stuff coming out of your hands?”

“What?” she chuckles, scoffing as if you’re crazy. “What are you talking about?”

“I was walking by Wanda’s house earlier and I saw you talking to Herb, and there was something coming out of your hands. Maybe it was just weird light or reflections or something-“

“Oh, yes, that must be it,” she pats your shoulder. “Say, how about we grab some dinner or something?”

“Really?”

She raises a hand and strokes your head and hair, and it feels like a wave of calm rushes over you. She murmurs some words you can’t understand, and you forget what you were going to say.

“What was that for?” you giggle, cheeks flushing a bit at her tender touch.

“Oh, there was just something stuck in your hair, dear,”

“Agnes,” you say, after taking the last bite of your dinner. You’ve had a wonderful night, you don’t think you’ve smiled and laughed so much in your life, and she makes your heart feel like it’s transcending to peak happiness.

“Hmm?”

“I really love hanging out with you,” you’re too nervous to say the actual words you want to say, and you desperately hope she understands.

“I love hanging out with you too,” she reaches for your hand. “I’ve missed you,”

You cock your head, “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” she laughs. “It’s just…been awhile since I’ve had someone in my life that I care about so much,”

You sigh as she squeezes your hand, “Do you believe in soulmates?”

“I might,” she grins. “Why?”

“I just…I know it’s so weird, but I feel like there’s something between us that’s beyond our control, you know?” you talk fast, hoping getting all the words out quickly will help you to say what you’ve wanted to say since you first met. “Maybe we were together in another life, another universe, I don’t know, it’s just…it’s not just me, right?”

She shakes her head, and you can almost see a tear in her eye, “No, it’s not just you,” she kisses the palm of your hand. “I wish I could tell you everything, I really do,”

“What do you mean?”

“But I can’t,” she stands up and waves her hand in front of your face, all memories of your conversation slipping from your mind. “It’s for your own protection sweetheart, I promise. Once I figure out how all this is happening, we can be together again,”

Agnes walks you home that night, but you don’t want to leave. You’ve had such a wonderful time with her, and you can’t bear for it to end.

“Do you want to come inside?” you ask.

“Oh, honey, I don’t think I should,” she laughs.

“Please,” you beg. “Just for a little bit? I have some tea and cookies,”

“Alright,” she sighs. “Just for a little bit,”

You start boiling the water and arrange some cookies on a plate as Agnes sits down on the couch.

“What kind would you like?”

“I’ll take anything,” she says.

You return with a cup and plate for her and plop down on the cushion, “You know I should probably apologize,”

“For what, dear?”

“I just feel like I’ve been a bit forward, which is weird since I’m normally super reserved and shy, but I just feel so comfortable with you, ya know?” you sip your tea. “I feel like I’ve said or done something wrong. I can’t remember what, but I definitely did,”

“Oh darling, no,” Agnes shakes her head. “You’re perfect,”

“Really?”

“Yes, just as you always have been,” she lifts your chin and leans in, capturing your lips. “My everything,”

You never knew what head over heels felt like until now.

You wake up smiling, barely able to contain your emotions. You kissed Agnes last night. You kissed Agnes last night.

You. You did.

You head over to Wanda’s that morning, wanting to meet the twins and give your gifts. When you walk in they’re crying very loudly and Wanda and Vision look stressed out of their minds.

“Hey, Wanda!” you give her a hug. “Baby troubles?”

“Yeah, they just…won’t stop crying,” she sighs in exhaustion.

“Do you need any help?” you ask. “Also, I got you some stuff,” you hand her the gift bag.

“Oh! Thank you so much!” she smiles in appreciation. “And yeah, could you? I’ve tried everything, but if you have any ideas on how to calm them down go for it,”

You start to rock the cradles a bit, when you hear the doorbell ring.

“Hiya kids!” Agnes strolls in. “Hey hun,” she winks at you.

“Oh Agnes!” Wanda says, relieved to have yet another person to help with the situation. “Oh, Y/N, could you actually grab some milk for them? There’s some formula on the counter in the kitchen,”

“Yeah, sure!” you smile at Agnes, your heart pounding a bit before you turn around to make the milk.

As you’re stirring, you hear Vision escalate into a panic, and then it falls mysteriously silent.

“Do you want me to take that again?” you hear Agnes say.

What?

“You want me to hold the babies, should we just take it from the top?”

You hear Wanda laugh and the conversation continues on normally. You finish mixing up the milk and head toward the living room, but you meet Agnes running in to look for some liquor.

“Agnes! What do you think you’re doing?” you whisper.

“What do you mean? I’m just trying to help with the kids, just like you!”

“Yeah, but, you’re acting really weird,” you shake your head, staring at her in disbelief. “What were you talking about in there? Taking it from the top? What does that even mean?”

“Oh, honey, don’t worry. I’m just a little jazzed up today!” she kisses your cheek.

“Y/N! AGNES! The kids are gone!” Wanda gasps.

You rush in, and all of your turn around towards the stairs to see two definitely not baby boys in front of you.

“Ah, kids. You can’t control ‘em, no matter how hard you try,” Agnes chuckles, taking a sip of her drink.

Are you the only one that finds it strange that the twins randomly grew older right in front of you?

That evening you go on another date with Agnes. She doesn’t bring up anything that happened this morning, but she does mention the tragedy of Wanda’s family’s dog passing away. You feel awful, especially since they got him recently.

For the most part it’s a normal date, you’re still very much in love with her and you have an amazing time.

But by the end of it when you’re heading back home, the eerie feeling returns, and you can’t keep ignoring it. You need answers, and you need them now.

“Something’s not right here, Agnes,” you observe. “Everyone here acts weird, especially Wanda and Vision, and even you sometimes. I don’t get it,”

“Darling-“

“No!” you snap. “Every single time I’ve brought up feeling weird with you or in this town in general you distract me so I forget about it. You know something Agnes, I can tell you do. Why won’t you be honest with me? If we’re gonna do this relationship thing, we need to be honest with each other,”

She takes a deep breath, “I can’t,”

“Why not?”

“I can’t now, but I will,” she says. “This weekend, Halloween. Meet me at my house and I’ll tell you and show you everything,”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, I promise,” she nods, then leans in to kiss you. “I just have to do a few more things first,”

She walks away.

You stand outside her house on Halloween just as she asked, dressed in a cheap witch costume you found in your closet.

“Oh, look at us!” Agnes opens the door, eyeing you up and down and grinning. “We match!”

You laugh as she takes you hand and leads you to her car.

Before she pulls out, she turns to you, a glaze of fear in her eyes.

“Are you sure you want to know everything?”

“Yes,” you nod.

“Okay,” she presses down the pedal and drives.

She passes by all the familiar streets, into the neighborhoods you’ve never seen. There’s people outside that are barely moving, and the farther you go, the more frozen they become. It begins to scare you a bit, but you trust Agnes to explain everything to you when you get to your destination.

She finally stops the car at the last stop sign on the edge of town, and everything ahead looks like an empty field.

“You don’t remember how you got to Westview, do you?” she asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “I think I’ve been here a while, but my past is fuzzy,”

“But somehow you have memories of me?”

“I…” you search your thoughts. “I felt like I recognized you when we first met, yeah. But I don’t think they were actually memories,” you look into her eyes. “Why, do you think they’re real memories or something?”

“I know they are,”

“You mean, we were together before?”

“Yes,” she nods, and her gaze falls to the floor, unable to look at you. “But it didn’t end well. I made a lot of mistakes, and you asked me to leave, so I did. I’ve been all over the place, and I ended up here. Then all of a sudden, you were here too,”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing, “How come I don’t remember any of that?”

“Wanda created and controls this town. She wiped and changed your memories,”

“Wanda?” you scoff. “How would she even do that? And even if someone could do that, why would they? She’s so nice, you really think she’s controlling me?”

“I don’t know how she’s doing it, that’s what I’m trying to find out. But I know it’s her. She’s the only other magical being in this town, and she got her powers from an infinity stone. Maybe it’s just that, maybe she’s a mutant, maybe it’s chaos magic, I don’t know. But she’s the one,”

You shake your head, almost giggling at how ridiculous it sounds, “Agnes, no, you’re not making any sense. Magic? Infinity stones? Mutants? Are you serious? Come on, just tell me the truth,”

“I am telling you the truth,”

“Stop lying to me!” you storm out the car door, walking back towards town. Agnes calls after you, but you keep going. “I can’t be with you if all you’re going to tell me is complete bullshit!”

“Y/N!”

Your feet lift off the ground and you spin around, flying through the air towards her. You scream, and you see that same purple smoke coming out of her fingers that you saw before. She pulls you against her, one arm wrapped around your waist and another cradled around your head.

“It’ll all make sense now, sweetheart,”

She whispers a spell and all the memories flood back into your mind. Your real first meeting, your first kiss, your first date. Your wedding day, your first house. You see every moment, the good and the bad, the way she looked at you like you’re an angel every single day. You relive every anniversary, every holiday together, every tradition you shared, and finally the last moments together, and the day you decided you wanted your beloved wife back.

“Agatha?” you whisper.

“Yes,” she crashes her lips to yours, taking in everything she loves, everything she missed. You wrap your arms around her neck, kissing her deeply, a smile escaping every so often. You don’t care that it’s messy, you don’t care if your teeth get in the way, you’re in love and you never want to let her go again.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” she exhales, breathless.

“No, I’m sorry,” you say between more kisses. “I can’t live without you Agatha. I can’t,”

“It’s okay, we’re together again,” she slithers her fingers into your hair.

“But what now?” you wipe your teary eyes. “If you’re right about Wanda using magic to control everything, what do we do?”

“I’ve been dropping clues to make Vision suspicious, and I’ve been trying to get her to crack,” she says. “I have a feeling she might make it all crumble on her own. If it’s chaos magic like I think it is, it’s unpredictable and she might lose control if she keeps it up much longer,”

“Do you…think she’s doing it on purpose?”

“She has some consciousness of it, yes, but I don’t think she’s trying to hurt anyone,” Agatha replies. “But at the same time, I don’t think she’d hesitate to hurt anyone either if someone threatened her,”

“Oh,” you fall back in her arms a bit so you can look up at her. “How come you didn’t return my memories when we first met again?”

“I wanted to protect you. I was afraid you might get targeted if Wanda found out you remembered who you are, I doubt she’d hurt you but I couldn’t risk it,” she runs her thumb along your cheek. “Plus I thought it might be fun to fall in love with you all over again,”

You laugh, “It was kind of fun,”

She pulls you in for another kiss, “I love you, sweetheart,”

“I love you too,”

She holds you close, making up for all the lost time. You’re not sure what will happen or what you’ll have to deal with next, but you’ll do it together. Always, no matter what.

#agatha harkness x reader #agnes x reader #agatha harkness #agnes #wandavision #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers

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sevlgi · 4 years

Text

replay

requested: no

group: twice

pairing: jihyo x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: camp counselor!au, summer camp sweethearts. [18/33]

warnings: none

synopsis: Will your return to summer camp as a counselor be a replay of your only love story?

a/n: you can probably tell i’ve never been to summer camp before

word count: 1.7k

The first time you fell in love, you were 15.

Back then, you had never had a relationship before, and it wasn’t exactly too high on your list of priorities, either. You were at that point of your life where you thought you were never going to fall in love.

And then you met Jihyo.

The only word you could possibly use to describe her is beautiful- you still have a few pictures with her, and if she looks even the slightest bit like she did back then, she must still be stunning. Huge eyes glimmering with light, and the prettiest smile you’d ever seen in your life.

You only had 2 months together, but that was enough to never forget her; that was the first year you actually asked to go back to summer camp. You didn’t have any form of contact with her, so all you could do was hope that Jihyo yearned for you enough to go back to camp too.

Thankfully she did, and you spent another 2 blissful months together, sneaking kisses in your bunk beds and hiding from counselors, catching fireflies together at midnight and teaming up for every activity you could.

She was all of your firsts- first girlfriend, first kiss, first time. And you wanted her to be your last, despite how unrealistic it was.

It was almost the same the next year, but that was the last time it could be; once you turned 18, you knew you couldn’t go back. You asked for her phone number and rewrote it on your arm in Sharpie every night, hoping with all your heart it would become permanent.

But you wrote it down wrong.

You texted her the day you got home, and the person who responded was definitely not the beautiful girl you loved. In a fit, you threw your phone at the wall, then pored over its cracked screen every night, trying to find some way to find Jihyo again.

After nearly 4 years, nothing.

To say the slightest, you’ve moved on from what you brush off as a first love, something that was never meant to last. You’ve had other girlfriends, other boyfriends, in an attempt to fill the void Jihyo left behind.

This year, your parents refuse to let you date around for the entire summer again. This year, you’re going back to the place where it all began.

Back to summer camp.

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

Smiling, you bow and shake hands with the pretty woman who greets you; from what you remember of your phone call with her, her name’s Nayeon. “Yeah.”

“Welcome, thanks for coming so early,” Nayeon grins, brushing a lock of brown hair behind her ears. She doesn’t look like a particularly outdoorsy person, but then again, you don’t either. “We don’t have many counselors this year, but you’re going to be overseeing cabin 4 with Jihyo.”

Your blood practically freezes and you stop in your tracks, Nayeon sending you a confused look when you stop walking. “Jihyo?”

“Yeah, Park Jihyo. Do you know her?” she frowns, opening the gate for you. The camp is basically the same as you remember it to be, though the cabins have all been painted gray instead of the beige from 4 years ago. “She’s only started being a counselor this year, you can’t have had her before.”

“No, I...” Your fingers tighten on the suitcase as you wave mindlessly to some of the other counselors you pass. “I don’t think so.”

“Alright. Can you find cabin 4 on your own?” Nayeon asks, tapping on the plastic of her clipboard. “We’re going to start prepping for the kids tomorrow, but we’ll have a bonfire and dinner together tonight. Get to know Jihyo, you’re going to be rooming together for a summer!”

You nod, sighing, “Sure.” Cabin 4 looks the same as all the rest, except for the faded number 4 painted on the door.

Nobody’s inside, surprisingly. Like you remember, there are 6 bunk beds and corresponding cabinets, a doorway leading off to the bathroom and one more leading to the room you’ll share with the other counselor.

That room is much smaller, of course- there are just 2 twin beds and 2 tiny cabinets, one of the beds already made and the cabinet already filled with clothes. Sighing, you set your suitcase down in the narrow space between the beds.

“Y/N?”

Disbelief colors your expression when you turn to find an all-too-familiar face; just like you expected, Jihyo is still absolutely beautiful. She’s lost a little weight and grown up a lot; now, her hair is dyed a pinkish lilac, skin radiant and full lips glossy. “Jihyo. It’s actually you?”

“What the hell,” she breathes out, stepping into the room and examining you as if she still doesn’t believe you’re real. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

No reply is needed as you crash into her, your fingers tangling into the back of her hair as you hug her close, the familiar smell of her perfume making your eyes sting just the littlest bit. After 4 years, she still smells like delicate lilac and jasmine.

She pulls back a bit too quickly than you’d like, stepping away awkwardly and giving you a half-smile. “So. How’ve you been?”

“Ah. I’m... good, I guess. Missed you.” That’s such an understatement, you want to tell her. It’s stupid that you want to cup her face in your hands again, see if she still tastes like waxy vanilla chapstick.

Jihyo smiles, rubbing her arm and shifting onto one foot. “Great. Um, do you have a girlfriend?”

Your mind shuts down at all the possibilities of the meaning behind that question; could it be that she still feels the same? Maybe she has a girlfriend now, or maybe... maybe she feels uncomfortable around you? Her eyes give nothing away, so you blurt, “Yeah. Uh, nothing serious, though.”

“Same,” she answers, nodding her head oh-so-awkwardly. “Uh, I’ll let you get settled. See you at dinner?”

“Sure.” Part of you wants to ask what she’ll do for nearly 4 hours, but you watch her leave hurriedly, wanting to wrap your arms around the lingering scent of her perfume.

The first week is awkward, to say the least, though the arrival of the kids makes it a bit better. They talk a lot and move a lot, enough to keep the both of you occupied until it’s time to sleep.

You’re always stuck minding one kid or another out of the 6, so there’s really no time to talk to Jihyo at all. At mealtimes, you end up sitting with another counselor named Momo, a bubbly Japanese girl who apparently is friends with Jihyo.

Tonight, the other counselor has offered to stay with the kids who don’t want to go to the bonfire while you accompany the 2 that do; you end up just talking with Momo the entire night.

“You like Jihyo, don’t you?”

“What?” You frown as you turn to the other counselor, mouth agape at how much she apparently has picked up.

She smiles, handing a toasted marshmallow to one of her kids. “We can all see it. You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?”

Tucking your knees into your chest, you shake your head and sigh, “No. I thought she’d feel uncomfortable around me, since we used to be... you know.”

“Why would she?” Momo cocks her head, handing you a s’more despite you not asking for one. “Jihyo doesn’t have a girlfriend either.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” The blonde shrugs. “She kept telling me that she hoped she could find the girl she fell in love with here, so I guess that’s you? She’s been single for years, I think she’s still hung up on you, Y/N.”

You don’t mean to bolt to your feet so fast, but Momo doesn’t look surprised. “Watch the kids for me.”

The wind whips at your face when you sprint, almost tripping over the stairs leading up to the cabin. The 4 kids inside look up, surprised, when you yank the door open, Jihyo’s eyes the widest when you grab her wrist and lead her to your shared room. “Y/N, what’s-”

“Please tell me if this is a mistake.” Your fingers still curling around her hand, you step closer, eyes searching for a sign to stop. Closer, closer, closer-

Jihyo is the one who finally closes the gap, stumbling forward until her lips meet yours. It’s awkward, of course- you haven’t even seen each other in years, never mind kissed like this. But you get the hang of it quick enough, pushing back with just enough pressure.

Her cheeks are red enough to make her look drunk when she comes up for air, lips the tiniest bit swollen. “I thought... you had a girlfriend?”

You shake your head, panting slightly for air. “I don’t. I thought you were uncomfortable around me, so I said... I told you I was over you. I’m not, Jihyo, I still have feelings for you.”

“Okay.” She pauses, tongue darting out to lick at her lips again. “So... what do you want me to do about it?”

The smart thing to do would be to talk, but you’ve never exactly been rational when it comes to Jihyo. “Kiss me,” you smile, pushing the door to your room shut. “And try to keep quiet.”

218 notes · View notes

raichijin · 4 years

Text

⋆͛♡⋆͛ the hangover; mirio edition. ❥ a one-shot.

━━━━━ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. (tba)

preface; writing this was honestly so painful. a testatment to why i should never 1.) do collabs ever 2.) write long things. i am drained.

word count; 5k words.

starring; mirio, mina, shinsou, denki, unnamed boyfriend.

summary; after your boyfriend forgets about your anniversary, you spend some time with friends to forgive and forget about what happened. then it gets worse.

warnings; reader gets called some nasty names towards the end of the fic. watch out for that.

you were supposed to be spending this weekend with your boyfriend. at a resort, poolside, on vacation, or on a beach, or where ever he’d fancy peeling off the nice (read: expensive) swimsuit he’d gotten you for your five year anniversary.

he was kind, is kind, but not as committed to your relationship as he was to his job. not even a call as the clock struck midnight, almost an hour past your reservation, but a text the morning after with a short apology, and the sudden announcement that he’d be working late. again. you didn’t cry. wouldn’t, because shedding tears would cause a mess and a headache, and self-doubt is what’s tucking you in at night, telling you that maybe for tonight, tomorrow and the day after your feelings don’t matter.

cause his job is the one keeping you afloat. (your interest in the arts is cute, to him; like a hobby. nothing you could stay afloat with. it’s too risky, he insists, so to you, it became nothing. to others? it became offhand remarks at his high-end office parties. a joke to your in-laws. a breathed sigh of relief from your parents.) so more time is what’s best for the both of you.

that has to be it.

your friends figure out something might be wrong when you go ghost for days, bordering on a week.

you mention how it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re by yourself as you are, but they don’t buy it. say you need to loosen up, take a vacation of your own even when you say you don’t need it because you’re not working, give you sharp glares whenever you object. you don’t know why you thought you had a choice in the matter — especially when mina’s sugar mommy gives her enough money to afford 2 full suites at one of the most expensive hotels in the area.

denki also tags along, just cause, and brings his boyfriend; shinsou, with him.

if they know what’s going on, they never mention it.

and it’s a little easier to cope that way.

you dip your toes, ease yourself into the night, before you’re being pulled into the deep end and your mind’s been left at the door, but your body is having a field day.

you should’ve blacked out two margaritas ago.

you think you did.

you’re too drunk to recall all of the rash decisions you made, or whether or not you maxed your credit card, but you’ve must’ve gotten separated from your friends somewhere along the way, because when you wake up, you are distinctly not in your bed, not in a tastefully decorated room, not in a hotel.

and mina, shinsou, denki? unless they’re in the adjacent room, they’re not here with you either. you’re still in your clothes from last night. your shirt is missing a button and you don’t have your shoes on, but beyond that, you’re perfectly fine.

a scraggly bed head lies next to you, who is, notably, more nude than you are.

he has no shirt. no shoes. no pants. his blonde hair is unruly and you’re so shocked you actually start to wake up. your eyes widen and you’re sitting up so fast you’re a bit dizzy from the sudden motion.

the room is spinning and you feel sick, the headache behind your eyes making you want to grind your molars into dust. and just as quickly as you sat up, you lay back down; shaking the bed with the force. the guy next to you isn’t as heavy of a sleeper as you hoped, though. he blinks open tired eyes, showing you the most exquisite navy blue, and the little bit of drool dripping down his chin might’ve been cute if he wasn’t a complete stranger.

though you can’t stave off the creeping anxiety, the silence as he comes to his senses doesn’t feel wrong, and you’re more confused than scared.

he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, and gives you a criminally bright smile, and though his voice is wrecked when he says “...g’morning, sunshine.”, you doubt yours sounds much better.

the nickname makes you feel fuzzy, if only for a second.

“i, uh … good morning?” you sound awkward, but the guy manages to find humor in your predicament when he chuckles gently, sitting up without so much as a second thought. you can see more of his body when he does so, and when his hand comes up to ruffle his hair, you can catch the glint of a silver band, resting on his ring finger.

then everything clicks into place.

did you cheat? was he cheating?

all of the things you’d been beating yourself up over settle thick over top like smoke clouds and a raging fire. you feel like you’re suffocating, and don’t realize you’re freaking out until a strong hand is wrapping around yours, which, in your panic, you squeeze.

you spot a matching ring on your hand, that you know for a fact wasn’t there before,

and you think that’s when you pass out.

you wake up (again) to a room with tacky but charming decor, the smell of breakfast, and considerably less of a headache than what you started with. now more lucid, with the strength in your body to walk and think, your first priority is finding your phone. you tap your pockets, check the bedside drawer and tables, under your pillow, in the cracks of the bed, under the bed.

no cigar. you’re digging through miscellaneous memorabilia, trinkets and clothes that aren’t yours for at least a minute before the guy you were laid up in bed with comes back to just to see you picking through the corners of his bedroom, banana in hand.

he stands in the doorway and clears his throat. he has clothes on this time, pants. “you’re awake? are you feeling any better?”

you startle, straighten your back and stand upright, your arms falling to your sides. “um, kind of. i — have you seen my phone?”

he shakes his head, offers you the banana. “you should have this though! it’ll fix that hangover, i think.”

“i … thanks.” standing and eating a banana in someone else’s bedroom is certainly … a time.

“i made some breakfast,” he says when you’re halfway finished, “if you want some.” he ends with a smile, and you feel those 3 shots of serotonin go straight to your brain.

granted, you shouldn’t be that happy.

he takes the lead and turns around, leading you down a narrow hallway into a quaint kitchenette with a lovely beach view and all the good summer vibes condensed into a single, small room. it makes your heart hurt even more when you realize you have someone home, someone expecting you to come back.

to a hollow apartment, a cold bed, a lukewarm welcome.

you have to force your brain to be quiet to even hear a fraction of what blondie is saying.

“alcohol basically just dehydrates you. the potassium stops that, gets you all your minerals and stuff back. i heard it works with beer, so i was thinking it works for other stuff too!” he sounds so chipper that it brings your mood up just to hear his voice.

so bold and sure, warm and kind.

“but if it doesn’t clear up in 30 minutes, i have some advil i can give you! don’t want you having a headache all day now.” he’s sitting you down at his small table and sliding some pancakes in front of you, some orange juice. eating feels like a chore, but you know you have to, or that you should try at least.

while you push around your food, blondie chatters away, and even if you just met, he has you entranced by the way he speaks. smooth like the butter on his toast as his stories flow effortlessly into one another, how easily he can chat you up is amazing; getting you from gentle chuckles to full blown belly laughter before you can get your first bite in.

there’s lulls in the conversation if you count the moments he takes to actually eat, but he keeps you on your toes with his personal anecdotes, and questions about yourself, forcing you out of your shell, little by little.

the thought of your boyfriend pushed back into the depths of your mind.

until you broach the topic of your friends.

you learn quickly that he’s a good listener, completely silent unless prompted, asking questions or making jokes only when you’re finished speaking. when he asks, you tell him about the ones that got you here, shinsou, denki and mina.

his eyes flash momentarily, a look of recognition, or maybe understanding, passing over him. he hums gently, head swaying as he does so.

“they’re a little rough around the edges but they’re like family, you know?”

“i get what you mean. they were very nice when i met them. especially at our wedding!” he sips his coffee.

“i — are you alright? you’re choking!” that you are. the guilt you felt when you first woke up and the rising panic ram into your gut like a freight train, and suddenly, you don’t want to eat anymore.

"what do you mean we're married?" you rub small circles into your forehead as this idyllic morning goes right back to being cruel hell.

"yesterday, at the chapel," he twists his wedding ring with warm familiarity that makes your stomach churn. "i can't really believe it myself, like maybe we were meant to be? i know the universe works in strange ways like that."

you're sorry to burst his bubble, but you save the happily ever afters for fairy tales, not real life.

you pinch your forehead and heave an exasperated sigh.

"i have a boyfriend." you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to seek lost comfort. "and we don't know each other to begin with. can't even remember your name, i was so drunk."

you cradle your face in your palms, feel his stare bore into the top of your head.

"togata." you perk up.

“what?”

“my name. it’s togata. mirio togata.”

“oh.” you rub your cheeks, pull them back with the heels of your palms.

“that’s a nice name.” an uncomfortable silence washes over you both before someone speaks up. mirio.

“so what do you want to do?”

you answer a little bit too fast in response. “i don’t know. i … i should call my friends. i still need to find my phone—” you stand up, ignore the onslaught of nausea, and look around the kitchen.

“help me look? and then … and then we can figure out all the other details later.” mirio carries both your plates to the sink, and busies himself with dishes for a brief moment, allowing you to find the bathroom nook and reorient yourself. you fix yourself up a bit, straighten out your shirt and fix your hair up. no time to take a shower.

you cup a hand in front of your mouth, breathe and sniff. eugh.

“hey, uh, togata; got an extra toothbrush?” his heart might’ve lept when you called him by his given name.

“um! yeah!” rushing water obscures his voice a bit, but if he shouts he’s loud enough to hear. “check under the sink? i should have some there.”

“thanks.”

you rummage around in his cabinets, and in that time he’s managed to clean up the leftover food and put a shirt on.

your phone having gotten lost or being stolen becomes more of a possibility the longer you think about it. you doubt you came back to his house to do anything but sleep. how many places could you have dropped it? you come out of the bathroom to mirio sitting back at the kitchenette table, holding his phone in his hand.

“hey togata … do you think you can call me?”

“i mean, sure, but i don’t know if i have your number...”

your anxiety makes you a bit snippy even when you don’t mean to be rude, but you can apologize when you get your phone back. ”just give it to me then. i’ll do it.”

it rings a few times before someone picks up, which is a step up from going to voicemail, and the situation goes from okay to great when the croaky voice of shinsou answers, worn out and tired, but awake enough to make a greeting.

he says you’re not here to pick up the phone right now, you interrupt and say that this is you, and that you just borrowed togata’s phone to figure out where yours was.

“togata? who?”

“my, my um. husband.” gingerly said, you can see mirio tense up in the corner of your eye.

“oh,” someone’s snickering away from the mic. denki probably. you can’t help but roll your eyes. “mirio?” you’re upset that he can remember his name but you couldn’t. “how is he?” you shoot mirio a look, he gives you a thumbs up.

“good. so, uh, where are you guys?”

two hours away. they’re two hours away by car and mirio’s pickup truck is exactly what you’d expect from him. it’s big, beat up, it’s blue, and it’s his pride and joy, even if it’s slow to start up. if anything, it feels a bit humbling to hear the low hum of the buzzing engine. brings you back down to reality, out of the lap of luxury.

reminds you of the way mirio laughs with his whole chest. that gentle, rumbling purr.

you’re sinking into the crunchy leather seat with a groan, then a laugh from togata; to which you swat at him. you give him the address so he can set it up with his gps, and get going. he messes it up a bit and then it’s your turn to laugh, much to his displeasure. he blushes from the embarrassment, and you pat his shoulder, still chuckling. it feels natural. waking up together. having breakfast together. unofficial road trip to meet back up with your friends because you got blackout drunk and are 100 miles away.

oh, right. you sigh softly and mirio looks over, thinking to comfort you by turning on the radio, greeted by soft pop and slow guitars.

the silence carries.

fifteen minutes into the drive, he thinks to ask about your boyfriend.

“what’s he like?” togata drums his fingers on the wheel with an air of anxiety almost, though you can’t imagine why he would be — unless he thinks you won’t react well to his question. you don’t mind however, and sate his curiosity without as much as a glance.

“oh, he’s nice,” your statement lacks the enthusiasm you’d expect when someone talks about their significant other. it seems sincere, yet exhausted.

“buys me whatever i want, when i want it, loves his job to death, and … we were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary this week.” dejection is visible in the way you slouch your shoulders, interest waning. mirio can’t help but exercise a little concern, filling in the gaps while he’s at it..

“and you couldn’t, because you came here?” you shake your head.

“what? no. i came here because he was too busy, and my friends thought i could still have some fun on my own. his job is important to him.”

“and your relationship isn’t?” your eyes narrow, glaring at him from the passenger's seat.

“the fuck’s that supposed to mean mirio?”

“well, an anniversary is supposed to be more important than some job— don’t you think he should just take a day off? it wouldn’t hurt.” you lean against the car door, shoulder propping your head up as you peer out the window.

“i mean, i guess. but he’s keeping us afloat, so i can’t really complain.” togata’s eyebrows shoot up.

his tone is incredulous. “what, you don’t work?”

seeing you cringe away out of the corner of his eye is what makes him back track almost immediately.

“i’m so sorry! i’m — wow, that was completely out of line,” your embarrassment lessens when he apologizes, and you inhale sharply.

“don’t worry. it’s, it’s fine.” you can’t help the way your fingers dig into the flesh of your arm, gnawing the inside of your cheeks, afraid of getting laughed at. mirio wouldn’t laugh at you, would he?

“i, i used to make music. i was in a band in highschool, actually.” though mirio’s forced to keep his eyes on the road lest you two crash, you can see the way his smile reaches his ears, the silent ‘wow’ of awe making your cheeks heat up. high brow company doesn’t have much use for your talents unless it’s the violin, or something else that fits their lame-ass agenda. your bass chills in the back of your closet, a relic of the past, but a neat decoration.

you shake your head, too caught up in your own train of thought that you didn’t realize togata was speaking.

“i’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“oh! i was just curious, i asked if you sing?” you snort, then full on laugh, though mirio doesn’t seem to get the joke.

“oh, hell no. i don’t have the voice for it, nor the patience to do vocal training. i just played bass! thought it was easier than guitar because it only had 4 strings. i was wrong. maybe i could … show you sometime? i mean, it’s been a while, but i think i remember a few songs: have you heard of seven nation army?”

you talk with mirio about music at length, and learn that he’s a pretty big enthusiast himself and while he’s never played an instrument, he’s been interested in learning guitar. he brings up your band, and the memories of your senior year come flooding back; mina and denki convincing you to audition, your stage fright, recruitment later in spite of it.

mirio can see the stars in your eyes when you speak, speaking so animatedly with clear adoration at the topic at hand, and he starts getting a creeping suspicion that back where you’re from, you don’t get to talk about this as nearly as much as you like. he realizes in the same breath that he doesn’t mind indulging you. he participates enough so you don’t feel like you’re chatting his ear off, but quiet enough to hear you fill in the empty space.

the way your hands move as you tell stories is adorable and so is your enthusiasm, he could hear you ramble for hours and never get bored. and he nearly does, it’s been an hour and you’re still talking — but then you take a breath, and apologize for no good reason.

he squints at you, confused.

“what’re you apologizing for?”

“i’ve been talking waaaaay too much. i’ve barely heard a word out of you for the last thirty minutes!”

“i thought you were having fun! i know i liked listening. besides, it looks like that you don’t get to talk enough about the stuff you enjoy. i’m willing to listen, so talk all you want!” the assumption makes you furrow your brow, and you hate that you feel like he’s right.

your boyfriend either talks about his job, your friends, his parents, or nothing at all. no interest in music. no time for it. your friends enjoy reminiscing on occasion, but you don’t speak enough to them to get all nostalgic.

it’s … nice that he takes your feelings into consideration. you smile to yourself, saying nothing in response.

“we’re getting closer to the hotel — it’s 30 minutes away now.” it gets quiet again, before all the sounds you hear are the other cards and the slow hum of low volume music you’d forgotten about, coming from the radio. you turn towards the window to take in the scenery while mirio catches glimpses of you in his periphery, surprised at how adorable you look, doing even the most mundane of things.

mirio couldn’t remember much from the night before, well, can’t remember anything that wasn’t you. you weren’t completely out of it when you met him, but he could’ve misjudged, considering he wasn’t quite in his right mind either. didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made you so bold, but everything about you was so charming.

from something as simple as your smile to how easily you chatted him up, despite his tendency to be a tad overbearing, you would take him and his attitude in stride. running around town, dipping in and out of nightclubs with your friends close behind, getting kicked out of said clubs, dancing and laughing together in another—

he huffs, pouting to himself. your boyfriend was so damn lucky.

he steps on the gas and starts going a little faster. you don’t seem to mind.

the rest of the trip was silence, and it wasn’t until he parked and stepped out of the car and said something.

“wow.” he whistles, low and long, until you pinch his arm to stop from attract the stares of passerby. “you guys could afford this? gosh. that’s like, three of my paychecks, maybe.” you chortled as he helped you out, quick to clear up any confusion.

“not me,” you walked in the lobby with him, going straight to the elevators after checking in with the front desk. “i could barely afford it! mina’s … uhm, girlfriend, paid for a room for all of us.” he arches a brow at the emphasis on girlfriend, but if he has any objections, he holds his peace.

“mmh. wonder what it’s like to be rich.”

you laugh as you’re carried up a few floors, specifically to the more expensive suites, at least 12 floors up. “me too dude! mina is lucky.”

you’re barely knocking on the room door before denki is throwing it open and screeching, ushering you both in. they remember mirio from last night, which is upsetting, considering they don’t remember anything else: not how you got to mirio’s house, not how they got back home. not how they found your phone in the bathroom either, apparently.

“speaking of bathrooms, i’m gonna take a shower. keep mirio company, i guess."

you have to look through your luggage for a change of clothes, and find your phone on your bed in your room, charging and you don’t think about going through it until after you’re clean.

coming back to nearly forty notifications from your boyfriend wasn’t on the agenda, and quite frankly, might’ve been a sign. some were calls but most were all lower case texts, each more foreboding than the last. holding your towel up with one hand, you scroll through your messages with the other.

what the fuck is wrong with you?

who the hell is this guy?

beneath it, a video of you and togata. your pupils dilate, and a deeply rooted sense of dread clutches your heart. it looks like a screen recording off of denki’s instagram account, of you two dancing. not overtly scandalous, but too close for comfort.

have you been cheating on me?

for how long

how desperate are you? i say i have a business trip and you take it as an excuse to slut it up somewhere else?

you’re fucking pathetic.

heart slowly sinking, threatening to beat out of your chest, you can’t find it in you to scroll through the rest. you barely have pants on before you’re calling him up, frenzied and feeling out of breath. the phone barely rings twice before you’re going to voicemail and hearing the beeping tone.

fuck. fuck fuck fuck.

you hang up, and try again.

this time, he picks up on the first dial tone.

“baby?” you nearly yell into the microphone, while the other end remains silent.

“what is it.” his voice is hollow, not even asking a question; rather making a statement. you choke on your words, are quiet for a few seconds at most before he’s barking at you. “i don’t have all day. i’m busy.”

“t-that video. it wasn’t, it wasn’t anything—” something slams in the background that makes you flinch, and he takes it as a good opportunity to cut you off.

“so the wedding wasn’t shit either? the way he was holding you, looking at you like that, like some lovesick fucking puppy?”

“w-what? what’re you talking about honey? it’s nothing like that—”

“don’t get fucking cute with me. i’ve seen the photos. that girl mina doesn’t know how to not publicize your life.” you feel like dying.

“i knew i should’ve never settled for you.”

“you don’t mean that—”

“shut the fuck up.” there’s more shuffling on his end, a deep sigh. you’re too shaken to speak. “i wasted so much on you. gave you a house, a home, just for you to repay the favor by being a two-bit whore, sit on your ass all day and complain, and waste my time with those stupid fucking hobbies of yours.” what’s more terrifying is that his voice doesn’t wane or waver. he means it.

“... honey, please. please just let me explain!” you hadn’t even noticed the tears until you’re wiping them off your cheeks, your sniffling getting louder until you’re full on sobbing.

“there’s nothing left to explain. get your shit out by tuesday. we’re done.”

the line goes dead after that.

you don’t realize how much time has passed since you went to go shower initially, only that it’s been a while, considering how urgently mina starts knocking on the door.

“baby, are you alright? you’ve been in there for half an hour!” you can’t find it in you to respond. all it results in is choking on your own words, coughing and sobbing and tears and this fucking headache.

you don’t want to be seen.

mina announces that she’s coming in, and conversation behind the door quiets down until you can’t hear it anymore. just your own thoughts. she opens it and finds you in the corner, your knees to your chest while you’re just barely dressed, hair soaking wet. crying feebly until she rushes over and asks what happened.

you show her your phone. the texts.

she wraps her arm around your back and helps you up. hands you a towel so you can finish drying yourself off, and picks out some clothes for you to wear. when she turns around, she’s greeted by the concerned faces of your friends. mirio.

her face morphs from a look of concern to pure rage.

“what the fuck!?” she all but snatches your phone away from you, to which you pull your hands back and cradle you legs again. “who the fuck does this asshole think he is?” she looks down at you just then, and sees the red in your eyes, the tear tracks that stain your cheeks and a few drops dripping off your chin. you need your help more than you need her rage and half hearted insults.

“you yelled.” shinsou states plainly. “is everything alright?” mina approaches them and ushers everyone out, closing the door, presumably to give you some privacy.

you dress slowly, the few minutes feeling like an eternity before you’re reaching for the door handle, clean and feeling like shit, for different reasons other than a hangover.

when you emerge from your room, mirio gives you a hug.

a hug that you melt into. one that you weren’t expecting but squeeze him back just as hard, tears that didn’t quite make it out seeping into the spot where you press into his shirt. his arms are comforting and strong, rubbing and patting your back gently, until the room is silent beyond your heartbeat and your sniffles, your friends milling about in the background.

“he said i have to move out.” your fingers dig into togata’s shirt. “pack up all my stuff and leave but i don’t know where i’m supposed to go—”

there’s a smaller hand patting your back when mina speaks up.

“d-don’t worry.” you can feel her hugging you too, a special warmth blooming in your chest.

“we’ll figure something out.”

while you’re leaving the hotel, mina makes a call to her girlfriend camie to explain the situation, and by the time you’re back in mirio’s pick up, she said that camie offered to rent you an apartment in her name. the earliest she can get it was by monday, so she offered to let you spend the night for a couple days as well. denki says that he and shinsou could help you with things around the house: shopping, redecorating, etc.

togata is the one who offers to help you get your stuff. you arrange the date for monday, actually exchange phone numbers, and meet up at 8.

it makes sense; his car has enough space in the back, you don’t have much of your own stuff, but you nearly regret accepting the offer in the first place. something about moving out with your … husband in tow doesn’t sit well with you. almost seems like it’s too soon.

but mirio’s charming enough to make the whole ordeal seem less like a fever dream. you’re beaming at him by the time you’re all done, laughing and smiling and so infectiously happy. by the time you both wind down you’re out of breath, wheezing in the front seats of the car.

he smiles fondly at you.

you can feel your cheeks heat as you return the sentiment.

then both of you are back on the road. the musics louder this time, and you get to show him how shitty you sing; which he insists isn’t so bad after all. it’s after twenty minutes of this that you’re suddenly struck by the irony of it all.

“i can’t believe our first date with you was me moving out of my exes apartment.” mirio chokes on his spit, cheeks bleeding red as he does a double take, eyes flitting from the road, back to you, back to the road.

“wait.”

“that was our date?”

𝔱 𝔞 𝔤 𝔩 𝔦 𝔰 𝔱 ; @mitsusuri @okayshin @tamasoft

#mirio togata x reader #bnha x reader #togata mirio x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #togata mirio #mirio togata #bnha pocuties collab #mirio x you #togata x you #mirio x reader #togata x reader

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angelicmichael · 3 years

Note

Hey! What about 12 from the kiss prompts with Hawthorne!michael? If you like?

A/N: Thank you for requesting this 💖 I made it a little long (and added a slutty makeout scene lmao) so I hope you don’t mind! This fic kinda flip flops between fluff and angst also, so fair warning hehe. More thots will be in the tags! Enjoy <3 ALSO Michael is 18+ in this and so is Reader 😇 okay bye

You and Michael haven’t talked in weeks. You knew the new school he’d been attending, Hawthorne, kept him impossibly busy since he was basically considered a child prodigy there. You knew from the letters and messages he used to consistently send you that he was basically treated like some type of god; but it had been a while since you had heard from him at all. You just really fucking missed your boyfriend.

The anxiety of him not being in contact with you for so long seemed to only amplify your feelings of how much you missed him, and it had you worried sick.

At first you blamed him being unresponsive due to him being busy but it got to the point where it started to eat away you - you couldn’t think about anything else. All you thought about was Michael. You trusted him of course but, you knew due to his naturally clingy nature that something serious had to be happening for him to ignore and neglect you for this long.

So.. that led you to where you were now.

The air was cool and damp on your skin as you swiftly moved closer and closer to Hawthorne school. You had lost track of the exact time hours ago, but you knew instinctively it was probably midnight - maybe even past. The world was currently pitch black, the moon set high in the sky was your only source of light - which led you to stumble rather clumsily through the night. Hawthorne was isolated enough but not too isolated, Just far enough away from the city to let some of the stars peak through and shine bright through the evening sky.

You approached the talk, dark building - stealthily slipping inside; praying that no one happened to be awake.. except for Michael.

You knew there was a very good chance of him being asleep, he wasn’t expecting you after all. Fuck; you really weren’t even planning on seeing him until just a couple hours ago. This whole visit was unbelievably last minuete, but you really couldn’t help it. You atleast needed to see him, to know he was okay.

You heard the rumors of what was happening with Michael, who he was supposedly going to take the seven wonders test but you know he wouldn’t hide something that big from you.. right? You even came to terms with what to do if Michael didn’t want to see you; if him ignoring you for two weeks was some pathetic scheme to just break up with you - but you needed to know for sure. You wanted to make sure that you daydreaming about kissing him during the day when you had better things to do was foolish or all for not. You needed to know he was still yours.

The soft colored pallete of the interior of Hawthorne seemed to only agitate your pre existing anxiety. The bare, undesigned walls forced you to focus on what was at stake here - no pretty paintings or pretty colors to take your mind off of things. The bare ness and almost.. sterile.. atomsphere this place gave off almost reminded you of a hospital, which only sent chills down your spine.

You turned a corner, not sure where exactly to turn too - you didn’t think this part through, you’ve never been to Hawthorne before. Michael had talked about it to you plenty of times; boasting about his powers and how everyone treated him here but.. he never gave any details of the layout or where his room is.. there was no need for him too.

You felt your stomach drop once you heard echoey footsteps - immeaditly you whipped your head around, thinking it was someone behind you but.. there was nothing. Just the long empty, bare hallway.

You shook your head, feeling slightly disoriented before taking a couple steps forward - trying to shake this slightly unsettling feeling that seemed to sit in your stomach when your turned around and gasped. Loudly.

Seeing another human in front of you when there previously was no one made adrenaline shoot through your veins - but pure euphoria seemed to immeaditly chase the feeling once you actually registered who it was. The nearly combed blonde hair and the bright blue eyes gave it away; It was Michael.

You couldnt help but notice a gleam in his eye and how the way the corner of his mouth was slightly upturned in a smirk. Could he be happy to see you? However you reflexively took a couple steps back - you couldn’t help but feel that was a mistake when you noticed him wince.

“Michael, I was looking for you-“

“Shh”. Michael responsed, cutting you off.

Your eyebrows furrowed - immeaditly offended that the first thing he did when he hasn’t seen you in weeks is to shush you but he quickly grabbed your hand and led you off.

You stumbled behind him, trusting him as you followed him to god knows where he was dragging you too.

He didn’t take you too far; he quickly pulled you around the corner of the hallway before harshly shoving you into the wall. You gasped again, this time out of pain and embarrassingly a bit of pleasure.

Michael nearly immeaditly pressed his mouth to yours, resulting in a very wet open mouthed kiss. French kissing was rarely your forte, but; you hadn’t seen Michael in weeks so the last thing you were worried about was being gross. You were incredibly happy that he even wanted to see you - let alone makeout with you. You supposed this meant that you two were on good terms atleast.

You felt his hands roughly grip your arms, his nails slightly digging into your skin which should’ve hurt but instead only made you want him even more. His body was pressed tight against yours, leaving your back pressed up against the cool wall. With his arms around you and the way he hungrily kissed you, you almost felt trapped but you knew you were safe with him.

The smell and taste of him drove you wild; your hand went up to his hair, slightly tugging on his tousled blonde locks - not wanting him to stop. Too in bliss to even consider the reality of the situation. How you two were basically eating others face in the hallway of his highly prestigious school.

You barely even noticed when you felt one of his hands leave your arm and travel quickly down your side, gently slipping under your shirt. Just as you felt his hand start to travel up you broke off the kiss, immeaditly having to bite your lip in order to stifle a moan. His hand was only at about your stomach, close to your waist - you supposed it was the skin to skin contact that made you so needy. You missed this.

“Miss me”? You heard Michael say.

The way he seemed to pinpoint exactly what you were thinking was almost creepy at times but you simply blamed it on him knowing you so well.

“Of course I have, Michael”. You replied back quickly.

You felt kind of stunned that he would even question how much you missed him or your feelings for him and this started to send your mind into a state of panic. Were you never affectionate enough? Should you have came to seen Michael sooner instead of waiting two fucking weeks before doing anything but, again, as if he knew what you were thinking- he cut off your nearly manic train of thought by placing his hand on your arm softly; bringing you back to reality. Your gaze met his - and you nearly drowned staring into his cerulean blue eyes.

He didn’t even have to say anything at this point to calm you down; just staring at him and finally being in his presence was enough to make you feel safe and comforted.. almost in a serene state where no bad thoughts could linger in your mind. Even though no words really had to be spoken between you two he chose to speak anyway.

“Hey. Look, I’ve been really busy-“

“-your taking the seven wonders, arent you”? You cut him off.

You knew there was a high possibility of him having to take the test; and you really couldn’t think of what else would be keeping Michael so busy. It was painfully obvious he wasn’t cheating on you now.

You looked at Michael and you couldn’t help but almost laugh at his facial expression. He looked completly shocked; his mouth slightly ajar which quickly turned into a uncomfterable smile as he tried to laugh it off.

“Yeah.. I am actually. I take it tommorow”. He said.

“Tommorow? Are you sure your even ready? How could you not tell me sooner”?! You said, talking quickly.

You knew how your words could sound offensive but you didn’t really care; you were just in pure shock. How could Michael already take the seven wonders? The same test that was notorious for being dangerous and even claiming lives. The fear and anxiety you felt quickly morphed into anger.

You weren’t really sure what you were expecting Michael to do; maybe to storm off or to tell you to fuck off and leave - or something in between but instead he merely approached you. His arms wrapped around your frame and he buried his face into your neck.

You were speechless.

Out of all the reactions you were expecting him to have; it definetly wasn’t this. At first you just stood there; not really knowing what to do so you reluctantly wrapped your arms around him and stroked his back - one of your hands finding and tracing his spine. You felt him lean into your touch ever so slightly, and you couldn’t help but relish in this feeling of him again. His scent filling your nostrils, feeling his body against yours was incredibly comforting but this didn’t change the reality of tommorow. You felt your stomach start to drop again at the thought of what Michael taking the test really meant.

You knew how unlikely and irrational it was to imagine things that weren’t even a reality yet but.. you knew deep down that this could very well be the last time you would ever see Michael. Last time you would see, hold, kiss or even talk to him. You felt your throat start to tighten as you very poorly tried your best to hold back tears. You knew Michael was incredibly gifted when it came to his powers but you couldn’t stop being anxious and thinking about the worst. You know understood why he didn’t tell you this previously or contacted you in the past weeks. You supposed this way his way of saying how he was scared too for tomorrow and you couldn’t really blame him for that.

“Are you okay”? You asked.

You felt him suddenly pull away from you, his hands still lingering on your arms. You were half expecting for there to be tears in his eyes when he pulled away and sure his eyes looked a little wet but if anything.. pulling apart only exposed your state of being - not his.

The tears you were trying so fucking hard to hold in, pathetically spilt and ran hotly down your cheeks. You took in a sharp inhale, your breathing now incredibly uneven and rapid due to crying. The way Michael was holding you by your arms made it impossible for you to hide your tears, so instead you pathetically stared at the ground - too embarrassed to even meet his eyes.

“Darling.. look at me”. Michael instructed. His voice was soft but held a certain authority to it, enough to make you actually listen and look up.

“I’m going to be fine tommorow. There’s no need to be sad or worried, if anything we should be celebrating. I’m going to be the first alpha and by this time tommorow we’ll be celebrating. Okay? I promise”. Michael said, as he enveloped you into a hug.

You immeaditly reprocipricated it, not really wanting to let go because you knew how fucking foolish you sounded. Although, you still knew it was a valid fear and something to still be mindful of that could be a real possiblility. After all, even though he seemed completely confident about tommorow you knew he was scared too.

You were the first to let go of the hug. You knew it was already ridiculously late and that you should be going if you wanted Michael or yourself to get any sleep. You brushed off the couple of tears that still remained on the bottom parts of your cheeks before replying to him.

“I’m sorry I got upset, I didn’t mean to-“

“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t see you (y/n), you shouldn’t be apologizing”. He stated.

Michael quickly stepped forward to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“No matter what happens tommorow I promise I’ll see you”. Michael said.

Your chest slightly tightened at those words but you quickly brushed the feeling off and blinked the annoying upcoming tears away.

“Bye Michael. Be careful”. You said before quickly turned around and nearly running while you wiped the tears off of your cheek with your sleeve.

You ran through the hallways of Hawthorne, knowing you would probably get lost in the never ending hallways that all looked identical but soon enough you found the door that led outside. You couldn’t help but feel kind of dissapointed that all that was left was to wait for tommorow for Michael to take the test; and to pray to god you would see him again.

Tags: @mina672 @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakewaterxx @thewarriorprincessxo @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable

#let me know if u wanna be added to the tag list!#I lowkey feel like this is shit but I’m uploading anyway cause fuck insecurity hehe #I hope Michael isn’t ooc 😶 I’ve never written Hawthorne Michael before haha #my fic #my work #michael x reader #Michael Langdon x reader #AHS #apocalypse #AHS apocalypse

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littlemisslol-fic · 4 years

Note

44 (Puppy love) and 20 (Breaking the rules) for Varian and Hugo? I just want dumb boys doing dumb things together,,,, UggHhHH

Hey anon!! Thanks for the ask! I merged both of these into one story, but it’s basically a full fledged oneshot by now so oops. Have some modern-day-au-varigo!!

44 (Puppy love) and 20 (Breaking the rules)

“We’re going to get into so much trouble…”

Hugo looks at him like he’s lost his mind.

“What’s wrong, goggles?” The blond laughs, “Scared?”

Varian bristles at the taunt, scowling. He shifts awkwardly- his shoes scuff the dirt in a way that only accents how stressed out he feels. The forest around them sings with birdsong, the rustle of trees in the wind, and the gentle snip-snip of Hugo’s wire cutters. The moon shines down on them, full and bright, a hole punched in the middle of the sky surrounded with starry shrapnel.

Varian’s hoodie- Hugo’s hoodie that he’d stolen, actually, not that he’d admit it- is soft and warm around him, the green fabric surrounding him like a hug. Hugo grins like an animal, and turns back to the fence in front of them. Varian watches with apprehension as Hugo snips away at it, chopping an ugly, but functional entrance.

“I’m not scared.” Varian finally mutters, shifting his weight again. The late August air is still warm, but starting to cool the closer they get to midnight. “I’m just… concerned.”

“Sure, Var,” Hugo laughs, sticking out his tongue as he snips at the last of the fence. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Varian scowls again, flushing. The woods around them are dark, but Varian isn’t concerned about that- he grew up here in the small town of Old Corona, after all, he knew these woods like the back of his hand- no, what scares him is the idea of getting caught.

“Seriously, Hugo, if we get caught my dad’s gunna-”

“Flip out?” Hugo blows a lock of blond hair out of his face as he snips at the last of the wire. “Yeah, I know. That’s why we’re not going to get caught.”

Varian grits his teeth. Hugo, content with snipping the final chunk of fence, stands back up and shoves the wire cutters in his backpack. With a rough kick- Varian cringes at the noise, blue eyes scanning the treeline frantically- Hugo’s perfectly cut square goes flying away from the fence, leaving a doorway chopped out of the wire.

“See, easy.” Hugo grins. Varian scoffs, but when the blond offers him a hand he takes it. Hugo leads him through the hole in the fence and Varian follows with a grumble; as much as he’s bitching he’s curious about what exactly his boyfriend is up to. Hugo was nothing if not spontaneous, showing up at Varian’s house at nearly eleven at night and dragging him through the woods towards one of the only dangerous places in Old Corona.

The old fairgrounds, while only recently abandoned, had been locked tight for two years. Varian can’t help but look around in awe, seeing the way that the rusting metal and cracked concrete are slowly being overtaken by nature once again. It’s dark, the kind of inky black you can’t see inside the city, the kind that makes the milky way above so vibrant and bright in comparison- like a river of stars snaking across the night sky.

Varian can’t help but stop, just looking up and into the sky. Hugo pauses, grinning and letting him stare. Varian doesn’t get out much- not with his usual obligations as the mayor’s son- and these are the kinds of things he missed while growing up… the kind of things that Hugo is nothing but glad to show him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Varian hears Hugo ask him. He nods, dumbstruck, but when he looks at his boyfriend- Hugo isn’t looking at the sky. He’s staring Varian dead in the eye. He feels his face grow hot- he must be a shocking colour of red by now- but Hugo doesn’t make mention of it. Instead he holds out an arm, an offering that Varian gladly takes. He worms his way into Hugo’s side, delighting as a strong arm wraps around his shoulders and pulls him close.

The old fairgrounds are the kind of quiet that sinks deep in your chest. Not that they’re silent- Varian can hear the chirping of crickets and the creaky whine of metal swings as they pass a swing ride- a large tower with a round disk at the top, nearly a hundred swings hanging from rusty chains. When the wind blows they swing along in soft, meandering arcs. Out here, nearly in the country, the quiet is something that seems sacred. The kind of silence reserved for graveyards and churches, shrines and memorials. It feels immoral to break it, so they don’t.

Hugo leads Varian up to a large roller coaster, the wooden frame still nearly perfect. Varian looks at it with apprehension, digging the heels of his hightops into the cracked concrete as Hugo begins to tug him forward.

“We’re not going up there.” Varian declares, “I don’t have a deathwish, and neither did you last time I checked.”

“Relax goggles.” Hugo grins, “I was up there earlier this afternoon, checked it myself. It’s sturdy. We gotta hurry though, or we’re going to miss it!”

Hugo spins on his heel and hops the metal turnstile, not looking back. Varian scowls, following despite himself. Hugo knows him too well- knows that Varian would follow him to the ends of the earth if Hugo asked it of him. They draw close to the base of the coaster, shuffling up on top of a series of boxes left behind by previous explorers- or maybe Hugo himself that afternoon, apparently. Varian can’t help but scowl… what did his boyfriend even get up to while Varian wasn’t keeping track of him? Risking life and limb to climb unstable ruins, apparently.

Hugo begins to scale the main hill of the coaster, the path easy as on the left side is a set of metal stairs for maintenance. Varian follows, his hand firmly planted on the railing as they climb higher.

“Are you just leading me up there to murder me?” Varian calls, shuddering as the wind picks up a little as they reach about halfway up. The hill’s nearly five stories high, easily the tallest attraction in the abandoned park. Varian can almost see the tops of the trees from here.

“Why would I take you all the way up here?” Hugo asks, turning around and smirking at him. “If I wanted you dead I would have killed you on ground level.”

“I… that’s not assuring!” Varian gripes, “If anything that makes this worse!”

Hugo, the bastard, laughs.

“You don’t like bullshit.” Hugo says, and Varian can’t help but melt. Hugo turns around and keeps climbing, his boots making little thunk-thunks on the aging metal. Varian scrambles up after him, breathing in the wind as they finally reach the top. Hugo had been telling the truth, it seems, as there’s already a small setup at the very peak of the arch.

Two small camp chairs, a blue cooler in between, all precariously balanced on a small flat space at the very top. Varian assumes it was once for maintenance, like the stairs; a cluster of blankets hanging from two long flagpoles attached to the safety rails make a little roof, and when Hugo hits a little battery back a series of string lights flick on in a rainbow glow. Hugo crawls down into the little fort, looking back and smiling. Not his usual smirk, but an honest-to-god smile.

Varian can’t help but fall a little more in love.

He crawls in after Hugo, laughing as they get tangled up for a second. For a second they become a flailing cluster of arms and legs, giggling like children as they trip over each other. Varian gets an elbow to the gut and grunts- Hugo’s arms are suddenly wrapping around his waist.

“Sorry, sorry,” The blond snickers, “Didn’t account for your stupid legs-”

“What, you just want me to leave them behind next time?” Varian groans, resting up against Hugo’s side with a sigh. Hugo’s warm and solid as Varian leans into him- settles under Hugo’s arm like he belongs there, sinks into the heat of the other’s body, curls into the embrace like he was made for it.

Hugo’s chin settles on his head, and Varian smiles softly to himself.

With Hugo’s back propped up against the pole, they both face out over the forest. In the distance, Old Corona glows with street lamps and houses and cars. Above them, the stars shine just as brightly, if not moreso. Varian smells pine and something distinctly Hugo- breathes it in and lets it settle deep in his chest like a balm.

Hugo’s arms tighten around his waist, the two of them looking out towards the distant light of home. Varian feels at peace, the gentle waves of tranquil silence and soft lights from their little makeshift tent soothing the ails of day.

And then, just as Varian’s getting used to the relaxation-

Pop-pop, pop pop pop-pop-pop-

Fireworks scatter across the sky in a rainbow of light and colour, vivid oranges and blues and purples glowing across the inky sky like a scattering of magic. Varian’s eyes go wide, watching with a childlike glee as they fizzle and spark. Hugo’s hold on him gets a little closer as Varian shifts, as if the blond’s scared he’s going to pull away-

“Did you know about this?” Varian asks him, turning in his arms. He can see the reflection of colour in the lenses of Hugo’s glasses- and in the warm look in those green eyes.

“Sure I did.” Hugo says, “I know a guy who knew a guy.”

Varian snorts, refusing to look away. Hugo’s trying to play this off- of course he is- but Varian knows that he’d probably been planning this for a while. He feels his heart start to thump at the thought, that Hugo had set all this up, had thought of doing all of this for Varian-

He grabs Hugo by the strings of his hoodie and pulls him into a kiss. Hugo smiles into it, leaning into it and pulling Varian close. They kiss for what feels like hours and seconds, Varian can’t tell, before they break. They both breathe a little heavily, gasping for air a mere few inches from another kiss.

“I love you, goggles.” Hugo whispers, like a prayer.

“I love you too,” Varian murmurs, lost to the moment.

When they meet again, Varian can’t help but smile.

#varigo #varian #tts #asks #fic #these are fun!!!#sorry it took a bit anon #love you!! hope you see this!!

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Sleeping In The Hallway (Biadore) - Whiskey Neat

A/N: I’m back sooner than expected! I’m really trying to fill the list of like 30 prompts I’ve made for myself but I’ve been running quite low on motivation lately. I can’t promise my next fic will be out soon but I’ll always be around. Hope you enjoy this one!

Summary: Adore is drunk and Bianca is mad at her.

TW: vomit (nothing graphic)

Adore was in the middle of downing shots at the bar when her phone vibrated in her pocket. After messily reaching for it, the device slipped though her fingers, tumbling down to the floor.

“God I wish Bianca was here to pick this up for me” Adore thought as she stumbled off the stool and crouched down, feeling around on the sticky floor for her phone. “Where is Bianca anywa- oh fuck.” Adore panicked, as she picked up her phone and saw a text from Bianca on the screen.

Willow: Guess you’re not coming back tonight. Hope you had fun with all your FRIENDS!*insert alcoholic drink emojis*

“Bianf Im so sorey i come baxk noe” Adore typed out in a rush, slamming some random bills down on the counter before stumbling toward the exit of the bar.

On the short walk back to the hotel, Adore had time to put her thoughts together, as together as her drunken brain would let her, that is. How could she have lost track of time like this? She was supposed to meet Bianca back at their shared hotel room at midnight so they could spend some quality time together before they would have to part ways tomorrow. She checked her phone again. It was currently 2am. Another text from Bianca simply reading “Don’t bother.” also showed on the screen.

She really fucked up. Not only had she missed out on quality Bianca time, but once she reached the door of their room the realization hit her that she had also forgotten her room key.

After trying the handle, only to find it locked, Adore knocked a few times and waited. To her dismay, she was met with silence.

She tried knocking again to no avail.

“B?” She whispered, leaning against the door. “Can you let me in? I lost m’key.”

No response. By now, Adore was growing frustrated. Bianca had texted her less than 10 minutes before and she knew the older queen never fell asleep this fast, which could only mean one thing…she was ignoring her.

That assumption was very correct. Bianca was indeed still awake, listening to every word from where she was laying comfortably in their hotel bed. Was she being immature for not letting the younger queen in? Probably. But was she going to open the door for her at any point tonight? Absolutely not. If Adore wanted to be irresponsible and spend her night drinking instead of following through on their plans, then she could find her own place to sleep.

“I know you’re not fucking sleeping! Open the door!” Adore whisper-yelled, a bit too loudly. The alcohol in her system was quickly excelling her frustration to a level she didn’t know how to contain.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now!?” Adore continued, resorting to kicking the door with the toe of her sparkly doc marten boot.

After being met with more silence, angry tears started welling in her eyes.

“C’mon Bianca! This is my room too! You can’t just leave me out here!” Adore whined, voice breaking.

Silence.

“Don’t do this to me…” she sobbed, falling to her knees as her drunken state wouldn’t allow her to stand anymore.

After being met with silence yet again, Adore shifted to curl up on her side on the dirty hotel carpet, continuing to sob loudly.

A short while later, a familiar presence entered the hallway.

“Adore? What’s happened?” The Australian accent asked with worry.

Adore removed her hands from her mascara-streaked face and looked up to see Courtney kneeling in front of her.

“Bianca hates me!” she cried, sitting up and throwing her arms around Courtney.

“I’m sure that’s not true Adorm, why do you think that?” The blonde asked, rubbing her back.

“C-Cause she’s mad at me and she won’t let me in and I’m a fuck up and-and-“ Adore explained, working herself up into hysterics again.

“Hey, it’s okay….breathe….breathe…” Courtney coaxed, guiding the dark haired queen through some deep breaths.

“How bout you stay in my room tonight and we can deal with Bianca tomorrow, okay?” The Aussie offered, helping Adore stand up.

Adore nodded and wiped her nose, allowing Courtney to basically carry her down the hall to her room.

Once in the room, Courtney guided Adore to bed. After downing a bottle of water, Adore had passed out, leaving Courtney awake to send one simple text to Bianca.

“You’re babysitting this hangover in the morning. Not me.” She sent, attaching a picture of the sleeping queen next to her. With that, Courtney switched off the lamp and went to sleep.

*the next morning*

Adore could feel the nausea coming on before she was fully awake. She rolled over and groaned, trying to ignore it, fearing that her head might actually explode if she had to open her eyes to make a run for the bathroom.

She managed to drift off for about 5 more minutes before her stomach lurched dangerously and she absolutely HAD to get up and make that dreaded run for the bathroom.

Halfway through vomiting up all the alcohol she had consumed the night before, she felt a hand brushing her hair back and holding it out of her face.

When she was finished, Adore whimpered miserably, resting her forehead on the cool porcelain bowl, feeling awful and gross.

“You’re okay…” Said a gravely voice from behind her.

The voice didn’t belong to Courtney like she had expected. Instead she turned to see that it was Bianca who had been holding her hair back. Adore froze and fought back the urge to vomit again as the memory of last nights events came back to her.

“What are you doing here?” Adore croaked, feeling slightly embarrassed of how rough her voice sounded.

“Courtney told me you were here.”

“Yeah, but like what are you doing…here?” Adore asked, motioning to where they were seated on the bathroom floor.

“Helping you?” Bianca stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Thought you were mad at me…” Adore said, turning back towards the toilet as another wave of nausea came over her.

“Mad? No. Disappointed? Very.” Bianca replied, pulling Adore’s hair back once again.

“M’sorry….” Adore mumbled when she was finished.

“I just wanted to spend time with you. We’re not gonna see each other for what, 2 months after this?” Bianca admitted, handing Adore a bit of toilet paper to wipe her face with. “So when you stayed out to drink, something you can do on any other night, it was just really disappointing since we already had plans, you know?”

“I know…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I really did plan on coming back but then I lost track of time and-“ Adore cut herself off to clear her dry throat. “Can you get me some water please?” She asked with a pout.

Without a word, Bianca exited the bathroom and returned moments later with a bottle of water.

“Thanks” Adore told her, chugging half of it before continuing. “I lost track of time, and I know that’s a shitty excuse but I’d never do that to you on purpose. I’ve been trying to not drink so much lately but last night was just….yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Mistakes happen, I get it.” Bianca said, pulling Adore in against her side for a hug. Adore rested her head on the older queens shoulder and they sat like that for a bit.

“I can’t believe you were gonna make me sleep in the fucking hallway” Adore half-joked a few minutes later.

“I can.” Bianca deadpanned, holding back a laugh. The situation suddenly becoming funny now that everything was okay between them. “Now can we get off this floor? Courtney and I brought breakfast.”

“Only if you let me borrow your key so I can go brush my teeth.” Adore said with a smirk.

Bianca handed said item over to Adore. “You better not lose it. Otherwise we’ll both be sleeping in the hallway.”

#rpdr fanfiction #adore delano #bianca del rio #courtney act #biadore #angst #fluff #whiskey neat #tw vomit #submission #canon compliant

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sweetiejunie · 4 years

Text

Tonight

Summary: who would have guessed one of the best nights of your life would start with a stranger

Genre: fluff

Beomgyu x reader (ft. Soobin)

a/n: inspired by one of my favourite songs- ‘dont say goodnight’ by hot chelle rae

=====================================

Your pov:

Dressed in black skinny jeans, a fitted shirt and heels, you sat at the corner of the bar, watching as your friends were busy on the dance floor. Surrounded by sweaty bodies and horny men trying to get their attention by grinding on them. The music is all nineteen nineties but they were dancing like it was a jive, twisting, turning, holding hands as they change sides. They were all grins, and even though they looked like idiots, they didn't care.

Scoffing at the sight, you tried to recall why you agreed to go to the club at on a friday in the first place. It was nearly 1am and you were bored out of your mind. You were never one for overly crowded places or deafeningly loud music. You could always just leave, but you had already paid the, not so cheap, entrance fee and leaving your two intoxicated friends on their own just didn’t seem so responsible.

As you sat watching— well, more like babysitting by this point— you figured you could at least make your time here worth it by ordering a drink. You signalled for the bar tender, who seemed to be occupied conversing with someone. Someone dressed in jeans, converse, a plain shirt and a bomber jacket. Nothing too extravagant, you didn’t even notice him at first. But for some reason, something about him drew you in.

Other than the cute guy the bar tender was talking to, you were lucky, almost the entire club was on the dance floor, leaving the bar nearly deserted.

Making his way to take your order, you read his name tag. Choi soobin. Hmm, cute name. He had tousled dark brown hair, thick and lustrous. He was incredibly tall and well built, looking extremely handsome in his uniform. Yet, there was something about him that was still endearing.

“How can i help you?” Taking your order, giving you a smile.

‘Bunny’ you thought, the moment you saw the adorable way the side of his lips tugged upwards, exposing his front teeth.

“Hi, could i get a gin and tonic?” You ordered, extremely grateful for the wall of glass separating the dance floor and the bar. You had no intentions of screaming for the entire night.

“Classy, coming right up m’lady,” shooting you a wink before going back to make your drink.

His voice was like nothing I've ever heard before. It was smooth, like butter. His tone was as deep as the sun at midnight.

But okay, I’m getting off topic. This story isn’t about the undeniably hot bar tender you met for a brief 5 seconds. This story is about the stranger across the bar that you had yet to meet.

Coming back with your drink, soobin accompanied it with something you didn’t expect to hear.

Reaching for your wallet, you pulled out your card, ready to hand it to soobin to pay for the drink. Instead, he held up a hand, stopping you.

“No need to pay. Courtesy of that guy,” directing your gaze over to the boy sitting at the other end of the bar, who was now busy on his phone.

“Hm, tell him thanks for me.”

Next thing you knew, the cute boy was approaching you. Your heart beat increasing each step he took closer, making your mind race.

Beomgyus pov:

He sat at the bar, waiting for his best friend, soobin, to get off his shift. They were supposed to hang out for the night but soobin had been called to fill in for a coworker. Joining him on his shift, beomgyu figured getting a few drinks on the house would have been enough of an apology.

Sitting at the bar, beomgyu was engulfed in utter boredom. Soobin had been preoccupied cleaning the counter, leaving beomgyu alone to scan the rest of the club. The scene of desperate men hitting on women digusted him. He couldn’t understand what was so attractive about rubbing their bodies against strangers.

Starting to blow raspberries, he looked for anything remotely interesting. That’s when loveliest girl he had ever seen stopped him in his tracks. He sat staring at her, bemused, as time seemed to congeal, to stand still for a moment. The way she sat there, her hair effortlessly styled, her chin resting in her hand, the way she stared into, what he assumed to be, nothingness. There wasn’t anything too amazing about her, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Maybe it was the fact that she was the only one not dressed in an inappropriately tight dress and stripper heels.

“She’s pretty huh,” Soobin suddenly stated, knocking beomgyu out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” Beomgyu replied, diverting his attention to soobin.

“Don’t pretend. You’re practically drooling like you’ve just seen your first meal in 10 years. I saw her come in with some of her friends just now. Doesn’t seem like she’s having much fun though. You should go talk to her,” wiggling his eyebrows at beomgyu.

“Yeah, no way,” he spat.

Before soobin could protest, he noticed you trying to call the bar tender

“Hey, go do your job.”

“Fine. But this conversation isn’t over,” soobin nagged before making his way over to you.

Beomgyu watched as his friend went up to you, taking your order and gave you a wink as he walked away. Unexpectedly, soobin’s playful act enraged him a little. He didn’t know why and he was afraid to find out.

Noticing how soobin shot him a look, Beomgyu figured his face was an open book and probably said it all. Picking up his phone, he tried to distract himself. But to be honest, this act was just a complete boondoggle.

After soobin was done fulfilling your order, he went back to beomgyu, “you owe me $8. And she said thanks.”

“Wait what?” Beomgyu shot, genuinely confused by his statement.

“I told her you paid for her drink. Gin and tonic, she’s a classy one.”

“Why did yo-,” beomgyu said, only to get cut off.

“She’s been straing at you all night too. I just gave you an in, go talk to her. Now go, before i have to clean the bar from your drool.”

Astonished, beomgyu refused, “what, no. I’m not hitting on some stranger. I-”

“Oh, yes you are. I’m sick of hearing you talk about how lonely you are. No more excuses. Just go, you’ll thank me.”

With him now being down $8 and knowing he won’t win this battle. Beomgyu complied and stood up, walking over to you, mumbling a string of curses at soobin.

—

“Hey, im beomgyu. Im the one that apparently bought you that drink. Can i take a seat?” He spoke in a call tone.

“Y/n. Sure sit. And what do you mean ‘apparently’?” You asked, skeptical at his choice of words.

“The bar tender, soobin,” he started, taking a sit on the stool, pointing over to the boy who was cleaning glasses this time. “He kind of just said that so i had a reason to come over and talk to you.”

“Oh, well thank you. And i guess i should thank him too,” a small smile tugging your lips as you faced your lap, a blush creeping on your face.

Beomgyus mind flooded with thoughts as he tried his best not to blow up from your adorable flustered state.

“Um so, if you dont mind me asking. What are you doing here? You dont seem to be enjoying yourself very much,” he queried, trying to occupy his mind by changing the topic.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Ladies first,” he gestured with a smirk.

“Hmm, my friends dragged me here,” you dryly laughed. “One of them just cashed in a check and wanted to ‘make some memories’ as she said,” quoting her and sighed, “Im not much of a club person though.”

“Hm, well, i was supposed to be spending to night with my friend,” he said, turning over to Soobin’s direction. “But he had to work!” Saying the next part loud enough so soobin could hear.

Facing beomgyu, soobin replied, “shut up beomgyu, you should be thanking me.”

Beomgyu tsked, causing you to laugh at their playful banter. As the conversation continued, you both started to relax and the previous nervousness disappeared. With your drinks now finished, you were simply just getting to know each other. Just the basic stuff, like hobbies, pet peeves and so on.

Even though you had only been chatting for... oh, i lost track of the time, oh wells. But you found out a lot about him. You learnt he loves singing, he plays the guitar, he hangs out with 4 other friends, one of which being the bar tender, and the list goes on. Talking with beomgyu was... easy. You told him about the time your friends had gotten you lost. The time it started pouring when you supposed to have a barbecue. And even the time you almost cracked your head open by missing a ‘wet floor’ sign.

Just as you thought the conversation was coming to an end, beomgyu asked you one last question. And if it wasn’t for this question, you might have missed out on the best night of your life.

“What’s your... biggest fear?”

You thought about it for a second before answering, “that’s a good question. I guess i have to say im scared of tomorrow, of the future. Cause who knows what will happen.”

“Huh...” he trailed off, “well, you should just let the universe run its course. Let it align itself. Don’t worry about tomorrow cause tomorrow ain’t tonight right?”

You let out a dry laugh at his reply, looking down at your empty glass. You never thought about it that way.

“Why dont we get out of here? Since we both aren’t having much fun anyway,” he suggested, holding out a hand, locking eyes with you.

You hesitated. One, your friends were here, and god knows how much they’ve drunk. And two, he was practically a stranger.

But you were up for an adventure and for some unknown reason, it felt like you’ve known him for ages. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe you were just losing your mind. But he was lean and sinewy, and possessed the sort of angelic good looks that made it almost impossible for you to refuse him anything. You trusted him and your friends’ll be fine. Or at least you tried to convince yourself of the latter.

Momentarily forgetting your friends existence, you grabbed his hand, nodding. An unintentional smile breaking across your face, as did his own.

“Soobin, ill see you tomorrow alright,” saying to soobin as he lead you to the exit.

“Have fun you two,” soobin said smoothly until he remembered beomgyu owed him, “wait! Choi beomgyu you owe me $8!”

“Quick run,” beomgyu leaned down, whispering to you before pulling you away faster, dodging the rag soobin threw at him.

—

You were aimlessly strolling, unsure of where you were going or what you were going to do but it excited you. As you left the club, beomgyu didn’t let go of your hand, making your heart play hopscotch in your chest. You realised leaving with a stranger could have been a really bad decision. But won’t it be such a great story to tell your future kids when they asked how you met? You were swept off your feet by a beautiful stranger at a bar. Okay, maybe not the best story to tell impressionable kids but still, it was an thrilling one.

Wait, wait future kids? Gosh, this was someone you spoke for for one, maybe two hours, why were you thinking of starting a family. This was a guy you barely knew, how could he have this effect on you?

Walking down the streets, it was a ghost town. Not a single soul in sight. But then again, it was way past 3am in the morning. The only people crazy enough to be up at this hour are drunks and witches. Beomgyu swung your intertwined hands, singing a song as you made your way down the street. A song you identified to be not spring, love, or cherry blossoms. When he had come to the rap portion of the song, you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“What’s so funny?”

“You can’t rap,” covering your mouth as you let out another laugh.

“Shut up. I can so rap. You’ve just never heard a god rap,” he challenged.

“Sure, whatever you say,” you replied sarcastically, grinning and rolling your eyes.

Content with your answer, he continued singing. A smile was permanently plastered on your face as he did so. After walking for nearly 30 minutes, you still had no clue where you were headed.

“So, where are we going?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

“No idea,” he answered simply, turning to face you, a smug smile on his face.

You chuckled, “Well it’s getting kind of late. I think i should probably head home soon.”

“Nooo,” he whinned, “come on, dont say goodnight yet. The stars are still in the sky, the night’s still young.”

“Beom-“

“Shh!” He put a finger on your lips, cutting you off before you could retort. “I’m not letting you go till tomorrow paints the sun across the night.”

With that, he placed an arm around you, keeping you in headlock, not giving you a chance to run away, “i got my sweet mary jane with me. That’s all i need to get high tonight.”

“Hey! Alright, alright, let’s wait till tomorrow. Now let me go!” You giggled, playfully hitting his arm to let you go.

Releasing you, you stood up straight again and interlocked your arm with his, shooting him a smile, to which he reciprocated. You felt surprisingly comfortable around beomgyu. Normally it would take you a few weeks of knowing someone before you dared to be this close to them. But, beomgyu was different. It felt different.

Walking for a few more moments, you leaned against him and spoke, “why don’t we go to a beach? I haven’t been to one in a while. And going to one in the middle of the night sounds pretty fun.”

“Hmm,” Beomgyu thought about it for a second before continuing, “the tides would be pretty high now but it would be fun to watch the sun rise and a i know a beach that’s around here but it’s kinda far for a walk.”

“Great, the walk is fine. It’s settled then, let’s go to the beach!”

“Wait, you sure you can walk that far in those?” Giving you a questioning look, gesturing to your choice of shoes for the night. “Don’t get me wrong, they look fantastic on you. But they ought to hurt eventually.”

“Oh,” you looked down and realised he was right. But there was little you could do about it at this moment, “I’ll be fine. Worse comes to worse, i just take them off and walk barefoot. No big deal, I’ll probably take them off when we get to the beach anyway.”

Beomgyu hummed a response at your child like smile as you spoke. “Alright, but if its to painful, tell me, i don’t mind giving you a piggyback ride okay?”

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile, squeezing his hand to reinforce your statement.

With beomgyu leading the way, it was nearly 4am when you reach the beach. The moonlight shone down, a diffuse glow, reflecting off the waves, lighting the beach from pitch black to charcoal grey. Taking off your heels, you walked to the sand, letting out a sigh. Even though you couldn’t make out much of it, you still stood there in admiration. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the sea breeze against your skin and the feeling of the cool sand under your feet. The serene environment was exactly what you needed after being in a noise polluted club for the past few hours.

Beomgyu stood behind you, smiling as he watched your actions. Little did you know, you had the same effect on him as he did on you. You barely knew each other. Yet, you both knew after tonight, there was something there, and you couldn’t deny it.

Walking up to you, he grabbed your hand again. “Follow me,” he stated simply, pulling you along.

Guiding you further down the beach, he brought you to a small pier that overlooked the ocean, walking until you both were at the end. Letting your hand go, he sat down, his legs dangling off the edge as he rested his arms on the rails. Without saying a word, he patted the spot next to him, offering you a seat, to which you gladly accepted. Placing your heels behind you, you sat down, dangling your legs off the edge as well.

You both sat in silence, enjoying the company of the moon and each other. The silence wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just peaceful. Leaning your head on your shoulder, he rested his own on yours. Right then, all you knew was that this, was the quintessential dream come true.

“Sometimes i wish i could just throw my middle finger to the new sun.”

Beomgyu chuckled at your statement, “what?”

“I just don’t want this moment to end,” you admitted, sitting up to face him, smiling gently. “I didn’t expect the night to go so well.”

“Me neither,” beomgyu replied simply, at a loss of words.

In that moment, you looked angelic, the moonlight spilled onto your face and hair. The smile you gave him, it was as if the stars themselves, decided to rest behind the soft cushion of your lips. As he looked into your eyes he knew, all the beauty of the universe could not even hope to compete with this simple thing: love.

Would he dare admit it? He saw it in your eyes and in the short amount of time he knew you, it felt more than amazing. In the short amount of time, he met someone he never thought he’d meet. In the short amount of time, he actually fell in love with you.

=====================================

Had this drafted for almost a month and finally got around to finishing it. Rly like this so hope u do too! 😣💕

Masterlist

#txt au #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt fanfic #beomgyu au #txt #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu ff #txt imagines #txt beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu #txt ff

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vore-scientist · 4 years

Text

The Panicking Prince

(A humorous little adventure containing Lots of GT interaction and some safe, soft, M/f GT vore, platonic and willing)

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

Full title: In Which Prince Yonatan Does The Books

Summary: Prince Yonatan discovers some information that about the fate of the kingdom. This causes him to panic so he runs off to find his sister the Princess Sophia and the Giant Wizard, Yonah.

Warnings: No real warnings. I will mention that Yonatan is 16 years old but he’s NOT the one eaten (It’s Sophia as usual). There’s an almost minor vorish moment involving him, but it’s silly. It’s all silly actually.

---

In a well lit room in a high tower of the Castle in the City of Luster in the Kingdom of Orr sat a prince. A prince surrounded by scrolls, notebooks, files, boxes, and cabinets. This prince was almost 17 years old, which was unusually young to be handling the paperwork of an entire kingdom. Especially since the Kingdom Of Orr was not one kingdom, it was two, as many centuries ago the King of Orr was picked to be the King of the Mystic Woods. And ever since then the new Mystic King maintained the claim on Orr.

But Prince Yonatan was not a usual prince. He had been cursed at 8 days old, at his naming day, by the Ivory and Bronze Fairy Courts. They imbued him with intelligence and wisdom beyond his years. On the Prince’s 9th day of life he spoke in full sentences, the first of which he used to critique his feeding/sleeping schedule. And on the 10th day had set up a system that had him feeding, sleeping, and relieving himself on an extremely exact timetable. And it only got worse from there.

With a mind hungry for knowledge but so full of new thoughts, the poor prince was constantly in need of diversions. Play with his siblings could occupy his body well enough; wrestling, tag, hide and seek, sword fighting, and climbing through areas of the castle they had no business being in. But as conversationalists went, they weren’t engaging. He chatted with Royal Philosophers until he ran circles around their theories, and his father’s political advisors until he could contribute to their machinations, which he often put a stop to before some sort of scandal got out.

No advisor had successfully lead a power grab let alone a coup. but every time one got close it was a whole do-to. Now such things only happened Once in a while, when Yonatanlet one slip his notice, just to keep things lively.

A few years ago he’d taken up a new hobby.

The bookkeeping of Two Kingdoms was a daily task, one that Yonatan found extremely relaxing. With constant fresh information, it never got boring, and he could concentrate entirely on it. No more of his mind wandering and making him worry.

See. Yonatan has anxiety. Bad anxiety. For all his wisdom, his brain was constantly racing and all those thoughts were so overwhelming, especially ones about the probabilities of disasters, or outcomes of potential wars, or that he was a terrible brother because of his curse, or that the royal advisors secretly resented him and were planning his assassination, or maybe or that his brain might one day just pop, or perhaps...

You get the point.

When he did the kingdom’s books, he had no such thoughts. At least, not as many.

You might think such work is boring, and yes, stuff like guild dues and which portions could be taxed, or reviewing the fluctuations in prices of basic goods and preparing to subsidize things for winter are certainly borning. But tracking the latest dragon sightings and the current standings of registered and known unregistered heroes and villains was exciting.

Managing the FairyTales was an important job that Yonatan took great pleasure in. Reviewing and updating the current status of prophecies and their subjects, with calendars of known and calculated trigger dates and references of contingency plans for both disasters and celebrations. Following Long Lost (or recently lost) Heirs and their last known locations, with information on anyone noteworthy or particularly unnoteworthy having passed through them. Keeping logs of treasure hauls taken in and given out by heroes and villains, making note of any (interesting) magic items. The latest word on magic items of secret but great renown, and any rumors involving their being lost, stolen, or found.

And all of this and more! Organized so that the right information was disseminated to the right people. Information becoming instruction, and instruction becoming action. Many actions taken simply to influence others, in large and small ways. For example: Pushing people to influence some tale. Such people might never know they were part of a tale. They might have just been spurred on to tell a potential hero a small piece of information, or offer them a meal or place to stay for a night.

All this made sure that FairyTales continued to be Told.

You get the idea.

But the prince was also trusted with monitoring some of the more sensitive information. Of note in this instance: Anomalous magical spikes in the Mystic Woods.

The Mystic Woods was always shifting, but it was crucial to note where things were when interesting events occurred. Even if the event was merely a surge of forest magic, detected by a ranger or King Ben himself. Most of the time it was just a flare up as the mysterious currents of magic swirled around and collected. Or King Ben bit his tongue and for some reason the Mystic Woods reacted.

Lately, a lot of the flares had been accompanied by little bits of good fortune! A tree being cured by disease, a swarm of insects cleared away, a rare magical berry bush bearing fruit for the first time in decades. Or were in locations inhabited by many of the mystic woods communities. Villages of Elves or colonies of gnomes, all who benefited in small ways from the flares. What nice things! Knowing good things were happening made Yonatan feel very good!

Unfortunately, that mood was soon to be soured. As he reviewed the flares his super-fairy-magic-enhanced brain made some connections.

What had he been reading yesterday?

Though he wasn’t technically permitted to read the reports between King Ben and the Royal Wizard, and Evil Giant, known as Yonah HaEsh. Yonatan liked to know how his favorite sister was doing.

Even if Yonatan had trouble connecting to his siblings, he still loved them, and they loved him. But Sophia… She was special to him. Her carefree attitude taught him to act without thinking; With his brains and her wildness, they had been quite the pair of troublemakers. There was rarely a dull moment with her. And unlike his other siblings, who brushed off his anxiety attacks as just Yonatan’s Magic Brain Weirdness, she would help him. It was incredible how someone so unfettered could also be so steady.

Many a night he had run to her in tears over some fear, like how according to some calculations, the moon would crash down in a few hundred years, wiping out all life. She never got mad at him for waking her up, and she’d hold him as he cried himself to sleep.

Adjusting to her being officially “kidnapped” by an evil wizard had been difficult to say the least. That was almost 2 years ago. It made him feel better to know she was thriving under the care of her captor. Even if he missed her dearly.

Back to the reports.

There had been several odd happenstances while she was on patrols with Yonah. Patrols were something Yonah had been doing long before Sophia had been assigned to him, and it was mainly the half-giant’s way of not going stir crazy. Explorations out in the forest; limited by the 5km range that Yonah could go from his tower, usually just to see what was around, but also to hunt and collect spell components. Yonah had at some point noted that when he went out with Sophia, they would encounter more interesting places and situations.

A few of those places had surges of magic, mostly after, but sometimes before, Sophia encountered them. Many of these places had been having some sort of trouble, and it was clear from the ShiftLogs, that they shifted within a few hours of Sophia and Yonah’s patrol.

Yonah even noted, almost a year and a half ago, that the forest was easier to navigate when he took Sophia with him.

Almost as if…

Yonatan’s genius brain had made a connection but it was not letting him actually think it. But he knew what it was. And his heart started to pound loudly and painfully against his ribs. Sweat beaded on his brow and his hands felt clammy.

Oh no.

No no no no no.

Now he was panicking. Panic was bad! It hurt! No! He hated this!

He could be wrong. Easily! This kind of thing never happened. It was probably just coincidence. But no such thing existed in their world That had been proven long ago by some amazing sages. There was nothing he could do about it if he was right. He had to calm down. Once he was calm he could… right.

Nothing doing.

Just panic.

---

It had been a long while since he’d had an anxiety attack like this one. He couldn’t do any more work, instead he ran manic around the hallways until dinner time, where he ate barely anything and what he did he threw up shortly after. And sleep? Out of the question.

Unless.

What time even was it? About an hour till midnight? Didn’t really matter. Still in his pajamas Prince Yonatan used one of the secret passages to get out of the castle. One that led to the stables so he could take his horse. Otherwise the trip would take a day.

Still, he only rode Soos up to the Mystic Woods. Soos’ full name was Stubborn Old Ornery Stallion. Even though Soos wasn’t more than a few years old. Yonatan liked his horse and hoped he would live long enough to live up to name.

It was a smooth 3 hour ride out of the city and past the farms and rolling hills. There wasn’t a defined border but once the trees got decently thick yet still lacked magic, he had Soos stop. Soos whinnied and stomped his hooves a bit annoyed.

“Just checking,” Yonatan said, “You don’t have to come with me.” Even for a son of the Mystic King, the Woods was incredibly foreboding, especially at night.

Soos’ ears flicked as if to say ‘Excuse me? I was bred for use in this forest.’

“Alrighty then!”

Without another thought (which was a considerable feat), Yonatan spurred Soos back into a trot, and into the woods. There was no point in picking a direction, he had to trust the forest.

Back in the City of Luster there was panic. No one knew where Prince Yonatan was. Ben extended his awareness but sensed nothing. He wasn’t unduly worried since Yonatan was too clever for his own good, but that didn’t mean there was no reason for concern. And so he woke up the entire city, having his guards spread out to ask anyone if they’d seen or spoken to the prince.

That will have to be dealt with later, as by now Yonatan had made it to his destination.

No surprises here: it’s the Terrible Tower which conditionally belongs to the Great (and also) Terrible Yonah HaEsh. The current prison of Yonatan’s sister, the Princess Sophia. The tower sat to one side of a clearing which now held a mage’s garden. No matter how the forest shifted, Yonatan had never come into the clearing behind the tower, it was always on the side with the garden.

He had also never been here at night. There was very little moon, but there were a few plants that luminesced. Not very brightly; when he emerged into the clearing with his lantern the lights diminished. But he needed to see the path to the tower.

There was no way to get Soos up it, but Soos didn’t want to go inside, he’d much rather stay in the garden. He knew which plants were safe to eat, and was confident no monsters would come here, not ones looking to eat horses anyways. No, if a monster were to come they would be here for the wizard, probably after some potion or spell. Monsters, like humans, needed the services of mages, but were more comfortable dealing with other monsters.

Yonatan removed Soos’ saddle, leaning it up against the tower, and started climbing.

Not so easy in slippers… Thankfully the large thorns were just illusions. He made it up no problem, and keeping in mind the spacial dilation he hopped to the floor.

The workshop, which looked normal from where he’d sat on the windowsill, suddenly became nearly 4 times larger. Having expected this he rolled out of his fall. His slippers made soft pat pat pat noises as he walked briskly to the trap door which was unfortunately closed but for those in the know, and Yonatan was, there was a secret human sized door. That led to the conveniently human sized stairs that ran alongside the large ones. In fact, the only way to access those stairs was through that entrance.

From the workshop course. Once you were in the tower proper, as long as you knew the stairs existed, they would graciously appear for you. This was a feature that Yonah had added since Sophia’s arrival, as well as a few well placed and magically hidden ladders and ropes.

The desired room clear in Yonatan’s mind, it was only one flight down to the hallway that led to the bedroom. The massive door had a very much not hidden crack in the lower right corner, perfectly irresistible to any sneaking thief. Though these days it got more use by Princess Sophia when she needed the bathroom at night.

Ignoring the half-giant asleep in his bed, Yonatan made a beeline for the massive golden birdcage that rested next to the nightstand. Though he wasn’t checking on Sophia. To get up to the bed he had to climb on the outside of the cage up to the nightstand and jump the very safe distance from the nightstand to the bed. He still looked down and climbed carefully just in case.

The Princess Sophia was not in the bed which hung suspended off center in the cage. He continued to climb up as quietly as possible. Best not to make noises that would wake up the giant in an irritable manner.

Which is why he took a running leap off nightstand, landing with a soft PUFF on the pillow. Right next to the giant’s head. But Yonah did not stir.

The half-giant slept with his back to the wall, on his left side, angled downward. Left arm tucked under two pillows, right arm lazily hung around the pillow. If Sophia had been sleeping on Yonah’s person she would have been curled up in that right arm, against the giant’s face. She was not.

Well. Fine. That was her prerogative. Yonatan wasn’t here for her anyways. Well he was but not just yet. First he needed the half-giant. He knelt down Yonah’s face. Trickles of dim orange light escaped through the eyelids. The prince was a bit nervous about waking the wizard, but it had to be done. He experimented first by tapping the giant’s nose.

The deep breaths turned into stilted gasps and snuffles, the giant starting to become aware of a human guest.

“Uh, Mr Giant?”

One dimly glowing eye cracked open to look at him in confusion.

“Eh?” The giant grunted. Then the right arm lifted and before Yonatan could react he was slapped down under a massive palm. It had been a lazy move, so he wasn’t injured, rather he was gently pressed into the pillow. Yonatan didn’t resist.

After running all the way here Yonatan had escaped the majority of his anxiety, and the weight of the hand was pushing the rest away, and the warmth was extremely relaxing. Which, while part of his plan, this not exactly how he pictured spending the night. It was not comfortable.

After another minute he pushed the hand off and he sat in front of the Giant’s face. Yonah had started to fall asleep again.

“Where’s my sister?” Yonatan hissed.

It took a few seconds before the giant grunted out “Iher?”

“My sister. Sophia” Yonatan helped.

Yonah took a breath and with some effort said something in Implausible Giant and even though Yonatan was fluent it was garbled. But the giant had said it with a slight smile. The prince didn’t need to be a genius to know Yonah had eaten Sophia. As long as he didn't think about it too hard it shouldn’t be a problem. Of course Yonatan thought very hard about most things.

And if you’re wondering why Yonatan wasn’t concerned that his sister was eaten by a half giant, maybe you’re thinking Yonatan thought of her as being in his way? And having his sister eaten was one less person ahead of him in the line of succession. No. He knew his sister was safe and snug in her giant’s stomach. The half-giant had half-cursed her so that she couldn’t be digested and didn’t need to breathe.

But he could and he did!!! And the very sleepy giant’s hand got hold of him once more and shoved him towards the face. Without much trouble one of his legs was forced between the jaws! It was painful too, not because Yonah was biting him, just the contortion of his hips. His other leg was bent and his knee was against Yonah’s fangs. Yonatan yelled, quietly, and punched Yonah in the nose.

“No you stupid giant I’m not Sophia! You already ate her!”

That got Yonah’s attention. He released the human’s leg and smacked his lips as he blinked into almost full consciousness.

“That’s better!” Yonatan stroked Yonah’s nose, he knew the giant liked that a lot. “I Hope you enjoyed that little treat, but I’m not on the menu.”

The giant’s eyes flitted open, the soft orange light focusing on the prince. “You taste,” the giant breathed in and out, “like you sister.” He smiled a bit mischievously.

“I know I do, that’s why I’m not angry,” said Yonatan. “But don’t do that again unless I give you permission.”

“Hmf,” Yonah breathed sharply, “You never do.”

“That’s your problem, not mine.”

“And what?” he sighed, “Is yours?” Yonah genuinely wanted to know. He liked the prince. Yonatan might be pompous but he had a good heart.

Yonatan pouted and looked away, “I’m. Anxious.”

Yonah took the prince in his hand again, his palm against Yonatan’s back. Once Yonatan leaned into his hand he stroked and massaged the human. Using his knuckles against the prince’s back, taking his arms between fingers, squeezing and rubbing gently but firmly.

“You always are, I want to know why, Little Prince,” said Yonah with a little more sternness.

Yonatan linked an arm around Yonah’s fingers, squeezing them to get Yonah’s full attention. He looked right into the giant’s eyes, and even with the glow he could see his reflection.

“Can. I sleep first?” Yonatan yawned, “Here? With you?”

Yonah sighed, and gave the prince a squeeze back.

Back in school, his friends that knew he was half-giant were insistent that they sleep cuddled up to him before exams. All of them piled on top of him, in his arms, They would sleep so soundly even if they were terrified. It was a power he did not understand, but folks tended to sleep more soundly if he was holding them, or they were laying on him. Not that he minded, he absolutely loved being adorned in friends.

“Of course.”

He also knew Yonatan wasn’t above ordering him around, even if the prince didn’t technically have that authority. The kid, who was almost a young adult, was very commanding. Yonah angled himself a bit more towards the prince, hooking his arm around his face so the prince could crawl into his embrace, which Yonatan did without being prompted. Curling up with his back to the giant.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” Yonah asked one more time.

“No.’

He wasn’t expecting that answer and expressed his surprise with a small snort of air at the prince’s back. The prince did not look at him.

“I’m too tired to deal with it, and can’t sleep because of it,” he said very quietly.

Yonah made a grunt of understanding. Whatever ‘it’ was, the prince would handle it better after a proper night’s sleep. Or at least some sleep. The prince had amazing timing, it was barely ten minutes since he and Sophia had woken up to the HourGlass’s alarm, and reset her curse. So the prince had at least 3 and half solid hours of sleep to look forward to.

Yonatan buried his face in the giant’s arm. It was so soft and warm, and friendly. That was what he needed after all, a friendly presence. Before that had always been Sophia, holding him tightly as he cried and shivered. But this was leagues beyond that;He could feel his mind and body calming down so rapidly it was almost alarming. And then he was asleep.

---

Yonah was thankful that Sophia woke up first, waking him so he could stop the HourGlass before it gave them all a painful headache.

He was a bit miffed when Sophia re-activated her curse, mumbling something about still needing sleep and ‘you can wait a few more hours for breakfast right?’ but not waiting for an answer before falling back asleep. He could of course wake her back up, but if Sophia didn’t want to be spat out there wasn’t much he could do without invasive magics.

“Morning already?”

Even trying hard not to disturb the prince, Yonah had to lean over to reach the HourGlass. Yonatan had still woken.

“Yes. you can sleep longer if you like,” Yonah said, “but I’m getting up.”

“No. no. I’m good,” Yonatan freed himself from Yonah’s arms, stumbling off the pillow and onto the nightstand. The prince didn’t look very rested, but Yonah didn't argue with him.

Yonatan’s head throbbed a bit, mostly from lack of sleep but also from his wild ride of mania last night. He made himself focus on the waking wizard. It did not escape his Attention that yonah was not spitting up his sister. The half-giant sat up and the bed sheet fell off of him, Yonatan could see the wizard’s slightly full midsection. No movement either, but it was hard to tell as Yonah yawned and stretched. To take his mind off that he looked at Yonah’s face.

His normally trim goatee was lost a bit in the surrounding beard, and Yonah’s wild hair had come out of it’s golden bands so it hung over his shoulders like a lion’s mane. He yawned again and Yonatan got a good view of the large fangs.

Yonatan wanted to say something now, but decided to wait until the wizard changed out of his pajamas. He used magic do it and Yonatan loved watching people use magic. And once Yonah was properly dressed Yonatan realized he was in PJs too. Ok, get dressed first, then talk.

“Is there a chance you have clothes that fit me?” Yonatan asked.

“Actually, yes,” Yonah said, in a soft voice, picking up the prince and placing him on top of the chest of drawers where he kept his clothes. There was a human sized wardrobe on top.

“It’s magic,” Yonah prompted.

Yonatan opened it and found a few simple clothes that were indeed his size, though it was mostly outfits that were clearly meant for Sophia. A green one stood out to him, green usually did. Must be something about being a royal of the Mystic Woods. You always looked your best in green.

“If you want privacy, step inside,” Yonah indicated the wardrobe.

Oh! Fascinating. Yonatan stepped through and found a small open circular dressing room, with a carpeted floor, racks of clothing all around, and a mirror. Brightly lit though no obvious light source; Yonatan decided that mystery could be dealt with later.

He walked out with purpose and Yonah put a hand on the dresser so Yonatan could walk across to his shoulder.

“Would you like breakfast, Your Highness?” Yonah said, still keeping his voice soft but managing to be snarky.

Yonatan elbowed the giant in and for his cheek.

“Yes,” he said.

Breakfast made him remember...

“So. Uh…. Sophia-“ Yonatan started to ask as Yonah headed towards the kitchen. From his bedroom to a short hallway to the stairs and up the stairs.

“She wanted to sleep more,” he said with a kind of wistful sigh.

The giant was walking with an incredibly smooth gate; gliding. He put a hand to his middle as he spoke, smiling. “We had a pretty intense evening on patrol.”

Yonatan nodded.

Accepting that Sophia’s captor/mentor/best friend regularly ate her was pretty easy. Once the curse was explained. Stupid, extremely unnerving, but not hard to understand. Giants ate people after all, at least evil ones did, and Yonah was an evil giant. What was difficult to wrap his mind around was that Sophia liked it. No. Loved it. She’d been in there for over 8 hours now. And what was he, her brother doing about it?

Sitting casually on Yonah’s shoulder like she was just asleep in her bed! But she was in Yonah’s stomach! That was so WEIRD! The more he thought about it the weirder it got! So he had to stop thinking about it. Not easy when he instinctively looked down from his perch and had a perfect view of the giant's gut. Pleasantly stuffed is how Yonatan might describe it, though it was even more disconcerting that his mind considered it at all pleasant.

He looked forward; They entered the kitchen. But he didn’t really want to think about food now. Of course he didn’t say so, because he knew Yonah would wonder if he was sick. Explaining was out of the question. That meant he would have to force himself to eat whatever the giant served him and hope he could hold it down.

Yonah put him down on the dining table, which had a smaller, human sized table placed on it, and began gathering his supplies.

“HEY! I WANT TO WATCH!” Yonatan shouted. He did not want to be left alone to his thoughts even for a moment.

Shhhh!

Yonah glared at him, pointing to his stomach then his ears “Please, you can be quiet, I can hear you just fine.” He put the prince back on his shoulder.

As soon as Yonah started cooking, all of Yonatan's previous queasiness went away. Sophia had expounded upon the giant’s prowess as a chef but hearing about it and smelling it were two different things.

And eating it was something else entirely.

As soon as everything was on the table Yonatan practically inhaled the food. It was really just scrambled eggs and some sautéed vegetables but the best he’d ever had in his life. Yonah really knew his spices and had precision timing to make the softest eggs. Also… he technically hadn’t eaten since lunch the previous day. Having an anxiety attack takes a lot of energy, so the prince was ravenous.

Though Yonah had made more than enough for himself, he hadn’t gotten himself a plate. He’d turned the stove off and covered the pan with the eggs to keep them warm. What he did get was a cup of morning tea, and one for Yonatan as well, which he poured and cooled off with magic.

“I take it you wont eat-”

“Until your sister wakes? No. -” he chuckled and yet sounded a bit angry about that. He must be hungry too, and having an indigestible weight in his stomach didn’t change that.

“But- the tea?” He took a sip and was unsurprised to find it was unbelievably good. Probably made with magic leaves from the garden.

“She’s not awake to complain about it,” he grinned, taking another sip, as if he would still drink it even if she were.

It did not escape Yonatan’s notice that Yonah was watching him eat with hunger in his eyes. Thankfully his extreme wisdom let him know it was more jealousy, as he continued to shovel eggs into his princely mouth, than a desire to eat him. Though that was there. Maybe someday, but Yonatan was determined to deny the giant for as long as possible.

“So, little prince, what exactly prompted you to come running into my clutches last night?”

The prince swallowed his mouthful of food and took a long drink of chilled apple and blueberry juice which Yonah had gotten from his cold cellar.

“I- Kinda wanted Sophia to be around-” Yonatan looked away, and took another bite of food to stall for another half a minute. “Well- I- I was going through father’s notes and I found something. Something important, about the fate of the kingdom.”

“Now I’m worried I shouldn’t be hearing this,” Yonah said, “You were going through Ben’s notes?”

The prince’s eyes widened, and then he laughed, “HA!” quickly he quieted down remembering his sister- “I do father’s books all the time. He’s taken full advantage of my accursed brain.”

Was that pity in the giant’s face? “Yonah, I’m grateful for the work. It keeps my mind occupied, or I’d be having breakdowns every other day!”

After a moment's consideration Yonah nodded.

“I’m surprised Ben’s brain can’t hold it all, considering it’s got all the power of the Mystic Woods,” Yonah mused.

“The Mystic Woods, for all it is a large entity, doesn’t understand economics or politics, or even the intricacies of the FairyTales it hosts” Yonatan pointed out, again Yonah nodded.

“Anyways,” Yonatan pulled the conversation back on track, “I saw in his notes, some observations. Ones that correlated with Sophia’s escapades in the Woods.”

“And?” Yonah asked, but he had a feeling he knew what Yonatan was about to say.

“And- I could be wrong. But. The forest. It seems to like her, favor her.” He gulped, his voice getting higher and shaky, “Sophia- She. I think she’s already been chosen. As the next Mystic King.”

The wizard’s face darkened and he put a hand over his stomach again, while the other tightened around tea cup. Yonatan was sitting up straight, worried he’d made a terrible mistake. How would you react if you were told your best friend in the whole wide world was going to be someday joined in a magical hivemind, the other member of which was a mysterious and powerful gestalt entity. What if you were suddenly made aware that the next magical King of the kingdom you lived in, was sleeping in your stomach?

“Yonatan,” He growled, but it was breathy. “I am so very glad you did not wait.”

Yonatan refocused, “Wait for what?

“You are lucky Sophia is still asleep in my stomach.”

It was REALLY weird to hear him say it so casually, even if the moment wasn't so casual. Cold sweat beaded on Yonatan’s brow.

“We- Your father and I, we aren’t going to tell her,” he continued.

A million thoughts flooded Yonatan’s brain but one screamed to the surface.

“YOU KNOW?”

Yonah’s eyes shimmered behind his thick spectacles. “Yes. We suspected it almost half a year ago, but confirmed it a few months ago.”

A FEW MONTHS. Now Yonatan couldn’t believe he’d only found out last night. This had been deviously kept out of the reports. No. Wait. There had been changes, exactly 6 months ago, towards more patrols, more missions involving the forest and gauging the response. And more recently, a lot more lessons on the history of the woods and its communities, and how she applied them in her outings. Recently, she’d been learning spells and potions that relied on drawing magic from around her, seeing if the forest would allow its use. And she had no idea she was even doing it. Using magic like the King, but on a much smaller level.

“You’re…” Yonatan looked into Yonah’s eyes to see a few tears had escaped down his cheeks, “You’re training her. Without her knowledge.”

“You’re worried, too” he continued, “That she’s doing to end up like dad, that you’re going to lose her. And!” his mind hit one new thought, great thoughts. “You’re worried that all this work is going to make it worse. Like if only you sabotaged it, she’ll be rejected, or it won’t take as much of her. ”

Yonah stiffened. Right. Wisdom.

The prince stood up and walked over to the giant, and sat on his wrist, patting his arm. Now Yonah was the one shaking. His glasses fogged up, and he tightened his grip on his middle. Yonatan was processing this new information, gathering handfuls of the wizard’s arm hair.

“Yonah,” Yonatan breathed, his heart slowing but lifting considerably “I had no idea you were training her. I freaked out because I too saw Sophia being… taken by The Woods. But Father is... the way he is, well, because to become one with the forest, he had to sacrifice some of his personhood.”

Removing his hand from his stomach before he woke Sophia, he placed it over Yonatan’s knees, and the prince rested a hand over the fingers. A few drops of liquid hit the large knuckles. He must be crying too, but he was smiling so big it hurt.

“Damn my father.” Yonatan chuckled, “You’re training her so she can avoid that fate. She’s becoming part of the forest in advance to joining with its essence.”

He wiped his tears, “Yonah,” he said, and made sure the giant was looking at him through clear lenses, “If you do your job properly, Sophia will be the most powerful King in the history of the Woods. But we won't lose her.”

The giant was smiling too, “I was worried” he sniffed “you stupid perceptive smartass.”

“It’s a blessing. Sometimes,” Yonatan giggled and let the giant scoop him up into a hug.

The hug was a bit tighter than felt safe, but Yonatan didn’t protest. He was grateful the giant held him above his stomach. Beneath him he felt the beating of the giant’s heart. Noticeably quick but along with the prince’s was slowing down.

It had been the right decision to come here after all. Maybe the Woods had called to him somehow, when he figured it out, dragging him out here because he was needed. And he needed this too. If he hadn’t told Yonah, he wouldn’t have known Sophia was being trained, and wouldn’t have figured out what that meant. Yonah would have been left to believe he was training his best friend to become an emotionless vessel.

Then Yonah started and breathed in sharply. He dropped Yonatan onto the table.

“She’s awake. Excuse me,” he said and into the stairwell.

Yonatan couldnt imagine what floor Yonah had gone to but it was clearly nearby as he heard the muffled retching.

Ten minutes later Yonah returned with a smiling Sophia sitting on his shoulder. From Yonah’s now clean shaven goatee he deduced that Yonah had spit her up in the bathroom. Sophia was wearing her day clothes, which she must have slept in, but she was completely immaculate. Not even a hair out of place in her massive braid. She even had on her golden tiara.

“Yonatan!” she hopped off Yonah’s shoulder the moment he was near enough to the table.

She ran up to her brother and embraced him, “When did you get here?”

Yonatan tried very hard not to cry as he held his sister. Her energy was so infectious, her personality so forceful, there was no way she could end up like their dad even if the traininging did nothing. No way. He would not allow it.

“Last night- uh” he said, and opening his eyes he saw Yonah, standing behind Sophia, give him a warning hand motion.

Sophia pulled herself away from her brother but kept her hands on his shoulder, “last NIGHT? Hold on- Why-”

“I got, a bit anxious, you know how it is… And since you well, um- eaten... Yonah helped calm me down.”

Sophia scowled for a moment, not because Yonatan had cuddled up with her giant while she was in said giant's gut, but because Yonah had not woken her! He’d let her sleep without telling her that her brother had ran away from home in panic. Sure he’d been more than capable of handling it, but this was her brother!

“Yes, he is good for that,” she affirmed. Then got distracted as Yonah got out a second set of human sized eating utensils and a set for himself, loading his with the eggs and vegetables.

She let go of Yonatan to snatch her plate and fork from Yonah, and before he’d set his plate down started scooping off a massive but relatively negligible onto hers. He retaliated by eating before she had finished taking her portion. In particular he would scoop away the pieces of vegetables she was carving chunks out of, eating them all. Eventually she managed to get a decent helping of eggs and veggies.

“I'm starving and this smells amazing!” she said, also eating before she’d sat down at the smaller table. Yonatan was a bit impressed she could eat so soon and so easily after being eaten herself. “Ohhh did you roast these with scallops!?”

Mhm, Yonah said though his mouthful of food. “And I used goat’s milk for the eggs.”

“Oh! Why such a treat today?” she asked, taking another bite and savoring it but also eating it quickly because there was plenty more on her plate.

“Well, we have a prince in dining with us!” he said.

Still a little hungry, Yonatan, without asking, but with a bit of a side glance from Yonah, took a second serving of eggs off the giant’s plate. He sat down next to Sophia and poured her some of the apple blueberry juice. And another cup for himself, it was so delicious. Plus it had stayed chilled in the magic pitcher.

Princess Sophia snorted, “Well I'm not complaining!”

The rest of breakfast was pleasant. Yonatan updated Sophia on the goings on back in Orr, and Sophia told him all about her adventures and magic lessons. Sophia was excited to hear all the stupid gossip about the lower nobility. Yonatan had a million questions about each spell and potion she mentioned, which Yonah answered as best he could, going into enough detail for the prince but keeping it brief to not bore Sophia.

“I think I should probably check in with the castle…” Yonatan said a bit sheepishly.

Sophia’s eyes got wide, “Does anyone know where you are?”

Yonatan’s face grew hot, “N-no. I snuck out.”

“You’re going to be in so much trouble!” There was no pity in her voice.

“We can use my mirror,” Yonah said, clearing the table and taking the humans up to the workshop.

There was no need for any rhyme, as Yonatan touched the gold filigree and asked it plainly to connect to His Majesty King Ben. The mirror made a bit of a surprised noise but then turned foggy. It still took a few minutes to connect. Ben’s personal mirror would not show anything until he answered the call, to avoid anyone snooping.

While they were waiting Yonatan decided he didn’t want to face his father and had slowly been inching away. So that when Ben’s torso appeared in the mirror he only saw Sophia and Yonah behind her. Ben looked a little ragged and twitchy, his eyes brighter than normal, beard unshaven, his complexion a bit green, making him look like a tree with a bit of moss starting to grow on it.

“Sophia, darling, is this urgent? We have an emergency, your brother-” Then he stopped, narrowing his eyes.

“Uhuh” Sophia noticed her brother was out of view and motioned to Yonah, who pushed Yonatan to Sophia’s side, she took his shoulders and grinned at her father. “Guess who showed up last night?”

The King’s face was one of instant relief, smiling like he was about to cry. “Yonatan!”

Then his face hardened, his eyes pulsed with power. And Yonatan tensed in anticipation; Sophia squoze his shoulders, and Yonah backed up. They could hear the trees rustling outside. His Mystic Majesty was about to explode.

“YOUNG MAN DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED WE’VE BEEN! I WOKE THE WHOLE CITY! YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!”

~At least it was through a mirror and not in person ~

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phurycursed · 3 years

Text

Coffee Books And Leathers (@carolshade)

PHURY - *Grunting eyes closed as I dung my dagger into the Lesser's heart, the blinding light gone in a flash along with the male. Nothing left behind but an oily patch on the ground and it's black blood splattered across my leathers and tee-shirt. Reflex and training taking over my yellow eyes scanning the alleyway, my hand wiping my black dagger down my thigh. Sliding it back into my chest holder and jogging back onto the street, it was getting close to closing time for shops which meant bars and nightclubs would soon be opening. I had already sent four Lessers back to the Omega, this was shaping up to be a busy night. Texting Rhage letting him know I was on the east side and back tracking my way towards him on the main streets and that I had sent my two trainees to the rooftops. Looking up as a slight rain starts to fall, then turning the corner my eyes going wide at the coffee shop come library on the other side of the street. Looking down at myself, the black blood blending into my all black leather coat, trousers and cotton tee-shirt. Looks like I could pass for ok, smiling to myself as I cross the road and pushing open the door to my kind of heaven.

CAROL - I looked at the watch on the wall noticing it was about time to close for the day. The last group of customers had left a few minutes ago and the tables were already clean as well as the mugs and trays. I was about to start turning the lights off on my way to the front door when said door was pushed open. The doorbell rang and a huge man made his way inside the coffee shop. And I mean HUGE. It amazed me that he could fit through the door. He looked like some kind of biker/warrior. Maybe he was someone from the RP community who liked to dress like his favourite videogame/book/movie character.

Well he also was a customer. So I stopped staring at him, successfully hiding behind a welcoming smile that I found him really handsome, I mean you looked past all that hair and... Were those oil stains all over his clothes? I tried not to frown, it wouldn't be polite, and I said Hi.

"Hello there. Welcome to my coffee shop. What would you like to drink?"

PHURY - *Eyes tracking the female as I step over to her, running my hands through my hair then looking at the menu. The smell of books adding an interesting temptation to the coffee shop* I am going to be very boring and have a black coffee, is it too late to have a wander around your shop? *Hanging my head to the side leaning back a bit to get a better view of both the female and the books just past the counter. Smiling from under my hair my yellow eyes glowing*

CAROL - "Not at all," I replied. My smile turning into a wide grin as I walked behind the counter. "Go ahead and wander around. Choose a spot and I'll take you your boring black coffee. See if you want something to eat as well". Leaned my head to one side looking at you from head to toes and back up again. "You seem like you could use some extra energy", I added holding back my grin.

PHURY - *Steps away my mind already looking at the titles on the shelves, missing a step turning my head back to the female. Reading her again my mind lightly going over hers, yes female just being a good host. But her comment about needing energy was spot on* You know I would murder a sugary treat, could you pick something for me? Something sinful, something that would melt on my tongue. *Nodding at my words then walking to the books, lots and lots of books. Scanning them and letting loose a laugh, pulling Succubus Heat by Richelle Mead and sitting in a big fireside chair near the counter. Flicking through the book remembering the first time I read it, noting that the shelves were stocked classics as well but right now I was taking a break. Pulling out my phone and texting my trainees, keep doing laps of this block while I your lord and master for the night have a coffee with a beautiful female. Dropping my phone on the table as I read a random page*

CAROL - "I will try and surprise you with something", teased you and made myself busy preparing your coffee as I was going through my head thinking what would he possibly like to eat. Side glancing at the guy I covered my mouth muffling my chuckling when I noticed the book you had you had picked out from the shelves. Not in a million years I would have guessed that a guy like him would choose that kind of book. He looked more like 'The Art of War' kind of guy or something about Samurais maybe. Finally deciding that you seemed like you could enjoy and give it a good use to a rush of endorphins, I chose a dark chocolate cake. I cut a big slice, put it on a plate. Placed a tray on the counter and put the big mug of black coffee and the cake and take it to you. Placed the tray on the side table next to your chair and smiled at you. "There you go. Let me know if I chose correctly."

PHURY - *Looking up from the book I had picked, it was hard as the female lead Miss Kincaid was just being manhandled by her ex-ex-boyfriend Roman. I will not speak of her ex-boyfriend Seth. My eyes widening at the sight before me, Putting the book down and almost drooling over the dark chocolate slab of cake* Female what is that! *Not waiting for an answer as I dig in with the fork and placing it into my mouth, moaning out loud as I slowly chew then swallow. Closing my eyes letting the flavour consume me for a moment, opening my eyes my smile wide just stopping short of flashing the human my fangs* You need to tell me your name, I need to know who has brought me heaven in chocolate with books? *Siping the black coffee a perfect bitter taste to go with the sweet chocolate*

CAROL - Gifting you with a playful smirk I decided to grab a near chair and sit in front of you as I felt silly to stay just standing in there. "My name Carol Shade. I own this coffee shop. And that, Stranger-In-The-Night, is a dark chocolate cake. It's basically dark chocolate with with dark chocolate on top of more dark chocolate. It's Heaven on Earth."

PHURY - *Holding out my hand* Miss Carol Shade it is a pleasure to meet you and I am in awe of you. *Looks around smiling* You have a perfect business here. *Putting the book aside and eating some more cake, holding out a fork full my eyes locking onto Carol's* Would you like to taste your own product? *Hearing a text coming through my phone also vibrating on the table beside the tray*

CAROL - I shook his big hand. Mine almost lost in his. But I was starting feeling kind of safe with him here. "Thank you. I love this place. I've put all of my efforts, my savings, my hopes, my dreams, everything in this." I told him looking around as if it was him. It was really a warm cozy place. And everyday I had people coming from different places, some of them really far away. "Are you gonna share your slice of Heaven with me?" I asked him thinking that a harmless flirting was a fun way to end this day.

PHURY - I was but! *Pops the fork full into my mouth, swallowing slowly again moaning* I'm Phury by the way, and you can tell this shop is loved. You can feel it when you walk in. *My phone dinging again as it vibrates, muttering as I pick it up* Sorry I need to answer this. Work. *Pulling up two texts, the first from Rhage. Man is it true you are having a coffee and making your slaves. I mean trainees cover rooftops! Smiling as I answer. Why yes I am relaxing right now with chocolate heaven, be jealous. Opening up the second text from Jonah, one of tonight's trainees. Rooftops clear what next? My fingers a blur as I answer. Keep checking no stopping and I will be back out in a few minutes. Putting my phone down and looking back at Carol* Sorry about that, trainees on tonight, a little unsure of what to do without me.

CAROL - *I stay sat there staring at this strange man. He really is very different for any man I've even seen. Starting for his name. What kind of name is Phury? *frowns then chuckles* Then again I've heard worse than that. And what about his fingers typing so fast? They're like a blur over his cellphone screen. Not even a teenager in love would type that fast. Shakes my head and decides to let it go. It's late and probably the dim lights are playing me tricks* It really sounds like you needed this break if things are the way you say.

PHURY - *Sipping at my black coffee wanting to make the chocolate cake last longer, then smiling at Carol crossing my legs at the knee* Well when being a mentor or teacher you have to expect texts like mine. *Frowns for a moment looking away, my eyes looking out the door I had come in through. I couldn't see the trainees out there but I knew they were doing as told, they were good males, young but good. Turning back to my hostess smiling again, taking another piece of the cake and eating* So I know you are due to close, but I am so glad you were open. I would have hate to have missed your cake and company.

CAROL - *Shakes my head smiling* Oh Don't worry about it. Sometimes I keep the coffee shop open until well past midnight if customers don't seem to want to leave. And I'm always happy to meet new people *nods then offers* Would you like another slice of cake? Trying another thing?

PHURY - *Looks past Carol to the cake display, then back* I am going to take three slices away with me if that is ok? *Drinks the last of my coffee and last piece of cake groaning like a porn star* Damn Miss Carol this is to die for. *Picking up my tray and carrying it to the counter* So can I come by again tomorrow night, I won't be as late as I am off work. That way I can read some more. *Walking back to the table and picking up the book, putting it back onto it's shelf then returning to stand behind the chair I had been sitting in*

CAROL - You can stop by whenever you want *Nods chuckling as I see you taking the tray to the counter. I stand up too and moves the chair to the place where it was before then walks behind the counter again smiling even with my eyes* Do you want the same chocolate cake to go or do you wanna take a risk and let me surprise you again?

PHURY - *Laughs shaking my head* Tomorrow you can surprise me, tonight I need to take what I was eating. I have already told Rhage what I was eating, if I don’t bring him some he will throw a hissy fit and turn into a beast! *Mutters under my breath, ‘Literally’. Pulling out my phone texting Jonah letting them know I was heading back out on patrol. Sending Rhage a text letting him know I was bringing him heaven in a takeout bag. Putting away my phone and pulling out my wallet, holding out my credit card to Carol* So how much do I owe you?

CAROL - Ok. I'm gonna make sure to have some really extra special sweets for you for tomorrow *Takes a cardboard box to put three fat slices of chocolate cake wrapped in a soft tissue, closes the box and puts in a cute little fabric bag and hands it to you along with the bill.

PHURY - *Adding a good tip as I pay up, taking my bag off goodies and walking out. Turning at the door to look back at Carol* Till tomorrow Miss Carol, till tomorrow. #CoffeeBooksAndLeathers (@carolshade)

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