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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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Merlin accidentally becomes Legolas/Katniss/Merida… you know the type;

He may be shitty at sword fighting, but Merlin begins to use a traditional bow and arrow and… actually becomes very good at it??

I imagine the first time he does it, it’s a complete fluke.

The five knights, The King, and Merlin are on their way back from yet another (frankly, ridiculous) quest.

They have been, of course, ambushed by a group of bandits, twenty to their six (six plus Merlin, though no one bar Lancelot knows about his magic, so he isn’t counted as a fighter). Though the knights outweigh them in skill, their sheer numbers makes it a… challenging, fight (meaning that they are winning, but far too slowly for their liking, and no one wants to admit it).

Now normally, Merlin hides behind a tree or in a ditch, and performs his spells quietly without being noticed, slowly helping and speeding up the fight. Except this time, the Gang was in the middle of a barren, open field, the bandits had disguised themselves with magic until the moment they attacked, and Merlin was right in the middle of all the action.

Everyone worried for his safety. There was nowhere for him to hide here, so they had to keep an eye on him, lest he get hurt (and Arthur sulked, or kicked off, depending on how badly he was hurt).

With nowhere to hide (and no branches to drop, or roots to trip people with), and one of the knights throwing a glance his way every ten seconds, he couldn’t use his magic.

He was currently on his hands and knees, Leon directly in front of him, Percival to his left, holding off four attackers between them (Merlin would marvel at how impressive that was if he weren’t otherwise preoccupied).

He keeps trying to get to Arthur, crawling between legs and over the groaning, injured bodies of bandits (he made a point to land sharp elbows and harsh knees into the more… sensitive areas), but with everyone moving around so rapidly, and the vicious swinging of swords and axes and maces inches above his head, he kept getting side-tracked and blocked and almost knocked out.

With a frustrated huff, he notices yet another bandit rounding on The King. Said huff turns into a pained gasp when he realises that Arthur hasn’t seen him yet.

The bandit raises his weapon in the air, seconds from bringing it down on Arthur’s back, but Leon is right there, and there are no branches to drop on him, and Arthur still hasn’t noticed!

The noise is too loud, grunts and yells and clashes of metal drowning out any sort of warning yell that Merlin could throw Arthur’s way, and he scrabbles around on the floor desperately; hands raking through sharp grass and over bloodied bodies as he stares in horror at the triumphant smirk on the future-King-killer’s face.

Time seems to slow (no magic, just adrenaline) as Merlin’s hands find purchase on a smooth, curved piece of wood. He picks it up without looking, at first intending to throw whatever it is as hard as he can in the bandits direction, before something (magic, instincts, periphery vision, who knows) tells him to look down.

He obeys, and widens his eyes as he sees the longbow gripped tightly in his right hand, and a stray arrow on the floor next to his left.

Merlin is no expert, only having actually hunted once or twice back home in Ealdor, when he was younger, but that was just enough knowledge for him to know roughly how to notch the arrow and fire. He pulls the two up quickly, a plan formulating in his head:

Step 1) Notch arrow.

Step 2) Close eyes.

Step 3) Magic? Hope?

Step 4) Come up with some sort of lie that explains how he managed to make the shot from sixty yards away, through a crowd.

Thankfully, it would appear that Merlin’s bad luck has given him a rest today; the first three steps go off without a hitch (the fourth will come a little later, when the battle is over), but he doesn’t have time to congratulate himself before he’s thrown into the fray, the bandits now obviously seeing him as some sort of threat.

Arthur finally defeats his own attackers, looking behind him in shock to see his unknown enemy lying on the floor, gurgling up blood and grasping weakly at the arrow through his neck. His head whips to the side, trying to find whoever had made the shot; his bewildered gaze meets Merlin’s for only a second before the servant is dragged to his feet, and promptly punched in the face.

He stumbles back and can just about hear Leon yell something from beside him but he pays it no mind, righting his balance once again and swinging his arm back, before bringing it down harshly on his newest attackers head. The resounding crack echoes over the field as the wood of the longbow splits in two on the bandit’s skull, and he drops like a sack of potatoes.

The fight doesn’t last much longer, each knight taking advantage of their enemies' fatigue, and Merlin using his now broken longbow to whack them in the shins or trip them up when they weren’t paying attention.

He was sad to see it broken, but two of his closest friends literally owned a blacksmith's, and he had easy access to the Castle’s armoury; he could get a hold of another one easily enough, as long as he survived the journey back home.

The battle finally came to a close. Everyone was exhausted, and each of them was sporting more than one hefty bruise, but they were all alive and there were no serious injuries, so they could be grateful for that. After Arthur had counted his men, and generally taken stock of things, he traipsed tiredly over to Merlin, who had abandoned his broken bow in favour of cleaning a still weeping cut on Elyan’s temple.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Merlin.”

The servant ignores him at first, biting his lip in concentration as he carefully wipes the grime away from the wound. It was small, so an infection wouldn’t be too worrying, but it wouldn’t be comfortable and would make the scarring worse, so best to avoid it if at all possible. He hums in satisfaction as he leans back on his heels, Elyan gives him a grateful smile, and Merlin finally throws a glance Arthur’s way, before focusing back on threading the needle in his hands; it would only need two or three stitches, thankfully:

“Hmm. I'm not fond of hunting, but we had to for food back in Ealdor. Except we didn’t have fancy crossbows or hunting dogs, so we had to make do with hand-whittled longbows.”

Arthur nods, frowning slightly:

“Still, if I’d known you were that good, I would’ve demanded you had a bow of your own; that way us lot wouldn’t have to spend so much time making sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

Merlin smirked and quirked an eyebrow, but doesn’t look away from Elyan’s stitches, whispering an apology at the man’s wince before he speaks slowly, concentrating:

“Careful Sire, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

Elyan snorts out a laugh, but Merlin tuts and lightly slaps his leg disapprovingly, and he stills again. Arthur rolls his eyes with a huff:

“As if. Hurry up, I want to get moving as soon as possible.”

Arthur wasn’t the only one that noticed Merlin’s outstanding shot, and over the course of the next few day’s journey home, he received a multitude of compliments from the other knights.

Including an hour long excited infodump about the history and use of longbows from Leon, which Merlin eagerly hung onto every word of, a fond smile on his face (Leon was a noble, and had it practically beaten into him to not ramble, so Merlin always did his best not to discourage the man. That, and the fact that it was actually very interesting, and useful, if he were to keep up this charade that he was an expert marksman).

When Merlin finally had a moment alone with Lancelot, a few days after they had gotten back, he burst:

“Please please tell me you know how to use a longbow??”

Lancelot raises his eyebrow from where he was sat on the bed in Merlin’s room. Merlin was staring at him with unconcealed desperation, and the knight chuckled as he answered:

“Why? It’s not like you need any more training, that was a cracking shot.”

Merlin huffed loudly, running his hands through his hair as he looked back at the knight:

“I used magic!! I closed my eyes so no one would see and I guided the arrow with magic! Now everyone thinks I’m some master marksman! This is bad. What if next time I can’t use magic, or what if someone notices that I have my eyes closed when I fire?”

Lancelot clamps a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to stop himself from giggling, but he gives up quickly, bursting into laughter at the younger man’s panic. Said younger man fumes, sputtering as he picks up one of the knight’s discarded boots and throws it at him:

“It’s not funny, Lance! I’m being serious, this is an actual issue!”

Lancelot calms himself, rubbing the mirth from his eyes as he takes a deep breath:

“Ok ok, sorry. Yes, I can teach you to use a longbow properly. Have you ever actually used one before, or was the hunting thing a cover?”

The red fades from Merlin’s face slightly as he realises the other man is intending to help him, his panic lessening:

“Sort of. Yeah, I went hunting with a bow a couple times, but not enough to be that good at it.”

Lancelot sighs fondly and nods his head:

“Well, that’s a start at least. Come on, I’ve not got patrol until after dinner, and Arthur thinks you’re busy helping Gaius, so we’ve got a few hours.”

So I imagine that’s how it goes for a while.

After their last big adventure, Arthur was reluctant to head out as a group again, wanting to give everyone time to recuperate and get back into the swing of things.

Merlin’s skills with a bow were bought up constantly by everyone, news had even reached Gwen (who gave him a proud smile and a cute little dance to congratulate him) and Gaius (who raised an eyebrow, and had much better skill than Lancelot at holding in his laughter).

Gwaine, Elyan, and even Percival were desperate to set up targets and watch him shoot shit (their words), Leon wanted to talk about the specifics of technique and crafting, and Arthur... well. Arthur sounded like he was taking the piss, but there was something else in his tone that Merlin couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Affection? Pride?

Probably not, probably jealousy and annoyance that Merlin is so effortlessly good at something that Arthur himself was average at at best.

Merlin manages to avoid it for a while, showing his “skills” off, but he and Lancelot are running out of excuses, and Arthur is starting to accuse him of being a fake who got lucky. Normally, things like that didn’t bother Merlin, and technically Arthur wasn’t wrong... he had got lucky, and cheated with magic, but that wasn’t the point. It was nice for Merlin, to be good at something, really good.

He was good at plenty of other things. Magic for starters, though not even Lancelot knew the full extent of his power in that area. But he cooked well (shown by the fact that the knights always scoffed the lot), he was a good physician (shown by the fact that the knights trusted him just as much as Gaius when it came to treating injuries and sickness), and he was a BRILLIANT servant, if he did say so himself.

But he never got any actual praise for that. Merlin hated to think badly of the knights, his friends, but they only complained when Merlin wasn’t there, never praised him when he was. Well, apart from Lancelot. And that had just started a bunch of rumours that they were... uh... boinking.

(False. Anyone with more than two braincells could see that Sir Lancelot was head over heals in love with the newly-promoted Housekeeper, Guinevere, and that The King’s Manservant had an affinity for certain a blond prat-King.)

ANYWAY

It was nice for Merlin to have a skill that others thought worth complimenting, and with Lancelot monitoring his practice sessions, correcting any mistakes and offering congratulations whenever he did well, he hoped it wouldn’t be too long before he no longer had to come up with excuses.

Luckily, Merlin picked it up very quickly.

Despite being clumsy by nature (though Lancelot is starting to suspect more and more that it’s all for show), the dark haired servant can consistently hit bullseyes from fifty yards within a month. The further away from the target he got, the less astounding his aim was, but that was to be expected, and another month later he could successfully hit a moving target from seventy feet.

A training session, around three months after he started properly practicing, he finally “gave in” to Gwaine’s begging. Lancelot helped him set up a bunch of targets, and fetched a bag of apples to throw.

Merlin put on quite the show, grinning at the uproarious applause he got from the knights when he hit every single bullseye, and every single thrown target. Thankfully the knowing, proud smiles between the servant and Sir Lancelot went unnoticed, and even Arthur gave him a clap on the back and an impressed nod.

The first time Merlin met the knights in the courtyard to find Leon holding a longbow and quiver of arrows out to him, he panicked slightly, but one reassuring smile from Lancelot boosted his confidence, and he took them with a quiet thank you.

(After the fifth time, Arthur huffed, and told him to just keep them. He was the only one that regularly signed them out of the armoury anyway, so it would just be easier if he just took possession of them.)

It settled everyone’s stomachs, knowing that not only did the group have a master marksmen, hiding in the trees and taking out enemies that they didn’t see coming, but that Merlin personally now had more than his frankly horrifying (or... horrifying as far as they were concerned) stealth skills to keep him safe.

And that (a master marksmen in the trees) is exactly what happened.

In the early days, it involved a lot of bruises; Merlin could fire well, but firing and balancing at the same time? Took some getting used to, and involved a lot of falling out of trees at inopportune times.

The knights, Gwaine and Arthur especially, laughed endlessly at that, but quickly stopped after a particularly tired and irate and bruised Merlin fired an arrow so close by Gwaine’s crotch, that it stuck his trousers fast into the tree just behind him.

At first, it was meant to be just as back-up; Merlin was no knight. He still refused to wear armour, and Arthur didn’t want his manservant to make himself a target... at least that was his excuse.

Really, it was because (as far as Arthur was aware) Merlin had never deliberately killed before. Even now, years into his Kingship, and even longer into his knighthood, Arthur hated killing; it made him sick, and took a lot of practice at compartmentalization before it no longer bothered him as much.

Merlin was his manservant, his (best) friend, the love of his life (secretly). He was not a warrior, he was not meant to kill, he was meant to be protected from that.

But alas, Merlin did not get the memo, and the first patrol he went on with his bow and quiver slung over his shoulder, he killed at least five bandits.

After the fight, it was Leon who approached him first, a concerned look on his face despite Merlin’s nonchalant expression as he checked over the string for wear and tear:

“Are you feeling alright, Merlin? You got a few good shots in there, you’re not feeling sick?”

Merlin looked up at the hand on his shoulder and the soft words, a confused look on his face:

“Why would being good make me feel sick?”

Leon tilts his head in sympathy, which just makes Merlin even more confused:

“The man you killed the other month was spur of the moment, protecting your King. But you... you killed a fair few men today, Merlin. I know that can be incredibly difficult at first, I just wanted to check in.”

The others had finally walked over to join them; Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, and Arthur looking equally concerned, whilst Lancelot hid his proud smile. Merlin just raised an eyebrow at them:

“You seem to be under the impression that I’ve never killed anyone before?”

Everyone (bar Lancelot) looks taken aback at that, and Arthur frowns whilst Leon drops his hand in shock. The King speaks slowly:

“Merlin, are you telling us you’ve killed people before?”

The manservant clenches his jaw at that and looks back down at his bow, resuming his checking of the string and its knots. He speaks lowly, and the knights can tell it’s not a topic he’s fond of:

“Hmm. It’s a tough world, Sire. I’ve done what I had to, to keep myself and the people I care about safe.”

At his dark reply, conversation stopped, and didn’t resume for the rest of the day as everyone contemplated Merlin’s words.

That is, until he was the first one to successfully catch dinner later that evening. At which he got an incredulous look from Arthur when he made it back to camp with his half of the patrol:

“I thought you despised hunting??”

Merlin didn’t look up from the hares he was skinning, and the rest of the knights tuned in, curious:

“No. I hate hunting for sport; it shows hubris and cruelty. Hunting for food is not only necessary and natural, but humbling, if you do it right and honour every part of the creature.”

Arthur, ever the eloquent one, stared at him blankly, and said, rather dumbly:

“...What?”

Merlin huffed, finally looking up:

“Going after helpless animals on horseback with crossbows and hunting dogs is like giving yourself a huge pat on the back for winning a tournament against an unarmoured, unarmed, unconscious opponent, and then calling yourself strong and brave for daring to fight in the first place. It’s an egotistical act of violence for no other reason than cruelty for the sake of cruelty.-”

The knights looks on him with shock, Percival and Leon at least having the decency to look a little ashamed. Merlin looks back down to the hares, and everyone notices the careful way he cuts at the fur:

“I’ve taken these lives to feed us as a necessity. The meat will be eaten, but that isn’t all. I’ll take the bones home for Gaius, the marrow is useful in a lot of medicine. The fur can be repurposed for winter gloves or socks. The organs and other bits that we won’t eat: I’ll take for the pigs in the farms, or the dogs up at the castle. In using every part of them we are... honouring them, in a way. As a thank-you for their... sacrifice.”

Arthur looks a little dumbfounded. As royalty, he of course had never really considered the waste that comes about with hunting, but Merlin, a farm-boy from a rural village who barely scraped by every winter? Of course he saw a deeper meaning in hunting. He would have to.

Elyan is the first to break the silence:

“You almost sound religious, Merlin.”

Merlin looks up at him, a strained smile on his face. As magic incarnate, he has a particularly strong, temperamental relationship with nature and her creatures, a bond that some might call faith. To be wasteful or cruel in any way hurts him in more ways than one:

“Not really, I just have respect for nature, is all.”

No one mentions the thinly-veiled insult, but everyone creeps closer, wanting to see the way he disassembles the creatures for future reference.

It’s been eight months since that first, perfect shot.

Merlin’s skills with a longbow had become a normal, expected part of The Gang’s experiences, but the knights never stopped praising and thanking him when he saved their lives (something that Merlin still hadn’t quite gotten used), and The King had apparently not stopped thinking about it for barely more than a second.

Yule was approaching quickly: Merlin, Gwen, and the Steward being constantly busy with preparations in the castle, the knights being run off their feet escorting emergency aid to the border villages for the harsh winter, and Arthur himself having every minute of the day taken up with speech writing, invite sending, and his other general King-during-Yule duties.

That however, was all to be expected, and of course did nothing to keep Arthur and Merlin from their annual traditions.

It wasn’t official, it wasn’t even spoken of, but the last evening of Yule, the night before the new year, the two of them always spent together.

The last feast of the year would finish, Arthur would stay to see his guests off, thank the staff for all of their hard work, and finally retire to his chambers, his tired manservant barely a hair’s breadth behind him. They would sit in front of the lit hearth (in comfy chairs that only they used), work their way through a jug or two of wine, exchange small gifts, and fall asleep in front of the fire. Their hands, dangling over the side of their chairs, seem to be creeping closer and closer with each passing year; though have yet to become entangled by morning.

This year was somehow no different, and very different, at the same time.

The King and his Manservant settled in their chairs, tired and already a little more than tipsy from the wine drunk during the feast. Arthur looked up at Merlin, the fond smile dropping from his face when he sees the other man’s features pulled into a contemplative frown:

“What’s on your mind, Merls? I don’t think I’ve seen you this serious since the start of the celebrations.”

Merlin looked up at him suddenly, his eyes wide, but he smiles and shakes his head:

“Nothing, nothing. Just thinking is all.”

Normally, Arthur would raise an eyebrow and let a scathing tease on the state of Merlin’s intelligence fall from his lips, but not tonight. This is the only night of the year that The King allows himself to entertain the idea that perhaps he and Merlin were more than friends, or at least could be. So instead he resumes his smiling, and looks back to the fire, taking another sip of his wine before responding softly:

“What about?”

Merlin hums, copying Arthur’s wine-sipping, before taking a deep breath:

“The future, mostly. You, me, Camelot. Secrets and truths, and when one might turn into the other. Soon, I think... yeah. Soon.”

Arthur huffs slightly in amusement. He knows that Merlin hides a great deal of himself, but he always becomes more cryptic after a few glasses of wine, like he desperately wants to say something and doesn’t have the power to stop himself from hinting at whatever it may be.

He asks his next question good-naturedly, a smile sweetened by wine gracing his face:

“The hell does that mean?”

Merlin lets out a short laugh, looking up at the other man:

“Oh, you know. Thinking about spilling all my deepest darkest secrets to you, at some point soon.”

Arthur snorts, saying, only for the sake of keeping up the charade they’ve built:

“You don’t have any secrets, Merlin. Certainly not any that are deep or dark.”

Once, Arthur would have believed that. Then, when he stopped believing it, he was angry about it, and now? Now, he finds he doesn’t mind so much. He is confident, he has faith, in both himself and in Merlin. He knows that those secrets are there, and Merlin knows that he knows, but that’s ok. Nothing either of them could reveal would tear them apart, at least not for long, so Arthur was happy to wait until Merlin was happy to share.

Merlin chuckled at Arthur’s response, shaking his head slightly before reaching down and picking up a small wrapped parcel that he’d stowed away before the feast:

“Come on, I’m a little nervous about your gift this year, so let’s get it over and done with.”

Arthur nodded, accepting the change in subject, and set his wine down so he could pick up the (much bigger) parcel by his own chair.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. After the first gift-exchange happened, Merlin had put his foot down and made Arthur swear to not go overboard on the expense side of things. Arthur may have been a prince, and now a King, but Merlin was still just a servant/physician; he could hardly afford anything worthy of a King.

He had a feeling that Arthur might’ve broken his word this year, but where Arthur had likely gone overboard with expense, Merlin had definitely gone overboard with sentimentality.

They swapped parcels, Merlin placing the large, heavy box carefully at his feet as he gestured Arthur to open his first. Arthur got to it, tearing the paper off without a second of hesitation, and Merlin allowed himself to smile fondly at the child-like excitement on the blonde’s face.

Arthur’s brow creased as he dropped the paper to the floor, stroking soft fingers over the worn leather of an old, well-loved book. Merlin took deep, fortifying breaths as Arthur carefully opened the first few pages, butterflies in his stomach as Arthur’s eyes wandered the yellowed paper in curiosity.

The King looked up at him, amused confusion on his face as he asked:

“Is this yours? I didn’t know you could draw, Merlin.”

Merlin gulped, and shook his head as memories of the exquisite sketches filled his mind; detail-perfect renditions of the castle, the town square, waterfalls and knights in action and people that Merlin didn’t recognise (for the most part. Arthur evidently hadn’t gotten to any of the pages with young Uther on them).

“No, not mine. This one requires a little explanation-”

Arthur nodded, carefully closing the book and holding it protectively in his lap as he gave Merlin his undivided attention:

“-I mentioned off-handedly to Leon a few months ago that I thought the lack of... of paintings of the late Queen in the castle was odd.-”

Arthur gulped at the mention of his mother, but nodded with a small smile when Merlin paused:

“-He said that when she passed, The King had everything to do with her moved to the vaults. He couldn’t force himself to destroy any of it, but looking at it, day in and day out, was too painful. We found the keys, with the help of Geoffrey, and went down to have a look, see what we could find. We didn’t tell you about it because we didn’t want to disappoint you, in case we couldn’t find anything.-”

Merlin once again looked a little nervous at this, and reached a hand out towards Arthur. When the man didn’t flinch away (if anything, he leaned into it), he moved to grip his shoulder blade, running his thumb over the exposed skin at the base of The King’s neck.

“-We found... a lot. Old clothes and paintings mainly, some jewellery. But then I found that;-”

He nodded at the book in Arthur’s lap, and tightened his grip on his shoulder. Merlin spoke his next words so quietly that Arthur almost doesn’t hear him, a soft smile on his face:

“-your mother was quite the artist, Arthur. I knew you had to have it.”

Arthur gasped softly, his eyes widening as he looked down at the book:

“You... you think my mother drew these?”

Merlin smiled at him, moving his hand to squeeze Arthur’s wrist slightly, before dropping it entirely:

“Check the back page.”

Arthur took a deep breath before doing what Merlin said, handling the book with even more care than he had before now that he knows who it belonged to. He turned to the very last page, to see an inscription written in beautiful cursive. Merlin recited it aloud, having memorised the words weeks ago:

“My dearest son, my silly sketches are able to hold only a fraction of our Kingdom’s beauty. I know one day that you will see what I see, treasure it just as much, and make it your own. You have my support, forever and always, your loving Mother.”

Arthur bites his lip harshly, lifting the book to press his forehead against the words as he shuts his eyes tightly, though that does nothing to stop the tears. Merlin replaces his hand on The King’s shoulder as the man shakes. He sniffles slightly, putting the book back in his lap, though keeping his hands wrapped around it securely, as he looks to Merlin:

“Merlin, I... I don’t even know what to say. This is... amazing. I... Thank you.”

Merlin smiles, shaking his head slightly:

“Technically, it wasn’t even mine to give, it’s always been yours. But I thought it might make a nice surprise. There’s plenty of other stuff down there, I’ll show you in the morning.”

Arthur nods his head, wiping his tears as he carefully places the book on his side table and gestures to the box at Merlin’s feet. He was itching to scour through the book, dedicating every single line to memory, but whilst Merlin had been nervous about Arthur’s gift, Arthur was buzzing about Merlin’s, and he was desperate to see the man’s reaction.

Merlin huffs out a laugh, but picks the box up, noting once again how heavy it is. He sets about removing the paper, much calmer and more methodical than Arthur had been, with his face pinched in concentration.

He frowns in curiosity as he sets eyes on the wooden box. It had a hinged lid, and a logo that he’s certain he recognises burned like a brand into the corner. He can feel Arthur bouncing in his chair slightly, and looks up at him in amusement, laughing once again when he nods excitedly back down at the box.

He lifts the lid, and takes in a shocked breath.

Inside was a beautifully crafted long bow; the wood smooth and varnished and carved, and a leather quiver. The patterns embossed in the leather and carved in to the metal at the base, match those carved into the wood of the bow, and Merlin traces soft fingers over the intricate swirls, stopping with a teary smile at the Pendragon crest, carved just next to a Merlin bird.

He lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding as he looks up at the excited King:

“Arthur this is beautiful. Gods I almost don’t want to touch it, I feel like it should be on display behind glass.”

Arthur lets out a laugh, obviously pleased with Merlin’s reaction:

“Nope. It will be going with you every time you leave the city, and considering how much trouble we always seem to attract, I have no doubt that it will see a lot of use.”

Merlin laughs, closing the lid carefully and setting the box back on the floor, before launching himself bodily at Arthur. The blonde laughs, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s middle with no hesitation as the other man mutters endless thank-yous in his ear.

The servant finally pulls back, settling in his own chair again, and the two of them hope that the other puts the flush on their face down to the wine, and nothing else. They look to each other with wide grins on their faces, and Arthur breaks the stare first, taking another gulp of his wine before laughing jovially and speaking:

“Well. Here’s to an amazing year, and hopefully an even better one, starting in a few minutes.”

Merlin nods, lifting his own goblet to tap it against Arthur’s:

“Here’s to the past, that guides us-”

He gestures to the book on Arthur’s table:

“-and the future, that calls to us.”

He gestures to his new bow, and they both finish their wine off, a healthy flush to their cheeks and fond smiles on their faces.

They fall asleep in their respective chairs, the same as every year.

In the morning, they wake with pounding headaches, a promise of a golden future, and hands intertwined.

THE END!!

We love a cutesy/hopeful ending😌

Like always lads, you wanna write it out in full, go for it, credit and tag me✌️

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abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years

Text

Daring - Chapter 2

This is part two of my Abby Mordern!Au, you can read Chapter 1 here.

Masterlist

Abby and the reader have dinner at Abby's place. There is music playing and referenced, so I'd recommend you listen to this playlist with all the songs playing in order as soon as the date night begins. About 10k words.

CW for alcohol consumption, mention of death/murder, mention of dubious consent (and possibly terrible grammar. It's 10pm, I just finished this, I don't have a proofreader atm)

Thyme and Tree Bark

“Don’t mess this up, airhead. Take care!”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, idiot!”

You closed the door behind Mark as he vanished down the stairs and headed straight for your bed. Though you were less wobbly on your feet after devouring half of a perfectly cheesy pizza with just the right amount of jalapenos, it had thrown you straight into a food coma. Your angel of a brother had come over at noon with two chilled cans of coke and a large pizza from your favorite Italian place and not even ripped open the curtains as he usually did. Instead, he had thrown himself on the bed right next to you, handed you a slice, and demanded you start talking.

Of course, he already knew about Abby and your embarrassing shyness when it came to the buff blonde, so he was extremely proud of the progress you had made with your excruciating crush. You both agreed that Abby had definitely invited you over for a date this week - alone, without Manny there - and that it had to mean she was interested, too. He had laughed about the little bar stint when Abby had shut down your flirt with the hot waitress in an instant and was now 100% sure this was going to go great. As long as you kept it together and didn’t ruin everything. As you often did. This needed some tactical planning.

Mouths full of cheesy delight and laughing at each other’s stupid ideas, you and your brother had come up with a fairly foolproof plan. You would text Abby in 1-2 days, keeping it cool and asking when you should come over. Then, you would suggest making cocktails at home, already granting a fun activity and something to loosen the mood. You would keep it casual and bring over some nice liquor and maybe a bag of chips, perfect for watching a movie. You’d try to keep the conversation casual and try to speak mostly about Abby, asking lots of questions so you didn’t get tangled up in speaking about yourself. If you steered the conversation toward movies, you could watch something exciting and maybe even scary together so you could cuddle up on the couch together. And well, if you got that far, things would probably fall into place naturally. Foolproof. Y/N-proof.

You groaned as you reached over to grab your phone from your nightstand. You had a message from your mom asking if you wanted to come over for dinner next weekend and an email from your professor who wanted to submit your last essay to some kind of grant application. You’d have to answer her later, your head still felt like it was filled with cotton. Instead, you sent Leah a message.

-Hey, you still alive? There’s leftover pizza and coke over here.

Five seconds later, there was a delighted squeal at the other side of the wall and you heard the click of your roommate’s door before yours opened and Leah tiptoe-danced inside, beaming at you. She was wearing nothing but an extremely tight-fitting cropped wifebeater and a khaki thong, accentuating her long legs as she leaped right onto your bed and almost made you fly as her weight hit the mattress. You tried not to stare at her perfectly toned abs as she opened the gigantic carton and held up a slice of pizza over her head, letting the tip dangle in her mouth before biting down with a moan that made you snort awkwardly.

“Good morning, you animal.”

Leah just moaned again, making a grabbing motion with her hand and pointing toward the second can of coke on your nightstand. You laughed silently as you handed her the cold can, condensed water running down the sides and wetting your fingers. You wiped them on the blanket. The tall brunette swallowed hard and took a sip of coke.

“Good morning, womanizer.” She grinned widely. “I’m so proud of you, man. This is the first time I’ve seen you in action and I can safely say Abby was just as surprised as I was.”

You buried your face in your hands.

“Oh god, was I that obvious? Did I do anything inappropriate? I thought it went well, but now I’m not so sure.” You spread your fingers to peak at your roommate who was currently chewing on a ginormous bite, tomato juice running down her chin. No manners, that girl. She just shook her head and made a noise somewhere between protest and encouragement.

“No, you were fine,” she said with a full mouth, “very tipsy, but cute. I hope you remember Abby inviting you to her place.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

You ran your fingers through your hair, immediately getting stuck in a tangle of knots. God, you needed a shower.

“Yeah, I already went over it with Mark. We made a plan so I won’t embarrass myself.”

“Good. I hope it goes well, you two would be cute together. Hot, even. I mean, no one can deny the allure of those biceps. And her ass?! Godly.” She easily evaded the kick you aimed at her ribs, laughing and slapping your shin away.

“Come on, let’s not act like you’re not ogling her every chance you get. I am, too - the woman looks like a greek goddess!”

“That’s enough,” you giggled, aiming another playful kick in her direction but only lightly hitting her in the thigh. “I know what she looks like.”

“Right. And soon, you’ll hopefully see a lot more of her.” This time, Leah jumped off the bed before your toes could sink right into her side. You tried to suppress a grin as you two stared at each other for a moment before Leah sat back down cross-legged and began eating the last slice of pizza.

“I mean,” she said casually, “you have seen more of a woman before, right?”

You grabbed your coke and turned it in your hands before answering.

“Yeah, I have. It wasn’t… It wasn’t all that, though. Just one time and we were both so nervous it was just awkward.”

Now Leah looked at you with a mixture of shock and pity.

“Come on, Y/N. Only once? You’ve never seen stars because of a woman’s tongue? Never screamed into a pillow because of some skilled sapphic strap game? Never lost your mi-”

“Leaahhhh!” You groaned, feeling blood shoot into your cheeks. “No, okay? I… I made the other girl cum, but for me, it was just… it was too unfamiliar and I didn’t know her well enough to really let myself enjoy it.”

Suddenly a thought crossed your mind and you felt your eyes open wide.

“Wait. Has Abby…? Is she..?”

Leah paused mid-bite and thought for a second.

“Well, she does have experience with men, obviously. As far as women go… I honestly don’t know. She’s dated a few, but it never went longer than a couple of weeks. I don’t know how fast things go with her and she’s never gone into detail with me. I have to ask Nora about that.”

“Don’t you dare! She’ll know this is about me and tell Abby!”

“Oh come on, I’m interested, too.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you so you know what to prepare for, win-win!” She nudged your foot and gave you a mischievous half-smile.

“For god’s sake, do what you must.” You finished your coke and threw it perfectly into the bin beside your desk. Leah gave you an impressed nod. “And now I desperately need a shower. There is a literal nest on top of my head.”

“True,” Leah said and stood up, stretching her limbs as she walked to the door. “Thanks for the pizza. I’m gonna ask Jordan if he wants to come over, so don’t walk out naked if you don’t want a threesome.” She winked at you before closing the door, but a small part at the back of your brain knew that she wasn’t completely joking. You sighed and swung your legs off your bed. No point in lying around, it was past 3 pm anyway.

Grabbing your phone, a shirt, and some clean boxers, you headed for the bathroom. You took your time showering, detangling the mess on your head with lots of conditioner, humming along to Marika Hackman’s cover of I Follow Rivers as you stood under the hot stream of water and brushing your teeth for at least five minutes while waiting for a hair mask to do its magic. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was filled with hot steam and you felt like a whole new person. You slipped into your fresh clothes and held the blow dryer to the mirror until your reflection was clear.

So. Here you were. Finally, you had spoken to the woman of your dreams and even flirted with her. She may have even been jealous of your short conversation with Ellie, the bartender. Tomorrow, you would text her, you would be brave and cool and not at all awkward. As you collected your clothes off the floor and took your phone, you suddenly realized something that would destroy your entire plan. You didn’t even have Abby’s phone number. Why hadn’t you asked her? Of course, you could ask Leah for it, but Abby would know because she knew she hadn’t given it to you. It would be a lot less cool and casual. Fuck.

You stepped into the hallway and ran straight into Jordan. Perfect. Good thing Leah had warned you.

“Oh, hi Y/N! You doing alright after all those tequila shots?” Jordan’s face was open and kind. You immediately relaxed. Just a guy, not a threat.

“Better than I thought I would, actually. What about you?”

“Well, I sent them back out the way they came as soon as I got home.” He grimaced and shrugged. “Just glad I’m still alive, to be honest.”

You had to laugh. “I’m glad, too. Leah would have been devastated.”

“I hope so.” He grinned back. The silence between you stretched a little bit too long.

“Anyways, I’m gonna see what she’s up to. See you later?”

“Yeah, sure!” You said, relieved that he didn’t make it awkward. You quickly slipped into your room and sank down on the bed, composing a text to Mark.

-Minor hiccup - I don’t have her number.

His reply came immediately.

-Shit. What now?

You let yourself fall back on the mattress and covered your face with your arm. Your phone vibrated again and you lifted it up, hoping for a brilliant idea.

-Hey, this is Abby. Are we still on for next week?

You almost dropped your phone on your face. For a minute, you just stared at the message. Then you rolled over onto your stomach and screamed into your pillow.

-Hi Abby. We absolutely are. Y/N.

You tried to suppress a fit of giggles as you texted your brother.

-Nvm, she just texted me.

-Omg what!! Play it cool, don’t answer yet. What did she say???

-Oops already answered. Still on for next week.

-Incredibly casual lol. Whatever, good for you!

-Shut up!

Another text by Abby came in and you actually started drumming your feet on the bed with excitement.

-Tuesday? I could cook for us

-Very impressive, I’ll bite. What time should I come over?

-Very clever. 6pm? Any allergies?

-Vegetarian, hope that’s okay. 6 is great, text me your address?

You watched the little text bubble pop up and vanish again for a good minute, getting more and more nervous for her answer.

- No problem. 2425 Constance.

There was nothing else to do but scream into your pillow again.

The next two days went excruciatingly slow. You spent the rest of your Sunday in bed, watching a terrible zombie movie and later ordering curry because you couldn’t be bothered with preparing any food. As it got late, you suddenly heard a knock on the wall. At first, you thought it was accidental, until the knocking started to continue in a steady rhythm. With a death glare that you hoped would reach through the concrete, you plugged your headphones into your laptop and continued watching your movie.

On Monday, you threw yourself into art history coursework and caught up on your studies, emailed your professor, and spent three hours on an essay about the depiction of blood in paintings of Judith beheading Holofernes. Lovely subject. Even though you got through a lot of your tasks for the day, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at your phone every 10 minutes to see if you had missed a message. Of course, nothing came up. Around 4 pm, your phone buzzed and you leapt for it only to find out it was Leah asking you to buy toilet paper later. At 6pm, you shut off your laptop and grabbed your backpack to go grocery shopping.

Standing in the liquor store you realized you hadn’t asked Abby about cocktails.

“Looking for something in particular?” the elderly lady behind the counter asked. It seemed to be her own shop and to have been hers for a while, judging by the elegant wooden shelves and the warm, nice feeling of the room instead of neon lights and rows of white metal.

“Uh, yeah, actually. I have a date tomorrow and I thought we could make cocktails, but I forgot to ask what she likes. So now I don’t know what to bring.” You gave her an apologetic half smile. She stood up from her seat behind the register, growing not even 2 inches standing compared to sitting and made her way over to you. Her eyes twinkled behind thick glasses that made her look a little bit like an owl.

“Well, dear. I don’t know if I would go straight into the hard liquor on a first date. On my last first date, we had a delicious red wine, a Merlot. Couldn’t that be something? Are you going to eat anything?”

“Oh yes, she said she’d cook for us, but I don’t know what exactly.”

The shop owner gently put a hand on your arm and guided you to a shelf of dark bottles.

“Well, Merlot goes well with any food, so I think it would be perfect. Cocktails come later, when you dress up and go out together or after a night of theater.” You felt a surge of warmth spread through your chest. Theater? Well, why not? For a second, you began to trail off, imagining Abby in a perfectly tailored suit, you at her arm just as dressed up, every head turning as you entered the room and ordered Gin Tonics at the bar during the break. The voice next to you pulled you back to the present.

“If you’re cooking at home, wine is the thing to bring, trust me.”

“I trust you,” you said with a smile as you took the bottle she handed you. The label was a creamy white, with beautiful golden letters. Hopefully this wouldn’t bankrupt you. “Thank you for your help.”

The shopkeeper sat back down in her chair with a sigh and typed into the cash register. 15.99$. That wasn’t so bad. You paid and gently put the bottle inside your backpack.

“You know, you should come by soon and let me know how it went. I think that Merlot will bring you good luck. My wife and I still have it every Sunday.” Your head snapped up and your eyes met that charming, smart twinkle again, flashing at you out of dark brown irises. For a moment, all of the things you wanted to say were stuck in your throat, then you just broke into a smile.

“That’s wonderful, ma’am. I hope I can have that, in the future.”

“Of course you will, dear.” She really sounded like she meant it. A small lump suddenly appeared in your throat.

“Thank you so much. I wish you all the best.”

“Go get her!”

You laughed and waved at her again as you exited the shop, taking the warmth and comfort of it with you and tucking it right beneath the bottom of your heart and the top of your stomach where you knew it would fuel you for a few days. You had already decided that you would come back and make it your mission to befriend that old lady. What a wonderful woman.

Only 23 hours to go. That night, it was almost impossible to fall asleep.

You got through the next day by once again banning any thought of the evening from your mind and diving head first into your assignments. You were going to lead a discussion on different planes of language or communications in women’s art and literature and reading up on the historical differences between male and female narratives, beginning with the ancient poet Sappho. It was an exciting topic, something you were extremely thankful for. Otherwise you might have been looking at your phone every 3 minutes instead of every 20. Of course, no message from Abby.

The bottle of wine was standing on your nightstand, reminding you of your plans with an exciting tingle in your stomach. At 4pm, you gave up on doing anything productive. You spent forever in the shower, stealing some of Leah’s expensive pink body scrub, shaving everywhere and regretting it immediately because you felt stupid for assuming anything, entertaining the but what if thoughts while you thoroughly lathered your entire body in Leah’s shampoo and shower gel and spending a good 10 minutes just standing under the hot water because you weren’t ready to leave that fantasy yet. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was an actual steam bath and you could hardly see the door through the thick waves of wonderfully scented fog. You took your time stealing some more of Leah’s skincare products, having come to the conclusion that if she noticed anything and scolded you for it, you might as well try out the whole arsenal.

When you finally opened your closet door, feeling luxurious and clean and fresh, it was 5.10pm. What the hell were you going to wear? You and Mark had agreed on casual, but what the hell did that even mean? You decided to ask him.

-Help!!! Freaking out over my outfit, need a definition for casual

-Jeans and T-Shirt, just your standard outfit. Imagine meeting me for sushi.

-I’m bringing red wine. It seems wrong to bring wine in jeans and a t-shirt..

-What happened to cocktails?? Trust me, keep it simple. You don’t wanna turn up in a dress and she opens the door in sweatpants.

-I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in sweatpants. Ughh fuck I don’t have time for this. Jeans and t-shirt it is. Lesbian grandma recommended wine, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow x

-Go get her x

You quickly slipped into some black jeans that were just the right amount of tightly fitting around your ass and a white shirt with a tiny pomegranate embroidered on the front. Then you put on your jacket and quickly threw your wallet, phone and keys into a tote before grabbing the wine and putting it in as well. With a last look into the hallway mirror and a yelled goodbye to Leah, you rushed out of your apartment.

The evening air was not as cool as you had expected and the sun was just about to set. On your way to the train station, you typed out an on my way! message to Abby and quickly deleted it again. No sense in sending it now when you hadn’t spoken since Sunday and were about to see her. The train ride was annoying, the wagon stuffed with commuters and some guy trying to convince you the apocalypse was upon you all. Zombies, not the last judgement - something different at least.

During the walk from the station to Abby’s house, you were sure it wouldn’t take much more for you to actually start levitating. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your throat was so cramped up it was hard to breathe. When you pulled out your phone, your fingers were actually shaking. Jesus Christ, get a grip. 5.58 pm.

And there it was, 2425 Constance. Just a normal suburban white house, like any other in the street. It actually seemed a bit weird, Manny and Abby living here in the midst of what seemed to be a family neighborhood with real adults . Then again, they both weren’t in college, so you supposed they actually were real adults. When you walked up to the front door, you could hear faint music from inside - jazz? You wouldn’t have guessed she was the jazz type, but then again you knew almost nothing about her. Right. Ask questions, keep the conversation about her. Be cool.

You knocked.

Abby opened the door, a wave of warm air hitting you from inside. It smelled delightful. Her face was slightly flushed, her lips parted as she took in a deep breath. She had tied her hair back in a low bun, but a few strands had fallen out and framed her face. One was standing up in a funny angle.

“Hi, Abby,” you said, trying to keep your voice level and not stare at her body. Fuck, she had dressed up. And she looked hot.

“Hi!” A smile slowly grew wide on her face. When she realized that she was blocking the door, she quickly shook her head and stepped aside. “Come in! Can I take your jacket?”

Oh God, this was hopeless. You already knew you were hers. Thanking her, you took off your jacket and she hung it in a closet next to the entrance. When she turned around, you got a chance to admire her fully. She wore wide dress pants that perfectly accentuated all of her muscles, topped with a loose white shirt with wide sleeves, reminding you a little bit of a pirate. Her jewelry rounded off the pirate look and you had to bite back a grin. She raised her eyebrows at you.

“What?” Her cheeks were still slightly red, but you attributed it to standing in a hot kitchen for probably the last hour, judging by the variety of smells overlapping and mixing together, already making your mouth water.

“Uh, I brought wine,” you said and held out the bottle. Eloquent as always. Abby took it and whistled through her teeth as she inspected the label.

“That looks classic. The sauce I made has some wine in it as well, this is perfect. Thank you, what a great idea!”

You were overwhelmed with her generous praise and didn’t know where to look, so you settled on her hands. You had always sneaked looks at her hands, at the way she held a glass or drummed on a table or clasped them when she was intently listening to someone. They looked strong and rough from work, but there was also a delicacy in their movement and you were sure her touch could be as gentle as the brush of a hummingbird flying past. Realizing you were staring, you tore your gaze away.

“It smells delicious in here, I can’t wait to see what you cooked.” You followed her into the kitchen, where she placed the bottle on the counter and took a corkscrew from a drawer. A big red pot was standing on the gas stove over a tiny flame, the lid still hiding its contents. Your stomach suddenly growled loudly into the silence.

“Someone’s hungry.” Abby gave you a side glance and an amused smirk as she screwed the silver device into the cork. “Everything’s already set, we can get started right away.”

You covered your eyes with your hand for a second before laughing.

“Yeah, I kind of forgot to have lunch earlier and then I figured I’d just wait so I could really savour this.”

“Smart thinking. I made patates au vin , a vegetarian version of coq au vin which is chicken in wine. It’s basically potatoes and vegetables in a thick brown sauce, served with some good rustic bread.” You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back at the thought of getting to eat home cooked french cuisine made by Abby in a few minutes.

“Oh my God, say that again.” You could barely stop yourself from moaning. Abby laughed and opened the wine with a loud pop.

“Here, take this over to the dinner table. I’m right behind you.” You took the bottle and followed her nod into the dining room. The wooden table was beautifully set with big and small plates, glasses for water and wine, candles, two blue glass bottles of water and a bowl of salad topped with what looked like apples, pomegranate seeds and feta cheese. You carefully placed the bottle of wine next to the water bottles and stepped aside for Abby, who came out of the kitchen carrying the heavy pot and placed it on a cork coaster in the middle of the table.

“Wait, let me just…” she trailed off as she grabbed her phone from the sideboard and changed the music. A saxophone led a jazz band into the song before a beautiful female voice set in, soft as butter and filling the room like the smell of roses. The voice was familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place it. As Abby sat down, the music came to a crescendo before breaking off, the voice setting in again with a soft

is it a crime?

“Who sings this?” you asked as Abby opened the water bottle and filled your glasses.

“Oh, it’s Sade. She was my dad’s favorite.”

And I want you to want me too, the woman sang, and your eyes met over the table. You swallowed. Was? Not the right time.

“Sade? Oh, she sings Smooth Operator, right? I know that one, but I never checked out more of her music.”

Abby smiled at you and opened the lid of the pot.

“Yeah. This is the Promise album, my favorite. She is a force.”

A wave of steam erupted from the pot and you bent forward to look inside. Thick, roasted wedges of yellow potatoes lay in a bed of orange and purple carrots, mushrooms and tomatoes in a thick brown sauce, a stalk of thyme on top and a bay leaf poking out from the sauce. You weren’t sure if you were drooling, but you didn’t care.

“Abby, oh my God! This is fantastic.”

A spark had lit in her eyes when she heard you say her name. She elegantly stood up again, grabbed a serving spoon, and held out her hand for your plate. You watched her hands again as she plated an array of vegetables for you and used the spoon to draw a little sauce heart on the rim of the plate. Your ribs felt two sizes too small around your chest. This woman was actually going to be the death of you.

“Thanks,” you quietly said and waited as Abby helped herself to a plate. She sat down and gestured toward the small basket with thick slices of grey bread with a dark brown crust.

“Help yourself. Bon appétit.”

After a few moments of eating in comfortable silence before you showered the blonde in an array of compliments, this time not able to refrain from moaning when you bit into a tender, sweet purple carrot, the conversation began to flow. Abby complimented the wine, you talked about your studies, Abby told a few work stories in which both she and Nora were involved, you told her about your close relationship with your brother and she bittersweetly reminisced about her upbringing as an only child with a single dad. It had just been the two of them, moving frequently because of his changing jobs in different hospitals. He had been a neurosurgeon, and a brilliant one at that, but always humble and ready to help wherever he could. Abby sat up straighter when she talked about him, her chest actually swelling with pride when she told you about one time they had rescued an injured horse that had run away and been hit by a car in front of them.

“I think I was 16 back then. It’s one of my favorite memories of him. It actually wasn’t long before…” Her eyebrows moved into a frown and she bit her lip, pushing a small piece of onion around her plate. Fuck, maybe it would have been easier to talk about you, after all.

“We don’t have to talk about it. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

She looked up and you expected to see tears, but her eyes were full of love and her face smoothed out into a gentle smile.

“No, it’s okay. I’m still working on it, and part of my therapy is telling people who don’t know yet. You know, I don’t really have a lot of friends.” She suddenly laughed, easing the tension at the bottom of your lungs. “That sounds stupid, of course I do. I have Manny and Nora and Leah and Jordan and Owen, I guess. But the thing is, they all knew me before. I haven’t really made friends ever since my dad.. passed away. The idea of needing to open up to someone about all this so I can develop a real connection and friendship with them is just a lot to bear.”

“The mortifying ordeal of being known,” you mumbled, more to yourself, crumpling up your napkin in one hand.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, it’s this quote from a New York Times article that has been floating around the internet for a while. ‘If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known’.” You looked up at her and inhaled deeply. “It’s something I’m also terrified of. Although it seems kind of stupid sometimes, because compared to you for example, I don’t really have a good reason.”

Abby looks at you like she’s just discovered something extremely interesting. She takes a sip of her wine before answering, her silver rings blinking at you in the candlelight.

“It’s not at all stupid. I’ve always been very careful with who I open up to, even before my dad died. It’s horrifying, laying yourself bare for a person, putting yourself on a silver plate and handing it to them and saying there, now do with it what you wish. Maybe they’ll look at it and say no, thanks. Maybe they’ll call everyone and say hey, look at this mad woman with her twisted insides, isn’t that funny? Maybe they’ll see it and think, I can do this, and then after a few years they suddenly realize they actually can’t and you’re way too much and so they leave for someone with a more simple, prettier silver plate. Maybe they’ll even take a few pieces with them as they go.”

She didn’t sound bitter as she said it, and she didn’t look terribly sad either, more as if she was making an observation about something she was mildly interested in. You didn’t know what to say except for show me your silver plate, please show me your all, and I will devour it, savor it, keep it with me forever. But you stayed silent, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“I’m quite the handful, am I? Sorry, I shouldn’t have thrown all this” - she gestured toward herself - “at you during our first date.” Then her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. “Fuck, sorry, I just assumed… you probably don’t…”

Finally, movement came back into you. You jumped from your chair and were next to her in a few paces. She lifted a hand and you took it in yours.

“Of course this is a date,” you said gently and smiled at her. “Otherwise why would I have been this nervous for the past three days, thinking of nothing but you, constantly checking my phone to see if you texted me? And I brought red wine, come on.” That brought a smile to her face. She chuckled lightly.

“So I haven’t just ruined everything?” The hope in her eyes was mixed with real, honest fear.

“No, of course not. I’m glad you’re being open with me. You know, I planned not to reveal too much about myself tonight, fearing I would scare you away or say something stupid and make you suddenly lose interest.”

The current song ended and a soft, funky beat came on. There it was again, that twinkle in Abby’s eyes. Your hands were still clasped around hers and she made no move to pull back.

“Well, now I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me. Lay it on me. Over dessert, maybe?”

You raised your eyebrows.

“There’s dessert? You’re going to have to roll me out of here later.”

She laughed, warm and genuine, and the pride you had felt back in The Closet filled your chest again. You would do anything just to be the one to make her laugh every day for the rest of your life. She got up and you both started clearing the table together.

Never going to know

What fate is going to blow

Your way, just hope that it feels right

Could that Sade lady be any more on the nose? You risked a glance at Abby, who was smiling to herself. You followed her into the kitchen and she opened the fridge to produce a large glass dish, showing the several layers of biscuit and white cream, topped with dark cacao.

“Tiramisu? Seriously Abby, how much time did you spend in the kitchen today?”

She gave you a crooked grin before exiting the kitchen.

“Took the day off.”

You just sighed and went back into the dining room.

Such a fine time as this

“Here.” Abby handed you a small plate with a piece of her gourmet tiramisu. Your fingers brushed against each other and you both paused for just the blink of an eye.

What could equal the bliss

The thrill of the first kiss

You sat down and grabbed the small fork left next to your wine glass. On second thought, you took another sip of Merlot. It really was exquisite.

“Buon’ appetito,” you said and sliced off a perfect edge of tiramisu. The soft, coffee-drenched biscuit fell apart on your tongue, mixing with the heavy vanilla-flavored mascarpone. “Did you know where the name tiramisu comes from?”

Abby lifted her fork to her mouth and softly closed her lips around the piece of creamy dessert. You were entranced, watching her hand sink down to the table again, then her jaw moving and flexing as she chewed. She raised her eyebrows questioningly and you cleared your throat, taking another piece on your fork.

“ Tira mi su is Italian for ‘pull me down’. It’s the last thing you eat after dinner and the thing that makes you tired, pulls you right into the food coma. In restaurants, it rounds off the meal and guests will probably leave in the following hour because they feel they’re ready to go home.”

Never as good as the first time

Natural as the way we came to be

“Oh,” Abby said, her voice quiet. She looked up at you through dark lashes. “And are you going home after this?”

“No.” You said it without thinking, only knowing what was true in your heart. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m glad.” Taking a deep breath, Abby straightened up, then reached a hand across the table, her palm facing up. You stared at it for a fraction of a second before placing your hand in hers, feeling something fall into place inside you. The glances you exchanged said so much more than you could possibly dare to say out loud right now.

You used your free hand to stab the last piece of tiramisu. This time it was Abby who was watching you with hungry eyes as the fork vanished between your lips and emerged clean.

“This tiramisu could be the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life,” you said after swallowing and Abby’s fingers twitched ever so slightly around your hand.

“Thank you. I’m really into French and Italian cuisine, as you may have noticed.”

You leaned back in your chair, careful not to pull back your hand.

“I couldn’t do it, honestly. Spending so much time in the kitchen. Especially not with a job like yours, on your feet all day. I’d probably survive off of pasta and takeout.”

Abby smiled and began slowly drawing circles on the back of your hand with her thumb. You were already hyper-aware of how your blood rushed through every vein of your body, a side-effect of the red wine, but now it came to a roar in your ears.

“I guess I need some kind of hobby besides lifting weights. It calms me down. And it’s not just about the end result, about getting to eat something, but also about picking the right ingredients, taking my time cutting them up, trying new recipes with new flavors, and learning more about food and culture, and honestly about myself. It’s like meditating.”

“That sounds…” you were at a loss for words, “unbelievable? I’ve never heard someone talk about cooking like that. And I’ve never felt that way about it, too. I guess I’d like to, though. It sounds nice.”

Abby brushed her thumb over your knuckles.

“Well, I could show you.” You tilted your head slightly. “I mean, we could cook together. Next time. If you want to?”

Sade’s voice, smooth as polished wood and dripping with honey cut into the moment.

How could I have doubted

Honey, it's with me that you belong

“Yeah, I’d love to. What do you have in mind?”

“Do you like lasagna? We could make a vegetable lasagna and substitute the meat for soy. I could show you how to make a béchamel.”

You laughed and squeezed her hand.

“I love lasagna, although I have no idea what a beshmel is.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Abby’s face was glowing with happiness.

As the last two songs of the album played, you helped Abby clean up the table. You got into an argument about doing the dishes - Abby said she’d do it later but you insisted you would do them now or at least help because so far you had not lifted a finger.

“Come on, Abby, please let me help?” You tried your best doe eyes at her. She grinned and playfully slapped your upper arm.

“Okay. But I’ll put on different music.”

She vanished to the dining room while you began filling the sink with water. A high note filled the room before a man spoke.

You broke my heart / 'Cause I couldn't dance

You didn't even want me around

And now I'm back / To let you know

I can really shake 'em down

Abby stepped into your field of vision. The music set in, a delightful 60’s rock and roll melody, and Abby began dancing toward you with tiny steps and shaking shoulders. She was lip synching to the coarse voice of the singer and reaching out her hands for you. Snapping out of your frozen position, you shook your head, grabbed her hands, and were immediately twirled through the kitchen. A squeak escaped you as Abby pulled you back toward her and with another pirouette, you almost slammed into her chest. You both laughed out loud, continuing to dance through the kitchen with big, overexaggerated moves, flailing your arms and shuffling your feet across the tile.

I can do the twist

Now, tell me baby

Do you like it like this?

You quickly began singing along to the simple lyrics and both of you were giggling at each other’s dance moves. The next song was Stand By Me and you both settled down, beginning to clean the pots and dishes. You did the washing while Abby dried off the pieces you gave her and put them back into the right cupboards. Both of you were swaying and humming along to the music.

During the second chorus, both of you began belting along, filling the kitchen with the wonderfully familiar sound of slightly drunk women singing together. As the song ended, you both comically froze and waited for the next song to set in. When it was La Bamba by Ritchie Valens, you both continued singing along and showing off some probably terrible salsa moves. You were done in no time and Abby took your hand, pulling you into the dining room and sliding across the wooden floors with you. Your stomach hurt from laughing and you couldn’t stop smiling.

Next came the bittersweet Be My Baby by the Ronettes, a song you remembered from your childhood, vague memories of your parents slow dancing together after another terrible fight. You swallowed down the hint of bitterness creeping up from your stomach. Instead, you looked up at Abby, almost a full head taller than you, and dared yourself to step forward. You placed your right hand in Abby’s and your left on her tricep, coming unbearably and exhilaratingly close. Abby put her hand on your back, right below your shoulder blade, warming you through the fabric of your shirt. Your faces were incredibly close, her breath warm on your nose, and you could have counted every single freckle on her beautiful face. There was a slim ring of gold around her pupil, complimenting the green of her iris. She was breathtaking.

You couldn’t take this any longer. Should you kiss her? Everything inside you wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close the last inch of distance. It felt like wanting to do a handstand but pulling back at the last second every time because of a deep fear of failing and hurting yourself. It was terribly frustrating.

Instead, you leaned your head against the round muscle of Abby’s shoulder, turning your face toward her chest and pressing your temple to her collarbone. You could smell the herbs she had used to cook earlier in the fabric of her shirt, but her skin smelled like pine and something else, earthy and dark, like tree bark or wool. Abby rested her chin against your forehead and her low hum of contentment vibrated against your cheek.

A light waltz melody began, Unchained Melody, a song you knew from some commercial and had listened to for a few weeks straight after.

I need your love

God speed your love to me

You smiled to yourself and could sense Abby was doing the same. You kept slowly turning, dancing through the candle-lit room and swaying side to side. The band set in louder and you lifted your head again. Abby’s eyes were fixed to yours, but you couldn’t stop yours from wandering lower, finding those perfectly pink lips, hanging open ever so slightly. Your hand wandered upward, along her shoulder, and to the back of her neck. As the last verse of the song began, you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against her. Abby inhaled sharply, her fingers spreading on your back and pressing against your skin. You gently pressed your lips to hers again and this time, she kissed you back. You dug your fingertips into the back of her neck, desperately wanting to come closer, to pull her down to you, hell, you would climb her like a tree if you had to.

Feeling courageous, you stuck your tongue out and ran the tip upward over her lips. Abby instantly reacted, opening her mouth for you and greeting your tongue with hers. She tasted like wine and cacao, and faintly like thyme. Releasing your hand, she wrapped her arms around your waist. You reached up and buried your hand in her hair. She gasped into your mouth. You tucked that sound away for later, swearing to yourself you would make her do it again as often as you could.

A few seconds of silence between songs were disrupted by your wonderfully frivolous wet kissing sounds and a small whine that escaped you when Abby’s hand wandered lower to cup your ass. The first guitar chords of Nights In White Satin vibrated through the air and Abby grabbed you tightly before lifting you off the ground and wrapping your legs around her hips. She carried you over to the dining table and set you down.

The dramatic crescendo in the song you loved so much began.

And I love you

Yes I love you

Oh, how I love you

The singer’s voice filled every corner of the room, his declaration hovering above you, the high voices of the background singers ringing in your ears and Abby’s hands everywhere, her body leaning over you, her hips pressed between your legs. You flexed your legs to pull her in closer, almost falling apart when Abby let out a low moan and rocked her hips forward against you. Then she suddenly slowed down and broke the kiss.

“Wait, let’s talk for a second.”

You kept your legs clamped around her, but relaxed back a little, brushing back a strand of hair from her forehead and giving her an encouraging nod to go ahead.

“I haven’t… I’m not that experienced with - with women. And generally. And I don’t want to rush things and do something wrong and lose you. I don’t really know how this works and I want to do it right.”

Her hands on your waist tightened slightly. You gave her a shy smile.

“Me neither. I’m scared, too.” You surprised yourself with your openness. “How about we take this slow, then? Talk about everything openly? And just go one step at a time?”

Abby nodded and pulled you closer again.

Holding Back The Years began playing.

“One kiss at a time.” She gave you a gentle peck on the lips.

“Oh, really? I would have never picked you as the sappy type,” you laughed against her lips.

“You wouldn’t?” She acted shocked. “Let me remind you of how I took the day off to cook a gourmet french dish for you.”

“True.” You shrugged and pulled her in for another kiss. “It’s probably the muscles. With those guns, you can do anything and still be taken seriously.”

Abby snorted and you realized that had been the wine talking. For a second, you were mortified, then she scooped you up again, holding your body with one arm as she ran her free hand through your hair.

“Oh, those? You know, they’re specifically for carrying you around all day. Anything for my - princess.” You had very well noticed the little pause there, but you decided not to say anything yet. Instead, you lifted your chin and eyebrows, imitating what you thought a royal would look like.

“Well, what does that make you? You’re obviously not a prince. My lady knight?”

Abby nodded solemnly.

“Sworn to protect and defend you. And to carry you wherever.”

“Well, do you have a sofa you could carry me to?” You tightened your hold on her shoulders and leaned in closer again.

“Of course, my lady.”

Abby carried you through a doorway at the back of the dining room into a cozy living room, equipped with a large sofa and a gigantic flatscreen tv, two vintage armchairs, a wooden bookshelf with at least 100 books, and a desk facing the window, medical books spread across the surface. The blonde sat down on the sofa and you knelt left and right of her hips, straddling her as you gave her another soft kiss.

“You know,” you began, “I’ve been crushing on you for months now. I thought you had absolutely no interest in me. I didn’t even know you liked women.”

Abby’s eyes widened at your confession.

“Shit, I had no idea. You weren’t exactly forward, you know. The first time we met, you already had this pull on me. But you were so shy and I didn’t want to jump you or annoy you, so I tried to keep my distance and wait if you would come around.”

“You have Leah to thank for that. Me coming around. I kind of forgot to come out to her until karaoke night and she told me you were dating women as well. She knows I’ve been a hopeless case when it comes to you, but she wanted me to figure this out on my own.”

Abby thought about this for a second.

“Yeah, Leah probably only told you because she knew I liked you, too. I haven’t been that open about dating women in the past, just because talking about dating in general was weird with Owen and Mel around and I also just don’t like everyone knowing my personal business.”

“I get that.” You nodded. “As I said, I hadn’t even been out to Leah. Mostly because I haven’t dated anyone in forever and the last time was a disaster not worth talking about.” You winced at the memory.

“You wanna tell me anyway?”

You thought about it for a second, then you climbed off Abby’s lap and laid down on the sofa, resting your head on her thigh. Her fingers immediately began brushing through your hair and massaging your scalp.

“Well, I met this girl during a freshman party at a sorority house the weekend before my first semester in college,” you began. You had felt weirdly out of place, but were determined to speak to at least one person. A few hours and an almost-lethal amount of tequila later, the girl you had talked to all night had dragged you into one of the bedrooms. You both had no previous experience, were extremely drunk and it was already 5am. You had fun making out and were both eager to try more, but it had been more out of curiosity than desire for each other and so the experience had not ended in the expected bliss of lesbian sex. Rather, she had come pretty quickly and afterward she'd begun crying and told you she had a boyfriend, and you had gotten dressed and fled the house. After that, dating in college was not really something you thought about much.

Abby listened to your story with interest and sympathy, laughing at a few parts and stroking your hair as you told her about the end of that fateful night. She felt deeply sorry for your experience of strangeness and betrayal, immediately promising to you that she would always tell you what was going on inside her head and what she wanted.

“Like you just did,” you smiled at her. “That was brave. It’s what I should have done that night.”

“I mean, I had a few weird moments, too, before I learned to speak my mind.” Abby’s gaze unfocused and she frowned as she clearly recalled some not very pleasant memories.

“Wanna tell me, too?” you asked, keeping your voice light. She nodded, looking down at you again.

“I mean, there's Owen, obviously. That didn’t work out well and now he is with Mel, leaving me wondering if he was interested in her while we were still together. After we broke up, Nora and I went on a little bender.” Your heart jumped into your throat. Did Abby and Nora...? A wave of jealousy rose from the bottom of your stomach, but you forced yourself to keep your calm, smiling at Abby as she continued.

“We spent every weekend at a different bar, and one of them was actually at The Closet. Nora was making out with a woman in actual overalls” - she snorted - “and I just hung out at the bar, drinking Long Islands and not brave enough to make eye contact with anyone. And then the bartender started talking to me.”

Suddenly realization dawned on you. You sat up and stared at Abby.

“Wait, Ellie? The short-haired one?”

Abby grimaced.

“Yeah. We talked for a while and I came back the next week with Leah and Jordan. They didn’t even notice I was spending a lot of time at the bar. Ellie and I met for coffee a few days later and I mentioned my dad and she got really quiet and strange. Turns out, she’s related to the guy that murdered my dad, so...”

You were pretty sure your heart stopped for a moment, all the air in your chest building up pressure as you tried to figure out how to breathe out. Abby noticed and gently guided you to lay back down, continuing to weave her fingers into your hair.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll tell you the whole story another time. So yeah, Ellie and I. It was horrible, but we still stayed and talked for a while. She couldn’t tell me a lot about what happened, but she had no idea that I even existed and she was about to have a panic attack over it all. I helped her calm down and then she felt terrible for reacting so badly when it should be me panicking and I just told her that there’s nothing any of us can do now and we should probably leave it at that.” She sighed. “I hadn’t been to The Closet until a few days ago. I only came because I knew you’d be there.”

“Fuck, that’s terrible,” you mumbled. “I don’t think I could have gone back there. I’m still glad you did, though.”

“Me too,” Abby said, her voice gentle and honest. She leaned down to kiss you, deeply and passionately.

You stayed on the sofa for the next few hours, talking about school crushes and gay awakenings, about women constantly hitting on Abby and her being confused for a long time. She told you more about her relationship with Mel and you started to actually resent that woman. Who did she think she was? You told Abby about living with Leah and about your current research projects and she listened intently, asking a lot of questions about the art you were analyzing. You began diving into queer art and Sappho and your theory on the different languages of different social groups. Abby actually gave you some great new ideas and some good questions you couldn’t yet answer and you were actually beginning to look forward to writing tomorrow.

As the clock moved past midnight, it became clear you would have to leave at some point soon. Abby had to get up at 7 in the morning for a 10-hour shift, and you had stifled one too many yawns. You were cuddled up on the couch, kisses interchanging with long, deep conversations and more kisses.

“I can accompany you to the station,” Abby suggested as you looked up the departure times on your phone.

“You don’t have to. That’s sweet of you, but I’ll find the way.” You kissed her for her generosity, but she pulled back.

“Honestly. I don’t want you walking alone. I’ll go with you.” A sheepish smile appeared on her face and she did a tiny bow. “My lady.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, making your way to the entrance hall. Abby gently helped you into your coat and put on a black bomber jacket, a strange but hot combination with her fancy pants. She opened the door for you and you stepped out into the cold night together.

You held hands on the way to the station, stopping at every corner to make out, laughing together, and making plans for your lasagna night. You would come over on Thursday, promising to yourself you would finish all your coursework until then. Manny would come back on Friday, so you’d have the house to yourself again.

You arrived at the station way too soon, but your train was announced to arrive in two minutes. Heavy-hearted, you flung your arms around the tall blonde and she wrapped hers around your waist, lifting you up for another deep kiss.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” she whispered against your lips.

“I’ll even dress up next time,” you mumbled and she grinned at you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but jeans and a t-shirt. I’m excited.” Well, now you had to go shopping. Leah would be delighted to go with you.

You pressed a last kiss to Abby’s lips before unwrapping yourself from her arms as the train rolled into the station. As you stepped away, she caught your hand and pulled you back for another one, cheekily running her tongue over your bottom lip. You sighed and kissed her hand, wrapped firmly around yours, before stepping back and boarding the train. You waved at her through the window as you departed and watched her stand on the platform until she was out of sight.

Letting yourself fall into one of the seats, you pulled out your phone and texted your brother.

-We kissed!!!! Call me when you can

Then you texted Leah about shopping tomorrow, just able to send the text before your phone vibrated with a new message.

-You looked beautiful tonight. I’m the luckiest person in the world.

You tried to keep your squeal as quiet as possible. A woman a few seats ahead of you briefly looked up from her phone.

-Can’t believe I have a personal knight who will carry me wherever I want to go

The reply came in seconds.

-Anywhere and anything you want. Text me when you’re home!

-Can I text you before I’m home? I miss you already :(

You had to wait a few minutes before your phone vibrated again. This time, Abby was calling.

“Sorry, I was cleaning up and getting ready for bed.” She sounded a bit breathless.

“No worries,” you said. “What are you wearing for bed?”

Abby let out a surprised laugh.

“Really, now?”

“I’m serious. I want to imagine being with you.”

“Well, I’m wearing a gigantic black t-shirt with a ton of holes and boxers.”

You closed your eyes, envisioning Abby’s thighs straining against the hem of her shorts and the soft cotton of her shirt that you could bury your face in. She would smell like nature and like home somewhere far away.

“I wish I was there.” You noticed you were sounding desperate. Fucking hell, were you about to turn into a 13-year-old? You could hear the smile in Abby’s voice when she spoke.

“I wish you were here with me, too.” She paused for a moment. Then, “Do you want to sleep over on Thursday?”

“Uhm -” you had to think for a second, remembering you only had dinner plans for Friday with your mom. Before you could answer, Abby cut in again

“Fuck, am I rushing you? I didn’t mean - I just thought it would be nice, falling asleep together. But I totally get if that’s -”

“Abby! Of course I want to stay over!” You clenched your free hand into a fist, punching your thigh a few times in order to divert the explosion of energy inside your chest.

“Oh, thank god,” Abby’s shaky laugh was heart-wrenching. “I thought I messed up already.”

You stood up to exit at your station.

“No, not at all. I’d love to fall asleep with you.”

The way to your apartment was over faster than you wanted it to be.

“I’m home now. I think I should hang up, Leah is probably sleeping.”

“Yeah, don’t wake the monster.” Abby chuckled.

“Good night, Abby. Tonight was incredible.”

“Good night, Y/N. You’re incredible. Sleep tight.”

Author's note: Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! If you'd like to support me, you can buy me a coffee here

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #the last of us 2 #tlou abby #abigail anderson #abby fic #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson fanfiction #ellie #ellie tlou #leah tlou #jordan tlou #owen moore #owen x mel #mel tlou #owen tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader

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adventuresinwonderlust · 3 years

Text

Title: Ace and Min: Part 3

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader aka “Ace”

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, best friends to lovers, angst, slight crack, abusive speak/language, talks of/and abusive behavior, talks of/toxic relationship, fighting, oral (f) receiving, protected sex

Rating: 18 and over

You watch in horror as Che slams Yoongi against the wall, his forearm pressing into Yoongi’s neck. “Not so tough now are you, Min?” “Get off of him!” You shout, slamming your fist repeatedly into Che’s back. Che wiggles his shoulder back and forth to shoo you away. Yoongi uses the opportunity to land a fist in an unsuspecting Che’s ribs. Che groans loudly, grasping his side as Yoongi lands another blow to Che’s cheek. Che drops to the ground as Yoongi swings his leg forward and kicks Che in the ribs. “That’s for putting your hands on Y/N,” He kicks him again, “That’s for cheating you piece of shit,” he lands one final kick, “And that is to remind you to never come near her again.” Che lays on the ground holding his side. “Come on Yoongi, that’s enough.” You pull at him as you type in the keycode for his front door. Yoongi crouches down beside Che, “Leave now and I won't call the cops,” Che looks up at Yoongi with anger in his eyes, “Don't test me Che. I promise, if you ever come near Y/N again, I'll kill you.” Yoongi stands now and follows you inside.

Yoongi slams the door and presses his forehead against it, as if waiting for Che to burst through. Your heart is beating rapidly in your chest and you place your hands over it to try to calm it. “Yoongi. Are you ok?” You swallow back a sob, moving forward to place your hands on his back. He spins quickly, lifting you off your feet and walking you hastily to the couch. His lips are on yours in a heated kiss, biting and tugging until your soon on your back. You’re both ravenous, yanking and clawing at each other’s clothing. “I’m sorry he ever hurt you,” Yoongi pants between kisses, “I love you. I’ll never let another soul hurt you. I’m going to protect you always. Are you ok? I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.” He continues saying planting kisses all over your face, cheeks, neck, and collar bone. You moan out, the both of you free of your shirts. “Don’t apologize. You were so brave. I love you. I love you so much.” You respond, digging your hands into his hair while he kisses the soft flesh of your breast, pulling your bra down to suckle on your nipple. You cry out his name, tugging at his hair. He lifts his head and takes your mouth in another passionate kiss, soon unbuttoning your shorts and tugging them off. He nips at your hips, pulling the fabric of your panties to the side to run his tongue along your drenched sex. “Fuck!” You gasp.

Yoongi waste no time, lapping your arousal up, moaning at your taste. He gives you a soft brief smile, dropping his head between your legs once more and dragging his tongue through your slit again. You arch your back, your body goosing at the feeling. He moans hungrily into your cunt, sucking your inner and outer lips into his mouth. “Oh Yoongi, please.” You beg, needing more from him. He slurps your juices straight from your entrance, soon wrapping his mouth around your clit, swirling his tongue in quick circles. You drop one hand into his hair and yank, pulling him closer to your throbbing core, your other hand teasing your breast. You close your eyes tightly. Now focused on how methodical Yoongi’s movements are, how he quickly swirls his tongue, only to slow down and roll his tongue along the length of your bud. You tremble at the controlled buildup of your orgasm in your tummy, whispering Yoongi’s name over and over under your breath. “So close.” You whimper, feeling your body heat. Yoongi hums, bringing his hand up and inserting two fingers inside of your entrance. He moves them slowly, massaging your every nerve ending, your orgasm moving quickly from your tummy through your core and shooting up your spine into your brain. You cry out, clenching down onto Yoongi’s fingers, pulling hard on his hair, your vision a haze of white flecks.

You release Yoongi’s strands, your body going limp as you come down from your high. You pant frantically, Yoongi soon climbing up your body to plant sweet kisses on your lips. “You ok Ace?” He whispers over your mouth. You nod, reaching down to grip his hard on. He groans into your mouth, wrapping his arm around your waist and lifting you off the couch. “What are you doing?” You ask. “Bringing you to my room.” He smirks. He shoves the door open, your body wrapped around his like a koala. He places you gently on the bed, removing his pants, standing before you in his underwear. You move forward and palm him. “My turn.” You bite your lip. He shakes his head. “Maybe some other time Ace. I need to make love to you. You don’t know how long I’ve needed this.” He digs in his side drawer and pulls out a condom, climbing onto the bed. You lie back, your blood burning with anticipation. You snatch the condom from Yoongi’s hand, tearing it open with your teeth. He smiles at you, a small chuckle escaping his chest. “It seems someone else has been needing this just as much huh Ace?” You nod quickly, eyes fixed on his hips as he slowly unveils his thick length. You moan, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. “Fuck Min. Now I see why all the girls love you.” He chuckles again, sucking in a breath when you begin to roll the condom along his member.

You lie back, gripping his ass when he lies atop you. Yoongi kisses you slowly, taking one of your hands with his and interlocking your fingers, resting it above your head. He moves his other hand between you both and takes his member in it, running his tip through your saturated slit. “Fuck Ace, you’re so wet.” He whispers. He inserts just the tip, a groan escaping his throat when your entrance gobbles it with ease. “God,” He moans, thrusting forward, entering you fully. He stays stationary for a moment, kissing you again, his free hand gripping your hip. When he releases your lips, he begins to move in and out of you, moaning freely at the way your cunt clenches and grips at his length which each full thrust. “I’ve always dreamed of this moment Ace. God, this is better than any dream. You’re so perfect. I love you so much.” Yoongi pants. You try but can't respond, so lost in his blown-out eyes, and lustful expression. He’s so beautiful in this moment, completely lost in you. You clench around him purposefully now, eliciting an animal like groan from him. He leans his forehead against yours, his movements becoming faltered. He pulls out suddenly, his hot cock resting on your lower stomach as he kisses you passionately. “What's wrong?” You inquire, feeling empty. “It's embarrassing” He whines. “It’s me Min. Just tell me.” “I’m just so close. I feel like a teenager. Like I'm going to burst. I want to last longer but you feel so good. I’ve wanted this for so long. The anticipation is just built up.” You can't help giggle, feeling empowered that you could have this effect on him.

“It’s ok Min. I want to make you feel good.” He shakes his head. “I want to spend every day making you feel like a Queen.” He kisses you hard now, shoving his rigid cock into you. You gasp out loud, gripping his behind tightly as he thrust quickly in and out of you. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He cries out, pulling out again. You groan, looking down at his angry red cock. “Stop pulling out Min.” He grunts in frustration. “I don’t want to finish yet.” He complains. You chuckle, shoving him on his back. “This won't be the last time we do this. I promise.” You say against his pout. You kiss him gently, sliding down onto his length with ease. He moans into your mouth, gripping your hips tightly when you begin to hop up and down his throbbing cock. “Jesus Ace, you have no clue how amazing this feels. I’ve never felt this fucking good inside someone before.” He mewls beneath you. “Yeah,” You bite your lip teasingly, feeling almost invincible. He smirks at you now, thrusting up into you. You cry out when he hits your cervix, not allowing it to stop your movements. “I love you Yoongi. I’ve loved you for so long. I want to spend the rest of my days loving you.” He moans softly at your words, his hold on your hips becoming painful enough to leave bruises. “Cum for me baby. Let go. It’s ok. I want you to. I want to feel you throb inside me.” “Fuck Ace! Fuck!” He cries out. A heavy groan leaving his chest when he explodes into the condom. You gasp, clenching down on his twitching member. He stops you from moving, holding you in place for a moment and then finally aiding you in gliding up and down him once again. He pants against your neck when you press your chest down onto his. “I promise I'll be better the next time.” “You were amazing Min.” You praise him, kissing his pink cheeks. You lift off him and watch him remove and tie off the condom.

He tosses it in the trash beside his bed and rolls to face you. “Wanna sit in a warm bubble bath with me?” “Sure.” You giggle. He kisses your cheek. “Why are you laughing at me? Men take bubble baths.” You shrug. “Che never did.” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Che was an asshole. Let’s not talk about Che.” He gets up now and pulls on sweats. “Sorry. Are you mad?” “No, why would I be mad?” “I don’t know because I mentioned Che.” Yoongi turns to face you and crawls onto his side again. “Hey. I'm not Che. I'm not going to get mad or jealous because you mention another guy. I’m not insecure and I'm never going to hurt you. I love you Ace. I know he was big part of your life, I'm sorry if I came off rude. Don’t worry so much ok. Everything is going to be so much better now.” You nod, leaning in to kiss him. “I know Min. Thank you.” He nods, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “Come on, let me take care of you.” He whispers, standing now and reaching to help you off the bed. You head to the restroom with him, and he begins to run a bath, dropping an orange ball into it that slowly rolls around the water fizzing out. He pours a lavender scented bubble bath into the water next and helps you in. He slides off his sweats and climbs in next sitting behind you so you can rest your back against his chest.

“What now?” You ask. “Whatever you want.” He grumbles, kissing the top of your head. “I mean, do we start dating? Do I move in? How do I get my stuff? Do I even get my stuff? I guess I should get my stuff, it's my stuff, right?” “It’s ok Ace. You don’t have to figure it all out in one day.” “But what if I want to?” “Ok, well if you want to then what's the most important thing for you to have figured out first?” You ponder this for a moment. Taking in the sweet lavender scent and releasing a huge breath. “Us?” He chuckles. “Ok. What about us?” “Are we a couple now?” You ask nervously, afraid he might reject you. “Is that what you want?” He whispers, snuggling close to you. “You can't keep answering my questions with questions Min.” “Ok. I would love nothing more than to be with you Ace. I’ve wanted to be with you for a long time. If you want that too then I’ll be the happiest man alive. If you don’t, I'm ok with that too because we are always going to be friends. I love you so much. You mean the world to me. I honestly want you to do what makes you happy. If I'm a part of that, shit, that’s great.” You rise into the seated position and turn towards him. “I want that to. I want to be with you.” He smiles wide, his gums on display. “We have to do it right.” “What do you mean?” “I mean.... Ace, Y/F/N Y/L/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

You squeal a bit moving forward to kiss him, water splashing everywhere. “Yes, I will.” You answer upon breaking the kiss. “Ok, next question. Do you wanna live with me? I mean this apartment is huge and sometimes lonely. We spend so much time together anyways and I already know everything there is to know about you. No pressure though.” You ponder the idea, enjoying the nervousness that spreads across his face. “I mean your place is huge.” You lull. He hums in agreement, pulling you into his body so you straddle him. “Then its decided, you move in here with me. Even if we sleep in different rooms, I just want to know your safe.” “You really are the best Min. So good to me.” You whisper to him. “I want to be good to you forever. In fact, let me be even better to you Ace. Let's go somewhere. I can have a company pick up your things. Just let me take you away for a while.” You pause for a minute, watching nerves hit him, before giggling. “Ok Min, let's do it.” He laughs in relief, pulling you close. “You and me forever Ace.” He whispers. “You and me forever Min.” You whisper back, kissing him again, melting into his embrace.

#bts smut #yoongi smut #suga x reader #suga x you

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kusagrasskusa · 3 years

Text

Light X Detective! Reader - "I am Kira"

Summery- Y/N is a teenager given the honor of working for the task force and is with the few who agreed to work in the Kira case. Both while discussing L and on her way to go to the hotel to meet L, she bumps into Light. They get along and have a two minute conversation before she's pulled away by Aizawa. Her biggest flaw is her incapability to shut up, so she sorta explains how she (rather than Pember's fiance) believes Kira can in many ways...

Sorry for the "read more" being so high up lol. When I look through hashtags, I hate it when there's an entire story I already read to scroll past before I can see new ones :)

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

"I just don't understand," Y/N huffed as she pushed her hair behind her ear. She clinched the papers in her hand and furrowed her eyebrows together while rereading all the reports that were concluded to be caused by Kira. She sat in a cold room, in a chair that wouldn't warm up, with a bunch of officers who were equally as ignorant and annoyingly loud as the next. A lot of them distrust L as well, creating an unwanted tension that bothers everyone.

"Excuse me, sir," called a brunette boy to another brunette. Okay, maybe not everyone is annoying and ignorant; Matsuda and the Cheif were alright. Y/N smiled to herself as she looked at the two congregating. It's nice to see these two making the atmosphere brighter, she thought. There's been a lot of stress since no one can even began to image how Kira is even existing right now. Whether it's a single person or a group, how can they kill someone from anywhere? Alchemy isn't even real, so how?

And before she knew it, two hours of nothing went by. That is, until, three officers went up to the Cheif and set stuff down on the table. "Sir, we're resigning from the Kira investigation."

The cheif stood up, wide eyed, "why!"

"Because we value our lives! Kira has made it clear that he'll stop whoever gets in his way! We have a family at home and we aren't going to give it up!" One explained, taking deep breaths. The Cheif was silent for a moment before sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Take your badges. I completely understand your decision." The cheif stood up, looking around the room. "I want everyone who wants to leave the Kira investigation to stand up. You won't be fired but rather transfered to another case." And just like that, nearly every single person in the case stood up, looking around each other disappointly. Y/N looked around her, glaring at the men around her. Wow, she thought, and I was called weak for being a "little girl."

As people made their decisions on whether to leave, or stay, or whatever, Y/N simply stacked her papers and cleaned her desk. The one she shared her desk had left, so she had a lot more space to put her paperwork. To be honest she didn't really like him all that much; it's random but that man would make the most jokes about Y/N's age and gender. She was the only female and being surrounded by a bunch of guys called for many conversations focusing on how she would interact with people, as if her gender is a defining quality to ever conversation.

But thank God that's over with. As Y/N looked around the room, her eyes widened as her eyebrows furrowed. "What? Like everyone left!" She called out, counting the people left. Masuta chuckled from across the room and she received a disapproving glance from Aizawa. Well, thank God these two stayed. She would be so alone with someone to joke with and another to keep an eye on her.

Aizawa is almost like an older brother/father figure of sorts, which is hella comforting. Matsuda and Y/N have never met before their job, not even happened to lassby each other at any point in their life, yet as soon as they saw each other, they knew each other very well. Immediately they kicked it off and eventually he found a way to convince the cheif that she's worthy of being here with him. He may have even brought up Light to make the cheif feel more personalized. It worked somehow.

The few remaining in the office stood up to acknowledge each other better. And when L finally spoke up from the computerin the back of the room, it was time for the debate on whether we trust him or not. Y/N, the Cheif, Matsuda, and Ukita seem to trust L a lot. Aizawa and Ide seem distrustful, and Mogi is neutral. When L released them to go discuss their views on him, everyone was eager to go.

On the way outside, a smile hung on Y/N's features as she walked alongside Matsuda. He didn't exactly share her energy as he rather just stared at the ground with a look of questioning. "This is a good thing y'know? It finally means we have the chance of a lifetime: to meet L. He would know how to keep us safe so we would never end up like the FBI agents!" Y/N whispered to him, making a small look of relief cross his features. He smiled at her and nodded.

Just a little into the conversation, the group had already began to trust L at least a little bit more. A few minutes later, L was given them directions on how to find him. Like hell I will write this all out, so just know that this happened the same way it did in the anime :). Y/N smiled widely, gripping Matsuda's sleeve and giggling quietly to herself. "This is amazing! We get to finally meet the L!"

"Calm down, L/N-san," Aizawa scolded, sending her a disapproving look. Y/N giggled at his stern face, shaking her head. She leaned on Matsuda's shoulder.

"Come on, 'Zawa! You're not excited? Not everyone gets to do this, y'know," she replied. Chief Yagami sighed and rolled his eyes at her childish behavior.

~~~

Y/N walked the dark streets with Aizawa by her side. She's humming to herself before breaking into a light sing, "hirogaru yami no naka-"

"Do you ever be quiet?" Aizawa asked. Y/N shook her heard before continuing to sing. But this time, she spread her arms out and moved more, dancing to the rhythm of the song. "Stop it, you child! You're gonna draw attention to us!"

"No I won't~ After all, it's the middle of the night," she replied as she pointed around the empty streets with the exception of 3 pass-bys. "No one is gonna care about a stupid little schoolgirl with her "dad" walking around when their tired and want to go home." Oh, in order to keep up a lie that Y/N is related to Aizawa, they found it easier for her to dress in a schoolgirl outfit. After all,, it's a Wednesday so people would think she would have to go to school, meaning she was young enoigh to be his daughter. "It's not like I'm gonna run into someone, eit—" Pffb!

Y/N fell onto the ground and landed in on the pavement. She hit her head on a metal door when she was walking and somehow didn't see it; well, maybe that's because someone opened the door. "Sorry! I didn't see you there," called a soft, masculine voice. He extended his hand towards the girl who was rubbing the mark on her forehead. She looked up at him either an apologetic look as she took his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

"No, I apologize. I, um, wasn't looking," she responded. Her face was pink with embarrassment so she kept her head low. After all, how does one recover from embarrassing themselves in front of someone so damn attractive?

"Look what you did; I told you this would happen. I'm sorry, sir, for you— Light?" Aizawa asked with a questioning look on his features. The brunette boy smiled at Aizawa, waving.

"It's me, haha. Sorry, I'm not very good with faces. What's your name?" He kindly asked. Y/N looked up at him and admired his features. He looked so calm and collected that it was admiring to her.

"Aizawa," is all he said before Light nodded in remembrance.

"Nice to see you again, sir. Is this your daughter? She looks lovely," Light complimented as he turned towards the short girl, whose face remained as pink as before if not worse. She bit her bottom lip, looking up at him at waving.

"My name is Y/N, nice to meet to you Light," she responded with a bow of her head. Light bowed his head simultaneously with that calm smile never leaving his face. "Sorry again, haha. I'm sorta a clutz," she continued.

Light shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. "No need to be so worried, Miss Y/N. All's forgiven. Actually, I'm rather glad we did bump into each other like that. You're a sweet woman," he replied. Y/N chuckled nervously and felt his charisma hit her deep in the soul.

"I hate to break up you and your boyfriend," Aizawa stepped in. "But we have to get going. It was nice seeing you Light." Light nodded in understanding and YN posted her lip, though also understanding. She looked back at Light, smiling.

"Well, I hope to see you again, Light. Bye for now," she said her goodbyes as Light did the same to her before hey parted ways. "He's cute," she simply stated as Aizawa rolled his eyes.

"You teenagers and your weird romances..."

~~~

Y/N laid there; her books spread out on a table and her head in her arms, breathing softly as she stayed asleep. She was only allowed to work 4 days a week with the task force and this would be one of those days where she had to study hella hard since she wouldn't be able to every Monday and Tuesday. She's in a few advanced classes and they've been getting harder now that she can't focus all her attention on her classes. But damn, she was so tired today! But even so, a simple poke on the back woke her up.

"Excuse me ma'am, are you alright?" A soft voice asked. She stirred around before looking over at the owner of that voice, furrowing her eyebrows together. "Y/N?"

"Light?" Y/N asked, her face turning red in embaressment. "Oh! I'm sorry, were you going to sit here?" She asked eagerly as she gathered her things and put them in together as fast as possible.

"Oh no! I was just checking to see if you were okay, so please do whatever," Light responded. Y/N continued to blush as she mumbled an oh before setting her things back down.

"Sorry, haha... I sometimes get sorta caught up in my studies," she admitted, earning a chuckle from Light.

"No worries. I'd be glad to help if needed. What grade are you in?" Light asked as he set his coffee down on the table, sitting down besides her.

"Senior year. 18 and still can't grow up," she added a self depreciating comment as she rubbed her tired eyes and yawned. Light shook his head, brushing his hand in the air to singal "it's okay".

"No need to be so harsh on yourself. After all, everyone learns in a different way and perhaps the way you're teaching yourself isn't the right way. Instead of reading equations and writing down answers, let's try drawing out pictures of those equations and adding references." Light took the pencil from her side and and began to draw and write put several equations and problems. Needless to say, in about an hour, Y/N had understood every single thing she had worked on.

"You're doing great," Light complimented as he looked over Y/N's paper. Y/N giggled nervously, a Light blush coming to her cheeks.

"Thanks, with your help though," she replied. Light shook his head and handed back the paper.

"Not at all. I just showed you a new technique and told you what you got wrong. It was all you." Y/N thanked him once more before taking a sip of her coffee. It was maybe 9am by now and perhaps she should get going.

"It's getting a bit late. I need to go home soon," she spoke sadly. Light nodded, standing up from the table while Y/N collected her things. "Thanks again, by the way. Especially for staying with me for, like, an hour. That must be hard, heh heh."

Light chuckled, shaking his head. "You need to belive in yourself a little more, y'know. However, anyways, I suppose we should get going now. It was nice seeing you again, Y/N. I look forward to our next encounter." They walked each other out the door before finally saying their last goodbye and parting ways.

~~~

In no time, Light was part of the police task force as well. Side by side Y/N, who graduated with him, someone who he had got close to since their first visit in the cafe. Hell, this far into each other's company and how close they must be true to work, some may even say there's love. Light was that tall, sweet, intelligent, caring boy who never breaks in situations. Y/N was that kind, self-deprecating, cheerful but can be serious, smart, and thorough girl who looks as dumb as a rock. They're very similar in some places and different in others, which is the perfect mix.

"To be honest," Y/N sighed. "I'm really starting to doubt L. He focuses on you way too much, and we really don't have time for that. People are being killed everyday and nothing's being done to stop it." Light nodded, sighing as well. They sat on the top stairs of the roof of the headquarters. "And Kira's supporters give me mixed feelings as well. I understand that what Kira is doing seems righteous, I truly do. They say how these people were never the hero so why should they live? They should live because they shouldn't have to be heroes."

Y/N couldn't help but vent her feelings. After all, a tragic incident had happened to he recently so she couldn't help it. Light picked up on her way more serious attitude towards the investigation and asked what's pushing her so hard. After a little persuasion, he got her to talk about it in a private place. The whole time, she was trying her best to hold in tears when she spoke. "It's bothering me that these supporters think their morally right for thinking the way they do... My uncle, he was killed by Kira last week. And these supporters, they laugh and taunt him because hehe made a mistake when he was young," Y/N hissed, her tears threatening to fall.

"My uncle didn't mean to do it! He was friends with an officer who came over to his house for a party! They got drunk and my uncle wanted to scare awake his friend using a gun he thought was unloaded. He got to watch his best friend's head explode all over his fucking house, all because of a stupid mistake? I was 5 years old, going to the prison every week to him for the little amount of time I could. The officers who would search the visitors knew me; she knew me and who I was going to see, a kindergartener who was scared and hurt by the loss of her uncle. Due to the shooting being accidental, he had less time to serve. And that day, that day where he'd be free, Kira did it. It's fucking disgusting."

Light listened with a frown on his face, patting her back and she hugged her knees and began to cry. It's a shame, really. He sat out there with her for maybe two more minutes before she calmed down.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N. I had no idea," Light spoke sadly, frowning. Y/N shook her head a smile forming on her face. It was clearly force and unhappy, but at least it made Y/N cry less.

"No, no, don't be. I kinda should've expected this. My uncle was a great, funny guy and I wish the world knew that. But anyway," Y/N wiped her tears as she stood up. She extended a hand for Light to take, which he did with a soft smile on his features, and pulled him up. A soft blush hit she cheeks when a

#light x you #light yagami x reader #light x reader #light yamagi #death note x reader #death note #light yagami x you #light yagami x y/n #light yagami #light x y/n #light x fem reader #light yagami x fem reader

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nsheetee · 4 years

Note

Can I request idol!Jisung and idol!Reader being rumored to be in a relationship and then getting caught kissing/making out in a private area

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 || Final

details: female reader, some kissing at the end

it’s the first you’re coming over to the dream dorm

jisung told you to dress comfortably since the most you’ll probably be doing is just hanging out

yet, you still felt the need to apply some cherry lip gloss and clip some pins in your hair

you stopped by a convenience store, buying some snacks so that you don’t go to the dorm empty-handed

you feel like you’re about to meet your boyfriend’s parents, not his friends and colleagues

but it could almost be counted as the same thing

you know how protective dream is over jisung, your own group has the same attitude towards you

your phone buzzes in your pocket and you attempt to dig it out without dropping the bags in your hands

“when will you be here?”

“hurry up!”

“everyone’s waiting to meet you ;-;”

you snort at jisung’s texts, trying to type back a response with only one hand, but he sends another text before you can send a reply

“I’m nervous.”

you stare at his message, small butterflies erupting in your stomach at the two words on your screen

although you and jisung have only been dating for a few months, he brought up how he wanted you to meet the dreamies now rather than later

you’ll never forget his justification for the decision:

“these guys are important in my life, and so are you. I want the two important parts of my life to meet.”

just the memory of your shy and awkward boyfriend saying those words to you makes you giddy, and you type back a text with a smile on your face

“me too. I think that just means this is something we care about.”

you put your phone back in your pocket as you walk the rest of the way to the dorm

you climb some flights of stairs once you’re in the building, and then find the door with the number that jisung told you

after knocking on the door, you hear some ruckus on the other side

some shouting and thudding, and then a shrill “park jisung! your girlfriend’s here!” before the door opens to reveal the one and only jisung

“hi! I brought some snacks.” you hold up the bags by your head as you make eye contact with jisung, chenle, and renjun

“I love her already.” chenle muses, making jisung send him a fatal glare

“you didn’t have to.” jisung mumbles to you, taking the bags out of your hands and allowing you to step into the dorm, closing the door behind you

“I couldn’t come here empty-handed, not when you guys are nice enough to let me join your boardgame night.”

“and now I love her, too.” renjun muses

after properly being introduced to chenle and renjun, the four of you walk into the dining room where jaemin and jeno are setting up drinks, a pile of boardgames in the middle of the dining table

“make more room, jisung’s girlfriend brought snacks.” chenle hollers, and jisung recedes into his hoodie, cheeks glowing bright pink as he hands off the snacks to jeno

“hey, she has a name.” jisung still stands up to his best friend despite his small voice and chenle starts teasing him, pulling his hoodie strings tight and attempting to tie them while jisung struggles to get away

“hi, I’m y/n.” you decide to introduce yourself to jeno and jaemin, and they politely greet you.

“are you sure you’re jisung’s girlfriend?” jeno asks, head tilting as he sets out the snacks you bought, “you seem too mature to be dating him.”

you laugh bashfully at the indirect compliment, your brain too scrambled to say anything back

“ah, don’t you know, jeno? opposites attract.” jaemin speaks as if he’s a wise, old man, “and besides, I think it’s good that y/n is more mature than jisung. it balances out.”

“I like jisung for how silly he is. it makes me feel free and relaxed.” you blurt out, sending jisung a glance over your shoulder to find him still play-fighting with chenle

“oooooooh.” jeno, jaemin, and renjun exclaim, now making you recede back into your jacket, realizing what absolute fluff just came out of your mouth about their group member

soon enough, all six of you are sitting around the table, getting ready to play the first game of the night: uno

you really wanted to sit next to jisung, but before he could make it to your side, chenle and jaemin sit down in the seats on your left and right, forcing jisung to sit across from you on the round table

you could tell he isn’t super happy about the seating arraignment, but you lightly kick his foot under the table to get his attention and send him a smile

the first round of uno was more intense and drama-filled than anything you’ve ever seen before

cards flying

people screaming (mostly chenle, and right in your ear too)

dramatic falling down onto the floor when they loose (mostly renjun)

your stomach hurts with their antics, face hot from the amount of exertion it took to play a simple round of uno

you decide that it would be best to try a different game after jeno is forced to put his head down on the table to calm himself after losing to jaemin, the champ of the game

you played several more (less energy-filled) games, conversation flying across the table easily, as if you all have been friends for years rather than just a few hours

you freely told the dreamies about yourself, mostly things you could find on the internet, but you were happy to share these facts face to face

they apologized for haechan’s absence, as he’s with nct 127

and then promptly tried to pry you for information on your group’s next comeback

it was all fun and games, you truly loved spending time with jisung and his group members, and whatever nervousness you felt on your way here dissipated throughout the night

soon, you’re getting texts from your group members to come back to your own dorm, saying that it’s too late and you have a full schedule tomorrow

you say your goodbyes to the dreamies, allowing jisung to walk you down the stairs and out the front door of the building

“you don’t have to walk me to the bus station, I can make it there myself.” you say lightly, but he shakes his head

“no really. it’s okay, I’m not going to make you walk by yourself at night.”

jisung looks so good in the night sky, his cheeks permanently lifted up and his skin shining with youth

you turn away from him before you get caught staring, walking next to him with your hands in your coat pockets

you both keep your heads on a swivel for any fans with cameras or paparazzi that may recognize you and want to take pictures

your relationship hasn’t been revealed, but there have been rumors circling around

it’s all fan speculation, the way you and jisung interact at award shows and on a few radio shows you’ve been on together

except it’s not speculation at all, your fans are definitely correct about you two dating, but the time to reveal your relationship has not come yet

“so… did you like hanging out with the members?” he asks

“yeah! I was nervous, but they’re so fun that I forgot about my nerves after we started playing.” you laugh and glance at jisung

he has a stern look on his face, and it makes your smile drop

“what’s wrong?”

“n-nothing. it’s nothing.” jisung is quick to turn away and deny the look on his face, but you can tell something doesn’t sit right with him.

“no. tell me what’s wrong?” you gasp, “was it me? did I do something bad?”

“no! no, not at all. I just…” he mumbles the end of his sentence and you lean in to hear better

“what was that?” he sighs at your question

“I just wanted to…”

“to do what?” you frown at how he keeps avoiding the situation, and jisung finally sighs loudly and blurts out his full sentence

“I just wanted to sit next to you! jaemin kept putting his arm around your chair and you kept talking to him, and I wanted to do all that stuff.”

you both stop walking, your eyes wide as jisung voices his feelings with his whole chest

you bit your lip, not sure how to contain all of the emotions brewing in you at his confession

jisung is never one to outright say how he’s feeling, but now that he has, it makes you too weak to handle his heartfelt thoughts

“you’re my girlfriend, after all.” he finishes, looking down at your shoes and shuffling his feet

there’s something in you that has no regard for where you are, how this might look to others walking on the street, or what the possible consequences of your next actions might be

you just want to kiss jisung

stepping forward and grabbing the ends of his jacket, you force him to look at you, silently asking with your eyes if this is okay

as a responce, jisung wraps his arms around your middle and brings you closer

you step up onto his feet and reach up, your lips meeting in a sweet kiss

he helps you balance on his feet, keeping you tight against him as he looses himself in the kiss

jisung loves how your cherry lip gloss tastes on his lips and how your cold hands feel as they slide up his chest and caress his cheek and neck

he rubs one of his large hands up and down your back, surprising himself and you when you shudder against him at the action

he just wants more

more of your kisses

more of you

but he remembers where you two are, and pulls away

your lip gloss has transferred over to his lips, and you giggle as your thumbs reach up to wipe away the stains

this side of jisung is so precious, you attempt to take in every single ounce of it before he turns back into the jisung you know so well

your affectionate touches are cut off by talking, and you and jisung turn to glance down the pathway, near where the illuminated bus stop is

several men hover near each other with big cameras, lenses pointed directly at you two

you both freeze, realizing what those cameras must’ve just caught

“uh oh”

you step away from jisung, but before you can get too far, he grabs your hand and you both run the opposite way from the bus stop, back to the dorm

the only thoughts filling your mind are how the next few weeks, maybe even months will be spent dealing with the events that happened tonight

but you can’t help the smile that plays on your face when you can finally let everyone know that park jisung is your boyfriend

#park jisung #jisung #jisung fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream au #nct jisung #nct dream jisung #jisung scenarios #jisung x reader #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct bulleted au #jisung bulleted au #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream drabbles

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Yamata-No-Orochi (End) Wild Things of the Light King’s Blood

Why is this series called Yamata-No-Orochi? Because the Yamata-No-Orochi is a serpent that holds the body of the White King. Why this is significant will be clear in the end. Please stay tuned. @rurifangirl by request

The old train continued its leisurely pace towards the city lights of Tokyo in the pouring rain. In the dark and the torrential downpour, one could easily imagine it was a ghost car. In a way, it was a ghost car, because the only passengers on board were two women who shouldn’t exist in the world.

One, a raven haired beauty from Russia who should have died 20 years ago in a bombing and the other, a red haired beauty from Japan who should have been a deadpool by now and until a few days ago was forbidden to see the sun.

The fiery haired girl cried quietly into the back of the head of her giant teddy bear while you, the black haired Russian, rubbed her back and whispered softly for her to let it all out. For now, you two were all you had for company.

“Hey,” you say, “I know it seems like the end, but that man loves you.”

She looks up at you with wide red pupils and then scribbles something on the pad. “But my family doesn’t like him. I’ll never see him again.”

You gently tilt her head up, placing your fingertips under her little chin. “Remember what we said? Good friends are a little crazy. Don’t let things like family make you stop believing in your good friends, Erii.”

Even though you were younger than Erii by 3 years, she already looked up to you as an older woman and nodded obediently.

“I want to be more than your good friend though.” You roll up your shirt under your bra and show her the mottling of golden scales that had started to appear since last night. “We share the blood of the White King and a common sickness. I want to be your sister.”

Her eyes expanded. She scribbled down. “I’ve always wanted a sister!”

“Did you wish for one over the sea? Because this dream has come true. Hm…” You hum to yourself. “Let’s make it official in a vow of sisterhood.”

She sat up straight, her expression serious.

You place your hand over your heart. “I, MC, hereby vow to be the Sister of Erii Uesugi. We are bound by blood and by love. We will never betray each other. We will always defend each other. And when one calls for help, we will dash to their rescue and if anyone comes between us, may they die!”

Erii scribbled down in her notebook those same words and then she signed her name, and you signed yours.

You continued to make up this silly ritual. “Now, put your hand against my hand, sister.”

Your palms met.

“Twine your fingers.”

You clasp your hands together. Once she bought into it. You reach across with your other hand and goose her ribs!

Erii squealed and then clapped her hand over her mouth in terror! But you didn’t break your smile. You only giggled. “Sisters do things like this.” You say.

Her face was red with fear but also a bit of indignation, but underneath it all was joyous warmth. “I will find a way to trick you too!”

You sit back. “Sister, I want to ask you something. How is it that you can live so long? Your physical condition is not good. I felt it when I touched you. You have so many more scales than me.”

She scribbled down for a long time before turning the page to you. “I live because of the serum injections. The injections contain fetal blood of deadpool. Because the blood is embryonic, it has a purifying and not corrupting effect.”

“Hm…” That’s why deadpool spawning tanks were under Genji Heavy Industries. They were being bred and the blood of the fetuses were being injected into Erii. “Thank you.”

“If you come with me, I will convince my brother to treat you.” She writes.

You place your hand over hers. “Don’t worry for me. I have time. I already have a man who has guaranteed my safety.”

Erii’s mouth made a little ‘o’.

“I need to return to him. So I will get off the train early. Please rest and get better so I can take you dog sledding.”

The train made its meandering track towards Tokyo. You were one stop before Matsuyama station, however, the train started to slow. It was far too late to be picking up passengers.

Erii had fallen asleep in your arms and you tilted her head away from you and reached for your deadpool claw dagger. A man in a long cloak stepped onto the train. When his foot landed at the door, the entire car tilted as though he weighed thousands of pounds! The rainwater was rising off him in a steaming cloud and when he breathed, he hissed like a steam engine.

You give Erii one last glance and decide it was not time to be subtle or afraid. You would simply disappear with this monster. You rush forward, as fast as a pouncing lioness! The deadpool under the cloak surged with blue light, lifting its cloak and revealing its dinosaur clawed feet, and its blue-black scaled body. It arced its back and opened its mouth to roar, but you throw the dagger into its throat to silence it and then take a flying leap and kick it out of the train car.

You both land hard on the platform and you snatch your dagger out from the back of its throat and land in a crouch to face it.

The beast chokes black blood a moment, lying on its back under the platform lights and then flips completely onto all fours in a single motion!

You leap backwards and it lands where you were, cracking the concrete beneath.

The train rumbles off to continue its journey to Tokyo the Matsuyama Station, while you lure the beast away from the car. It was an open air station with several spaces for busses. But the busses were no longer running. There wasn’t much cover and the streets were empty of people.

From your lesson in Genji, you understood that the nervous center is the weak point. But this beast came armed with vertebral spines to protect that sensitive area.

A strange whistling noise comes from above and you leap to one side. A dark shape pierces the ground where you stood and then lifts, carrying bits of concrete with it. The shape moved like a loose cable, waving in the air to toss aside the rubble. Then it descends! You throw yourself back, narrowly escaping being impaled! It whips and the tip slashes side to side, nearly taking your head off and tearing into your T-shirt.

The deadpool was crouching low, a distance away, but a long tail, twice as long as the length of its body, was waving. A single muscle twitch sends the barbed sword-like tail tip into the ground with stunning accuracy!

You nod once and start backing up. The beast spider-walks toward you and the tail lashes out! You leap up and the sword tail slices clear through a street lamp behind you. The lamp crashes down towards the monster and shatters. Even though the lamp missed, it was enough distraction to let you get inside its tail range. You run directly towards it. Its mouth opens to reveal six inch long sharp teeth and it lifts a hand full of daggers.

Your movements are delicate and precise, threading the needle between the deadly bite and the deadly piercing hooks to plunge your dagger into the side of its neck and draw down, slicing through its throat, but you hit only muscle. The neck itself was armored! Now that you were inside, however, you would not back away. You leap to the other side, committing little non-lethal cuts to its back that wouldn’t hurt at all, trying to find an opening through the bony plates. The beast chases you in a tight circle, spinning in the street. You can see the serrations on its teeth. The thin lines of saliva in its mouth. You breathe in its foul breath.

You have taken hold of one of its dorsal spines nearest the back of its head. So the faster it turns, the faster you turn, like a dog chasing its tail. You pierce it again and again until the spine starts to lift off its back.

Then you mount it, its blood soaking between your legs and you stab downward, looking for the spine. Frustrated and in agony, the beast rears up, lifting you nearly 10 feet in the air in an instant, screaming, tail waving. You scramble to hold on and not get thrown by the momentum. Your eyes widen as you hear that deadly whistle and you let go and crash to the ground hard.

You sit up and the beast is standing upright, mouth open in shock, the barbed tip of its own tail protruding through the back of its own head! You were like an annoying fly that landed on its head and it killed itself in its attempt to swat you. It falls forward so hard that cracks appear in the ground where it lands.

You sit wondering. You were someone who was adept at using the God’s Eyes fighting technique, but this time you surprised yourself.

Screeching tires heralded a roaring black sedan as it careered around the corner. The window was down and a long rifle emerged from it! You turned and scrambled to your feet. The bullet shattered against the wall of a building, blowing dust and stinging bits of masonry into your face. Your eyes scan for cover but there is none sufficient to shield you. That bullet was big enough to completely shatter your skull!

Your heart leaps at the sight of a tall figure in the dark who was suddenly illuminated by headlights. He was dressed in period clothing, a long red Kimono with flowing ornamental embroidery of Lycoris Radiata. He pulled a red sheath from his sleeve as you ran toward him, gasping in desperation. As soon as he pulled the sword from its sheath, a great wind gust blew by you.

The black sedan collides with that wind and bursts apart, shattering as if it hit a concrete barrier head on.

Ruri Kazama holds the bright silver blade aloft and you duck behind him, and then he brings it down hard. Another blade like wind slices the car clean in half.

“How did you know I was here?” You gasp.

“There was a report of a deadpool. I may not be a member of Hydra or of Cassell, but all Hybrid species have an obligation to clear these beasts. I’ll let my brother’s men take care of the rest of this mess. Come, we need to hide.” When he gathers you against the silk of his cloak you can smell the scent of tobacco.

Hand in hand, you run through the heavy rain to a waiting car. As soon as you’re inside, it peels off into the night, driving full speed and crashing through the deep street flooding. “Ruri Kazama. I gave you all my star-hearts.”

“I know. I’ve been looking for you, but you disappeared.”

You look up into his dark eyes. They were serious as they scanned you for injuries. You quickly gasp and cover your torn shirt with your arms. “I want to join you to help you defeat Herzog. Caesar and Chu Zihang cannot bear my presence any longer. They fear I might lose control. Caesar says I’m better with my own kind.”

Ruri turns away from you. “Then you care nothing for me?”

You gasp hurriedly. “That’s not it at all. It turns out you were right. I am a perishing flower. I just didn’t know anything. But… I’m not giving up. I don’t think my death is inevitable. And I won’t throw my life away for anyone. I don’t want you to either.”

He stares down at you and you realize that he is older than you but not by much. He is older in spirit. Looking up at him was like looking at an ancient dragon. His long black hair frames his gentle boyish face and again your eyes blur the line between man and woman.

“If you will have me, I’ll be yours.” You say. “Only, you must fight to live and not to die. You must not die for me. That is not noble. It's terrible! I don’t care what anyone else says. Understand?” You look into those eyes and you’re again reminded of an impossibly deep pool where you couldn’t ever see the bottom. His eyes were like the lake of Baikal that reached down, deep and cold into the center of the Earth’s crust.

He was silent. You feel like you’re stepping out of bounds, but you have to have this promise. This was nothing like the touching moment between you and Chance. You feel like your spilling your guts in a hurry, rushing through the vows on your wedding day. “Don’t throw your life away. Not for me. Not for anyone. Are you listening? If death comes, it comes but don’t you give yourself to it. Don’t! Find another way out. Or fight.”

His silence sent cracks up and down your fragile heart and then you remembered that you couldn’t accept this either at first. It took three times before you stopped seeking death.

Much to your shock, you return to the Takamagahara Night Club. You wonder if he’s getting rid of you. You both get out of the car and he holds out an umbrella over your head and cradles your body under his arm. Together, you walk through the doors. “You live here right? The other aces have not returned yet. Bathe and dress and meet me behind the bar.”

One of the waiters offers you a large jacket over your shivering shoulders.

His eyes are still serious and deep, but they had softened looking at you. “I accept your proposal.”

#Dragon Raja

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thesaltysocialworker · 4 years

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A Million Dreams

Hi people, I’m still kicking! I was just going through a terrible period of writers block. I listen to music in the shower and one of my favorites has been the soundtrack to The Greatest Showmn with Hugh Jackman. The song “A Million Dreams” came on and I was inspired to write this fic which turned out a bit more angsty than I intended it to be. It’s kind of about how Loki lost himself and his loved ones to his lust for the crown.

Enjoy, stay healthy and safe loyal readers! <3

A Million Dreams

Word Count: 3, 009

Warnings: Maybe a teeny bit of Angst

“I would make you my Queen, and we’d be respected throughout the nine realms.” You giggled, spinning around and the leaves danced around you as though there was a breeze. But there was none, and Loki was enchanted again by your magic. “I don’t need the whole nine realms, silly. I just need you. You’re my best friend.”

I close my eyes and I can see

The world that’s waiting up for me

That I call my own

Through the dark, through the door

Through where no one’s been before

But it feels like home.

They can say, they can say it all sounds crazy

They can say, they can I’ve lost my mind.

I don’t care, don’t care so call me crazy.

We can live in a world in that we design.

“Loki, look out!”

The tiny y/h/c girl raced towards where the youngest Prince had become a victim of his older brother’s torment and pranks with his friends. Despite being smaller than Thor and Fandral, you had never backed down when they came for your best friend. You took a deep breath, stopping before them. “You think I’m afraid of a little girl?” Thor sneered, Loki’s nose was already bleeding from the beating he had taken and in your anger you unleashed a power that you need you had but were too young to control. Thor suddenly went flying through the air with a simple wave of your hand. He flew over hedges, and landed squarely in a near-by pond.

“Witch!” Fandral shrieked as he ran to help his friend. Unfortunately your actions hadn’t gone unnoticed by the adults. Queen Frigga and her ladies—including your mother—gasped when Thor dropped into the pond with a splash. “Y/n, come here right now!” Your mother raged, and despite not regretting what you’d done you knew you’d face punishment. Loki grabbed your hand, pulling you further into the gardens with him. Your mother’s fury became a distant memory as you disappeared into the depths of the garden where no one would know to look for you aside for Loki.

“You’re still bleeding.” You panted, moving to stand upright. You pressed your hand to the young man’s chest, and when you removed your hand the blood was gone. “You shouldn’t have done that, y/n! I would’ve eventually bested Thor!” Loki’s pale features were tinted red in embarrassment. You stood there, unyielding. You met Loki when it became clear the two of shared similar magic and began training together. One thing you had learned quite quickly is that Loki didn’t like being second place to anyone. Especially Thor. “I’m tired of seeing him beat up on you. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” Loki glared at you, and instead of returning his glare you broke his anger by making a goofy face and sticking out your tongue.

He laughed, it was weak but it was still a laugh. “Now we have to figure out how to get revenge.” You started. Loki’s grin widened. “Sending him for a swim was brilliant, y/n. How’d you do that?” His embarrassment was forgotten. You moved to stand behind him, your tiny arms reaching around his lithe frame and moving his hands a certain way. The blast of energy that was released was enough to blow all the leaves of a near-by hedge. “I wish I had your natural talent, y/n. Then they’d respect me, and my father would make me King.” It always came down to the crown with Loki, the one thing he coveted above all other things, or so you thought.

‘Cause every night I lie in bed

The brightest colors fill my head

A million dreams are keeping me awake

I think of what the world could be

A vision of the world I see

A million dreams is all its gonna take

A million dreams of the world we’re gonna make.

“You’re staring, brother.”

Loki watched y/n laughing and chatting with her friends over that evenings feast. Childhood friends had turned into lovers with stolen kisses in alcoves in hallways. But you had never officially put a title on what you were to him; he had never made a specific request to court you. You had stopped laughing with your girlfriends, smiling at Loki from your seat in the crowd. His eyes were always on you, and yours on him. “I am not.” Loki uttered, taking a sip of his spiced mead. Thor grinned as he glanced over at y/n, whose eyes went right back to her dinner plate. “She’s wearing green, Loki. It speaks volumes to her other suitors. They assume you’re courting her.” Thor added.

“What other suitors?!” Loki asked a bit too loudly. Thor seemed shocked that is brother hadn’t noticed. “It was questionable at first but she did grow up to be quite a Sorceress, and a beautiful woman. Other men have tried to court her and she’s turned the down. I thought you knew.” It fueled Loki’s jealousy and tainted the rest of his evening. As everyone else turned to dancing and merriment he fumed over his glass of mead. You had lingered with your girlfriends as a wallflower, your eyes still on Loki. He didn’t move until he saw another man approach you and offer you his hand.

Loki pushed his chair away from the table and practically marched to where you lingered with your friends. “Y/n, may I have this dance?” He asked, and you accepted his hand without an apology to the other young man. You let him bring you out onto the floor, spinning among the others in a courtly waltz. “I didn’t think you’d ever ask.” You spoke with a soft smile and a blush that Loki found endearing. “I thought you were content to linger at your table with the mead.”

“I don’t like the thought of anyone putting their hands on my Queen.” Loki added softly, his fingers brushing against the cut-out in the back of your dress, his hands caressing your soft skin. “You haven’t called me that since we were young.” You whispered, moving closer to him like a planet in orbit. The waltz was normally more formal, and the two of you were getting dangerously close to breaking protocol. “Are you—being courted by other men?” He asked, his eyes connecting with yours. “Yes.” You never lied to him, and he respect you immensely for that even when he didn’t want to hear it.

“Are any of them contenders?” He asked. You sighed dramatically. “One. He’s kind of oblivious sometimes though. Real wanker, always wears this color green. Thinks he’s royalty or something.” You teased, causing Loki to chuckle. The waltz finished, and you curtsied. “Leave here with me.” You whispered just loud enough so he could hear you. He waited a few moments after you left before he followed after you into the hallways. Most people had disappeared from the hallways, either going into the garden with their lovers, going to their rooms or to other parties. As Loki came into the hallway, you turned onto your heels and started running; your skirt whipping around your ankles. Loki gave chase, both of you laughing as you raced through the hallways like you’d done as young children.

You stopped when he appeared in front of you, realizing too quickly that it was one of his clones. As you stopped, he came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You kept laughing until you were nears tears, Loki hoisting you against the wall. Your legs went on either side of his waist, and he brushed a stray piece of hair from your face. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before he kissed you. If you were struggling to breathe before, Loki’s kiss truly knocked the wind out of you. Your lips moved against his and his hands moved over your body.

“Be mine.” Loki whispered against your lips. “Truly, let me court you.” You shook your head, meeting his beautiful eyes. “I’ve always been yours, Loki. You don’t need to court me. But if it makes you feel better I’ll let you woo me with fancy dinners and gifts.”

There's a house we can build

Every room inside is filled

With things from far away

The special things I compile

Each one there to make you smile

On a rainy day

They can say, they can say it all sounds crazy

They can say, they can say we've lost our minds

I don't care, I don't care if they call us crazy

Runaway to a world that we design

You paced outside of the throne room, knowing this was the moment that Loki was going to speak to Odin about the two of you marrying. After what felt like an eternity Loki came out of the throne room looking so regal that it took your breath away. As soon as the doors closed behind him he moved to you and lifted you into his arms. “He said yes.” Loki announced, spinning you around slowly. You bent down, your hands cupping his face as you kissed him with all the passion and excitement coursing through your body.

You slid down till your feet touched the ground but you still felt like you were floating. Most of the women at court would’ve loved to be a Princess, most of them probably would’ve preferred Thor but they still would’ve married Loki for the prestige. You wanted the man; you loved the man. “You know what this means?” Loki asked, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“We’re getting married!” You announced with nothing short of absolute excitement and glee, the guards outside the door trying not to gawk or laugh at the two of your public displays of affection. You never thought Odin would agree. You were nothing more than a daughter of a lady-in-waiting. You were a powerful Sorceress, yes. But you still lacked any noble bloodline. “It means that I have a wife, I’ll be married before Thor. It puts us in a better position to be King and Queen. We’ll have to make sure we work quickly to produce heirs.”

You were flabbergasted. “Excuse me, your Majesty. Can we focus on one thing at a time? Can we get married first before we start talking about children and coronations?” Through your sarcasm, you were hurt. Your pride was injured, had he asked his father to marry you to put you above Thor or was because he really wanted to marry you? “Of course, of course. I’m sorry, Love. I’m jumping ahead of things. We have to go talk to your mother and the way she feels about my, uh—influence on you—she very could say no.” Loki grinned, completely forgetting his earlier train of thought. You chuckled, your mother had not always been overly fond of the trickster Prince.

You took his hand and let him lead you away from the throne room and towards your mother’s quarters. He interlaced his fingers in yours. You felt the familiar brush of magic at your fingers and brought your intertwined hands up to glance at them. You were struck by the beautiful large emerald engagement ring set in a gold band. “It’s beautiful.” You uttered, near tears. “Only the best for my Queen.” Loki echoed, putting your fears back in the forefront of your mind.

Every night I lie in bed

The brightest colors fill my head

A million dreams are keeping me awake

I think of what the world could be

A vision of the one I see

A million dreams is all it's gonna take

A million dreams for the world we're gonna make

“I can’t believe he chose Thor! He chose that oaf over me!”

The sheer rage in Loki’s voice frightened you, and it didn’t get any better when Loki picked up the closest thing to him and tossed it at the wall of your chambers; it happened to be a vase and he damn near took your head off with it. “Loki, please stop! You’re scaring me!” You were clad in your emerald green attire that matched your husbands. It’d been a beautiful, simple ceremony attended only by close family and friends. Things had been perfect until now, or so you wanted to believe. You knew Odin had been close to making a decision about his predecessor and Loki had obsessed over it for days. You couldn’t even distract him by trying to make love with him. He’d been writing his speech for his coronation.

“What does he have that I don’t, y/n?! Brute strength and a short temper?! That doesn’t make a good King!” You didn’t know what to say; you felt somewhat relieved because you’d been terrified to be a Princess of Asgard, let alone a Queen. “Loki, this means we can be free! We don’t have to stay here, we’re not bound to Asgard. We can do what we want!” You tried to reach for his hands, trying to find the positive of it. He shoved your hands away. “Did you ever want this, y/n? Did you somehow manage to sabotage my chance to be King?” He asked, his voice dripping with rage and sarcasm. His eyes had darkened, his skin was paler. It was like the man you knew weeks earlier when you had married him was gone; replaced by some bitter husk of a man that wanted to live in his self-loathing.

“How dare you! I’ve done everything I can to support you in your dreams and ambitions since we were children! I’ve spent weeks with the horrible noble ladies of this court trying to learn their ways and my expectations as a Princess of this realm. I did it all for you!” You roared, feeling like throwing something yourself. You didn’t care if the house staff heard you; they knew the two of you could have quite the row and then make-up just as loudly.

“Perhaps I should’ve married one of those noble ladies. Perhaps their status would’ve elevated me in my father’s eyes as opposed to marrying you.” The way he accented the word ‘you’ made it sound like you were vermin, something replaceable, something ugly. “I don’t know what to do with you, Loki. I’ve tried to be the good wife to you, but my intuition was right. I’ll always be secondary to your thirst for the crown, and for power.” You were cold, but your voice was soft. Perhaps he realized he had pushed you too far. You slid your engagement ring and wedding band off your finger, setting it on the nightstand. Loki was lost in his sorrow, you brushed past him and he didn’t stop you. That was your breaking point as tears started to spring in your eyes as you left the room with a slam of the door.

However big, however small

Let me be part of it all

Share your dreams with me

You may be right, you may be wrong

But say that you'll bring me along

To the world you see

To the world I close my eyes to see

I close my eyes to see

You didn’t know where else to go, you went to your mother who let you into her chambers with open arms. She held you while you sobbed. She knew, she knew everything because she one of the Queen’s ladies in waiting. “He’s not the man I fell in love with, Mother. I don’t know who he is anymore. He’s obsessed with power. What do I do? I can’t stay here, I can’t go back to him!”

It took a few days, but Loki started coming to your mother’s rooms and started begging to talk to you. Your mother refused, and in the face of her defiance Loki had tried to go to the King and Queen for support; whom also refused to grant him entry to see you until you were ready. For that you were thankful. Initially, you had planned to leave Asgard. You didn’t know where you were going to go, truthfully you knew there was no place in the nine realms you could where Loki wouldn’t look for you. Besides, Asgard and this court where your home, too. Why should you have to leave?!

You tried to stand by his side, tried to reach out to him and bring back to the boy you had fallen in love with but you knew he was gone. You knew he had started seeing mistresses, but you refused to care. You were done trying, you had put forth the effort and he had refused to meet you half way. Anything would have been fine, any attempt to reach out. It would be better than feeling like you were a widow. But you did keep up appearances as necessary. It was the only time he touched you or even acknowledged your existence anymore.

You knew his mood would be dire during Thor’s coronation, but much to your surprise he actually looked amused and he was smirking. It made your blood run cold. “What’re you up too?” You asked, moments before you were supposed to enter the hall where the masses of Asgard had gathered. “Now you’re interested in my comings and goings?” He asked, his voice snide as he refused to look at you. It wasn’t so much that you were interested, but you suddenly had a bad feeling in your gut and you had become fearful for Thor. There was nothing Loki wouldn’t do for the crown, nothing that he wouldn’t throw aside; even his family and those who loved him.

Every night I lie in bed

The brightest colors fill my head

A million dreams are keeping me awake

A million dreams, a million dreams

I think of what the world could be

A vision of the one I see

A million dreams is all it's gonna take

A million dreams for the world we're gonna make

For the world we're gonna make.

Read Tightrope (part two) here.

Please consider supporting the starving artist/social worker if you’re able. :)

#loki imagines #loki odinson #loki friggason #tom hiddleston #reader x loki #thor #marvel #marvel imagine #loki layfeyson x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #avengers #avengers fanfiction

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princessjungeun · 3 years

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Chuuves Royalty AU~ Part 3

Sooyoung managed to sneak back onto the palace grounds successfully, however she didn’t make it into the palace unnoticed. The thing about her palace was that her sleeping chamber is on the front of the castle. That being said anyone who is by a window on the right side of the place will see the princess sneaking in and out of her chamber. Usually her favorite groundskeeper, Mark, is able to keep a watch for her.

Unfortunately Mark had fallen ill and would be out for another week. That being said, Sooyoung could only hope nobody was not only able to see her, but also waiting for her in her room.

The princess quickly climbed a nearby tree, she then rolled up her sleeves and looked around to see if anyone was watching. When she assumed the coast was clear she started to scale the palace wall—about two years ago Mark noticed Sooyoung climbing out of her window. He knew she had a way out but not in without going unnoticed. So he installed a few extra bricks along the palace wall to use as a climbing wall so she could sneak in and out with ease— Hyunjin left the window open for her as usual.

Sooyoung lost her footing at the last second as she was halfway through the window. Resulting in her face planting onto the floor. It was only now that she realized she had fallen at the feet of someone.

Her eyes traveled up and she saw her father standing over her, clearly peeved. Sooyoung stood up, and brushed her dress off. Smiling innocently she rocked back and forth on her toes, weakly saying “heyyy daddy...”

The king sternly told her “Ha Sooyoung! You have run off one too many times. Not only are you embarrassing yourself, but this entire empire. Why do you keep doing this to us?”

Sooyoung kicked off her shoes and flopped onto her bed, “you know I have no interest in letting a man control me and this empire when the time comes. Hell I don’t even WANT to be queen, just have another kid so I don’t

Her father sighed before saying “you have one more suitor coming tomorrow. Prince Jiseok of the south Kim Empire will be coming tomorrow. His younger sister is slightly younger than you, she will also be attending. You will be with her for hours before as well. This way you will not have a way to pull one of your games.”

Sooyoung deeply sighed, running a hand through her hair, “are you serious? I have to babysit this girl?” The king responded “Sooyoung, she is 21. Just slightly younger than you. To be quite honest she takes her position more than you. I hope you will learn from her.”

Sooyoung rolled her eyes, already tired of this conversation, “yeah yeah fine whatever. No games.”

The king nodded and said “thank you.” He snapped his fingers at Hyunjin and asked politely “if you could please help her clean up before bed please?” Hyunjin nodded and quickly pushed the princess towards the bathroom.

For the rest of the night Hyunjin was stuck listening to Sooyoung complain about how she didn’t want to meet another suitor.

•

The next morning Hyunjin woke Sooyoung up as she did every morning, dragging her out of bed while listening to her bitch and moan about whatever was planned for the day.

“Sooyoungie I think this won’t be as bad as you think. Heejin is close friends with Princess Jiwoo, apparently she’s very sweet.” Hyunjin tried her best to tell Sooyoung to calm down.

Sooyoung had eventually gave in after finding guards at every entrance and window of the castle. Her father had clearly ordered them to stand guard keeping Sooyoung home all day.

The princess complained the entire afternoon, Hyunjin honestly finding it quite funny. It wasn’t until another worker knocked on Sooyoung’s door th at she quit complaining.

“Excuse me, I would like to let the princess know that her guests have arrived. The king would like her to report downstairs to greet them promptly.” The young worker told Hyunjin to relay the message.

Sooyoung sat up on her bed and asked “aren’t they two hours early?”

Hyunjin checked her watch, nodding and saying “yes but the king wants you downstairs so that’s where we are going.”

Sooyoung rolled her eyes and slapped her tiara on her head. Hyunjin stopped her quickly, brushing her hair nicely and placing the tiara back on her head. Hyunjin once d her over quickly, “Just because you’re moody doesn’t mean you can’t look pretty.”

The princess smiled weakly before straightening her posture and heading downstairs.

Sooyoung looked around to see nobody in the main room of the castle. She turned to a guard and asked “where’s my dad?”

The guard replied “the king has called a meeting with Prince Jiseok privately in his study. The princess is in the garden, you may find her there along with her handmaiden.”

Sooyoung sighed and thanked the guard, wandering into the garden.

Upon walking past the windows that lined the garden she saw the princess. Her black hair fell effortlessly behind her back, small bangs lightly covering her forehead. She could see the princess giggling as a butterfly landed on her nose, happily kicking her feet on the ground gently. Her smile was the brightest Sooyoung had ever seen, one that had seemed like it never faded, as if it never knew sadness.

“Sooyoungie lets not keep her waiting now.” Hyunjin held the door open, leading Sooyoung out to the garden.

The princess immediately stood up, smiling as she turned to face Sooyoung. The girl let out a high pitched squeal before hugging Sooyoung so tight she felt that her lungs would pop.

“Oh my goodness you are so pretty I can’t believe I’m meeting Ha Sooyoung of the Ha Empire. It’s such an honor! Oh goodness I can’t wait to be best friends! Oh this is my best friend and my handmaiden. Her name is Lalisa Manoban. She is such a good handmaiden oh my goodness this morning she killed this spider in my room. It was so big and scary I thought I was going to die! But she saved me isnt that so nice of her! Oh I see you have a handmaiden too whats her name?!” Jiwoo spoke at least 10 words per second and somehow Sooyoung managed to catch all of them.

Sooyoung stated “it’s nice to meet you too. This is Kim Hyunjin, she’s also my handmaiden and best friend.”

Sooyoung led Jiwoo to her bedroom, not wishing to stay in the outdoors any longer than she had to. Although Jiwoo was in fact very nice, Sooyoung just didnt click with her. She was loud and very excited about every little thing. Her energy was far higher than what Sooyoung was willing to tolerate.

Two hours into Jiwoo rambling on about how she wanted a pet penguin, Hyunjin and Lalisa were notified that the dinner was ready.

The two princesses headed to the main dining room alone with their handmaidens. Sooyoung noticed that second Jiwoo entered the room, her entire demeanor changed. The girl that was just whining about how she wanted a pet penguin was now standing tall, her chin held high with a subtle smile in her face.

“Good evening King Ha, it is a pleasure to meet you this evening.” Jiwoo spoke in an octave that Sooyoung didn’t think the other could actually use. For once her ears weren’t bleeding from the high pitched squeals and shrieks she was used to hearing.

“Good evening Princess Jiwoo, I see you spent time with my Sooyoung.” The king motioned to his daughter, a slight side eye to her as well.

Jiwoo smiled brightly “yes I did. Princess Sooyoung is very sweet, we had a good talk with each other.”

Sooyoung thought about how she did absolutely no talking in the two hours they spent together. She was snapped out of her trance when her father mentioned that she needed to introduce herself.

•

The dinner itself wasn’t terrible, Sooyoung’s favorite food was served after all. The princess didn’t fail to notice the way Jiwoo’s behavior was one she’d only even seen in her own mother, the queen. The way she was able to give clear and concise answers to every question the king asked. She knew everything about her empire down to each village. Jiwoo knew everything, even things she didn’t need to know, she knew. She was like little miss princess perfect and Sooyoung hated that.

“Jiwoo have you started looking for suitors yet? Perhaps thinking of getting married in the coming years?” The king asked, Sooyoung already knowing if Jiwoo answered yes that it’d be thrown in her face.

Jiwoo’s eyes flickered down then to her brother who nodded gently with a smile. She weakly responded “yes sir I have met a few princes. There hasn’t been one to catch my eye quite yet though. It is always a pleasure meeting new princes though. All of them have been quite polite to me, very good young men.”

The king replied “I wish my Sooyoung could say the same. She has run off upon meeting every suitor, like a little child. I wish she could learn. She is so immature, nothing like you-”

Jiwoo cut him off “I don’t wish to be disrespectful sir, but I think every prince and princess can choose how involved they wish to be with their people. It is not a competition, no need to compare us really.”

The king replied “I must disagree with you on that Princess Jiwoo. I think every child of a royal must be involved. I am saying I think it is very immature of Sooyoung to run off. She doesn’t know anything that happens in the villages either, hell I don’t think she even knows the villages. She does nothing but sit around all day then run off to another kingdom. She doesn’t even respect her own. It’s truly a pity I didn’t get a wonderful daughter like your parents did. You seem much more useful to the throne.”

Sooyoung’s mother gasped and said “Honey now I think that’s enough.” The queen saw the death grip her daughter had on the fork in her hand, the way her eyes were starting to burn with tears.

He continued on, “she doesn’t do anything. No matter what I try to say she doesn’t care. She is a lost cause. This empire deserves better than what she will ever offer it and that is a fact.”

Sooyoung stood up, pushing her seat back in with a loud slam. She flung the door open, walking out quickly, but not fast enough to hear her father say “and there she is running off again. Pathetic.”

#chuuves royalty au

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abundanceofsoph · 4 years

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SkyFire 3: Chapter 2

New York & Saturday Night Live: April 2017

Word count: 4.8k

SkyFire 3 MASTERLIST

Sorry it's been so long since the last chapter but I'm finally back at work after 75 days in lockdown. Updates will probably be a bit more spaced out than they were in Parts 1 & 2 but please know that I am still working away at it and I already have so many future chapters planned out that I'm really excited for.

This chapter is a bit of a long one and I thought about splitting it in half but figured you deserved the treat after waiting patiently.

Don't forget to leave a comment if you're enjoying the series and let me know what you think.

>Instagram posts

By the time Aurora woke up Monday morning, Harry’s side of the bed was cold, and he had long since left for the day. Since he would be appearing in multiple sketches on the upcoming episode of Saturday Night Live, he was needed for rehearsals all week. Aurora was thankful that she and the rest of the band weren’t needed until Friday and instead she was able to sleep in. Their flight had arrived in New York well after midnight and by the time they made their way to the tower they had both decided to head straight to bed. Aurora was fairly certain her father would have still been awake, working in his lab but she was far too tired for a reunion after hours on a plane.

Once she managed to roll herself out of bed and get dressed for the day ahead, Aurora made her way down the hall to the open plan kitchen/living area of the penthouse with its wide, floor to ceiling wall of windows looking out over the sprawling expanse of Central Park. Both Tony and Steve were sitting on the stools at the kitchen’s island bench, waiting for their daughter to wake up. Steve had seen Harry earlier that morning as he was leaving, and Steve had been coming back from his early morning run. Both he and Tony were eager to have their daughter home for an entire week and while Steve was happy to sip on his tea and read the morning while they waited, Tony was practically vibrating in his seat with barely contained excitement. Steve’d had to stop him twice from having JARVIS ‘accidentally’ wake Aurora up, so Tony was unsurprisingly the first out of his seat when she finally appeared.

Aurora was grinning widely and broke into a fit of giggles as her father rushed over and lifted her off the ground in a crushing hug. Despite having seen each other only two weeks ago, the craziness of the wedding hadn’t really allowed them much time to just hang out together and prior to the wedding they had spent a solid 5 months apart given the last minute changes to their Christmas plans in the wake of Johannah’s death.

“Missed you Dad,” she said, returning the tight hug.

“Missed you too Kiddo,” Tony replied, finally setting her back on her feet and allowing her to cross the room and fall into Steve’s arms.

The small family spent the entire day together, watching a movie and then moving down to Tony’s workshop in the afternoon so that he could work on a prototype for Stark Industries while Steve and Rori sketched on the sofa. It was reminiscent of how they had spent many evenings shortly after Rori first came to live with her fathers, the memories of those long nights brought a soft smile to her face as she sketched Dumm-e and Butterfingers, where they were attempting to help Tony, but instead were causing more problems than they were able to solve. Harry found them all there when he arrived back to the tower later that evening, grinning excitedly as he launched into his recounting of his first day with the SNL cast.

xXx

Since first meeting her father’s childhood best friend, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, three years ago, Aurora had slowly come to see him as a member of the family. For the first year that they had both lived in the tower together, they had coexisted amicably but had been far from friends, nothing close to the way Aurora was with the rest of the team. Even as her relationship with Sam had flourished quickly as he acclimatized to life as an Avenger she had struggled to be around Bucky. He hadn’t held her distant behaviour against her, knowing that while most of the team had been able to separate the actions of the Winter Soldier from Bucky himself, Aurora had struggled to accept into her home the man who had tried, on several occasions, to assassinate one of her fathers. Following the Columbia Shooting, she had surprised him by seeking him out during her recovery and their friendship had bloomed after her amputation surgery. Now, many years later Bucky easily filled the role of another uncle in Aurora’s life, a shift that had made Steve overwhelmingly happy.

It was late Tuesday afternoon and Steve went in search of his daughter, having not seen her since they’d shared lunch together. He expected to see her in the workshop with Tony, however his husband said he hadn’t seen her since breakfast. With the help of JARVIS he finally found her on one of the lower floors, the one shared by Sam, Bucky and Rhodey when he was in town. She was in the living room sitting across the table from Bucky, a game of Battleship between the pair. Steve suppressed a chuckle as he joined the pair, well aware by now of how much his best friend and his daughter enjoyed playing a variety of tabletop games together. Many arguments had been started over a game of backgammon or canasta.

“Who’s winning?” he asked, pulling up a chair beside Aurora and throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m kicking his ass,” she smiled.

“She’s getting cocky,” Buck replied, “and it’s going to backfire on her in a minute.”

“Of course it is,” Aurora said, her tone dripping in sarcasm.

The game continued for a while, Aurora cheering and taunting when she sunk another of Bucky’s ships, mocking him mercilessly when he continued to miss her own turn after turn.

“I don’t understand why you always beat me,” he moaned when she won. “I mean surely your luck has to run out eventually.”

“It’s not luck, Bucky,” Rori laughed. “It’s about strategy and reading your opponent and I hate to tell you, but you are entirely predictable.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent battle strategist,” Bucky retorted.

“Apparently you’re not,” Aurora bit back, a wide smile gracing her face. Steve let out a loud peel of laughter at their bickering.

“Excuse me,” JARVIS interrupted. “Miss Stark, you requested that I alert you when young Mr Styles returned to the tower.”

“Thanks J,” Rori replied, kissing her fathers’ cheek and jumping to her feet, ready to head towards the elevator.

“Miss Stark?” Steve asked.

“He said that Dad programmed him to call me that and no marriage certificate is gonna change it,” Rori explained with a roll of her eyes. “Dad could probably get him to stop but honestly I like it. I didn’t get to be a Stark for very long so it’s nice to be one when I come home.”

“You’ll always be a Stark, bug,” Steve promised, returning the kiss on her cheek and watching as she left the room in search of Harry on the upper floors of the Tower.

“Enjoying having her home?” Bucky asked.

“Absolutely,” Steve answered. “I miss her when she’s not here. Tony does too, even if he won’t admit it. She grew up too fast on us.”

“Can’t have been easy not meeting her until she was practically all grown up,” Bucky pointed out.

“No, you’re right,” Steve agreed. “Sometimes I wish we’d got to raise her, but I’d also never want to have taken away any of the time she got with her mom.”

“You and Tony ever think of having another kid?”

“We’ve talked about,” Steve said. “It’s not very easy process. The worlds come a long way since the 40’s Buck, but it’s still hard for two men to adopt. It certainly doesn’t help that we’ve got such dangerous jobs.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Bucky replied. “Never known you to back down from something just because it’s hard or because someone tells you no, though.”

“You might have a point there. Seems we’ve managed to accidently adopt Peter over the years so maybe we’re just meant to keep collecting teenagers.”

xXx

Something Aurora loved about the city was the way that New Yorkers didn’t care about anyone around them. Everyone was busy getting from one place to another and had very little time or care to look at those surrounding them on the crowded sidewalks. Aurora could easily wander the streets without being hassled as she went about her day. Occasionally a tourist would recognize her, but more often than not, a large pair of sunglasses and a hat pulled low would hide her enough to avoid all but the most astute fan. She wore a loose oversized cardigan which hung over the tips of her fingers completely concealing her prosthetic hand as she headed through the streets of midtown Manhattan, her hands full of shopping bags as she walked back towards Avengers Tower. She could have halved the time to get home by taking the subway, but the weather was nice, so she enjoyed the walk, reaching the towers lobby a little after 2 in the afternoon.

By the time she stepped out of the elevator and into the penthouse, she noted Steve, Clint and Bucky sprawled out on the sofas in front of the tv. She dropped her shopping bags onto the floor and launched herself onto the sofa cushion next to Steve, curling herself into his side as his arm fell around her shoulders, hugging her tightly against him.

“Where’ve you been all day?” he asked.

“Went shopping,” Rori explained.

“Do I want to know?” he asked with a soft chuckle.

“I bought wigs.”

“Why on earth are you buying wigs?” Clint butted in.

“Because with the tour coming up,” Rori said, “I want to try out some different hair colours, but I’ve never bleached my hair before and I’m honestly terrified of ruining my hair. So, wigs.”

“Do we get a fashion show?” Steve asked.

“Maybe later,” she mumbled, yawning widely before resting her head back against Steve’s shoulder and staring, glazed eyes at the tv.

xXx

The following day, Sam found Rori sitting alone against one of the large windows, hugging her knees tightly against her chest as she stared out over the city.

“Hey, you,” he said as he took a seat next to her on the floor. “You ok?”

“Yeah I’m good,” she replied, her voice soft and a little distant, her gaze remaining on the view spread out beneath them.

“Remember when you promised me you wouldn’t lie about how you were feeling,” Sam reminded her.

She sighed, her shoulders sagging and her head leaning forward to rest against the cold glass. “I had a panic attack last week,” she mumbled.

“When you got home to London?” he asked.

She shook her head. “On the last day of our honeymoon. This thunderstorm came rolling in out of nowhere the day before we flew home, and I just freaked out and ruined everything. I thought I was getting better.”

“You are getting better,” Sam argued. “This is the first panic attack you’ve had in months. That’s a huge improvement.”

“But I thought they were gone,” Rori sobbed. “I was just starting to feel normal again but I’m never going to be like I was.”

“No, you’re not,” he agreed. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but PTSD isn’t something you just get over. It’s going to be with you for the rest of your life, but that doesn’t have to mean there’s anything wrong with you and I’m sure Harry didn’t think you ruined the trip.”

“Of course he didn’t, he’s Harry,” she said. “He’s always so supportive and just wants to help me through it. It’s not even really about last week,” she admitted. “It’s more about what it says about the rest of the year. The rest of my life. When Harry asked me to join his band, I was terrified that somehow, I would do something to ruin it all, like that somehow my prosthetic would malfunction, and I’d ruin a show. Now I’m wondering what will happen if I have a panic attack at a show? There are so many things that can go wrong, and he’s worked so hard for all of this. I’ll never forgive myself if I do anything to damage that.”

“What happens if Mitch slips over in the rain and breaks his hand and can’t play the guitar? What if Sarah gets the flu and has to sit out a few shows? What if something happens with Adams kids and he has to leave the tour?” Sam asked. “There are so many what ifs and things that can go wrong but did you notice how none of those things had anything to do with anyone’s disabilities? There are things in your life that are going to be more challenging for you than they would have been if you hadn’t been shot. You can’t let that stop you from living. I’m sure Harry and Jeff have all kinds of plans in place for what happens if one of you gets sick and can’t perform, so maybe you should talk to them about your concerns and you can have some plans in place and that will help with the anxiety of it all.”

“You know I really hate when you’re right Sam,” Aurora mumbled, the corners of her lips twitching.

“I know,” he smirked. “But one of these days you’ll learn to accept that I’m never wrong.”

Aurora stuck her tongue out at him before letting out a tired sigh. “I’m just so exhausted. Like, my brain just never stops stressing over these tiny little things and it’s so exhausting to constantly be worrying about everything. I mean Christ, I chipped my nail polish at lunch and it’s all I’ve been able to think about for the last few hours which is ridiculous because who cares if my nail polish is chipped, but I’m going to be on live tv in two days and what if they want a shot of my hands while I’m playing and it’s not like I have time to go get them redone now.”

“Why not just tell the camera operators not to set up that shot?” Sam asked, always the rational voice.

“Yeah,” Rori nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Having said his piece, Sam stood up after giving her shoulder a quick squeeze and then walked away, leaving her to think about what he’d said. She was still sitting on the floor beside the window deciding how to bring her anxieties to Harry without adding to his already full plate when Nat appeared beside her. “Heard you could do with a manicure,” she said.

She extended her hand, helping Aurora up off the floor and then led her to the elevator and down to her personal floor. Nat didn’t press Aurora to talk as they settled down in her living room and set about removing the chipped polish from the nails of her right hand. Rori was grateful for the silence, not sure that she had the energy to carry a conversation but also glad that she wasn’t alone. Where others in the tower felt that they needed to distract her from her anxiety, it was always Nat that provided what she needed without her ever having to ask. Her thoughts whirled in her head as Nat applied the new pale yellow polish to her nails in slow, methodical strokes, Sam’s advice echoing in Aurora’s ears.

“You seem stressed,” Nat finally said as she finished the topcoat on the last nail.

“Just nervous about the show on Saturday,” Rori replied softly. “Live TV doesn’t leave any room for error.”

“I’m sure you’ll all do great,” Nat promised with a warm smile. “Now lay back and I’ll do a face mask and help you relax. You’re way too tense for a 22 year old.”

Aurora did as she was told without argument, laying back and closing her eyes as Nat spread the cool clay over her face and then she started massaging her long fingers into Rori’s scalp. Once the mask was finished and Nat had cleaned it away with a warm cloth, she set about rubbing moisturizer onto Rori’s face, soothing the pinched muscles between the younger woman’s brow until she fell asleep under Nat’s hands.

When Harry arrived back at the tower a little over an hour later he found most of the team in the penthouse, however his wife was conspicuously absent from the group. He asked JARVIS if she was downstairs in either of the studios, his brow furrowing when the AI informed him that she was in Agent Romanoff’s private quarters and he headed for the elevator.

Nat was sitting on the other sofa across from where Rori was sleeping peacefully, a book in hand when JARVIS’ voice filled the room and she was thankful that she had asked the AI to lower its volume when Aurora had fallen asleep.

“Mr. Styles is requesting access to your floor Agent Romanoff,” JARVIS announced in a hushed whisper.

“Tell him to come in,” Nat replied in an equally soft tone.

A few moments later, the elevator doors opened at the end of the hall and Harry strolled into the room, his eyes immediately falling to his sleeping wife. “Hey,” he whispered to Nat. “Everything ok here?”

“She was getting a bit anxious about Saturday, so we had a bit of a spa day to help her calm down,” Nat explained.

Harry nodded and then headed over to the sofa, sitting on its edge next to Aurora’s hip and reached out to trace his hand along her cheekbone. “Rors?” he soothed. “Time to wake up love.” As she began to stir, Nat left the room allowing the couple to have some privacy.

“You’re home,” Rori mumbled, her voice thick with sleep and a soft smile lifting the corners of her lips. “Missed you today.”

“Heard you had a bad day,” Harry said, pulling her up and into a tight hug. “Sorry I wasn’t here.”

“S’ok,” she replied as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “Just got in my head a bit and spiralled.”

“Feeling better now?”

“Much,” she promised. “Always feel better when you’re here.”

“Mitch text me about 20 minutes ago that their flight landed so they’ll be here soon. Wanna come upstairs with me? Think Steve’s cooking a massive dinner.”

Aurora nodded her head and laced her fingers through Harry’s as the headed for the elevator doors.

xXx

Aurora tried to hold back her anxiety as she walked through the door with Harry, Jeff and the rest of the band Friday morning. She knew she was doing a poor job of it when Harry squeezed her hand tightly in an attempt to comfort her. She was angry at herself for her nervousness, knowing that she had performed on bigger stages in front of live audiences in the past, but she couldn’t seem to overcome the fear that she would make a mistake that would make Harry look bad. She could always deal with embarrassing herself, but the idea of screwing up everything that Harry had worked for was what truly made her terrified.

The set was a blur of activity and Harry led them down the halls towards the set where their equipment had been set up. Sarah headed straight to her drum kit and the boys picked up their guitars while Rori and Harry walked over to where the keyboards where a grand piano was waiting for her.

“You look like you’re going to be sick babe,” Harry said. He kept his voice low, whispering in his wife’s ear as she sat down on her bench seat, not wanting draw anyone’s attention to their conversation. “I know you’re going to nail this. Just gotta trust me.”

“I know,” she replied. “God anxiety is such a bitch.” Harry chuckled at her little outburst and then he kissed the top of her head before walking over towards the microphone stand.

They spent the rest of the day running through the two songs they would perform the following evening. They discussed the lighting and camera set ups, making sure that everyone in the band and the crew knew exactly where they would stand and which way the equipment would move during the live broadcast. Occasionally they would take breaks for Harry to go work on the sketches he would be appearing in or they would stop so that Aurora could remove her prosthetic for a while. In the year since she had started wearing the prosthetic hand, Tony and Peter had redesigned the original many times, constantly upgrading and improving it’s coding to make it easier for her to wear for longer periods of time. Despite these upgrades, she still found it hard to wear for too long and after about 4 hours of prolonged use she would start to get horrible tension headaches from the transmitting device she wore behind her left ear. It was for this reason that the majority of their soundchecks were happening on Friday so that Aurora wouldn’t be required to play before the show was ready to go to air. She was always uncomfortable whenever plans had to change in order to accommodate her disability, but Harry had assured her repeatedly over the course of the week that it was not a big deal and that they wouldn’t have been needed much on Saturday afternoon anyway, so it wasn’t even that much of a change to the schedule.

By the end of the day, Aurora was exhausted. They had taken plenty of breaks throughout the day, but she knew that she had definitely pushed herself, never wanting to be the one to call for a break and know she was paying for it. She had her prosthetic off and stuffed into her bag before they even reached the car that would take them all the few short blocks back to the tower. She sat in the back seat beside Harry and let her head fall against his shoulder, closing her eyes for the quick 10 minute drive.

“You alright love?” Harry asked quietly as they pulled up in the underground carpark of the tower.

She hummed in response, letting him lead her out of the car and into the waiting elevator. “Just tired,” she promised. “It was a long day.”

“It was,” Harry agreed, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. “Went great though. Think tomorrow’s going to be amazing.”

Aurora wasn’t the only one who was tired and after such a long day of rehearsals, everyone in the band was happy to return to the tower, the inviting smells of dinner greeting them as they stepped out of the elevator to see the entire team crowded around the dining table, waiting for them. Aurora’s eyes lit up as she saw Peter at the table and immediately rushed over to him, pulling him out of his seat and into a hug, her exhaustion evaporated in the wake of seeing him again for the first time since they’d arrived back in town.

“God, where have you been all week?” she asked.

“Sorry been busy with school and patrols,” Peter replied. “I usually only have time to come over Friday nights and on the weekends.”

“Lucky we’re not leaving till Monday then,” Rori smiled. “Otherwise I wouldn’t get to spend any time with you at all. Now talk to me, how’s it feel to almost be finished with High School?”

Harry watched them with an amused smile as they sat next to each other, talking excitedly about Peter’s upcoming graduation and which colleges he had been accepted to. They barely stopped talking throughout the entire meal, completely oblivious to anyone else at the table. Harry hadn’t spent a great deal of time around Peter, given how much time he had spent on the road with One Direction or off filming Dunkirk while Aurora had still been living in the tower full time, but it didn’t really take a lot of time to understand why Tony, Steve and Rori had all rushed to absorb Peter into their little family. He was such a nice kid, always energetic and excited about anything going on everyone’s lives and he was joy to be around. He had so seamlessly fit into the family dynamic that everyone considered him a Stark in all bar name. Harry had once asked Rori about his place in the team, and she had smiled brightly, explaining how happy she was that while she and Steve had always had their art to bond over, she was relieved that Tony now had someone that could keep up with him in the lab and that he could teach Peter and watch him improve. She’d always wanted a little brother and now she had one in Peter. Tony and Steve had already experienced the emotional minefield of establishing parental roles without stepping on the memory of Rori’s mother, to it had been so easy for them to find a way to fill those same roles with Peter over the last few years without diminishing May’s place in his life or erasing the importance of Peter’s parents. The Avenger’s had always been a messy, happy, found family, and with the addition of Peter and May, and then with Mitch, Adam and Sarah, the family just seemed to keep expanding and Harry could see how much Aurora loved having each and everyone of them crowded into the penthouses dining room.

xXx

Saturday was a blur of activity and rushing around, and before Aurora realised someone was yelling that they were going live in 10 minutes. She was sitting out of the way with Sarah on one side of her and Adam on the other, waiting for their time to perform. Harry was off getting ready for the first sketch and they had a small tv hanging on the wall nearby so that they could watch the show while they waited. The first half of the show went off without a hitch and all four of them simply tried to keep out of everyone’s way until a technician came over to heard them towards the set. They were all situated behind their instruments by the time Harry joined them and he quickly ducked over to Rori for a good luck kiss before taking his place at the mic stand and waiting for the signal to start. One of Aurora’s knees was bouncing beneath the piano and there was a slight tremor in her right hand as she closed her eyes and took a few deep breathes on the darkened set. She tuned out the camera’s and the studio audience, her attention narrowing down to her instrument and Harry a few steps in front of her as she began the opening chords of the song. For a few brief seconds her piano was the only sound as the lights began to lift, and Harry’s voice rang out through the studio. As they hit the pre-chorus Rori and Sarah added their voices to the mix and then all of the other instruments joined as they entered the chorus. All of Aurora’s nerves disappeared as Harry belted out the lyrics of the chorus, and in the brief moment right before the second verse he turned, catching her eye and winking before returning to the microphone. In the final lines of the song, right in the middle of the most difficult notes, Aurora heard Harry’s voice falter and he missed a line. She tried to hide a grimace, knowing that he would be kicking himself for slipping at the end of the song. The moment the camera’s cut away she was at his side, arms wrapped tightly around his waist and he pecked her lips quickly. She attempted to comfort him before he was quickly whisked away to change into the costume for the next sketch.

By the time they returned to their little set for their second song Harry appeared to have shaken off the slip up and everyone, including Aurora, was buzzing with adrenaline and ready to go with their second performance. This time the grand piano was gone, and Aurora’s keyboard was positioned behind Harry’s spot at the centre of the stage. With all the sketches out of the way, Aurora watched happily as Harry allowed himself to enjoy the performance. As they finished the song and the audience cheered, Harry quickly pulled his guitar strap over his head and walked over to where Rori was seated behind the keys. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her softly. “That one was for you my love,” he whispered as their lips separated.

“So proud of you,” she whispered in reply. “You absolutely killed it tonight.”

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

#skyfire fic #Husband Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #dad!tony #ptsd #domestic fluff #iron dad #step dad steve rogers #aurora stark #harry styles #tony stark #found family avengers

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acrobaticcatfeline · 4 years

Text

Of Books, Brothers, and Broadway (Creativitwins College AU) Chapter One!!!

Word Count: 1771

TW: So Remus, obviously, swearing, ocean mentions, sea creatures and reptiles, and I think that’s it!

Pairings: None yet. This chapter is just a ton of platonic creativitwins!

Notes: This is three pages that I wrote last night. I’m now at ten pages of this. I don’t know what I was possessed by but I’m not about to complain. Its a college AU, I mention it I think, but Roman is a theatre major and Remus is a marine biology major with a minor in creative writing. I’m excited for you guys to see more of this!

Summary: “Bro!!! Bro I found a giant ass lizard in the yard look at it bro!!!” Roman and Remus Reyes live together. They figured it would be cost effective to do so while in college. Roman deals with Remus’ reptiles and fish tank, Remus deals with Romans singing at 3 in the morning. They’ve had an interesting relationship, and when Remus reminds Roman of a deal they made years ago, hes ready to start crying. Can a couple of kids from Florida make a Broadway musical?

“Bro!!! Bro I found a giant ass lizard in the yard look at it bro!!!”

Roman was done with his brothers bullshit. He doesn't know where he got the bright idea that the two of them should cohabitate in an apartment during college, but as he panickedly climbs onto the kitchen counters to escape him he knows he must've been on some sort of drug. He released a scream as he backed into the corner of the room as his brother held out a lizard that was definitely going to jump and attack him.

“GET IT AWAY!!! ITS SLIMY AND GROSS AND MALICIOUS!!!”

“This little guy malicious? Nah bro, that's a you problem. He's so cuteeee look at his scales they’re almost a holographic!”

That caught Roman's attention. He stopped panicking to actually look at the critter in his brother's hands. Remus was right, he was almost holographic. Roman gave it a weak smile and Remus beamed.

“See? It's not that scary! I'm gonna keep him! He's gonna be named fred!”

Roman chuckled softly as his brother finally left and brought the lizard to his room. He slipped off the counter and followed at a safe distance.

“Don't you think you have enough reptiles? If you keep getting more you'll need more heat lamps and i'm giving you more of the electric bill”

“Ok fair point but hear me out, have you ever seen a collared lizard quite as colorful as this one? I mean he's such a pretty one aint he?”

Roman took more steps forward, relaxing once the lizard was placed in the terrarium. The lizard was quite colorful, and Roman couldn't deny, it was one of the prettiest ones Remus had captured. It immediately scurried around and dived into the water bowl. Roman laughed at it.

“Besides, he was just begging to be brought in! Like really this time! He kept bumping into my feet, he started climbing my pants leg, it was so cute you should've seen it!”

“I'm sure I would have cried.”

Remus chuckled as he moved to the other wall of his room covered in a giant aquarium that Roman was still amazed fit through the doors. Remus grinned at all the fish swimming around, tipping a good portion of fish food into the tank after turning off the filter. He then made his way to his bed and sat on the twin sized mattress covered with octopus blankets. He grinned at his brother and Roman rolled his eyes.

“When are you finally kidnapping an octopus huh?”

“I'm glad you asked! You know my internship right?”

“Of course, the only time you don't talk about the marine institute is when youre talking about your reptiles”

Remus popped up and grabbed Roman's wrist and dragged him to the whiteboard calendar that hung on the outside of his door, pointing excitedly at tomorrow's date while bouncing on his toes.

“Well they just got an octopus buddy in that needs constant care that they don't have the time for! She's real fucked up, she needs meds twice a day, she needs to be hand fed, its a real fucked up case, they were rescued from a seaworld copycat, the poor thing hasn't been healthy since it hatched we think. There's a chance that she won't even be able to be released cuz she's been so dependent on humans for her whole life. But they opened up for applicants, and I was the only one willing to take her in. they're coming and checking my tank tomorrow and if it is good enough, which i'm certain it will be, and then they'll hand her over and i’ll be her caretaker!”

Roman grinned at the excitement his brother had. He ruffled his hair quickly.

“That's cool rem. I'm happy for you. She got a name?”

“Mhmm! Her name is Cephanie! But I've been calling her Cephy. She's so pretty ro, i can't wait for you to meet her! And she's so friendly!”

“You know every day I get less confused at your choice in major. And more confused about your minor”

Remus grinned at Roman and released his wrist, skipping over to their kitchen, relishing in the fact that Roman followed still. He poured himself a cup of coffee and jumped onto the counter with a grin still plastered to his face. He took a sip from his mug, the one with a tentacle handle, and kicked his feet.

“I don't know why! It's totally sensical to have a minor in creative writing ro! It's not like you can expect me to be your playwright if i don't know what i'm doing! Besides, i can write epic lovecraftian horrors that aren't incredibly racist and who doesn't want that?”

Roman blinked. He had to process what Remus had said and he was still confused. His head tilted like a dogs.

“My playwright?”

Remus giggled, it was funny when Remus giggled, it wasn't a sound that you would expect to come out of him. And yet he did it often.

“Did you forget? Aw ro, you can't back out on it now, you asked me when we were still in middle school to write you a book for a musical, and you were gonna write the music and you kept saying you were gonna get it on broadway. I've held up my end of the deal! In fact, I actually have a story started, I think you're gonna love it! Course, i haven't written it all out yet, it's gonna be my final”

“Wait, you remembered that? Rem we were like 10!”

“And now we’re 21, what's your point?”

“We, we can't get on broadway! We’re a couple of idiots from florida! I’m, i'm not a musician, I'm barely even a dancer, what are you talking about? That was a fever dream from a couple of kids, it's not like we can actually do it!”

Remus frowned. He set his mug of coffee down and hopped off of the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Roman a serious look.

“Do you know when lin manuel miranda wrote his first broadway musical?”

“No i-”

“His sophomore year of college. Who says we can't do the same? Roman you under sell your talents. You're a theatre major, you may not be amazing at any instruments other than your voice but damn bro, your voice is good enough on its own. I've seen you dance, you're one of the best dancers i've ever seen and you're in your fourth year of college. We have potential. I know we can do this if we try, but i can't make it happen alone. I need your help”

Roman looked lost. He wanted, oh so desperately he wanted, to make it happen. It had always been a dream of his to make it to broadway, but he wasn't wrong, they weren't lin manuel miranda, they were some twins from florida, they had no idea what they were doing. And yet. And yet he held out his hand to his brother.

“Ok. ok, we can try this. I can, I can make a score. We can do this”

Remus grinned again and took Roman's hand. He tugged him into the living room. He sat on the couch, pulling out his notebook and flipping to a bookmarked page. Roman sat next to him and looked over at it. There were a few doodles around a plotline that was both gorey and Romantic a la sweeney todd but also quite similar to ella enchanted. Remus grinned at the book and then started explaining.

“Ok so the main character, played by you presumably, is an author”

“Did you just write out your personal fantasy Remus?”

“No, shut up! Ok so he's written several books, like neil gaiman or terry pratchet level several, but those aren't all the stories he's made, he has several stories that have never seen the light of day. He writes his stories in notebooks and journals ordinarily, waiting until they’re fully developed to make them digital. In one of these notebooks there lies a bit of magic. So he writes in this unknowingly, writes of a powerful magician, and as he sleeps it awakes. The magician escapes and brings each of his hundreds of creations to life just the same as him. The characters run amok and the author awakes to see the most beautiful man he's ever met at the foot of his bed. It takes him seeing the magician running through his home to realize that these are his characters. And the man is the protagonist from his most famous novel, one he wrote as a guilty pleasure, writing of a man he had met in his dreams. And he finds that these characters were pulled from different points in their books. The character had been pulled from the early pages, after he had suffered a major trauma and had no clue of the powers he possessed. So now, with his dream man in his living room, in pain from an event he had written, and gifted with emotionally driven powers, he has to fix this mess with the added hurdle of the character creating villains and fiends ready to destroy humanity as a whole with no way to stop. Along the way, some of his characters suffer mortal wounds at the hands of heinous and violent creatures, and all the author has is one magic notebook to fight them off. Romantic plot between the author and dream MC, with angst from the reality of once everything is dealt with, he will have to go back to the book. Thats what ive got so far, what do you think?”

Roman is starry eyed. It's far less violent than Remus’ normal brand of writing, it doesn't inherently include any sea monsters or snake men, and it's something Roman can really appreciate. He loves it, he can already feel the gears turning for songs and dances. Now that he heard the actual story instead of just going on the drawings, he saw far more nutcracker vibes from it.

“Oh, and there's a happy ending or whatever that the author gets to like, marry the other MC, and everyone lives happily ever after. I know you like the cutesy shit”

“Remus this is amazing! I can't believe I hesitated, I already have some ideas for the score! Remus you're a genius. I love you!”

Roman launched into a hug with Remus, which had the other laughing. Remus hugged him back.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

It was Roman's turn to turn into a giggling mess.

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing!!!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

#roman sanders #remus sanders #duke remus #college au #familial creativitwins #creativitwins #tw swearing #tw cursing #my writing #my fanfiction

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exosmutfactory · 4 years

Text

How I Look On You 002

Chun-hei is stuck between feeling too busy to commit and too young to settle down. And with her bustling book publisher business, bachelors and alike are all swarming around her for a chance at publicity. She’s doing a good job at keeping the men at bay—until Byun Baekhyun, that is. Doesn’t mean he’ll have it easy though.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

The Job

—

I don't believe no one no more

Boy, show me what you're in it for

Been on the low when it comes to love (When it comes, when it comes to love)

Said, "Do you like how I look or just how I look on you?"

—

“Jihun, please handle all my calls while I’m gone and call my mobile in case of emergencies.”

“Yes. Ma’am,” She chirps, periwinkle colored nails tapping steadily on her keyboard. “When can I expect you back?”

“About an hour,” Grabbing my coat, I swiftly slip it on, “I’ll be down at the bank making sure everything is in order.”

“Double checking your account, huh?” She teases, brow raised meaningfully as she peeks over her monitor.

“Of course,” I mumble, buttoning up and straightening my collar, “Those people love to mess my numbers up,” Reaching for my purse, I pause, turning back to her, “Better yet, make that 2.”

“Good thing you’re clear of meetings today.” She chuckles as I stroll by, “Be careful!”

I can’t help but scoff, tossing my hair over my shoulder with a smirk, “I always am.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Kim.” The receptionist must notice the tick in my jaw, quickly checking something on the computer in front of her, “Mr. Lee isn’t here today but I can direct you to our 2nd finest-”

“Please do,” I mumble quietly, already counting the extra 30 minutes that will be added to this whole ordeal.

“He just finished up with his last client,” She tries to soothe, picking up the phone on her desk after punching in a few quick numbers, “Mr. Byun, another client is here to see you. Alright, I’ll send them right away.” Turning back to me, she gestures to the elevators, “Mr. Byun is on the 4th floor, 2nd door to the right.”

“Thank you.” I make my way over to them, sighing inwardly at ache beginning to settle in my heels. 6 years of wearing the same two-inch shoes to work and my flat feet never seem to grow used to it.

Reaching the 4th floor, I step out with light feet, maneuvering around a distracted lady in a suit before knocking politely on the designated door labeled ‘Mr. Byun.’

“Come in,” A deep voice calls. One that brings a shiver down my spine as I twist the knob. Sounds like-

Opening the door, I come face to face with my handsome one night stand; Byun Baekhyun.

His eyes widen in recognition before they narrow; angular jaw ticking in irritation. “Have a seat.”

My brow lifts in challenge, was that an order?

Recognizing the look on my face, he gestures to his desk, “Please.” He clears his throat, a red hue to his cheeks, “Have a seat.”

Shooting him a look, I sit on one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, crossing my legs as he settles into his own seat.

“How may I help you today?” He sets a stack of folders aside, briefly glancing up at me.

“I’m just checking up on a few things.” Catching myself before my eyes linger too long on his slender hands, I focus on the far wall instead. “Making sure the tax money went in and the security of the account.”

Baekhyun asks a few questions and I give him the necessary information, observing his nicely sized office and display of degrees on the wall. A Master’s degree, hmm?

“Everything is in order,” His voice brings me back to the present, my eyes accidentally meeting his, “The taxes went in on time and no unauthorized purchases have been made.”

“Good,” With a little hum, I move to stand, “Thank you, Mr. Byun.”

“-Are you uncomfortable?”

Pausing at the door, I look back at him, “Excuse me?”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” His voice is void of any emotion, steely eyes reflecting my ablaze ones. “Please, feel free to request someone else next time.”

“You think I’m scared of you?” It takes everything in me to hold back a scoff, especially at the amused quirk of his lips. “Really now?”

He shrugs, “Well you sure seem to be shy around a one night sta-”

I hiss at him, making sure the door is completely shut before walking back to his desk with long strides. “If there is one thing I'm scared of,” I meet his eye, “It’s not you, Byun Baekhyun.”

“You sure do know how to be convincing, Kim Chun-hei.” He says my name mockingly, smirking even more, “Running away right after spending the night with me.”

I roughly plant my hands on his desk, “You are really getting on my nerves. One night stands are exactly that.” His eyes darkened the longer I talk, “No waking up next to each other. No sharing breakfast.” I lean closer, slowly pronouncing every word, “Just fuck and go.”

“What if I don’t want to be a one night stand?” His question is abrupt, firm and demanding. I reel back as if burned, “What?”

“What if I don’t want to be a one night stand?” He stands up, rounding around the desk as I back up, soon finding my back against a wall. “What if I want to see you more?”

“For sex?” I arch a brow.

A wave of emotions crosses his face before his eyes darken even more. “Yes,” Nodding firmly, he cages me to the wall; all firm, warm and enticing. His brown eyes locked onto my own, “I want you.” He licks his lips, eyeing me meaningfully.

“I have to be back by noon,” I mumble, using all my strength not to waver under his stare.

His brows raise in amusement, that wicked tongue of his once again licking his tempting bottom lip, “Give me 30 minutes.”

I scoff, tossing my head to the side with a roll of my eyes, “As if.”

“Fuck,” I sigh, tangling my fingers in his hair and tilting my head back as he trails kisses down my neck, sucking just enough to barely leave any marks, “Baekhyun.”

He hums in reply, setting me on the counter and rolling up my pencil skirt.

“I still can’t stand you,” I insist, already panting at the feeling of his wandering hand sliding up my thigh.

Baekhyun just smirks, planting a kiss behind my ear that causes my whole body to shake, “I know.”

Feeling my panties getting pulled to the side, I lean back against the mirror, closing my eyes as his cool hand meets my hot core.

➽➼►♦⇔♦➽➼►♦⇔♦➽➼►

Sighing, I read over a belligerent email for the 3rd time, trying to figure out a way to reassure the recipient. A soft knock at the door pulling me from the censored words, “Come in.”

“Ms. Kim,” Jihun enters, walking with the grace of a cheetah, her blonde hair up in a perfect bun as always. “You have 3 meetings today-”

“Three?” Frowning, I glance down at the folders she sets on my desk.

“With the board directors, the author, and the bookseller.” Noting my sour expression, she raises a brow, “The seller being petulant again?”

“He’s throwing a hissy fit every week,” I groan, running my hand through my hair. “He knows the rules yet insists to bend them, it’s ridiculous.”

She sets down a coffee mug as well before taking a seat, “What’s is it this time?”

“He’s demanding to lead the whole process,” I mumble, squeezing my stress ball. “Because he ‘has the experience’ I don't care how experienced he is! His job is to sell books, not be breathing down mine and our workers’ neck!”

“Experience nothing, he has been working here barely 6 months.” Jihun points out, crossing her legs.

“Exactly,” I sigh, taking a tentative sip of mocha, “I don’t know how to break it to him and not seem...you know.”

“You make twice as much as him and this is your company,” Organizing the folders, she regards me with a level eye, “Tell him straight up either do what is expected of him or find another job. And trust me, you’re offering the most for his position in a 300-mile radius. He will yield.”

“Are you sure?” Eyeing her with a wary expression, I take another sip, “I rather not have to search for another seller at the last minute.”

“I’m positive.” Coming to stand by my shoulder, she assists in typing up a reply, looking it over with firm nods and hums. “If he knows what’s good for his paycheck, he’ll heed this warning.”

“Jihun, you’re the best,” I sigh, relaxing back in my chair.

She smiles, a teasing glint in her eyes, “I try.”

Recognizing the look on her face I shake my head, “No.”

“You sure are glowing these days,” She muses, looking me over as I paint a nonchalant expression on my face. “I’d swear it was a pregnancy aura if I didn’t know you well.”

Strangling a bit on a hot sip of mocha, I set down the cup, eyeing her with blank eyes, “I’ve been sleeping well lately.”

“Yeah,” She breezily agrees, pushing my hair back and revealing the faint trace of a hickey on my neck, “Not alone either.”

Turning a little red I lightly swat her hand away, tugging my hair back into place. “I have been...in good company.”

“Recently too,” She observes; cheeky grin not leaving her face, “Whose the lucky guy?”

Looking down at my mug as if it’ll save me, I give up with a sigh, flicking my eyes back to hers, “Baekhyun.”

“Baekhyun?” Her perfectly shaped brows crinkle in confusion, eyes moving back and forth in thought. Her head pops up; eyes wide, “The guy from the bar, Baekhyun?”

Nodding a little, I groan at the disbelieving look on her face. “Yes, that’s the one.”

“How did you two...” She eyes me with concern, “Meet again? You didn’t leave your number, right?”

Remembering the adorable look of betrayal on his face, I sigh, “Of course not. I met him down at the bank.” Leaning back and crossing my arms, I carefully take in the emotions crossing her face.

Her brow raises, “Investing?”

I wish. “He’s an accountant.”

“An accountant!?-” Glancing over her shoulder at the closed door, she leans closer, whispering, “Wait, so that day you came back an hour late...”

“Yeah?..” Aimlessly clicking around my computer, I inwardly kick myself.

“And you were limping...”

Sighing loudly before rubbing my hand down my face, I mumble in defeat, “Yeah...”

Jihun whistles. “Wow...dick too bomb, huh?”

Giggling despite myself, I nod, easily returning her knowing grin. “You know it.”

By the end of the day, I’ve gone through three more mugs of chocolatey goodness before I’m free. The cool breeze of late fall has never felt better.

Pulling my coat tighter around my form, I march down to the parking garage, grumbling at the bone-chilling wind. Once again a 67-degree, cloudless day prediction by the weatherman has turned into a barely 50-degree overcast horror of strong wind and chances of rain.

Barely three steps away from my car, the winded is knocked out of me; my back soon meeting a stone-cold wall.

“Fuck.” I hiss, glaring up at the chuckling fucker responsible. “Seojun,” I utter lowly; words catching in my throat.

“Hey baby,” He coos, cupping my cheek with an ice-cold hand that leaves me flinching, “Missed me?”

“Funny of you to ask,” I plaster on a bright smile that doesn’t meet my eyes, “Considering the fact that I haven’t even heard from you in-huh-10 months.”

“Aw Chun, you know I have business to attend to,” He pouts, insincerely, grinning like a Cheshire cat afterward, “Modeling isn’t just all about good looks-”

“Get off me.” I keep my eyes focused on the floor, just the thought of meeting his gaze making the last of my lunch come back up.

“What?” He asks as if surprised; unwarranted offense clear in his tone. I clench my jaw to hold back a wince when he grips it painfully tight. “What did you say?”

“She clearly told you to get off her,” Another voice echoes across the garage. A familiar head of obsidian hair rounding the corner to where we are partially hidden from view.

Seojun slightly turns to face the man as I try to hide in the shadows, “And who the fuck are you?”

“Her lawyer,” Baekhyun holds his gaze with a level look, fitting the part with his three-piece suit and a brown, worn-in leather bag tucked under his arm. “I suggest you leave before we press charges.”

Seojun scoffs. “As if anyone would believe some washed-up playboy over a celebrity.”

Baekhyun’s jaw clenches and I am filled with dread of what may come out his mouth.

“Well, they sure will believe hardcore evidence.” My wide eyes flicker over to Jihun as she steps into view; waving her phone with a forced smile on her face, “You wouldn’t want to be labeled as a harasser before your big runway event, hmm?”

Seojun looks between us all and I hold my breath, closing my eyes when he shoves me against the wall before storming away. The instant his footsteps fade, a click of heels fills the garage, “Chun-hei are you okay?”

Sighing out my nose, I open my eyes, “Yeah,” Cracking a grin I avoid her worried gaze and Baekhyun’s questioning eyes, “He was just being an ass.”

“Exes are the worst,” Jihun softly replies, grabbing my arm, “Come on, let’s go to your favorite ice cream parlor.”

“It’s cold as hell,” I whine, jumping when a chuckle caresses the back of my ear.

“Sorry,” Baekhyun emerges, joining my other side as Jihun leads me to my car. “I’m really in the mood for strawberry.”

“Funny how you too share a favorite flavor,” Jihun notes, looking between the two of us with a knowing smile.

“At least we don’t crave pints of green tea on a regular basis,” Unlocking my car, I gently brush away leaves from the window of my red Kia Cadenza.

“At least I know how to try out new flavors to expand my horizon, you uncultured heathen,” She rebukes, crossing her arms.

“It’s actually quite nice,” Baekhyun supplies, blinking when we both turn to him with amused and betrayed eyes, “What?”

“Score one for me,” Jihun singsongs, dancing off to her white Prius.

“Score one for me too,” I huff, stepping into my vehicle. Noting Baekhyun still standing there, I raise a brow at him, “Will you be joining us?”

He grins, “I gladly would, but my car is in the shop, so,” Smiling sheepishly, he shoves his hands in his pockets, “I should be getting home.”

I clear my throat. “Alright.” Disappointment fills my chest and I don’t know why.

He smiles, taking a few steps back before walking away.

“...Baekhyun?” I call.

He turns back, raising a brow and I feel silly for what I’m about to do. But I’ve already begun to seal my fate, so, “Hop in.”

“It’s not that funny,” I mumble at a laughing Baekhyun; carefully pulling his ice cream closer to the center of the table to avoid any accidents. I’m starting to wish Jihun didn’t have to rush back to the company “for reasons.” That sly fox.

“The guy has been working there for less than a year and expects you to hand everything over to him?” He snorts, covering his boxy grin as his spoon dangles from his slender fingers.

“I know right,” Sighing I take another spoonful of ice cream, humming at the creamy goodness, “I’m the CEO and Director, I’m pretty sure there’s no way he can handle both-or even one-of those positions.” Chuckling to myself I dig around for another cherry.

“Wait,” Baekhyun’s suddenly serious tone has my eyes slowly lifting to his, “You’re a CEO?”

Well, shit. “Yeah,” I drawl, taking another bite, “You didn’t know?”

He shakes his head, honest confusion in his brown orbs.

Sitting straighter, I mutter with a blank expression, “I’m the head of Kim Publishing.”

I expected a few things to happen—a gasp; a jaw drop; an exclamation of disbelief—but Baekhyun just leans back with a hand over his face. “Here I was thinking you were a lawyer or an undeniably sexy principal, but a CEO?” He groans, rubbing his hand down his face before peeking at me with eyes filled with a look I know all too well, “You just keep surprising me, Doll.”

“Do you even know my age?” I deadpan, ignoring the slight flutter in my chest.

He looks me over for a moment, “...23?”

I choke a bit on my dessert. “I’m 28.” And I'm flattered, really.

“You don’t look a day over 20,” He smiles, an expression that quickly falls off his lips when I deliberately lick every trace of ice cream from my spoon.

“Trust me,” I purr, leaning over the small table to stare him down and loosen his tie, “I can do a lot more than any 20 year old ever could.”

Baekhyun’s eyes are that dark shade of brown that I adore the most. He slaps a couple of dollar bills on the table before taking my hand and leading me out the parlor. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Giggling, I make sure no paparazzi is around while I'm lead back to the car. Licking my lips when Baekhyun climbs into the backseat and unbuttons his shirt; gazing at me with that knee-weakening smirk.

Leaving every bad memory at the door, I climb onto his lap and let him rock my world, and—ultimately—the car as well.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

A quick author's note:

Hi! Thank you for the support!

This fic may seem very fast-paced—it kind of is—but things will be slowing a bit down for the remaining chapters.

In other words, trouble is coming.

See you!~

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun romance #baekhyun angst #lets see if I can actually finish this in 5 weeks lmao

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it-never-lasts · 4 years

Text

Able x Reader: It Never Lasts

Chapter 3

----------

“Now Class, can one of you tell me the answer to this equation?” (Y/N) wrote the small equation, 26+39 on the chalkboard in front of the whole class.

Some of the students began to solve the equation on their chalkboards and others either drew on them or just did nothing. (Y/N) grabbed her stick from her desk and tapped it on the desk of a student who wasn’t doing anything. The boy groaned and began to solve the equation on his small board.

After a few minutes, some of the students raised their hands to answer the teacher. (Y/N) looked around the room and chose a boy in the far back to answer.

“65?” answered the boy. He looked nervous while giving his answer, afraid he got it wrong.

The teacher smile. “Correct!” She went back to the board and began to solve it herself. “For those of you who got it wrong, what you do is stack them first and then you start solving from right to left. Like this.” She demonstrated to the children by following her own steps. “6 plus 9 is 15, so you place the five here at the bottom and place the one on top of the two and the three. After that, you add all three of these numbers.”

Once she was finished, she turned back around to see the students either paying attention or drifting off into their own world. She walked to her desk and picked up a stack of papers. She walked to the first desk in the row and began handing them out.

“This will be your homework for today, class. They’re math equations.” She paused a bit as she heard a few of the children groan. “Now I suggest you actually do this, for those who never do their homework, Brian,” everyone stared and giggled at Brian; the boy at the front of the class who groaned when he was forced to solve the math equation. “because tomorrow we’re having a test.”

“What!?” Brian said shockingly. Everyone laughed at his reaction.

(Y/N) kept handing out the papers to the rest of the class. “You heard me, young man. You need to study if you want to get a good grade and pass my class.” After she was done, she walked to the front of the class with the extra papers in her hands. “Or, you could always retake class, again.” She playfully placed her hand on her hip in a sassy way and gave him a “you can do better” look.

The laughter only grew as Brian was being roasted and embarrassed.

“I can help ya study, Brian.” said a little girl beside him. Her name was Merida. She had her long, brown hair pulled up in a ponytail with a pink ribbon. Her skin was pale and had freckles on the bridge of her nose and cheek. The color of her eyes is an ocean blue with a ring of dark blue on the outside. She wore a fluffy, pink dress with black shoes. They weren’t new and they didn’t look new either. All her clothes are simple hand me downs from family.

(Y/N) smiled at her. “Well, how kind of you to offer Brian help, Merida.” (Y/N) liked Merida. Every time she sees her, she smiles. You see, she found out Merida was once an orphan like herself. But unlike her, Merida managed to find a nice family to take her in. She was always happy to see the old couple who took her in. The couple wasn’t able to have children of their own, so they decided to adopt Merida.

“No.” said Brian. “I don’t want no help from a girly girl like you.”

Merida rolled her eyes. “Hmph. Well, good luck then. I tried being nice. Maybe you should give it a try.”

Brian stuck his tongue out at her and she did the same.

“Hey, now. Don’t be rude to each other.”

The teacher was interrupted by the sound of the bell. The children immediately started shoving everything in their bag; some were already out the door.

“Don’t forget to study!” (Y/N) tried calling out, but they were already gone. She sighed and shook her head. She walked back to her desk and placed the extra papers on it.

“Knock knock.” said a woman in a sing-song voice.

(Y/N) turned back around to see who it was. She smiled when she realized who it was. “Hi, Celia.”

Celia was another one of the teachers here. She taught the older kids. “Hello, my little birdie~” she skipped all the way to her desk, did a 180 turn and sat on her desk with her right leg on top of the other. “Notice anything,” she lifted her right leg up, “different?”

(Y/N) cocked an eyebrow. “Let me guess.” she sat on her chair. “Mr. Money-man bought ya something.”

Celia scoffed. “For the last time, his name is Anthony Miller.” she pouted. “And yes, he did buy me somethin’.”

She smiled. “You’re spoiled.” She picked up a quill and began to grade last night’s homework.

The red-haired teacher gasped dramatically and placed a hand on her heart. “I may be spoiled, but…” she paused, trying to figure out what to say. (Y/N) waited patiently. She pursed her lips and gave up. “Okay. I give up. I am spoiled.”

“Told ya.” (Y/N) laughed and shook her head and went back to grading the homework.

Celia laughed as well. "But really. Guess."

The (H/C) haired teacher sighed and continued with her task.

It has been three years since she came to Strine and became a teacher. During her time here, she became happier than she could ever be. For so long she waited to have a family. A family to raise her and take care of her and teach her things she wouldn't be able to learn on her own. Now, after becoming a teacher, these students were her family. She will take care of them, and raise them, and teach them things; everything that never happened to her when she was growing up.

She was happy here. She was happy with her current life. And honestly, she didn't plan on changing it. Everything was going just the way she wanted. Well…. She wasn't really planning on having an annoying best friend, but I guess it's a bonus for her.

"Is it the shoes?" She said with an annoyed smile.

Celia squealed in excitement and kicked her feet. "YES! Just look at 'em! Look how they sparkle! They're so beautiful! Ah!"

Just last week, a rich man came into town and immediately took fancy on Celia once he laid his eyes on her. Celia, being the sucker she is, didn't take down the opportunity of being with a handsome, rich man. And now every day, (Y/N) sees her with something new and expensive.

'Well, at least he's making her happy.' She thought to herself. Though she did not approve of this method of winning a girl's heart, knowing her friend, there is nothing she could do to convince her that she could find a better and more loving man. One who does not win one's heart by buying gifts.

She smiled at her red-haired friend and nodded. "I'm glad he's making you happy, but don't ya think ya should be planin' your next lesson for tomorro'?"

Celia rolled her eyes and jumped off the desk. "Oh come on, sugar pie, learn to live a little." She slowly walks around her and drags her arm around her friend's shoulder. "Besides," she lowers her lips to her ear, "you're just jealous."

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and gently pushed Celia back causing her to chuckle. "I ain't jealous." She put her quill back into its holder. "But, I suppose it would be nice to be able to buy everything ya wanted." She admitted. I mean. Really. Who wouldn't want to be able to buy everything they wanted no matter how expensive it was?

"So why don't ya find yourself a man?" Celia asked as she placed her hand on her hip.

A man? (Y/N) didn't have time for a man. The school and the children were far too important for her than going out to waste her time to find a man. What's the point if the possibility of them staying is slim? Yes, she always hoped to become married and have children, but if it meant leaving her job, then…

"I don't wan' a man. I'm perfectly fine with the way my life is right now." She once again grabbed her quill and continued grading the homework.

Celia frowned at the (H/C) haired girl in front of her. She admitted that she was worried about her friend’s social life. Ever since she got here, she never attempted to have a conversation with any of the men here. All she did was isolate herself in her house grading papers or planning the next lesson. Of course, being the great friend she plans to be to her, she forces her to come out and socialize and come to the town’s seasonal parties. But right now, she sees that this is seriously a cry for help. And she intends to do something about it.

With a devious smile, she places her right hand on her left shoulder. “You know, (Y/N),” (Y/N) sighed and moved her eyes to look at her. “Why don’t we plan a fun little trip for the children!?”

(Y/N) coked an eyebrow. “What?”

“Oh come on, (Y/N). You’ve been so stressed and busy, lately. You need a day off and give the kids some fun. How ‘bout it?”

(Y/N) pondered for a moment. A field trip? She’s never done a field trip before. At first, she was interested but then it confused her. Why the change in subject all of a sudden? She narrowed her eyes at her. “What’s the catch?”

Celia just smiled sweetly at her. “No catch! Just a fun little trip, is all.”

“Just a trip?”

“Yup!”

“....”

“I’ll think about it.” with that, she focused her attention back to the papers.

Celia smiled brightly and started walking towards the door. “Alrighty, then! Bye, sugar!”

“Goodbye, Celia.”

After her classroom door closed, a frown began to tug at her lips.

She changed the subject. Why? She's planning something, (Y/N) knows it. She scoffed at the idea that popped into her head.

'A man. That's what she's gonna try to do.' She thought. 'She gonna get some big, strong, and handsome man to come with us on a field trip and have him flirt with me.' she chuckled at the thought.

"Yeah. As if some big shot's gonna waste their time with me." the sound of something snapping took her away from her thoughts. She looked down to see her broken feather and ink splattered all over a child's paper. She released her tight grip and sighed. "Aw, man. Sorry, Austin." She put the broken feather inside a bin next to her and grabbed her handkerchief to wipe off the black ink on her hand.

'Looks like it's gonna be stained for a while.' she thought.

After wiping her hand, she put all the papers back in one pile and began gathering her things. She grabbed her bag and stuffed it with everything she was going to take home.

---------------------------------------------

(Y/N) took out a set of keys from her bag and chose the one to her house. Considering how small the town still is, it didn't take long for her to get back home.

"Oh! Hello, sweety!"

(Y/N) turned back around to see one of her friends. She smiled and waved back at her. "Anabell. Hello. How's it goin'?"

Anabell made her way towards (Y/N) with a box in her hand. "Hello sweety. I'm doin' dandy. How 'bout you?" Anabell was the mother who gave her a lift towards town three years ago. At least once a week, Anabell would come visite (Y/N) for tea and coffee. The conversations they would have were mostly Anabell's since (Y/N) never really had anything to talk about. Most of her stories are things the students would do during class.

"I'm doin' just fine." she took out her key and placed it in the lock. "Care to come in?" she opened the door and held it for Anabell to come into.

"Thank you, dear." She set the box down on the coffee table. "So, care to explain why you're here so early? I was 'bout to walk all the way to the school."

(Y/N) closed the door and opened the blinds to let the sun in. She thought back to the quill incident. "I, um," she showed her stained hand at her. "I just got a little clumsy. Broke my quill and made a bit of a mess. Only got one at school so I came home to finish gradin'." A shy and embarrassed smile formed on her lips.

Anabell clicked her tongue and shook her head. She walked towards her and grabbed her unstained hand. "Come on." she said as she pulled (Y/N) to the couch. "Somethin's botherin' ya. Tell me."

The young teacher smiled at her concerned friend. "Just got clumsy." she lied.

The mother rolled her eyes. "Honey, I'm a mother of six. Knowing when somethin's wrong is our sixed sense. Just ask any mother."

(Y/N) pondered for a moment. During her time at the orphanage, she was always told how to act when presenting themselves in front of a gentleman. She was always taught how to be a good mother and wife and how to take care of a household. She never liked it. She always hated how they told her that it was mandatory for a woman to be married to a man. She will admit that having children is something that she's always wanted. But after growing up and seeing happy couples everywhere, she felt a bit lonely. There was always a small thought in the back of her head saying, 'It would be nice to have a man to love.' Because of that, she started to wonder what it would be like to have a man.

"Do you think I need a man?"

Anabell looked at her confused. "A man? So this is what it's all about, huh?"

"Yessum."

"Well, you really wanna know what I think?" she paused for a moment. "No."

Her answer confused (Y/N). "No?"

"No. You don't need a man. Look. You're doin' just fine on your own without one. You have your own life. The women out there are usually getting themselves a man because they can't get their own life. Women can't do much but get married and raise kids. There ain't that much jobs for us. You're lucky, though. You managed to get what most can't and you should feel proud about that. Do you feel proud?"

She chuckled. "Yessum."

"Good. But listen closely. I ain't sayin' you shouldn't get a man. You just asked if you needed one, and right now, you don't. You doin' just fine without one. None of this should mean you shouldn't get one. It's nice havin' one. It's nice having someone to love and care about ya. It's your desition if ya want one, sweetie. If ya do, then ya can't stay in here forever.

(Y/N) nodded at this. She smiled and hugged her friend. "Thanks."

Anabell hugged back. "Oh, of course, sweetie." she let go and placed her hands on the young teacher's shoulders. "So what caused these thoughts in the first place?"

She breathed in through her nose and exhaled out her mouth. She said only one word. "Celia."

Anabell lifts her hands up and lets them drop to her lap while rolling her eyes. "Celia. Of course. Why am I not surprised."

"Oh, she ain't that bad. She's just good at heart and wants what she thinks is best for me." (Y/N) as she fiddled with her fingers.

"She's a sucker for pretty boys, that's what she is." Anabell stated. "She wouldn't know what was good for her even if it smacked her in the face."

The two women laughed at the small joke. It was true, though. Now don't get her wrong. She's not a slut, whore, or anyone of those things. She's just someone who falls in love easily and is the type of girl that believes in love at first sight. She's also the type of girl that loves presents. The more presents, the more they love her; is what she thought. Of course, that's dangerous. She's been used and left because of her oblivious and blind mind of this so-called love she thinks she's receiving.

Becoming a school teacher was something that Celia also wanted to be, as well. Five years ago, she came to Strine, not in search of a new life, but because she followed a man here. He left her soon after, though. She was already a teacher from the town she previously lived in, so obtaining a job as a teacher was not a problem for her. She continued to search for a man around town, hoping one of them would finally claim her as their bride. And like always, she says that her new boyfriend, Anthony Miller, will finally be the man she marries. Only time will tell, now.

Anabell reached for the box on the coffee table and opened it to reveal bread and cookies. "Now, why don' we start the stove for the tea and coffee." she said while grabbing a cookie and taking a bite.

(Y/N) nodded and they both stood up to head towards the kitchen.

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

#able x reader #abel #able #scp fanfiction #scp fandom #scp 076 #scp #scp foundation #scp containment breach #SCP-076-2 #Able #Abel #scp 076 2 x reader #x reader #itneverlastsfanfiction

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maddiefriendlovesbilly · 4 years

Note

can you do a ship prompt for polypie but like mission goes super wrong and one actually dies for like real and,,, sadnesss

(First of all, I just wanna apologize to anon for how long this took?? I kept forgetting to take my medicine because I was off my medicine,,,It literally only took a few hours to write I was just too busy procrastinating and being gay (also adhd but shh.))

The Asylum Case

Rating: PG-13, SFW

Ship: Poly P.I.E. (Ghost/Toast/Spooker/Colon)

Warnings: Lots of angst, Major Character Death, Descriptions of intense pain, Sadness >:3 (Tell me if I missed anything!)

Summary: Ghost recounts exactly how he got into his current predicament, which is dying.

Word Count: 1,829

They’re approximately 30 minutes into the investigation when everything, in Ghost’s humble opinion, goes to shit. “But every P.I.E. investigation goes to shit!” you say. Yes, that is, in fact, true, but Ghost has decided that bleeding out on the floor - very slowly, might he add, which is decidedly not fun - constitutes the creation of a new category of “gone to shit”. “But,” you say, “Why not just respawn?” and again, usually, Ghost would do just that - but there’s just one issue; he can’t. Let’s rewind.

They entered the decrepit asylum, joking and teasing and generally enjoying each other’s company - unsuspecting of the horrors yet to come. Once they were inside, the ghost wasted no time in introducing itself; it screamed its sob-story from nowhere in particular, voice bouncing off the walls and echoing down each corridor, all lined with empty cells. Ghost thought he heard sobbing from the one beside him, and so, using the keys the caretaker - who had been the one to call them to investigate, and who looked about as old and decrepit as the asylum - had given him, unlocked the door and (ignoring the disapproving sigh from Toast, and the alarmed yelps from the other two) entered. A girl sat huddled in the corner, long, matted, black hair cascading over her small form, blocking her face. Her tattered white dress hung loosely, and one sleeve slid from her small trembling shoulder as he approached and knelt down. A familiar dread washed over Ghost as he gently asked, “K-Katrina?”

Abruptly, the girl stopped shaking, before giggling once, twice, and then, neck cracking violently, her head shot up and she stared into his eyes with a wide, manic smile. He edged away, wondering why the others hadn’t entered, hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even made a sound since he’d approached Katrina, but he couldn’t look back, not now, because when he stumbled to his feet, backing away, she followed, neck craning oddly to one side. “Katrina-” he started, pleading, “Kat, hey, it’s me, Johnny! Remember?” He fumbled for the door handle, careening into the hall when it opened. No one else was there.

“Yessssss,” Katrina hissed, drawling, “I remember youuuu…” but she didn’t slow her advance; instead, she just kept hurtling towards him. As he ducked beneath a wild swing of her claw, he glimpsed it - the small, red, rope-pattern lines wrapping around her neck, exposed by its unnatural angle - and choked back a sob. “God, Kat, I’m sorry - I’m so sorry!” he heard himself plead. She didn’t seem to hear him, only muttered, “Johnny, Johnny, I remember, yes I remember Johnny. Johnny!” and took another swing. He scrambled back, gritting his teeth when a razor nail clipped his shoulder, and Katrina’s crazed grin widened. Something inside Ghost twitched at the sight, but he pushed it down, he didn’t have time to panic. “Toast?” he called as he scrambled down the empty hallways, “Spook? Colon?!”

No one answered, and Ghost felt his heart sink.

He fumbled with the keyring, detached it from his belt loop - which proved to be much more difficult while his hands shook violently - and jammed a key into the first lock he came across, throwing open the cell door and slamming it behind him, locking it back.

The old door’s hinges creaked dangerously with the force of Katrina’s hands slamming against it, and Johnny could only pray they didn’t give out under the stress. Slowly, the banging subsided and, hand over heart, he sighed in relief. Pulling out his phone, he hit Toast’s contact, and pulled the phone to his ear, listening to it ring. It clicked, and Toast’s blurted in a near-shout, “Sir, where the fuck are you?!” in the background he heard a short hysterical laugh, and Ghost felt one of his own bubble out past the tightness in his chest and the burning in his shoulder. “Just getting chased by a murderous vision from the past - you know, the usual.”

“Are you injured?”

“She nicked me, but its nothing serious.”

“Don’t do anything dangerous,” Spooker said in the background, “A ghost said we can’t respawn here and we don’t want to chance them being right.”

“Where are you, Sir? We’ll come find you.”

“Er,” Ghost muttered, trying to recall where he was, “I’m in a locked cell right now, not sure what floor - I think it’s B-hall though, so first floor probably,” he paused, putting on a cheery, guide-like voice, “Just follow the sounds of screeching and growling, and you should see a crazy lady pacing outside the door,” he said peeking through the small, barred window. Katrina spotted him and slammed a palm against the door, snarling. “take a sharp turn there and - remember this step because it is crucial okay? - sock her right in the face.”

Toast barked out a sharp, brittle laugh, “We’ll do our best.”

“I’ll see you in a few, I’m gonna hang up now because I don’t want to attract too much attention - these ancient hinges don’t exactly appreciate the abuse we’re putting them through.”

“Alright Sir, be careful.”

And careful he was, but you can’t exactly count on ghosts to obey the laws of physics, or even manners, really, because out of the blue, there was the caretaker, and boy did he look smug. “What a lovely reunion between old friends,” he croaked, “It’s almost enough to warm my cold, dead heart!” then cackled wildly. When Ghost didn’t so much as blink in surprise, he sobered, snapping at him, “Why aren’t you surprised? Everything went perfectly, none of you suspected a thing!”

“Dude, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I hunt ghosts for a living; this plot-twist happens every other week.”

“Damn! Well, either way, you’re gonna die here, so I guess it doesn’t really matter. Dead men tell no tales and all that.”

“Again, hate to do this, but literally every case a ghost says something along the lines of “Ohohoho you’re gonna die anyway, so it doesn’t really matter!” and here I am, alive and only slightly harmed.” Another bang reverberated around the room, and Ghost shuffled uncomfortably but couldn’t look away from the immediate threat.

“Oh, uh, exactly how many cases have you done?”

“Dunno,” Ghost shoved his hands into his pockets, “I’ve been doing this since I was like, sixteen, and our schedule’s kinda all over the place because you can’t really predict when a ghost is gonna show up, but we get at least three to seven cases a week, and about half of them are real.” Another slam, followed by creaking and a final loud rattling sound.

“Huh, half, really?”

“Yeah, people are stupid.”

“Agreed. Speaking of stupid, you let your guard down.”

“Oh.” Things seemed to slow down, a sharp pain stabbing through his back. He looked down, watching three claw-like fingers withdraw from his chest, leaving three little holes all the way through. He collapsed, head falling to the side as he coughed wetly, tasting iron. Almost calmly, he watched as blood pooled around him, before glancing up to the doorway, where the door had been ripped open, and now teetered ominously on its hinges. Katrina loomed over him, blood coating her claws.

And that’s it, that’s how he got here. Seconds later, he hears someone shout his name, and he feels the caretaker’s presence vanish. Katrina glances back, but it doesn’t give her enough time to react before a bullet rips through her solid form, followed by another, then another. She screeches and stumbles back, blindly tripping over the lump of Ghost while trying to shield herself from the incoming bullets. He groans as she falls over him, kicking his wounds. The puddle beneath him ripples, blood traveling in tiny rivers through the imperfections in the concrete floor. Absently, Ghost notes that his sight has gone fuzzy at the edges, and black static is creeping in. Katrina lets out one last screech before disappearing, and as soon as she’s gone Toast, Spooker, and Colon all rush to his side. He smiles weakly as Colon pulls his head into his lap, eyes watery. The other two looked similarly panicked, and Ghost finds himself wheezing, “Hey, it’s really not that bad, okay? You guys can just carry me out of here and I can respawn.” Blood bubbles in his throat as he speaks, and he has to turn to the side to cough it up when it scratches at his throat.

The others glance at each other and Ghost frowns, confused. “What?”

“If we moved you now,” Spooker explains, chewing his lip, “you’d probably die of blood loss before we got outside. And I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure you have a punctured lung.”

Ghost’s brows furrow and he laughs sadly. “Sucks to be me I guess…” he ignores the liquid gathering in the back of his mouth, swallowing. “Anybody here magically know first aid?”

They all grimace, shaking their heads. “Ah, well, worth a shot,” he rasps. He feels a tear drip down, catching on his jaw. His chest burns; a hot-cold sensation that tears through him every time he breathes. He can’t focus his eyes anymore, but he looks at the blurry figures he knows are his closest companions - the loves of his life - and smiles, even as more tears follow and he chokes down a gasp of pain. Someone’s holding his face and speaking to him gently, and he can’t understand the words, but he thinks it might be Colon, so he looks up at him. At the same time as a pair of lips meet his temple, and then again and again, until he’s being peppered with kisses. He can feel the body under him shaking now, and through the white-hot burning and the growing ringing in his ears, he makes out stammered apologies and ‘I-love-you’s, and he feels it aching in his bones because it’s not their fault, he did this, and he wishes all the way down to his core that he could go back, that he could undo the pain he knows paints their faces, but he can’t - he’s going to die here, slowly, painfully. The ringing is piercing now and the black static has spread to cover most of his vision, and he thinks he might be screaming, or apologizing, saying goodbye, but he can’t hear anything over the ringing so it’s possible that when he tries to tell them “I love you too” it comes out garbled and incomprehensible. His throat is raw now so he must be screaming, and it’s all so loud until suddenly everything stops.

There’s no ringing, or panic, or crying, or pain. Just empty blackness and total silence. He can’t move, because there’s nowhere to go, there’s nothing here, there’s only void. That is, until the sound of a single raindrop, followed by another, then another, breaks the silence, and like waking up, Ghost blinks, and finds himself standing in front of a grave.

#jess writes #jess answers #venturiantale #johnny ghost #johnny toast #fred spooker #chris colon ghostie #venturiantale pie

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