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lokiskitten · 3 years

Note

Hiya can I request a bucky imagine where he comes across one of your sex toys (preferably a vib or dildo ;) be creative) and then you walk in on him finding it, then he decides to use it on you wondering if you can really take it etc

Bucky Barnes | adult playtime

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Author’s note : so I decided to add a little twist.. I hope you’ll be able to enjoy it ;)

plot : Bucky stumbles upon one of your intimate objects and decides to show you how to efficiently use it. However, he unexpectedly decides to switch to another method.

warnings : smut, mention and use of sex toy, Bucky using his vibranium arm for inappropriate purposes, masturbation, overstimulation.

After you had forgotten one of your belongings in his room, Bucky had no choice but to make his way to yours in order to give it back. He had traveled throughout the avengers’ compound and finally managed to find the place he had been looking for. His hand delicately moved up to the door, knuckles offering gentle taps to the wooden material which resulted in none but light knocks. Surprisingly enough, the man earned no answers. Bucky felt annoyed and frustrated, thinking about how he would have to give you your belonging back another time which would make him loose some of his own. However, no one would know if he decided to break in in order to drop the object off before disappearing behind the door again. It would only be a matter of seconds...

His hand twisted the handle, door opening and revealing the inside of your small bedroom. “y/n?..” Bucky called discreetly, wishing to double check on your presence before getting engaged into this upcoming illegal act. A sigh escaped his lips upon noticing that no one was here, a light head shake coming from the man as he dropped the book down on your desk. However, right as he was about to exit, Bucky’s eyes caught glimpse of a purple length resting on top of your bedsheets. He frowned, feeling too curious to back away as his feet were now leading him towards your bed on which he took the initiative to sit. Was that really what he thought it was?

His hands didn’t hesitate to take ahold of this object which had probably been in contact with your intimacy, his vibranium finger pressing down onto a button and allowing the man to watch the object begin to vibrate. He bit down on his gum, eyes remaining staring at your vibrator. Bucky couldn’t help but imagine how you must’ve probably used it not too long ago if it was resting on top of your bedsheets- though you could’ve never expected someone to penetrate into your room and accidentally bump into it. Perhaps you should learn to lock your doors and fear noisy intruders. Unfortunately, Bucky was caught off guard by the sound of the door opening, revealing your tired silhouette which felt surprised and embarrassed to see your friend in here, holding your vibrator.

Out of shame, Bucky desperately attempted to turn the object off by pressing onto the button again, which only resulted in him switching speeds and rythmes a couple of time before the vibrator finally agreed to turn off. “I was just umh.. you know. Giving you your book back.” He affirmed on a flustered tone, yourself barley leaving him time to place the vibrator down as you were soon to scoot until the bed and yank it out of his hand. This move led a smirk to appear on his face. Bucky admired your embarrassed silhouette. “Hey, tell me something y/n...” he began, adjusting the position he held on the edge of your bed. “You’ve been feeling lonely, huh?”

This question caught you off guard, and obviously led you to feel even more embarrassed than you previously were. It felt as if someone had written down “I’m lonely and crave sexual attention from another human being” on your forehead with the help of a black marker. Visibly, Bucky read right through you. “Whatever I am, it is none of your business, Barnes.” You responded, earning a surprised chuckle coming from the unstable being. He leant back on his palms whilst watching you put the vibrator back into your nightstand’s drawer- feeling nearly saddened face to such a turn off that was this sight. “That’s a shame.” The trained soldier affirmed seriously, blue eyes then diverting up at yours when you finally agreed to turn around. “We could’ve had some fun.”

Had Bucky just offered you to spend some intimate time with him? Out of all the males you knew, he had been the first one to do such a thing. He could tell that he had caught you off guard, and the fact that you didn’t answer straight away could only indicate you were seriously thinking of accepting his proposition. Bucky therefore decided to make a first move, and all of that whilst remaining perfectly serious. “How about you get that vibro back out, mmh? Will you, doll?” He requested, your submissive self having no choice but to allow your organism and mind to crumble under his appetizing offer. And that, Bucky could perfectly sense it. He longed to watch you squirm and clench under his touch.

As previously ordered, your hand pulled open your nightstand’s drawer before your digits could wrap around the purple sex toy to take it back out. It was a basic vibrator, but it remained efficient due to its multiple choices when it came to vibrations. You then proceeded to sit down beside your soon to be one night stand companion, teeth biting down on your bottom lip out of envy and impatience. Bucky didn’t hesitate to take ahold of the toy which he examined for a couple of seconds, blue eyes then diverting towards your head as a gentle smile appeared onto his face. “Is this really what you use to please yourself at night?” He asked, the cocky tone he used making you want to change the truth in your upcoming answer. A chuckle escaped his lips.

“Well, buttercup, let’s see what it can truly do.” Bucky finished, watching as you began to undress yourself for him and the experiences he enjoyed to lead on the human body. It didn’t take long for all of your clothes to be removed- Bucky getting rid of his upper pieces of clothing as well- and you were now laying down with your head pressed against the pillow. Your legs remained spread, knees stuck to your chest as you exposed your bare and pulsating sexe to the older man. Your core, which had yet to soak up, couldn’t appear to wait for Bucky’s touches and what would certainly come along. The man smirked, laying down beside your body as his eyes remained glued to your chest.

His free hand took ahold of the fleshy mound, lips soon wrapping around your areola which he sucked on from a brief moment before setting it free in order to focus on your cunt. A gentle moan escaped your lips, your organism simply reacting to receiving some masculine attention again after spending all this time pleasuring yourself. When the sound of the working vibrator finally began to echo throughout the bedroom, you felt your body automatically fill itself up with bliss and excitement, toes clenching as you eagerly waited for Bucky to begin to work his magic. It didn’t take long until the tip of the vibrating sex toy finally collided with your clit, gliding up and down your slit before going back up to your sensitive bud.

Bucky managed to find his way through your clitoral hood in order to properly reach for your clit, which resulted in shockwaves of pleasure travelling through your crotch and overall lower abdomen. It felt divine, yet still hard to handle and had you clench against the bedsheets. “Buck-“ you began, only to be stopped by the man himself who made sure to keep you within his strong hold to guarantee stability. He now began to rub the tip of the working vibrator in circles against your clit, being perfectly aware that it would make you feel even weaker than you already were. However, you now had grown used to the vibrations, and it didn’t affect you as much as he would’ve wished.

“Feeling anything yet sweetheart?” Bucky asked as he took the initiative to coat the tip of the vibrator in your love juice before allowing himself to slide it within your entrance. The toy vibrated against your walls, though it only started to feel nice once Bucky began to thrust the length in and out of you. “Mmh..” you responded briefly, earning a frustrated sigh coming from the working man. Persuaded that this vibrator was useless, Bucky took it out of you before turning it off and carelessly tossing it to the side, earning a rather upset state coming from your confused self. “Why’d you do that?” You asked before sensing the tip of his cold vibranium fingers come in contact with your clit. It didn’t take long for you to understand his upcoming plans.

“Mmh..” his fingers held just the right type of vibrating pace, which seemed to be growing stronger through time. Your eyelids shut close, head peacefully resting against the pillow as Bucky carried on making his digits rub and vibrate against your cunt. “Are you feeling it now?..” he asked again, blue eyes staring at your clenched face as he appeared to enjoy watching your facial expressions twitch and change. “I am..” you responded breathlessly, those words leading Bucky’s fingers to accelerate the rythme. This was seriously beginning to send you head over heels, allowing your climax to build up within your crotch as Bucky continued to willingly work his magic on you.

In the corner of your mind, you were seriously beginning to wonder if the man’s arm wouldn’t overheat and explode- but it thankfully didn’t. Instead, it carried on vibrating against your clenched core which was desperately seeking for release. It soon became too hard to handle, a burning sensation taking over your legs and sexe the more Bucky’s fingers remained pressed against your clit- offering it pats and rubs. Before you could know it, your orgasm showed up and filled your body with pure bliss, your muscles contracting and tensing up- feeling secretly grateful about the fact that Bucky was here to hold you down and restrain you from hurting yourself. Bucky’s digits progressively paced down, wishing to slowly take away the reason to why you had gone physically crazy.

“That’s it.. you can’t imagine for how long I’ve been wishing to see you purr like a little kitten for me.” Bucky revealed proudly, hand finally moving away from your sexe. “Quit wasting your money on useless toys. Save up some cash by calling my number instead.” The man advised with a wink before sitting up onto his bum, allowing you to recover from the intense overstimulation you had just been put through.

@bucky-soldat ,, you deserve to be tagged in this. I love you!❤️

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moonlitceleste · 3 years

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Elevator Love (Ch. 1)

A/N: Welcome to my first multi-chaptered fic! This was supposed to be a one-shot but I kept writing and here we are. I’m not super happy with this, so I’m probably going to rewrite it eventually. Staring at my document hasn’t seemed to help so far, so I’m probably gonna take a break on this and work on requests. For now, just sit back and enjoy :D

Marinette gnawed on her lip nervously as her fingers toyed with the ladybug keychain on her white crossbody purse.

Her eyes were glued to the towering Wayne Enterprises building before her. The big “W” atop it seemed to stare her down, issuing a silent challenge for her to walk past its doors.

“You got this, Marinette!”

The heroine smiled weakly at Tikki’s assurance—although she did appreciate the sentiment, Marinette wasn’t quite sure she could agree.

She was not prepared to meet Tim whatsoever.

Sure, they had been friends for nearly two years—but regardless, Marinette couldn’t help but stress.

It had all started when Tim decided to commission MDC for a few pieces, offering a large sum of money in exchange for her efforts. Despite being doubtful of whether or not he was truly who he claimed to be, Marinette accepted the request.

Soon enough, back-and-forth emails progressed to casual texting, which led to an eventual friendship. The two seemed to click naturally, which was evident in their smoothly-flowing conversations.

Tim knew everything there was to know about her (barring her identity, of course), yet they had never met in person.

He was the co-CEO of a multi-billion dollar company and she was a prominent designer that moonlighted as a superhero—finding time to video chat one another was hard enough.

But now that Marinette had finished université, she had nothing tying her down to Paris. 19 was a young age to be done with school, but her life wasn’t exactly normal.

That’s why a few weeks before graduation, Marinette decided to email Bruce Wayne.

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision; Tim had made an offhand remark about how he wished he could be there for her graduation, and the cogs in Marinette’s brain began to turn. Maybe he couldn’t come to Paris, but she could go to Gotham.

Once her mind was made up, it was only a matter of planning.

It was surprisingly easy to get ahold of Tim’s father; from then on, everything else fell into place.

Perhaps attempting to surprise someone as smart as him went against her better judgement, but it was too late to turn back now.

Marinette’s phone pinged, and she scrambled to press her thumb to its home button. Speak of the devil.

Mr. Wayne

It’s ready.

Tell your name to the receptionist at the front desk, and she’ll give you a lanyard with a pass into Tim’s office as well as a set of directions.

I apologize again for not being there to guide you; unfortunately, I have other matters to attend to.

Marinette tucked the gift box she was holding under one arm, freeing her hands to type out a response.

Marinette

Thank you so much for your generosity, M. Wayne!

I really appreciate all your help in planning this, and for allowing me to surprise Tim in the first place.

Despite your busy schedule you’ve gone through so much trouble to help me. I really can’t thank you enough!

Once she pressed send on her last message, Marinette inhaled deeply.

Her hands moved to smooth down the soft fabric of her blush pink dress.

It was an admittedly simple ensemble, but the billowy sleeves and fluttery skirt gave it a delicate flair. Her white strappy sandals, circle purse, and wavy half-up braided hairstyle tied it all together nicely.

Marinette checked herself over one last time to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything. She tucked her phone into her purse, grabbed the box containing Tim’s gift, and turned to look at the imposing building with a burst of newfound confidence.

Here we go.

“To the right…” Marinette muttered. “Or was it to the left?”

The designer scrunched her nose in confusion, turning around in a circle to better survey the building.

She had already obtained the lanyard and directions, but decided to make a last-minute detour to the bathroom. It shouldn’t have been a problem since Marinette was a few minutes early, but now she was lost. Sure, the place had a fairly open floor plan, but it was enormous! She couldn’t be expected to navigate this.

In hindsight, maybe deciding to deviate from her original schedule had been a mistake.

Marinette sighed and started walking. She didn’t want to disturb anyone, so wandering aimlessly was her only other option.

Well, it wasn’t her only option—she could easily use her Ladybug magic to give herself a push in the right direction, but Tikki would disapprove. Oh, and it was wrong to use her powers for selfish gain. Marinette totally remembered that.

Turns out she didn’t even need to use her Ladybug powers, though; it only took a few minutes of searching for her to stumble across what she was looking for.

About 10 meters away was a set of elevators lined up against the wall. A glowing “up” arrow was visible on the panel beside a pair of open steel doors.

Marinette’s eyes widened at the sight of the open elevator. She promptly broke into a jog, careful to keep her speed somewhat appropriate for the environment. The doors started to close, and Marinette’s heart raced faster. There was a shadowed figure inside, but due to the angle they likely couldn’t see her.

“Wait!” she called as loudly as she dared.

It was almost funny how similar the experience was to her lycée days.

Marinette pushed the thought to the back of her mind—she would rather not taint her day with memories of that dumpster fire.

She turned her attention back to the elevator, whose doors had retreated. Thankfully, the person inside heard her. Marinette slowed her pace as she covered the last few meters, but was mindful to not walk obnoxiously so.

As she approached her destination, it became increasingly apparent that whoever was inside was remarkably tall.

Ugh, she could practically hear Tim’s jest in her head—are you sure it’s not just because you’re short? He loved to poke fun at her height with short jokes, even though he was only 8 cm taller than her.

Anyways, despite her petite stature, Marinette was sure the person inside would be considered tall by any standards.

She prepared a friendly smile, a “thanks” on the tip of her tongue when they finally came into view.

The first thing she saw was a pair of worn black men’s work boots on what was an admittedly toned body.

Marinette didn’t let her eyes linger on the muscles there, rather opting to trace her gaze from the man’s body up to their face. And wow, was that a gorgeous face.

She wasn’t the type to fall for someone based on appearance alone, but Marinette would be crazy to think this wasn’t the most attractive person she’d ever seen.

He had messy black hair with a pure white streak in the front, tousled to perfection in a way that would make a supermodel jealous. His brilliant green eyes were pools of emerald, richer than any shade she had seen before. Marinette would gladly drown in them.

Speaking of his eyes, he was looking at her with his captivating gaze and mesmerizing face...

Marinette would forever deny swooning at the sight. She would never swoon.

(She totally did.)

Say something! she scolded.

“Uh, than-thank you.”

Oh no. It was the stutter.

Not just a stutter, but the stutter. The one that only appeared when she was nervous and/or talking to hot guys.

Marinette had long outgrown it—or at least, she thought she had—but apparently now it was back with a vengeance.

Her face heated up, and she moved forward to press the button to her designated floor before taking her place some distance away from the man. She turned her head away in embarrassment, hair shielding her face so he couldn’t see her flushed cheeks.

If she had been looking up, perhaps Marinette would have been prepared for the flood of incoming mass. But she was too busy cursing herself to notice the group of people entering until she felt a nudge on her right side.

Marinette squeaked at the stack of boxes that was suddenly in front of her face and looked up to see a small group of workers entering the elevator, pushing a large platform truck stacked with packages. She shuffled on instinct to make more room.

The cart seemed way too big to fit, especially with the capacity of the elevator. Someone would have to contort themselves, or at the very least they’d be squished up against one another uncomfortably.

Marinette watched as they pushed the platform truck in all the way. It left the tiniest bit of wiggle room, just enough space for someone to squeeze past.

The designer found herself slowly edging towards her left each time another person wiggled their way past the load.

The elevator wasn’t too crowded, and the process went relatively smoothly—that is, until the last worker attempted to get inside.

He had a build somewhat similar to her Papa: tall and large, so his struggle was understandable. It took a minute of grunts and loud sighs, but he managed to slip past the obstruction and into the elevator.

His large frame, however, meant less space for everyone, and Marinette felt the sudden impact of being shoved.

She couldn’t help the soft yelp that fell out of her mouth as her feet stumbled, and before she knew it her left side was firmly pressed up against someone.

Oh god. It was Hot Guy. Of course it was him.

She pressed her lips together in mortification, arms squeezing Tim’s gift to her chest even tighter.

“Sorry.”

Marinette nearly jumped as the husky voice spoke quietly next to her ear. Her head whipped towards the direction it came from, which wasn’t exactly hard to place. There was only one person on her left side.

She turned her head to face the man with the white streak. She had to crane her neck awkwardly in order to properly see him, which really put into perspective their height difference.

His green eyes were sincere, and Marinette could see the apology in them.

The lack of space wasn’t his fault whatsoever, but it was nice to see someone care about her boundaries.

“U-um, it’s okay.”

Marinette smiled at him shyly, then diverted her eyes away. Her brief burst of courage could only take her so far.

Before she knew it, the ride was over. The elevator stopped with a ding, and coincidentally enough, everyone was headed to the same floor.

Marinette fished out the set of directions Mr. Wayne had written from her purse, skimming over them once more. Her stomach filled with butterflies at the thought of finally meeting her best friend.

She barely noticed the workers pushing out the platform truck or Hot Guy walking away, the outside world long forgotten.

Marinette’s body went on autopilot, following the instructions on the paper until she found herself stopped in front of a sleek door. She didn’t know what it was made of, but she was glad it wasn’t glass like many other things in Wayne Enterprises. That would make her surprise a lot harder to pull off.

Above the key card security system on the left was a name plate, nearly identical to others she had passed on her way here. The name Tim Drake was written in elegant silver cursive letters, the metal gleaming as if it were brand new.

Marinette’s chest tightened in anticipation as she pulled out the lanyard Mr. Wayne had given her. She took a deep breath before knocking twice.

There was a short pause before a familiar voice responded.

“Who is it?”

She scanned her card and opened the door.

“Marinette?!”

A/N: For reference, Marinette is 5’3” (160 cm) and Jason is 6’4” (193 cm), so there's a 13" (33 cm) difference. I tried to use French terms and measurements so it'd feel more like Marinette's perspective.

And yea, I'm not super proud of this so I'm probably gonna rewrite it in the future. I have a bunch of other WIPs to work on though, so sorry in advance for my wacky updating schedule!

PERMANENT TAGLIST @avengerthewarrior @enternalempires @freesportspalacesalad @h1sss @nathleigh

#maribat #celestewrites #timari #platonic timari #jasonette #cel's fics

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btsmosphere · 4 years

Text

Crossfire | KTH

Moodboard Masterlist

~summary: The night your life blew up sent you on a collision course with the campus bad boy, Kim Taehyung. Though you were well aware of his reputation, it was his doorstep you ran to when you were bleeding with nowhere to go.

~word count: 5k

~gang!au, mafia!au, college!au, angst, fluff, action, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating (warnings apply to each part individually, please read them)

~a/n: this week our gal gets some shit done and comes to a realisation due to Yoongi... also I am once again thanking everyone for supporting this story💜💜love you all,, n for those of you who haven’t heard I’m going to be posting a spooktober story soon so stay tuned...

“I want to help.”

Tae paused in the doorway, a steaming plate in each hand, staring at you with a dumbfounded expression.

“Huh?”

“I want to do something to help, you know, with the plan,” you eagerly pressed on.

“Oh,” Taehyung nodded, but a pout remained on his face as he kicked the door shut gently behind him, “the plan with Shinhyuk?”

“Yep.”

Nervously eyeing him as he shifted onto the bed, you waited for him to speak. Instead, he just passed you one of the plates and began to tuck in.

“Taehyung?”

“Mmm,” he hummed indistinctly, looking up at you, cheeks full of food.

“So… can I help?”

For just a moment, his bewildered stare was all that greeted you and his chewing slowed.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, as if it was obvious.

“Oh. Okay.”

Admittedly, you hadn’t expected it to be that easy. As you began to eat yourself, Taehyung quickly went back to devouring his own meal without a second thought.

For once, the two of you were inside together during the day as it was the weekend and he wasn’t required for anything except a meeting, which was happening at his place anyway. With him here, you didn’t really need anything else to pass the time, but he had still vowed to bring you some more books soon, given that you had worked your way through the first pile completely now.

After last night, and if you were honest with yourself, even before that, any worry about being around Taehyung had faded away. Not only could you easily pass the time chatting, you very much enjoyed your time with him.

However, once you had both finished your food, it wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door announcing the arrival of the boys and the start of the meeting.

Only four had come as Jimin and Yoongi were out, doing ‘something’. You didn’t ask for details.

Taking the seat furthest from the window, hopefully hidden by Taehyung who sat beside you, you simply stayed quiet for most of the conversation. They didn’t need your input anyway; the plan sounded like it was progressing as well as it could be.

First of all, Jungkook and Namjoon confirmed the first members of Shinhyuk’s group they had managed to pick off, including the leader of a base inside his territory, though the rest were low-level: drivers, informants, dealers, fighters. Not enough to make his gang disappear by any stretch.

Not yet anyway, as Namjoon kept saying in encouragement.

As they resolved to keep digging through rival members, the real challenge was finding an in within Shinhyuk’s immediate circle – the ones who apparently were mainly stationed at what used to be your house.

“All I have is names,” Jungkook sighed, “even though I’m one of them, no one reveals anything about themselves.”

“Even the names might be fake,” Jin reminded him.

“I know,” Jungkook jammed his hands through his hair, “and there’s one – Jintao – he really doesn’t trust me. Makes it difficult for me to do anything. Always has his eyes on me.”

“Y/N can help,” Taehyung cut in then, causing four heads to turn sharply in your direction. You refused to squirm under their glares.

“Tae…” Jin was the first to speak, “it’s dangerous. I’ve been staking out Shin’s clubs and I’ve almost been caught so many times trying to talk to people-“

“She doesn’t have to go out on missions,” Tae reasoned, “a lot of snooping can be done from inside, and since she doesn’t have much else to do…”

“We have access to hackers, Tae,” Namjoon dismissed.

Biting your lip, you looked down. Since Tae had accepted your request to help so easily, you weren’t exactly prepared for this analysis. Perhaps it was stupid to think you would be able to assist these boys.

“She’s just as much a part of this as we are,” Taehyung surprised you with the ferocity in his voice, “she’ll be able to help. And I’ll let her even if you guys don’t.”

Namjoon in particular looked shocked by the younger boy’s unwavering words, but you watched in relief as he gave his assent with a nod, the others raising no further argument.

“What raids are coming up, Jungkook?” Hoseok brought the meeting back on track, prompting Jungkook to relay all the dates Shinhyuk had deals or attacks planned.

You listened as the boys decided which to focus on, though again they were frustrated by their lack of progress. Until Jungkook felt safe again, they weren’t going to counter any attacks, but they could make sure no one would be in the target properties to keep their allies out of danger.

Overall, the meeting left each of you feeling unsatisfied. This war with Shinhyuk was like having an unbearable itch while your hands were tied behind your back. You could only hope their careful preparation would eventually lend them the upper hand when they felt confident enough to retaliate.

With restless minds but nothing to do, Taehyung asked his friends to stay and a movie was agreed upon. As you had observed before, the boys relaxed remarkably quickly, and you were soon laughing with Hobi and Tae as you poured out snacks in the kitchen.

As you collected the packets, Hoseok returned to sit down. You and Tae had barely set foot around the corner when Hoseok let out a yell.

Startled, your head whipped around to find Yoongi standing silently in the doorway, leaning against one side, arms folded and a murderous expression.

“I didn’t see you there,” Hoseok breathed, laughing with a hand over his heart.

Before you could stop it, a snort escaped you, barely choked back, remembering exactly what you had said about Yoongi the night before. Luckily, you weren’t the only one, as you heard Taehyung beside you laughing through his nose, more successful at suppressing the sound.

“I hope there’s good news from the meeting,” Yoongi glared at you two, “I’m going bloody insane dancing around Shinhyuk like this.”

Everyone switched straight back to business mode around you, but you made the mistake of glancing over at Taehyung.

As soon as you made eye contact, neither of you could control yourselves and you had to fight to keep in your mirth. The dark warning glances from the other boys did nothing but fan the flames. Taehyung bit down on his lips as they threatened to break out into laughter; your cheeks ached.

Sinking onto the sofa, Taehyung looked pointedly away from you, shoving his fist into his mouth, shoulders still shaking.

With the tears brimming in your eyes, you didn’t care to listen to Yoongi as he talked about whatever he and Jimin had just come back from. When Jimin came in, a strangled laugh leapt from your mouth before you clamped it shut again, but you had set Tae off again.

The orange-haired boy across the room stared at you both like you were crazy.

“What’s your problem?” Yoongi’s sour face only made it harder to remove him from the ridiculous cartoon stereotype and Taehyung finally broke, guffawing loudly with his head thrown back, before falling against you and clinging to your shoulder, tears running down his face.

Shocked to find Taehyung’s head suddenly pressed into the crook of your neck, your breathless laugh was finally cut off. All you could do was stare down at him with a smile as he pulled himself together, wheezing dramatically the whole time.

At last, he seemed to realise himself and abruptly let go of your shirt. Pulling back, you were face to face for a second, expressions reflecting each other’s surprise, before he closed his mouth and turned back to Yoongi with a flawless poker face.

“Nothing.”

And then you were laughing again.

The prospect of Yoongi almost definitely hating you now didn’t bother you anymore. In the days following the meeting, you had begun to work through the list of names Jungkook had scribbled down of the members of Shinhyuk’s current inner members:

-Gi Beomho- has a Gwangju accent?

-Chaewon/known as Seb

-(Lee?) Minho

-Soonjae

-Jintao

Taehyung had told you his laptop password and you began trawling through the internet for any traces.

Though you were by no means a hacker, one of your friends at college, Jake, had once showed you a few things he knew how to do from his course in computing. Not to mention you were able to stalk someone very efficiently on social media from investigating the hot guy Lisa had seen on the street, or finding Soo’s mysterious girlfriend she refused to introduce to your group.

Now, though, there were no friends laughing around you as you tried to take apart the gang that was living in your house.

After your first afternoon of searching, nothing fruitful came up. When Taehyung had come back in the evening, you were more than happy to abandon the task and join him in your usual dinner routine, falling asleep soon after when you settled down together to watch a film.

But as the days progressed, you became more determined and frustrated in equal measure as you came across few things. You had worked your way through 3 people, giving up only after you had exhausted every avenue you could think to investigate.

Lee Minho took you even longer than the others to rule out, though you suspected from the beginning it was an alias since he shared the name with the famous actor, meaning there was an immense amount of unrelated material cluttering any path to finding the gang member, no matter what you searched.

Slumping back against the headboard, you set the laptop aside and flipped it shut.

Your attempt at working your way through the newest stack of books Taehyung had brought you was much slower than the first time around. Until he came back home, you barely took in the words.

At your side, a notebook containing the few possible leads consistently stole your attention instead.

You had managed to gain access to a couple of police reports on a Gi Beomho in Gwangju, but you would have to verify with Jungkook whether the photo was of the right person, or if you were barking up the wrong tree entirely.

When Tae finally arrived, you anxiously greeted him. Today Shinhyuk had planned his largest attack yet, on a shop that was a front for gang activity, and you knew all the boys had been on standby.

Taking in the scattered books, paper and laptop on the bed, his shoulders slumped.

“Nothing yet?”

“No, sorry,” you confirmed with a sigh.

“Don’t apologise,” he reached out and rubbed a hand along your upper arm to your shoulder. There it lingered, fingers slowly massaging for a moment.

“Were you hurt today?”

In only the short time since he came in, he had only squeezed out a smile once as he tried to reassure you.

At the shake of his head, you felt a knot in your chest release. But he still wasn’t happy.

“So what happened?”

“We didn’t go in at all. It was a lost cause,” he sat on the bed and kicked his shoes off without energy, “he shut the whole place down. It’s done for.”

With another huff, he fell back to lie on the bed. You did the same.

Weighty silence hovered over you both.

You had no idea how long you merely stared up at the ceiling, paralysed, before Taehyung moved. Slowly, he reached his hand out, fingers finding yours. As he intertwined your hands where they lay between you, you simply let your eyes slide shut, squeezing back.

“I know you’ll find something.”

Though you appreciated his support, he said it to assure himself as much as you.

Whether he could see or not, you nodded.

Just then, Tae’s familiar ringtone chimed in the silence. Pulling his phone from a pocket, he held it above him, checking the caller. Deciding it was worth it, he reluctantly pulled his had from yours to push himself up as he swiped across the screen and held the device to his ear.

Sitting up too, you could hear Jungkook’s voice crackling out from the phone.

“Hyung, I think I-I messed up-“

“Woah, Jungkook, what happened?”

“I was in Shinhyuk’s car, and I saw a file in there, he was looking through it, and it had you guys in it! It was labelled ‘bangtan’ and it’s full of information on everyone- I didn’t know he had that, but I just- I panicked, and I stole it, and now I have it but Shinhyuk’s leaving before me and he’ll notice it’s gone and- fuck-“

You caught Tae’s eye as you both listened in horror to the scared maknae.

“Where are you Kook?” Tae demanded, eyes breaking from yours.

“Um, at Y/N’s,” he replied, “the others are just packing away-“

But before he could finish, you had reached over and pulled the phone right out of Taehyung’s grasp.

“Jungkook,” you hissed into the receiver, “there’s two loose floorboards under my wardrobe at the back, they’re pretty quiet to move, can you hide it in there?”

“Uh, yeah,” the boy responded, “thanks.”

You lowered the phone to return to Tae, but suddenly brought it back to your ear.

“And don’t look at any of the stuff that’s already in there!”

“Oh- okay,” the boy sounded startled, but Tae seemed to find your miniature panic hilarious as he took the phone back and hung up.

Saying nothing, he wiggled his eyebrows and smirked at you.

“Oh, shut it,” you ignored the heat rising in your cheeks and shoved him lightly back onto the bed, where he only laughed louder.

“It’s not even- oh you are ridiculous,” you cried as he pulled you down on top of him, only making you turn redder.

In your embarrassment, you tried to wriggle away from him, pushing on his chest, but he grabbed your wrists, bringing you back down, grin ever-present on his face.

“Hey!” you protested, and then, “Ya! Stop! Tae-“

His hands reached down to tickle your sides, and you squirmed away from him again, only to have him follow, ending up on top of you as he mercilessly continued his attack, enjoying himself far too much.

“Ohmygod, ahh, Tae, please, aaaahahaha…”

Struggling, you writhed around, legs kicking out as you shrieked in protest before you finally reached his sides and exacted your revenge. He curled in on himself, giggling and apologising to get you to stop. You did, eventually, only to throw a pillow right at his face, though he easily caught it in the hands he had held up in surrender.

Both collapsing back onto the bed, you turned your head to one side, but you found he was already looking back at you. His laughter had dissipated into a smile which you returned.

“Thanks for helping out Kook,” he said earnestly, eyes boring into yours, “I told you that you would be helpful.”

This time, your heart soared with his praise.

You weren’t hopeful about finding ‘Soonjae’, or anything that could bring him away from Shinhyuk. Having gone through half the list already, the remaining two were the people Jungkook had the least information on.

Trudging through the morning, you were reluctant to take to the computer and be met with more inevitable defeat. Today you felt particularly tired, which didn’t help.

It was strange since you had slept for a long time, waking only after Taehyung had gone, leaving you missing his presence, even if you barely touched him while you shared a bed.

Nonetheless, you found yourself sifting through links and articles online, far from the first page of Google filled with celebrities and international news. With the little information you had on the man, you ended up reading through anything and everything containing the name Soonjae. Facebook profiles, comments on newspaper articles, a GoFundMe page…

Taking a sip of water, you scrolled idly to the bottom of the GoFundMe, which was for a child after all, no gang member, and read the ‘recent’ donations (the most recent being over a year old) and comments. Nothing.

Clicking on ‘show more’, you pulled up the full comment list and scanned through. For what, you weren’t sure. Most donations were small bits and pieces, but among the ones from three years ago, one was a little more sizeable. Along with it came an interesting comment: a woman called Sara was apologising for her ‘previous words’ and wishing the boy well.

You frowned as you read it. Though it was almost certainly unrelated, you were undeniably curious as to what she might have said to target an ill child.

Clicking next on the woman’s account, you decided to try and log in. After employing the password tricks Jake had showed you, you made it. The account had been created the same day as the donation was made on little Soonjae’s page, and appeared untouched since. You supposed this tangent had come to nothing, though you were certainly pleased with your skills after getting into the account.

Closing down the tab, you searched next for ‘Soonjae GoFundMe’. There was the campaign you had already seen, followed by a few that proved to be unrelated as well. You selected ‘next page’ with little hope.

Then something caught your eye.

About halfway down, the name Sara.

Quickly selecting the page, you found yourself on Facebook instead of GoFundMe, but what you found was certainly interesting. It was the same woman from the earlier page. This time she had posted a status:

If anyone on here donates to Soonjae’s fucking gofundme get ready to be cut out of my life XD cheaters don’t deserve your pity

That was certainly interesting. No wonder she had apologised to the boy – it also explained her big donation – probably given out of guilt.

But re-reading the status, you realised she couldn’t possibly be talking about the boy. Unless by ‘cheater’ she meant that he had cheated on a test in school, but you suspected that was not the case.

You clicked on her profile.

Her profile picture showed her holding a little boy that must be around ten, standing on a beach. Flipping through her older profile images, they stopped three years ago. Perhaps she had deleted all previous ones?

Only friends can see Sara’s photos

Only friends can see Sara’s timeline

“Not just friends…” you muttered, getting to work.

Unluckily for Sara, she had used the same password as on her GoFundMe, so you logged in easily.

The first thing you saw was that she reportedly lived in your city: a promising start. Scrolling through to three years ago, you saw only one other post close in time to her attack on Soonjae and his fundraising page:

Sara is feeling: heartbroken X(

That lead you nowhere, so you made your way back up her feed, seeing photos of her son and meals with friends. Few stuck out as anything but happy, all possibly related to the mysterious events of three years ago.

That’s right, delete your fucking facebook. I don’t need to worry about blocking you now XD

Sara is feeling: defeated☹: Just got out of court. Nrs

What was the point in all this? Just to prove something? Well you did, you proved I was right all along

Now you really were intrigued. You needed to find out what was going on, she was definitely linked to a Soonjae in your city, so you had reason to investigate further. Still, as you clicked on the messages icon, you felt very much like a trespasser.

Searching for ‘Soonjae’ at the top, two conversations were pulled up, both from three years ago. One with ‘Park Soonjae’ and one with ‘Help Soonjae’.

First choosing ‘Help Soonjae’, recognising the profile picture as the same image used on the GoFundMe, you read the exchange of messages.

Sara: What the fuck is this?

Sara: I can’t believe you’re pulling the pity card after what you’ve done

Help Soonjae: Excuse me?

Sara: You know what I mean

Help Soonjae: Ma’am, I don’t know you but please calm down. I will block you, this page is only trying to raise hospital funds for my son. I’d thank you to explain how this is ‘pulling the pity card’

Sara: Wait… Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!

Sara: I can’t apologise enough, I thought this was my husband’s page, he has the same name as your son! I didn’t check the page before messaging, I didn’t mean to offend you or your son

Sara: I’ll make a donation to your page to make up for this. I wish your son the best

Read 15:47

And that was the end of that. Wincing with second hand embarrassment, you quickly moved on to ‘Park Soonjae’.

Soon, you realised that the message history was long, but it all ended three years ago. You gave up on scrolling your way to the top, seeing that most messages consisted of ‘I love you’s and reminders to buy milk. The final conversation, however, gave you a lot more information.

Sara: What the fuck is this?

Then followed a screenshot of a GoFundMe page: Help Soonjae win Custody

Sara: You cheated. Maybe you should write that in your description.

Soonjae: Sara, I’ve told you I’m sorry

Sara: And I’ve told you that’s not enough. We are over

Soonjae: I can understand that. I just can’t understand why you want to keep my son from me!

Sara: HOW CAN YOU NOT TELL?!?!

Sara: I never want to see you again, and I don’t want kai to either

Soonjae: How can I make it up to you without going to court? I can’t afford the fees and you know it

Sara: You can’t ‘make it up’ to me. And it’s not my problem anymore if you can afford it or not. I’m blocking you

And that was it.

You wasted no time in opening Soonjae’s profile in a new tab, before taking a screenshot of the messages and logging out of Sara’s account.

Soonjae’s account was indeed deleted, confirming him as the target of Sara’s earlier status update. One search for new profiles under the same name showed no one promising. Your ‘breakthrough’ seemed more trivial now you had taken a step back from it. Without a picture of the Soonjae you had found, you couldn’t confirm if you were on the right target.

You had one last option, and searched for the GoFundMe Sara had sent a screenshot of. At last you found it, though it took a while as it had been declared finished and was from so long ago.

But, once you opened it, it turned out Sara’s screenshot hadn’t included the full photo at the top of the campaign. It had only showed a baby cradled in someone’s arms, but on the site, the full photo extended to show the man’s face.

This time, you did not scroll down.

You just stared.

There would be no need for Jungkook to verify if this was the right man. Those eyes had stared at you before from underneath a hoodie in your own bedroom not so long ago. And the hands that held his son had given you the wound in your side.

“Holy shit…” you breathed, taking a screenshot when you recovered from your shock.

Then you proceeded to scroll down. And it seemed like you had hit the jackpot.

The description had been updated, and the last lines read:

Thanks for the generosity. This page will be deactivated as I have now sourced funding from a private benefactor. Will update those who donated on the court result.

“Tae! Oh my god-“

You froze on the stairs.

On hearing the door opening downstairs, you had presumed Taehyung had returned, but instead, Yoongi stood in the hallway.

“Hi,” he said coolly.

“Sorry,” you murmured, but didn’t retreat back upstairs. Staring back at him, laptop and notebook clutched in your arms, you felt the need to share your breakthrough.

After a few seconds glaring at you, Yoongi moved away down the hallway. Taking a breath, you followed.

“Um, sorry, I thought you were Tae,” you spoke from the door.

“Ok,” came his short reply as he rooted in the fridge.

“Actually, er,” you pushed, making the boy at least turn around and acknowledge your presence, “I wanted to show him something. But… I can show you instead. You know how I was searching up Shinhyuk’s closest members, well, I think I found something.”

His unimpressed face vanished at least a little, and he nodded, taking a swig from the drink he had picked.

“Okay,” you placed the laptop on the island and opened the screenshots you had saved, “so I found this woman’s messages with a Soonjae in the city, they were getting divorced but he couldn’t afford the legal costs to fight for custody of their son.”

Yoongi leaned forwards to read the screen and you stepped aside, worrying your lip. Watching him read, you leaned against the counter to support your tired legs.

“Bastard,” he muttered.

“Pardon?”

“He cheated on her,” he said simply, gesturing towards the screen, drink in hand.

You hummed in agreement and flipped onto the second image.

“He set up this GoFundMe, but see how it says he then received funding from elsewhere.”

“Could be Shinhyuk, definitely,” Yoongi agreed, “I can send Jungkook this guy’s picture-“

“Actually, you don’t have to,” you cut in, “I, er, I recognise him. He was one of Shinhyuk’s that broke into my place.”

“Shit,” Yoongi breathed, turning to take a look back at the man on the screen, “good catch.”

“Thanks,” you couldn’t help but smile, “so… what now?”

Setting his drink aside, Yoongi bent over the counter and opened a new tab, sending the images to his own email, along with a final one of Sara’s details on Facebook.

“I think we have enough to work with. We can use the details for leverage and approach him.”

“Nice,” you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling. Even if only Yoongi was around to see it, you were just proud to have hopefully helped bangtan get another rival under their belt, and get closer to defeating Shinhyuk.

It seemed Yoongi had finished with the laptop, even though he hadn’t yet left the kitchen or even picked his drink up again. Awkwardly, you stepped closer to shut the laptop and slide it off the counter.

Taking a stride back towards the door, you hesitated.

“Well, erm, thanks, I’ll just- yeah.”

“Wait.”

You turned back around, surprised at just how small Yoongi’s voice sounded. Not knowing what to say, you waited as he stood shuffling his feet.

At last he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Listen, I’m sorry for, you know… trying to kill you that time,” he said. His voice was quiet, as if a lower volume would allow him to pretend he never said it.

“Well there’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear,” you chuckled.

“No, I really am,” he spoke stronger this time, actually looking at you, “I know I haven’t been the nicest and-“

“No, it’s okay,” you flashed him another smile, “I know you were just trying to protect Tae.”

He fell silent again for a moment, and you thought that might be it. But something was still on the tip of his tongue and he looked down, one hand coming to scratch his ear.

“I want to tell you I’m happy for you guys. You seem… well, really nice, and I know Tae thinks so too, and I trust him, so… yeah.”

Gulping, he looked up at you, trying to hide his mortification at the barrage of emotion he had just released. You just stared back at him, lost for words.

Maybe he had said something wrong?

“A-and, thank you for doing this work on Shinhyuk’s gang, it’ll really help us. What you did was really impressive-“

“I-I’m sorry,” you finally spluttered out, “what did you mean when you said you- you’re… you’re happy for us?”

Looking back at you, his eyes widened.

“Shit, are you guys not-“

You tried to swallow down any signs of how flustered you were, clutching the laptop tighter in front of your chest. Perhaps he didn’t mean what you thought he might-

“I thought you guys were dating. Shit.”

You couldn’t agree more with that last sentiment.

Just as you opened your mouth, without knowing what you planned on saying, you were saved by the bell. Or rather, the door.

Tae had finally come home. It would be an understatement to say he was surprised to find you and Yoongi together, in conversation too apparently. Hopefully Yoongi had finally quit his tough act and exposed his softness that Tae had insisted you would find eventually.

Yoongi was quick to inform Tae of what you had dug up on Soonjae. Taehyung put his hand on your shoulder, sending you a proud grin that made your heart race as he told you he knew you could do it.

The whole time you were aware of Yoongi watching the interaction, and you excused yourself as soon as you could, leaving the boys to themselves.

Practically running up the stairs, you were left panting as you closed the door to the bedroom. Just one short burst of speed had knocked you out, but that concern barely crossed your mind as you surrendered to the mattress, thinking only of what Yoongi had told you.

He thought you were dating? Ridiculous…

But then why had the suggestion got to you so much? Sure, you shared a bed with the guy, and you enjoyed being with him, and liked it when he held your hand or hugged you…

Fuck.

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fweasleyswhore · 4 years

Text

F.W. Who We Are

Chapter Two: Your Least Favorite Color

Chapter One

a/n chapter two my lovlies!! i rlly wanted to pump this out p fast bc ive been having so much fun with it and i hope you are too!

summary: fred and george tell you their plan for their prank. fluff with a pinch of angst.

word count: 3k

warnings: some touching??? uncomfy situation??

tags: @you-make-children-cry @levylovegood @bohemianspacebabe

comment a request to be added to my taglist !

“Snape’s least favorite color?” I laughed out. “I think you mean, like, any color. I mean has he ever worn anything that isn’t black?”

I was now seated in a small semblance of a circle on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, Fred and George in front of me. It was most definitely past curfew but because tomorrow was Saturday I really didn’t care, the time was the last thing on my mind. The most present thought I had was how the hell Fred and George were going to change the color of all the cauldrons in Snape's room and get away with it.

“Well, now that you bring it up, I do believe I saw him in robes that looked rather navy instead of black.” George pondered, looking up to the ceiling and tapping his chin as if he was deep in thought.

“Oh bug off!” I laughed and smacked him on the arm. He looked at his arm with wide eyes, his smile gone. Before I could ask if I was too forceful he was pretending to cry, a little too loud than he should’ve considering it was well past 12 and I am technically trespassing. None of us cared though or even thought to care as we watched George grasp onto his brother’s arms like it was the last thing he would ever do.

“I-I don’t want to die Freddie.” He whispered. His grip tightened onto his brother as he spoke again. “Freddie, I…” He then let out a loud, fake sob. “There’s so much I haven’t done.” He dropped his head and shook it. I rolled my eyes, how long was he going to keep this up?

Fred brought his hands up to cradle his brother’s head. “It’s ok George, you can let go, it’s ok.” He looked into his brother’s eyes tearfully, “I’ll help you…”

Before George could react Fred lifted one of his hands and swiftly flicked him on the forehead. George let out a loud groan and spasmed a bit in Fred’s arms, I watched with narrowed eyes as he seized up and shook.

“You look more like a fish out of water than a dying man,” I said smugly. George rose up and fixed his hair. He looked over to me with a glare and his tongue out. I laughed fully, the situation and everything, as well as some sleep deprivation, catching up on me. I threw my head back, clutched my stomach, and rolled around for what felt like hours. Once I had started I couldn’t stop.

“I didn’t think it was that funny,” George whispered to Fred. “Maybe we have finally broken her?”

“Maybe…” Was all Fred was able to say back, too caught up with the beautiful girl in front of her to even fully process George's words.

Finally calming down due to the sharp pain building up in my stomach from laughing so hard, I painfully pushed myself to sit up straight. Leaning on the couch behind me I tried to catch my breath while gripping my stomach. I could feel my face was flushed, my hair was a mess but I couldn’t care. Although the pain that coursed through my body, I was still smiling, looking at the two boys in front of me. Focusing on George I saw that he looked at me with a look of disbelief and amusement, rolling my eyes at him I focussed on Fred ready to be met with the same expression.

What I was met with nearly made me roll over again.

The way he looked at me made the rest of the world evaporate. I lost my breath. He smiled at me, but it wasn’t amused or disbelieving like George, he smiled at me with pure content, like watching me writhing around on the floor was the best use of his time. His eyes flickered with something, his usual gleam of mischief no longer evident but what was currently being held I couldn’t decipher. My whole face flushed even more if that was possible, I was praying in my head he didn’t notice it. I diverted my eyes from his gaze, trying to hide my red face as I adjusted into the position I held before I broke out in laughter.

“Maybe red?” I tried to steer the conversation back to its previous topic, my voice quivered, making me cringe and I hope that the boys didn’t notice or just wrote it off.

“If we make them red he will know a Gryffindor did it, that’s the equivalent of a murderer leaving a ransom note with his name on it.” George retorted. I sighed, relieved he didn’t say anything. Bringing my gaze up to meet theirs I looked between them, they were both staring at the floor, obviously lost in thought. I brought my gaze to the fire behind them. I pulled my lip in between my teeth trying to focus on a specific color that would make the blood drain from Snape’s face.

Snape was the head of the Slytherin house, and though that relation, I absolutely despised him. He was terribly rude to Gryffindors for no bloody reason, being that my friends mostly consisted of Gryffindors, he was terribly rude to me as well. He never took points away from me specifically, knowing it would reflect badly on him, but he took the absolute piss out of any Gryffindor around, often even subjected me to long detentions for minor offenses. I have to watch my step around him, even my breathing could set him off, send a nasty glare, or even grade my way. Being a Slytherin though, there was not much I could do about it except accept it, and that made my blood boil under the surface.

“Perhaps,” I started, my gaze was still trained on the dancing fire behind the boy. “Hot pink would suffice?”

Lifting my gaze from the fire I glanced between the two.

“Wicked.” They said in unison. They had these stupid grins on their faces that made me giggle.

The rest of the night was spent actually completing the plan, or trying to and getting distracted. The day before we leave for Christmas break we would sneak into his room, Fred and George would hide in the back of the room while I waited for Snape to arrive. I would ask him to help me find a book in the library about potion making because “I had really been struggling this past year in his class”. Total lie, I knew what I was doing Snape just hated to give me the grade I deserved.

Considering Mrs. Pince was on maternity leave he would have no option but to say yes. The boys would hex the cauldrons then run back to the Gryffindor common room where Harry and Ron were ready to provide an alibi. It flowed well, the potions section of the library was in the back and far up, Ron and Harry were more than happy to take the piss out of Snape, and Snape knew that because I was in his house I would never do anything directly against him for fear of being expelled.

Although I knew there would be no evidence for Snape to use against me I was still quite nervous but the thought of the shit eating grins it would provide the twins gave me enough courage to agree. They always made me happy, it was only fair I do the same for them.

Once it was mildly solidified in our brains we let the conversation drift, topics from quidditch to the worst animal to transfigure as filled up what should’ve been a quite common room at that hour, and never once did I feel bored.

The feeling of someone shaking my shoulders brought me back to reality. I opened my eyes to a rather bright and blurry mess of red around me, quickly shutting them again I groaned, swatting at my attacker. My lazy attempts fell short never actually hitting anyone.

“That was lame.” Hermione laughed.

I opened one eye to glare at her. “Considering I was blind I think they were ferocious.” I shot back.

She laughed again. “Well I don’t know how late you stayed up, but it’s quarter to 9. Breakfast ends at 10.”

“I have so much time, why must you hurt me ‘Mione?” I huffed running a hand down my face.

“Because Saturday is blueberry pancake day!” She said half singing. “Also I figured you would want to shower and get ready before we go to Hogsmede.” I groaned again but I knew she was right. I threw my hands over my face and rubbed my eyes before opening them, this time the brightness nor the redness of the room affected me.

“What would I do without you?” I asked sitting up. Now in a seated position I could see my surroundings. I was laying longways on the couch, a robe sprawled over me like a makeshift blanket. Hermione stood behind me, her hands rested on the armrest that my head was just against.

“Probably dead, due to these two.” I couldn’t see her but I knew she was talking about the twins. I turned my head around and smiled at her.

Squinting around the common room I could see George curled up in a loveseat by the fireplace, he sat sideways, his head against the back of the chair while his arms hugged one of his legs tightly to his chest, his other leg was thrown over the armrest. I giggled at the sight of him in such an unnatural position, it could not be comfortable with his long limbs. I searched the room for Fred. He wasn't in the other seats by the fireplace or the other couch pushed against the wall.

My heart plunged into my stomach at the thought that he went up to his dorm, I wasn’t completely sure why it hurt me so much. It made sense for him to have left, but part of me just felt pained at the fact that George stayed and not him. Of course I liked George but not in the way I liked Fred. George was like a brother to me, he was a best friend. Fred was something more than that, not that he knew, I would never admit it to him much less our friends, but that didn’t stop the longing I felt for him, hoping that he felt the same way too.

Finally I found him and all the doubts I had before were void upon seeing him. He laid on his stomach on the floor next to the couch. One arm under the pillow supporting his head that was facing me and the other thrown across the floor. He didn’t have a blanket on him and his robe wasn’t in sight. His hair was slightly brushed in his face and I had to refrain from leaning down and brushing it out of his eyes. I let out a small laugh realizing he was using the pillow that I threw at George the night before.

Turning around again to Hermione I spoke again. “You’re completely right.” She rolled her eyes with a smile before exiting the common room muttering something about the work she needed to do that day.

I stretched and readjusted, pulling my legs to my chest while figuring the best way to get up without disturbing Fred. I balled up the robe that was laid across me, still trying to figure out how to navigate my way out of the common room.

There was a small space near his arm on the floor, taking it as my best shot to then jump around him. I carefully placed my foot down, making sure not to step on him. Shifting my weight onto that foot I began to move my other leg to go around his back.

Slowly crouching to get some momentum I jumped, but before my foot could even leave the ground a strong arm grabbed my ankle. Taken by surprise I let out a small shriek before falling onto the couch and then sliding onto the floor.

I was met with Fred, smirking at me with half lidded eyes.

“Trying to sneak off with my robe are you?” He said smugly. His voice was deeper and raspier than it usually was and had an immediate effect on my body, my legs weakened and my face burned. I was thanking Merlin I was already sitting and flushed from the fall.

“What are you on about Weasley.” I whisper-yell at him.

He released my ankle, something I hadn’t even noticed he was still holding until I felt uncharacteristically cold where his touch had been only moments ago. He used his now free hand to point at the balled up robes in my arms.

“You did not just make me fall on my arse only to accuse me of stealing my robes!” I whisper yelled again, although a tad louder than last time.

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Your robes? I wasn’t aware we had joint custody over my clothing Y/L/N, but since you want them so bad I suppose you can keep them, red looks good on you by the way.” He shot me a wink at the end of his remark. His confidence and cockiness just upset me further. Although he was unnervingly annoying I couldn’t help the grin that split onto my face at his own stupidity.

I rolled my eyes and unbunched the robes to show him the green that adorned them, but once they were unrolled I saw the red fabric. My eyes shot wide open, I could feel my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“But…” I couldn’t even form a whole sentence, this didn’t make sense. “You hexxed my robes!” I shot at him. It was the only logical conclusion I had come up to that he had planned this.

The laugh he was holding back erupted from his mouth. His morning voice made it much deeper than his actual laugh. The rings of his laughter normally made my body hot but this was a whole new level.

He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand up to my collar and tugged. Looking down I saw that I was still wearing my robes. Never took them off.

I groaned and threw my face into my hands which only made him laugh harder. He peeled my hands away from my face and held them in his much larger ones. “I would never hex your clothes,” I could feel my face heat up at his words, the genuine tone and the lower octave of his voice sent shockwaves through my whole system. “At least not red, I’d make them purple!” He stuck his tongue out at me and I playfully swatted his shoulder. He knew that was my least favorite color.

I stood up and threw his robes at his face. “See you in the Great Hall.” And with that I grabbed my shoes and walked out as quickly as possible. I could hear him still laughing as I got to the portrait hole but kept going trying to calm down and get the flush off my face, both from our proximity and embarrassment.

I had thrown on my favorite muggle outfit. Going to Hogsmede was a tradition but the excitement was still there which qualified for a little dressing up. It wasn’t anything special, just plain light wash jeans, a white turtleneck and an oversized orange button up I managed to steal from the twins. All pulled together with a little accessorizing I thought I looked rather good.

Walking out of my dorm and into the Slytherin common room there was an evident pep in my step. I was happy but a fool wouldn’t be. Stepping towards the exit of the common room someone just had to ruin my fun.

“Not going out with the Weasels again are you Y/L/N?” Draco drawls. Turning I see him snickering with Crabbe and Goyle before standing and waltzing up to me, arrogant as ever.

“What is it to you Malfoy?” I spit at him. I was not going to let him ruin today.

“Well you got so pretty today, Weasleys do not know how to appreciate such expensive things, they can’t afford them, how would they know how to? You deserve someone who knows how and can express their appreciation in equally expensive ways.” He laughed out. He lifted his hand to caress my cheek. His touch made me cringe, his hands were cold and his demeanor was uninviting. Everything about him made me recoil.

I grabbed his wrist and threw his hand down. “I hope you don’t mean someone like yourself Malfoy. I’m not sure how you even know how to use a hand like that, it looks as though it hasn’t done a day of work in its life. Is that something you are really proud of?” I threw my words at him like daggers. Steam rolling off of me. I could see him change under my glare, his confidence shrank and his anger grew, his relaxed expression was soon replaced by his snarl he adorned everywhere Harry was near, his back stiffened and his fists balled up.

“Never, touch me again Malfoy.” I turned on my heel and stormed out. Before reaching the exit I thought of something though.

“Future advice,” I turned again so I was facing him. He hadn’t moved and still looked at me venomously as before. He lifted an eyebrow at my comment, urging me to go on. “Money can’t buy consent.”

His face darkened and I had to turn quickly to stop myself from all out laughing at him. I’m sure that if I stayed I could have watched him have his temper tantrum but frankly I wasn’t interested. My interest laid with the redhead waiting for me at the doors of the Great Hall. The same one who smiled at me as I walked up to him and poured my juice for me when we sat down. Fred Weasley had me totally, inconceivably, and utterly smitten, and I was completely ok with it. The harder I fell the sweeter it would feel when he caught me.

Or I hoped.

#fred and george #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #weasleys wizard wheezes #george weasley fluff #fred weasley fanfiction #the weasly twins #fred weasley fluff #fred wealsey fic #harry potter characters #harry potter fanfiction

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sneverussape · 3 years

Text

with friends like these

oneshot, 3300+ words. unbeta-ed because i really only wanted to write an angsty-ish brotp snucius (although technically this has minerva in it more than snape because um he’s already dead in this), and it turned out to be a character exploration type thing idek

summary: “Headmistress McGonagall, I am requesting that he be buried on my family estate.”

-- It was with newfound purpose that Lucius Malfoy found himself apparating just beyond the wards of Hogwarts, with full intent of storming the castle and not leaving without having his demands met. He stalked heavily towards the nearest entrance, cane forgotten, as he resolutely ignored the sight of the half-ruined structure that loomed at him over the craggy hilltop, the relic seemingly taunting him for his sins. Christ, Malfoy! The deep baritone that haunted his dreams and waking moments rose automatically to the forefront of his thoughts. What’s got your knickers in a twist? The sound of the heel of his boots ringing against the castle’s stone floors were loud enough to drown out the ghosts that resided in his head. It was also joined by the general cacophony taking place inside: classes were still taking place while renovations still went underway, and students, staff, as well as what seemed to be a significant percentage of Britain’s wizarding population were milling about the corridors, elbow-deep in activity. Several aurors that he recognized turned their heads as he walked past, but Lucius made no effort to acknowledge them. He came here for one purpose and one purpose alone, and by Merlin he was going to see it through no matter what it took. He regarded himself as fortunate when he saw the target of his ire just outside the Headmaster’s old office, conversing with Shacklebolt—Minister Shacklebolt, the voice in his head tutted—and with a confidence that he hadn’t felt in many months, he managed to incline his head at them in greeting as they turned towards him as he approached. “Minister,” he greeted Shacklebolt, before turning to Minerva McGonagall, who looked at him as though he were an insect that she wanted to scrape off the sole of her boot. Lucius deftly ignored the expression and instead gave her a curt nod. “Headmistress. May I have a word?” His tone brooked no request and he was sure both Shacklebolt and Minerva had noticed. The Minister looked at him impassively. “On what matters, Malfoy?” he asked, equally obstinate, and Lucius had to restrain himself in order to not sneer. “I believe anything to do with your contributions to the castle’s renovations as well as any reparations to the war victims has to go through me, not the headmistress.” “I’m afraid it’s personal, Minister.” Lucius’ jaw hurt as he forced a smile. “It’s on the topic of…family.” Family! The bark of a laugh that resounded in his head made him startle. You’re having me on! Lucius nearly growled at his lapse of control. Both Shacklebolt and Minerva were now staring at him with a critical expression, quite likely debating about the possibility of him being unsound. “Family, you say, Lord Malfoy?” Minerva echoed, and although the witch looked like she had aged a century in the handful of months that had passed since the Dark L—Voldemort had been defeated, her voice still held an undercurrent of steel, sharpened to a point like a goblin-made blade. She knew, he sensed, that what he was going to ask from her was no trivial matter. “Minerva—” Shacklebolt started protesting, but Lucius beat him to the quick. “You may keep my wand for the duration of my meeting the Headmistress, Minister, if it suits.” He unsheathed his wand, brand new and unfamiliar, and offered it to Shacklebolt, who looked at him as though he had just offered himself up to a Dementor’s Kiss. Lucius of course understood the reaction, but it also only confirmed to him how little people thought of him, and the lengths he would go to obtain what he wanted. Pitiable fools. He goaded a bit more: “You may also inspect my person to ensure I do not carry additional weapons or wands. Perhaps a little Veritaserum afterwards—” “Enough.” Shacklebolt held up his hand then took Lucius’ wand with the other, gripping it with more force than necessary. His face had darkened at the mention of Veritaserum, which was a little-known sore point between Shacklebolt and his many heavy-handed aurors, and Lucius would have known of course, from personal experience. “We’ve little time for theatrics, Malfoy, so I would be grateful if you started and concluded this matter of yours with Minerva as quickly as possible.” Lucius nodded. “Of course, Minister,” he said, before turning to meet Minerva with a purposeful stare. She inclined her head and led the way towards the staircase, muttering a password too low for him to catch. The stairs appeared with a low grinding sound that made Lucius clench his jaw. She gestured at him wordlessly to follow. “Now,” Minerva said before they were barely within the confines of the Headmistress’ office, “Lucius Malfoy, I don’t know what game you’re playing at but I’m of the opinion that this is not about your son—” “It’s Severus.” His name tasted bitter and thick on his tongue, like blood, and Lucius’ anger that had awakened since the precise moment that morning when he had read the Prophet started to once more smolder as soon as he was face-to-face with the damnable witch. He released a pent-up breath through his nostrils as he stated the next few words: “Headmistress McGonagall, I am requesting that he be buried on my family estate.” Minerva had already gone pale at the mention of his name, but the succeeding statement leached out all the remaining color in her face. He doubted he could have elicited the same reaction even if he had held her at wandpoint, and the sight gave Lucius the familiar stirrings of satisfaction. The Headmistress, however, was able to recover swiftly, her composure returning as though it was as simple as shedding a cloak. “Professor Snape,” she began, and it was with much annoyance for Lucius to realize that her voice did not so much as shake, when his own felt like caving in whenever he even attempted to say his name, “had explicitly stated—” “That is a lie!” The thin veneer of Lucius patience cracked, and he could feel as his anger grew, enough to stoke his magic enough that it threatened to spill over despite the lack of a wand. The various glass ornaments on the shelves surrounding them trembled, the glass and metal tinkling softly in the still air. Careful, Malfoy, the soft voice now taunted, testing his limits. Careful… Lucius tried again. He would not lose control. Not for this. “Headmistress. With all due respect, I believe Severus would have more likely requested he be incinerated on the spot than be buried on Hogwarts grounds.” Minerva looked as though she wanted to hex him. “To be buried here on the grounds was a mutual decision made by the Minister and the rest of the staff, as he was the headmaster at the time of his death. He was also laid to rest beside Albus Dumbledore, who was his friend—” “I was his friend!” he thundered. The word made Lucius’ stomach turn, enough to make him want to be violently ill. His temper, carefully hidden away after so many months of questioning, of trials, of him burying his pride and family honor, all for the sake of his family’s survival, came rushing forth. He was seething, enraged at Minerva’s presumptuousness, at her utter damnable gall. “Albus Dumbledore only noticed him after he proved himself useful, but before that had seen nothing but barely a wisp of a boy. He was such a little savage that you would not care to look twice at him. But he was my…” He couldn’t bear saying the word again; it seemed to barely capture what they had had and what they had been through, and so he let the choked pause speak for itself. “I’d known him since he was eleven. I was his prefect…for Merlin’s sake, I tutored him! Think what you want of me, Minerva, but Severus….” He cleared his throat but found he was unable to say any more; his lips were trembling, and he clamped them together in a fit of desperation. Had he brought his cane he would have been gripping it by now. As it was, he had to resort to clenching his hands into fists behind his back. Across from where he stood, the Headmistress surveyed him with an odd expression, as though she was debating on the merits of having him summoned by St. Mungo’s for a thorough examination. “We should have been consulted…Merlin, we should have been told!” Lucius concluded bitterly, not able to find it in himself to accept that no one had deigned to tell them of the memorial service that had taken place before the term had even started, and he had been left to find out through the thrice-damned Prophet a month after it had already occurred. He was insulted beyond all rational thought. “I will not leave until you grant me this request.” He would not beg. No, he would demand it. It was the least he could do, for Severus’ pride and dignity as much as his own. “I was not aware you and Severus had had any sort of…friendship.” Minerva told him, her tone flat. “He was not very forthcoming regarding such information, and had we known…” Lucius almost laughed. He would not be swayed by such platitudes, especially coming from a Gryffindor witch, no matter that she had, once upon a time, been a close colleague to his own father. “You would not have cared to inform us, at any rate, and Slytherins have long kept our circles intimate so any news of our friendship would not have been spoken about outside of it,” he said coolly. “However, as it stands, Professor Snape was…very dear to Narcissa and Draco and myself, and I would rather he be…laid to rest…where he would be safe, rather than have his grave be vandalized by hooligans—” Minerva gave him a pointed look. “And I suppose the Malfoy estate where Voldemort had resided for months would be a haven for him?” The voice in his head cackled, a rich carefree sound that Lucius had not heard in decades. “The Dark—Voldemort did not have full use of the grounds,” he found himself retorting, his face suddenly hot at having been so easily outwitted, and the fact that Minerva did not even flinch at saying his former master’s name. Damn it all to Hades. “Severus can be laid to rest in Narcissa’s garden, near the greenhouse where he planted his potions ingredients to his heart’s content.” This bit of information seemed to interest the Headmistress. “Severus had…what? He planted potions ingredients on Malfoy grounds?” “He had control of an entire greenhouse.” Lucius could not help keeping the haughty tone from his voice, her curiosity having given him an opportunity to gain leverage over the conversation. If he had to prove his claim over Severus, then so be it. “It’s been overrun by his vegetation since before Draco was barely a twinkle in his mother’s eye. No one but him was allowed inside. One of the bedrooms in the Manor is also his. He used to spend the summer holidays there, and on occasion, the Yule holidays as well. He used to play Quidditch with Narcissa on the pitch, then eventually it was the three of them with Draco. That little whelp had read nearly the entire Malfoy library. For Merlin’s sake, he has a personal house elf at the Manor—” Had. The voice was quiet now. Not that I never appreciated it, Malfoy, but then you were always a showy git… Lucius blinked rapidly as his eyes burned. He suspected dust…the entire office must not have been cleaned in months. He was surprised that when he next glanced at Minerva, her expression had changed completely. It had closed off, as though she was attempting very hard to not let her true feelings come to the surface. “If you need proof, I would be willing to…share my memories,” Lucius offered as a final attempt, although it rankled him to do so. He had had enough aurors and members of the Wizengamot poking around in his mind and memories to last five lifetimes, but it was a small price to pay in exchange for what he was asking for. “That would not be necessary,” the Headmistress said curtly. “Inasmuch as we have never really seen eye to eye, Lord Malfoy, I would be glad to take you at your word, especially when it comes to a man whom we both had seen as a friend. After all, you have absolutely nothing to gain from this unexpected demand, except perhaps the assuaging of your apparent guilt.” Her words made him feel as though she had physically struck him, and his ire increased tenfold. Once more, the shelves surrounding them tinkled and trembled. “We did not bury him here, however.” The shuddering that had been starting to build up in the room ceased and the room plunged into a filled silence. “What?” Lucius croaked. He wondered if he had gotten it all wrong then. Perhaps Severus was alive…? He would not put it past the whelp to figure out some way to cheat death… “He is very much gone, Lord Mal—Lucius.” Minerva’s tone had changed, and Lucius realized that he had spoken aloud. His face colored at the realization. “I am quite aware!” he snapped, although he could not deny the horrible emptiness that came with the snuffing out of that latest hope. Severus was gone. He had seen the body for all of twenty seconds before the aurors had taken him away. Since that moment, he had barely slept and had taken to eating only a necessary amount to not collapse during the long hours of questioning he had had to endure. It had almost been automatic, the steps to ensure his and his family’s survival, but it did nothing to quell the voice in his head. That was, until he’d seen the headline stating SEVERUS SNAPE GIVEN HERO’S BURIAL that morning, which he’d promptly reduced to ashes into his half-empty teacup. Hogwarts did not deserve Severus. Albus Dumbledore certainly had not. Severus had owed them nothing but had given them everything, had gone out of his way to put himself in the line of fire even when Lucius had told him repeatedly to be a face in the crowd, you must protect yourself first and foremost and the insufferable boy had gone and done the exact opposite. “Do you regret it?” Minerva asked him, and Lucius knew that if he had had his wand the witch would have wished she had never opened her accursed mouth. Just what more did these people want from him? He had told the Ministry, the aurors, even the Potter boy everything! He had contributed considerable sums for war repairs and reparations. He had given them names of other Death Eaters, none of whom he had particularly cared for anyway, and if they had been imbecilic enough to get caught and deny all of their known involvement, then that would hardly be on his conscience. He cared for little and for few. You sad bastard. The voice sounded amused. All that money and nothing to show for it, apart from a small family made from glass and a filthy half-blood brat with a filthy mouth… “I have never felt a loss this deep,” Lucius replied with much difficulty, which was the most he would allow. His pride may have been shattered, but he would not admit any of his true feelings in detail, especially not to the Gryffindor Head of House. A former version of himself would have gone apoplectic with rage had he known this would have taken place at any point in the distant future, but now…so many had been lost, Severus included, and the blood on his hands stained everything he touched. The Headmistress regarded him for a long moment, as though deciding on what to say next. “We did not bury him here,” she finally stated, and this time her voice was tight. “I regarded Severus as a friend, and occasionally we would have private conversations about…matters. In a rare moment of vulnerability, he had once expressed to me his wishes…should he not see the end of the war.” Lucius felt all at once enraged and betrayed. “And?” he asked, attempting to put on a mask of indifference, although he couldn’t help his lips from curling in distaste. He needed to know what they had done. Had they thrown him into the sea? Had they given him an unmarked grave somewhere in the Hebrides? “We did not bury him at all.” Minerva said, looking all at once despairing and yet triumphant. Her eyes glistened, pinning Lucius where he stood. “He had wished not to, because he was afraid…of people desecrating his grave, or not letting him rest. He stated that he wanted to be burned, for practicality’s sake.” This time Lucius laughed. Trust the little bastard to have proven one of his rare jokes right! “You cast Incendio on him then?” he asked, his tone sharper than expected. He felt ill and hollow. “That must have been a laugh since he had never been liked by your crowd…” Minerva looked at him heatedly. “We performed the Liberi ritual, of course. Two weeks after the battle, but we had told no one else. The staff had attended. The Minister and Mr. Potter had also been there, of course, but if I had known…” Something that looked like regret flashed in her eyes. “Forgive me, Lucius. I would have had you there, had I known. I would have ensured it.” “Liberi…” Lucius’ knees felt weak and as if all the air had been knocked out of his lungs. It was what they had done as well for his father, and what he would have done for Severus himself, had he been granted the opportunity. “You built a pyre? You followed the preparation rituals? Did you cast it properly?” “Horace was the only pureblood in attendance and ensured we did everything correctly. Hagrid built the pyre. I prepared the body myself. It helped we were all feeling no small amount of guilt for…everything.” Minerva said, and Lucius was momentarily curious but allowed her her privacy. They all had their ghosts. He knew about that most of all. “But the burial…?” he asked, although he already knew the answer. “It was a ruse.” “Yes. And we decided that we also still needed a physical memorial at any rate, but that the safest place would be on Hogwarts grounds. There is a frightening amount of wards on both the graves, especially after Voldemort saw to desecrating one himself.” This time, the name barely registered. Lucius gave a definitive nod. “I apologise I would not be able to acquiesce to your request, Lord Malfoy.” Minerva reverted to formality, signaling their conversation to be at an end. No matter. He had gotten what he had come for. He had gotten more than what he could have asked for. He gave the Headmistress a small formal bow. “You have my gratitude.” Minerva seemed to stiffen. “He was my dear friend as he was yours. I am…deeply sorry for your loss.” Lucius pondered for a moment if he should return the sentiment, for he knew the Headmistress had lost dozens of others apart from Severus, but he decided he could not bring himself to care. He nodded again and Minerva accepted, leading him back towards the door out of the offices. If you were still considering a plot for my grave at the estate, I would prefer it to be in the greenhouse rather than out of it. It should be great fun for you and Cissa, entangling the wards. I can’t assure your ridiculous hair will be safe from it, however... For the first time in many months, Lucius found it in him to smirk in amusement as the voice rambled on.

#basically a snapshot of lucius being sad but trying very hard not to show it #he's a bit ooc but i chalk that up to grief #and because the ministry has been on his ass #lmaooo #sorry #grief #guilt #lucius trying to do right by severus #he's also a bit possessive ngl #brotp #snucius #snape #lucius malfoy #oneshot #fic #my fic #hp

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beaubokuto · 3 years

Text

━ iii. what you broke

pairing: tobio kageyama x f!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, royal!au, angst

summary: prince tobio kageyama is cruel. he was known to be vindictive, revengeful, other synonyms for anger’s embodiment. you were not quite as interesting: a simple village girl with a knack for stealing things and a wish to kill the prince.

a/n: criticism is always appreciated <3 this one was fun to write

tags: angst, royalty, swearing, medieval, fantasy, enemies to lovers, all characters are aged up, minor depictions of violence (dueling, sparring, no major bloodshed)

glossary

previous chapter ━ next chapter

“I would have the opportunity to duel the prince?” You asked. You felt eagerness creep into your skin. It was your dream for years.

“You would be best not to sound that excited.” The flame boy said with a smile. “He would be king by then, but yes. You would have the opportunity to duel him, if you wished to do so. I am coming to you directly with an offer. Accompany me to the castle tonight in preparation.”

“I have the money.” You reached for your bag. “I planned to speak with General Shimizu today.”

“No need.” He waved you off. “Keep the money. You can find an excellent sword with... what is that? A moonful?” You wished you could wipe the look off of his face. “As I said, I came to you directly. Allow me to introduce myself.”

The orange haired boy stood and bowed only slightly with his his chin, hair creating a halo of light around his head. He was much shorter than you remembered, perhaps it was because your attention was focused on the prince. You mentally reminded yourself to be aware of your surroundings.

“I am Shoyo Hinata, son of the Flame and best mate of crowned prince Tobio Kageyama.” He recited. When he brought his burnt orange eyes to yours, he seemed to glitter. “And I am appointing you a training knight, if you wish to accept.”

“Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why?” You did not bow. You did not move. Your eyes flickered to the general’s, who still sat at the table. “Why are you appointing me directly? What is the trick?”

“There is no trick, only treats.” Hinata joked. “You have peaked my interest. I believe that you peaked the prince’s interest as well.”

He brought his hand forward to allow a flame to dance around his fingers. It was a small fire ball that circled his palm and twirled through each digit as if it were a real person.

“Besides, I think it would be fun, would it not?”

You agreed. How could you not?

Hinata gave you an explanation as to how everything would work, and you listened. It was a simple process: you would live with other training knights in a wing of the castle, you would spar and train and prepare for the duels at the end of each week with them and some of the actual knights, and you would either proceed or you would fail.

Not everyone would become a knight, even if they paid their dues. You were determined to become one. You were brilliant with a sword, even the daughter of the general thought as such.

You had to think of a plan. You had weeks until your duel with the prince.

And you decided that your duel with him would finally be his end.

“I cannot believe you are leaving me here to dwell by myself.” Kiyoko complained as you readied yourself.

“You have plenty of other friends.”

“None that will spar with me.” She sighed. You gave her a look, and she shrugged. “None that are a good duel, rather.”

“Speaking of other friends.” You pulled the parcel out of your cloak. “This is from Tanaka.”

“If it is from him, I do not want it.” Kiyoko waved it off as if it were a bug flying too close to her face.

“He claims it to be an apology.”

With that, Kiyoko lifted a brow. She reached from her sitting position on the edge of her bed. Her bed was rather soft, so she had to physically move up to reach you. You wondered what that was like, to sleep on something that squishy. Perhaps you would know soon.

You handed her the gift.

Her nimble fingers untied the knot and tore the paper off, revealing a white box with a note.

She read the note in silence and proceeded to open the gift, revealing a beautiful necklace made of blue and silver. You couldn’t tell exactly what it was made of, but you knew it was as beautiful as she was.

“Wow.” You sighed before you could hold yourself back. “That’s gorgeous.”

“He thinks he can simply purchase his way through an apology.” Kiyoko tossed the necklace back into the box. You almost reached out to make sure it was all right. “He is mistaken.”

“Kiyoko...”

“If you are to tell me to accept the gift and a note claiming what I already know, you are a fool.” She turned to you. “Now, let us get you ready to leave. You cannot wear the same thing every day in the castle as you do here.”

Shoyo Hinata waited for you.

You had only your clothes, a small bag of clothes that Kiyoko gave you (easy to move in and comfortable sleepwear, she told you), your sword at your hip, and your pouch of coins.

General Shimizu nodded goodbye as you headed for the door. You turned to thank him for his kindness, to which he said “I cannot wait to work alongside you weeks from now.”

It made you grin.

Hinata attached your bag to the side of his horse, aware of how you watched his movements with intensity.

“I am not here to kill you. I would have done it by now.” Hinata told you. He still stared at the task at hand. You looked at the back of his head, his hair looking like hair rather than fire.

“You watch as I disrespect the prince only to appear at my best friend’s house to offer me an amazing opportunity.” You crossed your arms. “There is a saying about things being too good to be true.”

“You know, you should work on your trust issues.” He said as he hopped onto the horse. “It will make your life so much easier.”

His informality made you blink in confusion. You barely ever heard someone talk without honorifics, even Kiyoko talked to you in formalities most of the time. You thought it was simply because she was a bit older than you, but hearing someone the same age as you speak with the tongue of friendship was strange.

“What?” Hinata looked down at you. “Are you coming on or what?”

“You speak as if we are friends.” You finally said. You climbed onto the horse to sit behind him.

“Oh right, sorry!” He giggled and sent you a smile. “I forget sometimes that we are supposed to talk formally. Which do you prefer: commoner, my lady, knight?”

“Why is my name not an option?”

“Because isn’t calling you by your name a bit informal, my lady?” He looked over his shoulder one last time before giving the horse a nice pat on it’s head, making it move towards the castle.

“I want you to repeat yourself.” Tobio Kageyama sighed with a pinched brow.

“She’s in the training quarters now.” Shoyo Hinata said without missing a beat. He stood in front of his best friend with a huge grin and fire in his eyes. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

“You witness this girl have blatant disrespect for me and for the crown, yet you bring her to my home with an offer of free training and living.”

“That is exactly what I did, yes.”

Kageyama sighed once more, attempting to push back the anger that resonated in his chest.

“You should see her with a sword, Tobio.” Hinata continued once he realized just how angry he was. “Watch her first duel in three days time. I promise you, it will not be in vain.”

“And how do you know of this talent?”

“I watched her and Sir Shimizu’s daughter practice together.” Hinata said. “I talked to the General himself, and he claims that she is excellent and had been saving up for years. She will be great, I promise you.”

“And her duel with me?”

“You may want to practice a bit harder. No offense.”

The Knights Quarters sat in the left wing of the castle. The darkness of the castle only seemed to get darker as you made your way through the hallways, mentally noting where you had been.

There were four rooms for the men training, all full with at least ten beds. There were only two rooms for the women. As it turns out, you were only one of three females who were training.

The rooms were dark, only two lights along the ceiling and small windows. The beds were spread along both walls, totaling to ten. Each bed had a hanging piece underneath for storage and a dark wooden bedside table.

One of the girls seemed to had been training for a while, sprawled out in her claimed bed. She had short brown hair and piercing light brown eyes. She had a scar along her shoulder that you took notice of. The other had long light brown hair tied into a plait, freckled skin, and blue eyes that gleamed at the sight of you.

“Welcome to Knight Training!” The blue eyed girl greeted with a smile. “I am Yua Ito, daughter of the Hunter. This is Akari Yamamoto, daughter of Sir Yamamoto.”

“Hello.” You placed your bag on an empty bed. You introduced yourself, adding, “Daughter of a merchant.”

“I heard Shoyo Hinata offered you this position directly.” Akari spoke up. She lifted her head only slightly from the pillow. “You must be good with your weapon.”

“I plan to get better.”

Akari smiled, though it felt melicious. “How ambitious. Cannot wait to see you in action, chosen one.”

Yua smacked her thigh, but Akari only rolled her eyes and closed them again. Yua turned to you, smile back onto her face.

“Do not pay attention to her attitude.” Yua waved it off as if it were an annoying fly. “She’s naturally like that.”

Before you could reply, the door to the room opened.

Your name was announced by the man at the door. He was of a large build, with thick armor and you could count at least four knives in plain sight. He must be a soldier, or a body guard of sorts.

You hadn’t even sat down yet.

“I am she.” You said, with as much formality as you could.

“Your presence is requested by the prince.”

masterlist

tag list: @immxnty @elegantlykpop @thechaosoflonging @starryparkrr @cosmotoic

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teamhook · 3 years

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Emma and Killian :: Kate and Leopold CS AU for CSMM

Hello lovelies!! So I’m on a schedule and you will be getting updates for my fics. 3 per Month ;)

I want to thank @captainswanmoviemarathon and the wonderful CSMM Discord Family. My co-writer @revanmeetra87

I want to also thank @ultraluckycatnd for Beta-ing thiis thing for us.

|FFN|

|AO3|

Friday and The Weekend

Killian and David shared a guilty look. They had both behaved like children. Killian knew he had more than the other, in part due to his inebriety and the other part was jealousy of what he didn't know. Killian said goodnight to his mate and went home to ponder on his actions.

He decided he would try his best to make amends to her. So he did what he did best, put his thoughts on paper, and hoped that it would grant him redemption.

The next day, Emma woke up and got ready fast. She had to get to work and somehow fix the mess her brother and that jerk that couldn't keep his mouth shut had made.

David greeted her in the kitchen with a cup of coffee ready for her which she promptly snubbed and rushed out.

David had arranged for Emma to find the letter that Killian had dropped off earlier, but she was eager to leave the apartment. He knew they both had misbehaved and his sister was in her right to be angry at them.

He grabbed both the letter and the first fruit in the basket he could and dashed after her.

Emma had reached the street and was just about to hail a cab when she heard David's voice. "Ems! Emma, wait!"

She halted because she loved her idiot brother, and it's them against the world.

She turned to face him with her best 'you're in trouble' face.

"Before you say anything, I'm sorry. I know I fucked things up for us. I know that everything you do is for us to have a better life."

Emma stared her brother down. "I have to go clean up the mess you two made."

"Emma, I know and for whatever it's worth, I'm sorry. Here, you can't go to work on an empty stomach," David said as he handed her a papaya. "Yeah, I know that," Emma says as she looks to the street for a cab. That's when he slipped the letter into her bag. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

Emma arrived at work, waiting for the fallout of the previous night, but it never came. She was told there's a meeting with marketing, and she was the last one to arrive. She rushed into the conference room and took a seat so they could finally begin. The marketing team was going over the troubles they had come across due to the texture of the margarine. Emma peeked at her boss to see if looked angry or like the usual. She really doesn't see a change in him, but they have yet to talk. She sighed and opened her bag to pull out some papers. An envelope caught her eye and she quietly opened it.

Dearest Emma...

I behaved as an imbecile last night, animated in part by drink, in part by your beauty, and in part by my own foolish pride and for that, I am profoundly sorry. Please accept, as a gesture of apology for my bad form, a private dinner on the rooftop tonight at 8 O'Clock.

Yours truly, Killian

Emma felt her cheeks blush as her thoughts were interrupted by her boss.

"Emma, dear, where are we on Farmer's Bounty?" Mr. Oz asked.

Emma turned to her boss and took a deep breath. "We are good. As you know, we found our spokesperson. The response room final showed a 98 in the top two boxes. His key female descriptors were handsome, romantic, and with some write-ins of "What a babe".

Mr. Oz sullenly replied with a simple, "Great."

As they ended the meeting and everyone went back to work, Mary Margaret was waiting for her. Emma handed her assistant her bag and rushed after Walsh to say her apologies.

"Mr. Oz, I mean Walsh, I just want to apologize for what happened last night," Emma said.

"I appreciate that," he simply said.

"So are we okay?" she asks, hopeful.

"Yes, we are. Now if you would excuse me, I have to make some calls. We will talk later," Walsh said as he walked to his office.

Meanwhile, Jefferson was losing his patience at the Hospital. He just wanted to get released so he could get home and get Killian back to his time. Out of pure desperation, he thought explaining the situation to his doctor would be enough, but Dr. Hyde wasn't as receptive as he had hoped.

"I didn't jump to my death. I fell because there was no elevator," Jefferson clarified.

Dr. Hyde nodded. "And you feel it's somehow your fault?"

"Well, it stands to reason that nature would correct itself since my great-great-grandfather isn't there to invent the elevator or spawn his seed," Jefferson added matter of factly.

"Both you and the elevator would cease to exist, but clearly do," the doctor said.

Jefferson shook his head. "I can see you are a very busy man and I hate to take up your valuable time. I'm not one of those people who need your attention. Would you please just sign my release papers?"

Dr. Hyde sighed. "I'm concerned you might be a danger to yourself. State law requires that I keep you here in such cases. I'm afraid I cannot in good conscience sign your release."

Jefferson tried to open the door while balancing on crutches.

Before he could open it, the door flew open. "Dr. Hyde, is there a problem?" a lovely woman asked.

"No Priscilla, everything is fine. Could you please assist Jefferson back to his room and ensure this prescription is filled?" Dr. Hyde said to his nurse.

"Jefferson, I'm going to prescribe a mild antipsychotic. Nothing too strong."

Wandering around in circles in Game of Thorns, David looked over his notes, nerves getting worse with each lap.

"Mary Margaret, did you want - no, Mary Margaret, would you like...uggh…"

He was never going to convince her to go on a date if he tried mumbling and bumbling through his invitation. He was already humiliated, and he wasn't even asking her yet!

Outside of the flower shop, he could see Killian handing a street musician some cash as he made a request. Just what the request was, David couldn't quite hear.

Well, he had enough of his own problems to deal with, in any case.

Killian then entered the shop, and David practically pounced on him. "Listen, Killian, about the things you wrote for me here, for Mary Margaret...Some if it seems kind of…"

"Did you pick your flowers?" Killian asked, looking at him expectantly.

"Oh. Yep. Right, uhhh...here," David said, grabbing the nearest arrangement. "Now, about this speech-"

"Oh no, this will not do," Killian said, concerned.

"What, the flowers?" David looked at them for the first time. They seemed pretty enough to him. Plenty of colors. They even smelled nice.

"The orange lily suggests extreme hatred. The begonia and lavender danger and suspicion, respectively. Every flower has a meaning." Glancing around him, Killian grasped an enormous (and to David, absurd-looking) flower and held it in front of David. "Might I suggest the amaryllis, which declares the recipient a most splendid beauty. Or-" Breaking off, Killian strode forward. "- the cabbage rose…"

Sighing, hoping Killian was right about all this, David followed.

Inside her office, Emma lifted a piece of paper that was accepting Killian's invitation.

The only problem?

She hadn't written it.

Grinding her teeth, trying to pretend she was angry at her assistant and not at the fact that she did want to accept Killian's offer, Emma called for Mary Margaret.

Almost immediately, Mary Margaret poked her head in the office. "Yes?"

"What is this?" asked Emma, waving the paper in the air.

"It's your agreement to having dinner with Killian," she responded, as though there was nothing unusual about it. "I made it up for you to sign."

"I hadn't decided if I was going!" Emma cried, slapping the letter on her desk. She knew she was overreacting, but the thought of a private dinner with Killian was making her so...so stupidly nervous.

Mary Margaret lifted her chin, and a bit of fire entered her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said in the strongest voice Emma had ever heard from her. "But that is the best apology in the history of mankind, and if you don't go with him, I know you will regret it! Please, just sign it, and we can fax it to him. There is still time."

Taken aback by her usually shy assistant's firm manner, Emma closed her eyes, bit her lip, and grabbed for her pen.

Inside Jefferson's apartment, Killian was cooking the meal for his dinner with Emma. To his relief and delight, he had received the fax confirming her presence.

Taking his eyes from the stove, while still being attentive to his work, Killian watched as David paced the room nervously with the telephone to his ear.

Suddenly, with a little start, David said, "Oh, hi Mary Margaret; it's me, David. I was calling to see if you got my flowers. I mean your flowers. I mean the ones I sent?" He paused for a breath, then said "Good!" to the reply. He then looked to Killian, voice stalling.

Killian gave him a smile and a nod. "You can do this, my friend."

Pressing onward, David continued. "I was wondering if you would like to go to a movie, and then...perhaps accompany me to dinner?" Waving his free hand, he rushed on, "I-I-I-I understand completely if you are otherwise engaged. But, uh, I just wanted to say, umm…" Stopping to consult his notes, a small furrow appeared in David's brow.

"Come on. No need to be ashamed. You can do the speech as written," Killian encouraged silently.

"I wanted to say you've made an impression on me. And...and it's not only because you are so pretty. I mean, you're very pretty, but it's more than that. It's, umm...You're graceful. You know, the way you move, and speak. You just have a way with words. And I really, really like you."

There was a very long pause, during which David looked terrified. Then, responding to what Mary Margaret had said, he mumbled, "Seven? Yes! Yes, seven would be great. Would be fantastic. See you then!"

He ended the call, then jumped straight up in the air victoriously. "I did it! I am going out with Mary Margaret!"

Killian chuckled as David did a small dance.

"I gotta go get ready!" David exclaimed.

Emma arrived home and she would deny it to anyone, but she was a little excited about the dinner date with Killian. She was about to go to her room to get ready when her brother came out of his room looking very handsome. He had a silly grin on his face that she had not seen in a while.

David smiled wide at his sister as he greeted her with a quick kiss on her cheek.

"You look very handsome David. I didn't know you were going out tonight."

"Yeah, I have plans. It was unplanned until earlier today."

"So is this a big date?" she asked.

"Yeah, Ems I really like this girl."

"Who is the lucky lady?"

"Uhm, if it goes well, I'll tell you tomorrow, but I just don't want to jinx it."

Emma nodded. "Okay, good luck, and for what it's worth, she is lucky to have your attention."

"Thanks, and I think you are supposed to say that cause you are my sister."

"Just stating facts, David. You don't give yourself enough credit. You are one of the good ones."

"Ems, so are you. Have fun tonight, okay?"

She smiled. "I will. Now go before you are late for the big date!"

Finally, in her room, she opened her closet. She ruffled through the hangers, trying to find the right outfit. Her eyes landed on a pale pink dress she purchased years ago, and it never felt right to wear until now.

The dress fit perfectly and it made her feel like a true princess. She put her hair in a high ponytail with very light makeup, just enough to heighten her looks. Why was she so nervous?

It was time to make her way up to the roof.

Emma opened the roof door slowly and was astonished at the display in front of her. There were fairy lights hanging, creating a magical environment, and a man was playing the violin. The table was set with candlelight, and she could see a wine bottle next to plates and the tray with the food. Her mouth opened at the effort Killian made to please her.

"This is beautiful! You didn't have to go to so much trouble," Emma said, biting her bottom lip.

"No trouble at all, lass," Killian confirmed as he met her to guide her to her seat.

"May I?" he asked as he grabbed the chair to pull it out for her.

She nodded, unable to speak. He looked handsome wearing his old-timey outfit. Perhaps the atmosphere he created made him appear as if he was the lead in a romantic novel.

Emma stared into the night for a moment. "My mom was a true romantic." She smiled fondly. "She cried for weeks after Prince Charles and Lady Di got married."

Killian furrowed his brows. "I'm not familiar with them."

"Oh, trust me, you wouldn't want to be. A cautionary tale, proof that you can't live a fairy tale," Emma said and added, "I'm not very good with men."

"Perhaps you haven't found the right one," he said hopefully.

"Maybe, True Love only exists in fairy tales."

"My brother told me I had become a blemish on the family name due to an indiscretion from my youth, and now he tries to marry me off every chance he gets. I would be married now if I hadn't followed Jefferson. I was to announce a bride that night."

"Who?"

He sighed. "I don't know, it didn't matter to him. I suppose the one with the most money. Our family fortune is gone, and all we have is the family name."

After they finished eating, Emma stood up to start cleaning.

"What are you doing?" Killian asked.

"Just cleaning up."

"The night is not over yet. Would you do me the honor of a dance? Please?" he asked as he extended his hand for her to take.

"I'm not a good dancer," she said as she took his hand.

"There's only one rule. Pick a partner who knows what he's doing." He winked, pulling her close to him as she rolled her eyes, and they started gliding.

"Smee always told me love is a leap. I was never ready to jump until I met you."

"Killian, this was lovely but I don't know if I can leap, even if I am inspired." The lightness she had felt while dancing with him was sinking into harsh reality. And she was afraid. "I'm not...not brave enough."

Then, in the next moment, he was quoting something to her, something beautiful and flowery and perfectly Killian, and she was kissing him, warmth spreading from her chest all the way to her toes.

The next morning, after a wonderful date with Mary Margaret, David woke to the sound of Killian cooking breakfast.

They exchanged hellos, each asking how the other's date went. According to Killian, his date had also gone well.

David was pleased, but something was nagging at him. Emma was so rarely happy these days. And it was great that Killian was helping her to take down her walls, but if things were to continue...well, he wanted to make sure Emma was with someone she could really trust.

"Look, Killian, I have to ask you…" David trailed off. "Who are you? I mean, really?"

Killian spread some jam on toast, seeming confused. "What do you mean?"

"It's been a lot of fun doing the duke act with you, but...Emma's been through a lot, and I don't want her to have to deal with even more."

Killian lifted his hand. "I understand, David."

"So...Who are you?"

With a deep breath, Killian said, "I am the man who loves your sister. Who would go to the end of the world, or time, for her."

And with that, David was reassured.

David showed Killian how to master the dishwasher after breakfast was made. Killian was still in awe of the technology of the time.

"Just make sure Emma sees you push the button. Whatever you do, don't press it until she is awake to see you do it."

"Oh, clever. The proverbial tree in the woods. If a man washes a dish and no one sees it...Did it happen?"

"Exactly!" David said, excitedly.

Emma then made her appearance. Her stomach growled at the delicious scent.

Killian's smile welcomed her. "Love, a cup of coffee?"

"Yes, thank you."

David watched the pair making eyes at each other and decided not to be a third wheel and made his escape. Perhaps he could call Mary Margaret to make more plans.

Killian got a plate ready for Emma as she took her seat.

"Nine-grain toast with strawberries and mascarpone, my lady."

"Yum, this is really good," she moaned as she took bite after bite.

He hadn't seen anything as beautiful in his life.

Emma took the last bite and turned to Killian with a smile. "What should we do today?"

"Your heart's desire," Killian simply answered.

Emma and Killian get dressed, independently of course. Killian Jones was always a gentleman, after all. They set out to explore the city together.

Killian stopped at a market table full of sunglasses.

Emma snorted. "Oh no, no, no, no, no, no," she said as she took the glasses away from him, scrunched her face, and put them back on their display.

Killian looked so sad as he faced her.

"Make that face all you want, but those glasses were so inappropriate for you."

He quirked an eyebrow and they resumed their walk.

Killian gasped. "Emma, love. Emma, come!" he said excitedly as he pulled her toward a house.

"Killian, what are you doing?" she hissed.

He had gotten them inside the house; it appeared to be a museum of sorts.

"Bloody hell! This is where I lived. Good Lord. A portrait of my parents, my brother... and me." He pulled her up the stairs.

Emma looked at the portrait and gulped as she passed it. She still tried to find logic and deny what he told her was true. "Killian, I don't think that we should just be barging around here like that."

Killian held her hand as he pulled her all over the house before he stopped and stood in front of one of the rooms. He faced her with a smile. "Emma, this is my old quarters," he said as he walked to his hidden spot.

Emma looked around frantically. "What are you doing?"

He put pressure on a spot, then they heard a crackling sound. "Emma, this is the place where I put everything I most cared for. Things I didn't want Liam to touch. Like our mother's ring." He showed her a beautiful ring that he somehow knew its hiding place, and she hated to think what that truly meant for them, so she ignored the nagging pull in her heart.

Emma smiled. "Oh, it's breathtaking."

Later that evening, Emma and Killian finally end up cuddled on the sofa together after their day exploring the city.

Emma had her hand on his chest, playing with the hair there. She felt so comfortable in his arms. She sighed. "Do you..."

"Hmm, What would like to know, love?" he asked as he gently caressed her back.

She sighed and shifted in his embrace to see his face. "Do you miss where you're from?"

"Ah, I suppose I do in a way. There are things I miss, such as its rhythm."

"Is that slower like today?"

"Aye, quite a bit slower." He smiled.

She groaned. "That means that tomorrow is Sunday. I don't want it to be Sunday. What I do want is more of this." She snuggled closer to him.

He laughed heartily.

"Ooh, Monday is when we shoot your commercial so that's something exciting." She hummed comfortably from her cozy little bubble.

Not long after that, she drifted into sleep.

Killian kissed the top of her head and took out his mother's ring. He knew she had fallen asleep and it was now a lost moment. He picked her up and took her to bed, and tucked her in affectionately.

Emma said sleepily, "You're tucking me in."

"Aye."

"Huh, you're my Smee."

"Yes, I am Your Grace."

"Hey, hey, you don't have to... don't go upstairs. Stay."

He nodded and got in bed behind her, spooning her. He whispered, "I love you, Emma," in her ear before drifting off to sleep himself.

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook @spacekrulesbians @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena88 @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch @hookedonhiddles @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @cocohook38 @zaharadessert

#Captain Swan #CSMM #CSMM20 #cs ff #Captain Swan Movie Marathon

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adorablele · 4 years

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road to your heart; l.jn

anon requested; could i request a jeno fluff blurb?🥺 it could be about anything you want!

↬ pairing; lee jeno x reader

↬ genre; fluff, a whole lotta fluff

↬ word count; 1.7k+

↬ summary; jeno is supposed to bring you lunch, but he’s a bit lost.

↬ a/n; this is my 500th post :) also the way i placed heart bothers me but I already did it and editing took so long (more like me just staring at jeno’s face for half the day before deciding that I couldn’t edit him in),, just like don’t look at it (perhaps one day I’ll fix it). anyways, happy reading <3

“Hello, this is-”

“I’m lost.”

You were silent for a moment. “But you can use google maps?”

“That’s not helpful.”

You made a face, “What-”

“Trust me, I tried,” he defended.

You stared at the stack of papers on your desk and the unfinished excel sheet on your computer. ‘It’s due by the end of the day’ your boss had warned, giving you a thick file. ‘Hey, you don’t mind doing this for me, right?’ your coworker shrugged, sliding more papers onto your desk. ‘I was wondering if you were finished with the sheet yet,’ the intern sheepishly asked. So many things to do and your husband with the worst sense of direction just had to get lost now?

“Where are you?” you murmured.

“I’m near the gym.”

“That’s very helpful,” you deadpanned.

“The one where we first met.”

You wanted some frozen yogurt. Was it the best idea? Maybe not. You sped up the treadmill, turning your gaze away from the empty cafe calling your name.

“Ignore the urge,” you told yourself, adding even more speed to the treadmill. However, you looked back at the blinking open sign, unaware of the way a certain pink haired boy who stared in your direction.

“Are they looking?” Jeno asked, swinging another right hook at the punching bag.

Jaemin, who held the bag, followed your line of sight. He didn’t think you were looking at Jeno. “uhm, yeah, they are,” Jaemin lied.

Jeno stopped and looked at you, “Really?” His eyes widened when he saw you walking towards him. He felt his heart speed up, nervousness crawling up his throat. “What do I say?” he panicked.

“Hey-” You didn’t pay him any mind, walking right past him as your hands tapped into your pocket for your rewards card.

Jaemin bursted out laughing as Jeno stood there in confusion and embarrassment. He then hit his friend on the shoulder, “You told me they were looking!”

“Yeah, they were looking,” Jaemin whined, rubbing the sore spot, “they were looking at the frozen yogurt sign.”

Jeno stared disdainfully at the pink haired boy. “You knew what I meant!”

Jaemin rolled his eyes, “Just go offer to buy them yogurt stupid!”

“Nana was quite a wingman,” you mused, remembering how the pink haired boy approached you, pulling a shy, sweaty Jeno from behind him.

“I guess I’m thankful for him,” your husband muttered.

You chuckled, “Make sure to turn right when you see that green building with those chandeliers that shine through the tinted windows.”

“Wait, didn’t we have our first date there?”

He pulled the seat out for you.

The two of you sat in silence. He didn’t know what to say and he wasn’t sure if he was flabbergasted from the prices of a single dish or just how stunning you looked in your outfit. He decided on the latter and let the compliment slip from his lips. You smiled appreciatively at him muttering a quiet, ‘thank you’ before hiding behind the menu.

You tried not to cry out about the prices displayed to your eyes. You would’ve been just fine going down to the cafe down the street. Your friend worked there and could surely give you a discount.

At the same time, the two of you placed down your menus.

“I was-”

“Do you-”

The both of you chuckled and said at the same time, “You go first.”

He gestured towards you, “Please, I insist.”

You shook your head, “I don’t mind.”

For a moment the two of you stared at each other, gazes locked and waiting for the other to break.

“Are you ready to order?” the waiter interrupted, standing by the table with a courteous smile.

“A few more minutes, please,” Jeno politely told him. With a nod, the waiter left. Once the guy was out of sight Jeno sighed, “I heard the cafe down the street is pretty good. What do you say we leave this place?”

“What was his name, Mark?” Jeno hummed, “his latte was pretty cool, and he gave it for free. Didn’t he also give us that cake half off?”

“Yeah, I’m sure our total was the price of one dish at that other place,” you snorted, voice getting a little louder.

“You make fun of that place, but I proposed to you there,” Jeno reminded.

You beamed at the ring on your finger, “I know. Everyone got a free meal that day because you fooled them into thinking that they mixed up the ring in the wrong plate of food.”

Jeno laughed, “I genuinely thought they did. Just turns out I never gave it to them.”

“You’re an idiot,” you smiled, rolling your eyes at the memory of the fretful faces of the restaurant staff.

“Your idiot, yes,” he cheekily grinned.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, although he couldn’t see you, “two miles down, you’ll make a left and you’ll pass by the furniture store.”

“I am suggesting things to buy but you keep shutting them down!” you pointed out, arms crossed over your chest.

“That’s because the things you want are not what we need!” Jeno retorted, posture mirroring yours.

“Everything that I have showed you was apart of the list we made-” you heaved out a heavy sigh, “you know what, whatever, we’ll just split this list in half and you get what you think is best and I’ll get what I think is best.”

You tore the sheet in half. “Deal,” he frowned, taking a piece from you, “meet back here in thirty minutes.”

You stomped away, analyzing all the items on your list. You angrily passed by the black nightstand that Jeno deemed would look good in your shared bedroom. You scoffed at the ugly cat vase that he disagreed was cute. You rolled your eyes at the silly sky painting he wanted to hang in the living room.

Somehow, thirty minutes later, you found yourself putting back all the items you thought were better than the ones that Jeno wanted. Each item was set back down in their respective places and you took the black nightstand, thinking that you could admire the way Jeno’s arms flexed as he builds the piece of furniture. You took the ugly cat vase and remembered that this would have to do until the two of you were ready to get your own cat. You took the sky painting, keeping in mind that if you were to allow him to get this, then he would have to agree on getting the pretty lake painting in aisle five.

You sat on the couch in your meeting spot, rehearsing how you’d apologize for disregarding everything he wanted simply because you had your own things in mind.

“You’re cuter, you know,” he softly smiled sitting next to you, “I can live without that cat vase.”

Your smile matched his, “The grey led mirror isn’t all that, I don’t mind using the bathroom.”

Jeno placed his hand on your knee, thumb rubbing soothing circles, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” you sighed, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “we can get the sky painting as long as we also get the lake painting.”

Jeno dangled it in front of you, “You got yourself a deal.”

“Our first argument in public,” he recalled.

“I can’t believe I fought with you because I didn’t like that cat vase.”

“Petty things, but that’s what makes us human, right?”

You leaned back in your chair, “I love you.”

“Thank you.”

You glared at the framed photo lying on your desk, his lips pressed against your cheek, arm secured around your waist. “I’m going to hang up.”

“That’s fine.”

You gawked, not bothering to make a sound before you ended the call. Not a second later did you remember that you didn’t give him the last set of instructions to your work. With a grumble, you reached back for your phone, stomach growling. You deserved an ‘I love you’ back and some food.

“Huh,” a voice muttered from behind you, “you really did hang up.”

You swiveled around, phone dropping from your hand. Jeno stood with a bag of food in one hand and his phone held up by the other. His eyes curved with his mouth as he stared at your shocked face.

He walked towards you, placing the food on your desk, “I called you when I was already in the parking lot.”

You squinted your eyes, “You mean to tell me that I could’ve started eating my lunch earlier?”

He rubbed the top of your head, “Yep.”

You slapped away his hand and opened up the bag. He pulled up a chair next to you and watched in amusement as you excitedly opened up the bag. Once again, his hand was slapped away when it tried to reach in and take some of your food. “No,” you frowned, turning your chair so the back was facing him “you don’t get any because you didn’t say I love you too.”

He chuckled at your childish actions and turned the chair to face him again. Jeno pulled your wheeled chair closer to him. You clutched onto the bag of food in your lap, hating how your heart still skipped a beat whenever he looked at you.

“I love you too,” he softly said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You felt your stomach flip. God, you’ll never get tired of hearing that. You lightly pushed his chest, “Whatever.” Jeno wanted to coo at how you failed to keep down your shy smile, but he bit his tongue, keeping silent as you turned back to your desk and unpacked the food.

“If you knew where to go, why did you call?” you asked, taking the fries out of the bag.

“I told you I was lost,” he shrugged, happily opening is mouth in hopes you’d feed him.

“Lost in my eyes?” you guessed. You offered a fry toward’s Jeno’s open mouth before quickly snatching it back when he moved forward to take a bite. With a wide smile, you ate it instead.

“Something like that,” he pouted.

You smiled cheekily and offered him another fry. “And google maps wouldn’t have helped?”

Jeno gratefully accepted the fry, chomping happily, “No, it would not.”

“And why is that?” you asked, placing a fry into your mouth.

Your husband took a napkin and wiped the corner of your mouth, “Because it doesn’t know the road to your heart.”

#nct-writers #hae.jeno #hae.req #lee jeno #jeno fluff #jeno soft hours #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno drabbles #jeno one shots #nct dream #nct dream soft hours #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles #perhaps i'll fix the header #one day

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foularcadebanana · 4 years

Text

Call Me Jiujiu

I've written the Day 13 & Day 14 prompts for the Untamed Fall Fest 2020 together since I knew this was going to be a big one. Day 13 Prompt-Fruit, Day 14 Prompt-Savor.

This fic got so long and this idea had been itching at the inside of my brain for way too long. I have been screaming internally about this one for like two days...so I'm going to go breathe in some fresh air now.

Summary: Where Jiang Cheng is so worried about Jin Ling that he unknowingly uncles all three of Jin Ling's friends, his own brother, and his brother-in-law/brother's fiancée.

READ ON AO3

Jiang Cheng sat in the throne room at Koi Tower, on Jin Ling’s right, with a stack of papers he had to look over for the discussion conference that was to take place a week later, and a paper bag with a few fruits and a cutting knife. He had been summoned to the room along with Jin Ling’s friends, which had meant that Wei Wuxian had inevitably followed under the pretense of not wanting to be left out, but secretly because he had wanted to help.

Wei Wuxian following the juniors had led to Hanguang-Jun trailing alongside his husband, fiancée or whatever they were, Jiang Cheng really couldn’t care less. What he cared about however, was Jin Ling. He had been working hard for the discussion conference that would be taking place in Koi Tower, and he was required to arrange a night hunt before that with the rest of juniors, which was why he had called them to the throne room as well.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t wondered why he himself had been called there. He would have broken Jin Ling’s legs if he hadn’t called him. This was A-Ling’s first discussion conference, and there was no way he was letting Jin Ling carry the load of arranging it all himself. Heavens only remembered what a disaster Jiang Cheng’s first discussion conference in Lotus Pier had been like, and he had still had a lot of help from the various sects close to Yunmeng.

He knew how Jin Ling got when he had a goal or an aim that he had to achieve. Jiang Cheng had watched with worry, how Jin Ling had aimed to be the best archer in all of their combined sects. He had strived to achieve that goal with hard work and lots and lots of practice, and Jiang Cheng had proudly watched him achieve the goal.

But Jin Ling had been so single-minded in successfully reaching his goal that he hadn’t eaten or slept, or at least he wouldn’t have, if Jiang Cheng hadn’t been there to feed him or remind him to rest or drag him away from archery practice. He had been there to bandage Jin Ling’s hands when they had almost bled from overworking himself at the training grounds.

Jin Ling had become more careful, however, when during one of his afternoon practices, he had fainted on the training grounds with the sun beating harshly above him. Jin Ling had woken up in the physician’s room with Jiang Cheng clutching his hand desperately and crying softly to himself.

He had apologised to Jiang Cheng and had promised to take better care of himself. Jiang Cheng knew he couldn’t blame the kid. He got his stubbornness and single-mindedness and every single other quality from Jiang Cheng after all. Every other quality, that is, except for the blatant lack of self-care and self-preservation. He blamed that one on Wei Wuxian. Never, even during the darkest of times, had Jiang Cheng ever neglected his hunger or sleep or hygiene.

The sheer thought of how his sect would be able to survive if he didn’t take care of himself had kept him going, and thoughts of young Jin Ling having one less uncle because said uncle had been dumb enough to not take care of himself, had driven him forward. Why Jin Ling couldn’t do the same…

But, as Jiang Cheng thought more about it, he realised that perhaps this was something Jin Ling had acquired from him too. He vaguely remembered times in the past when he had been so overwhelmed by his work and his duties that Jin Ling had often complained that Jiang Cheng wasn’t paying attention to him or that he looked tired, and then using one reason or another, he had pulled Jiang Cheng out of his room and into the fresh air.

Sometimes they would end up at the private docks and sometimes up on the roof. Sometimes they would walk outside and go to all of the food stalls Jin Ling randomly pointed at to try some new food. Jiang Cheng remembered one time when Jin Ling had been a child and Jiang Cheng had rejected all of Jin Ling’s requests to take a break.

Jiang Cheng had often bought fruits from stalls which he knew contained the fresh stock before Jin Ling had been due for his visits to Lotus Pier. He had known that growing children were required to eat fruits for proper physical and mental growth. So, he would make sure that he cut the fruits into equal slices and fed them to Jin Ling in the intervals between their daily meals.

Jin Ling had been constantly distracted and very impatient as a child, so it had been difficult for Jiang Cheng to make him sit down to do anything at all. But as soon as Jin Ling used to spot Jiang Cheng arriving with cut up pieces of fruits, he used to sit down immediately, all ready for his uncle to feed the slices of fruits to him. He used to eat them dutifully, without a single complaint, and Jiang Cheng always used to wonder why.

That day Jiang Cheng had been particularly busy and had been rejecting all of Jin Ling’s offers to spend time with him in the hopes that Jin Ling would leave him alone to complete his work. Jin Ling had instead disappeared for some time and had come back holding a plate with an apple and a knife in his tiny hands.

“Jin Ling, what are you doing?” Jiang Cheng had sighed, running a hand over his face. He had been incredibly exhausted that night.

“I’m going to cut this apple for you. Like you do when I need a break,” Jin Ling had said, sitting down some distance away from Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng had tried to blink away his tiredness to register what was happening, but it had happened so quickly that he could not possibly have done anything about it. One second, Jin Ling had just been sitting with the plate containing the apple and the knife, and the next, he had taken the knife into his own hands and was trying to cut the apple.

“Jin Ling!” Jiang Cheng had exclaimed, but by the time he had reached him, Jin Ling had already accidentally cut his finger. Jiang Cheng had quickly taken the knife into his own hand and put it down before pulling Jin Ling into his arms, trying to calm the crying child down.

“I’m sorry, Jiujiu. I was trying to cut up tasty fruits for you, like you do for me when I haven’t eaten for too long. You say that they are healthy and help us grow strong and focus on our studies. I thought it would help you focus on your work better,” Jin Ling had said in between his tears.

Jiang Cheng had shaken his head fondly, feeling a familiar warmth growing in his chest. This kid. He had still been slightly concerned about the blood falling from the cut to Jin Ling’s finger. But Jiang Cheng had lightly taken the finger and put it into his own mouth to cease the flow of blood and give Jin Ling some relief.

“I’m sorry, A-Ling. This isn’t your fault. I should have paid attention to you. Come on, shall we go outside to the Pier? I’ll get another knife and cut the apple into slices, okay?” Jiang Cheng had responded, and he had felt Jin Ling nodding his head on the top of his shoulder.

So, he had lifted Jin Ling up and walked out of the room without a backwards glance.

Now here he was, and Jin Ling wasn’t aiming to achieve a simple goal, he was planning an event. Jiang Cheng observed the dark circles under the kid’s eyes and the way he blinked faster than usual. The way he turned to the side and tried to stifle his yawn, and his tired smiles. The kid looked as though he might faint at any moment, and Jiang Cheng wondered how many hours he had stayed awake for, and how long it had been since he had eaten anything healthy or solid.

Jiang Cheng would need to have words with his elders and whoever was supposed to be taking care of Jin Ling because they were clearly failing at their one simple task. Jiang Cheng had been expecting this, really, and therefore was here to prevent exactly this.

Jin Ling still, despite being a teenager and a sect leader, behaved exactly the same as he used to when he had been a child. When it came to accepting fruit slices from Jiang Cheng, that is. He obviously didn’t let Jiang Cheng feed him anymore, but whenever Jiang Cheng kept the plate in front of him or knocked on the door to his room, Jin Ling dutifully stopped whatever he was doing to go sit beside Jiang Cheng and eat all of the slices with a patience and devotion that Jin Ling never showed with any other food item. It was always swallow first and chew later with the kid.

So here he was with a bag of fruits leaning against his knee. Jin Ling was angrily ranting about a problem they were going to discuss at the conference. Jiang Cheng had long since stopped listening because he had realised that he would not be required to speak up today. Jin Ling had the rest of his two uncles and his friends to take care of his problems, and Jiang Cheng knew they were more than capable of solving them. That wasn’t what Jiang Cheng was there for.

Luckily for him, things were going according to plan. Wei Wuxian piped up ever so often with suggestions, with Hanguang-Jun agreeing or adding a word or two to his suggestions, making Wei Wuxian smile so widely, Jiang Cheng was surprised his lips didn’t permanently stay that way. Then there were the juniors. They actively took part in the discussion, especially when the topic of discussion turned to the night hunt they had to prepare for.

Here was what irked Jiang Cheng though. He could understand why Jin Ling looked like he did. He knew his kid too well. But why did the rest of the juniors seem to be in similar conditions? Jiang Cheng hadn’t been in Jinlintai to take care of Jin Ling, but surely Lan Sizhui and the loud-mouthed brat, Lan Jingyi, had been taken care of in Gusu. What were idiotic Wei Wuxian and his stupid husband doing in Cloud Recesses if not taking care of their son and his best-friend? And why did they look just as tired as all of these kids?

Ouyang Zizhen’s father was a bit old, sure, but he was quite capable of taking care of his son. What was wrong with all of the adults in these children’s lives? Why weren’t they taking care of their children for fuck’s sake? Jiang Cheng was done with all of them.

He grumpily pushed away his paperwork, hoping that Jin Ling would continue to pay attention to the rest of the people in the room so that Jiang Cheng could be successfully ignored. But the moment he thought that—

“Jiujiu! Are you even listening to us? I didn’t call you here so that you could brood over your paperwork and avoid helping me for the discussion conference and the night hunt. You said that you would help! And yet here you are, ignoring me,” Jin Ling snapped. He looked hurt as he crossed his arms and glared at Jiang Cheng.

If Jiang Cheng hadn’t been busy worrying over the kid, he might have felt guilty for not participating in the conversations that had been taking place and failing in helping Jin Ling.

“I’m listening Jin Ling. But the rest of your uncles and your friends are making great points, so I have nothing to add. Why don’t you continue the discussion and I’ll just…join you when I have something to add to the conversation,” Jiang Cheng spoke, trying to keep his expressions neutral as he put his hand into the fruit bag.

“Jiang Cheng, are you alright? This isn’t like you.” Wei Wuxian said, his brows furrowing slightly, and Jiang Cheng sighed. This was perfect, really. The one time Jiang Cheng did not want to get noticed had to turn out to be the only time he did get noticed.

Jin Ling narrowed his eyes at Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Cheng could see the gears turning in his kid’s brain. “What are you up to, Jiujiu?”

Jiang Cheng pulled his hand out of the bag and pushed the bag behind him as fast as he could. He tried to be subtle about it, but he could tell that Jin Ling had noticed the bag. “What is that?” Jin Ling asked. He stood up and began to walk over to Jiang Cheng. Shit. Abort mission. ABORT-

Jin Ling reached behind Jiang Cheng and pulled the bag out in front of everyone’s view.

“What’s in that?” Lan Jingyi asked, the nosy brat.

Jiang Cheng tried to muster his scariest look. He was the Sandu Shengshou after all. “Jin Ling!” He scolded the kid, but Jin Ling had already opened the bag and was staring inside wide-eyed.

Something about the look on his face made a soft tenderness appear in the middle of Jiang Cheng’s chest.

“Come on, tell us what’s inside,” Ouyang Zizhen said all of a sudden. Jin Ling looked at Jiang Cheng and swallowed heavily. He gave the bag back to Jiang Cheng.

“Jin Ling, what does your uncle’s bag contain?” Lan Sizhui asked politely.

Jiang Cheng could tell that they were all dying to know what was in the bag, but Jin Ling did not say a word. Instead, he sat down next to Jiang Cheng, just like he had all those times when he had been a child, just like he had continued to do as he had grown up.

Jin Ling looked up at Jiang Cheng expectantly, a soft glint in his eyes. Even his features had changed, becoming more relaxed and brighter somehow. Jin Ling, in his entirety, was practically glowing.

“Can either of you just talk to us and tell us what is in that bag?!” Wei Wuxian dramatically exclaimed. But neither Jiang Cheng nor Jin Ling payed any attention to him or anyone else.

Jiang Cheng took an apple out of his bag. Jin Ling already had the plate in his hand, and he set it down on the table in front of him and Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng smiled softly to himself as he held the knife in his hand. Jin Ling watched patiently as Jiang Cheng cut up the fruit and kept it on the plate.

“Here kid,” he said, ruffling Jin Ling’s hair and patting him on the back. “You’ve done a good job so far, with the conference and this night hunt, and I’m proud of you.”

Jin Ling looked to be on the verge of crying, but he held it in, nodding his head and holding a slice of apple in his hand. “Thank you, Jiujiu.”

Jiang Cheng then looked up at the rest of the tired faces and proceeded to pour the rest of the fruits on the table in front of him. He sliced them all in quick succession and took a large plate over to the three juniors.

“I know all three of you have been working extremely hard for the hunt but overworking yourselves won’t get this event set up any faster. It will only exhaust you and make you work slower. So, take care of yourselves. I’m sure the rest of the Sect Leaders will appreciate all of your efforts just as much as I do,” he told them.

Then he took the second, medium-sized plate he was holding over to Wei Wuxian and set it down in front of him and Hanguang-Jun. “I don’t know why the two of you haven’t been sleeping properly or taking care of yourselves, but there is no excuse to be made for it. Take care of yourselves, but most importantly, take care of your kids,” Jiang Cheng paused and pointed at the two Lans who were staring at him wide-eyed, their mouths gaping open. “You cannot hope to take care of them if you don’t take care of yourselves first,” he said and stood up, walking back to Jin Ling.

Jin Ling had almost finished eating the apple slices, so Jiang Cheng put the rest of the slices on the table on Jin Ling’s plate. “Eat all of this,” he said. But instead of nodding along like Jiang Cheng expected him to, Jin Ling protested.

“You should have some too,” Jin Ling said. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at his stubborn kid.

“I already had some in the morning, along with a heavy breakfast unlike the rest of you, so eat up,” he stated to the room.

“Uhm, Sect Lea— I mean…what are we supposed to call you?” Lan Jingyi was at a loss for words. Ha! Fucking ha! Jiang Cheng seemed to have done the impossible.

The rest of the juniors seemed to be stunned speechless too. They seemed to be looking at Jiang Cheng as if they had never seen him before, as if they did not know how to react. Had nobody ever fed them apple slices during their childhood or showed them any concern? It wasn’t as though Jiang Cheng was doing something weird or unique, was it?

“You can call him ‘jiujiu’ too,” Jin Ling responded cheekily to Lan Jingyi.

Jiang Cheng glared at him, but before he could say anything, Ouyang Zizhen spoke up as though directly from his heart. “Thank you, Jiujiu.” Jiang Cheng stared at him stunned, but the next second—

“Thank you, Jiujiu,” Lan Jingyi piped up sincerely.

“Thank you, Jiujiu,” Lan Sizhui said, and his voice cracked a bit. Jiang Cheng could swear that he also saw a few unshed tears in his eyes.

“Thank you, didi,” Wei Wuxian said, following their lead.

Jiang Cheng would have spoken up if his throat hadn’t suddenly clenched up. He was not overwhelmed by emotions, dammit! How dare all of these juniors call him ‘jiujiu’? And how dare Wei Wuxian think it appropriate to call him ‘didi’ again?

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to speak up again but was interrupted by Hanguang-Jun this time. “Thank you, Sect Leader Jiang.” He stood up and bowed to Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng almost dropped his jaw at the respect shown to him by Wei Wuxian’s fiancée-husband. He was referring to him by his title, instead of his courtesy name or nothing at all. Jiang Cheng was in absolute shock.

“We are all grateful to you for reminding us of our duties and how important it is to take care of ourselves,” Lan Wangji said, nodding at Jiang Cheng in approval and acceptance and then sitting down.

Jiang Cheng didn’t know how to react. He hadn’t done anything other than giving out pieces of cut fruit and telling everyone to take care of themselves. He did this with Jin Ling all the time. It was not really a big deal. But everyone else in the room seemed to think that it was.

He watched Jin Ling throwing him the biggest smile he had seen in a while as Jin Ling ate a slice of a pear. It was as if he was proud of Jiang Cheng, and fuck, when had that happened.

As the rest of the people in the throne room shifted their attention to the fruits on their plate and began to eat, talking to each other in hushed voices, Jin Ling shifted closer to Jiang Cheng and muttered to him. “Jiujiu, do you think you could feed me? My arms feel numb from all of that writing and planning, and it hurts to lift them up to eat.”

Jiang Cheng smiled to himself, flicking Jin Ling on the head. “Ow, Jiujiu!” He said, rubbing his head.

“Brat! You think you can make excuses and lie to me like this? You realise I can still discipline you even though you’re a Sect Leader now, don’t you? Just like I can feed you apple slices despite it.” Jin Ling started out scowling at Jiang Cheng, but he ended up grinning sheepishly at him.

As Jin Ling rubbed the back of his head, clearly feeling embarrassed at getting caught with his lie, Jiang Cheng took a slice of pear and held it in front of his A-Ling.

“Jiujiu.” A sudden call out to him made Jiang Cheng turn to his side. He realised that it was Lan Sizhui who had called out to him. The Lan junior had turned a bright shade of red. “Could you— Could I— Can I be fed the fruits, too? I— My arms hurt, too.”

Jiang Cheng blinked in surprise at the request. He was even more surprised when the rest of the two juniors followed Lan Sizhui’s request with their own.

“Me too, Jiujiu.”

“Ah, my arms hurt so much, Jiujiu.”

Jiang Cheng turned to look at Jin Ling, who seemed to be glaring daggers at the three of them. “Shut up! He is my jiujiu. He can only feed me.” Jiang Cheng’s lips twitched and the hand that wasn’t holding the sliced pear reached up to ruffle Jin Ling’s hair affectionately.

Jin Ling flushed and quickly opened his mouth to bite the pear.

“I want a pat on my head too!”

“Me too!”

“Could I get one too, please?”

Jin Ling looked as though he were about to explode, and Jiang Cheng knew this meant that his nephew’s friends were in danger of being shouted at, so he spoke up. “Well, what are you waiting for? Come here, then! Let me feed you and pet your hair.”

The three juniors looked as though they had just discovered the secrets of the universe and scrambled to get up. Jin Ling, on the other hand, looked away from Jiang Cheng and all of his own friends. Jiang Cheng tried to hold back his fondness as he looked at Jin Ling. This kid.

“It doesn’t matter what they call me, A-Ling. Even if they do call me ‘jiujiu’, you’re still my kid, alright?” Jiang Cheng said, quietly, as he picked up another slice of pear. You’re my son. You’re irreplaceable, kid.

Jiang Cheng looked up as Jin Ling caught a hold of his wrist. “And no matter how many uncles I get, you’re still my adult— my guard— my parent.” Jiang Cheng forgot how to breathe. “So, I’m still going to need you to be present here, and to actively participate and help me no matter how many other people speak up, okay?” You’re my dad. And my mom. You’re everything to me.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and breathed out heavily, trying to hide his tears as he spoke softly. “I’m always going to be here for you, A-Ling. You’re my kid, after all.”

PS: After feeding the fruits to Jin Ling and the rest of the juniors, and giving them all the hair pats they deserved, Jiujiu sent them all to their rooms and ordered them to get some sleep. Then he had a talk with Wei Wuxian and Hanguang-Jun about how sleep>sex.

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

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Hawkweed (Hawks x Reader)

Prompt: Hawks and you have known each other for a good 4 years till your feelings made you walk through a rather… difficult path.

warnings: FEELS, a little bit of FLUFF

word count: 2.8k (its a long one folks)

4 years.

This all began 4 years ago.

It was still clear as day. The moment you stepped into his agency via request of Endeavor. Such a new environment for someone who preferred working underground. Scanning the lobby, each person had been doing their own thing, there were always 4 or 5 people running from one corner to another; phone in hand and laptop balancing on the other. Fast paced agency for a fast paced hero. All too fitting.

“So you’re the hero Endeavor-san sent?” Hawks inquired as he offered you a chicken wing. The smugness of his features still manage to make your heart flutter till now. “Look forward to workin’ with you then!”

You knew he was a flirt. You knew he was cheeky. Endeavor himself told you to be careful of the #2 Pro-hero. Enji Todoroki popped in and advised you to be wary for he can, undoubtedly, pull and win you over with his cheekyness.

You listened. You tried. You really did.

Until that one time.

A month ago.

You two were doing paperwork in his office. Side by side. Nothing new, really. Over the years, you’d grown accustomed to all his antics. If it meant being a little closer to seeing his genuine side, the side which always fascinated you, you were willing to keep up with him.

“Ya know, I’ve known you for 4 years and you still manage to captivate me like those chicken wings from down the block.”

Those were the words. Those words made you burst into laughter at just how random it was. Of course he would say that. He was Hawks.

That was the same day where everything just… spiraled out of control.

That same hour, he had excused himself to answer a call. When he turned his back, you let out a small cough.

You know those coughs you have when you laugh too much? You thought it was that. Until, you felt something clog up your throat. Coughing a little harder, you felt a foreign resting on your tongue.

Spitting it out, a small quiet gasp escaped your lips.

The legend was real. Your world came crashing down at the realization that this would be nothing but one sided love.

A small petal from a Hawkweed wedged between your fingers, mocked you. Turning your head to the person still talking on the phone, your heart beat began to spike as tears began to well in your eyes.

This was a slap to your face. A harsh painful slap that the feelings you tried to push aside came back at you with a much greater force than you would have ever anticipated.

Blinking the tears away, you tucked the petal into your pocket and resumed the paperwork. Not a moment too soon, Hawks flopped into the cushion next to you. His arm draped on the sofa’s back.

“As much as I like workin’ with ya, I gotta scramble. Committee wants me to head over there.”

“Sure. No problem.”

On that same day, just as he was about to fly his way, before bidding his farewell, he playfully pinched the bridge of your nose.

Such an interaction would have made you feel little tiny butterflies in your stomach. No. You felt as if small thorns were playfully poking your insides. Almost as if, small needles were teasing your skin. Waiting for the perfect moment to stab you relentlessly.

When he flew away, you coughed one more time. The choking sensation there as you tried to let the petal out of your throat.

A week had now passed since that day. No matter how hard you tried, the winged hero always managed to pair the two of you together. You loved it. You really did. Spending time with him was all you looked forward to each day.

But now, seeing his golden eyes meet yours sent pain through your lungs. What started with petals now became small chunks of the flower. What began with a bright yellow petal now changed into red tainted ones.

“Are you okay, birdie?” Hawks asked. His eyes taking in your features. He wasn’t blind. He was raised this way. You had changed, he knew it. Your cheeks weren’t as fluffy as they were. The brightness of your smiles seemed to be hiding something else. The shine in your eyes seemed to dull. “You know you can tell me right? What are chickens for…”

Of course. He only saw you as a friend. Nothing more, nothing less. For the first time, you looked away. Focusing on not the pain but on holding the cough you wanted to let out.

“It's… nothing.” You couldn’t fool him. That tone of voice was not you. You knew too well that he could see beyond your actions. But this one was beyond explanation. Luckily, he just let things slide and proceeded to chat about his day.

It really was nothing. You inside the women’s toilet, crouched down while holding desperately on the seat, coughing harder than you’ve ever did this week. Your tears came falling down when you saw how fast the sickness was growing. Floating in the water, fully bloomed Hawkweeds stained with your blood.

The pain you had grown used to was now too much. Each breath you took felt as if more flowers were blooming for the sole purpose of suffocation. For now, all you could do was to watch as you turned into the falling Icarus.

Flushing the yellows and reds away, you stood up and composed yourself. Stepping outside the stall, you walked towards the sink. Your eyes stayed glued to the mirror.

Puffy red eyes. A runny nose. Blood stained teeth with a small petal clinging onto the corner of your mouth. Eye bags that grew deeper as the days passed by. It felt as if a stranger was on the other side of the mirror. A stranger who was in pain of unrequited love.

Another week had passed. By now, you were barely functioning. All you had was the constant aid of your close friend.

“Do you love him that much, (Y/N)?” Fatgum asked as he held your hair back. This was the 3rd time he saw you cough up flowers and vomit blood. This was the 3rd time he had to go on his knees to aid your shivering hunched over body.

“I can't…” That’s what you always answered. By now, each breath was sending ridiculous amounts of suffering on your end. “I love him too much, Gum.”

“You’re already coughing up fully bloomed Hawkweeds. You have more than enough to make a dozen bouquets…” He had to rub circles on your back. Once again, you coughed, choked, and puked out blood stained flowers. “You know how this ends, dontcha?”

“Then perhaps I’ll just have to watch from a distance. You know, I always found him beautiful. I’ve always been a sucker for flowers. I’ve always dreamed of kissing the person who likes me back…” You lowered your head and stared at the puddle of blood and flowers. “But having to remove my feelings for something as ironic as this, I can’t Gum.”

Accepting his hand, you try to recover your balance. Taking the handkerchief he offered, you wiped away the blood and swallowed the metallic taste down your throat.

“That’s why… When the time comes, please don’t tell him.”

All Fatgum could do was bring you into his warm arms. Sobbing with you and the painful end you chose to bring yourself. Ever since that day, Fatgum would have a hating for flowers.

Today was the day. You knew it. You had woken up due to lack of oxygen. In the comfort of your own bed, you had puked a valley of bloody Hawkweeds. For a solid 3 minutes, you felt what it was like to lose air in your system. All you could do was grab onto your chest and breathe through the immense amount of pain your lungs and heart bestowed you.

As in on cue, your phone rings with his name on the screen. Biting your lip, you took the device and let out a shaky exhale.

“Hey, chicken. You okay?”

God his voice was smooth as silk. Your tears fell once more. Why was he showing you care? Why did he have to constantly feed you the idea of hope in this tragedy?

“I’m fine, Hawks…”

“Have you been crying? Chicken, please tell me what’s wrong…”

“Really. There’s nothing to worry about…” You managed to hit the mute button. Another round of petals and blood exited your system. Don’t cry. Don’t let him know you’re suffering. Don’t ruin the friendship. Unmute. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“I can pick you up if you wa-”

“No.” You had to cut him off. Your voice gave in and you knew he heard the crack in your voice. The small device on your ear was shaking from your hold. This pain crushing your lungs and heart was nothing like before. Still, you had to reassure him. “Please. I’ll be fine Hawks.”

You couldn’t take anymore. You hung up.

Putting your face in the palm of your hands, you sobbed and let go of all the sadness you felt in the moment. There was no sense of relief for releasing your sadness.

Unbeknownst to you, outside your window, a winged hero could hear your cries. A hero who was wondering why you would lie and choose to close yourself off from him. Knowing you hated it when he invades your privacy, he glides himself away with thoughts running in his head.

‘What did I do to hurt her?…'

Hours passed. Each step you took, each time you flexed a muscle to aid a civilian, your vision grew blurry. For once, you wanted to drop being a hero and be saved. The look on the civilian told you just how battered and in pain you were.

“I don’t know what you’re going through…” She whispered as you put her somewhere safe. “But if it’s any consolation, it’s okay to be heroed every now and then…”

Were you that easy to read now? Thanking her for the comfort, you ran back to the site of debris. Trying to hold back another attack

Heading towards an area you hadn’t searched yet, you surveyed for any civilians but it seemed to be clear. In the distance, you heard the announcement that it was all over and each civilian was now safe and out of harm’s way.

Going back to the base, you stopped your tracks and clutched on your chest. The world around you was spinning. Dropping onto your knees, you gave in for another attack. There was nothing you could do. You had been holding it for the past hour and your lungs needed sweet release.

Flower after flower, you coughed and choked just to get them out. Your body barely gave you the chance to breathe. If not a cough, you were puking a waterfall of blood and petals.

This was it.

Just when you were about to let go, a pair of gloved hands lifted your face.

A look of fear and worry etched on his handsome features. The way his eyes darted from you to the mess you made, your secret was now exposed.

“Who?” Hawks asked. His hands firmly keeping your face upright. “Who is he?”

“I can’t tell you, Hawks.”

His pupils shrunk and he grabbed a handful of blood stained Hawkweeds. Thank goodness he has zero knowledge of flowers, you thought.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Please… Stop…” The care he was showing you only made things worse. There was no holding it in, you had to let it out. Right in front of him, you coughed a hundred bloody flowers. Tears falling down your face at the shame of him seeing you like this.

“Don’t push me away, (Y/N).” Hawks was now gripping your shoulders. “Let’s take you to the hospital, yeah? We can still make it.”

“It’s too late, Hawks.” You couldn’t find the strength to look him in the eye. Who knew that the last minutes of your life, you would deny yourself the pleasure to stare into the eyes you loved dearly.

“I won’t take no for an answer, (Y/N).” His voice was stern but deep down, his heart was racing. He just couldn’t imagine his world without you. Seeing how you coughed up petals broke whatever was left of his heart. “I can’t lose you, (Y/N).”

“It’s you…” Barely a whisper. All you could do now was to focus your breathing. Just until he knows you love him.

“What?…”

“These are Hawkweeds.” Despite the tears falling, you managed to smile. It was the most agonizing thing you had to do. Telling your feelings in the brink of death. “I guess there’s no use in hiding it now…”

You cough once more. This time you let out a scream of pain. This was it.

“I love you, Hawks. Always have and always will.”

Not wanting to waste any time, Hawks pulls you in. He could care less about the taste of your blood in his mouth. He could push aside the taste of your salty tears on your lips. But he would never forgive himself if he failed to reciprocate your love.

“You can’t leave me now, chicken. I haven’t even asked you out on a date. I haven’t told you just how much you matter to me. You haven’t even given me the chance to properly say how I feel about you.”

You finally meet his eyes. However, this time, you weren’t staring into Hawks, you were staring into the man behind the hero. The same man who intrigued you from the start.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you breathed in. Whatever gut wrenching pain you felt, slowly began to vanish. Your throat finally felt free from all the flowers you had cultivated in your system.

“You… You love me?”

“Maybe my flirting was a little too vague. I love you, (Y/N). I really did want to tell you and make you mine but with the LoV and the committee always behind me, I had to push it aside.” Hawks began to explain. “I wanted to tell you when things would finally be safe and we could freely do the things we want. Had I known…”

Rummaging for something in his pocket, your eyes widened at the sight of your (favorite/flower)’s lone petal.

“When did you…?”

“2 weeks ago.”

“So you mean to say…”

“We were dumb enough to let this stupid sickness bring us together.”

After 3 weeks of suffering, you finally laughed. You finally felt free from the tragically beautiful but ironic disease. Both of you finally felt relief wash your souls as the remaining stems withered.

“So watcha say, birdie? Wanna grab some chicken wings?” Hawks managed to ask. A small smirk on his face knowing things turned well in the end.

“The one from down the block?” The shine in your eyes were finally back and the thorns Hawks felt in his stomach were now replaced by butterflies.

“You read my mind.” Hawks winked. Taking his glove off, he cupped your cheek and brushed it with his thumb. “I’m sorry I inflicted so much pain. I had no idea you were going through it as well.”

“I’m sorry, too. You ended went through pain because of all these cursed flowers.”

“I’m guessing you’ll slap the wings off me if I buy you a bouquet of flowers.” The cheeky grin you came to love now on his face.

“Damn right, Hawks.”

“Let’s cut the formalities. Drop the Hawks-oh and call me Keigo.” He gave you the finger guns. Something you hated but loved at the same time.

“I swear to the flower gods I wonder why I fell for you.”

“Well… We have all the time and chickens in the world for me to make you remember why!”

Pulling you back into his arms, you gladly hugged him back till you felt as if you were floating. Realizing the two of you were being carried by his wings, you couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

All this time, you simply needed the courage to tell him how you felt. All this time, you were not alone and your feelings were reciprocated.

Feeling his hold on you tighten, you breathed in the fresh air and the scent of something new growing between you and Pro-Hero #2.

4 years and 3 weeks. That’s how long it took for the two of you to finally start a new chapter together.

4 years and 3 weeks to finally hear the words you two longed to hear.

This was a rather unique start to the relationship but the two of you didn’t mind. Not one bit.

- - - - -

a/n:

how do ya’ll like this hanahaki au? ive always been fascinated with this concept and this would have to be my first :’) hope yall are okay~ always a happy ending here in my account :’)

#hawks x reader #hawks #wing hero hawks #mha hawks #bnha hawks #takami keigo #mha keigo takami

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the-wardens-torch · 3 years

Text

((About 1-2 years after the copper bell mines incident, based on a Lenormand card reading done for Fal by @adeat. The reading made a lot of sense to me, and really inspired me, but I stalled on the ending due to my usual process of waffling and wavering about locking down plot details. I think I might be ready to commit though after working on this a bit more.. over the course of 3 years *hangs head in shame*.))

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually nervous about a job, Fal.” Sunnthota’s tone was at once surprised and concerned. “You’ve never been the type to be intimidated by people of intellect or status.”

Falerin’s shoulders slumped involuntarily as he took a seat on the polished white lacquer of the piano bench, looking at the instrument without really seeing it.

“Well, you didn’t tell me that they were all…” he raised his hand and moved it in small circles as he mentally pushed aside all the insulting names he had for pretentious academics. “Adepts of the arcane arts... I figured that it was just the usual idle rich socialite gig until I saw this place…”

Fal warily eyed his surroundings; the framed diagrams in place of wall dressings and curtains, the bookshelves in places of statuary, the artifacts under glass in place of floral arrangements.

Sunnthota shook her head abashedly. “The Mealvaan’s Gate brass needed a good piano player for an event and you were the first one who came to mind. And I suppose I sort of assumed everyone knew that this place was a library. I thought your accepting meant you might be ready to get serious about your arcanima studies, or that you were at least willing to spend some time around mage-folk. ”

“No, I’m not. These aren’t my people and they never will be.” Falerin tugged at the immaculately white cravat around his neck as if to illustrate his point.

“I don’t like playing the dowdy schoolmarm any more than you like playing the reluctant student, you know. Its silly.” Sunnthota crossed her arms defiantly, adjusting them so as not to crease her spring green taffeta sleeves. “But perhaps you can think of it this way…I thought you’d appreciate getting away from the adventurer life and doing an old-fashioned music gig. Every time I see you you‘re complaining about all the killing and dungeons and… near-death experiences.” There was a touch of melancholy in her last few words, no doubt referencing their unpleasant shared history as adventurers.

“Eh, you’re right…“ Fal sighed. and uncovered the keys of the piano. Not a single one was chipped, and they lay in such perfect alignment that he could barely feel the gaps between them. It was exquisite. He hadn’t had even played a piano in so long, let alone been paid to play one… And the pay wasn’t bad for simply being part of the ambiance. “But what about Ruby…?” he said. “You yourself said you‘d be fascinated to see what her aetherial makeup is. She already gets stares whenever she‘s out, just among ordinary folks.”

Sunnthota then caught him with her scolding schoolmarm gaze. “Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous… really, most of them are so far up their own arses they won’t even notice you’re here, let alone her. Besides, arcanima is a very mercurial thing that can manifest in many forms - they’ll probably just think you’ve got a glamour spell cast on an -egi or a faerie.”

Falerin sighed, adjusting the satin cuff of his sleeve to further conceal the tiny, glowing entity hiding in it. He realized now that Sunn was absolutely right about their schoolmarm and student dynamic, and he didn’t like it. They’d been friends a long time and the least he could do was trust her. Besides, he’d grown quite good at hiding Ruby over the years.

“Eh, you’re probably right. I just feel like if I call attention to myself, it’d be like gathering a bunch of classical composers, trying to impress them with armpit fart noise versions of their most moving concertos, and telling them you were my music teacher.”

Sunnthota smirked. “Well, I would still call that an exaggeration, but at least you’re starting to sound more like yourself. And besides, the guild doesn’t even know I‘ve been teaching you arcanima…” Sunnthota uncrossed her arms and raised her hand to her lips before mumbling the words …“without their permission.“ She furrowed her brow slightly before meeting his eyes again.

“I know you, Fal, and that means I know that you‘re clever enough to make it work. Remember that Monetarist party? You sang gibberish, told them it was an old Belah’Dian dialect, and they still applauded you when you were done.”

Fal raised the back of his hand to his mouth to conceal the smile and faint nose-laugh prompted by the memory… He did consider that one of his prouder moments, and she knew it.

She smiled again and placed a hand on his shoulder, and when she spoke, her voice was gentle and sincere. “Just the same, I’m sorry to have put you in this situation. I honestly didn’t think it would make you so uncomfortable.”

“Its fine, Sunn. I‘m just being a little shit, like you said.“ Falerin ran his fingers gently over the piano keys again. He could tell by their weight and warmth that they were solid ivory, and by the lack of wear that the instrument was rarely, if ever, played. “I’m sure they wouldn’t waste their time on me, and I‘m certainly not going to volunteer anything. You‘re just about the last person I want to cause trouble for.” He reached back over his shoulder and placed his hand on hers, realizing a bit too late that his palms were slightly sweaty.

“Just try to relax and enjoy yourself and I’m sure it won‘t even be an issue. I should get to the foyer and start greeting people, but I’ll try to swipe a drink for you later. ” she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

“Much obliged, Sunn… Any requests once this thing gets started? Or when I remember how to play a piano?” Fal asked over his shoulder.

Sunnthota hesitated for only a second. “Well, I know it’s a bit sentimental for an intellectual gathering, but how about Rose of May?” Sunnthota replied. “I haven’t heard it in ages.”

“Sure thing.” Fal smiled. “And don’t worry about what I said earlier. I’d be a right bastard if I ever let you down over something as dumb as a party gig.”

“Thank you Fal. I really do appreciate this!“ she said, clenching her fists with girlish excitement. “I was trying to make you feel better with that head and arse comment, but there really are some people here I‘m just dying to talk to.” She took a short moment to clear her throat and compose herself before she ran off, her shoes drumming rhythmically on the white stone floor. Clearly she was hiding her excitement about this event for his sake… Clearly she was also quite capable of moving at great speeds while in heels.

#my writing #in-character #Falerin Arcita #Sunnthota Rymmharrwyn #i tried to find a screenshot header for this #but too tired

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shuatoyou · 4 years

Note

hello!! can i request a fake dating f2l au with joshua w a bit of jealous joshua and mainly fluff with a teeny bit of angst thanku!

here’s the long awaited request anon! thank you for this i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing.

fluff with some angst i think?

joshua x reader

wc; 1,896

“y/n are you bringing a date to the wedding?” your mom curiously asks while you observe the dress you had on in the mirror in front of you. the question makes you turn around to face her.

“um no?” you hesitate and your response makes her look up at you.

“bring your boyfriend sweetheart.” she smiles diverting her attention to the dress you had on. “that joshua kid, he’s your boyfriend right?”

“yeah! o-of course” you stammer on your words hoping your mom would take no notice and turn around on your heals swiftly facing the mirror watching your reflection panic.

you and joshua were not dating in fact you doubted he would have any feelings for you whatsoever seeing as you were best friends, however he was a regular plus one to the family events because of them constantly getting on your case about dating and it would be embarrassing for them if their only daughter kept attending these events alone after all they boasted about your social life. so joshua continuously offered to attend alongside you and pretend to be your lover which was a role he played successfully to your luck.

you walked out of the dress store shortly parting ways with your mother to go back to your home with the new dress for the upcoming occasion.

you walk in to your humble abode dropping all your bags down beside the sofa and letting yourself fall onto the soft seat. truthfully you dreaded asking joshua to go to this wedding with you as your date mainly due to the fact you had some unrequited feelings you’d recently develo=ped towards the other but you knew it would be even more awkward asking someone else from your friendship circle so he was the only answer at the end of the day.

picking up your phone you dial joshua’s number startling once you hear his soft voice come through.

“hey y/n whats up?” joshua asks cheerfully making you close your eyes tightly at the tone of voice that always gave you butterflies.

“nothing much, i was just wondering if you were free this weekend?” you ask him as confidently as you can.

“are you asking me on a date?” at this point you knew he was smirking as he asked that.

“no but i do need someone to go with me to my cousins wedding this saturday. you’re being weird though maybe i’ll ask jeonghan instead” you somewhat tease knowing the boy will object.

“you better not, of course i will be there as your date” he emphasises on the date and you can feel a blush creeping up to your cheeks

“yes you will. my dress is light blue” you state nonchalantly notifying the boy.

“bet you’ll look great, i’ll find a tie to match.”

his sudden compliment catches you completely off guard and its evident as you barely manage to let out a small ‘okay’ a few seconds late causing joshua to chuckle over on his end knowing he had this effect on you.

“bye y/n” he exclaimed before abruptly hanging up.

you groan into a pillow frustrated wondering how you would get through the weekend, the answer should be like all the other times but you felt nervous nevertheless.

joshua eyed you intently watching you walk over to him with your dress flowing all princess like around you and every little detail such as the colour and the fitting of the stunning material complementing all your features.

“hi” you both breathed out at the same time making eachother giggle in unison.

“you look amazing” joshua smiles opening the door to his car on the passenger side, a gentlemanly courtesy from the one and only gentleman. you blush getting into the car ready to return a compliment to him as he gets in to the driver seat to drive you both to the venue, however nothing leaves your mouth. perhaps it was the nerves.

the drive is filled with joshua talking about his week with you commenting here and there whilst trying to avoid glancing over at him, nodding your head to the music playing quietly from the radio.

thankfully the journey wasn’t longer than twenty minute, at the hall you step out of the car only to be greeted with joshua offering you his arm which you shyly accepted either way as you walked in and began greeting your family with joshua beside you attracting stares left and right.

“y/n sweetheart!” your mother rushes up to you giving you a hug which made you untwine your arm from joshua’s to return it.

“i see you brought your handsome boyfriend” she winks causing joshua to widen his eyes and laugh at the suddenness of her compliment. you glanced up to him to see his cheeks flushed which you found endearing to say the least.

“you guys are sitting over there” she points over to a table a few steps away. “whenever you’re ready come join us” the last words are spoken and soon enough your mother is gone to deal with other business.

joshua turns to you, instinctively you turn around to face him.

“should we go sit down now?” he speaks out watching your gaze soften as you listened to him speak.

you nod so he reaches to hold your hand and leads the way to the table, the sudden action shocked you so you stopped at a halt making joshua stop with you.

“is something wrong?” he asks eyes showing worry.

“no... just- you’ve never done that before” you mutter looking down at your intertwined hands.

“sure i have, but i’m especially your date for tonight so i think i have the privilege to hold your hand even more.” he winks before continuing the way to the table and even pulling out your chair for you to sit making the adults at the table coo at his gentlemanliness.

the entire night joshua spent talking to you, making you laugh here and there at the little jokes he would throw in, hearts doing backflips unknown to one and other but you couldn’t help enjoy the company.

he left momentarily for the bathroom leaving you alone until another figure approached you tapping your shoulder to gain your attention you respond by turning around to see your childhood friend who you immediately stood up to greet the individual.

“seungcheol? it’s been a while!” you exclaim, eyes widening trying to adjust to the new appearance of your long time friend before pulling him into a hug.

“yeah we’ve both changed a bit clearly.” he chuckles looking down at his own suit once pulled away.

“sit, im sure my parents would love to see you again!” you speak out pointing towards the nearest chair as you sit down on your own.

joshua returned to see you in deep conversation with the boy unknown to him the pang of jealousy hit hard causing him to frown at the male at the center of your attention making you laugh like he was earlier. silently he approached taking a seat in the next vacant chair as his previous one was now occupied by the stranger.

it wasn’t long before you to noticed joshua’s presence and you wasted no time introducing the two to each other.

“joshua this is seungcheol, we grew up together and seungcheol this is my date joshua” you introduce the two boys to each other both of them passing on friendly smiles before turning their attention back to you.

“oh are you guys dating?” seungcheol asks genuinely curious.

you stutter unable to answer the sudden question however joshua speaks up anyways. “yeah we are” he reaches to hold your hand repeating the action that turned you into a flustered mess but you nod anyways going along with him.

“im happy for you y/n! i hope you both last a long time”

seungcheol’s words had more of an effect on you two than expected and it was the same for joshua who you felt squeeze your hand gently.

“anyways, i’m going now but i’ll see you around?” seungcheol gives you both a little wave and you nod in return before watching him walk off. you turn around to joshua straight away only for the boy to let go of your hand and more immersed in a glass of wine.

“you’re gone red” you poke at his cheek snickering ever so slightly making joshua put down his treasured glass to look at you with a blank expression before turning away again. you huff getting up hoping for a slight change of expression from the boy but to your dismay - nothing.

a slow tune started playing and you glanced around to see guests getting up to join the slow dance at the centre of the hall. you sit back down only for joshua to get up this time and hold out his hand to you. puzzled, you give him a questioning look.

“dance with me” he mumbles and you dont waste anymore time giving into dancing with him despite your heart racing like crazy.

to be honest you could barely concentrate on dancing with joshuas hands resting on your waist with yours around his neck. his touch felt like fire and you couldn’t help but feel warm inside despite your nerves now skyrocketing.

“you haven’t given me much attention tonight” joshua spoke with a low tone down into your ear as you both swayed to the gentle music.

“w-what do you mean” you pull back slightly to see his face better but regret it almost immediately realising how close in proximity your faces were.

“i thought it was obvious.” he chuckled and you could feel your heart racing at a dangerous number of miles per minute. sure you were a little bit oblivious but you were scared of misunderstanding his words so you stayed silent not breaking eye contact waiting for him to continue which he did.

“i like you y/n” he muttered once again into your ear, you felt his breath fan your neck sending shivers down your spine and your cheeks burning. the fact that your feelings were not so unrequited brought a lot of shock to you but you couldn’t help the smile now taking over your expression out of happiness.

joshua examines your face searching for an kind of indication you were okay with his confession before setting his gaze onto your rosy lips. you dont hesitate before reaching up to connect your lips that went together perfectly.

the both of you pull away first aware of your surroundings and it wasnt long till both of you were betrayed by the visible blush forming.

the song finally came to a halt and joshua led you outside where it was quieter.

“so what do you say? we should date for real now right?” he’s close to you again and hoping you cant hear the pace of his heart.

“not how i expected to be asked out at someone elses wedding but yes dummy we should” you laugh out lifting up your hand to push back his hair messing it up as joshua’s arms find their way around your waist again pulling you closer to him.

“good” he whispers connecting your lips once again both of you smiling into the kiss feeling pure bliss and completely content with the events of the night.

#anon!!#joshua request #enjoy <3 #seventeen #seventeen blog #joshua hong #joshua #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #seventeen request #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #f2l

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sparkexplosive · 4 years

Text

Sentiment [Izuku Midoriya] ; 05

Precious Chapters in Sentiment [Izuku Midoriya] SERIES

Warning: Name calling, rumors Word Count: 2,235

You knew coming back to school will be tough, but it’s tougher than you thought. Everyone is isolating themselves from being related to you. You wouldn’t blame them, but you were a bit angry because of how people easily believe false rumors. The rumors are getting out of hand or even being dramatized.

You had to watch your step and be on the lookout because you became disgraced in front of everyone’s eyes. People tried to make yourself look like a fool such as taking apart your desk and chair screws to attempt on tripping you. You were getting sick of it. You knew you couldn’t go eat your lunch in the inventory room, as usual, you would do or sit with your ex tables with his friends. You took a seat in the corner away from everyone.

Misaka was using her pass on skipping couple periods to get ordered materials that needed to be picked up from the shop. She is working on her project for the invention event. You ate quickly using your school’s tablet to pull up the roster of all students in the hero course matching up with students from the support department. You scroll down for your name to have your eyes land next to the name, Midoriya Izuku.

You took a deep breath and gulped down your saliva before you double-tap to highlight his name and press the button to delete. Now it’s official that he is free for any other students to take him if they like to and ask for his permission. You blow out from your mouth and scrolled up to the top to see the available names to be quite surprised to see one of the top 3 heroes in training from Class A-3 was available.

Bakugou Katsuki.

You have worked with him before and already know his measures. An idea suddenly appearing on your mind could be the invention you could do for his costume. Perhaps an upgrade from his current costume to changing some parts of his costume. As you open the drawing application to start sketching away on what his upgraded costume could look like and writing down some details would have to explain to him.

You had to present something to him to show what you could do. Perhaps other students brought ideas that he didn’t like which concludes blunt rejection from his part. He is a very blunt person who doesn’t sugar-code anything. He could reject you for numerous reasons but you know he uses his brain more than rumors, hopefully.

You get so sucked into your work. You didn’t realize the person you were sketching ideas for was getting into argument with his friends on the other side of the cafeteria.

“Bakugou, that’s a bad idea. It will affect your reputation.” Kaminari Denki doesn’t agree on what his friend was about to do and the rest of his friends agree to expect Kirishima and Bakugou.

Kirishima Eijirou is dating your best friend, Misaka, and couldn’t voice out his thoughts. He just makes his mouth open to speak but he doesn’t agree with them. He believes to know [Name] well enough with all interactions he had with you. You aren't a bad person, perhaps you simply make a mistake. Everyone is human. Everyone makes a mistake due to a lack of judgment.

“All of you are dumbass to believe those fucking dramatized rumors. You must be fucking blind if you didn’t see how they behaved with that loser.” Bakugou Katsuki abruptly stands up shaking off Denki’s arm around his shoulder. He was walking towards you.

Kirishima looks at his back and looks down on his empty before standing up too. “They did have genuine feelings for Midoriya despite what everyone thinks. I have seen it first hand.” Kirishima says before walking away from his table.

He recalls all those double dates with the two. The look of full adoration and happiness towards Midoriya couldn’t be faked. For someone who was faking their love, they wouldn’t worry about their well being as much as they did. They would scold him and create something even stronger than before to protect him from harming himself. He remembers hearing Midoriya named being yelled and dragged inside while his friend and himself were playing video games in the lounge area. Someone to fake to ensure that Midoriya was eating despite being so sucked into training. You would drag him out from outside because Midoriya skipped a meal which earns scold from you.

You even cook for him ahead of time each time.

No one would go to those extremes when they are faking the entire time.

He recalls the festival where Misaka dragged him away to hide when she spotted you and Midoriya holding hands while chatting away in your conversations. That look in your eyes could not be faked, it was genuine feelings behind those (eye color) eyes.

Meanwhile, Bakugou takes a seat beside you which startled the hell of you. He was staring at the sketches which resembled his costume. You must have been thinking of ideas before approaching him to be your model considering numerous students tried to approach him.

“Show me what you got.” He commands before looking at you who was looking at him completely bewildered.

“Why are you here?” You were shocked that he approached you out of the blue.

“I needed a partner.” He lies, as Kirishima sits beside you.

“It seems like you needed some companionship.” Kirishima smiles causing your lower lip to tremble. Your eyes shined before you blink away your tears.

“Those rumors are ridiculous. Perhaps one is true but the rest..”

“Bullshit.”

You crack a smile feeling a weird sensation in your chest, perhaps its relief that not everyone believes those rumors. Kirishima and Bakugou are trying to cheer you up in their ways.

Bakugou snatches the tables over causing you to jump in surprise. “Be gentle! It can be deleted easily!” You exclaimed as he looked over the sketches.

“Are you gonna explain or not?” Bakugou mocks you before you huff your cheeks with air.

“Rude!” You mumble and take the tablet back from Bakugou, placing it in the middle where both of them could see.

You use your tablet drawing pen to circle what you are talking about in a new layer that could be easily deleted without affecting the rest of your work. “There are numerous options you could, such as upgrading your whole suit or just upgrading your gear.”

“Wouldn’t it be expensive?” Kirishima thinking back at how much his costume upgrades cost, thankfully Fatgum agency is paying for it. His wallet hurts from just imagining it.

“Yes. But it is possible to get donors, especially Bakugou's reputation as a hero and mine as an inventor. However, I believe Endeavor wouldn’t mind since Bakugou is gonna be working under him. Endeavor knows me personally since I have done his sidekick’s gear upgrades. He knows I am about the quality of all of my inventions, not the price tag.” You answered his question without any hesitation.

“Why are my gauntlets smaller?” Bakugou questions.

“I could make them smaller which could be better for you if you were to need to carry citizens or carry anything, in general, a lot easier than removing your whole gauntlets off to do things.”

“The same amount of power.” Bakugou questions before a smile comes to your lips.

“I could, but I thought you would like it to be in higher capacity.” Your answer brought a smirk on his face.

Kirishima’s eyes widened, “Bigger. Holy shit.”

He thinks of Bakugou with his famous gremlin laughing and letting out bigger explosions but seeing the two of you. He can see imaginary horns on top of the two heads with arrow tails behind them while the two discuss further into his costume change.

It was entertaining but amusing how well the two got along as if the two have worked before. He could see Bakugou was impressed but ignited to test it out. You were explaining the different options in detail as Bakugou gave tips to want he would like.

Soon enough, the time was flying so quickly that the bell rings alerting students lunchtime was over which caused everyone to throw away their trash and put their trays where they supposed to be. Kirishima had already said goodbye to you before walking over to his classmate while Bakugou stayed behind to talk to you.

“Hand over your phone.”

“Excuse me.” You were confused about his request.

“Don’t you want my fucking phone number. We can discuss when we could meet up.“ Bakugou angry mumbles and holds out his hand where you quickly dig into your pockets to pull it out and open it for him to enter his digits.

“You want to be a partner.” You were double confirming and surprised how easily he accepted it.

“Yeah, Dumbass.” He hands it back to you where he starts walking away.

You smiled softly before thanking him loudly since he was speed walking to his class. “Thank you!”

“Whatever!”

_____________________

Later that day, Bakugou texted you if you were free after school to discuss it over some food. You can’t deny free food. You were waiting outside his classroom since your classes were already finished for the day. Usually, you would use this time to be the inventory but since you are technically banned from the room for a while. You are just using the tablet to draw out better visual ideas and sitting on the floor.

You had your earphones on while students walk by to go home due to classes ending sooner. There are just a couple minutes left for the bell to ring. The door slips open to walk out Aizawa who tiredly glances over to the side to see you minding your own business and drawing on the school’s tablet. He taps your foot with his.

You get startled and take off your earphones. “Stand up before my students start tripping over you.” He mumbles before walking away.

“Sorry. Aizawa.” You immediately stand up and stuff away from your tablet into your bag before putting it on to only make eye contact with big brown eyes that were filled with irritation.

Uraraka Ochako.

“Why are you here? Deku doesn’t want to talk to you.” She harshly says pulling your heartstrings. You whine at the thought he probably doesn’t want to even see you.

“I already know that.” You mumble rubbing your arm in discomfort.

“I am here for Bakugou.” You could see the confusion and disgust in her eyes.

“The rumors are true. You are trying to hook up with anyone.”

Your eyes widen and gasp. “What the actual fuck! No. He is -”

“Their new partner as the model for the department event. Round face.” They both turn around to see him towering over Uraraka easily with his height.

He walks beside the brown-haired girl. “You shouldn’t easily believe rumors.”

With his last words to his classmate, before grabbing your wrist and dragging you behind him. You try your best to keep up with him, pacing him and ignoring the stars on your back.

As Midoriya Izuku finally comes out from hiding in his classroom to stare at your back being dragged away by his rival.

He isn’t surprised but he couldn’t help but feel hurt.

He isn’t prepared to confront you again, nevertheless being your model where you would need to casually be in contact with one another.

His hands curl into a tight fist on his back straps before turning the other side of the hall away from you being in his sight.

He knew you had to find a new partner since the two of you did not end in a good note, but terrible note.

He knows this event is important for your career as an inventor for heroes. As much as he wants to hate you for what you have done, but he couldn’t pull himself to do so.

On the other side, you were surprised how students moved quickly to stay clear from Bakugou path.

However, people were gossiping over the sight of being together.

“Is she sleeping with him too?”

“That feral boy and the whore deserve each other.”

Your eyes glance down to the floor. You just want to bury yourself into the hole and die. The rumors are getting out of hands. Your mask is starting to crack. It overwhelms how your reputation is being dragged through the mud like shit.

However, you were snapped out of it by a pull and soft squeeze from him make you look up at him with your tearful eyes.

“Focus on me, block them out.” He murmurs loud enough for you to hear as he glares down at the student that even tries to block his path.

Your eyes widen at his advice. You know he is trying to bring you comfort in his way. He is a good person deep down around his sharp edges.

It also sounds like he is speaking from experience. There are numerous rumors about the feral boy from Class A from the beginning of their first year after the sports festival.

Perhaps that’s why he always glares at nothingness when he is walking to block out everyone’s whispers around him.

You stare at the back of his hair and see Bakugou in a new light.

_______________________________________________

I would love to hear any predictions or theories, you guys have!

Feedback is appreciated!

Please be kind within the comments. I hope you are enjoying the story. Sorry for any spelling or grammar errors.

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kpopfanfictrash · 5 years

Text

Paralian (II)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: reader is a virgin, oral (female), body worship, hand holding

Genre: Pirate!AU + Merfolk!AU + Royalty!AU

Synopsis: Far away, under the sea exists the merfolk Kingdom of Venetus. Y/N is a warrior princess, sworn to protect the nation she loves. Each night she and her unit are tasked with patrolling the ocean, until one night they come across an unmarked ship. The ship carries a dangerous secret which tears Y/N’s ideals apart. In the midst of escaping said danger, Y/N is forced to rely upon a Prince. The Prince of Pirates, whose fate and Y/N’s seem inexplicably entwined. Whether their meeting will end in joy or heartbreak remains to be seen. (A -very- loose retelling of The Little Mermaid).

Word Count: 6,530

A/N: This one shot takes place after Paralian, a one shot which can be found here. I highly recommend you read Paralian before reading this.

Leaning your hands on the rail of the ship, you stare at the inked sea before you.

The night is calm, as is the dark surface of the ocean. It is not yet the season for storms – that will come later, when the air of the city is heavy and stifling with heat. When it weighs upon skin as heavily as the water. This is what Jimin explained when you asked about Paralian seasons.

Turning, you survey the deck of the schooner. It has been several weeks since you arrived in Venetus. Already, you miss the warmth of the ocean, the familiarity of home and the faces of friends. Of course, Paralian is not all bad. Taehyung came with as an assistant of sorts. Ever since you met Jungkook’s crew, the young merman has harbored a fascination with humans.

You have made new friends as well; some of whom may one day mean as much to you as your merfolk. Still, everything about this land is different. There are many sectors of Venetus, but each Lord and Lady who presides respects your father as ruler. This is not so in Paralian. Many despised the old King and now, with Jungkook as monarch, they remain skeptical of his rule.

Each time you see Jungkook, he seems tired. Dark circles ever-present under his eyes and you hear from the servants he sleeps little at night. Even when he locks himself in his tower, it is only to work. He pours over histories of past, treaties of present and pushes himself to create new solutions. His tenacity is one you recognize and so, you respect it.

It is why you have not sent for him since your arrival. The best way to help is by doing your duty and so, you go about your daily business, meeting with foreign dignitaries at your father’s request. Your presence has provoked mixed reactions at best. Paralian remembers the war, even if you do not.

Still – you have achieved a few noteworthy items. Yoongi’s position on the Council is accepted and the slave trade in Paralian has ended. You initiated a coalition of aid to be sent to Aurelian in the hopes of ending their land-locked battle.

With a sigh, you glance again at the sea. There is still much to be done, but as your father always warns, permanent change takes time. He is right, but you have never been known for your patience.

Tightening your grip on the rail, you glance at the rich silk gown you wear. Earlier tonight your deck held a party. One thrown by Taehyung in an attempt to meet more of the Paralian nobility. For the most part it worked – although now, multiple women from Jungkook’s court are madly in love with the young, blonde merman.

Laughing softly, you drain the rest of your champagne.

Champagne is another thing you have tried since coming to Paralian. It is not available, nor is it practical under the sea – on land though, it is considered a delicacy. You cannot help but agree, since the fizzy sensation is wonderful, although you must be careful not to overindulge. The first time you drank, you did not understand and Taehyung spent the better part of an evening holding your hair over a bucket.

Vomiting is an unpleasant human sensation. Grimacing at this, you step away from the rail. Only a few Paralians remain onboard your ship. Taehyung is surrounded by admirers, as he usually is. Bringing him instead of Hoseok was a purposeful decision. Hoseok is many things, but charming is not one of them – this is something he knows and embraces. Taehyung is here to smooth over the feathers you ruffle.

He laughs at someone’s joke, the mercurial noise booming over the deck. Most of the party’s attendees have staggered to land, filling the halls of Paralian taverns until the wee hours of the morning. You will not follow – you cannot. Instead, you return to your cabin and prepare for tomorrow.

Another long day awaits, filled with small talk and meetings. Handing your glass to a server, you gather your skirts and cross towards your rooms. Taehyung catches your eye when you pass, beckoning to join the crowd at his side. The glass in his hand is still full, as are those of the people around him. Chuckling, you shake your head no and continue. It was a polite gesture, more than anything else; Taehyung knows the nobles are uncomfortable around you, due to your title.

Your cabins are at the far end of the hall, taking up the entire stern of the ship. It seemed extravagant when you boarded, but Taehyung insisted upon the arrangement. Half of politics is presentation, he argued and you reluctantly agreed.

The door creaks when it opens, pausing in darkness to fumble for a light. This is another difference between Paralian and home. In Venetus, all rooms are lit by bioluminescence but here, the lamps are oil and fire. Your fingers are clumsy striking the match; you nearly burn yourself twice in the process. In your first few days ashore, you burnt yourself often while becoming accustomed.

Your Paralian servants are always here to help, but you shoo them away. It is not because you do not trust them – although, come to think of it, perhaps you should not. You trust Jungkook and certain members of his court, but you cannot deny that animosity exists. You have experienced it often from the deck of your ship.

Releasing a sigh, you stare at yourself in the mirror. These quarters are another source of discomfort. Removing pins from your hair, you place these on the dresser. Living in Paralian, you are confined to this ship. Jimin once spoke of a wing Jungkook intends to build in the palace, one ankle-deep in water, but that is years away at best. In the meantime, you are forced to live within a few thousand square feet.

The claustrophobia is a far cry from your endless Kingdom of water. Glancing outside your window, you stare at the night sky. The stars seem dim in comparison to the town. Another oddity, in your opinion. Why bother to use artificial light, when the stars and moon are brighter than anything conjured?

Shaking your head, you begin to undo your laces – apparently, it is frowned upon for Paralian women to wear trousers – when a knock sounds at your door.

Your head jerks up, hands falling to your sides. It is unusual for someone to call upon you at this hour. Taehyung would not, unless it was an emergency and hurriedly, you rush to the door. Since leaving Venetus, you have not carried your sword on this ship. It lies, polished and unused, upon the oak of your desk. You stare at this for a moment before deciding against it. If someone truly wished you dead, they would not bother to knock.

Gripping the handle, you open the door.

Jungkook stands in the hall, framed by the moonlight.

You blink. Since your arrival, he has not visited once. Likely, this is due to his aforementioned schedule, but you cannot deny it hurts. After all that transpired between you, you thought – perhaps wrongly – he would wish to see you.

Jungkook clears his throat. “Good evening, Princess.”

“Evening?” Your brow raises despite yourself. “It is nearly midnight, Your Majesty.”

Jungkook makes a face. “There’s no need for such formality.”

“I believe you started it, Majesty, by calling me Princess.”

Jungkook stares for a moment, then smiles. “I suppose I did,” he admits.

He seems tired. Dark circles shadow his eyes, the crease of his jacket is wrinkled and his posture, normally impeccable, is slouched. The weight of his crown seems heavier than gold upon his brow. Still, he is beautiful and you cannot look away.

“Jungkook?” you prompt when he says nothing more. “Was there something you wanted to ask?”

“I – er, yes. No. Kind of?”

Your lips press together, hiding your amusement. “Well, which is it?”

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “I actually... came here to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Careful, you keep your words light. “Whatever for?”

“Please,” Jungkook murmurs. His gaze glints in the darkness. “I think you know what for. I have not been a very gracious host.”

“On the contrary.” Turning around, you re-enter your rooms. Leaving the door open, you invite him over the threshold. “My living spaces are adequate, my food always warm, my meetings arranged. It is everything an Ambassador could hope for.”

“You are not only an Ambassador to me.”

Your feet freeze, heart hammering your ribcage. His tone conjures memories which have haunted you for months. The press of his lips near the water, the whispered entreaties against your skin. You yearn for this, long to hear those words again – much in the same way you long for the sea.

The topic has not been revisited since your arrival and in this, you wondered if you were alone. Perhaps it was merely grief which caused him to kiss you. Perhaps he has forgotten, or time has lessened his wanting.

Behind you, the door softly closes. “Y/N.” Jungkook sounds distressed. “Say something.”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of your dress. “Say what?” you ask, hardly daring to breathe. If you turn around now, if you see him, there is no telling what you might do.

Jungkook’s footsteps grow closer behind you. “I would understand if you are angry.” He walks until he faces your front. “I – I know I should have come sooner.”

Tilting your chin up, you meet his gaze. “I don’t fault you for that.”

“Maybe you should.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“Mm.” Jungkook looks at you strangely. “But that isn’t why I stayed away.”

Reeling backwards, you attempt to compose your features. That is not what you thought he would say. “I – oh,” you stammer, uncertain what to do now.

Swiftly, Jungkook catches your hands in his. “I kept wanting to come,” he admits, slightly hoarse. “I did. And I was busy, but that wasn’t the main thing keeping me from you.”

“Oh?” Gaze roaming his face, your brow furrows. “Then, what was?”

“I was scared.”

“Scared? That doesn’t sound like the fearsome pirate I know.”

“Not a pirate anymore,” he reminds, glancing up at his crown. “In my short time as monarch, I’ve found Kings are afraid of all sorts of things.”

His words are reminiscent of your father. An entire Kingdom at his fingertips and what your father feared most was losing you, losing your mother. Slowly, you begin to understand what is bothering him.

“Jungkook,” you say kindly. “What frightens you?”

“Many things.” His grip tightens on yours. “I’m scared of leading my country to danger. Scared my instincts are all the wrong ones. I’m afraid of becoming attached,” he admits, “only to be hurt in the end.”

Heart constricting, you look down. Jungkook is still healing, that much is obvious – with the way his father died, you are not surprised. It is difficult for him to trust and you wonder if it was the wrong move to wait for him to come to you. Initially, you thought you were giving him space but maybe not. Jungkook has already told you his feelings, after all. You have yet to say anything.

Stepping closer, your hands find his arms. Jungkook inhales, startled.

“I can’t make you trust me,” you whisper. Your words echo what he once said to you.

Jungkook does not respond. His gaze is hesitant, looking at you.

“I can tell you what I feel, though.” Heart beating erratically, it elicits a similar sensation to the champagne.

Slowly, he nods, waiting for you to continue.

“I petitioned my father for weeks to let me be the Venetun Ambassador,” you quietly admit. “He didn’t want me to be, at first.”

“No?” Jungkook seems confused. “Why not?”

“It’s funny.” Gently, you laugh and shake your head. “I asked him the same thing. I think everyone else knew I was falling in love before I did.”

Jungkook freezes in place.

“Hoseok, my father...” Giving a shrug, you trail off. “I didn’t know what I was feeling. I didn’t know what to do with these feelings, what to call them – but Jungkook.” You seek out his gaze. “I have not stopped thinking of you since I left. I… I have only ever felt this way before with the sea.”

“The sea?”

With a nod, you step closer. “I have only ever felt this,” you inhale, “longing for the ocean before.”

Gaze darkening, Jungkook stares when your body presses to his. He is so close, your entire body throbs from the pulse of his heart.

“Everything I learn makes me want to know more,” you whisper. “Your kindness, your sincerity, this mark on your cheek.” Finally, you brush the scar with your fingers. “Everything that you are – I want to know more.”

“And what if you find me lacking?” Jungkook’s lips hover over yours. There is such joy to his expression, your legs nearly buckle.

“Impossible,” you say, eyes shining. “I find the opposite more likely.”

Jungkook makes a dismissive sound. “As though,” he exhales, pushing hair behind your ear. “I could ever lose interest in you.”

His hand does not stop. Tentatively, Jungkook trails fingers down your throat, your collarbone and hesitates at your shoulder. Repressing a shiver, you stare brazenly back. Without stopping to think, your hand closes over his and tugs the garment aside.

Jungkook inhales at your exposed skin. As though hypnotized, he bends to brush a kiss to your body. A moan escapes you before you can stop it, clutching his arms to hold yourself up.

“Y/N.” He looks upwards, hunger to his gaze. “What do you want from me?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Truthfully, you do not. You have not the words to describe what you want from him. All you know is you want more; you want him here and now, you do not want to wait.

Jungkook’s thumb brushes over your collarbone. “Is this…?” He hesitates, rethinking his words. “Have you ever…?”

Slowly, you shake your head no.

The idea of loving another is different for merfolk. Marriage is a relatively new concept, introduced through centuries of human interaction. Despite this, your kind has always been monogamous. You refer to the practice as mating, and it is not legally binding. Copulation is also different to your kind – there are theories amongst your people this is where human origin comes from.

Merfolk attain legs while standing above the water. It is in this form you procreate, and this is what merfolk do once they are mated. You have never felt the inclination to be mated and so, you have not tried.

Jungkook’s gaze becomes hesitant. “I don’t wish to do anything before you’re ready.”

“Then, only do as I tell you.”

His gaze darkens. “What would you have me do?”

Boldly, you lift your chin. “Kiss me, Jungkook.”

The request changes something between you. Insecurities banished, Jungkook’s hands slide to your face. He bends, brushing your lips with his and a fervor ignites, deep in your soul. The flames twist and dance, threatening to destroy if you do not give them more.

Feverishly, your lips open with his. Jungkook groans as your tongues slip together, bodies carefully distant until you take a step forward. Crushing yourself to his chest, Jungkook’s hand winds in your hair while the other slides to your back. You cannot breathe; there is no thought aside from this dizzying, drowning need for him.

Breaking away, you tug him along. Kisses softening, you press your lips against his until your knees hit the desk. Jungkook bends, grasping your thighs to hoist you onto the table. His right hand hooks your knee, pulling you forward as your bodies collide. Spread out against him, you can feel the entire tenuous length of his body.

Jungkook’s forehead presses to yours, right hand under your knee and his eyes mostly shut. Your hand slides up his neck, seeking his face. Gently, your thumb brushes his chin, his lips and the scar on his cheek.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter open. “What have you done to me?” His voice is ragged. “I have never… I am not in control around you.”

A smile creases your lips. “Whatever spell you speak of,” you say, stroking his cheek. “It has ensnared me, as well.”

Turning, Jungkook brushes a kiss to your thumb. “Tell me what else you want, Princess.”

“Undress me.”

His eyes widen. “I – are you certain?”

Jungkook sounds strained, as though holding himself back. You appreciate his concern; the clarity of his effort to give you what you want. You wish this to be pleasurable for him, too though. Gently, you move to press your lips against his.

Jungkook melts into the kiss, seeking further reassurance. His tongue turns hot and needy, tracing your own. “I,” he breathes, breaking away. “That is all very well, but Princess…” He pauses. “I cannot say I have been chaste with others before. This is different, though. This is…”

“More,” you finish quietly, threading your fingers in his hair. “I understand.”

Jungkook gives you a searching look. “It might hurt,” he says, softer. “I have heard that from others before.”

“I trust you,” you say, knowing the truth in the statement. Jungkook has your heart more than he might realize.

“And I, you.”

Leaning forward, he reignites the kiss in between you. Nose nudging yours, he parts your lips with his own. Sinking into the sensation, you allow his warmth to pull you under.

“Wait,” Jungkook pants, suddenly breaking away. “I – uh, what about protection?”

Heat singes your veins at the thought. “You don’t have to... worry about that,” you assure him.

Jungkook’s brows knit together. “I don’t?”

“You,” you flush. “You see… Yoongi gave me a few potions before I left. He said that I might have need…”

Trailing off, you wave lamely towards your dresser.

Jungkook’s lips press together, as though fearful of laughter. “Oh,” he murmurs, a darker gleam entering his eyes. Gripping your waist, he pulls you roughly against him. “Do you find a need for them now, Princess?”

Lips parting, your eyes widen at the press of his length to your core. Head floods the willing space between your thighs. Gaze darting lower, you seek out his manhood but see nothing but skirts and trousers.

Gaze snapping upwards, you frown. “Undress me,” you say.

Grasping your thighs, Jungkook lifts you off of the desk. “Not here,” he insists, wrapping your legs tightly around him. Walking across the cabin, he comes to a stop at your bed. “I wish,” he exhales, lowering one knee to your mattress, “I could have you in my bed. It seems awfully unfair for you to keep these memories to yourself.”

“Mm.” Letting go of his neck, you let him lower you to the sheets. “Perhaps one day.”

Jungkook hovers above you, one knee in between yours. “What do you mean?” he asks, curious.

“I didn’t want to say anything until it was certain.” His fingers reach underneath you, so you arch your back. “Not until I knew it was an option, at least.”

Finding your laces, Jungkook loosens these with deft pulls of his fingers. “Y/N.” Sitting back on his heels, Jungkook removes his crown and places this on the floor. “What option? What aren’t you certain of?”

He has stopped undressing you, which you find most inconvenient. “Well.” You prop yourself on both elbows. “I asked Yoongi to look into something for me. He is still learning his magic, you know – his father didn’t have a chance to teach him much. What he can and can’t do is uncertain and I asked him to… Well…”

“You asked him to do what?”

“I asked him if merfolk could transition to human on a more… permanent basis.”

Jungkook pauses, hardly daring to hope. “Is... such a thing even possible?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “There are stories, but I always assumed them to be just that – stories.”

“But if they are not…”

You stare back at him, unwilling to voice it aloud.

Jungkook’s expression changes. “I don’t want you to be anything you aren’t, Y/N.”

“I know,” you murmur. “I would still be me with fins or with legs, though. This way... at least we have options.”

He stares at you silently, at war with himself. If the possibility is not certain, it is hard to let himself hope. But if it is – lowering his head, Jungkook presses his lips against yours. The gesture contains all the intimacy of a promise. He hovers over you for a moment, not opening his eyes.

“Jungkook.”

He opens his eyes.

“Why am I still in this dress?”

His lips quirk; a humor quickly dispelled. “How rude,” Jungkook drawls, hands sliding beneath you. “In Paralian, those who question the King are punished.”

Rather than be a deterrent, the words send an ache to your core. You would like to be punished by him. “Are they?” you whisper, arching a brow. “This seems the very kind of thing I was sent here to stop.”

With a chuckle, Jungkook pushes himself to his knees. Grasping your ankles, his hands slowly slide up the hem of your skirt. With each inch of skin revealed, his gaze becomes focused. Candlelight illuminates the long length of your legs, crimson silk draped around them. Lowering his head, Jungkook presses a kiss to your knee.

Quietly, he inhales. “I have often imagined,” he says, gaze flicking upwards. “The taste of your body beneath me.”

You have no response – indeed, all words die in your throat.

Grasping your waist, he pulls you into a seated position. “Up,” Jungkook demands, lifting your arms overhead.

When you hold them in place, he tugs your dress off. The lace of your bustier remains, but the shape of your body is obvious, seated before him.

Without further ado, Jungkook lowers his lips to your jaw. From there, he trails kisses down the slope of your neck. Mouth brushing your breast, he admires the way you peak at his touch. Repeating the gesture, he glances up from your skin. Blowing gently over your nipple, he watches you harden. Slowly, Jungkook closes his lips over the peak.

Arching beneath him, you release a small gasp of pleasure. Jungkook’s hand cups your breast, keeping you still while he sucks over the lace. Depths, you have never experienced something like this before. His tongue swirls against you, making you clutch at the bed. Knees rising to cage his waist, you wantonly press your body to his.

“J-Jungkook,” you moan.

Head lifting, he smirks at your expression. Rather than stop, he merely switches to the other breast. All common sense drifts as an indescribable need takes over your body. Arching against him, the space between your thighs grows uncomfortably wet, despite you being on land.

Panting, Jungkook breaks from your breast. The lace of your bustier is obscenely damp from his sucking, licking and swirling. It makes your core ache, but he does not stop there. Hands stroking your body, Jungkook’s gaze travels towards the apex of your thighs.

“What else do you want from me?”

“Your shirt,” you say, grasping the material. “Take it off.”

His eyes glint but he obeys, sitting back on his heels to pull this overhead. Toned, tan muscles are revealed by the motion. Staring at him, you rub your legs slowly together. There is an unbearable friction which makes you ache to be filled.

Jungkook’s gaze drops to your thighs. “I want to see you,” he confesses. “All of you.”

Nodding, you begin to undo the buttons and laces. Paralian women certainly take pride in making things as difficult as possible. When he grows impatient, Jungkook joins you to help. His fingers rip at the lace, making you laugh as more skin is revealed. Well, if he has no respect for the garment, neither do you.

When the bodice is shoved from your shoulders, Jungkook can only stare. His touch becomes gentler, spanning your waist and stroking your thighs. Tugging the bodice from your legs, he leaves you naked beneath him, but for the sea air.

“Sails,” Jungkook whispers, staring at you. Gaze darting upwards, he seeks out your own. “May I kiss you, Y/N? I promise it will feel good.”

Roughly, you nod.

Inhaling, he lowers himself to his front. Turning his head, Jungkook presses a lone kiss to your knee. Moving higher, he drifts towards the source of your tension. At the apex of your thighs, he hovers before pushing your legs apart. Watching him do this, your heartbeat quickens.

When he looks up, his gaze is dark and hungry. Slowly, Jungkook drags a finger up your slick center. The digit comes away wet and, while you watch, he places this on the tip of his tongue. Jungkook sucks, keeping his gaze firmly on yours.

“Oh,” you breathe, uncertain why you like this so much.

He smiles, unrepentant and lowers himself further. He starts off slow, placing soft kisses along the edge of your folds. His lips move up and down, getting you used to the warmth of his mouth. When you relax, Jungkook adds the flick of his tongue. Short, teasing bursts while he eases you forward.

When his tongue sweeps higher, over a forbidden place, you jolt from the pleasure. Jungkook halts, glancing up from your thighs. “Did that feel good?” he asks, sounding strained.

His lips are wet with arousal and while you watch, his tongue darts sideways to lick up his mess. Groaning, you spread your legs wider. “Please,” you beg, not caring how you sound. “I need more.”

With a smirk, Jungkook lowers his head. Now, he does not tease. Now, he buries himself closer to seek out your pleasure. His tongue moves roughly against you, tracing circles to draw moans from your lips. It soon becomes too much, body shaking beneath him. Everything feels heightened, on edge and spiraling out of control.

Jungkook slows in response, pressing soft kisses against the mound of your sex. When you cry out, you have no idea what you need, but Jungkook reads your body and responds to the motion. When he has you limp, begging beneath him, his fingers trail down to your sex. Sucking hard on your mound, he sides a finger inside you, forcing you apart at the seams.

This is what it feels like – a shuddering wave of pleasure which drags you under. Your vision pulses, darkening as you arch on the bed. Jungkook guides you though it, kissing and licking as you come down from your high.

Grasping the sheets tight in both hands, you open your eyes. The ceiling above you is the same and yet, everything is different. Your body feels loose and tight at the same time, unbearably sensitive. Jungkook drops a kiss to your thigh and looks upwards.

“Did you like it?” he murmurs.

“I – depths,” you swear, still catching your breath.

He smiles, eyes crinkling adorably. Pushing himself upwards, Jungkook hovers over your body. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, lips brushing your cheek.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Some women don’t like –”

Bringing his lips to yours, you silence his question. He tastes different, salty but you like it, tongue hesitantly brushing his lips. Jungkook kisses you eagerly, lips molding to yours – which is when you feel his length, hard against your thigh.

Pulling away, you glance down. Jungkook still is wearing his trousers but even so, you see evidence of his arousal. Your body still feels pleasantly buzzed, but you find your need far from being satisfied. Somehow, it feels worse. To have had Jungkook’s mouth, his finger inside you – you cannot stop wondering what else there is.

Slowly, your gaze lifts to his. “Take off your pants.”

Jungkook’s brows rise. “But… we just…”

“Jungkook.” Lacing his fingers with yours, you bring both your hands to rest between your thighs. His eyes turn glassy at the mess he just made. “I want you – all of you.”

Instantly, Jungkook pushes himself back on the bed. Stripping himself of his trousers, they join your dress and his crown on the floor. When he is fully naked, you prop yourself on your elbows to drink him in. Jungkook’s cheeks flush; lips wet from your body, dark hair falling into his gaze.

Between his legs is his cock. It looks just as it felt, pressed against your thigh – thick, veined and hard to the touch. Reaching out a hand, you brush your thumb over the tip.

Jungkook shudders, catching your hand in his. “Unless,” he pants, clenching his jaw. “You wish me to come undone right now, I would advise not doing that.”

Staring at him in amazement, you realize how badly he wants you. Jungkook grips himself with one veiny hand, squeezing his length as a bit more pre-cum seeps out.

“Clearly,” he murmurs, “you see how much I want you. It’s more than that, though.” Shifting, Jungkook presses his body to yours. He inhales deeply, feeling your skin against his. “My feelings haven’t changed, Y/N. When I’m with you, I feel –”

“Complete,” you echo, brushing your lips with his. “Jungkook. I want you like this.”

Nodding, he kisses you slower. Hand parting your thighs, he savors the mess he just made. “You’re so wet,” he moans, sighing in satisfaction.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Mm. Very good,” he says, sinking a finger inside you.

Gasping, you grip his arms tighter. It feels tight but good, your body clenched around his. Jungkook stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust. When he moves, he goes slow, curling his finger inside you. When you moan out his name, he adds another finger.

The second one hurts a bit more. Jungkook seems concerned, but you shake your head and urge him to continue. He obeys and before long, it feels just as good as the first finger. Even better – arching satisfactorily, your hunger only deepens.

“More,” you say, head thrown back on the pillow.

Lowering his head, Jungkook kisses your throat. When he does, he slides in a third finger. You groan, clenching hard around him as he pants. “You’re so tight, Y/N. I – sails, I don’t think you know what you’re doing to me.”

“I can see what it’s doing to you,” you say, wickedly glancing at his cock.

Jungkook’s length twitches, harder than before. He smirks, gently rubbing your clit with his thumb. As you adjust to the feeling, his fingers sink further inside you. When you groan, Jungkook begins scissoring your walls.

Grasping his arms, you roll your hips slowly against him. “Jungkook,” you whine, unable to take any more.

“Yes?”

“Please,” you beg. “Please, I need you inside me.”

When he withdraws, you protest but already, Jungkook aligns his cock at your center. Mouth drying, you stare at the thickness of his length. You thought three fingers would be enough to prepare you but now, you are not certain.

Jungkook presses a kiss to your shoulder and you slowly relax. He will take care of you – you know this. Resting his tip at your center, Jungkook rolls your clit with nimble fingers. When you mewl, arching against him, he slips in an inch.

This is enough for you to gasp, eyes watering from the stretch. “Oh,” you blurt, burying your face in his chest.

“We can stop,” Jungkook pants, beginning to withdraw.

Frantically, your hands move to clutch him in place. “No,” you say, looking up. “Keep going.”

Seeing your determined expression, Jungkook slowly nods. He continues to play with your clit, making you moan as he pushes another inch in.

“Oh,” you groan, arching against him. You feel split, torn by the sensation but it is not unbearable. Indeed, there is an odd mix of pleasure from the wetness you feel.

His fingers continue to play with your sex, making you moan as he slips further in.

“Almost there,” Jungkook murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Halfway and already,” he whispers, hot in your ear, “you’re the tightest, wettest thing I’ve ever had wrapped around my cock.”

His words make your lips part in a daze. It sounds obscene, coming from such lovely lips but you find you want more. Hands sliding into his hair, you open your legs further and Jungkook groans, sinking in. It burns, but less so than before. There is this deep, throbbing need to have him fill you entirely.

“That’s it,” he groans, rubbing your clit. His cock pulses, hot and needy inside you. “Just a little bit more, Y/N. You’re doing so well.”

Hearing his praises, you arch a bit further. Jungkook thrusts deeper with a grunt and you gasp, feeling a last wave of pain. It makes you see stars and you wonder if the dampness between your legs is more than only arousal. Already, it fades from the press of his lips to your skin.

“There,” Jungkook croons, lips tracing your jaw. “That’s it, Y/N. That’s all.”

Clasping him tightly, you slowly adjust to the feeling. His cock is so large, buried in you to the hilt. You have never felt a fullness like this before. Jungkook continues to touch you, tracing your waist, your chest and whispering how lovely you are. Preening at his words, you arch and feel him slip deeper inside.

“Oh!” you blurt in surprise.

“Y/N?” Worried, Jungkook’s gaze snaps to yours. “Are you alright? Does it hurt? I can –”

Grasping his chin, you bring his gaze to yours. “I – do that again,” you say, breathless.

Jungkook’s gaze darkens. Slowly, he withdraws and pushes deeper inside.

“O-oh,” you groan, legs shaking beneath him.

Your body is sore, perhaps a bit overstretched but all this is overshadowed by the thrust of his cock. Seeing the change in your expression, Jungkook pulls back a bit further. Slowly, he aligns and sinks into your center. A low, needy whine is pulled from your lips.

“Harder,” you gasp, clutching his body.

Gaze darkening, he nods. Withdrawing gently, he snaps his hips forward. It feels so good to have him move deep inside you. Jungkook thrusts again, rougher as tension mounts in your body. The sensation is different than before, with his tongue on your clit.

Now, his entire body moves against yours. Now he is fully inside you, urging you to come. His arms gather you close, hooking an ankle over his ass to grind into you deeper. Jungkook thrusts harder, faster and you begin to see stars.

“Jungkook,” you groan, biting down on his shoulder to stifle your moans.

“No.” He thrusts harder. “I want to hear you. Want to hear how you feel, what you want.”

“I want more,” you gasp as he fills you. “Want you harder, Jungkook. Deeper – oh! Oh!”

His name leaves your lips, louder as he fucks into you harder. You are aware the walls of the ship are thin; you should really be quieter, but cannot seem to care. Let them hear. Let them know how badly you want him, how badly he wants you.

Slowing down, Jungkook thrusts into you deeper. His hips roll as he enters, making you feel his whole length. You gasp underneath him, groaning his name when your hips rise to meet him.

“I want you to come like this,” he whispers against your lips. Rolling his hips slowly against you, he makes your toes curl. “Want you to come, soft and moaning. You can scream my name another night.”

“Another night?” you moan, gripping his waist with your thighs.

Nodding, Jungkook presses his lips against yours. His fingers interlace with your own, hips continuing their relentless motion against you. Each time he withdraws, you whimper and each time he enters, you moan. Rolling his hips, Jungkook grinds himself against your clit.

“Mm, another night,” he agrees in between kisses. “Every night. C-come for me, Y/N.”

Hearing how close he sounds, you do not think you could stop if you tried. Clasping him tightly, you fall over the edge. With his name on your lips, you shudder apart underneath him. Jungkook swears, feeling you clench and finally, he lets go. You feel him release, warm cum filling your body with thrust after thrust.

When he is finished, Jungkook half-collapses against you. His lips drag over your skin, messy as he slowly pulls out. Glancing around, he spots a towel on your bedside and reaches to grab it.

“What are you doing?” You blink, shutting your legs on his hand.

Jungkook’s lips quirk at your response. “Cleaning,” he says, gently wiping your body. “The, uh – well, my… I don’t want to make a mess of your sheets.”

Realizing the meaning, your cheeks heat as you open your legs. Jungkook is fast, cleaning himself and lowering the rag to the ground. When he is finished, he resumes looking at you.

“What are you looking at?” you whisper, feeling oddly exposed.

Smiling, Jungkook bends to brush his lips against yours. He lingers and your arms slowly rise, circling his neck and pulling him down. Jungkook’s legs entwine with yours, kissing you gently until he breaks away, breathless.

“What I was thinking…” Pausing, he wraps your fingers in his. “Is that I want this every night.”

“This?” you ask, arching a brow.

Chuckling, Jungkook traces your arm with a finger. He cannot seem to look away, mapping your skin with his gaze. “Well, yes, that. But also, you. In my bed.”

He shuts his mouth and you sense there is more to the sentence but for now, that will do. Lifting your hand, Jungkook slowly kisses each one of your fingers. He lingers on your ring finger, lifting his gaze and, although your heartbeat quickens, he moves on to your pinky.

Lowering your hands, Jungkook interlaces the fingers.

“Stay with me tonight,” you whisper, pressing closer.

He nods, a sleepy smile on his lips. “However long you want me, I’ll stay.”

Paralian character ask game found here

#smutcentralnet #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts fantasy #jungkook fantasy #bts au #jungkook au

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mhdiaries · 4 years

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Wave 4 Robecca Steam Diary

19 September - Then

Our show tonight was a rousing success. My rocket boots worked to perfection after the adjustments father made and I was able to complete the trick in such a way that it elicited gasps from the audience yet remained perfectly safe for me. Father was so pleased that he is allowing me to take tomorrow’s train instead of the one tonight so that I may stay and engage in a round of roller maze. I am so excited my boiler is near to bursting! My only regret is that father was not able to adjust my internal clock before he departed. Well, it is not to be a worry tonight and I am sure he will be able to resolve the problem when we are reunited on the morrow.

20 September - Then

Frost my firebox was I vexed this morning! I missed yet another appointment due to the inability of my internal clock to keep the correct time. Now to be sure there are appointments and there are appointments, and one is to be forgiven if fashionable lateness allows for a grand entrance in the former; but when exacting punctuality is required of the latter, such as catching a train that leaves promptly at noon and your arrival is thirty minutes after the departure of said train, vexation will rule the day. Thus I found myself standing on the station platform with steam raising from my ears and baggage piled high around me. From a distance it must have looked as if some monster had fashioned a cabin of suitcases on the platform and upon finishing their labor celebrated by lighting a fire in the stove. I was obliged to send father a telegraph informing him of my situation and assuring him that I would be on time for tomorrow’s train even if I had to spend the night on the platform. Fortunately, it did not come to that as the gargoyle that drove me from Miss Kindergrubber’s boarding house to the train station was still available to convey me back. My tardiness at the train station will, however, make it possible for me to attend the gala birthday ball being thrown in honor of a Miss Draculaura. She is the daughter of a very famous, and well-to-do vampire, named Dracula. I am excited to have the opportunity to make both of their acquaintances. I was delighted to learn that Dr. and Mrs. Stein had arrived in town on the very train that I missed! Dr. Stein is one of my father’s most respected acquaintances, both he and his lovely bride will be attending the ball and have offered to act as my chaperones so that I do not have to present myself as unattended.

21 September - Then

The party was grander that I could have imagined. Every creature was dressed in their finest and I saw many famous monsters and digniscaries. Draculaura could not have been a more kind or gracious host. I do not know how she knew I missed my train but she did, and was very genuine in her expression of sincere concern for my predicament. I was immediately pulled into her social circle as she introduced me to her friends with such rapidity that I hardly remembered a soul when she was through. Several of them had seen me perform however and were quite keen on hearing my tales of daring to. Eventually I excused myself in order to reunite myself with Dr. and Mrs. Stein, as I did not wish to appear ungrateful or rude for the kindness they had shown in escorting me to the party. I did not see either of them in the crowd so I made my way toward a group of guests where a lively discussion seemed to be under way about what made one a true monster. The most vocal of the group was rather corpulent goblin with pince-nez, prominent teeth and absurdly hairy ears;

Well of course she isn’t and how could she be? A wonder of modern mad science? Perhaps. A true monster? Never. Fashioning the flotsam and jetsam of a laboratory into some semblance of a creature does not make that creature a monster any more so than kittens born in an oven makes them scones. Do you know the old crackpot, genius though he may be, insists on calling her his daughter? Even more preposterous is that she refers to him as her father. As if steam could replace screams.

I felt as though some monster had thrown a handful of sand into my gears and I thought, “Is this what every monster believes?” I was about to turn and quietly slip back into the crowd when I felt a very large but gentle hand on one shoulder and a smaller but reassuringly firm one on the other. Then a voice, at once calming to me and challenging to the speaker said, “Perhaps Herr Goblin would care to pronounce us either kitten or scone then.” I suppose it was un-lady like that I should have enjoyed the panic I saw on his face, as he looked from Dr. Stein to Mrs. Stein to me, but I did. The goblin quickly stammered an excuse and unceremoniously fled the room. Later, Dracula found us and offered his sincere apology. “Miss Steam I regret not that you heard such an insult to your monsterhood but that it was uttered at all. It is not an opinion shared in this house. Please accept our sincere apologies.” We conversed several more minutes and he left to attend other guests. He is indeed a true gentle-monster and the remainder of the gala was so delightful that it all but eclipsed the one brief moment of unpleasantness.

22 September - Then

Today as I was packing to leave under the punctual eye of Miss Kindergrubber, we received word from the railroad station that sometime in the night a very large and rather belligerent dragon had taken up residence in the main train tunnel between here and where I was to meet father. Owing to the dragon’s size and coloration it is believed that it might be preparing for hibernation. If that is indeed the case, I could be stranded here until the spring. Even though plans were being made to send for a dragon whisperer there were no guarantees. Clog my gears and rust my bearings! What shall I do now?

1 October - Then

I passed much of today in the good company of Dr. and Mrs. Stein. I had supposed that Dr. Stein’s scientific curiosity would be drawn to the nuances of my mechanical nature but aside from some polite questions regarding energy consumption most of the conversation centered around my relationship with my father. They had many questions on the resulting challenges of one day waking up as a fully formed monster in her teenaged years and how we dealt with those challenges as a family. I admitted that while the road was not always made for smooth traveling we were learning to navigate the more arduous portions of it together. Several times during these conversations it appeared to me that Mrs. Stein gripped the doctor’s hand more tightly and several times he seemed to be hesitant to ask certain questions. I excused myself at one point to add water to my boiler, as I was feeling a bit low. I returned to hear Mrs. Stein ask Dr. Stein in their native German: “Werden wir jemals ein eigenes kind haben?” to which he replied “Wenn die Zeit gekommen ist, das verspreche ich dir, werden wir es.” I could tell that I had interrupted a private moment so I attempted to change the subject by asking Dr. Stein if he might have an idea why my internal clock could not keep proper time. He laughed at my request and for a moment I felt embarrassed until Dr. Stein said, “It has been my experience that no amount of adjustment is sufficient to make a ghoul run on time.” For this Dr. Stein received a playful tap from Mrs. Stein and he continued, “Besides that, your father is the foremost mechanical mad genius in the world and it would be arrogant of me to speculate.” We ended our time together with a promise to meet again. I am already looking forward to that.

15 October - Then

I received a telegraph from my father this morning informing me that he was joining a team set to explore a newly discovered area of the catacombs. I miss my father and look forward to that dragon moving on so we may be reunited. Tonight however, I shall skate in the maze with a local club against a team of gargoyles with a rather unsavory reputation. I am confident we shall prevail.

20 October - Now

I remember everything that happened to me right up until the last time I skated in the maze. It has been all I could do to daily resist the urge to let my life go to rust. The most difficulty has come from my father not being here. The team of explorers that he joined never returned from the catacombs. It has been a hundred years since any monster has seen them but I know they are still trying to find their way home because Ghoulia Yelps, as amazing and intelligent a ghoul as ever was, has been following any and all news about the team since before I was discovered and reassembled. She says that it is a great mystery and that there have been many books written about their mysterious disappearance. She also told me that six months ago a message was found written on the wall of a previously undiscovered cavern. It read simply, “Forward to our families. Onward to our hope.” It was signed by my father and dated three months prior to the cavern’s discovery. Ghoulia also helped me find my father’s old lab where I was delighted to find Captain Penny, the mechanical penguin father built for me. Poor thing’s fire had completely gone out and when I got him restarted he was so excited that he almost blew a heart gasket. I am still living at Miss Kindergubber’s, who is not a teacher at Monster High, and it was she convinced me to enroll. Even though I feel rather old fashioned and I am unfamiliar with much of current technology my new friends have been very accepting and are... scary sweet.

15 November - Now

I have become reacquainted with Dr. Stein and his bride through their daughter Frankie. Dr. Stein was sincerely apologetic for not being able to reassemble me after the accident. “You are a very complicated ghoul and I feared I would damage you further.” I assured him that I carried no grudge and I do not. Dr. Stein even interceded on my behalf with Headless Headmistress Bloodgood when she told me that I could not perform my scaredevil act at the middle school carnival as she thought it was too dangerous. I do not know what Dr. Stein said but the Headmistress relented and I was able to give two performances with an encore. It was truly an epic way to bring some old school to the new and shake off some of the rust in the process.

#monster high #monster high diary #robecca steam #wave 4

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