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rebelsandtherest · 2 years

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Prodigal: Chapter 2/?

Summary: Two decades on, a reclusive Alfred Jones continues to process the civil war amidst the desolate ranchlands of the Dakotas. A fortuitous turn of fate has landed him a new job with an eccentric but magnetic man.

Warnings: allusion to PTSD Word count: 1766

Tumblr: Chapter 1

Also read on: Ao3 | FF.net (Yes I’m still posting on FF.net don’t @ me I don’t want to hear it, I know I’m old)

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Dear Mattie,

Your wishes for my continued literacy are fulfilled, for even amongst the cattle your dear brother has not gone as completely feral as sources may lead you to believe. I must apologize anyway since my penmanship remains quite terrible even as my fingers heal. They never actually fell off, I'll have you know, but I've been unable to shake the tremor in my writing hand. I do not notice it until I'm trying to press pen to paper. Last time I wrote, I could scarcely sign my own name. I credit your generous gift of the bearskin gloves with warming them back into writing shape.

Truly, I do not know how to thank you enough. I know from looking at them that it must've cost you either a small fortune or substantial personal effort, and in likelihood, both. You are indeed a decent brother, and beyond that perhaps the best brother a man could ask for. Your generosity was witnessed by the innkeeper in town, who collects the local mail and insisted upon seeing the contents of the package. If you ever get it in your head to visit me here, I'm not entirely sure she won't try and trap you in a frontier marriage. I told her you worked for Victoria, and she thought you must be a knight. I've told you this only to cheer you up, and I hope it does not go to your head.

As for the east, my answer remains much the same as last time we spoke in person. I feel neither despair nor great hurt when I now look eastward, but there remains a bone-deep discomfort that I cannot overcome. It itches and burns, like poison ivy or mosquitos, and the city noise—for the entire coast now seems to be one long city, by God!—keeps me up at night. Besides all of this, there is the more practical matter of my government, whom I fear may want to lock me up again as soon as they have their hands on me. It's an awkward enterprise, re-approaching your own people after a whole generation.

I met some truly inspiring people in New York, last I was there, Edison included. However, the prospect of unexpectedly meeting officials who might know my face from the many secret "wanted" memos—I find it insulting they think I don't know about those—that have circulated Washington in the last few decades makes even the streets of New York feel like an open noose.

I apologize for not communicating about my visit so we might see each other. The trip itself was an impulsive idea when news of Edison's plans reached us here on the eve of the actual event. While on the train, I concocted a plan to travel on to visit Ottawa so that I might surprise you, but after just two days in New York my latent discomfort became so intense I found myself in a horrible panic—the sort of illness left in the mind after a war, or so I've been told—and found myself so desperate to escape I gave up my plans. You know me well enough it should not surprise you that I was too embarrassed to tell you at the time. Three years later, I regret my own cowardice because I miss you dearly. I want very much to hug you and also to see if the insidious rumor that you have grown taller than me bears any semblance to reality. I say you've been wearing tall shoes, and using my absence to spread falsehoods while I am unable to prove you wrong!

One day, I will go back east, to you and yes, to my own government. However I do not know when my heart will allow it. I know this is a dissatisfying answer for you. In the meantime, I shall remain here in the Dakotas, and I hope you shan't worry yourself too much on my account.

To reassure you of my well-being, I should share the goings-on of my life of late. I don't believe I've told you how our fish-out-of-water Marquis fired me last year. Suffice to say he is a rich man who cares more about capital than the well-being of his staff. I defended a young boy from the Marquis' ire after a costly accident with one of the bulls, and employed some language for which I'm sure you would scold me in public and compliment me in private. He told me to leave and never to return, and so I have been quite poor overwinter.

I wish you to know, for it should tell you all you need to know about this man, that he and his family evacuate the continent when winter comes.

However, my luck has recently changed, and I've found employment with a man so much the opposite of the Marquis it seems almost a divine joke! He is one of mine by way of New York, and has apparently abandoned his upper class city life and a career in municipal politics to become a rancher. Perhaps this sounds like an American version of the Marquis' own story, but indulge my gossip a little longer. This man—Roosevelt is his name—is unlike any New Yorker I've ever met!

When I first met him, he was on horseback and out in the fields, so I thought he was one of the ranch hands. I approached him asking if he knew where I might find the landowner, and if he was looking for a cowboy to look after his stock. Upon my inquiry, he smiled and laughed, and introduced himself as the landowner himself. Afterward, I was embarrassed I hadn't deduced as much, for he dresses in over-embellished, caricatured versions of what we wear out on the ranges, and does not hold himself atop his mount with a great deal of confidence. (In my defense my expectations of landowners has been tinted by the Marquis and his frilly European sensibilities). Apparently, Roosevelt has only recently learned to ride, and was until just last year, unfamiliar to the style of saddles used here. And yet there he was, out by himself on his land as though he himself were preparing to drive cattle to market, notwithstanding that he would be months too early. The Marquis of the Badlands would never!

He also wears lenses, and is apparently quite blind without them. I mentioned that I benefit from lenses as well, but had lost my only pair some years ago. Well now I've learned he wrote to his man in New York to make me a new pair. I insisted on paying for it myself, but he's bullied me into only paying half.

"Every man alive should be able to see nature in all its detail," is what he told me. "When one can see the details around oneself, it inspires the pursuit of exploration, and the improvement of oneself through new disciplines and exercise. And that is a kind of manliness I think everyone should aspire to. Besides," and after such casual philosophizing, it took me a moment after this to realize he was jesting when he said, "I should like you to be able to see the cattle as you work them. To lose cattle for want of spectacles seems to me the sort of misfortune we ought to leave to children's stories."

He does have children, I've learned—or rather one child. Alice is her name, and she is only just a year and a half old. I did not press him on the matter of abandoning his family for the Badlands, and I'm glad I didn't. I've since learned from the other hands that this poor man gained a daughter but lost his wife as well as his mother all in the span of two days. His sojourn westward seems to be the endeavor of both a vigorous outdoorsman and heartbroken man. Perhaps it is my own recent history that drives me to sympathize with his choice to grieve out here, where solitude and nature abound.

He's hired a few more cowboys after myself, and has so far treated us all fairly. There is little shelter for either him or us at the moment, and we rely on tents and lean-tos, and he awaits the completion of a cabin on the property. To his credit, he stays in a tent rather than at the inn, although I'm confident he could buy every room if he desired. I tell you Mattie, in the last century I'm not sure I've ever met someone so unfamiliar with frontier life and yet so enthused by the very hardships that send the Marquis packing for France each year. He lives each day as though existence itself is some kind of grand challenge to experience as many things as he can before time can get the better of him. It is impossible for any person to be so many things in a single lifetime—even for you and I! But I daresay Roosevelt is going to try anyway, if for no other reason than to keep God on his toes.

I was afraid a few weeks ago I would be driven east out of necessity, unable to maintain anonymity in the broad rumor mill of ranchlands, and perhaps that would have forced me back into the world to which you've asked me to return. Even so, if my news of remaining west disappoints you, I hope you may take solace in the fact I've acquired a tireless philosopher of an employer who may yet badger me toward self-betterment even more doggedly than you.

Perhaps your eyes are crossing by now from the disorganized novella I've just penned you—and in horrible handwriting no less, many apologies should you need to adjust your lenses on my account. My hand is beginning to shake again, so I must end my letter abruptly before all words become illegible. I hope that spring will find you quickly and well, and that you might begin your annual thaw sooner rather than later. You'd mentioned a while ago that Arthur had intentions to send you to New Zealand to escape the cold, and if that indeed came to pass I hope you and our young sister fared well. I dearly hope to see her again her one day. As for this sibling, I cannot rectify my shortcomings in the present, but ask you to hold out hope for me a while longer.

God keep you, with warmest affection (I mean this in the literative as well as the figurative sense),

Alfred

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1. The term “Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder” or PTSD was not yet coined, but we all know our boy Alfred has been wrestling with it for a while at this point.

2. Here is where I must confess I am largely inventing the personality of the Marquis to suit his narrative purpose of a foil to Roosevelt, but it is 100% true that he and is family went back to France each winter! In an area of the continent where both your hardiness and your dedication to the land and the town is measured by how many winters you’ve survived, this was, I’m sure, sneered at quite a bit.

3. Teddy Roosevelt, for all his obsession with “manly” pursuits and rugged outdoorsmanship, was actually quite a sickly child. He suffered profound myopia (nearsightedness) at an early age, and the acquisition of corrective lenses affected so much that throughout his life, he was invested in the support of disabled children, as he understood how much difference corrective or assistive aids could change a life. Additionally, Roosevelt was also quite asthmatic, and was bullied mercilessly as a child for his physical/medical challenges. I believe his asthma was more acute in childhood and adolescence, but persisted throughout his life. Lacking the treatments we rely on today, Teddy decided the best way to treat asthma was through exposure therapy, spite, and sheer willpower. Hey, it may not be medically sound advice, but it seems to have worked out well for him.

4. In February 1884, Roosevelt’s first wife, Alice Hathaway Lee, gave birth to their daughter, also named Alice. Unfortunately, the medical symptoms of pregnancy had masked the fact that she was suffering from kidney failure, and she died two days after her daughters birth. In completely unrelated medical circumstances but in the same house, his mother died of typhoid fever less than a day before his wife passed. This date in Roosevelt’s diary is a simple entry: “The light has gone out of my life.”

5. Roosevelt at this time was obsessed with the idea of becoming a cowboy, and while he certainly didn’t impress with his skills and had to be taught nearly everything from how to ride in a western saddle to how to throw a lasso, he nevertheless earned the respect of actual cowboys because he was eager to learn and apply himself to even the more unpleasant rigors of the lifestyle.

#hetalia #historical hetalia #aph america #hws america #aph canada #hws canada #historical figures #my fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction

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hazzabeeforlou · 1 year

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Hi, I’m Toni.

Got a slew of new followers and I’ve been almost inactive the last half a year (at least) so wanted to do an update/intro so you know who I am LOL and so my long suffering fandom besties know what the fuck’s been going on (if anyone still cares rip sorry it’s been forever)

Currently writing this from my sick bed of ear cellulitis? That I got from wearing my mask? It would literally only happen to me. Had to go to urgent care and get a butt shot of antibiotics so it didn’t, you know, spread to my bloodstream :)

Anyways I say that to say that I probably got sick in the first place because I’m incredibly run down right now. The classical music world (im a professional musician) FINALLY opened up again, and to meet gig demands I only work my pandemic retail job once a week. I have been traveling the last four weekends in a ROW, which, due to my chronic pain (which has seen SOME improvement over the last year!!) makes me super duper exhausted and I have to admit tik tok has been getting most of my brain numbing time.

Life post-happy drugs has been tough. I’ve seen improvement in the areas I wanted to, physically, but mentally god. Drugs were nice. Anywho, I’ve done a ton of witchy/ancestral connecting/herbalist kinda things the last six months, and I now have an alter and a spiritual practice that has really brought me a lot of growth and meaning. It’s hard healing from your past when you’re still living IN it… and there’s no improvement with my parents. They’re still homophobic as hell and Republican as fuck, despite screaming matches. The threats of physical violence prevent me from confronting my dad any further. I’ve kind of given up hoping they will ever change.

It’s funny though, I would classify this year as the year I started to “feel” things, and of course that happened physically post the drugs, but also emotionally once I started to let myself FEEL emotions, god what a train wreck. Who knew humans could CRY so much? That emotional revelation led to the probably overdue realization that I’m likely Autistic and high masking, and have been suffering from that classic 30’s wall that “gifted girl high masking autistic children” eventually hit wherein they are no longer able to just push through and ignore. That’s been tough.

Writing has always been how I process and understand emotions, and now that I’ve started to actually FEEL them, it hasn’t become as essential to my functioning as it had been the last six or so years. I miss it, and I plan on finishing all my projects I left behind… as I’ve said many time The Garden part 3 IS coming I promise lol. But! Hopefully. And no promises. But I have the most delightful Christmas fic tucked into my head that I would love to publish this year, if I can find the time to get it on paper.

Okay as for fandom… I did a “growth thing” earlier this year and deleted all the bbygate stuff I’d been saving for the inevitable end. I just can’t anymore. All the photoshop, the blatant exploitation of it all… yeah I think the best option is just not to care. If they’re gonna drag this out for the rest of my life then I’m going to ignore the shit out of it. Speaking of ignoring, I also noped out of the H and O nonsense. God. What a MESS. I liked HH, truly, but the fave for me was Matilda. To be honest with you all, I listened until I grew naturally full of the album and I moved on with my life, it wasn’t world changing to me the way FL was. HOWEVER. FITF? Lord save me i didn’t even know it was coming out and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I’m fucking obsessed. I’m planning a MP. I genuinely think it’s Louis’ finest work and I can’t get enough of it. Every time I listen I like it MORE. I theorize it’s going to be a slow blooming album that smacks everyone’s expectations in the face. I’m so fucking proud of Louis. I bawled real ugly tears at Common People.

And lastly as always, I believe the boys were in love but I make no claims about their lives now. I enjoy the hints and speculation and love larrying along, but I think they’ve established these personas that are bulletproof to fan speculation these days, and I feel that’s how they truly want it. And that’s cool, won’t stop me from writing Larry because it was the truest gayest baby Star crossed lovers story out there and still makes the best fan fic.

Apologies for the novel but nice to meet you if you’re new HI I’M TRYING TO BE BACK to my old chums, and feel free as always to talk to me, my ask box is always open ❤️

#mine #personal #hiiiiii guys

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carinavet · 2 years

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Here’s my personal review of the Aurora Cycle that nobody asked for, written mostly for @reshiramgirl88, but it got way too long so I guess y’all get to see it too. Overall conclusion: There was a lot about it that I really, really loved, but there were also several things that I really, really hated. The “really hated” section is going to be longer than the “really loved” section, but that’s mostly just because it’s easier to rant about specific things you hate than to put words to overall things you loved enough that you want to just verbally keysmash.

(Lots of spoilers for all three books to follow.)

To begin: Things I really, really loved:

Literally everyone.

No, seriously. There are eight POV characters, each with a unique voice, personality, and perspective, and they did a fantastic job of making you love every single one of them in a different way. Each chapter/perspective transition was exciting rather than tedious. And each person was exactly the person needed for this mission while still being flawed, three-dimensional characters. (Actually sort of four dimensional, in most cases.)

[Sidenote: The audiobook was the best-made I’ve ever listened to, with eight narrators for the eight POV characters, and special effects for each use of a radio, comms, speaker, etc.]

Having Zila be the one to prepare the Legion/the gifts.

It’s a great way to have this setup of the Legion knowing about the Ra’haam -- and knowing exactly what Squad 312 needs to do in the fight against the Ra’haam -- while giving that constriction that explains why this one tiny squad of teenagers are the only ones doing anything about this massive threat, why Cat couldn’t be saved even though her fate was known ahead of time, why some things were known but others weren’t, and makes it so that foresight doesn’t remove the stakes. It also works especially well because Zila as a character was already established as being someone who pays attention, someone who calculates, someone who will remember. Add to that the little touch of having her meet Nari before she decides to stay in the past (especially since her gift to herself was essentially just a message saying pay attention to this person), and it makes that decision bittersweet rather than just bitter.

Just the general overall tone.

Sorry, but this one’s going to be a bit nonspecific. It’s just a fun story overall, particularly Aurora Rising. Adventure! Romance! Superpowers! Space! Woohoo!

Things I really, really hated:

I’m pretty sure the authors have never even heard the word “subtlety”.

“There is no love in violence.”

“I’m not alone. I’m never alone.”

“I can’t do this alone.”

“Love is all that matters.”

“If you burn away love, what’s left?”

OH my GOD i GET IT already! You really don’t have to knock me over the head with the theme for the entire third book. I’m smart. I can figure it out. Jeez.

The Unbroken.

This one is sort of a combination of the complete lack of subtlety (”Tears are for the conquered.” “Mercy is for the week.” “I was born with the taste of blood in my mouth.”) and just ... bad worldbuilding.

[Okay, so caveat: This one also pokes at something that I, personally, have come to really, really hate in stories: I hate plot points that revolve around people being just straight-up stupid and selfish -- mostly stupid. I prefer enemies like the Ra’haam where the central conflict is one’s mode of being, and conflicting core needs.]

The bad worldbuilding comes in because they aren’t even good at being a war clan. For one, their sense of warrior’s honour is pretty fucked up if they think it’s fun to throw an unarmed dude into a fight with a giant monster rather than giving him a fair fight and a chance to prove himself. But the worst bit is how they treat their own people from different clans. It might have been different if all Syldrathi were Warbreed, but what is even the point of having a single clan for your warriors if their job isn’t to protect the other clans so that they can do their jobs in peace? They didn’t even give any hint of conflict between the Warbreed and the other clans -- or literally anyone else! --prior to the peace agreement with Earth, but all of a sudden wanting peace with this one particular enemy that’s only been around for like a half a generation is enough of an offense of treachery to destroy your own homeworld? What the fuck, dude?

Saedii and Caersan’s total lack of character development.

This ties into the general irritation with the Unbroken, but it’s also more than that. Caersan needed more background development: A tiny hint of “he burned it all away” and “also oh yeah his dad was like that too” just isn’t quite sufficient for his general importance to both the plot and the characters he interacted with.

Especially because he opts to completely ignore the threat of the Ra’haam while literally tearing himself apart for petty revenge. He never gives any indication of where or how he learned that the Eshvaren were the “Makers”, or that they created the other races solely to fight the Ra’haam, or why they even thought it was a good idea to create other sapient races to kill the Ra’haam when they’d already died out so there literally weren’t any stakes left? But spite towards the Eshvaren does not eliminate the Ra’haam as a real and present threat, and supposedly Caersan isn’t stupid. But he still says, “Nah, killing a bunch of civvies is more important.”

Saedii, too. She needed more “on-screen” changes to her personality and priorities. She went from being stubbornly Unbroken for like an entire novel and then some, to showing up at the last minute to save Aurora Station, with nothing in between. Sure, Tyler planted some seeds there, but she gave no hint of them sprouting until suddenly she’s had a complete change of heart that we never got to witness. Again, if they’d done as much as had her say, “I can’t do anything useful until I have all of the Unbroken firmly under my command,” that would have been different. But no, posturing is what’s more important.

Saedii’s lack of character development is also made worse in contrast to how well everyone else is written. Cat gets “I love you, and so we love you” but all Saedii ever gets is “I am a Templar of the Unbroken.” Even in the last scene when she joins the rest of them at the “table” she just ... feels really flat.

“Burn it all away.”

Again, lack of subtlety combined with personal pet peeve: I’m just sick of the whole “Love is a weakness.” “No, love is a strength!” arguement bashing me over the head in every goddamn story.

The Ra’haam’s ending.

I’m going to start this by saying I actually really did love the moment when Aurora realized that brute force wasn’t going to work against the Ra’haam. I loved her allowing herself to be assimilated into the collective in order to spread her own ideas throughout. I loved that the Ra’haam truly did love everyone it wanted to assimilate, but just had a fucked-up idea of what love was.

But then the Ra’haam’s acceptance of individuality means that they have to leave the galaxy for some reason? Now that we’re both us and me, we’re just gonna go ... float in space for the rest of time? What the fuck?

It would have been so much cooler if the Ra’haam had just joined the rest of the galaxy at large. Like, “Okay, we learned our lesson, you don’t have to join but you still can if you want to. In the meantime I’m going back to selling cabbages, and I’m going to be a therapist, and I’m...” Can you imagine the rest of the galaxy adjusting to that? How does everyone get over the mistrust? How do you talk to your coworker who’s part of a hive mind? Can you be friends with them? Can you date them? How would Tyler talk to someone who definitely wasn’t Cat but also still sort of was?

And what sort of life might Auri have led if she hadn’t lost both her powers and her connection to the Ra’haam? She’s already starting mostly from scratch with the whole girl-out-of-time thing. But she’s spent the last, what, months? year? stretching her new mental muscles, learning to reach so far beyond herself, connecting herself to all the people she loves, and then suddenly she’s even bigger with so many other people connected to her and then -- cut off. Just Aurora again, trapped back inside her own body. It would have been way cooler to watch her continue to grow and learn. She worked so hard to earn her abilities, and I would have loved musing about how she uses them in her everyday.

#the aurora cycle

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irrealisms · 3 years

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c!Tommy is annoying (and that’s important)

I have... a lot of feelings about c!Tommy in s2, from the start of the exile conflict through the Green Festival. I also think the fandom tends to mischaracterize him--I know I’m guilty of this, and as a c!Tommy lover I’ll be mostly addressing a thing that I and other people who love his character don’t focus on as much--which makes me sad because the aspects of his character that tend to get glossed over are also some of the ones that are most personally meaningful to me. (rest of the post is /rp, because “c!” gets annoying to type.)

Specifically: Tommy is loud. He’s abrasive. He’s annoying. He threatens, he griefs, he steals. He lies, blatantly, all the time. He tends to be self-centered (despite being deeply selfless). He lashes out at people who are trying to help him.

He is, in short, a bad victim.

And this is precisely what makes him vulnerable.

Some people on the server were opposed to and sad about exile, sure. But a lot of people? Thought it was funny, that it was natural consequences, that it was deserved. Sapnap came and laughed, Technoblade came and laughed, Lazar came and laughed, Quackity came and laughed. Now, we don’t know what would have happened if Ranboo was the one being isolated and abused; maybe it would be the same. But I don’t think it would have been. A lot of characters have issues with Tommy or simply find him unpleasant to be around, and I would imagine that a significant number of them were probably, on some level, kind of relieved that he wasn’t their problem anymore. To be clear, I don’t entirely blame them for this! Tommy is... a lot, and they (mostly) didn’t know the full extent of what Tommy was going through. Even those of them that tried to visit with good intentions often got their gifts burned and called “pity gifts”, got insulted or yelled at by Tommy, etc.--or in Jack Manifold’s case, actually killed! The first time I watched the leadup to exile arc, I found Tommy difficult to sympathize with at first--he lied to L’Manberg before his trial; he refused to cooperate with probation while he was on it, even though Tubbo was pushing for it as an alternative to exile; at the beginning of exile, he would sometimes log on to visitors, drive them away, and then complain that he was lonely. As much as it’s obviously ultimately Dream’s fault, it’s easy to look at Tommy and not feel much sympathy for his position or feel that it’s partially self-made. It’s easy for outsiders to look at a Tommy who isn’t stealing, isn’t griefing, who is comparatively quieter, who isn’t their problem anymore, and be relieved rather than concerned.

Exile arc makes it obvious that they’re wrong.

(Incidentally, I have a lot of sympathy for what Dream’s going through in the prison.)

And not only are they wrong, but exile makes the consequences of this painfully, horrifyingly clear: the abuse gets worse, Tommy gets more and more depressed, and at the climax of it all Tommy attempts suicide.

(Although notably to me, he’s not the stereotypical victim during exile arc, either--he doesn’t cry on stream, he’s still trying to make dumb jokes, he’s not strategic, he refuses to listen to people, he switches wildly between fight and fawn responses without much correlation with who he’s talking to or how he’s being treated.)

Tommy’s recovery arc, after all of this, starts with him stealing valuables from Technoblade, building a secret basement underneath the existing basements, and then loudly asserting that it’s his house and Technoblade is trespassing.

I could talk about how these things are rooted in trauma. I could talk about how his constant eating of golden apples comes after a period of food insecurity, appetite/disordered eating problems, and physical abuse. I could talk about how he’s regained some of his energy after a period of depression but has nowhere to let it out in a small basement room. I could talk about how he repeatedly annoys Technoblade--quite probably the best PVPer on the server--perhaps in part as a test of how far he can go before he gets abused again, and in part as a sign that he feels safe enough to be annoying without being abused.

But that’s... not the heart of it, at least not to me. The heart of it is that before exile, Tommy would have stolen from Technoblade without a second’s thought, and during exile, Tommy didn’t steal from Technoblade because “Dream wouldn’t like it”, and afterwards, he steals from Technoblade again.

Sure, he’s being annoying. But more importantly, he’s being himself again. Before exile, I might have rolled my eyes, because Technoblade worked for those potions and golden apples and armor and so on, and Tommy’s totally ruining his chest organization system. After exile? I cheered. Tommy’s being Tommy again. And, yeah, that means that he’s being annoying, he’s stealing, he’s ruining dramatic moments. So what? None of that stuff is actually all that bad, in the grand scheme of things. He’s not depressed, he’s not suicidal, he’s not being abused. He’s a teenager and he’s having fun. Technoblade will tease him for it, but he won’t hit Tommy, won’t take his stuff, won’t threaten him, won’t isolate him any further. That’s what a proportionate response to finding Tommy annoying looks like: teasing.

I’d also like to address one more thing, which... I couldn’t figure out how to fit in the rest of the post, but it felt incomplete without it. Right before the meeting that ends with Tommy pulling out Spirit, Tommy asks everyone what the plan is, and is basically told that the plan is for him to be quiet. He says “you guys, please, for the love of God, you know I’ve watched for this long, I’m not going to be quiet.” He reiterates this throughout the conversation: he can try to be quiet, but it is not, ultimately, as easy for him as “be quiet”. This is also the source of Tubbo’s anger at him-- Tommy can’t do “one simple thing” for him. I’m not claiming Tommy is neurodivergent, but... as a neurodivergent person, Tommy repeatedly saying “I cannot do this thing that is simple for you, I can’t, empirically every time we have tried this in the past it has failed, if you make more plans based on that then they will also fail, have you met me” and having this seen as evidence of me not caring or trying... resonated with me. Which isn’t to say it’s not a flaw--almost all character traits can be flaws in the right (or, well, wrong) situations--but it does show that Tommy has some level of self-awareness about his flaws, which is something I appreciate about him, and it frustrates me when that goes unacknowledged. Tommy knows he’s annoying. He jokes about it. But he can’t actually... turn it off. Whether or not he should (and I would argue that he shouldn’t have to) isn’t even in question: he can’t. This is who he is. The only time we see him less loud and more capable of being obedient is exile, when he’s severely depressed and being abused. That’s fascinating to me, as a character trait!

In my experience, there’s a specific archetype of abuse victims in fiction that is... overrepresented. I can’t quite find the words to talk about it in a way that doesn’t technically include Tommy, but... the ways Tommy is important to me is the ways that (a) he doesn’t fit that archetype (b) not fitting that archetype makes him more vulnerable to abuse. He’s not always easy for other characters to talk to or sympathize with... which makes him uniquely easy to isolate and victim blame. That’s important. I think I tend to downplay Tommy’s annoying tendencies because I want to emphasize his sympathetic traits, and that’s fine, but it’s important to me that... Tommy’s a victim, and he’s annoying. Annoying people can be victims just as much as shy rule-followers can. Not only that: Tommy’s a victim in part because he’s annoying. Him being annoying is a risk factor for abuse, not an excuse for it.

#mcyt #dsmp #dsmp analysis #tommyinnit #dream smp #tommy #meta #any british ants in the chat?#therapists dni #exile arc //#abuse //

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obeymeoasis · 3 years

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Demon Bros React: MC Compliments Them Aggresively

Warnings: A generally thirsty MC, Beel’s react has a brief mention of choking.

Lucifer

It was rare that Lucifer had time off during the afternoon and you were fully taking advantage of it.

Holding hands, you were taking a leisurely stroll around the garden. Every few minutes you stopped to point out a flower or a bug that had caught your eye.

“Ooh Luci, look at this one! It looks like a rainbow! Oh my god, it’s so shiny, I love it!”

You heard Lucifer chuckling at you and turned to ask what was so funny when you stood still in shock at the sight before you. The glow of the afternoon sun illuminated Lucifer beautifully, his black hair almost glowing, his face open and happy, smiling at you. He looked absolutely radiant. And you were going to tell him as much.

“Oh my god Lucifer, what is wrong with you?”

Lucifer’s smile dimmed immediately and his eyes narrowed. “Love, whatever do you mean?” His voice was careful and tense.

“I mean, it is illegal for you to look that good! Oh my god! Do you see you? You look like a greek god like what in the actual world!”

Lucifer’s mouth opened in surprise at your sudden outburst.

“How are you even my boyfriend? Like you’re literally glowing Luci. Oh my god my eyes, you’re too bright I can’t even look at you!”

Lucifer blinked a couple of times as if to clear his head. Slowly a satisfied smirk replaced his confused look and he moved to press a kiss against the back of your hand.

“Love, what on earth has gotten into you today?”

“What, I’m not allowed to compliment my boyfriend?”

“Of course you are, although I’d prefer it if the compliments were given in a more... private place next time.”

“...Fine.”

Mammon

Mammon had apparently made some money in one of his schemes and he practically dragged you to Majolish one morning to go shopping.

Once in the store Mammon had sped off in a flurry of activity, adding clothes to an ever-growing pile before herding you toward the dressing room.

"Wait for me outside, okay? Ya gotta tell me how each outfit looks.”

A few minutes later, Mammon stepped out in a pair of dark jeans that hugged his toned legs and a black v-neck sweater that showed off his collarbone. A thin gold chain adorned his neck and the look was completed with a pair of combat boots.

“Well, whattaya think?”

“Mammon. What the hell.”

Mammon’s shoulders drooped a little. “Not good?”

“Mammon. You look so hot. So fucking hot. Like. A supermodel? An icon? You’re stunning!”

He was beginning to blush and you could see how pleased your compliments made him. “O-Of course you think I’m hot! I’m the Great Mammon! I always look good in whatever I wear.”

He expected you to stop at that point and chide him to be more humble but was surprised when you amped up the compliments.

“You do babe, you really do. Look at how long your legs are! And your arms, oh my god. And your chest, wow, I kinda want to lick your chest right now.”

“MC!” Shocked and a little embarrassed, Mammon fled to the inside of the dressing room, swishing the curtain shut behind him. He could feel his cheeks burning.

“Sorry Mams, I’ll stop if you want me to. But I meant every word.”

“...Please don’t stop.”

Leviathan

You were in his room, cuddled on some cushions, watching a new anime together.

Your head on Levi’s shoulder, you were so comfortable that you were close to drifting off to sleep, until Levi nudged your shoulder. “Sorry, I have to go feed Henry.”

You watched Levi sprinkle food into the large tank, his face illuminated by the soft glow. The bubbles and movement from the tank created dancing patterns on his face. As Levi watched Henry eat, he smiled a soft, private smile, and in that moment he looked ethereal.

“Levi, you’re so beautiful.”

Levi’s head whipped around to look at you. “W-What are you talking about?”

You got up and moved closer until you were inches from his face, studying his features. “I’m serious Levi, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Devastatingly handsome. I could honestly stare at you all day. You are so so beautiful.”

With each compliment, Levi’s mouth grew a little bit wider until he was gaping at you.

“I-Is this some kind of joke? Are you making fun of me right now? Why would you- You know how I feel about-”

“Levi, please. Have a little more faith in me. You know I’d never make fun of you. I’m being completely serious right now when I say that you’re incredibly beautiful.”

Levi thinks his brain might have stopped working.

His face is burning, his body is all tingly, and he can’t get any words out?

“Levi? Come back to me, Levi! Hello?” You’re waving your hand in front of his face but you think he might be broken.

You take his hand and slowly lead him back toward the cushions for kisses and more cuddling.

Satan

Reading with Satan was one of your favorite ways to spend an afternoon.

You sat in opposite armchairs and let the comfortable silence fill the room. The only disturbance would be if either of you wanted to share a line or passage from the book you were reading.

Legs curled against your chest, you watched the flame of the candles make flickering shadows against Satan’s bookshelves.

He tapped you on the shoulder and you turned to see his outstretched hand holding his book.

“Love, look at this line.”

You read in amusement as the hero of the story made a witty joke. "That was a good one-"

You turned and saw Satan, his eyes crinkled in laughter, a light blush dusting his cheeks, his lips bitten in an attempt to hold in a giggle.

"Satan... you're so fucking cute."

Immediately one of his eyebrows cocked in confusion. "What-"

"You are so adorable, wow. I want to squish your cheeks and like keep you inside my pocket or something."

"Love, I am the Avatar of Wrath. I am not... cute."

"Yeah? Well I beg to differ. I call it like I see it and right now, I can see that you are the cutest being I've ever seen in my life. The way your eyes light up and you get all blushy. So adorable, I can't stand it."

Satan seemed to be stunned by your exclamation, his features frozen in a mixture of confusion and shock.

You walked over to him and began pressing kisses against his eyelids, on his cheeks, nose, and then finally, lips. "I'm gonna keep kissing you because you're so cute, okay?"

He ended up tugging you against his chest and holding you in a princess-carry, trying to bury his face in your hair so you couldn't see how flustered he was.

Asmodeus

You were in Asmo's room helping him pick an outfit. Well, more like you were scrolling through your D.D.D. while Asmo went through his entire closet complaining about how he had nothing to wear.

He had some sort of big business meeting coming up with a perfume company who wanted his help in designing their new line of products.

Every outfit so far had been beautiful and Asmo looked amazing in each one, as always. You weren't sure how to help him.

"MC, this next outfit is a little different. It's not really my style but it was a gift from the designer so tell me what you think, okay?"

Asmo swished aside the curtain of his dressing room and walked out in a formal black business suit. The shirt was open at the throat, exposing his delicate neck, and he had added a pink pocket square. A large silver watch shone on his left wrist. His shiny black shoes clicked against the floor as he walked toward you.

"So, what do you think?"

"Asmo... If I'm being honest I kind of want you to pin me against the wall right now."

"Darling! You're usually never this forward."

You stood up and twirled him around. "My god Asmo, you look incredible. You look so sexy and professional. Like a rich CEO or something. Scratch the wall thing, I kinda need you to bend me over your desk."

Asmo had never been more surprised by you, but his shock didn’t last long.

"Do you really like it, MC? Do you like when I wear this sort of thing? I should wear suits more often if it means you talking like that. I love this side of you darling!"

He began stalking toward you until your back was gently pressed against the wall, his arms making a kind of cage around you. “Is this what you pictured, MC?” He began kissing you fiercely and you grabbed onto the lapel of his jacket to keep yourself steady.

“Asmo?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Don’t go to the meeting today.”

Beelzebub

You were in the gym with Beel. He was lifting weights and you were bouncing on a medicine ball next to him.

Even though you didn’t exercise at all, Beel said he liked you being there with him. And since it was such a hot day outside, you didn’t mind spending the afternoon in the cool air-conditioned building.

But despite the chill of the room, Beel’s shirt was soaked with sweat. He was lifting enormous weights and you could see the muscles of his arms straining with the effort.

Beel was, well, absolutely ripped. His arms, legs, and stomach all looked like they had been carved from marble. And you spent enough time cuddling with him to know that his body felt exactly like it looked, solid and incredibly strong.

People who didn’t know Beel personally would have found it hard to believe that the demon with an eight-pack had the personality of a hungry golden retriever.

A grunt from Beel startled you out of your thoughts and you realized you had been staring at him this whole time. Uncomfortable at the way his shirt was sticking to his body from sweat, Beel peeled it off of himself.

“Beel?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re killing me here.”

He looked at you in confusion, worried he had done something. “MC, what’s wrong?”

“Beel, do you even see yourself right now? You literally look like sex on legs. How are you even real? I want to touch you all over. But I also kind of want you to choke me.”

“MC!” Beel cried out in surprise and you could see his neck was flushed. “You know I would never hurt you.”

“I know big guy, I trust you.” You let out a low whistle and reveled in how Beel looked, a combination of pleased and a bit embarrassed. “Beel, you’re so perfect. You look like you could protect me from the world.”

“I would you know,” he whispered. “I want to protect you, I don’t want anything or anyone to hurt you.”

You smiled at him. “I know Beel, and I love you for it.” You let the silence hang in the air for a moment. “But also, can I lick your abs?”

“MC!”

Belphegor

It was a rare occasion that you and Belphie were outside, as you both usually preferred to stay in.

You had both woken up late and decided to stop by a local cafe for some lunch because you were too lazy to cook.

Belphie sat across from you at the small table and sipped his tea delicately while you polished off the rest of your sandwich. You had one of your ankles hooked around his.

He was looking out the window, his face turned toward the side, and you used the opportunity to study his features.

Long black eyelashes framed his piercing purple eyes. His silky dark hair stood out against his pale complexion and your eyes traced the high bridge of his nose, the softness of his lips.

As if feeling your stare Belphie turned toward you with a smirk. “Something I can help you with?”

“Belphie... you’re really pretty.”

You could see that you had surprised him a little with your honesty. “You’re so pretty, Belphie. I know a lot of people would kill to have eyelashes as long as yours. And your mouth looks so kissable. You kind of look like a doll. You’re honestly so gorgeous.”

His face was completely blank for a moment then morphed into a calculating stare. “Are... are you being serious right now?” His gaze suddenly turned cold.

“Why would I joke about something like this? I’m telling you right now that think you’re pretty. You’re beautiful.”

Belphie's voice betrayed no emotion. “Nobody’s ever called me pretty before. Or beautiful.”

“Oh, Belphie.” You took his hand from across the table and pressed a kiss against his palm and then the inside of his wrist, the way he did to you all the time. “I’ll repeat it everyday for the rest of my life if you want.”

He scrunched up his nose and whispered, “Don’t. You’re being embarrassing.” But you could tell he didn’t really mean it by the way the corners of his lips quirked up.

He was mostly silent for the rest of lunch, apparently deep in thought, only nodding occasionally at your comments.

When it was time to leave, however, he reached to hold your hand and didn’t let go the entire way home.

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mikeyinnit · 3 years

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lovebug

Pairing: Wilbur x GN!Reader

Summary: Wilbur was done with love after he lost Sally, but when Fundy introduces him to one of Niki’s friends, things start to change.

Word Count: 2k words

Notes: Songfic!! I said they would be rare and it’s the second fic I post lmao. Inspired by Lovebug by the Jonas Brothers, totally willing to do a part 2 for this one because I have other ideas with other lyrics and stuff

Tagging: N/A

After Sally, Wilbur wasn’t really looking for anyone else to love, in fact, he had given up on love entirely. He had to focus on his son and the nation he was building from the ground up.

Then you came into the picture.

You were a friend of Niki’s, that’s how he met you. Fundy was visiting the bakery and when Wilbur came to get him, he saw you helping the young fox hybrid make cookies. It was such a sweet sight that he took a moment to just enjoy seeing his son have a great time. When he did enter, Fundy introduced the two.

“This is Y/N! They’re one of Niki’s friends. Y/N, this is my dad. He’s single.”

Of course his son would throw him under the bus like that. But you just laughed, and god did you have a beautiful laugh, and held out your hand. A gesture that Wilbur returned with one of his charming grins.

“Fundy’s talked about you all day, I feel like I know you already…” you had trailed off, obviously Fundy only referred to him as my dad, prompting him to give his name.

“Wilbur Soot.”

“Wilbur. It’s great to meet you.”

You gave him your phone number, clearly you were as taken with Fundy as the boy was to you, for him or his son to use anytime. Then you said your goodbyes for the night as you sent them on their way with the cookies you and Fundy baked along with some extra baked goods.

Called you for the first time yesterday

Wilbur hadn’t used your number for a good couple of days. He had been busy with L’Manberg and honestly had barely had time to see his son, let alone the enchanting stranger.

Today was a day that he could actually spend quality time with Fundy, and obviously all of that time at the bakery while he was working just made the young boy want to bake cookies with his dad. Unfortunately, Fundy was very specific with what cookies he wanted to make. The ones he baked with you.

“These don’t taste like the ones Y/N made.” Was said numerous times throughout the night no matter how Wilbur changed the recipe so eventually, he just gave up and called you to figure it out.

“Hello?”

Your voice rang out through the telephone and it instantly felt like all of the stress of this baking night was leaving his body.

“Y/N, it’s Wilbur. We met at Niki’s the other day?”

“Wilbur! Of course. How are you? How’s Fundy?”

Another grin was brought to his face at you almost immediately asking about Fundy, though he didn’t have the chance to respond as the aforementioned hybrid returned from getting more ingredients for the cookies and practically begged his father to put you on speaker so he could talk to you as well.

“Y/N!!”

It was almost like he could hear the smile on your face as you spoke to Fundy. “Fundy! What are you up to?”

“We’re trying to bake cookies but dad can’t make them like you.”

Wilbur heard that laugh again, that beautiful laugh that he first heard at the bakery.

“That’s because your dad probably doesn’t know the secret ingredient that we used to bake those cookies. How about you give the phone back to him so I can let him know and then I’m sure you two will bake the best cookies ever.”

Then the phone was back in his hand and he spoke, “Secret ingredient?”

You grinned as you answered, “I just told him to tell the dough nice things in his life. Some people say speaking love into the dough helps, I don’t know if it’s true or not but he had fun with it.”

It sounded ridiculous, but Wilbur decided to try it.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

This time, Fundy thought the cookies were perfect.

I finally found the missing part of me

You became a big part of his routine after that night. He would see you at the bakery every time he came to get his son, he called you even when he was at work, you quickly became an important part of his life. Fundy loved you, days together often involved him telling Wilbur all about whatever the two of you got up to.

Wilbur wasn’t a stranger to love, he loved Sally, he loved his country, he loved his son. But it felt very different with you. He couldn’t even say it was love yet, you just felt like you fit with him and Fundy. You were kind, and obviously cared about his son, you were funny, the texts and calls he exchanged with you never failed to put a smile on his face. And you cared about his son a lot, which was certainly not a negative. For the two of them, it felt like you were the perfect fit to the puzzle they didn’t realize was missing a piece.

I felt so close but you were far away

Getting used to having you in his routine meant it really sucked when you traveled to a village far away. Fundy missed you and honestly, Wilbur did too. You promised the young boy that you wouldn’t be gone for long, and told him that he was welcome to call you at anytime. Which Fundy took full advantage of. Every night before the young fox hybrid went to bed, he called you on Wilbur’s phone and the two of them heard about your day and they shared details of their own. On certain nights, you even joined Wilbur in singing a lullaby for him.

People say that absence makes the heart grow fonder and that absolutely seemed true with your trip. Both of the boys missed you and wondered when you would be back, but luckily, you came back within a month. And you came back with plenty of gifts for Fundy, which made the boy ridiculously happy. You even got a gift for Wilbur, which was certainly a pleasant surprise since really, you being back was enough of a gift for him.

That night, he invited you over for dinner. He said it was to celebrate your return, which is true, but he also just wanted to spend time with you now that you were back. You agreed, and the three of you even tried baking dessert, which resulted in a small flour fight initiated by you.

Wilbur usually liked everything in order and in his control, something like throwing flour around and making a complete mess of his kitchen is something that Tommy would enjoy, but somehow it felt okay with you and his son.

I never thought that I’d catch this lovebug again

After that night, Wilbur came to realize that he did like you, if not love you. You were a nice balance to his control and an escape from the stress of his job as president.

At first, it felt like a betrayal to Sally. He decided he was going to focus on his son and his nation, not love. He decided that long before you came into the picture and he was a man of his word. Even if that word was only said to himself.

He knew he couldn’t just outright ignore you. Not only would that be unfair to you, it wouldn’t be fair to Fundy. So he had to deal with it another way, throwing himself further into his work. It meant less time with his son but it was very productive for L’Manberg. Plus it meant Fundy got to see you and Niki more so Wilbur is certain that the young fox would understand and perhaps enjoy this more than spending time with him.

There was a knock at his door but Wilbur didn’t even look up as he called out, “Come on in.” Obviously it wasn’t Tommy since the boy never knocked but it could have been Tubbo or Jack Manifold or even someone from outside of L’Manberg.

“You would think that in a time of peace, the president would have more free time.”

He knew that voice. He could never forget the face that went along with it. Your smile and eyes never left his mind even with him trying his hardest to shut out the rest of the world.

“Y/N, I wasn’t expecting to see you. What brings you by?”

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Fundy told me you’ve been sleeping here lately so I thought I would check on you.”

And there was that kindness again. The kindness that made him fall in love with you in the first place.

“I’m okay, Y/N. Just busy.”

“Too busy to stop by the bakery to see your friends? Or to even come home and see your son at night?”

There was an edge to your voice and Wilbur wasn’t sure how he felt about it, obviously he thought that Fundy would prefer spending time with you and Niki over himself but it seemed like you disagreed.

You strongly disagreed.

“I’ve just been busy. Running a country is a lot of work, Fundy will understand. He gets to see you and Niki more anyways, he’s happier that way.” He shifted his eyes back to the papers in front of him, letters he had been drafting for the past two hours and couldn’t get anywhere with.

“Fundy is a child, Wilbur. Niki and I are happy to see him at the bakery but we aren’t replacements for his dad. His dad who suddenly became “too busy” almost overnight. What happened?”

It truly was sweet the way you cared about his son that much. Enough to come to his office when you could be sleeping. This could have been a good moment for him to say what was on his mind, that he thinks he was falling in love with you and didn’t want to betray his dead wife. But he lied.

“Tommy has been getting into trouble with Dream recently, I want to make sure we don’t fight in another war so soon. Or ever again.” It was a solid lie, Tommy had a reputation for being a troublemaker and he could use that to his advantage. You seemed like you were about to speak, probably about Fundy, so he spoke first, “I promise that I will talk to Fundy and see him more as soon as I get this figured out. Thank you, Y/N, it’s really nice Thank you, Y/N, it’s really nice to know that someone else cares about Fundy this much, he needs that.”

“It’s not just him that I care about, Wilbur. I wish you would see Fundy more sooner but I was also worried about you, I know you care about him so something had to be going on for you to miss seeing him this often.”

Well that certainly didn’t help with him trying to ignore these feelings.

“Then I thank you again. I really appreciate it. Goodnight, Y/N. Get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Wilbur.”

I kissed them for the first time yesterday

Wilbur kept the promise he made to you. Considering the reason he gave you for being busy was a lie, it wasn’t hard to get back to seeing his son and by extension, you.

If you asked him, he would say he’s handling his feelings for you rather well now. He hasn’t done anything about it but he isn’t shutting out the world so, progress.

It was another dinner night with you and Fundy, you had brought desert with you this time so they didn’t have another flour fight but it was still lovely. After he sent Fundy to bed, you stuck around.

The two of you had been sitting on the couch together for a whole, just talking about anything, and maybe it was just because it was late and you looked so beautiful but something came over Wilbur and he asked, “Would you mind if I tried something?”

You nodded, curious about what he was going to try, but you didn’t stay curious for long as Wilbur gently cupped your face with one hand and leaned in to kiss you.

A kiss that you returned.

I never thought that I’d get hit by this lovebug again

#mikey's writing #dream smp x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #dsmp x reader #dream smp x you #wilbur soot x you #dsmp fic #dsmp x you #dreamsmp x reader #dreamsmp x you

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

Text

Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance, Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Sing To Me AU

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the-witches-you-couldnt-burn · 3 years

Text

Like I did with you

So I’ve been procrastinating hard during my study break for my exams, but here have a song fic!

Ghost of you by 5SOS

Genius comments: The song tells the tale of a heartbroken lover who has lost his significant other – due to a breakup or even suicide/death – and is refusing to accept the fact that she is never coming back.

I didn’t feel like writing angst and whenever I hear this song I feel like ballroom dancing (and I have).

Also thank you to the lovely people on the Maribat discord server!

Ao3

The sequel ‘It started with a whisper’ is up!

————————

Gotham Academy implemented a new ‘Study Abroad’ program due to recent funding from a local humanitarian. This program gave the students of Gotham Academy a chance to study abroad in Europe and vice versa. Countries like Sweden, Greece, Germany, Ireland and more participated in the program; offering a multitude of high schools with many different courses.

And because of that very wealthy benefactor, his son got first pick on where he would like to study. This was 100% not a forced decision at all to subtly keep track of the happenings of Paris. With that the Ice Prince of Gotham took the City of Love by storm.

He had been at Collège Françoise Dupont for the past few months, and it’s been hell. The class he had been placed into was ripping apart at the seams. There were two students that the class gravitated towards; he observed some of the others meeting in secret, without the knowledge of their respective ‘leaders’.

The first student that held the majority of the class’ focus was Lila Rossi. She was a black hole with beady green eyes, who dragged who ever was in her reach to an agonising fate. Damian saw through her deceptions and rejected her flirtations. The students that followed her, ate up whatever lie she spat out. Rossi soon learned that lies about the Wayne family and Gotham wouldn’t fly with him.

“Really? You worked with Monsieur Wayne?” The pink clad girl, Rose, squeaked.

Damian had just walked into class on his second day at the hell hole and already regretted it. He shot a glare towards the large group, “Who ever told you that is severely misinformed. My father has never worked with a minor from Europe, due to potential rumours and allegations it could cause. It is not a threat but a promise if a lie of similar caliber is spread there will be a lawsuit.” And with that he walked towards his seat in the back, the Ice Prince had cast his decree, the class’ atmosphere had frozen over.

The second student was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Those that surrounded her were Alix Kubdel, Chloé Bourgeois, Max Kanté, Lê Chiến Kim and the occasional secret appearance from Juleka Couffaine. They didn’t view Dupain-Cheng through rose coloured lenses, they were always grounded and opinions were respected. Damian, who was a loner without Jon at his side, was satisfied by himself; Marinette respected that and didn’t force him to socialise like Lila tried to.

So that leads us to this. He stood against a sidewall of the giant banquet hall, staring out at the crowd before him. Jon was walking to wards him with a can of sprite in hand. Jon had moved to Paris with him but had been placed into a different class. The boy who was the epitome of sunshine stuck around the Ice Prince, their friendship is an enigma to the Françoise Dupont students.

Jon’s face was flushed. He had just gotten a drink after dancing for the past hour. Tonight was the night of the Collège’s formal dance for their graduating class. Skirts of all colours and fabrics swirled, as their partners (majority of whom had matching suits) twirled them to the music.

Jon, gesturing to the crowd, asked him whether he was going to stand there all night or dance. Taking a sip of his drink a smirk appears on his face, “unless the great Damian Wayne is to much of a coward to dance.”

Here I am waking up

Still can't sleep on your side

Damian’s head snapped towards the taller boy, “Are you seriously using my ego to get me to dance?”

Jon raising an eyebrow, “Well?”

If I can dream long enough

The temperamental teen stormed off, grumbling about “Jon being as bad as Todd”. Scanning the room he search for a suitable partner, there was no way he would embarrass himself by dancing alone.

You'd tell me I'd be just fine

I'll be just fine

He spotted Dupain-Cheng stood off to the side, alone. She was draped in a layered white dress with black hemming. As he neared, he realised that the asymmetrical skirt was actually a light blush with her signature apple blossom flowers embroidered. She looked up at him and he straightened his stance, slowing his pace. Her sapphire eyes locked on to his, her bangs curled off to the side along with the rest of her hair in beach waves.

So I drown it out like I always do

She gifted him a small smile, a usual occurrence within her interactions with him. He offered his left hand, bowing his head slightly. “Dupain-Che—“ he cleared his throat, “Marinette. Would you do me the honour of joining me in this dance?”

Dancing through our house

With the ghost of you

Her eyes widened, not expecting the Arabian God of a teen before her to ask her such a question. She saw his temper during class during his spats with Lila and how he kept to himself without the presence of Jon. But here he was in a fitted Armani suit that made his green eyes glow, and hair messily slicked to the side. Marinette looked at his hand, glad that her makeup mostly hid her blush.

And I chase it down

“I am...” She paused to find the right word, “I am a bad dancer. It is better for everyone that I don’t participate.”

“I can think of nothing less appealing than an evening of watching other people dance.” A small gasp escaped from her mouth before she could stop it. She watched as his mouth twitch’s downwards before his facade returned with full strength. “If you do not wish, to I won’t force you. But if you’ll allow me I’ll guide you through the dance to make sure it isn’t an utter disaster.”

With a shot of truth

Marinette’s lips quirked, giggling as she took his hand, “Your funeral Damian.”

What had he gotten himself into?

The two entered the dance floor, taking up the dance support hold. Their dance had the basic steps of the waltz, with a promenade and many spins; some as a couple and some were just Mari. Damian soon found he enjoy watching the sparkles in her dress light up as she spun. It became even more enjoyable when he discovered that the dress was her own creation.

Dancing through our house

The two made quiet conversations during their dance. Damian pulled her closer by the waist as they repeated the basic steps, their bodies perfectly in tune with each other. “You are a fine dancer despite your protests”

With the ghost of you

Marinette tilted her head up at him, blinding him with a dazzling smile. Damian’s heart fluttered, the two always had a mutual respect but it seems to have grown into a fond appreciation.

From the tables scattered around the dance floor there was a blond, with his fist clenched. Lila had dragged him off of the floor as soon as Damian and Marinette made their debuts; together. The brunette was now off angrily gossiping to Alya and any other who’d listen. It was a hot topic between Lila and Alya that Marinette loved him, although now, as he watched her dance with Damian, he was unsure as to whether that was ever true. He sat there, glued to his seat, watching the spectacle before him.

Cleaning up today

Found that old Zepplin shirt

The two dancers didn’t notice that everyone had cleared off the floor to watch them. They danced in sync, no movement was made without the other following it. Adrien had realised awhile ago that even though he didn’t have romantic feelings for Marinette, he cherished her friendship. That relationship was now tarnished due to the path he took when he first revealed his knowledge of the deceptions. His father had forced him to keep Lila happy, even if it made him miserable.

You wore when you ran away

And no one could feel your hurt

He had lost her, and he was unsure as to whether he could gain any semblance of their relationship back.

We're too young, too dumb

To know things like love

Damian lifted his partner’s right hand and twirled her three times, they both were content within their own world. The two swayed before turning together and walking around the now open space.

But I know better now (Better now)

Marinette flushed as she realised what was happening around her, leaning towards her partner she whispered, “I think we’ve become an impromptu entertainment.”

Too young, too dumb

To know things like love

Too young, too dumb

Damian subtly gazed behind her seeing their peers in a circle surrounding them. He was on the inside looking out, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He whispered reassurances in her ear, he wished to finish the song before he released her from his embrace. The two drowned out their audience, focusing on each other and the beat of the song.

So I drown it out like I always do

Dancing through our house

With the ghost of you

And I chase it down

With a shot of truth

That my feet don't dance

Like they did with you

The melody slowly faded off as the last lines were sung. The two finished on a basic waltz step before swaying in each other’s arms. The music ends and there is silence, blood rushed to their ears and their breaths mingled.

The two stayed in the other’s embrace, face-to-face, staring. They broke out of their trance by clapping. Looking around Marinette saw many of her peers and most of the supervising teachers applauding their performance.

Their friends broke through the crowd, Jon patted Damian’s shoulder (retracting before he got bit) while Chloe and Alix pulled Marinette back to their table to discuss what Disney magic had befallen the couple. The bluenette glanced back at her partner, mouthing a silent goodbye.

The crowd dispersed but were still buzzing from their display. Marinette was bombarded with questions, not only from her friends, but from other students about her dancing with the demon. Her stuttered replies did little to quench the crowd’s thirst. Her face must be comparable to that of a tomato.

Damian, having noticed the building crowd and Marinette’s uncomfortable stance, broke away from Jon. The crowd parted like the red sea, unwilling to be the one to anger the Ice Prince.

He offered her his arm (to which she took) and escorted her out to the patio outside. She stayed entwined with him, as she looked out at the stray Parisian night; leaning her head onto his should. Here the two could breathe. Here the two of them could be their present selves, no ghostly facades needed. It seems they could drown out anything in the presence of each other.

Unbeknownst to them, Jon had recorded their dance, along with their previous and present interactions of that night. He thought for a second to use it as blackmail material but decided to just send it off anyways. Oh the chaos it caused.

#maribat #marinette x damian #mlb x dc #daminette #adrien salt #Jon Kent has blackmail #ghost of you by 5sos #song fic #good! Chloé Bourgeois #slight Lila salt

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tnystrk-exe · 3 years

Text

Estocolmo 3

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ thigh riding, in a public setting, degration, cockwarming

Word count: 6k

Chapter Three

Maybe you hadn’t thought through about going to Hannibal’s dinner party. In the moment you had just missed the sound of his voice. His touch… Okay, you were motivated by other things than how much fun you would have at this little dinner party of his.

However you had to pull a lot of strings and work extra shifts, just so your bosses would even consider letting you off for a couple days. You were a valuable worker, one that would damage them to lose, but pettiness didn’t know any bounds. The stress was adding up. Still you trudged through it all. Not one to ever want to end up on Hannibal’s bad side.

You didn’t like making the perfect, polite ones angry. Loud anger you could handle. You were used to it. Quiet anger was just upsetting. He’d be upset you let him down, but he wouldn’t say it right. A soft sigh followed by a half meant it’s okay would probably be the most he’d give you. Disappointing him was a no go.

“I can’t wait for you to leave.”

“You’re so good at making me feel loved.”

“You know I do!” She laid back in your bed, arm’s comfortably behind her head, “But since you planned yourself a date. I did too.”

You grabbed clothes and threw them into a small duffel bag. “The chick from work?”

“God I wish. Can't work up the courage.”

“Don’t tell me you called up Reggie,” you laughed.

“Don’t tell me you got called up by Hannibal,” she mocked your voice. “Look! We’re a team! You can get dicked by someone that doesn’t deserve you. And I’ll romance a very pretty woman the entire weekend.”

“When is she getting here?”

“I’m shooting the text the second you’re out that door.”

You sighed, “You replace me so easily.”

“Oh baby,” she cooed, “Remember who’s leaving who.”

“A couple of days. You could be lonely for a few days.”

Alex walked you out. Stressing that you had to text her throughout your drive. It was only a three hour drive, but a lot could happen within that time.

All in all it wasn’t a bad trip. Monotonous without your usual partner in the passenger seat, but not bad. Your nerves bit at you. Hannibal’s social presence really was everything to him. Your head ran though countless ways you could mess up the night. Ultimately you wouldn’t, you knew that, but your brain sure did like to torture you with the idea.

“Everything will be fine,” you told yourself as you parked alongside the manor. Staying in the car for a moment you built yourself up. It was Hannibal. He knew about your home life. How you took your coffee. The things you’ve allowed him to do to you. Probably some understanding of things that he hadn’t done to you yet. A knock on your window pulled you out of your thoughts.

Opening the door you got out of the car.

“You weren’t thinking of running away, I hope,” Hannibal greeted.

“I wasn’t. Nerves,” you admitted. “It’s usually just the two of us, y’know…”

“Darling,” he scoffed, adjusting a piece of your hair, “I have no doubt in my mind that my companions wouldn’t adore you as much as I do.”

You moved to grab your bag, only for Hannibal to immediately take it from you. “You say that now, but that’s only because you’ve become accustomed to that certain charm I have at three in the morning after a night of studying. I’m not sure I can be as adorable to all of your friends.”

“Anyone that thinks otherwise has no place in my home.” Hannibal grabbed your hand in his own, leading you to the manor.

Once the front door closed, he wasted no time pulling you close. The kiss was long and rough. Both attempting to make up for lost time in the limited minutes you had. A soft moan from you made him press you against the door, the bag that had been in his hand long forgotten. His hand pressed lightly against your throat as he pushed a knee in between yours.

It was a long while before he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed my favorite plaything,” He spoke into the shared air, “You’ve been away so long.”

“Your favorite?” You asked, looking at him dazed.

He smiled, mischief in his eyes. “I’d wager they couldn’t kiss you so well you’d look at them like they hung the stars after.”

“I do not!”

“Of course you don’t, darling.” He picked up your bag. “Come, we should start getting dressed.” You followed Hannibal up the stairs to his room. Apparently yours too, at least for the next couple of nights, since he emptied the contents of your bag into an empty dresser drawer. “You’re more than welcome to explore if you do get uncomfortable. I know meeting a sea of people can feel overwhelming.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll be out of place.”

“You’re exactly where I want you to be,” he disappeared into the walk-in closet, “The other’s are decent enough people. However, it makes sense that such divine beauty doesn’t fit in amongst commoners. I’d never dream of you finding yourself their equal.”

You walked over to examine the drawings he had hung on the wall next to his bed. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of such high thought.”

He came back, placing the suit and dress onto the bed. Standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “I really do mean it, beloved. You’re strong and intelligent. As much as I’d like to, you won’t allow me to pull strings and help you. That’s more than most of the crowd coming over tonight. They haven’t faced hardships like yourself and I. Don’t allow yourself to be treated less than and, please, tell me if anyone makes you feel that way.”

You turned your head, kissing his cheek. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I’m grateful for the thought.”

“I simply must make it my mission to prove it.” He inhaled deeply, “You’ve changed your perfume?”

“I liked the one you bought,” you said simply, getting out of his arms, you looked at the dress he had gotten you. The piece of fabric was easily the most expensive thing you owned now. It didn’t match his suit, but the two certainly complimented each other. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he went to open another dresser drawer, pulling out a small box, “Consider it all a graduation present. You worked hard and deserve a reward for it. We didn’t get a chance to see one another before you left.”

“You’ve had these since then?” You asked.

“Of course. How could I resist an opportunity to find you a gift? And with Alex so graciously allowing me to buy you a dress, I figured tonight would be a wonderful time to give you your gift.” He opened the jewelry box.

“Hannibal,” you gasped quietly, the jewelry glimmered brightly, “It’s beautiful.” Usually you weren’t one for objects, but this was also the most thoughtful thing you’ve ever received. Hannibal had taken the small bits he knew of you and picked out the perfect pieces of jewelry for you. It was the feeling of being known so well that made it special.

“The second I saw this set I couldn’t help but think of my darling girl. Would you like me to put the necklace on you now?”

You quickly shook your head, “After I get dressed, please. I wouldn’t want to risk dirtying it while I’m getting ready.”

“In that case, I’ll show you where you can get ready.”

You grabbed the things you needed to make yourself look presentable and followed Hannibal to the bathroom. To your surprise he started to undress after he hung up his suit and your dress. You shrugged it off and set your stuff on the counter, you were more than comfortable with him and you and Alex had taken to doing similar in your cramped bathroom early mornings. The shower turned on while you took out your makeup. His humming filled the otherwise quiet room.

When you were pleased with how your makeup looked, you moved on to fussing with your hair. The shower shut off and your eyes wandered briefly in the mirror. You watched the show as he dried off his chest and followed the towel up as he dried his hair. He caught your eye, brow raised, you shrugged and sent a wink his way.

You got undressed, tossing your clothes in the hamper as you did. Walking over to the dress you felt the fabric between your fingers, studying the intricate pattern that was sown on to it.

“You don’t like it, darling?” Hannibal asked as he buttoned his shirt. “There’s another in the closet, but I was hopeful you’d like this one. You'd look stunning.”

“Admiring,” you stated simply, “Wait there’s another?”

“There’s a show, I’d like to see tomorrow. I figured it could be an outing for us.” He checked himself over before styling his hair. “This is ‘Making it worth my while’ as Alex said.”

“Han, you know better than to listen to Al.” You sighed, “I’m grateful, I honestly am. It’s just embarrassing. I really can’t give you anything in return.”

Hannibal came over to you, holding one of your hands in his. “They’re simple trinkets of my affection. In the end they all mean nothing. YN, you grace me with your presence and time, which is something that can never be repaid in form. I hold you dearly, your time is more than I deserve.”

You stood on the tips of your toes kissing him gently. There was all the time later for a rougher touch. Now you just wanted to feel him pressed close against yourself. A brief flick of thought asked if you really wanted this to just be a fleeting thing between friends. Pulling away, you gave him one final kiss to the side of his mouth.

“You’re allowed to give me one gift a month,” you teased, as you grabbed his tie and set to work on tying it for him. “You’re not my sugar daddy, as much as Alex wishes you were.”

“And you’re welcome to set as many rules as you’d like when it comes to this. However, what’s forcing me to follow them?” His hands grazed along your sides, “We both understand who makes the rules, don’t we little one?”

The part of you that had become accustomed to that particular tone, faltered slightly. “Hannibal, we’re not always in sessions,” you reminded him as you tightened the tie, “You can’t just have your way.”

“Why not?”

You shook your head, annoyed, “Or you can do what you’d like. It’s your wallet after all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, “I don’t want to offend you.”

You let it go, there was no use to fight over this. “It’s okay, you’re only teasing right?”

“May I please see you in the dress?” He asked, lightening the mood.

You turned, returning to the piece of elegant fabric. Carefully you pulled it on. He really was excellent when it came to fashion. The dress hugged the right places and accentuated everything wonderfully. Hannibal stepped behind you once again. Zipping the back for you, his fingers trailing up as he did. Carefully, he moved your hair to the side as he fixed the necklace in place. Dipping his head down, he kissed that spot on your neck he had quickly learned turned you to putty in his hands. You leaned against him, angling your neck to give him better access as a soft moan escaped. His teeth grazed gently against your neck, he seemed to toy with the idea of making a mark before backing away. As much as he’d enjoy to see it blossom, he knew you had many first impressions to make.

You whimpered at the loss of contact. Suddenly realizing just how much you had missed him.

“I know, little one,” he sighed, pressing a kiss on the side of your ear, “but we have a night to get through. After this, I belong to you. We will have all tomorrow for each other.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

The dinner party was beautifully done. Of course it was. Hannibal never spared any expense, let alone when he was trying to impress. He had introduced you to a couple people, they were nice enough, but you just couldn’t find a connection with them. You definitely steered clear of Bedelia. That woman was intimidating to a whole other degree. Definitely someone you could actually see Hannibal going after. You wondered why he didn’t.

An hour into the dinner party, you slipped away. He had said you could explore and honestly, without him you weren’t much for conversation. You had already gotten a snide look for saying you worked at a bar on nights, but they didn’t hold much interest for you either. All the conversations you had heard were meaningless droning. People constantly trying to one up another or bragging about something new they acquired or some business deal.

So it was safe to say no one noticed your absence. Well maybe one extremely observant man.

You found yourself in his library, taking residence in a nook next to a window. Hannibal’s sketch book in your lap as you looked over his drawings. Each drawing looked like he must have spent hours on it. You marveled at his talent, watching the range go from almost romantic to grouesome. Some things could be recognized as his take on art pieces, and landscapes, while others seemed to be originals. The originals were darker in nature, but you supposed it made sense. He saw death as something comforting and could be considered beautiful. Of course it would translate into his pieces.

The door opened, revealing the man that occupied your thoughts at the moment. “Is everything alright, darling? No one bothered you, I hope.”

You smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I just wanted a break, I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

“Oh?” He touched your forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling well?”

“I’ll go back in a moment,” you promised himas you brought his hand down to press a peck onto it, “Go enjoy your party.”

“They can keep themselves entertained for a while.” He took a seat next to you, pulling you to rest against him. “I could use a moment too.”

You couldn’t stave off the smile that played on your lips to get to have him to yourself. He made you feel comfortable and honestly you were out of your element at this party. Hannibal rested his head against the wall. That left his neck vulnerable and you couldn’t resist placing a kiss on it.

“Why must you insist on acting up when we are alone, darling girl?” He hummed quietly, his hand entertained itself absentmindedly drawing things on your thigh.

“I missed you,” you insisted. “Not just like that. We used to spend a lot of time together.”

“It has been a long time. I’m sorry about that.”

“I had your number too. I’m not completely out of blame.”

“Well, you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” He tugged you closer, “You’re too far.”

You straddled one of his thighs, placing your hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure you have a couple ideas of how.”

“A couple.”

Leaning in you caught him in a kiss. His hand started to trail lower, you caught him by the wrist before he got to his destination, placing his hand back on your hip. With his original plan voided, he bounced his thigh against you, the hands on your hips helping you grind down. You couldn’t help the moan you let out. Letting him continue until you remembered the party happening not so far away.

“Hannibal,” you whined against his lips, “Not right now.”

“But you sound so sweet, darling, don’t mind them.” He continued his earlier assault on your neck, this time not thinking twice before sucking his mark onto it. “You look so beautiful tonight. I know you can give me one before we’re missed, you’re always so good for me. Don’t you want to be good?”

The growing lust clouded your judgement. Hannibal’s soft words and the gentle but perfect rhythm he was working on made it hard to find any reason to argue.

“Yes, daddy,” you sighed softly, “I want to be good for you.”

The door opened again, followed by a dramatic gasp, “Hannibal, having dessert before the rest of us?” The strange man eyed you, “Plan on sharing?”

Hannibal had been quick to tug down the dress that had rode up, keeping you safe from prying eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m not one for sharing. If you don’t mind waiting in the hall. I’ll meet with you in a second.”

“Oh, I’d much prefer to stay. Hello, what’s your name? Is Hannibal keeping you entertained?”

You hid your face against Hannibal’s shoulder, your face burning to the touch.

“Shy thing isn’t she, daddy?”

“I really must insist you leave now,” Hannibal said, the anger evident in his voice.

“Fine, killjoy.” You heard retreating steps and the door closed again.

“Of course out of everyone to find us it was the gossip,” he sighed to himself, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sorry about that, love.”

“I told you not now,” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat beside him.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought we’d have a couple more minutes before someone looked for us, let alone find us. Let me handle this and then you’ll never see him again.”

You nodded. “Can I go to the room for the night? He made me feel… strange.”

“Darling,” he cupped your cheek, a sad look in his eyes, “this is your home more than anyone else out there. Don’t let him ruin the night for us. I’ll make sure he’s gone and stay by you the rest of the night. Does that sound okay?”

And true to his word he was, he had escorted the man out quickly once he found him. However the Gossip was apparently a fast worker, because a couple people did give you lingering looks. Though they were quick to save face if they so much as thought Hannibal noticed. Whatever they thought didn’t matter. You were two grown, consenting adults that enjoyed each other’s company, be damned what others thought. Throughout the night you kept telling yourself that, hoping to cut the embarrassment short. A couple times you caught yourself, thoughtlessly intertwining your fingers with Hannibal’s when you were less than sturdy. Each time he squeezed your fingers gently, quiet reassurance that he was there for you.

You woke up the following morning. Hannibal was still asleep beside you, it must have been early. He looked sweet in the mornings. Relaxed, not as stiff as he usually was, his hair sticking up in places he’d immediately flatten out once he woke as he greeted you with that deeper more accented voice that accompanied the mornings. You pressed a kiss to his chest, before carefully removing the arm that was sprawled across your stomach.

Looking at the clock, you considered the time. There was enough if you worked quickly. Standing up, you grabbed one of your shirts and shorts. After freshening up, you made your way down to the kitchen.

It was different. You hadn’t toured much of the home, let alone know where anything was, but you gathered your bearings fast enough. The things you needed had been placed somewhat similarly to his old home and you set everything onto the counter. Protein scramble, fruit, and pancakes seemed like a good option today. The pancakes, he had taught you to make when you asked where the box mix was and obviously he wouldn’t stand for you not knowing how to make something so simple from scratch.

Your phone played music as you set to work, washing the used dishes along the way so there wasn’t too much of a mess.

As you were plating the food, you heard Hannibal call out your name.

“Kitchen!” You called out.

He was quick to meet you, “Darling, I could have made you breakfast. You should have stayed in bed with me.”

“I couldn’t sleep any more and you looked too sweet to wake,” you poured two cups of coffee and prepared them to both of your liking, “Figured why not play domestic for a while.”

“How did you like it?” He asked, walking over to take the cup from you.

“Eh well you know, the domestic life,” you shrugged, feeding him a cut strawberry, “I like to let my partner sleep in on Saturday’s and make them comfort breakfasts. Sometimes they ruin breakfast in bed by coming down too early, but what can you do?”

He chuckled around the bite of strawberry, “I’m sorry, beloved. I’ll stay put next time.”

“Yes, you will.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “But I’m not too angry at you. I enjoy your company.”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Aren’t you usually sporting my shirts on these mornings?”

“I didn’t want to ruin one of them.”

“You couldn’t ruin a thing if you tried. I’ve got more than enough for you to steal away when you go back home too.”

“I only took them, because someone made a habit of messing up my shirts.”

“And your reasoning for keeping them, little one?” He grabbed the plates, “Come along, the mornings have been wonderful recently.”

You grabbed the cups. “You should’ve come and picked them up the same way I had. It’s your own fault they aren’t back where they belong.”

The afternoon was spent in each other’s company. Hannibal had insisted he’d wash the remaining dishes and asked you to pick up his sketchbook and pencils from the library since you were going to find yourself something to read. You did as asked, before returning outside. Setting his things on the table, you went to go sit in a sunny spot of grass.

It wasn’t long until Hannibal rejoined you outside and took a seat.

You glanced up curiously after a while, he was sketching away.

“Anything I can do for you, beloved?” He asked, not looking up from his work.

“Just watching.”

He hummed in response.

Some unease settled in your stomach when you remembered why exactly you were over here. What was the harm in voicing it? “Hannibal?” You waited until he looked up at you, “You’re okay that we haven’t slept together yet? I mean… I know that’s why I am here.”

It was true, the lingering looks you had gotten at dinner, paired with the small embarrassment of realizing one of Hannibal’s love bites got to bloom in front of them all threw you off at night. You had tried to let yourself go, let him have control of you for a while, but you couldn’t go past taking off some clothes and letting your hands feel the other. He didn’t mind when you didn’t want to do more. Always the gentleman. Instead he settled you against his chest, an arm keeping you close, quiet conversation and long breathtaking kisses filled the night.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’ve found,” he stated, seeming to be mildly offended, “I enjoy our quiet moments just as much, if not more. Sex is something else we could do together, nothing more. It’s not everything, little one. You’re not here for that purpose. What I enjoy is your company and I’ll take it any way you give it.”

You tilted your head looking at him closely, he mimicked you, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. That made you laugh softly, you decided he was being honest and not covering up his disappointment with sweet words. Patting the grass next to you, “Sit with me.”

“YN…”

“Please?” You asked, sweetening the pot with a pout.

He shook his head but gathered his things, soon joining you. Resting your head on his shoulder you looked at what he was sketching. The scene was you at the present moment. Half faced toward him, book in hand, completely relaxed, and more perfect than you ever dreamed of being.

“That’s an exaggeration, I’m not that beautiful.”

“That’s where we must differ, my love,” he kissed your temple, “Try as I might I’ll never be able to draw you with the dignity you deserve. It’s a poor imitation of the way I perceive you.”

“You’re a ridiculous man,” you said fondly, “Though I suppose I’d like to keep you around a while longer.”

“Suppose” he scoffed, “ You’d be lost without me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly and went back to your book.

“Darling, I do adore when you take care of yourself, but we’ll be late if you don’t hurry,” Hannibal said, leaning on the bathroom’s door frame already dressed for the outing.

“It’s not my fault you always manage to get the bath perfect,” you groaned, getting out of the bathtub.

Hannibal walked over, grabbing a towel on his way. “I’ll run you another later.”

You took the towel, drying yourself off. It was nice to see a rare impatient Hannibal. There was more to that calm and collected demeanor he usually had. “You’re cute when you’re excited about something. Where are we going?”

“I got us tickets to the opera.”

“Really!” You lit up at that. When he talked about the shows he had seen before, he’d get so much more animated. It would be nice to experience one with him. “Which one?”

“Die Entführung aus dem Serail,” he answered, taking you in with a smile, “but darling, your excitement may go to waste, I’m afraid.”

��I’ll be quick!”

With you keeping your promise and Hannibal’s quick driving, it didn’t take anytime to make it to the opera house. There was time to spare and Hannibal socialized a bit, introducing you to other regulars. You exchanged pleasantries and let Hannibal control the conversation as you looked around the place. Some people you recognized from last night. One person you saw nod towards you whispering something to his companion.

“I didn’t think he’d be one for cradle robbing,” you caught the man say, as he eyed you up, “Lucky man. Reckon I could steal that little piece away?”

You subtly moved closer to Hannibal, feeling the heat rise to your face.

Hannibal turned his attention to you when the others started talking amongst themselves. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, tucking away a strand of your hair that fell out of place.

“Yeah. I’m great,” you lied, knowing he’d probably take offense to any minute comment made about whatever kind of relationship the two of you had.

“Are you certain?” The tone of voice saying he knew you were hiding something. He always seemed to read you so easily. In that he knew you’d continue to deny anything. “Would you like to go to our seats now? The show should start in a couple of minutes.”

“Yes, please.”

Hannibal grabbed your hand in his, leading you away from the crowd. To your surprise he took you to a private balcony above the rest of the audience seating. “Since, it’s your first time, I figured privacy would do us well. No distractions,” he paused for a moment, “No one to get into that pretty little head of yours.”

“I just don’t enjoy all the looks and comments,” you sighed, allowing him to pull you down onto the seat with him. “I love spending time with you. It’s just soured by people that don’t mind their own.”

“It’s not ideal, but we mustn’t let them ruin our nights. With this kind of community, people make assumptions and talk. Darling, I really do insist you tell me when someone makes you upset.”

“I know, I know. Guess I should have braced for it more. I’m just not used to these kinds of things. When we’re alone it’s easy to just exist together. Just us.”

“I understand completely. However, I do enjoy that we finally got to leave the house. You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

You smiled at that, “Well, you do seem to have an eye for what suits me.”

“That, I do.”

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you breathed the comforting scent of his cologne, “I’m sorry I let them get to me when we're supposed to be enjoying our time together. It’s not fair to you.”

“They get annoying,” he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “Of course you’d take offense for us. There isn’t much we can do besides understand that we’re here for the right reasons. Though, it does get under my skin to see you affected so under my care.”

Soon the crowd made their way to the seats and the lights dimmed to near black. When the music started Hannibal whispered translations into your ear. You got caught up in the story between watching the characters go through their woes and Hannibal’s gentle voice guiding you through every detail. It was easy to see what Hannibal saw at these events. They really were thrilling to watch. Still it wasn’t so much the show, but getting to know another side of the man in question.

You looked at the man beside you, a happy smile plastered on your face. “Thank you for bringing me, Hannibal.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

“Your love?” You challenged teasingly.

A couple times he had thrown around the pet name. You didn’t take it for much. He was a sweet, old fashioned man, you had decided to believe. A sweet nothing that neither of you minded. Still you couldn’t deny the slight softness you felt from the moniker.

“You’ve promised yourself as all mine before,” he reminded you, “and I take no issue in claiming what’s mine.”

“That was said when I was drunk on you.”

“Deny all you’d like, sweet girl, you’re still mine.”

Hannibal tilted your head up slightly to kiss you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about why the music crescendoed in that moment. Not when he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever felt. He had a way of making it feel like you were the only beings in existence. Hannibal bit at your lip, asking for more, and you gave it to him without a thought. You’d do whatever he wanted at that moment. Still you couldn’t help grabbing his wrist when his hand found it’s way up your dress. He swallowed the helpless moan that slipped past your lips greedily.

You pulled away from him, your hips grinding onto his hand on their own accord. “Hannibal, I-“

He hushed you, “You’re missing a very important part of the show.” His hand didn’t let up from its ministrations as he continued to translate for you.

You went to cover your mouth with your hand, but Hannibal stopped you short, placing it back at your side. A quick mummer of be good was all he offered, not once stopping the pace he had set. You choked back the moan when he pressed against a spot that had been long neglected since the last time you paid him a visit. The music being so loud was your only safe haven, still, you pressed yourself further into Hannibal, hoping to hide yourself further from any wandering eyes that might look away from the show. Embarrassment and lust built with every thrust of Hannibal’s fingers. The former was getting increasingly easier to ignore as Hannibal pulled you closer and closer to your end. Pressing your face against his neck, you bit at the skin there in a cheap attempt at revenge for what he was putting you through.

Hannibal’s fingers stilled. A quiet chuckle met your ear when he heard your whimper of protest, stopping your hips as you attempted to help yourself. “Such an easy thing to toy with, you're nothing more than my own personal whore.” He didn’t miss the throb around his fingers at those words. “You’d let me use you however I’d like wouldn’t you?”

You gave a lazy nod as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. Eager to please him, hoping he’d let you finish, you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Behind your back, you felt him working himself out of his pants. Taking his hand away he adjusted your dress higher before pulling you on to his lap. With his other hand the head of his cock teased your clit, you forced yourself not to complain, knowing he’d go on longer if you did. When he finally pushed into you, you couldn’t fight off the moan of contentment as he filled you completely. Turning your head, you caught him in a languid kiss, caught up in only him despite the performance going on.

“Please?”

“What do you need?”

“You.” You shifted your hips slightly, “May I please move?”

“I’m sorry, little one,” you caught the slight upward twitch of his lip when you looked at him in disbelief, “I’d rather use you at my leisure.”

You whined in frustration, leaning against him knowing he’d play a cruel game. This time he offered no translations, keeping you entirely focused on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you doing nothing to help relieve your need for him. When you did manage to distract yourself, he circled your clit and gave a few sharp thrust, just enough to bring you back where he wanted you. His hand continued, changing the rhythm every so often so you’d stay aware of your position.

“I’ll be so good,” you begged helplessly.

“And yesterday you had been so against it despite having our privacy in the library,” he reminded you, pushing in and out of you in a too slow pace, but at least he was moving, “What was it that was missing, hm? The audience that could look up and see me using what’s mine?”

You didn’t know what had changed. Not truely. Maybe it was the couple of glasses of wine you had drunk throughout the day. Perhaps it was just finally getting what you had wanted for so long. Honestly, you couldn’t find yourself to be curious enough to find out.

“I wanna cum,” you told him, swallowing the embarrassment.

“I don’t know, darling, you’ve tried to find comfort with others. I really can’t say I approve of the notion. Suppose, I could just use you for your worth and leave you dry.” He groaned into your ear as you clenched around him, he sped up his thrust, “There’s my good girl, you like the sound of that?”

“Hannibal, please,” you whimpered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Beg for it.”

“I’ll never look for anyone else again. It was so stupid to think anyone else could make me feel as good as you.” Your breath hitched when he struck deeper, “I've been so desperate for you.”

“That’s all so very sweet, but that’s not exactly what I want to hear.”

You whined quietly as you tried to figure out the right combination of words to get you what you wanted. “I’m just yours… No one else’s… You’re the only one, I’m so sorry…”

“See? Was it so hard to apologize for your misconduct?”

You shook your head.

He pinched your thigh. “Words, darling.”

“No, daddy,” you moaned, as his hands guided your hips to move with him, “But I’ll be good for you now.”

“I still don’t think you deserve to cum, you pathetic thing.”

“You’ll let me?”

Hannibal’s hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making you look at him. “Next time I won’t be so generous. Understood?”

You swallowed down the slight twinge of fear that had worked its way into your system. “Yes, sir.”

He pushed your face away. “Work for it yourself.”

Tag list: @charc0al-grey @songofcosplay

#Hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal x reader #slasher x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #slasher imagines #smut

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alliedbiscuit · 3 years

Text

msr fic / s7 post-closure but pre-all things / wc: 3398

Scully takes Maggie out for a birthday dinner, and you'll never guess who they run into.

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

“So, how are feeling about dessert?” the waiter asks hopefully.

Maggie Scully scoffs. “Oh, no. I couldn’t eat another bite. Maybe just a cup of coffee? Decaf, please.”

“Mom, are you sure? You should get dessert,” Dana Scully prods, stopping herself short before she could let it slip, “It’s your birthday!” The last gift her mother would appreciate is a gaggle of underpaid waiters singing some public-domain-compliant version of a birthday song while the whole restaurant turns its attention toward her. Like mother, like daughter.

Well, the daughter made an exception and found that kind of thing charming exactly once. But at least she got a nice keychain out of it. All her mother would get was humiliation and a chocolate lava cake.

As soon as the waiter leaves to fetch their after dinner coffees, Maggie reveals her true intentions.

“I was thinking we could go to that ice cream parlor down the street. If I’m going to indulge, I think I want a hot fudge sundae. Or maybe we could split a banana split?”

“Or you could get a hot fudge sundae and I could get a banana split, and we could split both,” Scully suggests.

“See, that’s why you work for the FBI.”

“Dessert Conflict Resolution was part of my training at Quantico.”

Both Scullys giggle.

“Does Fox have the same specialty? Or is that what you bring to the team?”

“Mulder’s dessert strategy is just to eat everything and then swim a mile and run five the next day. No, he’s a Takeout Menu Marksman, though. He knows where to order from and what to order so it travels the best and doesn’t get cold and congealed by the time it arrives. Might sound like a trivial skill, but it’s a lifesaver on movie night.”

Maggie continues smiling but cocks her head slightly. Dana realizes why almost instantly.

“You have movie night?”

“It’s not a set thing or anything. We just…if we’re not busy with a case.”

“You just watch movies? As coworkers?”

“As friends.”

“Just friends?”

Dana lets out a long sigh as she stares her mother down. Her mother, maintaining that gentle yet challenging grin. Dana considers her response carefully. She could offer a simple yes because that is the fact of the matter. They are just friends. She could criticize the wording choice. “Just” friends? Why does it have to be “just” friends? As if friendship isn’t somehow enough or isn’t valuable?

She could realize it’s her mother’s birthday and she’s the only other Scully woman left to confide in about matters of the heart, and although she doesn’t want to bring up the New Year’s kiss because she still doesn’t really know what it meant, maybe they both need this little gift of honesty, filled with tempered excitement and promise.

“For now,” Dana Scully finally admits.

Maggie’s grin grows as Scully just shakes her head and manages to keep her slight eye roll from reaching embarrassed teenager level. The waiter does bail her out a bit by choosing that moment to deliver their coffees.

“How is Fox doing? After his mother…” Maggie trails off, but her daughter knows not to expect any more specifics.

“Better? I mean, as well as can be expected. The thing is, right after that, he found out some more about his sister. About what happened to her. It was just so much all at once. I was really worried…”

Maggie reaches across the table to lay a hand on hers.

“But, it was almost like he was ready for it. He finally had some answers. Like it brought him some peace.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. He needed that.”

“We all do.”

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

Maggie is the one to spot him first as they’re heading for the door.

“Is that- is that Fox?” she asks her daughter.

“What? No, he wouldn't…” Dana trails off as she looks straight ahead to where her mother was indicating and confirms that it is indeed Fox Mulder, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained to the floor as he appears to be waiting near the vestibule for the restrooms.

“Mulder?” Scully questions as she approaches, her voice giving away her confusion and growing concern.

His head darts up in surprise, but a beaming smile of recognition quickly overtakes his face.

“Hey, Scully! Mrs. Scully, it’s so nice to see you!”

“You too, Fox,” Maggie kindly replies, although a quick glance to her daughter confirms her suspicion that Dana is still very confused by his presence.

“Did you…did you need something?” She suddenly feels silly for presuming that he must have come there with urgent news or a case or something, but why else would Fox Mulder be at Petrino’s on a Saturday night? Did his informants trade in clandestine meetings in parking garages for family-style Italian?

“Hmm?” Mulder asks.

“You didn’t come here to find me? I told you I was bringing my mom here for her birthday, didn’t I?” He didn’t look like he had rushed to the restaurant from the office or his apartment as she had originally assumed. He had clearly shaved and combed his hair nicely. He wore an olive green sweater with dark blue jeans and a black wool pea coat rather than his leather jacket. He had definitely made an effort.

“You did, but I thought you were going out tomorrow night on her actual birthday. Happy birthday, by the way, Mrs. Scully.”

“Thank you, Fox. I’m going to have lunch with some ladies from church after mass tomorrow, so I asked Dana if we could do Saturday night instead.”

“Ah. What a weird coincidence then. I can’t believe we didn’t see you at all during dinner.”

We.

Oh God.

Mulder was on a date.

Mulder was on a date in this restaurant on the night he thought Scully wasn’t going to be there. Mulder was on a date right after Scully had confessed to her mother (and herself) that their “just friends” status was in the process of changing. Mulder was on a date right after he’d been through so much pain but seemed to come out lighter and more open and he wanted to share it with someone…who wasn’t Dana Scully.

“So, you’ve already eaten then?” Maggie asks since her daughter appears unable to form a coherent statement at the moment.

“Yeah, we just finished. I’m just waiting for her…” he seems to trail off just to motion towards the restroom rather than say anything indelicate, but then he notices Maggie’s poorly masked look of concern toward Dana, and then he notices Dana’s completely unmasked look of shock.

And then he gets it.

“Oh, no! It’s not…I want you to meet her,” Mulder insists as he grabs a hold of both of Scully’s elbows and then glances anxiously toward the restroom door.

Dana Scully looks like she might be ill.

Thankfully Mulder only stammers a moment longer until the restroom door opens and he finds reprieve when a tall, thin woman appearing to be in her mid-60s walks through the door.

“Aunt Helen,” Mulder calls.

Somehow Scully’s eyes manage to get even wider as some of the color returns to her face.

“Aunt Helen, there are a few people I’d really like you to meet. This is my partner, Dana Scully, and this is her mother, Margaret Scully.”

Aunt Helen smiles widely in recognition, first shaking Maggie’s hand and then Dana’s. “It is such a pleasure to meet you both. I’ve heard such wonderful things.”

She lingers with her hand holding Dana’s while she says this, and the younger Scully is left blushing. She hazards a look at Mulder, but he doesn’t look embarrassed by this revelation. He holds her gaze with nothing but pride.

“This is my aunt, Helen Briggs. She’s my mom’s sister. She’s visiting for the weekend from Charlotte.”

They all kind of marvel over the fact that they were in the same restaurant and what a coincidence and oh, we were seated near the back bar, that must be why we didn’t see you and Scully is just starting to feel her pulse return to normal as Aunt Helen laments not having a chance to talk with the Scullys.

“Well, Dana and I skipped dessert so we could go to The Big Dipper for some ice cream. Would you two like to join us?”

“Oh, that would be lovely. As long as we’re not intruding,” says Aunt Helen.

“Not at all,” Scully assures her. “There is one catch, though.”

“It’s not real ice cream. It’s that Tofutti nonsense, isn’t it?” Mulder groans.

“It better not be,” Maggie insists. “I don’t know how she eats that stuff.”

Scully ignores her mother and her partner’s bad mouthing of her frozen treats as she returns her attention to Aunt Helen.

“I’m afraid if you want to come along, you will have to reveal a few good Young Mulder stories. And by ‘a few,’ I mean as many as you’ve got. And by ‘good,’ I mean the more embarrassing the better.”

“I’ll start thinking now,” Aunt Helen laughs.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant,” Mulder says regretfully.

***********

They’ve just sat down to a small, round table for four with their ice cream when Mulder stands up to get them all more napkins, and Aunt Helen retrieves a small, rectangular piece of paper from her purse that she then deftly slides to Dana.

“Oh my god!” Scully exclaims with joy.

Staring back at her from the paper is a very young Fox Mulder. She guesses he must be around 8 or 9 in the school photo. His long, sandy brown hair falls just above his eyebrows. He doesn’t have his distinctive nose yet, but his bottom lip is already a little pouty. The real give away is the eyes. He’s grinning for the camera, but his eyes still have that soulfulness, that slight sadness.

She’s surprised. She knows she shouldn’t be. His eyes didn’t suddenly change when Samantha was taken. His eyes were probably always like that.

But she had always assumed that the great tragedy had flipped a switch for Young Fox Mulder. That before that single event, he had certainly been a perfectly happy child. Funny and athletic, popular for sure. But the humor developed as a defense mechanism later in life. And the sports were a great physical release as well as an excuse to be out of the house as much as possible. She didn’t actually know what he was like before, but now that she thought about it, home life was probably never all that great if it eventually led to a father sacrificing one child and leaving the other to always live with the guilt and loss.

It was very possible that Fox Mulder had always been a little boy with a lot on his mind.

In contrast, present day, adult Fox Mulder looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world as he returns with extra napkins, ready to tuck into his chocolate peanut butter ice cream in a waffle cone – that is until he realizes what his friend and partner Dana Scully is looking at.

“Oh come on. I was gone for thirty seconds, and you have the visual aids out.”

Scully continues to beam as Maggie finally gets a glimpse of the photo in her hand.

“Oh, Fox!”

“Okay,” Mulder said exasperatedly. “Does this meet your embarrassment quota?” he asks, looking pointedly at Scully.

“Not even close! This isn’t embarrassing. It’s adorable!”

Mulder rolls his eyes but can’t hide his bashful grin at her comment.

“It’s only fair, Fox. I know you’ve seen family photos of Dana at my house,” Mrs. Scully says, sounding like a mother well practiced in settling disputes between children.

“Just a couple. I do like that high school graduation picture, though. I still don’t know how you kept your cap on with all that hair.”

“That was the style back then. Everybody teased their hair and used a ton of hairspray.”

“I thought it might be a religious thing at Catholic school. The higher the hair, the closer to God,” Mulder teases.

Maggie and Aunt Helen chuckle, though the latter gives him a good-natured swat on the arm in admonishment.

“See, this is what I need, though. I need something from the teen years. That’s peak embarrassment fodder,” Scully says.

“If you ask our colleagues, I think my peak embarrassment fodder would come from about 1991 to present,” Mulder points out.

Aunt Helen just looks slightly regretful. “I’m afraid I don’t have many stories from those years, Dana.”

Mulder makes eye contact with Aunt Helen. “You didn’t miss much,” he insists. She looks like she wants to debate him, but he just places a hand on hers reassuringly, and they seem to make a silent agreement to not argue the point any further.

Mulder had never really mentioned any other family before. She knew his grandparents had all passed before she met him, but she had assumed, just like with everything else, that any other extended family connections had disappeared along with Samantha. That no one would know how to comfort and console The Mulders in a situation like that, with no explanation.

His aunts and uncles must have had questions, probably even had their own theories. Did his mother’s side suspect his father’s involvement, or did his father’s side blame his mother somehow? Did any of them blame…no, she couldn’t go down that route. Besides, did anyone ever suspect horrific things like that before the days of cable news and supermarket tabloids?

The point is, it was a tense situation, so Scully assumed they had all done what wealthy white people in places like Martha’s Vineyard and Boston and Raleigh did with any uncomfortable subject – they avoided it completely.

And that meant avoiding the little boy with a lot on his mind as he became a teenager with even more on his mind.

Scully had accompanied Mulder to a small burial service for his mother in Raleigh a few months ago. It was just the service. No gathering or dinner after, or at least not one that Mulder told her about. The attendees at the service were all pretty spread out, not much mingling. Again, it was another sudden loss shrouded in mystery. They all avoided particulars as much as they could.

Scully didn’t remember seeing Aunt Helen that day, but maybe she was there and just couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Maybe she wasn’t there because she couldn’t bring herself to go and then regretted it. Dana Scully didn’t know, and it didn’t actually matter. The point is that she’s here now. And that’s exactly what Mulder’s look of reassurance and acceptance seems to say.

It seems to help her perk up because she offers playfully, “Oh, what about that summer on Quonochontaug? I think you were 9 or so, and you were collecting leaves for one of your Indian Guide badges.”

“Oh god!”

“I’m hooked already. Not to jump ahead, but please tell me there’s poison ivy involved,” Scully says gleefully.

Aunt Helen’s bark of laughter and Mulder’s exaggerated eye roll are all the confirmation she needs.

“It was heavily involved! But that’s not the worst part. While he was working on his Leaf Collecting badge, he also earned credit towards his Wildlife badge when he came across a skunk in the woods.”

“No!” Scully shouts.

“Ivyed and skunked at the same time,” Mulder admits.

“Oh you poor thing,” Maggie adds sympathetically, but with barely contained laughter.

“He had to jump right from a tomato juice bath for the skunk smell…”

“Which didn’t work!”

“…into an oatmeal bath for the itching.”

“Which worked better, but I still smelled like a Grateful Dead concert.”

Both Scullys are full on giggling at this point.

“Do you remember what Grandpa Ralph said when he walked in and saw you and mom dunking me in a tub of oatmeal?” Mulder asks.

Aunt Helen pitches her voice deeper and amps up her Southern twang, “Why don’t cha dip him in some egg and flour next? We toss him in the frying pan, we got supper! We’re havin’ Fried Fox tonight!”

Now they’re all in hysterics. Even the man who usually hates his given name can’t help but laugh along, especially when it makes his lovely company so happy.

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

Scully enters the basement office Monday morning to find Mulder already there, flipping through an open drawer in the filing cabinet.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully.

He looks up and smiles. “Good morning. Long time no see.”

“How was the rest of your weekend? Did you guys do any sightseeing or anything?”

“No, we just had a late breakfast yesterday before I took her to the airport, but it was good to catch up some more. She told me to thank you again for letting us tag along for ice cream. It was really nice.”

“It was,” Scully agrees.

Mulder appears to be considering something for a moment before he crosses over to the desk and picks up a small envelope.

“She also told me to give this to you,” he says almost bashfully, extending the envelope in Scully’s direction. “She told me I couldn’t look inside, and I didn’t. But I think I know what’s in there, and if I’m right, you don’t have to keep it. You can just leave it here on the desk.”

Well, now she’s intrigued. Scully opens the envelope to find a small handwritten note at the top.

“I thought you might like these. I have plenty more too, if you’d ever like to see them or want any more stories. Please don’t be a stranger.”

Scully lifts up the note to see the remaining contents inside and finds a small stack of photographs, a mixture of more school photos along with a few wallet-sized family portraits and a couple candids taken on the beaches of the Vineyard or Rhode Island, she can’t tell. But she sees the same set of eyes in all of them.

She looks back to read the rest of the note.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you, Dana. Take care!”

Below Aunt Helen’s elegant signature, she has also written her home address and phone number. Scully will have to call and thank her.

“She tried to give some to me,” Mulder explains, “but I didn’t really want…and like I said, you don’t have to…”

“No, I’d like to keep them,” Dana insists.

Mulder lets her statement hang in the air for a moment, but he can’t help but diffuse it.

“You just want more blackmail material.”

“Something like that,” Scully says teasingly, but there’s no bite behind it.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant.”

She chuckles lightly as she shuffles the photos into a neat stack to place back in the envelope, thinking that this is the point where they get back to work. Mulder stays standing in front of her and appears to be considering something again. Does he have another envelope that he’s afraid to give her?

“You know it was pure luck that we ended up at Petrino’s the same night as you. I actually gave Aunt Helen a few options and let her choose. I was pushing more for that Thai place in Arlington, just off Old Dominion. The one that’s been there forever,” Mulder explains.

“Oh, the one with the secret menu? I’ve still never been there. Can’t say I’m surprised that Aunt Helen wasn’t up for Thai food, though.”

“Yeah. Fair point,” Mulder nods for a moment too long before continuing. “Would you like to go there sometime? Like this Saturday? With me?”

Scully slowly looks up from the envelope to see Mulder’s face because in all matters, other than the divine, Dana Scully needs to see to believe. And the slightly nervous yet gentle grin that she finds allows her to believe it to be true – Fox Mulder has just asked her out on a real date.

“I would like that,” Scully says gently.

“Good. You wanna say 7:30? Or we can always figure out time later,” Mulder states, aiming for practicality to keep him from grinning like a complete idiot. He ends up grinning like a moderate idiot, but he’s okay with that.

“Sounds good.”

Yep, Scully will definitely have to call Aunt Helen and thank her.

#msr fanfic #txf fanfic #msr #mulder and scully #dana scully #maggie scully #fox mulder

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bitchylandtyphoon · 3 years

Text

Sugar on Honey🍯

A/N: Hellooo I hope you guys are doing great I just wanted to try writing a Jim Hopper fic since I barely see any like come on he's so fine and ugh. Ahem anyways pls enjoy the story if u have any recommendations feel free to comment! If u have a request feel free to send a message to me! I'm still new to Tumblr so I'm not really sure how to work any of this sorry about that! ------------------------------------❈---------------------------------------- Hopper didn’t understand how you were so calm with Eleven. He tried, he really did. He took care of Eleven as if he was her own but he couldn't be as gentle and soft as you were. “This is an apple ok? It's red, sweet and a fruit. This is a cucumber, it's green and a vegetable!” Hopper watched as you taught Eleven basic English. “Ok, now you try” You hold up a bunch of grapes. “These are...grapes, sweet, blue and...fruit?” Eleven guessed while squinting hard at the grapes. “Heyyyy not bad! You're doing great, you just mixed up purple with blue but no biggie. Do you wanna do another one?” You said encouragingly. Eleven nods and proceeds to pick another product to investigate. “Oooh~ Hopper watches as you two laugh and learn, he couldn't stop himself from smiling, he appreciated what you were doing especially since Eleven was on house arrest. You were the only one he could trust. He absentmindedly takes a sip of his dark coffee hissing as it was too hot to drink. “You ok?” Hopper looks up to see you looking at him with a worried expression on your face. He loved that face, it was pretty cute. He chuckled “Ye, just too hot to drink” “Be careful before you burn your tongue off for good” You start cleaning the food off of the ground. “Yeah yeah, I won't mom” Hopper jokes as he goes into the kitchen. “Very funny Hopper haha” You give a playful glare “What is so funny? Ha...ha?” Eleven asks, seeing you two joking around not understanding the sarcasm. “Oh it's just sarcasm honey, try finding it in the dictionary, you'll find the meaning there.” You give a gentle smile while pointing to the thick book. “Well, there you go word of the day.” Hopper comes back into the hall sitting in the big chair stirring his spoon in the white coffee-stained mug. You wondered how much coffee he really drinks in a day. “S-A-R-C-A-S-M? the use of i- irony to m-mock or con-convey contempt?” Eleven read trying to read the words correctly. She looked at you for guidance and approval. “Good job kid, you’re doing so well, I need to go now, be a good girl for me ok?” you kissed her crown and gave a hug feeling her arms slowly wrapping around your bottom. “Bye-bye now~” “Bye (Y/N)” Eleven gave a small shy smile as she watched you look for your coat. “Here you go, make sure to zip up” Hopper gives you your coat helping you put it on. “Mm thanks, Hopper” “You want a ride?” Hopper suggests side-eyeing you while he refills his coffee. “I think ill manage, il call if anything happens” “Nope nope it's freezing, not letting you go out alone especially when it's night,” He says sternly as he puts on his coat and boots grabbing his keys on the way to the door “I'll be fine-” “Come on, let's go” You sigh “Ok fine” You trudge to his truck knowing he wouldn't let you win the argument. Giving a small wave to Eleven through the window. You pull his hand stopping him from going too close to the truck. “What, what's wrong, did you forget something?” Hopper asked “No you did” Hopper gives you a confused look “Eleven” “What about her?” “You didn't tell her bye” You take your hand backcrossing it against your chest as you look at the chief disappointed. Hopper sighs and goes back to the house, you watch as he tells Eleven bye” “Happy?” He says with his arms out as he walks towards you. “Depends,” You say as you open the truck door. You wait until he starts the car and starts moving out of the parking area. “What did you tell her?” “What?” “What did you tell her?” “I told her to keep the doors locked, not go out, keep windows and curtains closed-” “Hopperrr” You interrupt him,

sighing with your head down “What have I told you, give be gentle with her. She’s smart and strong, she can handle herself if anything happens. All you have to do is give her a simple bye and a hug” You put a hand on his leg “I know you're trying Jim, I really do know that. I've seen some progress and I'm really happy for both of you. Don’t be so harsh on her ok? She’s just a kid” Hopper sighs calming under your touch. “I know, I know I just. I feel like if I don't be hard on her, she’ll run away, get in some serious trouble and go meet her boyfriend.” Hopper rolls his eyes thinking of Eleven and MIke together. “Well if I was on house arrest and a teenager I would've run away to see my boyfriend too,” You say taking your hand off of his leg. “No you wouldn’t, you wouldn't even go out to the park, you were too much of a wuss,” He says as he looks for something in his coat. You dramatically gasp “Ok first of all, you're right, I would've never run away. Second, I have strict parents and you know that. Third I am not a wuss I just like staying home,” you sigh “who am I kidding I hated going out and being around people, especially with those dumb kids running around” You shake your head thinking of how introverted you were as a kid. Hopper laughs, throwing his head back watching you jokingly pout at him. He takes a cigarette out of his right pocket. “Well you were always the kid in the back of the room, quiet and shy, never understood how you could keep your mouth shut for so long” You grab the cigarette out of his mouth throwing it away somewhere in the car making him give you a glare “You know how my parents are, “be quiet,” “be good,'' “do good in school”, “no boys”” You say, quoting your parents' famous words. “Well at least they raised a good person,” He said, giving a genuine compliment your way. “Hah, that was all my doing” Frowning remembering how horrible your parents were at raising a child. You saw Hopper turning the radio on. You knew what he was doing but you weren't going to stop him at all. He turned it to the classic rock channel starting to sing and rock his head. Ah, how you loved him. Hey hey baby when you walk that way, Watch your honey drip, can't keep away Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh, ah, ahOh yeah, oh yeah, oh, ah, ah. “Here comes Jim Hopper, everyone missing members of Led Zeppelin'' You say as if there's a crowd. I gotta roll, can't stand still Got a flamin' heart, can't get my fill You laugh at how amusing he sounds, he's not half bad for the chief of police. Eyes that shine, burnin' red Dreams of you all through my head You throw your head back clutching your stomach, you just couldn't stop laughing. “Come on singggg, I know you know this one” Hopper says encouraging you to sing. “Noooo, are you crazy?!” You yell at him “Come onnnn” He pushes you You roll your eyes as he starts singing again. Hey, baby, oh baby, pretty baby Move me like you're doin' now- “Who knew the kitten could sing huh?” Hopper looks at you while you start singing with a big smile.

Didn't take too long 'fore I found out What people mean by down and out

Spent my money, took my car Started tellin' her friends she gonna be a star~ ------------------------------------❈---------------------------------------- “Thanks for the ride, really appreciate it Jim. Goodnight. Make sure to get some rest ok?” You say as you close the door “Yeah yeah mom, I get it” You give him a glare through the window door. Giving him a wave you turn around to your place. “Hold on!” You hear Hopper's voice shout behind you. Stopping in your tracks you turn around to see Hopper speed walking towards trying not to slip from the thick snow on the ground. The night was so beautiful, the snow was thick and flowing down like paper, it wasn't too cold but just cold enough to make the tip of your nose red. The street lights were on looking like yellow stars in the dark blue sky. It was perfect. “You forgot your bag,” He said, giving it to you. “Oh? OH thank you” you said, giving him a thankful smile while reaching for the bag. “It's fine, it's not like I'm gonna steal it now” Hopper chuckles putting his hands in his coat pockets. “Well, why would anyone steal a gift they gave to someone else?” You said giggling as you put the bag on. He grins “It looks good on you by the way, really suits you” “Oh, thanks” You blush at the comment while brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I was just thinking, you don't have to if you want, but I just wanted to ask you if u wanted to go on a date? I was thinking of a restaurant but only if u wanted to go there, we can go somewhere else, really up to you," he sighed "I'm gonna shut up now, have a goodnight” Hopper turned on his heel and started leaving but felt a tug on his coat. “I would love to go on a date with you Jim,” You said, giving him a gentle smile. You stood up on your tiptoes giving him a peck on the cheek. It felt different because of the stubble but you liked it. The butterflies in both of your stomachs were going crazy, fluttering around as if they were being chased by a bird. You wanted to stay in his warm embrace but fell back down due to the height difference.

“6 pm Friday at Johnnie's?” “I would love that, casual dress code?” “Why would we need a dress code?” He joked “Hoppperr” You hit his chest distancing yourself heading to your house. You stood on the porch seeing him waiting for you to go in your house safely. You lean against your doorway. “Goodnight Jim” God he loved it when you called him by Jim, it was like sugar on honey. “Goodnight kitten” You smiled at the nickname.

Heading inside you close the door, leaning against it. “EEEEEEEEEEE he actually asked me out, oh my god” You laugh at how excited you were acting. You couldn't wait. --------------------------------------❈-------------------------------------- Hopper headed to his truck getting in and turning the radio on. “Good job Hop, good job” He chuckled as he drove off. He couldn't wait.

#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #stranger things #x reader #(y/n)#(y/n) x reader

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

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The Hero's Countdown | PJM (One)

Summary: Soulmates: The one you are bound to. In this world, you feel everything they feel. Their joy, their pain, everything. Once day you feel the most excruciating amount of pain only to find out your soulmate has died. What happens when the God’s of Time offer to turn back time so you can make things right and save your soulmates life?

Pairing: Jimin x Female reader

Genre: soulmates au, Gods au, fluff, smut, angst, crack

Word Count: 9.4k

Warnings: swearing, suicide, mentions of sex, oc is kinda a bitch

Notes: And the first chapter is finally here! Sorry it took so long!! I don’t know why I have been so nervous to post this…but It’s going to be a fun journey! Send an ask if you want to be added to a taglist or if you just want to chat:) (Remember this is all fictitious)

Taglist: @mawwnsterr @fancycollectormoon

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June 21

Pain. Excruciating pain. You feel it in your chest first, then the intense feeling travels from your beating heart to the tips of your fingers. You choke on air trying to compose yourself, but the pain is so unbelievably powerful that you struggle to catch your breath. Something’s wrong. Something is terribly wrong. Your hand goes to your chest, you pull at your shirt as you try to breathe and then suddenly it stops. Just like that. Something happened. Something happened to him.

Soulmates: Two people with the soul connection who feel they are linked on a soul level in a significant or extraordinary way. In this world that means the person you are bound to. When you meet you feel an incredibly intense pull of instant recognition and intense attraction followed by intense emotions. And you feel everything they feel. Their joy, their pain, just everything if it’s considered intense. Physically and emotionally. And that doesn’t stop until you officially “connect” with your partner. What does that even mean? Connect? Does that mean fucking? That sounds like it means fucking. It probably means fucking. You don’t believe in all this bullshit though. The universes predestined bullshit can kiss. Your. Ass.

You’ve learned the hard way that even destined soulmates can’t always make it work…and leaving it up to fate leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. So you ignore fate. You do the very opposite of what fate wants. Fate is strong though and very hard to ignore. It pulls you in the direction of your soulmate constantly—quite literally. Whenever you get the urge, like urge to do something—like out of nowhere get the idea to visit the new bookstore down the block…even though you don’t care for reading. Yeah, that’s a sign that fate is trying to work its magic but you resist that god damn urge and do your own thing. And that’s just one example.

Feeling all your soulmates feelings wouldn’t be so horrible if the man you are destined to be with wasn’t so god damn emotional. Fucking Park Jimin. Yes, you’re well aware who your soulmate is…how else do you know how to avoid him so perfectly? As much as you can at least…considering… But he doesn’t seek you out either—thankfully. But you know he wants to. You can quite literally feel it…his yearning is so powerful it makes you nauseas. But he agreed to stay away. So now you live your life however you please! You have an amazing job that you love, a fantastic group of friends and a hot man you sex up on the regular. Things are good!

The only thing that isn’t good is that you still haven’t bought Isabelle a gift for her birthday party tonight. You’re walking on the sidewalk back to work from getting a coffee on this breezy Monday afternoon when you are hit with realization that you are the worst best friend ever. She always goes above and beyond for your birthday but you can’t even think of a decent gift for her! You listen to the click clack of your heels hitting the pavement as your mind wanders…what could you possibly get her that she doesn’t already have?

You feel your phone buzzing and speak of the devil.

“Hello?” You bring the phone to your ear and your coffee to your lips.

“Please tell me you didn’t invite Julio to my birthday event? Because I just got a text from him asking if he needs to bring anything.” You hear your frazzled best friend on the other line.

“He’s my date tonight.” You say nonchalantly. “Come on, when you guys drink together you…kind of…get along.” You shrug even though she can’t see you.

“Good lord, y/n. You know I can’t stand him. I know he’s got “that good dick” but couldn’t we have went one night without him.” she whines into the phone and you chuckle.

“I’ll make sure he behaves.” You promise. “Now tell me,” you stop at a cross walk and wait for the little person to light up. “What the hell do you want for your birthday?”

“…classic y/n.” Isabelle sighs out, “Just do what you did last year and buy me yet another scarf for my collection.”

“Okay I’ve only bought you like three scarves.” You defend with a pout.

“Four actually, but okay.”

“I’ll just figure it out. See you tonight boo.”

“Fine, see you tonight.” And then you’re bringing the phone down and clicking the end button. Isabelle and Julio (your fuck buddy) don’t necessarily get along. They’re both too similar, you think. But neither will admit that. You’ve been seeing Julio for a few months now, it’s nothing serious of course. He has yet to meet his soulmate and you’re just totally against soulmates. So it makes for good sex.

You walk up to your building and take a deep breath, time to get back to work. You love your job, you really do. But you constantly put your job before your sanity. Because—

“Oh hey.”

Him. You felt him before you even saw him…that’s how strong the pull is. Fate is a funny thing. It brought you to this job, and it brought you to him. But instead of purposely choosing another path and avoiding him like the plague you chose to endure. Because you fucking love this job.

You write scripts for video games and it’s the most fulfilling thing in your life right now…yes even more fulfilling than Julio’s dick. But seeing him 5 days of the week and feeling how he yearns for you is really fucking your head up.

“I said don’t talk to me, remember?” you say with a tight smile. “Seeing you is hard enough.”

Jimin’s eyes soften as he looks at you and he offers an apologetic smile.

“Goodbye, y/n.” and he’s walking past you as he decides to take the stairs while your lazy ass waits for the elevator.

Pain. You feel his pain. And you wince at the overwhelming feeling. But you have to endure and move forward!

“Afternoon y/n.” Your boss comes up to you as you both wait for the elevator. “You got that new script ready for me?”

“Yes sir, I’ll bring it up to your desk before I leave work today.” You offer him one of your sweeter smiles and he brightens.

“Great!” he chuckles wholeheartedly and pats your back, then he’s walking forward once the elevator arrives.

You sigh out in relief that he didn’t question you further…because in truth, that script is not ready and you’re about to have to work your ass off for the rest of the day.

~~~~~

It’s pretty chilly for being an evening in the summer but hey, you won’t complain. It’s better than the blistering heat from a few days ago. You have the address on your phone for the restaurant you’re meeting Isabelle at for her birthday bash. The streets are busy as usual since the city never rests. You walk towards a group of people when you suddenly are hit with an intense feeling of…despair? God, it hurts. But it’s over just as quickly as it started. You compose yourself and continue walking…a few worried looks from strangers but you brush it off.

“She’s finally here!” Isabelle slurs out, “My best fucking friend bitches!”

“Oh my god who let her get drunk before dinner?” you ask, scratching the top of your head as Isabelle rushes to hug you.

“It’s my birthday, I can do what I want.” She drunkenly giggles. “Hurry, hurry.” She ushers you to take a seat and you do. You plop down in the spot next to her, setting your birthday bag down on the ground.

“Another scarf?” she teases, pointing at the bag.

“And if it is?”

“Then I’ll love it you predictable bitch.”

“Hey gorgeous.” You feel a pair of lips kissing your cheek and you know just who they belong to.

“Hi.” You breathe out, “just getting here?” you ask and Julio nods his head yes.

“I didn’t want to get here way earlier than you…I wouldn’t have a friend to hang out with.” He playfully pouts, “But you’re here now.”

“Yes, now you have a friend.” You wink.

You’re about to speak again when another wave of pain hits you. You throw a hand over your racing heart and breathe out heavily.

“Hey, you okay?” Julio rubs your back, “y/n?”

And then it disappears as quickly as it came…

“Yeah, yeah.” You gasp out, “Jeez, wow.” You whisper. “I’m fine.”

Julio gives you a look of concern before he’s nodding his head slowly and turning his body to grab a drink.

“If you say so.” He mumbles.

You try to shake off these strange feelings, and try to have a good time. Isabelle is throwing back drink after drink and after dinner you join her. You begin to loosen up, the alcohol working its drunken magic on you. Isabelle is dancing on a table as the restaurants staff tries their best to get her down, you just watch and laugh like a maniac.

Everything is going good, really good…until pain.

“y/n? y/n?” You hear Julio call out for you desperately as you try to even out your breathing.

“Hey, you okay?” his voice sounds so distant, like he’s getting further and further away from you. “Get out of my way!” You now hear Isabelle’s voice, she’s pushing through the crowd that surrounds you. “I said, get out of my way!”

Then finally she’s at your side, you are heaving, you are struggling to breath. You feel your cheeks wet from the tears that managed to escape your eyes unknowingly.

What the fuck happened? What’s happening?

Finally, after several minutes of gasping for air, you manage to relax.

“What the hell happened? Are you okay?” Isabelle looks at you with worried eyes, her hand on your back as you straighten yourself.

“Isabelle…I think something happened.”

“What?”

“It’s Jimin, I can feel it.”

Isabelle’s eyes widen and she nods her head in understanding. “Let’s get you home.”

“You have reached the voicemail box of…” you slam your phone down on your coffee table and sigh out in frustration. You have called Jimin maybe 10 times now but it just keeps going to voicemail. What the hell happened? Is he okay? This feels wrong, you feel wrong. You feel empty for some reason like someone stole your life away, like they sucked it right out of your body. You feel weak. You are barely able to move from the coffee table from how fucking weak you are.

You decide to call it a night, you will just confront Jimin at work tomorrow and ask what the hell happened. You drag your weak, weak body to your bed and try your hardest to fall asleep. But all you can think about is Jimin, he’s taking over your mind. Like, you can’t control it. You see images of him and images of his life, maybe you are just imagining it? But you’re sure these are images of his life…is that something soulmates can do? You toss and turn for hours, until finally you see the sky turn a dark blue and eventually the sun is rising.

You decide to just say fuck it, and get up. You’ll get to work early today. You have so much trouble getting ready, you feel ill. Like, a demon sucked you dry of your energy. But you endure because you really need to see Jimin today.

You grab a coffee on the way to work when you feel yourself being pulled into the direction of your office—Jimin must be there. You walk a little faster and when you finally reach the building you notice something is off. There’s groups of people gathered around the building and police officers inside, you walk in and see your boss talking to one of the officers.

“Oh y/n!” your boss calls out to you, his hand raised up to get your attention, and then he’s waving you over.

“Yes?” you look between him and the officer, “What’s up? What’s going on?”

“Did you know Park Jimin?” The officer gets straight to the point.

“I…do…” your eyes scan the inside of the building and you notice a couple of women that work in your office crying into each other’s arms.

“Do you know if something was going on his life? Something that could lead him to commit suicide?”

“C-Commit?” you look around the room again, you notice your boss looking antsy and the couple of women crying did happen to work in Jimin’s department.

“Yes mam, we understand this is difficult. But any information you have could be crucial. We need to make sure we can rule this out as suicide and not something more serious.”

“He loved his job.” Your boss cuts in nervously, “So it’s not because we didn’t treat him well or something…”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “Commit suicide?”

“We found Park Jimin’s body this morning in his apartment. Overdose it seems. His elderly neighbor usually brings him breakfast in the mornings and when he didn’t answer she got concerned. She was shocked to say the least.”

“He-He’s dead?” you blink at the officer repeatedly, “He died?” you are in a state of shock yourself. There’s no way…you just saw him yesterday…but…but those waves of pain you felt then that huge wave that felt like…death itself.

“I think you’re wrong.” You say, in a state of denial now. “Jimin was just here…I just saw him yesterday.”

“Time of death is some time last night.” The officer confirms. “That’s her!” you hear the voice of a woman scream out. “That’s that bitch!” you turn around in a daze, trying to find the source of the screams.

“You fucking bitch!” you see a woman charging at you, screaming at the top of her lungs with her finger pointed in your direction.

“M-Me?” you point at yourself in confusion.

“He just…why couldn’t you give him a chance?” The woman breaks down, falling to her knees in front of you. “You’re his soulmate for fucks sake. This is all your fault!” She cries out, defeated.

You stand here, confused as hell. He told people? And how is this your fault?

“H-He’s not gone.” You say weakly, your shock still very fresh. “I’ll call him.” you quickly grab your phone from your pocket and dial Jimin’s number.

“You have reached the voicemail box of….”

You gulp, trying again…

“You have reached the voicemail box of….”

And again.

“You have reached the voicemail box of….”

Fuck, why isn’t he answering? You start to panic now. You blink back growing tears, your body seems to be growing weaker and weaker.

“He’s just…”

“He’s dead!” she screams out, looking up into your eyes, her own eyes bubbled over with tears. “And it’s your fucking fault!”

The officer is helping the women off the floor and escorting her outside the building. You stand here in complete shock still, your body about to give out on you. There’s absolutely no way Jimin is dead. And there’s absolutely no way it’s your fault. Right?

~~~~~

Your limbs are so overwhelmingly heavy as you are draped over your sofa. You are unable to move. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat. You are unable to form sentences at this point, you feel drained. Completely drained. You still can’t believe the news. Jimin is gone. You don’t want to believe it but you do feel heartbroken…you feel so lost and empty and incomplete.

You close your eyes, hoping to drift off into a deep, deep sleep.

“We should let her sleep…”

“No! Girl needs to wake up and we need to get this show on the road!”

“Jin…”

“What? The more time she sleeps the more time she wastes.”

“We literally control time we can let her sleep for 5 more minutes.”

“Exactly, we control it so you know how precious it is, Namjoon.”

You swear you hear voices but you’re too fucking tired to open your eyes, they sound so far away…

“Listen I’m only letting her have these 5 minutes because girl needs her beauty sleep. Do you see those horrible dark circles?”

“That’s what you’re concerned about?”

“Okay, she has like 30 seconds left and we are waking her ass up.”

“Fine.”

“Hey! Hey!” your shoulders are getting fucking rocked as somebody tries to wake you. “Wakey Wakey, hands off snakey!”

“She doesn’t have a snakey dude.” You hear another voice.

You slowly begin to open your eyes when you see a man with his hands on your shoulders. You scream. You scream bloody murder.

“Hey, woah, woah!” The guy puts his hands up in surrender. “Not going to hurt you!”

“We’re just here to talk.” The other voice cuts in, you snap your head to the side and notice another man. You scramble on the sofa, getting into a defensive position as you scream again.

“Have ourself a screamer, don’t we?” the first man winks, “Huh? Huh?” he opens his arms wide and shakes his head around. “No? Tough crowd.”

“Who the hell are you two? Take what you want! Please just leave me alone!”

“We don’t want anything and leaving you alone isn’t something we can do.” The second man says, he sighs out and crosses his arms. “Look, we need to talk.”

“Oh!” the first man quirks a brow, “We don’t want to take anything…no offense, maybe a little offense, but your apartment isn’t that ni—”

“Jin, now is not the time.”

“What the fuck is happening?” you yell out, “Who are you two?”

“Right.” The first man says, “Introductions. Should we just say who we are or should we do our little number that you refuse to rehearse?”

“We aren’t singing as our intros, Jin.”

“Why not? So unfair, Tae and Hobi do it.

“They’re a special breed.” The second man releases a long breath, “I’m Namjoon.”

“And I’m Jin.”

“And we’re—”

“The Gods of Time!”

You blink at the two psychopaths in your living room with your mouth wide open. What the fuck?

“How did you two get in here?!” you ask, deciding to ignore their little introduction.

“Walked through the front door.”

“But it’s locked—“”

“No, like literally.” Jin states, “We walked through it. Because we’re you know, Gods.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Did you just tell a God to shut the fuck up?” Jin grins, “Brave girl.”

“We have an order of business.” Namjoon rolls his eyes at Jin, “We need to talk.”

“We aren’t talking until you tell me how you got in my apartment! And what you fucking want!”

“He told you already,” Namjoon sighs, “We walked through the front door and we want to talk.”

“You walked through? Because you’re Gods? Right, like I’m supposed to believe that.” You huff out and Jin lights up with an idea.

“Here.” He’s suddenly handing you a knife. “Stab me.”

“What the fuck?” You hold the knife in your hand, where did he even get a knife so quickly? “I’m not going to stab you!”

“Just do it!”

“No!”

“Yeah, just do it.” Namjoon encourages you with a tired face.

“No!”

“Come on just a little stabby wabby.” Jin sings, “Come on!”

“Fine!” you stick the knife in Jin’s leg and he starts screaming in agony.

“What the hell!!!! Why would you really stab me?!?!? Oh MY GOD?!!!”

“YOU TOLD ME TO?!?!” you stand up in panic, rushing to his leg and seeing if it’s something serious.

“YOU MANIAC!!!! YOU REALLY STABBED—” then he’s laughing hysterically as Namjoon just claps his hands with an unimpressed face.

“Great performance Jin, but can we get to the point?”

“Performance?” you stutter, “You’re not hurt?”

“No, I’m a God. You think a little human knife can hurt me?”

“Wait, wait, wait! You really are okay? I stabbed you! Oh my god,” you start spiraling, “I stabbed someone.” You whisper. “Oh my god. Are you okay? I am so sorry!”

“Once again, we are God’s.” Namjoon states matter of fact. “Human weapons do not hurt us.”

Your eyes widen in complete shock, you look between the two men and start shaking your head—spiraling even further.

“God’s? God’s of what?” you breathe out. “This is…this is impossible.”

“God’s of time.” Jin snaps his fingers, “and do we have an offer for you.”

“W-What offer?” you plop down on your couch, your face has gone pale. What the hell is happening?

“Your soulmate, Park Jimin…” Namjoon begins. “Committed suicide last night.”

“And full offense girly, but it’s sort of your fault.” Jin chimes in. You feel your entire body go weak again.

“But we want to offer you something. We will roll back time by one month. Giving you the opportunity to make things right and save his life.”

“Turn back time?” you mumble, “That’s impossible.”

You watch as Jin rolls his eyes and with his pointer finger he’s making small circles.

“Turn back time?” You mumble, “That’s impossible.”

Suddenly you’re hit with Déjà vu. “Wait, didn’t I just say that?”

Jin grins and making small circles with his pointer finger again.

“Wait, didn’t I just say that?”

Your eyes go comically wide. “Woah. How did you do that?”

“God’s of Time, it’s literally our specialty.” Namjoon says.

“This girl really don’t listen.” Jin sits down on the couch next to you and you try scooting away.

“Okay…say you really can turn back time…why one month? And why are you giving me this chance?”

“One month because that’s how long it will take to change Jimin’s mind. And because…” Namjoon’s eyes slide to the side…”We were sort of pressured into this.”

“By who?”

Ding Dong

“Great, they’re here.” Jin whines, “I was hoping we would have more time with the human by ourselves.”

“Who’s here?” you start to panic, “Who pressured you?”

“Pressure? That’s not very nice to say.” You hear a new voice and it startles you. “Hi there.” You look up to see two new bodies in your living room. “We are—”

“Great, they’re going to sing.” Namjoon sighs. “On with it then.”

“Taehyung and Hoseok!” They say as melodically as possible, “God’s of Fate!” You swear you can see flowers and hearts and stars surround them.

“And we are not happy with you!” Taehyung dramatically pouts while pointing at you, “We have set up such a nice life for you but you always do the opposite. You really hurt our feelings.” Hoseok smiles a huge ass smile, ultimately confusing you further.

“God’s of fate?” you stand up and shake your head frantically. “What’s happening? What’s happening?”

“If you would have followed our path—the natural path—then you and Jimin would be happily together right now.” Taehyung lightly scolds you.

“But instead…” Hoseok begins, “You did the opposite of what we wanted and now look what happened.” He says with a smile still. “You messed with the natural order of things.”

“You’re saying it’s my fault? That Jimin is…”

“Didn’t I literally say it was your fault?” Jin questions and Namjoon swats his arm. “It’s okay though girly, we are offering you a chance to fix this. You can save his life.”

“He’s right y/n.” Namjoon walks closer to you, “You can save his life.”

You can save Jimin? How is this even possible? Suddenly, you hear faint knocking on your front door.

“Oh man. They’re here.” Taehyung looks towards the door.

“Well, we knew they would show up.”

“Who? Who?” you ask, clearly not ready for more guests.

“May I?” Hoseok gestures towards the door, asking if he can open it. You just shrug at this point.

Hoseok walks to the door and swings it open, revealing two more men.

“Oh if it isn’t mister sunshine and sunshine Junior.” The shorter man says under his breath as he walks past Hoseok and Taehyung. Another man following closely behind.

“We actually like those nicknames.” Taehyung says with a smile. “But yes, what are you doing here?”

“You know why we’re here.” The taller man smirks. “We have a soul we don’t intend on returning.”

“Who the fuck are you two?” you grit out, clearly tired of everyone at this point.

“Yoongi.” The shorter man states like he’s bored.

“And I’m Jungkook.”

“Okay? And?”

“Introduce yourselves properly you fools!” Jin yells out.

“Right right.” Yoongi nods his head subtlety, “God’s of Death.”

Your eyes widen in terror. God’s of Death? “So you kill people? Oh my god…you killed Jimin…”

“Okay, one… we don’t kill people.” Yoongi states and Jungkook jumps in.

“But we do like it when they die.” He says with big doe eyes and Yoongi’s expression changes like the realization has hit him.

“Yes,” he admits. “We do like that.”

“Actually we love it.” Jungkook pipes in again.

“Yes, we do love it.” Yoongi comments nonchalantly.

“And two… Jimin offed himself, we just wait to retrieve his soul.”

“His soul is all we’re interested in.” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “That’s all.”

“Oh? Is that all?” Taehyung mutters underneath his breath.

“Can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on and why you all are in my apartment?”

“Damn girl, you really don’t listen.” Jin puts a hand on his hip.

Namjoon steps closer to you again and pats you on the back, urging you to take a seat.

“Taehyung and Hoseok are the God’s of fate, they want to bring you and Jimin together for your epic love or whatever…Jin and I may owe them a favor. So here we are, the God’s of Time…offering you a chance to turn back time and save Jimin’s life. But the God’s of Death over here…” he gestures towards Yoongi and Jungkook, Jungkook looks at you with a wink, “…don’t want that. They’re here to stop you so they can keep their soul like the soul hungry bastards they are.”

The other 5 men nod their heads in agreement as you look at each of them incredulously.

“And you expect me to believe this?” you wipe your sweaty palms on your pants and sigh out heavily, not believing a word.

“Should you stab me again?” Jin offers with a grin, showing you his little human knife you just stabbed him with earlier.

“What??” Jungkook slumps his shoulders, “Jin got stabbed and I missed it?” Jungkook frowns, “I always miss the good stuff…anyway, I vote you stab him again.”

“No!” you’re quick to yell out. “No more stabbing.”

Jungkook physically deflates once again, clearly disappointed.

“y/n…” Namjoon puts his hand on your shoulder, “Make your decision. Do you want to save Jimin or not?”

Of course you want to save Jimin…you don’t want someone you know dead, like come on. But what does it mean to save him?

“Follow our path.” Taehyung whispers to you, “The natural path.”

“You mean your predestined bullshit?” you spit out and Taehyung and Hoseok frown.

“It’s not bull…” then he whispers, “shit.”

“You can say cuss words sunshine junior.” Yoongi smirks, “come on, say ‘fuck’ just once.”

“No!” Taehyung whines

“Stop trying to make our Taehyungie do bad things!” Hoseok stands in front of Taehyung, defending him.

“I’ll say ‘fuck’.” Jungkook looks around the room raising his hand, offering his foul language.

“You already say it all the time, doesn’t count.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “Get sunshine junior to say it though and I’ll give you 5 bucks.”

“Come on bro, say ‘fuck’ let me get 5 dollars.” Jungkook begs.

“Human money literally means nothing to us?” Jin questions.

“I still like to collect it.”

“Collecting souls isn’t enough?” Namjoon deadpans.

“I’m a collector, leave me alone.”

“More like a hoarder…” Yoongi cuts in, sighing out.

“Okay!” You stand, “Enough!”

“Finally, someone with some sense.” Namjoon says, “So are you taking us up on our offer? Going to save Jimin’s life?”

“Listen girly, take the offer. Be a hero. Because right now you’re technically the villain.” Jin says matter of fact, his hip poking out as his hand rests on it.

“Or live the life you want. It’s not your fault lover boy offed himself.” Yoongi walks closer to you. “He basically gave his soul for free.”

“You know Jimin was a good person…” Hoseok tells you, “You could feel it.”

You feel yourself grow guilty…this should be a no brainer right? You may not like the idea of soulmates but Jimin doesn’t deserve…this. He deserves to live.

“I’ll do it. I’ll make things right with Jimin, I’ll save his life.” Your firm voices echoes throughout the apartment and Jungkook scoffs.

“You think you can change his mind in a month? He’s set in stone, sweetheart.”

“One…gross, don’t call me sweetheart, and two, I can try.”

“Have fun trying with us by your side.” Yoongi states, a scowl taking over his face.

“She will have us buy her side as well.” Taehyung offers, “We will guide her every step of the way. You can rely on us, rely on fate.”

You roll your eyes, you don’t want any of these guys by your side.

“Is this your final decision?” Namjoon asks, he looks at you with a serious expression and you shudder.

“…Yes.”

“Did you hear that besties? Girl has made her final decision. Shall I do the honors?”

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. When you wake up y/n…it will be one month ago yesterday. Are you prepared for that?”

“Will I be aware?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’m ready.”

“Remember you have 30 days to make things right.” Namjoon reminds you and you nod your head.

“Okay, here we go!” Jin spins in circles and you all watch him …it’s lasting for several seconds too long, you grow confused. Jin keeps twirling around, doing little curtseys and now he’s doing the fucking robot…until Namjoon stands up.

“For heaven’s sake.” He uses his finger to spin in circles and things start fading to black, time slowly turning backwards.

May 21

It’s morning. You check your phone and it’s around 7am on Friday, May 21st. What the actual hell. It worked? You went back in time, right? This isn’t just some really incredible, elaborate prank right?

“If you’re thinking if this really happened…it did.” You hear Namjoon speak up from across your room.

“And if you’re thinking ‘wow these two super handsome guys really did that?’ we did.” Jin says hovering over you in bed. You can’t help but yelp, still surprised of their presence.

“Why are you guys here still?”

“Oh honey, it’s not just us.” Jin says matter of fact.

“It’s us too!” Hoseok says cheerily.

“Hoseok and Taehyung too?” you question slowly, your eyes scanning the room.

“Please,” Taehyung throws a hand over his heart, “Call us Hobi and Tae.”

“It’s just you four—”

“You really need to go grocery shopping.” Jungkook walks in the room with an apple in his hand, he brings it to his mouth and takes a crunchy bite.

“And as expected of the human world, the TV is trash.” Yoongi walks in after him, throwing your remote on your bed.

“Why the hell is everyone still here?” you yell out, grabbing at your hair. “I thought I was on a solo mission now!”

“Oh baby girl, it’s not just you anymore” Jungkook smirks, taking another obnoxious bite of his apple—your apple.

“Okay, if I didn’t want to be called sweetheart what makes you think baby girl is gonna pass?”

“I don’t know, thought I’d give it a shot.” He shrugs.

“Anyway,” you roll your eyes. “What do you mean it’s not just me?”

“You insist on saving Jimin’s life…we insist on keeping his soul. We have opposing goals here.” Yoongi explains, a bored expression drawn on his face. “We are going to make sure you are not successful. We can only interfere so much though.”

“And we,” Hobi cuts in, “Are here to make sure you are successful. You see, we are here to guide you on your little journey.”

“Think of us as your friends.” Tae grins at you.

“Yeah, I’d rather not.” You deadpan.

“And you two?” You point at Namjoon and Jin. “What is your purpose?”

“To make sure you don’t fuck up, to put it simply.” Jin states. “You do that a lo—Ow!” Namjoon hits Jin in the gut.

“What Jin is trying to say is, we are giving you a total of 3 mess ups. Once you strike through all 3, you’re on your own. We won’t manipulate time any more for a human like you.”

“A human like me?”

“I just mean, a human in general.” He clarifies and you relax.

“Can others see you?” You ask, quite curious. This whole thing is curious actually. You have 6 God’s chilling in your room right now and you are surprisingly chiller than you thought you’d be.

“They will…” Hobi’s eyes slide to the side. “Listen,” he sways on his feet. “We are going to be spending a lot of time together this next month so let’s all get along.” He smiles that big ass smile and you roll your eyes.

“Yes, let’s all get along!” Tae chirps, “Except maybe not with these two.” He points at Yoongi and Jungkook. Jungkook narrows his eyes at Tae and slumps his shoulders.

“I’m gonna get you to say ‘fuck’ sunshine junior, mark my words.”

“Not likely.” Tae narrows his own eyes before he’s spinning on his heels to face you again happily. “y/n.” he sings out, “Our new companion!” Hobi joins in on his song, they both start humming and whistling and suddenly Hobi is rapping. It’s all too much, really.

“Yo yo yo, Jin is in the house too—OW!”

“Anyway,” Namjoon brings a small book from his pocket. “There’s rules. Just a couple.”

“Rules?” you mumble, “What rules?”

“Rule number 1,” Jin starts, “You can’t tell Jimin you’re aware of his suicidal thoughts—this can just have more negative effects. Keep his little secret.”

“And rule number 2,” Namjoon closes the little notebook. “You can’t tell anyone about us.” He gestures towards all 6 of them. “You have to swear on this book.”

“What happens if either of those things happen?” You ask.

“Oh they won’t girl.” Jin shakes his finger at you. “Once you swear on a God’s book…you are bound to secrecy. You will literally not be able to talk about it. Your mouth will physically shut.”

“Jin’s right.” Hobi says, “That’s the law of the God’s promises.”

“And you are promising to us.” Tae adds in.

“That’s just the way it is.” Yoongi comments nonchalantly as he picks at his nails.

“Fine, fine. I get it. I’ll swear on the book.” You get up from bed and walk towards Namjoon, you eye his little notebook and then you look at him incredulously.

“Book of the God’s my ass! You can buy this exact notebook from the dollar store!”

“I like human objects too.” He mumbles shyly, “But it is property of the God’s so…are you going to sign it or not?”

“Do I…do I have to like sign with my blood or some—”

“—Yes.” Jungkook says.

“No, no. Stop that Jungkook,” Namjoon pulls out a pen from his pocket. “Just a regular pen. Also probably from the dollar store you speak of.”

“Okay, I got it…” you grab the pen from him and sign your name to the paper. The notebook starts shining a bright gold, almost blinding you. Then the glow fades and you see your signature in gold letters.

“It is done.” Namjoon says, nodding at the others.

“We are going to be with you as much as possible.” Taehyung smiles at you, “So please take care of us.” He bows his head towards you and you wave him off.

“You guys do realize I still have to work right?”

“Oh,” Namjoon’s eyes slide to the side, “We are prepared for that.”

“How are you prepared for—”

~~~~~

You sit in your little cubicle in complete and utter shock, your jaw literally on the floor.

“And this is our new team of writers, editors, and soundtrack producers. They’ll be working on a new game that is still under wraps.” Your boss gestures towards 6 men. The same fucking 6 men that were just in your apartment. Can you even call them just men? They are God’s!

“Please introduce yourself to the rest of the staff.”

“Right, I am Namjoon in charge of writing along with my partner Jin—”

“Jin is me, yes hi. Call me Worldwide—Hey!” Namjoon swats Jin’s stomach. But Jin recovers quickly, blowing a kiss around the office.

“I’m Tae.” Tae brightly waves at everyone, “In charge of editing scripts. Please take care of me.”

“And I’m Hobi, also in charge of editing! Let’s get along everyone!”

“Yo. Names Yoongi.” He quietly says, waving like a shy child.

“I am Jungkook, I am single and I—”

“They’re in charge of soundtrack production.” Namjoon cuts in. “Nice to meet you all.”

The office starts to quietly applaud, nodding their heads in approval as you sit here with your jaw on the floor. There is no way…absolutely no way this is happening.

“Ah, y/n!” Your boss calls out for you, he’s already walking to your desk. “Namjoon here says you all know each other, so I would like for you to help get them get settled in.” The group of 6 men follow behind him. You look at Namjoon like he is absolutely insane.

“Help them how?” you ask quietly. “Like, show them where the coffee maker is? Oh, look. Its right over there.” You point to the left of you. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh y/n! You’re so funny!” Jin slaps his knee, “I need help with some formatting on the first script I have…apparently you know a thing or two about that.” He grins at you and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t worry…” Hobi begins, his eyes looking around the office. “We won’t just rely on you for help around here…ah! There he is!” Hobi nudges Tae shoulder. “Jimin!” he begins waving the man over.

Jimin looks around the office as if he isn’t the only one with that name. He points at himself and mouths ‘me?’ Hobi and Tae smile widely and nod their heads in unison as they wave him over.

“Yes?” Jimin walks up to you all, his eyes on you…he feels himself grow nervous. “Can I help you?”

“Actually yes.” Tae starts, “Boss man here says you’re an editor just like us, maybe you can show us the ropes.”

“Ah.” Jimin slowly nods his head with his mouth slightly open. “I see.” Then he is nervously looking at you again. “Is that okay? For us all to be working together?” he looks at you while asking this and you scoff.

“I don’t control your life Jimin, do what you want.” You spit out and Jin hits your arm.

“What she means to say is, yes of course we can all work together!” he sings.

You release a long breath, remembering you are on a mission. You muster the fakest smile you can and make eye contact with Jimin.

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” You continue to grin and Jimin scrunches his brows as he slowly nods his head again.

“O...kay…”

Hobi jumps in excitement and repeatedly hits Tae’s arm, like he just got an amazing idea.

“Why don’t we all go out tonight to celebrate?”

“What are we celebrating?” you deadpan but Jin hits your arm again and leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Remember…fate is guiding you. Do as they say.” He says through a tight lip smile.

“Yeah…” you find the energy to say, “Sounds fun…let’s do that.”

You hate this. You are only barely talking to Jimin but you can feel the pull intensify with every word you say to him and every word he speaks to you goes straight to your heart and your fucking vagina.

To call Jimin attractive is an understatement. He is beyond that…he is beyond handsome, beyond cute, beyond gorgeous and beyond sexy. He has a charming way about him, his sharp jawline, his smile with those full, full lips, his eyes. He is effortlessly beautiful…and it drives you absolutely insane.

You remember the first time you saw Jimin…love at first sight? Also an understatement.

He was blonde then. His hair swept across his forehead, you would almost think that was his natural color because it looked that god damn good on him. Now his hair is black and holy hell, it is also his color. But you might think any color is.

“Celebrate how?” Jimin speaks up, his eyes going to Hobi.

“Drinks!” Tae chimes in, “But only one because we all have to work in the morning.” He chuckles and the rest of the boys join in.

“I don’t believe in hangovers.�� Jungkook says with his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk gracing his features.

“You literally had one like 3 days ago.” Yoongi comments, “You also said ‘I’m never drinking again’”

“That was a different Jungkook.” Jungkook snaps his fingers, “I’ve matured since then.”

“Yeah, right.” You laugh. “Also you guys realize tomorrow is Saturday…”

You actually laugh and the 7 boys snap their heads towards you and smile. All but Jimin…and kind of Yoongi.

“What?”

“You can laugh!!!” Jin takes your hand and high fives himself with it. “Amazing.”

“And you laughed because of me!” Jungkook cheers. “God, I knew I was fucking hilarious.”

“Chill out, kid.” Yoongi shakes his head.

“Anyway,” you clear your throat. “There’s a bar in the building next to us. We can meet at 7.”

“Actually let’s meet right after work, we can all walk together.” Hobi looks at you knowingly and you roll your eyes.

“Right. Okay, after work then.”

“Sure…” Jimin says slowly, “I will meet you guys here then.” Then he’s taking one last look at you before walking away back to his side of the office.

“Are you guys fucking insane?!” You whisper shout towards the 6 gods. “You work here now?!”

“We have to keep an eye on you and make sure everything goes smoothly…” Tae pouts, he messes with his neck tie nervously. “I even bought these cool human clothes…I thought maybe you would notice.”

“Yeah, yeah. You look nice.” You gesture towards his body and you swear you can see puppy dog ears and tail wagging behind him from how happy he is.

“What about me? What about me?” Jin motions towards his own body as he winks at you.

“You? Fine you look nice too.”

Jungkook slowly walks in the middle of your circle and shows off his outfit to all of you, spinning in a few circles.

“And me baby girl?”

“Call me baby girl one more time and I swear I will kick—”

“Jeez, no need to be aggressive!” Jungkook puts his hands up in surrender. “I’ll take the L for now.”

“Namjoon, please say something as the only person here who is sane.” You turn to face Namjoon and he is looking down at his own outfit.

“Human clothes are so boring.” Is all he says.

You can’t help but groan…then you feel it. Eyes on you. Not just any eyes. His eyes. You follow the feeling until your eyes meet his, he immediately looks away and you feel a sense of guilt. Jimin is going to kill himself? And it’s supposedly your fault? Can you fix this? Can you change his mind? Can you save his life? Can you?

~~~~~

The bar is quiet, well it is only like 5pm. But you assume in the coming hours it will be booming thanks to it being a Friday night. You are seated between Tae and Hobi as they fill your mind with thoughts of Jimin while he is in the bathroom.

“Can’t you just feel how badly he wants to sit next to you? His jealousy that you’re between us?” Tae giggles. “I can’t technically feel his yearning like you can but dudes, it’s so obvious.”

“I get it, I get it.” You groan, “So what’s the plan?”

“Oh that? You are going to ask Jimin out on a date.”

“A d-date?!” you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, “Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Not at all…” Hobi takes a sip of his beer with a fucking straw. “Trust us.”

You’re really about to trust mister sunshine and sunshine junior? They are drinking their beers with straws. Fucking straws.

“ You don’t owe Jimin anything.” You hear Yoongi’s voice from behind you. “You don’t want to be here y/n. Why are you forcing yourself?”

“She just wanted to hang with me.” Jungkook nudges Tae out of his barstool seat and takes it.

“Heeeey…” Tae pouts as he is left standing, watching Jungkook take his chair. “I was sitting there.”

“Say ‘fuck’ and I’ll give it back.”

“You’re mean.”

“Anyway,” you cut them off before they can continue, “Why do you want his soul so bad? Aren’t there more souls out there?”

Yoongi for the first time curls his lips upwards and smirks at you.

“Jimin is a pure soul. It’s worth more. And he gave it for free, his own will. That much more worth it.”

“Pure soul?” You raise a brow, is Jimin really that perfect? You can’t help but scoff.

“He’s a really good person, y/n.” Hobi says softly, “You know you can feel that.”

He’s right. When you first met him and you had that instant recognition, you could feel just how good he is. It hurt even more, considering how things went…

“I have shots!!!!” Jin comes up to you 5 with a tray of shots, “As the kids say, I am trying to get lit!”

“Barely anyone says that anymore dude.” Jungkook frowns, “Which is unfortunate because it… was…lit...”

“Where’s Jimin?” Namjoon asks, grabbing a shot from the tray, he takes a sniff and fake gags.

“Jesus Christ, I told you anything but Tequila, Jin.”

“He’s in the bathroom…” you say, your head falling in your hand on the bar top. You stare at all the bottles on the shelves and wish you could drown yourself in each one.

“I’m back.” Jimin says from beside you and Jungkook.

It looks like he washed his face with cool water, his bangs slightly wet. He’s nervous, you can quite literally feel it…that’s how intense it is.

“Jimin…” you say his name and it sounds and feels so weird on your tongue, his head whips in your direction with wide eyes and he tilts his head to the side.

“Yes?”

You two lock eyes, his gaze is intense. You can’t help but feel like you’re falling for some sort of spell as you stare at him. The pull between you two only grows…you find yourself leaning in closer to his direction before you’re shaking your head, clearing your throat and looking towards the other boys.

“Uh, there’s shots.” You point at the tray Jin is holding. “Let’s hurry up and take them.”

A few hours pass and your group is collectively drunk. Jimin seems to be the only somewhat sober one. Even Yoongi is shimmying to whatever song is playing! You look at Namjoon who is smiling at Jin as they talk to one another and you wave them over.

“I thought human things didn’t effect God’s? Why are you all so drunk?” you laugh, slurring your words.

“Alcohol is alcohol baybey!” Jin throws an arm around your neck as he continues to dance.

“Jin is right.” Namjoon points at him, “Alcohol is the same for us.”

You only nod in response as you eye the bar, Hobi and Tae are dancing with Jimin and he actually looks like he is enjoying himself. You stand from your stool and walk to the dance floor and join them, surprising Jimin.

“Came to hang out with the fun go—guys?!” Hobi moves his body expertly as he speaks.

“Just came to talk to Jimin…” you admit shyly and Hobi and Tae nod in understanding with their eyes wide.

“Good idea.” Tae yells out, “We will keep Yoongi and Jungkook distracted.”

“Thanks…”

“You want to talk to me?” Jimin says over the music, “Me?” he points at himself and you chuckle.

“Yes, you.” You reach down to grab his hand and fuck. You feel like you are being shot with electricity. “Uh,” you quickly drop his hand and gesture for him to follow you. “Come on.”

You and Jimin walk outside the bar, the night is a little chilly, even for May.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks nervously, he sways back and forth on his heels and you can feel his anxiety and it’s making you nauseas.

“Go on a date with me.” You blurt out.

Jimin is silent. His eyes harden as he stares at you and he breathes out roughly.

“You’re drunk.” He states.

“Don’t be difficult.” You begin, “Go on a date with—”

“No.”

“No?”

“You think I can’t feel it?” he asks quietly. “How much you…hate me…?”

You automatically get hit with a wave of guilt. He releases a few shaky breaths and continues. “You are forcing yourself…I don’t want to make you more uncomfortable around me.” He gives you a sad, soft smile and turns around to head back inside, leaving you out in the chilly May air.

“I thought you guys were fucking gods? I did what you told me and he fucking rejected me?!” you slur out angrily. Tae and Hobi exchange awkward glances before smiling for you.

“You have to put a lot of effort. Remember…you are working hard to change his whole mind. It isn’t going to be easy y/n. Even with us helping. We lead you on the right path but ultimately you humans do have free will.” Hobi says quietly, he looks around the bar to make sure no one can hear.

“And like Jungkook said…at this moment, Jimin is set in stone. It’s going to take some convincing.” Tae finishes. He messes with his neck tie some more before he is loosening it all the way. “And you better hurry to talk to him because he is with Yoongi and Jungkook. Who knows what nonsense they are feeding him!”

You look over your shoulder and Tae is right, Yoongi and Jungkook both have an arm draped over Jimin’s shoulders and chatting away. They both have sly smiles as Jimin nods his head in drunken concentration.

“Help me get rid of them…” you roll your eyes as you begin walking towards the God’s of death and their meal.

“You got it!” Hobi yells out brightly. “Let’s go TaeTae.” He grabs on to Tae’s arm and drags him towards the death gods. You follow closely behind eyeing Jimin carefully.

It’s a lovely spring day, the flowers are in bloom and the sky is blue with splashes of pink now that the sun is beginning to set. You finally found your dream job that you start in 2 weeks and an affordable apartment. It’s not thaaat much nicer than your previous place but still, an upgrade nonetheless.

Today you woke up feeling…different. Fuller, more whole. Something completely unexplainable. Once you stepped outside even the world looked more beautiful, colorful, vibrant. Your chest is warm and buzzing and you can’t help but fall in love with the feeling. What is going on?

You walk the streets in your restless city and you feel it. The pull. The pull is practically dragging you around without you totally realizing. You just walk the streets in a daze, the pull becomes more and more intense the closer you get to the main park downtown. You realize you don’t visit this park often which is such a shame because it is beautiful.

You stroll around, feeling yourself being pulled closer and closer to this gigantic tree in the center and then you feel your insides burst. Your eyes land on a figure, you can only see his back but you just know. He must feel it too because he is quickly turning his body around and facing you. His eyes find yours immediately and holy fuck.

You know him. As soon as your eyes meet you feel like you fucking know him. You feel yourself being drawn to him like there is spell you are both under. You don’t stop your feet from moving as you walk closer and closer. He only stares at you with wide eyes until his thick lips curve up into the most beautiful smile you have ever seen. Little did you know, this would be the only time you will see him smile like this.

Love at first sight? He is the most gorgeous human being you have ever had the pleasure of your eyes landing on. His blond hair swept over his forehead, his piercing eyes, his full lips, his entire figure. His beautiful, beautiful smile. He has charmed you. And it doesn’t help that you feel that instant attraction. That recognition and the intense, intense burst of love you feel.

But it is not your love that you are feeling. It is his. Because you feeling love for a someone you don’t actually know is impossible…that this is just some forced, predestined façade. And you are hit with the reality and the truth. You feel your insides turn from a gooey mess to hard. You feel yourself grow angry, you feel hatred grow within you and it must be intense because Jimin must feel it too. The way his smile drops and how his face goes pale. He takes a hesitant step away from you and looks at you with so much question. He feels how you loathe him.

You continue to look at Jimin as you walk closer and closer to him in the bar, Tae and Hobi pulling Yoongi and Jungkook off his body as you make your way over. Even walking closer and closer to him you feel all of your confusing feelings. You hate him yet you are drawn to him.

“Jimin.” You say his name, it comes out rough and breathless and he pinches his brows together.

“Yes?” he asks softly, he walks closer to you as well. “Is everything okay y/n?”

You swallow down your pride as you stare into his eyes. They look sad…empty even.

“Date…” you murmur. Jimin’s sad, empty eyes flash with a sliver a hope before they turn dark again.

“Why?” he finally asks…he walks just a bit closer to you and you step back, feeling suffocated. If he gets any closer you…

“I want to make things right.” You admit between a few breaths, “I want to get to know you.”

You aren’t lying, you do want to make things right. He doesn’t necessarily know what you mean but that’s okay. “I haven’t been the nicest to you but I want to change that.” You mumble.

“You want to know me?” he gulps, “You want to…spend time with me?” you can feel how nervous he is and you can’t help but chuckle just a bit.

“Coffee? We can start there.” You say, feeling your own nerves spiking. Who knew talking to your fucking soulmate could be this hard.

Jimin bites down on his thick bottom lip, his cheeks warming up as they turn a lovely shade of pink.

“Okay….” He says, trying to hide his growing smile “Coffee.”

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin angst #gods!au #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #the hero's countdown chapter 1

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ca-8 · 3 years

Text

Yakko x Reader Scenario: When You First Meet

'This is it. The beginning of the end.'

Gripping on the straps of her backpack, (Y/n) exited the bus and stared up at the water tower that displayed the famous Warner Bros. logo. As expected, it emitted a smug aura onto the entire area; however, surprisingly, there was a slight twinge of mystery to it as well. But she didn't have time to ponder about it, so she only gave it an uneasy look and headed straight for the entrance.

Her heart stopped. She knew the place was going to be busy, but it was like an entire New York City packed in one section! So many writers, producers, actors, large men carrying heavy sets, every type of person working in film was scattered all over the place. It was like an ocean, with the people as marine life doing what they're designed to do, and (Y/n) being the puppy that was abandoned at sea.

The moment it all settled in, an involuntary realization invaded her thoughts. 'I don't belong here.'

The young girl reminded herself to breathe and rushed over to a vacant wall, then pulled out her phone. She had already sent her mother about a thousand messages telling her she was here, but since she hasn't responded, a few more shouldn't hurt. Fingers rapidly typing away, she bit her lower lip, already wishing she had stayed on that bus.

"Oh, you're just gonna love it!" Her mother's squealing voice had already filled her skull. "You're so talented, I know you're gonna fit right in."

'Yeah, standing around all day with a bunch of people I don't know while doing something I suck at is exactly how I wanna spend my summer.' She let out a soft sigh. 'It's fine. Just shut up and make her happy, (Y/n).'

Several attempts of calling and texting later, no response. (Y/n) sighed again, and her eyes wandered over to the bustling crowd. 'No way. Absolutely no way.' But if she wanted to get the day over with, absolutely yes way.

First, she walked up to a lady looking down at the clipboard in her hands. "Um, excuse me," (Y/n) said.

The lady's head snatched up. "KYLE!" she yelled, her eyes now ablaze with fury, "YOU IDIOT! THAT GOES IN THE WAREHOUSE ACROSS THE STUDIO!" And like there was nothing but a breeze behind her, the lady stomped off to the poor soul that had to face her wrath.

The breeze took a step back and ran around the corner. 'Maybe I'll find someone else instead…!' (Y/n) stopped and spotted a man sitting on the steps that lead to the entrance of a small building. She swallowed whatever was left in her mouth and reluctantly approached him.

"E-Excuse me, sir?" she stuttered, hoping her voice was louder than the last time. As she got closer, (Y/n) noticed he was chuckling, and his gaze was glued onto a small piece of paper.

"I...I did it…!" he said. She yelped and shrinked back when he suddenly jumped to his feet. "I FINALLY DID IT! WE'LL SEE WHO'S REGRETTING THE DIVORCE NOW, MARGARET!" And with a manic laugh, the man dashed into the building.

'...Or maybe I'll just find it myself.'

It wasn't too long before (Y/n) got herself lost. Despite the help of maps that were stuck to some of the buildings, all of them seemed exactly the same. It was like a maze, and with each passing minute, she was more and more convinced that there was no finish line. Even worse, her mother was too busy to respond to anything she sent her.

'Oh, what should I do?' (Y/n) thought for the thousandth time. No matter how hard she pinched or held them, her arms refused to stop trembling. Not too long ago, the outside of the studio became deserted and she'd hate to walk in a warehouse and possibly interrupt something important, so asking for help again was out of the question.

...Or, perhaps it wasn't.

A tiny, hopeful smile crossed (Y/n)'s face when she heard the sounds of frustrated grunts around the corner. It was the first time she was so relieved to see a stranger.

And thank god that stranger was a security guard. Though she wondered why he had a giant net in his hand, she shoved the curiosity as far in the back of her mind as she could and reached up to gently tap his shoulder.

"Um, excuse me sir?" she asked as loud as she could.

His head whipped around, revealing angry eyes and a scowl that said he was ready to kill. But right as his gaze landed on her, it changed within an instant.

"Oh, hello!" he said with a bright smile.

(Y/n) blinked, cocking her head. ‘What was this guy up to?’

"I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where (M/n) (L/n) is filming? I'm her daughter, (Y/n), and I'm trying to look for her. She's not answering her phone either."

His joyful expression slowly melted into a confused one. "Uuhhh…(M/n) (L/n)?”

“Yes. She’s a part of Animal Kingdom? Do you know where that’s being filmed?”

“Oh! I know there’s a zoo around here called Animal Kingdom! I don’t think you’ll find it in a film studio, though.”

(Y/n) frowned. “...No, I mean the show. Aren’t they filming in a warehouse today? Do you know where that is?”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Her eye twitched, and she was just about ready to drown the entire studio in the nearest ocean. “N-Nevermind, I’ll just-”

As if the universe wasn’t satisfied with tormenting her enough, the security guard suddenly launched up into the air and flew into the sky. Right before her eyes, the heavens were coated with explosives of every color that ever existed.

“Oh my god!” (Y/n) yelled. ‘Who strapped fireworks on that guy?!’

“Oh, I knew you’d love it!”

Her eyes were ripped from the loud fireworks show as she was immediately smothered in a hug. “It’s so nice that another girl’s here! All the other ones here are either too busy or just keep shouting about a restraining order for some reason. I dunno, but anyway, I just know you're gonna love it here! Anyway, my name’s Princess Angelina Louisa Cantessa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third! But since we're friends now, you can just call me Dot.”

This confirmed it. This was a trap set up by her mother to deliberately drive her insane, because how else can someone explain the nut jobs and talking dogs in pink dresses?

A combination of those two things happened to be clutching her head and digging her face into hers. “...Huh?” (Y/n) mumbled.

‘Dot’ jumped off of her and smiled widely. “Sorry about Ralph by the way. I figured out you were coming at the last second and I really needed someone for your welcoming gift.” she said.

(Y/n) glanced up at the sky where the fireworks were slowly dying down. “Um...Is he gonna be okay?” she asked.

“Of course he will!” her backpack said.

The teen screamed and threw her bag on the ground. A hand popped out and unzipped it with impossible ease, then a taller boy version of Dot jumped out, pulling up his long brown pants and flashing a grin.

“H-...H-H-How did you…?!” (Y/n) stuttered, pointing at him.

“What? Never heard of cartoon logic?” he said, approaching her. “And Ralph’ll be fine. His skull’s so thick, concrete’s the last thing that can kill him.”

“What-?”

“Anyhow,” he walked over to Dot and put an arm over her shoulder, “The name’s Yakko, this here’s my beloved baby sister Dot, and this is-” He stopped, staring at the empty space to his left. He leaned into Dot, whispering, “Say, uh, you don't mind looking for Wakko, do ya sis?”

Dot glanced at (Y/n) for an uncomfortable moment and suddenly shot her brother a glare. "I've got eyes all over this studio, Yakko," she warned, slowly stepping away.

Now (Y/n) certainly knew she didn't see pairs of eyes appear around every inch of her sight. 'Oh god, I didn't breath in drugs on the way here, did I? Actually, that would explain whatever the heck's going on.'

Yakko smiled as he watched his sister leave and turned to (Y/n). He walked closer to her, and she realized that his half-lidded eyes had a strange glint in them. “Sooo, your name’s (Y/n), right? A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

(Y/n)’s face heated up. ‘First I get lost, then see a guy get blown up, and now some other guy’s flirting with me? ...To be honest, this is still better than what Mom had planned for today.’

“So what brings ya’ here?” he asked.

“O-Oh, well, my Mom was supposed to give me a tour of the studio, but I’ve been giving that to myself all day. I tried finding her, but I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near it by now.” Her eyes wandered over to the ground, but a realization made them perk back up and over to Yakko. “Hey, do you happen to know this place by any chance?”

“Know it? Please, my sibs and I live here, we know this place by heart and soul!” He mumbled something else, along the lines of “Basically made our hearts and souls”.

Her heart jumped; finally, a piece of good news. “Really?” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

He nodded. “So where do ya’ need to go?” Before she could answer, he pulled out a piece of folded paper and moved in so close, their shoulders were smooshed together. Yakko unfolded it, and it turned out to be the biggest map (Y/n) has ever seen. “Well, from here, you’re gonna need to take a right and continue straight until you get to the Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts exhibit. But be careful, I heard some of them escaped, and if anyone asks if you’ve seen any of them, don’t tell them I gave one to Dot as a late birthday gift. Anyway, you take a left from there, then a right where you’ll see the lot where they used to shoot Game of Thrones. Now this is only a rumour I’ve heard, but I think some of the producers are still on that set. If you happen to see them, do not, I repeat, DO NOT mention season eight, or maybe just don’t mention the show at all. Actually, don’t even look at them. As a matter of fact, you probably shouldn’t even go there at all, just keep heading straight until you get to the D.C. Universe lot. Then you just take left there, then a sharp right over over, then you keep going straight until you get to here, turn up over there, turn right there, and then you’re there. Did ya’ follow all that?”

(Y/n) stared at his face, which was practically radiating with enthusiasm, and she felt her eye twitch again. “...No,” she said, shaking her head.

His smile dimmed, but it became just as bright as the sun again a split-second later. “Ah well, maps are gettin' old anyways,” he said, throwing the map over his shoulder. “WAKKO!!”

And, low and behold, another anthropomorphic dog popped out of nowhere, and (Y/n) was starting to question if there was an army of them hidden somewhere. But she had to admit, it was pretty cute how this one was dressed in an oversized blue sweater and red hat.

“Tablet, please,” Yakko said politely, holding out his hand.

‘You're not gonna walk me there-?'

Wakko suddenly held his head back with his cheeks puffed out, then leaned into Yakko’s hand as he forced out a small object from his mouth. After an incredibly uneasy moment, a tablet glazed in spit was in Yakko's grasp. While he praised the little guy, (Y/n) forced back the urge to vomit.

“E-Ehhhh…?” She couldn’t say anything else while her gaze frantically went back and forth from Wakko and the regurgitated tablet.

“Oh! Where are my manners?” Yakko said. “(Y/n), this is my dear little brother, Wakko. Wakko, this here’s our new special friend, (Y/n).”

“Hello!” Wakko greeted, who was suddenly in her arms. “You’re really pretty!”

“Ehh? Thank you? I guess??” she said apprehensively, and finally managed to make eye contact. Despite his...quirks, he's actually a little adorable... She let herself grin a little.

The moment of semi-peace was ruined when she took notice of Yakko’s narrowed eyes. “ALrighty, (Y/n)!” he said loudly, grabbing his little brother by the collar and gently setting him on the ground. “Animal Kingdom, right? Let’s get ya’ right over there.” He moved right beside her and taped the screen a couple times.

“Um, what’re you doing exactly?” she asked.

“Doing what every person does to get somewhere nowadays.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her against him, and (Y/n) flinched from his touch. “Please keep your arms, legs, and personal items inside the tablet at all times.”

Just when she was about to question him for the hundredth time, he pressed the screen again, and her vision became nothing but white. Her body felt like it was launched into a tornado; a strong force of wind thrusted her back, and somehow, the boy’s arm kept her from flying off from his side. A second later, her feet were back on the ground, the sky was where it needed to be, and reality was back in place.

Except for (Y/n)’s mentality.

She stumbled around, trying to find her balance as the world unbearably whirled around her. Finally, she shook her head, and quickly turned back towards Yakko, whose face tried to tell her whatever happened was perfectly fine and normal.

“What was THAT?” she yelled, staggering towards him and gripping his shoulders.

And he still had the audacity to have that 'why-are-you-freaking-out-so-much-we-do-this-every-Friday' smile. “Thank you for attending Warner’s Travel Tours! I would say my Agent Ralph’ll take your bags, but I left him alone with my sibs, so he’s probably in the middle of the Pacific Ocean by now.”

(Y/n) could only stare at him. Her mind was twisting and turning, trying so hard to make any sense of what happened but only making her headache grow larger and larger. And then, her thoughts just went blank.

She smirked. Then giggled. And a few seconds later, she had burst out laughing whilst holding her stomach. (Y/n) looked back up at Yakko, wiping a tear from her eye. “Th-Thank you…” she said, catching her breath.

His smile had grown and she thought his white cheeks were red for a moment. Yakko had opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a net suddenly covering his entire body. Ralph was behind him, his skin and clothes burnt and ears practically smoking. “You’re coming with me, Warner!” he said.

And yet, Yakko only grinned. Like physics was his enemy, he disappeared from inside the net and appeared sprouting from the security guard’s back, cheerfully waving at (Y/n). “I’ll see ya’ around, yeah?” he said, then ran around the corner with Ralph sprinting right after him.

(Y/n) giggled and reached for the straps around her back. But when she only felt the (f/c) fabric of her shirt, her smile dropped, and a deep sigh escaped her lips. “Great…” she whispered.

“(Y/N)!”

She gasped as a pair of arms squeezed the life out of her. Her mother spun her around to face her gleaming smile, which was immediately replaced by an apologetic frown. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your texts! That scene took forever, but I’m glad you found your way here! You’re so smart! Anyway, I know we don’t get as much time now, but there’s still so much we’ll be able to see!...”

She rambled on and on and on and on. Her daughter’s shoulders slumped and she followed her to where she wanted her to go, but the frown on her face didn’t last long when she remembered the fun she had just a few seconds ago. ‘Maybe this summer won’t be that bad.’

#is this how you write him lmao #i love this boi so much #animaniacs #cartoons #x reader #fanfiction #the reader in this is like 15 dont worry lol #im bored #yakko warner

139 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Hue and Cry XVII

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, some elements untagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: The reader and Zemo try to figure out what’s next.

Note: Hey, I banged this out quicker than expected. This part went longer than I expected to not as much happened as I thought hahaha. But here we go, again.(I will try to update the masterlist asap)

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

Two Summers Later

The sun raised beads of sweat across your brow, even in the shadow of the tree. A gentle breeze rolled over the grass now and again, a soft sort of heat. You laid across the blanket in your thin dress, a subtle movement beside you, low babbling and grasping fingers. You breathed in the scent of pollen and watched the lush leaves sway above.

The footsteps were light but he was careful not to frighten you. The baby girl murmured, over a year old now. She stood, unsteadily, and he caught her before she stumbled too far. His shadow loomed above you as he lifted Elina and smiled at her round cheeks.

“How is my little baroness?” he cooed as he bounced her and her gibberish grew louder as she grabbed at his pale tunic, “my lady?” he peered down at you, “you look… serene.”

“She likes to watch the cloud but it’s much too bright today,” you sat up and grabbed your cane from against the trunk. Lord Zemo offered his hand and helped you to your feet, “so we have watched the bloom instead.”

“She is getting big. More agile,” he commented as she tugged at his beard. He’d grown it over the winter but hadn’t cut it even in the heat. She liked to pet it and you suspected that was the reason for his obstinacy, “how will you keep up with her?”

“I have learned,” you poked him with the tip of your cane, “still learning.”

“Very quickly,” he praised, “the accent is better,” he pinched two fingers together, “I almost believe you a woman of this land.”

“Sometimes I believe it myself,” you went to the bench and sat heavily. Your hip never healed quite as it had been before so you limped with the carved wood capped with silver and made the best of it, “bring her here,” you set the can aside and pulled the thin scarf over your shoulders, “she should eat.”

“I told you, a wet nurse would do her better,” he neared and handed her over after a final peck on her cheek, “and she is getting older. She eats at the table now.”

“She will have some proper food when we get in,” you covered her against your chest and unlaced the front of your gown, “I like having her close.”

He nodded and paced through the grass. He removed his silk cap and ran his fingers through his dark hair. He was anxious as of late, you noticed only because it was an unusual trait for him. He sighed as he tucked his hat into his belt.

“Would you tell me?” you asked sharply as Elina latched.

“Tell you what?” he tilted his head coyly.

“What makes you uneasy?” you urged.

The tugging in your chest calmed you as you cradled your daughter close. When she was born, that had been difficult. She reminded you of her father then but now she was yours. She was the only gift he’d ever given you.

“It is… complicated,” he said with a frown, “I think it best we put the child down before we talk on it.”

“If you wish,” you relented, “Werner says she is doing well. I went to him this morning.”

“And you?” Zemo crossed his arms, “does he say you are doing well?”

You kept one arm around Elina and unthinkingly brushed the scar that stretched from your hairline to your chin, a rippled line along your cheek, one of a dozen markers of that fateful day. You still dreamed of it but they weren’t so much nightmares as vague memories.

“I will need the cane so long as I live,” you said and dropped your arm back under the scarf, “the scars will fade but not entirely. I suppose none of that matters.”

He nodded and rubbed his chin as he began to pace again, “back from the dead,” he mused, “we have a legend here, about a woman, a queen…” he went on, “she married a king who did not love her nor she him. He wanted another and he was… quite intent on it. So he accused her of adultery and witchery and passed on her the harshest sentence; she was drawn and quartered, pulled apart by horses.

“We have since done away with such punishments, too savage, but the legend goes that they buried the parts of her and the king married his lover on her grave. The gods saw it as an affront, the lies, the trial held in their names, the death imparted in the same vein, and then a mocking marriage on the site of their sins…

“In her casket, her body reformed though she still showed the signs of her fate. She climbed out of her resting place and visited her king in the night. She’d never done that before you see because he had no love for her, he never even tried, and she tore him piece by piece, worse even then the horses. Fingers, toes, tongue… balls, every bit of him plucked little by little until he was nothing.

“The legend never did say where she went after that, her grave was found disturbed and her body gone. Those women who suffer with violent or cruel men, they pray to her, they burn candles for her, and even, they kill their men for her.”

“Why are you saying all this?” you interrupted as you wiped up your chest and clumsily tied up the laces of your dress as Elina slobbered down it.

“Because I see you are reformed like the queen but I wonder, where is your sense of vengeance?”

You were quiet as you fixed your dress and lifted Elina above the scarf to pat her back. Soon she would no longer take the nipple and you were stubborn to keep it up for so long but the time passed and the thought of separation frightened you. Soon she would be old enough to realise how odd everything was and she would ask questions. You weren’t sure if you could ever answer them.

“Take her please,” you held her out and he came to lift her. He set her down on her feet instead and held her hand as she took some steps. She grew more bold by the minute. He bent as he ushered her around. You planted your cane in the ground and stood, “vengeance,” you said carefully, “I remember you warned me not to trust you, is that why? Are you ready to use me against him?”

“I always knew you were clever,” he smiled as Elina bent her legs and bounced in place. He chuckled at her and suddenly scooped her up. He tossed her and caught her as she trilled in excitement, “the time comes closer but the path is not clearer.”

You watched him as he stilled your daughter and balanced her against his side, “I don’t know if I can ever face him again,” you confessed.

“That is not what I ask,” he said, “it is not what I intend but...the winds begin to blow and I must let them carry me.”

You followed him as he set off towards the castle, The Tower Zemo, a bastion of brick among the grasslands. It was so tall one could see for miles in any direction and it could be seen in turn from just as far. He was patient as your cane plunked down after each step and he made silly faces at Elina.

“You have bided me longer than I expected. And her,” you said as you approached the open doors of the castle. The stairs were another task but you’d learned to take them with your hip.

“Her? You think I forsake her her father? She is nothing like him,” he replied as he waited at the tip of the steps, “and she is all the good parts of you. All that he didn’t take.”

“I am indebted to you, I am aware of that, but you do not attempt to collect your dues,” you challenged as you came level to him, “it makes me wary.”

“Would it be too… ridiculous to say that she is payment enough,” he smiled at your daughter, “she has brightened many of my days here.”

“It is because I know how things are. How it works among you noblemen,” you countered, “there is something more you want.”

“Tess,” he called and the pudgy maid appeared, “she is hungry, see that she is fed before she is laid down.”

“My lord,” Tess took the child eagerly and poked her nose playfully, “come here, little poppy.”

You watched her go as she began to sing to Elina. Her voice carried through the corridors as her wide hips swayed and her white hair wisped from under her cap. The old woman had seen your daughter into the world and since helped keep her there.

“So what is it you haven’t told me?” you turned on Zemo.

“Wouldn’t you like to sit?” he asked slyly.

“You are welcome to recline, sir, but I would hear you now. I’ve waited long enough,” you insisted.

“Well…” he took a deep breath and walked ahead of you. He turned back and clapped his hand together as the summer flowed in through the open doors, “I must send you away.”

“Send me away?” you gulped and looked to the door which Tess had just taken your daughter through.

“You will have Elina, I am not heartless,” he said, “though I will miss the little baroness.”

“Where are we going?” you quivered in relief.

“I have a castle on the lake, Heinrich’s Creek,” he explained, “it is a lovely little place. My mother’s favourite of my family’s holds. It is far away from court, further than this, and safe. Only my blood knows where it lies and… so only me and those who I would have escort you.”

“And why? Why do we have to go? Why now?” you prodded.

“I have received a letter from your King Samuel, co-signed by my own king. A party is on the road already and I have been once more tasked with hosting the negotiations. Your people are persistent. They will come here and I will represent the kingdom in these meetings and hopefully I can appease them quick enough that I needn’t worry about them sniffing around,” Zemo bristled, “I have not been allowed the privilege to know of who I host but any in the capital for the tournament, they would know the woman who gave them such a violent finale.”

“And after?”

“We will see how it unfolds first. It will be a chance to gain a measure of the climate. I might even hear after your former keeper, then I will decide what needs be done,” his dark eyes narrowed as mischief ticked in his cheek.

“Why?” you asked, “why cling to it?”

“I am as stubborn as he,” he said carefully, “I was willing to set it aside but he could not. And, my lady, if you haven’t the fire left for your vengeance then I can simply take it upon my own wrath.

“Perhaps it is low of me but how he treated me, how he chased me out even if it did prove convenient to my deceit, it cannot be forgotten. And your people, the war I fought against them, they come to us for help and yet they still boast of their victory. I was there, no one won those battles.”

“So it is all a game of war?”

“Oh, no, I do not long for another war but… retribution leaves few options for the wronged,” he said.

You lowered your chin and moved around him. You sat on the stool by the wall and leaned back against the stone. “And if it put Elina in danger?”

“That is the last thing I want to do. That is why I would send you away.”

“But you said it yourself, you will have need for me… what then?”

He sniffed and his sole scuffed on the floor, “I promised you Elina’s safety, her life. You knew yours wasn’t part of the bargain.”

“I know but… if you--”

“I have friends who can see to the girl. I have made arrangements for the little baroness.”

“But--”

“It was never a title I gave her lightly,” he intoned, “she has noble blood and I have no heir. She will grow, she will live, she will flourish.”

You gripped your cane tightly and ran your nails along your skirt, “when do we leave?”

“Within the month. The party will not be here so soon, their progress will be hampered by the heat. There are droughts in the west.”

“And we will be safe at the Creek?”

“Impenetrable,” he assured, “enjoy your time there with your daughter.”

“While it lasts, right?” you uttered.

He looked away grimly and brushed his knuckles against this beard, “we both knew this wouldn’t go on forever.”

“Yes, we knew,” you stood and held your hip, “but you can’t blame me for hoping it would.”

313 notes · View notes

rowanaelinn · 3 years

Text

Marry me.

warning : nsfw

this is my first time writing smut or just writing a fic in general so i’m sorry if it’s cringy :(

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you speechless before, buzzard.”

Rowan looked up to meet her eyes. He could see the hint of worry, hidden by her smirk. He hated to see any other emotions on her face than pure happiness. He would normally try to wash away the worry, but right now he had to focus on his own emotions. Aelin had always been the kind of person to say disturbing things and it was one of the things he loved the most about her. He would never get bored at her side, even if she settled and became immortal. But now, she had just said the most disturbing thing Rowan had ever heard in his three centuries of life.

“You..” He began and had to take a minute so his voice would stop shaking, he wasn’t ashamed to show emotions in front of her. Never in front of her. “You want us to marry?” He had to be sure because there was no way he heard her right.

She took a deep breath and nodded with a small smile on her perfect face.

“Just… Give me a minute, Fireheart.” He shook his head, trying to chase away Lyria’s screams and the images of her dead body. He had left her alone. If he had been capable of doing that to his mate, what would he be able to do to his wife? No matter that his feelings for Aelin were stronger and deeper than anything he had ever felt for anyone before, he was still a bad person. He would drive a dagger through his heart before hurting Aelin intentionally, but what could he do unwittingly? He took her hand in his and guided her so she straddled him. His hands automatically found her waist and hers went to both sides of his face.

“I know what you are, Rowan. And I want nothing more than what you’re already giving me. I want nothing more than your love. You’re already giving me so much .” She confessed and kissed him. It wasn't heated or guided by passion. It was her way to show him she was saying the truth. “You’re everything I want, and you are more than enough, Rowan.”

“Fireheart…” He murmured when she pressed their foreheads together.

“I love you, Rowan. That’s why I want to marry you, not because of what you can bring me to win this war.”

“The war is still a reason, though, isn’t it?” He asked and she sighed, closing her eyes.

“It makes me want to do it earlier and quicker than what I wished. I wish we could have waited after my coronation, so we could have everything you and I ever dreamed of, but time isn’t our ally.” She opened her eyes and as always he was struck by the intensity of her gaze. He couldn’t look away from her even if he wanted to. “But something tells me you would be happy to skip the endless wedding celebrations Terassen has to offer.”

She smiled and he chuckled softly, a sound only Aelin have the privilege to hear. “You know me so well.”

“I do.” She kissed him. “But if you don’t want to marry me, it’s okay.”

“I’ve wanted to marry you since the moment you smiled at me through your flames.” He told her. The Gods knew how much he wanted to marry her, his queen, his… No, he had to get rid of this traitorous thought. He wanted to marry her, but he wasn’t really sure why she would want him .

“Yeah?” She asked with a smile. He could see the concern leaving her beautiful face.

“I’ve wanted to do so many things to you, with you, at that moment. Marrying you was one of them.”

“Other things?”

“Off-topic” He growled and she laughed.

“You never answered, buzzard.”

He took her face between his hands, forcing her eyes to meet his. “It would be an honor to be your husband, Fireheart.” And he kissed her. Both of their smiles preventing them from deepening the kiss, but he didn’t care. All that mattered in the world was the female in his arms. He knew she wasn’t only marrying him for love, but also for the security of Terrasen. If anything happened to her, Terrasen would have a king she trusted. Someone who thought as she did, with the same values. Deep down, he knew he would be lost without her. He would ask Lorcan or anyone else strong enough, to kill him. Life didn’t have any sense before he met her, and it would lose all sense if he lost her.

“If you keep kissing me we won’t leave this room.” She murmured onto his lips, making his smile bigger. He bought his lips back on hers, enjoying the feeling. “We need witnesses.” She interrupted again.

“Aedion and Lysandra.” They were the only two people other than Aelin he trusted on this boat. A year ago, it would have been Lorcan, Gavriel, or even Fenrys. But now he couldn’t even trust them with being around Aelin, not when they were bond to another queen. “I want our family to be here.”

Aelin’s smile was so contagious he started smiling again, too. “I like the sound of that.” She said, softly. He raised his eyebrows to ask a silent question. “ Our family.” That’s what they were, their family. Rowan already thought about getting the same tattoo as Aedion, all their names, close his heart. He would get it if he survived this war.

“You go wake up Lysandra.” He said, taking his hands off her. “And I’ll go wake up Aedion and the captain.”

Aelin knocked on the door as fast and as strong as possible, not caring if she woke up everyone on this floor. She was feeling so much, so much that it made her shaking. Lysandra opened the door after two minutes of intense knocking. She looked tired, and Aelin might have felt bad for waking her up if she wasn’t feeling so much joy. Aelin took a breath and then, “I’m getting married.”

Lysandra frowned, opened her mouth, closed it. Opened it again, and closed it again. She shook her head, sighing. “I don’t know why I’m still surprised.”

“I’m getting married right now and I need a witness. Are you in or do I have to wake someone else up?” Aelin asked, knowing very well Lysandra wouldn’t miss a secret wedding for all the world.

“Don’t you dare, and come in.” She said and took Aelin’s arm a little bit rougher than necessary to drag her inside her room. Aelin stumbled over some clothes on the floor, Lysandra was the messiest person Aelin ever met.

“Lysandra I don’t have time.”

“I think your future husband can wait two minutes.” Aelin’s heart clenched when she heard that. Future husband . Even if she could never tell him they didn’t need to marry because their connection was deeper than any vows they could make before the Gods, at least she could have him this way. Not as her mate but as her husband. “We need to do something.”

“I know,” Aelin said, voice quieter than a minute before. A wedding changes everything. “The plan-”

“Don’t,” Lysandra ordered. “Tonight is your happy night, Aelin. We’ll talk, yes, tomorrow. Tonight you think about nothing else than being happy and beautiful.” She said with a small smile on her face. She cupped one of Aelin’s cheeks, the gesture of a sister.

“I’m always beautiful.” They both laughed.

“You said he liked gold, didn’t you?” Lysandra asked after a moment when she walked toward the little wardrobe.

Aelin furrowed her eyebrows. “Why?” Lysandra turned toward the queen and smirked. Aelin didn’t know if she found the gesture amusing or scary.

“I have a wedding gift for you.” She said and started looking for something in the wardrobe.

“I am not getting married in a nightgown, Lys,” Aelin warned but a small smile was on her face. It would be hilarious to see Rowan trying to control himself if she walked in the room with the little nightgown she wore in Rilfhold. He would probably kill the captain for seeing her in such scandalous clothes. He would maybe try to kill Aedion too, cousin or not.

“Of course you’re not, you’re getting married in this.” She said as she turned around. She had a very long gown in her hands. Aelin's breath caught as she admired the garment. The gown was a deep green that reminded her of Rowan's eyes and when she looked at Lysandra she realized that this was no coincidence. The bodice was adorned with gold lace as was the bottom of the gown.

She didn't know how much this gown cost but it had to be one of the most expensive garments she had ever seen.

“Why… Why do you have that?” She asked, getting closer to the dress to touch it. When she looked up at Lysandra she had a feline smile on her face.

“I just packed some fine clothes, in case we needed them.”

“When could we need clothes like that in the middle of a war?” Aelin asked, tracing the lace pattern with her fingertips. It was one of the prettiest gowns she had ever seen. It was perfect for her. Green was Rowan’s color and gold was hers. It was like the dress was made for her. Made for this special occasion.

“With you, I’m never sure of anything. And see, I was right!”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” She did, she really did.

“Stop using your mouth and help me get into this.”

The gown was perfect, and when she looked in the small mirror Aelin couldn’t see everything, but she knew she looked good. More than good actually. Lysandra hadn't done much to Aelin's hair. She brushed it and tied two front strands to the back of her head to highlight her face and eyes.

“You look great, Aelin.” Lysandra smiled as she made Aelin turn on herself to admire the gown. “Listen I know it is tradition to have something new, something old, something borrowed, and something blue when you marry.” Aelin couldn’t suppress her smile. She didn’t have a lot of memories with her parents but she remembered her mother telling her everything about her wedding. Her gown was blue, Aelin’s father had given her the amulet of Orynth, and Aelin’s uncle had let her borrow one of the tiaras from Terrasen’s collection. She wished her parents could be here tonight.

“The gown is new, you have blue eyes so let’s pretend it works, your future husband is old as hell so he can do the trick.” Aelin burst out laughing. A loud laugh, pure of joy. Lysandra laughed too and made Aelin turn around to look at her. “You need something borrowed.” The shifter said and started taking off the bracelet from her wrist. She took Aelin’s hand and put it in it.

“A bracelet?” She asked as she looked at it. It was a beautiful jewel. It was simple, a gold bracelet with three small pendants attached to each other.

“Sam gave it to me, as an early birthday present. The summer Arobynn sent you away.” She looked up at Lysandra who had a sad smile on her face. "Sometimes I wonder if he knew that one day you and I would become friends. And if he didn't see us as three people who grew up together against a common enemy."

“I can’t…” Aelin’s voice broke and she had to fight against the tears. Sometimes she wondered the same, and she wondered what would happen if Sam was here with them now.

“Take it. So you have something from me and something from him.” Tears were rolling down her face.

“Lysandra, I can’t thank you enough…”

“You don’t need to.” She said and took Aelin in her arms. The two women hugged each other strongly. “I know he is watching us right now, and I know he is happy.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. He is proud of you.” They let go of each other and Aelin wasn’t the only one crying. “Let’s go, his highness is probably waiting for you.”

Aelin was putting on her shoes when the door to the room opened, slamming into the wall. The two women turned to see Aedion enter the room, dressed in his fighting clothes, as tradition required in Terrasen. “Girls, don’t wanna rush you but the captain is a cranky bastard and-” He stopped when his eyes found Aelin. “Fuck.”

“Be careful what you say, this my work of art,” Lysandra warned.

Aedion’s mouth opened slightly as he looked at Aelin's outfit. His mouth formed a smile. Big and bright. “You… You look amazing, Aelin.” He said as he walked towards her. Aelin smiled at her cousin and held out her hand for him to take in his. Aelin could see the happiness on her cousin's face, the only member of her family who was still alive. His approval was important to her.

“Will you walk me?” Aelin asked and he squeezed her hand.

“Of course.” he nodded briskly. He shook his head, letting out a breathy laugh, and repeated, "Of course."

“I’m gonna join the groom. Don’t take too much time.” Lysandra said, put her hand on Aedion's shoulder and Aelin couldn't help but notice how her cousin looked at her friend as he turned his head. These two had been flirting since they met but recently that had changed. It had become real. She was happy for him, for both of them. Happy that they found some happiness in the middle of this chaos.

“Not like you did?”

“Keep your pretty mouth shut, Aedion.” The shifter teased before leaving. Aedion turned his head back to Aelin and had a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Heard that? Pretty mouth.”

“You ignored every other word she said, didn’t you?”

“Totally.” They both laughed and Aedion removed his hand from Aelin's before holding out his arm for Aelin to take. She rolled her eyes before sliding her arm under Aedion's. “Ready?”

“Always.” She said, and she really was. Before her parents and uncle were killed, before Terrasen was taken by Ardarlan and before Arobynn found her half-dead, Aelin thought a lot about her wedding. How it would go? Who would walk her down the aisle? But every time she thought about it, she was afraid. Scared of being married for an alliance. Even if she would have done it for her kingdom, she didn't find much pleasure in imagining herself married to someone she didn't love.

But it wasn't marrying Rowan that frightened her. Marrying Rowan was the easiest thing she could imagine. But imagining Rowan as a widower in a few days, a few months at best, made her sick. But she had to do it, even if he was going to hate her.

“I know why you’re doing this,” No, no he didn’t. Not entirely. “But enjoy your night.” He said softly when they left the room. “You’ll get married only once, cousin.”

“Do you approve?” She had to ask. She needed to know if she was doing the right thing.

“Are you asking my opinion? Are you sure you’re alright?” He teased her and she rolled her eyes. She had to pull up her gown to avoid falling down the stairs to the captain's cabin.

“You, Elide, Ren and I are the only children of Terrasen still alive, I need to know what I’m doing is right.”

“I couldn’t think of anyone else fit to be king. I think this is the right choice.” His words eased something in her.

“Good.”

“We’re here.” He said as they stopped in front of a wooden door. “Stressed?”

“No. Not at all. As you said, he is the perfect choice. For both Terrasen and me.”

Rowan was seconds away from punching the captain in the face. He was doing his best to ignore his sighs and comments the captain probably thought were quiet. When the captain starts stamping his feet on the floor Rowan grunted as he looked at him, he paled the moment he heard Rowan.

Lysandra tried to hide her laughter but when Rowan turned his head towards her, she laughed harder. Rowan shook his head and tried to hide his own smile.

He heard the door open and he, Lysandra, and the captain turned around. His breath was taken away when he saw her. She was wearing a green and gold gown. Metallic gold, his favorite. He wasn’t sure to be breathing when his eyes took her in from top to bottom, his eyes passing through her cleavage revealing part of her chest. The gown's corset hugged her curves. She had always been beautiful, it always stuck him stupid when he looked at her and today was no exception. He knew she deserved a better man than him, but he didn't care anymore. She was his and he would never let her go.

Aelin and Aedion walked toward him and when they got close enough, Aedion took his arm off Aelin’s before taking it to give it to Rowan. Aelin smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but grin back.

“You hurt her, you’re dead,” Aedion said and Rowan could see the humor in his eyes. He also knew Aedion could guess what Rowan’s look meant. Try me, pup. “Welcome to the family, brother.” Rowan nodded but the words warmed up his heart. His eyes went back to Aelin.

You look amazing, Fireheart.

You’re not so bad yourself.

“Get that look off your face, your Highness,” Lysandra warned Rowan with a playful tone when his eyes found Aelin’s cleavage. He had to take a deep breath to control his body’s reaction. “Don’t even think about ripping it to shreds.”

“Can’t promise that.” He smirked. Aelin laughed softly, the shifter rolled her eyes and Aedion made a noise of disgust.

“Can we finally start? We sail in thirty minutes.” The captain asked with an exasperated voice and Rowan had to keep himself from ripping out his throat. Having him near Aelin was hard enough, the bastard didn’t bother to hide the way he looked at her.

Aelin seemed to remember something, she turned her head toward Lysandra. “Did you-”

“I made him sign everything.” Lysandra cut her off. Lysandra made good words of the promise she made when she joined him here. I know we’re at war, but tonight is your night. Enjoy it, I’m taking care of everything.

“Ready?” Rowan asked her, even if he already knew her answer.

“Ready.” She smiled at him and looked at the captain. “Go straight to the point.”

“Does anyone have rings?" Rings were a mortal tradition. Fae usually only bit their partner as a claiming but they didn’t buy jewels. It’s only at that moment he realized Aelin had grown up as a mortal, she was used to their ways, not the one of the Faes. He opened his hand, held it out to Aelin, and a second later a simple ring made of ice appeared. It wouldn’t last, but at least it was something. Once again he was reminded of how little he could give her. Every thought went out of his head the moment he saw her smile. A moment later the same ring was in her hand but made of fire this time.

"Good. Repeat after me. I, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.”

“I, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers and couldn’t hear the captain’s voice... It was like he could see all of her soul, and every bit of it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “Take you, Rowan Whitethorn, to be my lawfully wedded husband.” She took his left hand and slid the ring of fire onto his fourth finger. The flame did not burn, it was just hot enough to be a comforting presence. Just like his Fireheart. “To whatever end.” Like that day on the beach, he felt the claiming in his soul. He was still only barely aware of the captain talking beside them.

“I, Rowan Whitethorn.” A tear rolled down Aelin's cheek and a twin tear fell from Rowan's eye. Happy. That’s what they were at that very moment. For the first time, nothing else than them mattered. “Take you, Aelin Fireheart Ashryver Galathynius, to be my lawfully wedded wife.” He slid the ring he made her on her finger. When he was done, she kept his hand in hers, linking their fingers together. “To whatever end.”

They spent what felt like hours looking into each other's eyes. He was barely aware of the tears streaming down her face or her smile. Looking at her that way he could admire everything about her soul. Her darkness and her light. Her flaws and her qualities. Every part of her, no matter how dark, was sublime. And he loved them just as much.

He loved everything about her, even all those things that drove him crazy with anger a few months ago, he loved them anyway. Because she was Aelin. Because they were one soul in two bodies, destined to find each other one day. Their powers had been created to complement each other. They had been created to complement each other.

He could hear nothing but Aelin's racing heartbeat. He didn't care what the captain said, he was going to kiss his wife and no one could stop him. He put his hand on Aelin's cheek before leaning in and putting his lips on hers. She let go of his hand before wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his. His free arm was wrapped around her waist, the satin of the gown caressed his hand. He wanted no space between them. Whether it was their bodies or their souls.

He was only slightly aware of the captain's scream of fear as Aelin's flames and Rowan's ice began to wrap around them. Their magic played together in rhythm with the soft strokes of their tongues against each other.

Being in her arms, soul against soul, was home. Aelin was his home.

The moment their bedroom door slammed shut, Rowan pressed Aelin against the wall. His mouth on hers, Aelin wasted no time before starting to unbutton her husband's shirt. Husband . It changed everything and nothing at the same time.

Unable to focus on Rowan's shirt as he kissed her passionately and his hands roamed over her body, Aelin tore off Rowan's shirt, making him chuckle softly. He always preferred it when Aelin made a mess, anyway. When his hands found her backside, Aelin couldn't help but move her hips forward to rub against Rowan's. She needed him, now.

"Would Lysandra be angry if I ruined this gown?" He murmured against her mouth, his voice low and deep, betraying his desire.

"Very."

"Fun." He said before ripping the gown from the back. He slid the gown material off her shoulders to drop it to the floor as he continued to kiss her. When his hands returned to her waist he grunted. Aelin smirked, glad he'd found Lysandra's latest surprise. He stepped back to look at her fully. She wasn't naked under the dress as he might have thought. She was dressed in the golden nightgown.

She could feel his burning gaze on every inch of her skin. Her breathing was ragged and she bit her lip as her eyes met Rowan's again. She could almost guess what he wanted to do to her. Far too much, considering they only had fifteen minutes to consume their marriage. She could smell his scent loading with arousal and she smiled at the way it affected him. He wanted her so badly that she didn't need to be naked to turn him on.

"Are you going to watch me all night or are you finally going to do something?"

"What do you want me to do, Aelin?" He asked slowly, cocking his head. He was looking at her like she was prey, and she loved it.

"Why don’t you show your queen how much you love her?" She challenged him. His eyes never left hers as a lazy grin came over his face and he fell to his knees facing her. Her breathing quickened. This wasn't what she had in mind, but who was she to complain? The most powerful pure-blooded Fae was kneeling before her. A king was on his knees. He would never have to kneel for anyone ever again but he would for her, for his queen, for his wife.

She could feel his warm breath on her scarred skin. He kissed her thigh and continued to kiss her skin as he moved up to the place she needed him most. Before he reached the edge of her nightgown, he repeated his actions on her other leg.

She was about to catch fire. She had more control over her powers than she did on the beach, but she couldn't contain it anymore. She needed him, right now.

She squirmed beneath his lips and he slid his hands from her legs to her backside to keep her in place. He groaned when he ran his hands under her nightgown and found no underwear.

"Rowan, please," Aelin begged him. She had learned how much he liked hearing her beg for him. He pulled up her nightgown and she felt his hot breath on her most sensitive part. He looked up at her and smiled.

"You look so beautiful, Fireheart," he said before parting her fold. She couldn’t think of any answer as she felt his tongue on her after he took her left leg and put it on his shoulder. She was completely exposed to her and it made him groan.

He didn't waste time before finding her clit and when he did she threw her head back, moaning. He licked and sucked exactly the way she loved. She felt one of his fingers at her entrance and she was a goner. She prayed that Rowan had put a magic shield around their room but it wouldn’t bother her if everyone on this boat heard them. Heard how she planned to claim him.

He snuck one finger in her and then a second one. Her right hand found his hair and pulled them. She started grinding against his face, just needing a little more to reach her climax. Rowan curled his fingers and found the spot that made her scream every single time. "Rowan, please, please, please…" She didn’t even know what she was begging for. He kept working her higher and higher and she never wanted this moment to stop. She came when she felt his free hand slide on her body to reach her breast and play with her nipple, crying out his name. Even if he wanted to windrow he couldn’t with the strength she used to hold his head against her.

He softened his actions but didn’t stop while she climaxed, working her through her orgasm. He took his fingers out of her and gave her clit one last lick before getting back on his feet. She wanted to kiss him, needed it, but his mouth was already busy licking his fingers. He held her gaze and that was probably the most erotic sight Aelin had ever seen.

"You taste so good, Aelin. I could stay on my knees forever for you." When did he become so talkative? She couldn’t complain, it turned her on. Her quiet prince hid his dirty mouth quite well.

Even if she just came she needed more. She needed him. She didn’t waste time before taking a step toward him to kiss him while her hands explored his body. Aelin wished they had more than a few minutes to enjoy their time together. But they didn’t, so her hand quickly found the bulge in Rowan’s pants. He barked a curse and Aelin smirked, proud to cause this reaction.

She could taste herself in his mouth and it made her moan. If she didn’t have him in the next two minutes she would die.

Aelin took off his sword belt, making the weapons fall on the floor. If Fenrys who was in the cabin just under theirs didn’t know what was happening, he surely would now. Aelin broke the kiss and stopped Rowan when he tried to kiss her again.

She used all her strength to push him on the bed, making him fall on his back. He looked at her with a feral grin. Rowan parted his still-clothed legs to let Aelin stand between them.

Very slowly, she slid her hands on her body. His gaze followed her hands on her breast, teasing her nipples. She took off one of the nightgown’s straps, and then the other one. The garment slipped off her body and fell to the floor, revealing her naked body. Rowan's eyes darkened at the sight of his wife. He sat up to touch her, his hands touched her hips while his eyes never left her, drinking in the sight of her body. He kissed her stomach, and before things could fall out of Aelin's control, she stopped him.

She shook her head slowly, pushing Rowan onto his back as she climbed on top of him, her knees on either side of his body. His hands found her backside and he grunted as he pressed her to him.

One of Aelin's hands unbuttoned Rowan's pants and he helped her slide them down his legs. He removed his pants, dropping them to the floor, joining the rest of their clothes. She rolled her hips, looking for friction.

"What are you waiting for, your majesty?" He whispered between kisses.

"Bastard." She replied but before she could take him in her hand, he flipped them over, causing her to fall onto her back. His body covered hers and she could feel his hard length so close to where she needed him.

"Now, is that a good way to talk to your husband, Aelin?" He teased and slid his hand up her body until it ended on her neck. Rowan's eyes didn't leave Aelin's, checking to make sure everything was okay as is hand, that until now had been just a faint presence on her neck, began to squeeze a little tighter at her sides, Aelin groaned and closed her legs, trying to find some friction.

His other hand found one of her nipples and drew circles around it, then went down her body to spread her legs and find her parted folds. One of his fingers found her bundle of nerves and drew little circles, just the way she liked it. She threw her head back and moaned his name as he tightened his grip on her neck a little more.

"What is it you want, Aelin?" He asked as he stooped to kiss her breast. He couldn't answer, too focused on every spot he touched on her body. "What is it that you want, Aelin?" He repeated as he lifted his head to look into her eyes. He slid a finger inside her, making her cry out his name.

"Please, Rowan."

"Tell me what you want and you shall have it, my Queen."

She took his head in her hands, forcing their lips to almost touch. "Fuck me, please, take me now I need you."

“Fuck." He kissed her and she opened her mouth, letting his tongue in. Rowan's hand that was pleasuring Aelin between her legs left that spot to pin her hands above her head. She wrapped her legs around Rowan's hips and he swore.

They didn't have much time left so the hand he had around her neck slid down and found his cock. He teased her entrance, she bucked her hips, tried to make him do something , but with his weight on her, she couldn’t do anything.

“You’re such a desperate little thing, aren’t you?” He murmured in her ear and she felt her core clenched at his words. She didn’t know what was happening with him but she loved it. She loved being the only one to know this side of him.

"If you don't do anything I promise you that-" She was cut off by a groan when he suddenly entered her. He was so big and she needed a few moments to adjust.

"Anything you want, Ms. Whitethorn Galathynius." He said into her ear before he began to push into her.

He nibbled on her ear and she threw her head back as his free hand found her neck and again he applied pressure to the sides.

His thrust quickened and she tried to free her hands, needing to touch him but he wouldn't let her. She knew why, if he couldn't give her more than he was already giving her for this war, he would do anything for her in their room.

“Let me touch you, please,” she begged him when she closed her eyes, focusing on the pleasure. He let her hands go and they automatically found his back, trying to bring him even closer to her.

She scratched his back and he growled. One of her hands went up to his head to make him kiss her. The kiss was messy but she loved it. "Harder," she moaned and he complied. The only sounds in the room were their moans and the sounds of skin against skin.

Rowan's free hand slipped between their bodies and found her clit, making her cry out. He dropped his head into the crook of her neck and Aelin knew his body well enough to know that he was close.

She felt herself falling off the edge, she just needed a little more to find her climax. She would like to say a lot of things, but the only word she felt like she knew at that moment was his name.

"Come for me, Fireheart." He ordered her with as much authority in his voice as possible. "Come for me." His movements on her clit quickened and she didn't know if she was screaming or crying, probably both, she wasn't aware of anything other than where they were joined. She bit her bottom lip, trying to stay quiet. “Let me hear you, Aelin.” And she did.

He removed his hand from her neck, stopping to play with her breath and before she could beg him to do it again he sank his teeth into her neck. The pain immediately turned to pleasure and that was just what she needed. She reached her orgasm and was only vaguely aware that she was screaming his name. She tightened her legs around Rowan's hips, making it difficult to move. But he continued to prolong her orgasm while searching for his own.

His thrusts were messy and sloppy, and when she bit him on his shoulder a few seconds later he finished inside her, grunting her name on the sensitive skin of her neck after he bit her.

They were trying to catch their breath when Rowan fell onto the bed right next to her. How could it get any better every single time? She could never have enough, she would always need more. More Rowan. More intimacy between the two of them. She turned on her side and tried to hug him but before she could touch him he stood up and Aelin frowned. He usually stayed more in bed with her, but she didn't mind admiring his backside.

He took the bucket of seawater they had in their room and took some in his hand. She understood what he wanted to do and she smiled. "Rowan." She stopped him as she got up from the bed. He looked back at her and had a satisfied smile on his face at the sight of his wife walking naked towards him. "Let me."

He nodded and she took the water and placed it on his shoulder. He squeaked slightly and Aelin laughed. Instead of saying something, he took the water too and placed it on her neck. She squeaked too and it was Rowan's turn to laugh. Their marks were now forever etched in their skin. A claim. He was hers and she was his. She wanted the world to know it. She wanted the world to know Rowan was the reason she was happy. She also wanted him to have something other than memories when she would leave. So he could never forget her.

"I love you, Aelin. To whatever end." He put his forehead against her and she threw her arms around him, wanting him as close to her as possible.

"I love you, Rowan. To whatever end."

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin smut #rowan x aelin #aelin galythinius

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