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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years

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Raise the Barre (Ch. 1)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributor: @baebae-goodnight (WHO MADE THIS PERFECTLY GORGEOUS MOODBOARD)

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Word Count: 7,003

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

Thumbs hooked beneath the straps of your backpack, you paused on the sidewalk to tilt your head up. A sign reading Russet Ballet Academy hung from the building above, detailing the location of the next four years of your life.

It was the dream of many to attend and yet, few ever came to walk these halls as its students. Only eighty dancers were accepted to their dance program each year; the fiercest competition from all over the globe.

Somehow, you were amongst them.

The day you’d received your letter still felt like a dream but here you were, standing under the sign and knowing you’d made it. You stared at it a second longer before your mom came up and squeezed your shoulder.

“Wow,” she said, also reading the sign. “Seems like just yesterday you fell on your ass at Hall of Fame, huh?”

“Mom!” You laughed, the moment effectively broken. “Why would you bring that up now? I was twelve!”

She grinned and glanced in your direction. “You just had such enthusiasm! Picked yourself right back up and kept going. I should’ve known then you would make it.”

Despite yourself, you felt your insides soften again. It sounded like something your old dance teacher, Miss Katie, would’ve said. She’d always had faith in your perseverance and ability. You hadn’t started competing until the age of eleven; in dancer years, this was considered late and yet, you grew quickly through the ranks. By the time you reached high school, you were known on the competitive dance circuit as one of the elites.

Your parents joked it was your contrariness that kept you going. Growing up, you’d never much liked hearing the word no – something your parents applauded and bemoaned in equal measure.

Hiking your bag higher, you turned to face your parents. “So, are you going to take a photo, or what?”

“A photo! Great idea.” Scanning the sidewalk, your mom found your dad. “Honey, come here! Honey! Hone – honestly,” she huffed, waving both arms overhead.

Finally, your dad noticed and hurried in your direction. “Have you seen the gargoyles?” he asked, clearly impressed. “The architecture of this building is incredible, Y/N. When you get settled, maybe you can find out for me who the builder –”

“Take the picture, darling,” said your mom, handing over the camera.

She moved beside you, hugging you tight enough to make breathing difficult. You were happy though, smiling brightly as your dad took the shot.

“Okay, okay,” you said, laughing after the tenth frame. “I think you guys have embarrassed me enough for one day, don’t you?”

“Debatable,” said your dad, grabbing your luggage to haul up the steps. “We’ve got to make up for all the days we won’t see you. You’re not coming home until the holidays, right? That’s a long time!”

At this, a small pang went through you and you nodded. He was right – your parents lived a plane flight away and you’d never been the wealthiest of households. You wouldn’t be able to return until three months from now, which was the longest you’d ever spent away from your family.

It was such a strange thought, you didn’t know what to do with it. As crazy as it was, since they often drove you crazy, you hadn’t ever lived far away from home and the thought made you sad. It was just another way your life was being upended.

As you entered the arched door of Grace Hall, your soon-to-be home, your head spun from the newness. In your small suburban town, you’d had a reputation. The best dancer, the straight-A student, the person with her act together – never mind what you did behind the scenes to make it appear that way. The point was, you were known.

Here, you were just another small fish thrown into the big pond. It wasn’t that you were a bad dancer – far from it – but here, everyone was the best. Everyone at Russet had passed the same bar, which meant the stakes would be higher than ever before. You had never danced under that kind of pressure and scrutiny.

Stomach churning, you once again wondered if you’d made the right choice. You’d been accepted into other Universities; ones without dance programs where you’d have a more secure future. Instead, you chose to pursue dance as a career.

It wasn’t that other majors were without risk or difficulty, but there was a certain physical and mental exhaustion associated with dance which most found to be a deterrent. You once had a teacher who said if you needed to think twice about dancing, you shouldn’t do it. Way too many people never made it to the top; if you weren’t prepared to make sacrifices for what you loved, then this wasn’t the path for you.

At the time, you hadn’t thought twice about your decision, but that was before the events of Senior year.

A week before the final dance competition of the season, your tendonitis grew so bad, you physically winced whenever you landed a jump. Your teachers finally caught on and forced you to see a doctor, who forbade you from dancing in the upcoming competition.

It had been the last one of the year; your final chance to compete and show everyone – well, someone – why you were considered the best. You went to the competition despite your injury, determined to cheer on your teammates, but something hollow settled into your chest as you watched, realizing your time on the stage would someday come to an end.

You realized how tenuous your body was and, by extension, your career. Of course, you’d known this before, but it had been your first time to face this knowledge head-on and it scared you. Tendonitis wasn’t something that went away, although it was a condition you could work through and manage. Still, your body would only get worse and although you knew you wanted to dance, now you had doubts.

As you stepped through the doors of Russet Academy, these doubts reared their ugly heads once again.

Hiking your bag further up on your shoulder, you plastered a smile on your face and pushed these thoughts away. That was last year. You were better now, fully recovered and approved to dance by your doctors. So long as you took care of yourself, there was nothing to fear.

More suitcases waited in the trunk of your dad’s rental car, but your roommate had already texted her arrival, so you headed upstairs. Noelle Carmichael was from California, a Sagittarius, had begun dancing at the age of three and loved caramel popcorn more than anything else in the world. All this information had been thrown at you during your first text conversation, which might have seemed like a lot, but after a summer of talking, you knew it to only be Noelle.

As you lugged your bag from the elevator – the singular service vehicle had been repurposed for move-in – a head poked itself from a room down the hall.

“Y/N?”

When you nodded, your roommate whooped and leapt into view.

“It’s me – Noelle!” she called.

She rushed to help you with your bags, chattering excitedly as you walked down the hall. Noelle’s move-in time had been yesterday, and her parents had already left, but they couldn’t wait to meet you the next time they visited.

You found her enthusiasm contagious and before long, most of your worries had been banished to the sidewalk outside. It felt like you’d known Noelle for much longer than the few months you talked over the summer. This greatly relieved you, since you’d been worried about making friends at Russet Academy.

Dancers weren’t always the friendliest, especially when it came to institutions like this. So much of dance was competition – competition for that ranking, that medal or that place in that dance company. It was hard to make teamwork a priority when so much of success was judged on the individual.

Noelle didn’t seem to think this way though, which helped ease some of your fears. You had both entered the ballet track at the Academy. You weren’t naturally a ballerina, but Russet recommended those who wanted to go into jazz or contemporary start with ballet. Smaller majors existed for tap and hip-hop, but those had never been your forte.

Meeting Noelle was enough for minimal tears to be shed while saying goodbye to your parents later that night. Your dad ended up crying, which of course set you off, but by the time they got in their rental car and turned the corner, you’d managed to mostly pull yourself together.

Noelle remained in the dorm while you said goodbye, lounging on her bed with a book in her lap.

You paused on the threshold of your room when you returned, taking in the strangeness of all your surroundings. Your old comforter on a lofted bed, your laptop perched on a strange desk, your clothes hung in an armoire. It was both strange and familiar; the sight of it brought tears to your eyes.

“Oh, no!” Noelle said, hopping down from her bed. “Don’t cry, Y/N! I only just stopped crying this morning. If you cry, then I’ll cry and people will think something terrible is happening here.”

You laughed when she hugged you, hugging her back in the middle of the room. It was comforting to know someone else felt this way; after a moment, you pulled back to wipe your eyes.

“I’m fine,” you groaned, shaking your head. “Damn. I didn’t expect that.”

“I know.” Noelle smiled. “I was so excited to leave I forgot that deep down, I’m a gigantic baby. Huge mama’s girl.”

Stifling a laugh, you crossed the room to grab a Kleenex.

“If it helps,” Noelle said. “Some girls down the hall are having people over tonight. We could go and meet some of our classmates before orientation starts tomorrow. It should be fun!”

“That does sound fun,” you said, and you meant it.

A few hours later, you found yourself seated on equally horrible carpet in a room down the hall. Several other freshmen were seated beside you, sharing similar parting stories, which lifted your spirits.

“I bawled,” said Irene, clutching her chest. “I’ve had this giant countdown in my calendar all summer. I crossed each day off with a marker and then suddenly, I’m here and I miss my sister. Pathetic.”

Noelle laughed. “I’m just glad I was part of yesterday’s move-in day. It means only half of you heard my gigantic breakdown last night. Mad embarrassing. Pretty sure I told my brother I love him.” She shuddered. “He’s only supposed to get that honor on his birthday!”

The room cracked up, another girl chiming in and you swirled your cup, happily buzzed from the drink in your hand. You hadn’t had alcohol many times before, but it seemed appropriate for a night of new experiences. No one here was drinking to get drunk, since orientation began tomorrow, but some social lubricant tended to help in times like this.

Ballet wouldn’t start until Monday morning, so this was your last chance for a while to indulge. It wasn’t that you couldn’t drink during the semester, but you’d learned the hard way hangovers made for terrible class the next day. You’d only done it once before deciding to ban the idea of alcohol the night before dancing.

The other girls on your floor did their best to put you at ease. Aside from your roommate, there were five other girls who’d congregated in the room.

Ari and Jasmine lived in the room you all sat in. Ari lived within driving distance of the city, had the largest collection of gel pens you’d ever seen and had started dancing later in life (at age ten), which made it all the more impressive that she’d gotten in. Jasmine was from a tiny city in the south and was also a studio dancer; you recognized her the moment she spoke, having run into her as a teacher’s assistant at a dance convention you went to.

Also present were Irene, a ballerina from Chicago and Lia, who was on the hip-hop track. They were also roommates and although you probably wouldn’t have many classes with Lia, orientation tomorrow would be the same. As you got to know them better, the bubble of trepidation in your chest slowly deflated. Everyone here seemed nice – intense, but not as though they were out to get anyone.

As though conjured into being by your very thought, a girl appeared in the door.

She was tall, slim and had her hair pulled back in a French twist. Everything about her screamed ballerina, from her light blue warm-ups to her arched expression. The moment she appeared on the threshold, several people in the room quieted.

Noticing this, you glanced at her with renewed interest. It seemed the girl’s reputation preceded her, but you honestly had no idea who she was. Rather than introduce herself though, the girl merely sighed.

“I thought I heard something,” she said, her tone piqued.

Forcing a smile to her lips, Jasmine rose from the floor. “Hey, Sabrina!” she said, making her tone bright. “We were just getting to know one another. Did you change your mind about coming? We have room if you want to join.”

Despite her forced smile, you detected a glimmer of want beneath Jasmine’s words. Clearly, this Sabrina was considered a big deal. Jasmine’s hopes were immediately crushed the second Sabrina opened her mouth.

“No, thanks,” she said, her gaze sweeping the room. “I need to get to sleep soon. I want to wake up early and get in a quick barre before breakfast.”

Noelle, seated beside you, stared at Sabrina in amazement. “You already have access to rooms?”

Sabrina turned; a faint, amused smile crossed her lips. “Yeah. I went to Russet Prep. I’ve known most of the teachers here for years.”

Hearing this, your stomach sank to the floor. You’d known, of course, there was a feeder school into Russet Ballet Academy. You’d received the same audition letter many years ago, but the cost and distance had been too much for your family to consider.

While you’d understood the fact that you’d be amongst great dancers, you hadn’t thought specifically about Russet Prep ballerinas. Sabrina’s presence instantly dampened your mood, since the way she glanced at you confirmed what you already knew.

She had a leg-up, she knew it and she wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

Leaning back on the futon, you slowly sipped your drink. “Did you just come here to say that?” you asked. “Or did you want something else?”

Multiple heads turned to face you. Irene’s lips twitched and beside you, Noelle let out a laugh. Based on their reactions, you got the feeling that Sabrina wasn’t very well-liked by her peers.

Smile vanishing, Sabrina met your gaze. “That was all,” she said. “Just wanted to ask if you could keep it down. Some of us are trying to take this opportunity seriously.”

With that, she turned and stalked from the room. The door slammed shut behind her and silence lingered – until Noelle snorted and others began to laugh.

“Some of us are trying to take this opportunity seriously,” Noelle mimicked, rolling her eyes. “Give me a break. Like we all didn’t bleed into our pointe shoes to be here.”

The rest nodded in agreement and slowly, the conversation shifted to other topics. Although you joined in, uncertainty lingered in the back of your mind. It seemed some of dance’s cattiness had followed you after all. You weren’t truly surprised by this; after all, you were barely three months older than you’d been in high school. It was too much to expect people to become adults overnight.

Still, at least there was one cause for celebration this evening. The fact that you’d arrived at Russet meant you no longer had to compete against your most fierce rival.

For the next four years, Park Jimin, utter bane of your existence, would be nowhere in sight.

Early the next morning, you stood in line for registration at Danley Hall and awaited your schedule.

“Honestly.” Noelle stood on her toes to peer down the hall. “Why do they insist on handing these things out in person? We could easily get them online and skip all this nonsense.”

“We need to take our ID card photos,” you pointed out. “But yeah, it sucks. You’d think they could’ve at least assigned us time slots.”

“Dancers.” Noelle shook her head. “Great at conceptualizing abstract choreography – not so great at administrative tasks.”

You laughed, facing forward as the line started to move. It stopped shortly thereafter, as did you, rearranging the bag on your shoulder. You recognized several people from last night and waved hello to them all, receiving greetings in turn.

When your phone vibrated in your pocket, you jumped in surprise. Pulling it free, you smiled when you saw the name of your boyfriend.

“Oooo.” Noelle peered over your shoulder. “Who’s that? Boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, swatting her arm as you opened his text. “It’s my boyfriend, Finn.”

“Finn’s a good name.” Noelle moved forward in line. “Strong. Noble. Damn, though – are you two doing long distance? Brave souls.”

“No – thank god. Finn’s at Redfield University. His orientation was last week, so we’re planning to meet up later tonight.”

“Redfield? That’s so close!” Noelle gushed. “Wow, you two are so lucky. And Redfield is a great school, too. I wholeheartedly approve.”

“Well, as long as you do,” you laughed.

“What’s he saying? Wishing you luck with registration?”

“That, and asking where I want to get dinner tonight.”

“Sickeningly cute. I’d be jealous if I weren’t such a great person.”

You snorted, about to respond when someone called your name.

“Y/L/N, Y/N?”

Head jerking up, you saw a man at the office waving you forward. It seemed your time had finally come.

“That’s me!” you said, stepping from line.

The first stop at registration were two, tiny desks set before the main office. Past these, you could see someone finishing up their student photo. A bright flash went off, momentary blinding as you winced and faced forward.

“Here you go!” you said, placing your paperwork down. “Everything should be in order.”

The paperwork man barely nodded, grabbing the folder to rifle through. He seemed content to take his time and you quickly grew bored, glancing around the lobby. Much of your class was waiting in line, looking amusingly enough like a middle school dance. There hadn’t been general orientation yet, so most people had only met those in their (single-sex) dorm last night. Groups of boys and girls awkwardly faced off from across the hall.

While you waited, you began to size people up. It was unintentional, but you knew you’d be paired with someone for ballet and it seemed better to get a head start than not. Most people were unfamiliar to you, and you’d made no meaningful progress when a new voice said your name.

“Y/N?”

Freezing in place, you continued to stare at the hallway before you.

You knew that voice. It was one you could’ve identified in the depths of Tartarus itself – which honestly, was the only place you’d imagined hearing said voice again, since it belonged to Park Jimin. Top hellion of the underworld.

Slowly, you turned and had your worst suspicions confirmed.

Park Jimin stared back at you in the hall.

He wore a jean jacket, white t-shirt and golden sunglasses perched on his head, despite being indoors. Every part of his attire screamed pretentious, but no one around you seemed to notice. Instead, a buzz spread over the crowd as more and more people realized who you were talking to.

Before you could compose yourself, you demanded, “What are you doing here, Park?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. Slowly, he walked forward and closed the distance between you.

“So, you’re not even going to try and be pleasant?” he asked, coming to a stop. Casually, he looked you up and down. “Surprised to see you here. Thought you’d stopped dancing, or something.”

Subconsciously, your hands balled into fists. Jimin had a way of getting under your skin that no one else did – even though admittedly, you could’ve just said hello. You didn’t have to act like he was the anti-Christ, even if he was.

“I didn’t stop dancing,” you said to him through gritted teeth. “You know that perfectly well.”

Jimin shrugged. “How was I supposed to know that? The last time I saw you, you were limping around like you were on your last legs. I just assumed.”

“I… was not limping,” you said with as much dignity as you could muster.

“Weren’t you on crutches?”

“My doctor made me use those!”

“Aha!” Jimin grinned, triumphant. “So, you were injured.”

“I had tendonitis,” you shot back. “Hardly fatal, Park. I’m fine now.”

“Right.” Jimin glanced at your feet. “Hope it doesn’t come back.”

From anyone else, you might’ve taken the words at face value, but this was Jimin. He’d never wished for your success before, so it would be foolish to imagine otherwise now.

Gaze hardening, you took another step forward until you stood nose-to-nose. Well, nose to chin was more like it. Jimin had grown since you first began competing against one another. You remembered a time when you both were the same height. This had once been a source of great amusement for you, choosing to stand directly before him at awards ceremonies.

You opened your mouth to tell him off when the paperwork man said your name again.

“That’s me!” you blurted, spinning around.

Jimin would have to wait, you decided as you strode forward. The paperwork man looked at you in alarm, clearly not used to having such enthusiastic participants.

“Uh, I know,” he said slowly. “You confirmed your name earlier. The photographer is ready,” he added, nodding towards the room Jimin had vacated.

Cheeks burning, you accepted your paperwork and nodded. Although you purposefully didn’t look at Jimin as you left, you could feel him smirking at you from behind.

Refusing to give him the time of day, you brushed past – or you would’ve, but the space was too small for dramatics. You nearly elbowed him in the spleen as you went, forced to squeeze against the wall in an undignified fashion.

Still, you didn’t look back as you entered the ID office. Some of your anger became transparent in your photo-taking, though – this much was obvious when you were handed your ID. Staring at this in horror, you remained frozen in the hall when Noelle finished and joined you.

“Oh, shit,” she said, glancing at your ID. “I feel a lot better about my photo now.”

“Hey!” you said, hand curling around the photo.

Despite this, you laughed, since she was right. On a scale of model to mug shot, your ID was definitely on the latter end.

As you walked away, you shook your head and shoved the ID in your bag. In the corner of one eye, you could see Jimin lingering while he talked with other students. You recognized no one in his group, except for a guy you thought you’d seen on YouTube. Hope on the Street, or something. Probably on the hip-hop track.

“Seriously, though.” Noelle looked at you sympathetically. “What happened? Photographer tell you he was going to murder your family?”

“Ugh, no,” you groaned. “Just got in my own head.”

“Uh-huh. And the fact that you were talking to Park Jimin right before had nothing to do with it?”

Blinking, you glanced at her in surprise. “You saw that?”

“Kind of.” Noelle looked a bit guilty. “I mean, it’s hard not to notice Park Jimin wandering the halls.”

You couldn’t help but scowl at this.

It was unprofessional, but your feud with Jimin went back so far, it was hard for you to be completely impartial. Your rivalry had begun when you’d both been picked to demonstrate the combination at NUVO dance convention and Jimin had tripped you while in the front row. He’d apologized afterwards, claiming ignorance, but you’d seen enough of his dancing by then to know Jimin didn’t make mistakes.

He’d tripped you on purpose.

Jimin was known on the competitive dance circuit, like you, but he had an almost cult-like following on YouTube and TikTok. Rumor had it, he’d been asked to join Ariana Grande on tour the previous summer, which was why you’d thought for sure you were rid of him. It seemed this was no longer the case.

“Yeah,” you grumbled as you neared Jimin in the hall. “He’s here, alright.”

Noelle hid a smile. “You don’t like him.”

“He’s an ass.”

“Yeah, he does,” said Noelle, gazing wistfully at his butt as you passed.

“Noelle!” you snorted. “That’s not what I said.”

“Huh?” Blinking innocently, she returned to you. “Oh, you said – oh. Sorry. Though you said something different.”

The smile she gave was incorrigible though and, despite your best interests, you laughed.

“I mean, he does have a nice butt,” Noelle argued. “Come on, Y/N. You have to admit that,” she continued once you were out of earshot.

“Hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar.”

“I mean, he’s a dancer!” you sputtered. “We all have nice butts.”

“Valid counter-argument,” Noelle said as you walked outside. “But seriously, he’s not a good guy?”

Paused on the sidewalk, you turned to glance at the building. Danley Hall rose above you; the location of class every day for the foreseeable future. Some of that now felt tainted by the prospect of seeing Jimin every day, as well.

With a sigh, you met Noelle’s gaze. “No,” you said at last. “We were rivals all throughout high school and believe me, there aren’t enough terrible superlatives to describe Park Jimin. He’s the most annoying, most childish, least humble–”

“–biggest suck-up, least trustworthy, mind-numbing idiot,” you finished, stabbing your salad with a fork.

Finn laughed at you from across the table. By this point, your feud with Jimin was old news to him. Shaking his head, curly brown hair flopped into his gaze.

“Damn, Y/N,” he said sympathetically. “That sucks. Can’t believe that jerk had the audacity to follow you to Russet. Sounds to me like he can’t get enough of you.”

Ignoring this, you rolled your eyes. “Believe me, it’s not that. Park Jimin doesn’t care about anyone but himself. It’s just Russet, you know? The most prestigious dance academy in the country. I just don’t understand how I didn’t know this,” you sighed, still troubled by the thought. “How come I didn’t know he’d be in the freshman class?”

“I don’t know.” Finn shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t have a Facebook?”

Most of the freshman class had connected on Facebook, at least before someone made a What’s App chat for the group. Finn was probably right about Jimin not giving out his social media.

“That’s probably true,” you grumbled. “But still.”

Finn laughed at your expression. Reaching across the table, he squeezed your hand in his. “Hey,” he said gently. “You beat him for what – four years? So, this is just another four years of putting him in his place. You’ll be fine.”

He was right, although in all honesty, Jimin had won about fifty percent of the time against you. It was one of the reasons you’d pushed yourself so hard in high school.

“You’re right,” you said, somewhat mollified.

“Of course, I am,” Finn said, letting go of your hand. “You’re talking to a man who put his loft bed together alone. By hand.”

You looked at him in alarm. “Did you at least use the manual?”

“Please, Y/N. Men don’t use manuals. We don’t believe in them, much as we don’t believe in cleaning, cooking, or coming in second.”

“Gross,” you groaned, throwing a cherry tomato at him. “Worst ad ever for the male sex. Besides, it’s not true – I beat Jimin in dance plenty of times.”

“Oh, come on,” Finn laughed. “He doesn’t count.”

Something about the way he said this made you sit a bit straighter. Finn resumed cutting into his steak, but you continued to stare at him across the table.

“What do you mean by that?”

Finn looked up in surprise. “Well, you know. It’s not like he’s super manly.”

You stared at him, bewildered.

“I mean, he wears tights, Y/N.”

At this, your eyes narrowed. It wasn’t like you were Jimin’s biggest fan – you despised him, actually – but Finn’s argument was just stupid, even if he meant it as a joke.

“And?” You tilted your head. “He also bench-presses women above his head for fun. Are you being serious? Just because he –”

“Whoa, wait – I was kidding,” Finn said, looking stricken. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just meant it as a joke, you know, since you hate the guy. Truce?”

You hesitated, still miffed, but ultimately deciding it wasn’t worth it. Finn truly looked sorry and this was Jimin, after all. Not that this made it better, but sometimes you grew tired of lecturing your boyfriend. Sometimes, it was just easier to let things go.

“I – yeah,” you said after a long pause. “Fine. Truce.”

“Come on.” Finn smiled and reached for your hand again. “You’re not really mad, are you?” He looked hopefully at you from beneath his curls. “Jimin’s the worst. What’s got you this upset?”

Sexism and toxic masculinity, you wanted to say, but he was right. This was Jimin and you hated that guy. It felt kind of weird to want to defend him to your boyfriend.

Still, though. Finn’s comment was annoying; it was one thing for you to insult Jimin. You did it based on Jimin’s merit, his talent, and the way he kept beating you. You’d never once insulted Jimin because of his gender. In the oddest of ways, it felt like your boyfriend had insulted you when he put down male dancers.

“I’m just annoyed by the whole situation,” you said at last, settling on a half-truth. “I hate the fact that Jimin won our bet.”

Finn nodded in sympathy, settling back in his seat to eat the rest of his meal.

You stared at your salad, no longer as hungry as you had been before. Remembering the bet had thoroughly ruined your appetite.

The bet had been made Senior year, a consequence of years of competition with no real declared winner. Jimin had been the one who suggested it, albeit after you goaded him into it.

It had been your first competition of the season and you’d taken home the top trophy – First Overall in the Senior solo category. Jimin had come in second and when you met backstage, both holding your awards, you’d come to a stop to size one another up.

“Nice trophy,” Jimin said, his tone dripping with derision.

“Right?” Turning it over, you examined it. “Not sure where I’ll put it, though. My shelves at home are pretty full.”

“I think you’ll be fine,” Jimin said. “Competition is pretty stiff this season. I doubt you’ll win again.”

“Are you referring to yourself as my competition, Park?”

“Who else?”

“I wouldn’t worry about me,” you said, stepping closer. “After all, I beat you today. I can do it again.”

“Really?” He smirked. “What competitions are you going to this season?”

You told him, listing them off one by one without looking away.

Jimin listened and nodded. “I’ll be at four of those. How about a bet, then? Whoever wins First Overall at three of the five competitions declares themselves the winner.”

“Hm. What’s the catch?”

“No catch.”

You paused, considering the implications of such a bet. “I don’t get it, though. What does the winner win?”

“Uh, our rivalry? Bragging rights for eternity? Pride? Take your pick, Y/N.”

“Pride,” you said with a snort. “Like you have any of that.”

“I don’t. Let me win it.”

You had to clamp your lips together to keep from laughing; it would’ve ruined your image to laugh at your declared enemy’s joke.

“Alright, fine,” you said with a shake of your head. “But here’s what I want in return – are you listening, Park?”

“Trying to.”

“At the end of this season – when I win – I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me I’m the better dancer.”

Jimin’s smile widened. “And what if I win?”

“Impossible. But if you do,” you allowed. “I’ll tell you you’re the better dancer. Deal?”

“Deal.”

And that had been that.

Shaking your head, you returned yourself to the present and took another bite of your salad.

“We were tied,” you said, the same anger returning. “Jimin had won twice and I had won twice. It wasn’t fair that he just got to win because I forfeited the last competition. I was injured!”

Finn nodded in agreement, just as he had every other time you’d told him this story.

Feeling a little bit guilty, you pushed your tirade aside and tried to focus on dinner. A bet from Senior year wasn’t really important in the long run. All that mattered was that you and Jimin had ended up at the same place.

Still – you couldn’t help but worry he’d pop up one day to make good on the promise. You still hadn’t told him he was the better dancer; it’d be even more humiliating to do so now, surrounded by all your classmates from Russet.

“Anyways,” you said with a sigh. “Enough about him. How was your day?”

Finn began a story about the supposed shower-caddy thief on his floor and you settled back, nodding and laughing at all the right times. Listening to Finn talk was comforting. He reminded you of home, of family dinners and long drives and date nights at the movie theatre.

Being in his presence felt like second semester Senior year – that invincible feeling of knowing where you were headed and feeling unstoppable. Having him in the city made the transition to Russet slightly less terrifying. He was your single known in a future of unknowns.

Well, except for Jimin. Jimin was also known, but in the opposite way. The thought of him was anything but calming; he made your jaw clench, blood pound and heart start to race.

Even in looks, Jimin was the complete opposite of Finn. Where Finn had floppy, brown curls, Jimin’s blonde hair was usually swept back from his face. Finn was a light-hearted guy, always talking with his hands and laughing at nothing, whereas Jimin was nothing but intense. Every time you saw him at competitions, he was either practicing or sleeping. There was no in-between.

Finn took things one day at a time, which was something you envied. You always felt you were hurtling towards something, the days passing by too quickly to do everything that you wanted. It was part of what made you a good couple, you decided. Finn took things slowly and you sped him up.

Aside from his major, Finn’s future was wide open. He had no real direction other than to learn and have fun, which you also envied. As much as you wanted to have fun at Russet, you knew there wasn’t much time on your chosen career path. Each second counted and you couldn’t afford to waste one.

Starting that night.

Finn walked with you back to campus, dropping you off at Grace Hall with a lingering kiss. It became more heated than you anticipated, each of you panting when you broke things off to head inside. It had been a week since he’d come to Redfield, which was the longest you’d been apart since you lost your virginity to Finn at the start of the summer.

The sex had been good as of late, but Noelle was inside and you had no desire to hook up with your boyfriend in the bushes outside your dorm.

Once you’d returned, you collapsed on your futon and groaned when you read the schedule for tomorrow.

Noelle laughed from her bed. “Copson’s ballet class?”

“Copson’s ballet class,” you agreed with a sigh.

Vlad Copson was known, even to the incoming freshmen. He was a brilliant dancer and choreographer, but utterly terrifying as a teacher. Rumor had it every freshman was assigned to him their first year just to lower the class number from eighty to seventy.

You didn’t believe this, of course, but that didn’t keep your insides from churning. As you tried to fall sleep later that night, you realized with certainty that this was a beginning. Everything you’d done before now, everything you’d once achieved no longer mattered.

Everyone at Russet was on the same foot and all that mattered was what lay before you. Not at all cheered by this thought, you pulled up your covers and eventually fell asleep.

Vlad Copson turned out to be exactly what you had pictured; an immaculate man with a stern demeanor, wearing the exact same dress code he expected of his students.

He stood before the class the next morning, next to the stereo with both hands clasped before him.

“Welcome,” he said, looking over his students. “I’m Vlad Copson, but you may call me Mr. Vlad for the duration of class. This is Ballet, Level 1.”

Approximately twenty faces stared back, caught in a mixture of certain awe and terror. You knew yourself to be among them, standing at the back of the room with Irene and Noelle. You’d been relieved to find them both in your classes, since there were two other schedules they could’ve been sorted into.

Unfortunately for you though, prep school Sabrina and hellion Jimin were also part of your schedule. They stood at the front on the opposite side and you did your best not to look at them, knowing no good would come from it.

Everyone in class was dressed exactly the same. The women wore leotards, buns, ballet belts, tights and pointe shoes. By this stage in your career, you were expected to do the entirety of ballet class on pointe. There had been much rosin-ing and banging of shoes before the class had started.

“Thank you to those who were on time,” Mr. Vlad said, casting a pointed glance at a boy near the front. Said boy had entered the room a few seconds after 8:00 AM. “For today, I’ll be lenient and let everyone stay. From now on though, class will start promptly on the hour. Those who aren’t ready will be asked to leave and come back when they can respect my time. Understood?”

A ripple of voices chorused yes.

“Good.” Mr. Vlad arched a brow. “You may have heard I’m a tough teacher. This is true. I am hard on my students, since you’re expected to be the best. Do you know how many applications Russet received this year alone? Nearly two thousand, and these were only from those who felt qualified to apply. Russet is a once in a lifetime opportunity, so I expect everyone who enters my classroom to act like it.”

Listening to him speak sent a bead of sweat down your neck. Although he didn’t say it specifically, you knew what Mr. Vlad meant. There were two thousand qualified individuals waiting to take your place if you failed. And that didn’t even include other students at the Academy, or even other dancers who waited out in the real world.

“For those who make it to the end, this will be a life-changing event.” Mr. Vlad paused. “There are teachers here who are far better than I – and I’m considered to be one of the best in the world. You’ll be pushed to your limits, but you’ll also grow at a tremendous pace. We gave you a spot because we believe in each of you. Prove us wrong, though,” he warned. “And that will be that.”

A lingering silence fell and in that quiet, you and Noelle glanced at each other. Again, you were glad for a friendly face. The entire speech would’ve been unbearable without one.

The boy who’d been late was as red as a tomato, clearly embarrassed at having been singled out. You would’ve felt bad, except you knew it wouldn’t be the last time Mr. Vlad put someone on the spot. The attention could easily swing to you before the end of class.

“That’s enough chit-chat, I think.” Mr. Vlad turned towards the stereo. “We’ll start at the barre.”

No one moved and once he’d reached the music, he arched a brow. “Why is everyone still standing in the center, gawking? Barre!”

Had you been watching from outside, it might’ve seemed comical how quickly everyone scattered. You and Noelle chose a barre near the front, setting water bottles down and moving to stand at the center.

Placing yourself in first position, you turned your head and surveyed yourself in the mirror.

“Eyes on me, not the mirror!” Mr. Vlad called, forcing your gaze his way. “Before we get started, I’ll assign your ballet partners for the semester. You won’t do anything with them until across the floor, but I hate to disrupt our flow later on. When I call your name, raise your hand.”

Your heart sank as you turned to face forward.

This was something you’d known was coming. Ballet partnering was part of the set first year curriculum, but you’d been under the severe misimpression you’d be allowed to choose your own partner. Information on the process had been limited and you’d heard conflicting accounts from upperclassman before your arrival. Apparently, the teachers did something different each year.

“Ahn, Irene!”

Irene raised her hand, waiting awkwardly to hear her partner’s name.

“Olson, Brian! You two are partners.”

The red-faced late boy looked at Irene in alarm, then nodded. Irene nodded as well, lowering her hand and Noelle winced.

“Sucks,” she muttered beneath her breath. “Already paired with trouble.”

Privately, you agreed. It’d be unfortunate to be partnered with someone who’d already been singled out. You could only hope your assigned partner would be better than that.

Mr. Vlad turned. “Y/L/N, Y/N!”

Your hand immediately lifted, waiting for what seemed like forever, until –

“Park, Jimin!”

Author’s Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JIMIN! Thank you for reading 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre will be posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTER LIST

#btsbookclub #smutcentralnet #bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts series #jimin series #jimin writing #bts writing #bts e2l #jimin e2l

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fandomvariousness · 3 years

Text

pairing: armin x reader

warnings: implied violence, mild angst, smut: riding, creampie, mommy kink if you squint?

summary: armin's upset after eren's antics, so he finds solace in you

word count: 1.4k

a/n: can i just dedicate this to @junisfics cause she's the reason i came back to this blog and she's the sweetest person EVER <3 and i know this gurl is a f i r m believer in armin supremacy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) hope you like it juni!!

“Armin, Armin!” you breathed out as you stormed into his room, worried sick.

It was late evening already, but they didn’t let him go with all the interrogations and speculations – each hour felt like a day, forced to count every minute until you could finally see him.

Your heart broke when you saw him leaning against the window-sill, gazing into the gloom of the evening, his back facing you.

You exhaled curtly as some weight was pressing down on your chest and basically flew towards Armin, snaking your arms around his waist.

He said nothing, but placed his palm on yours, non-verbally appreciating support.

“Are you hurt?” you inquired, shifting his body ever so slightly so you could take a proper look at him.

“No.” he whispered.

He wasn’t hurt physically, but you could see he was absolutely crushed emotionally.

A sudden rush of odium surged through your veins remembering that Armin and Mikasa almost got caught in that explosion because of the Jaegerists.

“I can’t believe Eren got off the rails like this.” you muttered, taking Armin’s palms in yours.

He shook his head curtly as he exhaled, darting his lost eyes around. “I—I don’t know what to think, truly.”

“I know, baby,” you hugged him again, snuggling your face in his chest.

He released a deep breath, shivers running through his body, indicating his worry.

“Baby, you have to—” you stopped when you saw so lost a look in his eyes, it seemed like he didn’t even know what he was doing this very instant.

His eyes settled on yours, begging for something, his hand resting on the back of your neck as he rested his forehead against yours. “Could you—Could you just—”

His breathing was kind of erratic as he struggled to end his sentence, getting more upset by the second, making you shush him gently with your palms cupping his cheeks.

“C’mere,” you muttered as you gently pressed your lips against his, desperately wanting to drain all his worries and fears away and leave comfort only.

The pecks were reassuring, chaste, yet Armin was more and more reluctant to let go with each kiss. He surprised you by gently catching your lower lip between his teeth, the action going straight to your lower region.

He was never this needy; well, even if he was, he never showed it. Your heart panged at the realization that he’s an absolute messright now, and you want nothing more than to make him feel better.

And so you will.

You ran your palms upwards his toned chest, feeling every crevice and line, until you snaked your hands around his neck and brought your body flush against his; you could almost feel his erratic heartbeat.

Armin gasped into your mouth feeling the friction against his rapidly growing tent, his hands greedily squeezing your buttocks, wanting to lessen the already non-existent gap between the two of you.

You couldn’t control the tiny yelp that escaped your mouth once Armin’s wet tongue plunged into your mouth, awakening the lewd, warm feeling in your lower stomach, making you all too aware of his hardness against your thigh.

“Bed,” you murmured in between sloppy kisses as you pushed him backwards.

He stripped you of your hoodie along the way, leaving you in a black camisole just before you pushed him on the bed: his back connected with the mattress in a dull thump, flaxen hair spreading around his head, forming a halo.

You admired his unbearably cute, blushing face as you straddled him, slowly grinding your clothed core against his erection. The way his arms stroked your thighs, the way his pink lips were rendered ajar by the escaping huffs made the knot inside of you tighten almost to the point of snapping.

“My angel,” you cooed lovingly as your palm stroked his cheek, feeling its emanating heat.

Your lips connected once again in a deep kiss, moans intertwining with each other. Armin’s hands stroked your behind and hips, pushing you against his dick more and more until you couldn’t handle the warm slick that was pooling in your panties.

“Fuck,” you cried, hurriedly removing Armin’s top, as well as your own, followed by your bra – everything flew to the ground. While you were doing this, Armin took care to loosen the strings of your pants and his own, the pieces of clothing joining the growing pile immediately after.

Armin’s dick was so hard you mentally scolded yourself for making him wait so long when he was clearly, so to say, in need. Not wasting any more time, you took his hardness into your hands to position your entrance over his tip, making him hiss in pleasure.

Armin was speechless as you slid down his length – he was almost choking with desire as he gripped just above your hips, trying to refrain himself from pushing you down too hard.

“A—Ah,” you gasped as you leaned your palms for support on his heaving chest.

Armin’s head fell back to his pillow as you bottomed him out, both of your eyes fluttering close at the sensation. He hummed lowly, taking in the warmth of your insides, as his palms ran up and down your naked thighs.

You started to heave your hips up and down his throbbing length, establishing your pace, letting both of you feel each other’s surfaces.

Armin watched your bouncing breasts and pleasure-ridden expressions and felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes at how much he wanted to ravage your senses out, desperately needing to erase the recent events from his head.

Suddenly, he sat up straight, your arms automatically clasping on his shoulders for support as his hand snaked around your lower back and turned both of you over in one motion – your back hit the mattress as your hands unhooked themselves from him and dropped limply to the sides, bent in so innocent a manner. You were sure taken by surprise, for Armin very rarely pulled stunts like this in bed – he was afraid of hurting you and would thus settle with vanilla options more often. The mere thought of Armin acting up made your pussy clench around him, sending him further to his newfound frenzy.

“So good, so good,” Armin was muttering incoherently as he kneeled on his shins, holding you slightly upwards by your hips and mercilessly pounding into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin shamelessly filling the room to the brim.

Your brain was short-circuiting as you struggled to form a coherent thought. “Fuck, oh God, Armin, a—ah,”

Your legs were dangling in the air with each thrust as you bit on the back of your index finger, trying not to scream at the top of your lungs, settling with lewd, broken moans instead.

“Fuck, Armin, I’m gonna—I’m—” you didn’t manage to finish your sentence as Armin finally fucked your lights out, your heart skipping a beat as you struggled to breathe in.

“Ah, fuck,” Armin groaned as your pussy orgasmed around his dick, your face contorted with deep bliss.

He dropped his right palm beside your chest for support as the other dug into your buttocks, his cum spilling deep inside of you, sending a complementary shiver throughout your overstimulated body.

You were still rolling out on your high as you felt Armin’s body drop beside yours, his hand snaking around your waist and bringing you closer like a plush toy. You quickly wiped a stray tear of pleasure so that you wouldn’t alarm Armin even further.

“What was that??” you croaked, panting heavily.

“Huh?” he hummed, eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, head nuzzled in the crook of your neck.

“You fucked my brains out.” you didn’t even try to sugarcoat it.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he chuckled against your skin, still struggling to weave a proper sentence.

“Shut up, that was incredible.” you ran your fingers through his messy tuft of hair. “You feeling better?”

He nodded, Eren and his questionable actions long gone from his head. “Oh yeah, much better. Thank you.”

He pecked your cheek sweetly, as if he didn’t make you forget your own name just moments ago.

other armin fics -> x

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ilcaeryx · 3 years

Text

Cultist [Sukuna/Reader] - NSFW

Summary: You have one god on this earth.

Tags: Sukuna/Reader, NSFW, Smut, Humor, Size kink, Cock Warming, Body Worship,

Words: Cirka 2k

Author’s Note: What’s up, sluts? I’m back. This is NSFW, so beware.

---

Sukuna did regularly mention that domination and conquest were his pastime hobbies and you would tentatively add that he adhered to them with slave-like zealotry. Whenever he insulted Itadori Yuji by calling him simple-minded, your heart ached with the desire to tell him that he was not any greater regarding his obsessions with strength. However, your self-preservation kept you alive, since a bitch that talks back to Sukuna is a bitch that gets their head separated from their body, after all.

Having sex with Sukuna is somehow leagues safer than speaking to him, you thought, gaze surveying how the apex of his back muscles cast shades upon the trenches of his spine. Inhalation, the shadows grew and deepened. Exhalation, the light re-conquered its territory. You suspected he never slept, even though he physically seemed in deep slumber. His arms were splayed on his pillow, face turned away from you.

You had self-preservation to save your ass 99 percent of the time – this time was probably that one percent where he would snap.

“Sukuna,” you called out, very lightly stroking his biceps with your nails. No answer, but his arm muscles flexed subtly as he moved his arm. “I want my side of the bed back. I can’t sleep on this side.”

You let out a shriek when his hand shot out at you, palm plastered over your lips. The sharp edge of his index nail hovered uncomfortably close to your eye, the thumb nail piercing your cheek. Out of reflex, your dug your fingertips into his upper arm and attempted to pull away from his show of force.

Sukuna turned his head to face you. His eyes glared with disinterest, though his grasp weakened slightly.

“You’ve been plenty loud during the night; why must you continue now?” he asked, squeezing your cheeks together to allow you to speak.

“I’ve slept like three hours max,” you said, ignoring his question.

“That is not my problem.” He let go of your face to return to his original position. “Go find somewhere else to sleep and I shall wake you whenever I have need of you.”

What an absolute dickhead. This was your bed, not his domination playground.

You released him and patted your face with your fingers carefully. There were no stinging scratches left behind, which was good considering his reasoning that if ‘you weren’t bleeding out, you didn’t need help’ would leave you with annoying scabs everywhere. Why you were even fucking this guy was beyond you, honestly. This was one of the top 3 worst life choices you had ever made.

You slid towards him beneath the covers and supported your upper body with your ribcage on his lower back and elbows on his upper back. His body heat intermingling with yours gave you a dull ache, from behind your breastbone flowing into a tidepool in the pit of your stomach. After pushing your hair to one side of your neck, you lowered yourself onto him. Your lips wet and breath hot across his skin, you blew softly before planting a kiss below his shoulder blade. Had it been another person under you, you would have had the gratification of seeing goosebumps forming across the area.

“Sukuna…” you said, barely audible between his skin and your lips.

The King of Curses arose from his relaxed position. “Did you not listen or are you an idiot?”

“Bit of both, to be perfectly honest.” You pinched a tuft of his hair strands between two fingers, pulling gently. “You don’t need to do anything – I just want your attention.”

He issued you a warning glare, daring you to pull some weird shit on him.

You shrugged one of your shoulders and gave him a lopsided smile. “It’s not like I can hurt you, right? I don’t have sharp claws.” To testify, you released his hair, buried your nails below his neck and dragged them down his back in one stroke. Four faint lines were left behind, a stylistic contrast to his dark markings. “I don’t have superhuman strength or speed.” You felt the muscular ridges above his ribs, your fingers travelling up and down each rib. “At my worst, I’m just very obnoxious.”

“How self-aware,” he mocked and laughed half-heartedly. He seemed to enjoy your tiny monologue, judging by the slight raise of his eyebrows. “Continue.”

His approval increased your confidence. While you scoured your brain for whatever concept that might amuse or interest him, you broke eye contact and directed your thumb to pad the black line running along his back. You followed it up to the crest of his shoulders and pulled yourself up over his torso. A low growl hummed beneath you, indicating that perhaps you were pushing your luck. When you brought your left hand down his chest the sound reverberated through your being, reminding you that you were not the apex predator in here. His eagerness showed as he willingly moved his hand into your range when you struggled to reach it.

“Look,” you said, just as eager to sate his curiosity, “at the difference.”

With his attention on your hand enveloping his, you settled your head on his shoulder, finally eye to eye with the King of Curses. You shifted so that your palms met. Even when ignoring his nails, his long fingers and thick wrist eclipsed yours. Finger pads with rough callouses created in combat, the evidence of a reign of lasting a millennium. You could feel the wisdom beneath your soft pads; you could’ve devoted your entire life to warfare and your hands would still not understand it the way his do.

“You know, I never used to consider myself a small person,” you lied, your voice perfectly stable, “but now I am not so sure anymore. It is quite overwhelming.”

Sukuna’s head tilted towards yours, almost tenderly grazing his cheek against your jawline. The movement gave you shivers, causing your toes to curl. You had no option but trusting his self-control when he dove below your jaw and put his lips to your neck. He sucked the flesh between his lips, occasionally tasting with his tongue.

You sighed, content for the brief attention you had earned. Sukuna’s heartbeat rate did not increase nor decrease beneath your hand, his chest just as firm. He detached from your neck, his saliva cooling down that particular spot. You were on the brink of complaining when the world swirled around and your back hit the mattress, your chest and stomach feeling the room’s chill without Sukuna’s body heat.

Sukuna was not playing around anymore; he aligned his forearms beside your face and blocked off whatever else existed outside with his mere presence, lips taut and eyes alert. He situated his torso on top of yours and separated your thighs with his knee. Not close enough to grind on.

“Tell me more,” he stared you down. “What does being completely outmatched feel like?”

You wondered if he meant how it physically felt or how the emotional part of being outmanned and outgunned felt like. Considering how his empathic ability was low-functioning to non-existing, you wanted to bet your money on a physical description… Yet, your tongue prepared to tell him about the terror and the uncertainty. It was not wise to divulge such details to Sukuna.

Scheherazade’s silver tongue might have saved her life a thousand and one times but not everyone’s talent was located in their mouth cavity. Like always, your hands bought you more time to think, to evaluate your words. You tentatively reached for his collarbones before changing your mind and guiding one hand to his lips. Perhaps he had meant to kiss your fingertips, perhaps he had yet another inquiry but his lower lip separated from his upper one and you cautiously pulled it downwards. A predator’s teeth greeted you.

“I can’t say it without sounding lame,” you said and crossed your arms across your chest. “Don’t laugh.”

Almost immediately, Sukuna leaned his weight on one forearm, allowing him to use the other to restrain your hand against the mattress. “I assure you,” he said, his eyes staring lazily at you, lids half-down, “you are not that funny.”

Suddenly, you wished Itadori Yuji would regain his consciousness to not have to deal with this asshole. Kind, encouraging Yuji would worship your existence. Perhaps you would eventually have learned to worship him in turn. ‘Learning’ being the key word, of course. You would fumble in the dark while attempting to appreciate him. This seemed like a good idea for about three seconds and then you returned to your occult god.

“I want to be inside you.” Sukuna, no longer interested in your thoughts, showed more interest in your body. He seldomly spoke of his wants, rousing your curiosity and – honestly – your arousal. The thigh between your leg shifted closer to your mound, touching your nether lips softly.

“You’re so demanding,” you complained, ending your sentence with a deep sigh. “You want me to be quiet, you want me to talk, you want to be inside me – will you ever be satisfied?”

You rolled your hips upwards in a slow movement, enjoying yourself as your lips parted against his flesh. It did not please you enough, so you continued to alleviate yourself.

“No.” His voice was unusually quiet. His lower lip brushed yours as he spoke. “Do you think you deserve it?”

You moved your chin downwards, the movement nearly imperceptible for someone who was not expecting it.

“I agree… if it’ll keep you quiet,” he said, releasing your arm to steady himself above you.

And you did keep quiet. Although he remained stone-faced, Sukuna seemed attentive to the way you opened your mouth and frowned in frustration, his crimson gaze traversing across your face.

He angled his hips downwards, pressuring your clit as you ground against him. You had never been more thankful for the things he did than when he let you use his body as a tool to get off. Each upwards motion elected a pang of pleasure, a beach in ebb and flow.

You don’t know for how long he tolerated your grinding but your lower body ached and his thigh was slick with your fluid when he removed his leg from you, its absence pulsating throughout your stomach. Despite your fear that he would push you away, you grabbed onto his neck to heave yourself against him, anything to regain that comfort. The relief that accompanied the heartbeat after he brought you up with him to sit upright lightened your entire being. His hands felt excruciatingly hot, almost unbearably so, on your ribcage.

Although you felt ready for him, your grip on his neck remained hard as he lifted you up above his cock. Sukuna descended you slightly, his tip bulging at your entrance. You knew your limit and didn’t hesitate to sink onto him, a movement less gentle than you wished due to your legs being wrapped around his waist. Your breath was uneven, hitching up whenever you strained against him. Avoiding getting your insides impaled by a guy’s dick was surprisingly hard labour. Eventually you settled at his base, a sense of completion glowing off you.

There were no comforting touches or encouraging words from Sukuna, whose tranquil expression made him seem more like Yuji than himself. His eyes almost shut, jaw relaxed... This was the alternate universe version of Sukuna, a man who did not lust for domination and who would settle down with his loved ones for an eventless life.

Hearing your dumb fantasies echo in your head, you rubbed your eyes with your knuckles until you saw stars. What idiocy. You had to cease these daydream scenarios or you’d be in deep shit in the future. You were an atrocious cultist.

---

I hope everyone enjoyed this. If you liked this, please give a comment/like/reblog. I listened to the Professor Tox remix of LOONA’s Girl Front and Ariana Grande’s Love Me Harder while writing this.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna #jjk #jjk reader insert

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ellitx · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5: Reticence

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to _01ki_

word count: 3.5k

Night had fallen fast upon the ruins. The hours that had gone by that were previously painted with hues of red, orange, and pink had all but faded leaving only a matte black canvas with no stars to be looked upon.

The darkness was thick and only a small source of light had allowed you to see a limited portion of your surroundings. Other than the darkness and yourself all that seemed to exist was the cold wind that brushed against your bare skin.

Cold water soaked your whole body, almost freezing as it went. Your face is drenched, the drops coming together to run into your eyes and drip from your chin. You released a shaky sigh and lowered yourself even further at the lake to cool down your burning face.

Today was rather… eventful, so to say. You bit your lower lip remembering the time you had gotten intimate with him. It made your heart race and face go burning hot just reminiscing those scenes that happened an hour ago. You sunk yourself even more until your entire head was submerged by the cool waters.

Stop thinking about it!

You scolded yourself and shut your eyes tightly to erase the salacious thoughts breaching your head. Truth to be told, you still can’t believe if it was real or just a fragment of your imagination. If it’s the latter then you should be ashamed of yourself for having thoughts such as that.

Forgive me father and mother and to the Celestia! You cried internally and buried your face in your hands. The water did not even help you to cool down your already burning face, sinking yourself further and deeper into the lake.

But even so, you can’t help but remind yourself how much Venti had poured his love onto you. His kisses were desperate and needy, clinging and holding you close to him in fear of losing you. Your fingers lightly traced the edge of your lower lips faintly remembering how his lips brushed against yours.

The beating of your heart raced and you lifted yourself, gathering the air you needed after letting yourself doused underwater. Another sigh spilled from you as you gazed upwards and stared absently at the blank canvas of the midnight sky.

A promise to stay together…

A sudden worry about your wisp friend has entered your head. You do wonder if he has really disappeared or not. It feels odd he’s missing in the group as the three of you are always together. You pray to the Celestia that he’s fine and safe, hoping he’ll come back to the two of you.

Your mind fades into dullness and everything is a foggy illusion. The quietness of the spring calms you; taking your mind off of things. All the things you honestly are unconcerned about. It’s the water. Your mind swirls, and it’s like standing on an everlasting waterfall. Ever so beautiful, but it can never last.

You blinked and your scrutiny went towards the stream, noticing a turquoise light shimmering underneath. A brow arched from your front in curiosity, letting yourself sit properly to get a good look at it.

Like a butterfly that was tranced by the sight of nectar, you were attracted to the mesmerizing glow of the waters. Unable to turn away, you reached for it and felt your own fingers roaming on your leg.

Your leg…? Now that you take a closer look at it, with a little bit of trouble observing in the dark, there were marks circling around your thighs. A light teal jagged pattern surrounded it combined with little shapes of triangles and diamonds.

The calmness that once blanketed you was now replaced with turmoil. You can feel the uneasiness in your chest waiting to take over. Perhaps it only wants to protect you but there really isn’t any danger. It sits there like paste propelling you towards anxiety you just don’t need.

You let out a slow controlled breath and attempted to loosen your stiff shoulders. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to calm yourself and say the marks have no effects on you— or so you think it was.

Though it was once again discarded the moment your eyes cast towards your chest and shoulder. A shape of a diamond was plastered right above your chest, with little triangles left on the edge. You were definitely sure they weren’t there before yet the marks continued appearing that almost coated half of your entire upper body.

A sense of dread washed over you at the display of these unknown symbols that appeared out of nowhere. Maybe you should go back to Venti, you’ve been staying here for who knows how long now, not to mention there are monsters lurking here that might attack you.

You’ve cleaned your body already and you don’t want to make him wait for you any longer. Standing up, you wrung your hair and let the chilling waters drip back to the stream. The fact that the marks glowed even more peeved you that it might attract attention from anything wandering nearby.

Unfortunately, the gods didn’t heed your pleas of hoping no one will see you. Your body shivered when you felt eyes piercing right through your back, watchful and almost too engrossed. You covered your chest and turned around to see any entities within your call.

Your throat bobbed in fear and anxiety, hastily grabbing your clothes in an effort to hide your bare self. It didn’t do much to cover you entirely, but it was still enough to obscure your front.

“Venti…?” You shakily asked out to the quiet ruins. You already expected only silence to greet you until a familiar chiming of a bell reached your ears. As the light drains away there is barely enough even for shadows. Whether you like it or not, the darkness comes and under it everything in this forest is hidden.

Even the stars and moon cower behind a dense layer of cloud, giving the air that tincture you associate with the world before a storm.

Your ears become sharper and your mind paranoid, every snap of a twig is a predator, even if it is a fawn. For each aroma, your brain jumps to the most fearsome thing it could be and your body prepares for flight, fright, or freeze.

For the most part, you just freeze. Running will give your position away and you’re not much of a fighter. All you can do is wait while the blackness comes and pray that the dawn is not far behind.

You settle in for a wait but it’s only minutes before a strong gust of wind charged at you. You shut your eyes and held your feet onto the ground, clutching onto the cloth as your hair fluttered against the air.

The small chiming was louder than before, almost close to you. You slowly opened an eye, taking a peek up to the time that white dotted eyes were staring at you. You shrieked in alarm and fear, startled by the small creature abruptly appearing right in front of you.

Your feet slipped in sheer panic, accidentally causing yourself to fall down and swamped yourself by the chilling waters of the lake.

—

“Th-thank you…” You muttered before taking the dry cloth offered to you by your dear wind wisp friend. It indeed surprised you to see Barbatos was here all this time. You thought he had suddenly vanished during the war against Decarabian as Venti had never really mentioned or talked about him when you were with him.

Well, it was a little bit of your fault you never asked about his whereabouts. Still, you were relieved and glad to know he was still alive and well all these years. A small smile crept to your face before patting his head in thanks.

Barbatos nuzzled on your hand then looked at you expectantly before flying over your shoulder. You blinked in confusion then giggled before carefully handling him on your palm and putting him down.

“Stay right here, okay? I’ll go change for a while.” You stood up from your kneeled form and headed behind the tree. However, your little friend followed after you making you stop in your tracks and furrowed your brows in worry.

Barbatos tinkled in delight and continued cuddling on your shoulder to erase the frown glued to your face while he rubbed himself against the diamond symbols on your skin. You awe in wonderment when a faint glow emitted from both you and him, though now was not the time to be amazed. You don’t want to get yourself cold from this breezy air, and as much as he was being cute and all, you still need to dress.

“I’ll be really quick! Just stay awhile for a bit.” You pleaded and this time he reluctantly abided by your words much to your relief. You made your way to the large plant as you hurriedly slipped your arms on the sleeves and tied the back of your dress, untucking your hair after that as you flipped it over your shoulder.

You placed a hand on your chest, feeling the steady beat of your heart against it. It still scares you what these designs on your skin are, though you do feel some sort of aura mizzling over you.

A pang of throbbing pain in your head struck you; it seems like you’re exhausted. The headache told you it was time to rest someplace quiet, to ride out the storm within your brain, for in time pain does ebb.

There are days tiredness comes in both forms, physical and mental. Your body really needs to rest as well as your mind, to get rid of the anxiety swarming your entire being. Without rest, your body will spiral into exhaustion.

A yawn escapes from you and you notice Barbatos from the corner of your eyes peeking behind the tree. You gave him a tired smile and motioned for him to come closer to you.

You really have to look for Venti, you don’t know how long you’ve been making him wait for you. Albeit you’re really drained and sleepy, you have to force your legs to carry you in search of the said bard.

Barbatos took notice of your fatigued state and tugged your sleeves in a struggle to make you stay awake and catch your attention. “We… We need to find Venti.” You mumbled as another yawn evaded.

He furiously shook his head and urged you to sit down on the ground, making angry jingling sounds. As if he’ll let you wander in this kind of time. It’s already late and dark, not to mention how tired you look so far.

You sink down onto the ground and rest your back against the rough trunk of the tree. The sleepy feeling must be how Teyvat feels when the summer has passed when it needs all those months to regenerate and come back in the spring.

The small creature flew over to you and settled himself on your palms. The tunes that he played to you to dreamland is a song you’ve heard and thousand times before and never enough. The chords are like a well-worn path, one your brain follows along willingly.

The mellow tinkling lulls you to sleep. In moments, your body relaxed, breathing steadily.

After making sure you were dozing off and in deep sleep, Barbatos took his chance to nestle himself on your neck. He can’t believe his powers drained out after marking you, and it’ll take a whole day for him to recover and revert himself back to his human form.

He didn’t think ahead and carelessly poured out his Anemo powers onto you just to let the symbols design your skin. He channeled himself onto you, letting the small wisps of wind gradually restore his powers.

—

The reverberation of a wistful sigh grabbed his attention, perking his head at you in silent concern.

Your eyes wandered everywhere, almost like a frantic search. Barbatos doesn’t need to ask what— or rather who you were looking for. It was already obvious to know who it was. It’s none other than him— or should he say, Venti.

You puffed your cheeks, slightly vexed your lover has left you all alone. “He even promised to stay with me… and now he’s breaking it?” Hearing your muttered words made him panicked as he swung his head, trying to defend “Venti” in his current form.

A series of continuous wailing of a bell made you look at him before giving a mirthless chuckle and fondle his hooded head to calm him. “Maybe he just went somewhere to do something…” You said cheerlessly, gazing over the waters of the lake to distract yourself.

You shouldn’t think of things like that. You know he won’t ever do that to you and he never will. You looked over at Barbatos and propped your chin on your palm, playing with his little antennas.

“Well, at least you’re here with me~ I really miss you a lot.” Your laughter was so free and pure, so childish despite the one you recently gave that sounded so empty and hollow. It came to his ears in a tickle and bounce— and it was only the moment he could do nothing but join in such generous mirth.

You leaned back and placed your hands on the ground to support your body as you looked up to admire the blue sky. The sensation of calmness and serenity wafting through you eased your mind and body, taking in the gentle breeze of the old ruins.

The tiny elemental being watched you in admiration. Your eyes blinking from time to time that allured him, allowing your lashes to flutter softly. Your eyes are simply spellbinding and captivating that he could get himself lost in there.

He unconsciously floated to you and snuggled himself on your hands. The memories of you and his friend being together made his heart wrenched in shame and guilt of what he was doing. He thought he was already sure the feeling that caged him was already absent, and yet here it was again coming back to humiliate him, one that he absolutely resented.

Your hums created a wordless melody of sweet-sounding harmonies, echoing in the winds to send it along to the other side. Until your next words that created a song had battered him with hurtful misery.

“Fly, fly away. Like a bird in the sky. See the world on my behalf, to the heavens may you fly.”

—

The sky was black tranquility married to the poetry of stars. It was the softness that called your body and brain to rest and let the heart go to its steady rhythm. Night came as a reward of sorts, a restfulness above to calm the soul.

The two of you traveled to the garden you once slept in, hoping Venti would be there. You’ve been waiting for him to come back the whole day and there was still no sign of his presence greeting you. You were nodding off as you continue and patiently await, expecting him to come back to you.

You pulled Barbatos close to your chest, absently staring off at the cecilia flowers he had come to collect for you. The petals shined brightly under the moonlit sky. Indeed it was beautiful and radiated elegance because of its pure colors and one of a kind flowery, though a feeling of sorrow ran through you the more you looked at it.

Fiddling the stem between your fingers, you brought it close to your nose, breathing in the fresh scent that reminded you of him. You were getting drowsy and drowsy as time flew by, each second felt like an hour the more you waited.

The collection of various flowers placed on the ground cushioned your fall as your petite body collapsed. Your wisp friend let out a frightened chime and summoned the winds to immediately check up on you.

A sense of relief washed away his worries that you were simply asleep and tired. It’s already time and he can feel his energy recovering— enough to alter himself back to his human form. It was all thanks to your anemo energy within you that allowed him to transmit the vitality from you to him.

He glided to the bushes, facing the small pond as it mirrored his appearance. A gentle gust of fresh air blows around him, the leaves dancing with the winds in his direction.

He has always loved the wind, for it comes to him so boldly, touching his skin. In soft breezes, it is finer than silk, smoother than water. In the gales it sings through the trees, sending loose leaves on a dancing fun air ride, hypnotic and beautiful. Almost like how the crowds have gathered around him to listen to the strumming of his lyre.

Today is almost still and he found himself in silent anticipation. His gaze went back on the rippling water, reflecting his appearance once again. Turquoise optics stared right back at him, eyes casting downwards to his chest while his fingers trailed over the same marks drawn on your body.

His pale skin allowed the symbols to gleam even more in the garden. Its teal light granted him to feel the Anemo ran through his body, the powers returning him once more in need to go in search for the true beholder of the winds.

Venti turned his head to look at your sleeping form. His eyes glued to the pattern on your thigh, faintly glowing that matched with his. Now, where were his clothes? He remembered he left it here before he was reverted to a little elemental wisp.

His hands reached for the white top that draped on the tree’s branch, slipping his arms on the sleeves and slowly buttoning up his shirt before leaving the top open to observe the marks drawn on his chest. The more he looks at the patterns inscribed on both yours and his skin, the more his heart raced in incitement and interest.

His hands hovered to his mouth to hide the wide smile and blush that clambered up on his front. This is bad, really bad. He was smiting for you all over again just like before. It reminded him that he was the one who covered you with these and how much you enjoyed it when he was creating it for you.

His throat bobbed before shaking his head to erase the thoughts, letting himself focus to get dressed. Venti had finally finished wearing his attires, leaving the cape and midsection outfit left on the ground, not bothering to wear it anymore. He carefully approached your unconscious form and knelt down to brush your hair away that had fallen from your face.

Your soft skin felt ticklish as you squirm in your sleep when his fingers brushed your cheeks. You slowly opened your eyes revealing the kindly tranquil of [eye color] orbs and met gaze with him.

Your entire body system awoke, the exhaustion was all but gone when you immediately pulled him into a tight hug. Venti wrapped his arms around you and cradled you in his arms, kissing your head as a greeting.

You buried your face on the crook of his neck and clutched onto his shirt firmly. "Where have you been?" Your voice wavered when you asked if he could faintly hear your soft sobs against him. “Sorry for the sudden disappearance. Something… came up.” His words trailed off causing his excuse not to be really effective which he already expected to happen.

There’s nothing he can do about it when he is in that situation, but he was very reassured that he can finally hold you close to him. Not being able to show his affection for you was unbearable especially how you were so worried about where he had gone off to.

The subtle kisses on his neck made his focus go back to you. Every time you place them there, he knew he’d adore you for all time. Those sweet kisses on his neck made his heart quivered as he pulled you close to him and lifted your head to meet with his gaze.

The pout on your face induced him to want to shower you with kisses and apologize for leaving you all alone. His lips pressed against your head then close to your eye, from your nose to your cheeks then down to your lips.

He was firm and gentle as he pulled you in, burning your lips with his mouth. You can hear the soft whisper of his breath as he exhaled. Venti inched closer and encircled his hand with yours, lightly pushing you down onto the ground as he penned you between him.

His mouth moved downwards leaving a trail of kisses on your skin until he stopped on your neck. You whimpered as your body shuddered when he lightly nipped on it, giving small sucks that had you released a small cry.

Even without telling a soul, it was common knowledge that both of you were lovesick and amorous. It was in the way your gaze lingered on one another, the way your voice became softer, and in coquettish smiles that he’d never worn before whenever he’s with you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #venti x reader #genshin impact venti x reader #yandere venti x reader #genshin impact venti #yandere venti #genshin impact reader insert #genshin x reader #yandere #yandere genshin impact #elliwrites #Illusory Sense

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

Text

You Were Made To Be Mine - 1.

Pirate!Bucky x Mermaid!Reader

Part 1 of this series.

Run-through: Bucky is one of the greatest pirates ever known. Living peacefully in his vast and flourishing archipelago; filthy rich and respected by all those around him. He is the leader of his people and his massive fleet, and is viewed as no less than a king by his crew and the people on his lands. He, however, has a secret that he keeps from everyone. The infamous and brawny pirate has lost his heart to one of the most beautiful creations he’s ever seen – you. Ever since the moment he saw you, he knew that you were meant to be his. But he belonged to the earth, you to the ocean. Could love and resilience somehow find a way to unite two worlds?

Themes: mermaid!reader, mythological elements, pirate!bucky, fluff, slight angst

Bucky looked around in triumph and pride as he raised his goblet of ale to join the others for the toast they were making.

Today had been an exceptionally fruitful. Good loot, good day. So they got together for a feast, to celebrate like they always did. They were quite a large mass of people, but the main hall of Bucky’s very grand fortress accommodated them all comfortably. Bucky’s home, more like his own personal castle, was situated on the main, and largest island in the middle of the archipelago he owned and ruled peacefully alongside his people.

The world called Bucky and his people thieves and looters, but really they were just doing what they had to do to support themselves and their families. Sure, along with that came a lot more money than they could ever need but that was secondary. Bucky made sure that his people knew that family and friends came first in life.

At the current feast, people cheered; some already more drunk than others. Torches lit the room beautifully, food pilled on the tables, happy faces around him, gold from his recent loot were being passed around in abundance and everyone chanted his name and told him how great he was – life couldn’t have been better. Although, as Bucky looked at the empty seat beside him, he felt a pang of heartache in his chest.

He had everything; loyalty and trust of the people he led, a massive fleet of ships ready for whenever, money, chests and chests of treasure – almost everything a man like him could ever want and need. All he lacked was you, physically, by his side. Sure, you were there in his mind like always. You were there in his heart, always.

But he craved nothing more than to just be able to hold your hand as you sat beside him, partaking in the celebration of his newest victory. He wanted to have you in his arms at all times, and show you off and shower you with love and affection. But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t because while he walked the earth, you roamed the deep waters of the ocean. And you were a secret of his, one which he intended on safeguarding for a while longer. Most people around him didn’t believe that your kind existed. Even he thought the same, until the day he met you.

Bucky caught himself smiling at the thought of the day you two first met…

-flashback-

It was a September evening, and Bucky and his men were near their harbor, exploring the new ship they had just gotten made. Another addition to their ever growing fleet. And as a way to make the new ship truly ‘their own’ and following a makeshift tradition of theirs, the men decided to have a friendly swords fight. The rules were simple, first to disarm their opponent wins.

So the men began. And the shouts and the cheer and the applause and all the clanging of the metal caught your attention as you were swimming by there. Cautiously, you surfaced to find a ship filled with people. You swam closer, and hid behind a rock and peeped at them. You recognized them and their ship, they were the pirates who lived nearby. You saw two men fighting on the deck of the anchored ship. One with slightly blond hair, and the other with luscious dark brown hair. The kind that blew with the wind majestically. The kind that made you swim just a little closer. The man turned, and you got a good look at his face and something inside you fluttered instantly. And there was this pressing need to swim closer and get a good look at the handsome, muscular human.

The night was getting dark so you knew none of the men would see you anyways. The sounds of the cheer got louder and louder until it broke into a loud roar. And given you had sensitive hearing, it made you wince just a little. You assumed that one of the men must’ve won, judging by the applause and the noise.

But then you also heard something drop into the water. You quickly got beneath the surface to check, and indeed saw that a metal sword was making it’s descend in the deep water. You swam to the surface just in time to see who it belonged to.

“…what you did, you punk! Now my new sword’s gone!” the one with dark brown hair complained to his friend and smacked him on the shoulder.

The one with blond hair clutched his chest and laughed out loud, joined by the other men. You read the situation quickly and concluded that the blond must’ve disarmed his dark haired friend and the latter was upset over his new sword being lost forever in the deep waters.

Hmm, surely there was something you could do…

“Come on, stop sulking over a sword. You have around a hundred of those in that fortress you call a home.” Steve threw his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and walked him towards the deck again. “Tonight, we feast in celebration of the new addition to our fleet!” Steve’s words earned a round of cheers and applause and roars.

Bucky eventually joined in. He congratulated his men and promised them many more ships in exchange for their fidelity. The men celebrated in the ship that night; getting drunk as usual. And Bucky had some ale but he made sure he didn’t get too drunk because his men’s safety was his responsibility and he figured he should at least stay sober and make sure everyone is alive and well till the next morning. Everyone eventually passed out in an ale coma. And Bucky was left alone. So he reached the top deck and leaned over the side of the ship and admired the shimmery water, illuminated by moonlight. It was peaceful. And beautiful. The sea had been Bucky’s first true love. He loved everything about it. The calm waves, the rough seas, the world unexplored world underneath--

“Psst!”

He heard a voice. And his flow of thoughts stopped immediately. Bucky looked around, all of his men and Steve included, were all passed out on the deck. Someone was even somehow in the empty barrel of ale. Surely no one on the ship ‘psst’ at him.

But then he heard it again.

“Psst!” followed by a loud splash of water and something shiny moving right below the ship. Bucky looked down to find a moving figure. A large fish? He was confused.

“What the hell?” he whispered to himself and went to grab a nearby burning torch, hoping it would provide at least some help, aiding him to see what was going on.

You heard his sharp intake of breath as soon as the golden light illuminated the part of the water where you were swimming. Not knowing what to say, you let him look down at you, hoping he’s see that you were harmless.

“Sir, I mean no harm.” You said after noticing that his eyes were getting wider and wider. And he leaned on the side of the ship so much you feared he might just fall. “Your sword, it fell earlier. I’ve come to return it.”

He gasped again when he heard your voice. Then he left the side of the ship and disappeared.

Oh well, you sighed. You waited for a few seconds but you didn’t see him. So you began swimming away, his sword still in your hand. You made up your mind that you’d keep it as a souvenir of having witnessed the existence of such a fine specimen of the human male specie. You hoped he hadn’t gone mad after seeing a mermaid, because most tend to-

Your thoughts were interrupted just about when you reached the large rock. You heard the sound of something in the water and out of instinct, you went and hid behind to rock. You clutched the handsome man’s sword to your chest and waited.

“Hello?” you heard a voice. A velvety, smooth and deep voice. You figured it must be the owner of the sword, but you were shy so you stayed hidden behind the rock, lowering gradually into the water; hiding.

Bucky had placed the burning torch at the front of the rowing boat, another sword by his side just in case, as he rowed closer and closer to the large groups of rock not far from his ship. He could feel someone’s presence and the voice in his head screamed what it was but he refused to believe it until he saw it for himself.

The closer he got, the louder he heard the sound of your nervous breaths. You were just as scared of him as he was of you. Yet, he was fascinated. And he sure as hell wouldn’t leave until he talked to you.

“I… I mean no harm either.” He spoke as he stopped right at the rock behind which you hid. He heard the splash of water again and then his breath hitched in his throat as you slowly emerged from behind the rock.

It felt to him like the most beautiful secret of the universe was unravelling right in front of his eyes. The moonlight and the golden light from the torch made you look ethereal, angelic almost like a goddess. You were easily the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And he was speechless once face to face with you. And so far he had only seen half of you.

He was glad your hair covered your chest because he wouldn’t want to come off as inappropriate by staring at your chest. Which would be hard even if you didn’t have long hair which covered your breasts because even now he was having trouble moving his eyes away from your face.

Something inside him fluttered as you cautiously swam closer to his boat. He couldn’t believe it. He wondered, is this what love at first sight feels like?

“I… uh, you… you’re beautiful.” He managed to whisper, which earned him a little smile from you. You felt your face heat up. Then you remembered why you were here face to face with a human in the first place.

Oh he was beautiful as well. Long hair, rough stubble, strong built and pretty eyes.

You swam closer to the rowing boat and carefully slid his shiny sword beside him inside the boat and you moved back a couple inches. You wouldn’t lie, his gaze was making you a little nervous. But Bucky was nervous too, being so close to something so beautiful and rare was making him lose his mind.

It got a little too quiet so you began moving away more and more, and Bucky noticed. “No wait!” he called out, stopping you from swimming away.

You stopped. “Yes?”

“I… uh,” he stammered. “Can you stay for a little while?”

And that’s how it all began that night. After he asked you to stay for a while, you smiled and nodded. Truth is, you wanted to be in his company for a while longer as well. Bucky sat in the boat and you swam beside the boat, and the two of you talked for hours. He had countless questions, to which you had answers and vice versa.

He was a little awkward, which was understandable because he had met a mermaid for the first time. At some point, you noticed he was hesitating to ask you something.

“What is it?” you asked gently, tilting your head to the side a little. He chuckled nervously.

“I hope this doesn’t sound too weird. I’m sorry if it does but… can I see your tail?” he had to ask, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He hoped he hadn’t offended you but judging by the smile on your face, he confirmed that he hadn’t.

“Oh, of course!” you beamed at him and excitedly took a dive, making sure your tail shows above the surface. You liked showing it off, it was your favorite thing about yourself.

Bucky watched in awe how you showed off your tail. It was breathtakingly beautiful; the scales were as shiny as the jewels he often found in his treasure chests. Your tail was a mixture of royal blue, azure and lilac – almost like it were the vibrant work of art of a god. The moonlight and the light from the burning torch made it glow and your fins were large and looked shiny and silky and almost luminescent.

Your upper body surfaced again, with a smile on your face. “How’d you like it?” you asked playfully.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” he stated with excitement like a kid. And you two shared a laugh over how he was amazed by how pretty your tail was.

He was funny, he made you laugh a lot that night. And each time you would give him a piece of information about your world, he’d listen attentively. That night was magical, it was pure bliss for both of you. Then the sky began getting brighter and both of you realized that you had in fact spent the entire night talking.

He asked you about where you lived, and you told him that there were underwater caves under the little isles; not far from the larger islands he lived on, and that was your home. He was blown away by how you lived quite close by but he had never seen you. Or any of your kind.

“Merpeople are good at hiding.” You replied. He smiled down at you softly.

“Well, I hope you won’t hide from me anymore.”

You talked for a while longer, then the sun began to rise on the horizon. “I should go.” You said, really not wanting to.

Bucky wanted to spend more time with you. “We will meet again, won’t we?” he asked, voice laced with hope and chagrin already because you were leaving.

“Sure. We will.”

“How will I find you again?” he asked, worried that this might be the first and last time you met. And he knew he had to see you again because he won’t be able to stay away for too long.

You answered before you swam away. “Come by the isles at nightfall whenever you want. And call out my name, I’ll be there.”

Bucky smiled as he watched you swim away, knowing that he was already whipped and catching feelings.

Heeding your words, two days later Bucky found himself rowing to the isles, where you said you’d show up if he called out your name. He did, and a few seconds later, he heard the splashing of water and within the next second or two; you swam towards him.

“Hi! I didn’t think you’d come back again.” you smiled as you approached his boat again. He smiled brightly as soon as he saw you.

“I had to. I needed to see you again.”

You two ended up sitting on the rock, by the shore of one of the smaller isles and you talked again; after Bucky managed to take his eyes off you. You found his amazement rather adorable.

“I heard humans say that staring was rude.” You teased softly.

He chuckled and looked down at his feet dipped in water, right beside your beautiful fins. “Sorry, you’re too pretty.”

Something inside you fluttered again. And it did so each time he rowed towards the isles to come and meet you.

And as time went by, he came by more and more frequently. And you found yourself rejoicing each moment spent with him.

He did the same. Making his way to the isles and meeting you became his favorite thing to do. And each time, you would share more and more about your life with him, and he did the same. Your conversations would get deep and intimate and personal often. Over the first few weeks, he learnt more about your family. How you didn’t have parents, and most of your siblings and friends had migrated elsewhere. And you learnt about how he grew up with his best friend Steve’s family, and he had never met his own parents.

You laid your head on his shoulder the night he told you all about his childhood and how he missed his parents. Bucky circled an arm around you and pressed his cheek to the top of your damp hair. You grabbed his hand and held it in between yours.

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Your words meant so much to him. It made him feel warm and complete. He had never felt this way before, definitely never felt this way for anyone else.

The night he first kissed you was just as emotional and raw.

“Must be so beautiful down there.” He said in awe, referring to your life underwater. You smiled.

“It is. Very beautiful, but it’s also lonely.” You replied.

“Why so?”

You then explained to him how it all worked down there. Merpeople was slightly different than humans when it came to choosing a partner and settling down. Most merpeople found their partners at an early age and over time their bond grows stronger and stronger until they’re grown adults and are able to migrate wherever they wish to go and have families of their own.

You continued, “Almost everyone I know have found their mate, and it won’t be long until they all leave to live their lives and have families. And I’ll be left here alone because I haven’t found my one.” you sounded so upset that Bucky felt as though someone had pierced a dagger through his heart.

He reached out and held your chin and turned your head towards his. He admired your face, and your features. “Perhaps you’ve been looking in the wrong places.” He whispered, enchanted by the look in your glossy eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat at the proximity. “Perhaps I have.” You whispered back and before you could think of anything else, his lips were on yours.

He poured everything he felt into that first kiss. His adoration, his warmth and his feelings – you could feel it all. His soft lips brushed against your own as he gently cupped your face and deepened the kiss. His tongue slipping into your mouth and stroking the top of your mouth gently. He bit your lip and made you smile through the kiss. He pulled away to allow you sometime to breathe, he rested his forehead against yours and kept his eyes closed as he relished the feeling of you being in his arms.

“I am hopelessly falling in love with you.” he whispered after he recovered from the kiss. It was true because he had never felt this way with anyone before. Being with you brought him comfort and warmth and he never knew he could love someone this much.

You smiled and pulled away to look into his shiny, ocean blue eyes. “I think I am falling for you as well.”

From then on, your love only grow more and more and it solidified as it went.

-end of flashback-

“Buck! Where are you going? You can’t leave yet, we’ve barely begun!” a tipsy Steve called out after Bucky as he tried to get away from the feast as sneakily as possible because he was already late for his rendezvous with you.

“I…uh, there’s something I need to take care of. Be right back!” he shouted at his friend over the noise of the celebration. He lied, Bucky knew he would be with you on the rocks by the shore of the isle at least until sunrise.

He got to the harbor and took a rowing boat and hurried over to you. He knew you’d be waiting, as always.

Bucky smiled as he got closer and closer to the isle. And despite having done this almost each night for the past many months, he could still never get used to the sight of you sat there waiting for him. On the highest rock by the shore, you smiled as you saw his boat approaching. Bucky could never get over how pretty you looked, with your long, damp hair down and your shiny tail. You looked no less than a goddess when the moonlight shone down on you.

Bucky always found it adorable how your fins would flutter quicker and quicker against the rock in excitement as he got closer and closer to you. He left the boat on the shore then hurried his way over to you on top of the rock, engulfing you in his strong arms immediately.

You wrapped your arms around him at once, embracing his warmth as he embraced the cold droplets of water on your skin. He kissed your forehead and you looked up and he whispered, “Hello, my love.” and he bent down to kiss your lips.

You kissed him back and pulled away to look at him. Just the sight of his face filled your heart with warmth. “I’ve missed you.” you said as he made himself comfortable beside you and scooted closer to you.

He smiled and reached up to stroke your cheek with his warm hand. “I know,” he cooed and lazily caressed your damp skin, “I was at the feast and they wouldn’t let me leave early.” He explained and you seemed all excited at the sound of the feast.

“Tell me all about it!” you placed your head on his shoulder as he told you all about how they were celebrating yet another victory of theirs. You could listen to his voice forever; it was calming almost like a lullaby.

When he finished giving you all the details, you sighed and mumbled, “I wish I could be there.”

He sensed the sadness in your voice. “I wish so too, sweetheart.” He tightened his grip around you, letting you know that no matter what barrier there was, he was here with you.

You pulled away from him and stared into his eyes. “I went looking again today. But…” you sighed again, closing your eyes briefly. “I won’t give up, Buck.”

Bucky knew what you were talking about. “Sweetheart, it could be a myth. I don’t want you to risk your safety and all that you have while looking for something that may not exist at all.” He reasoned.

You shook your head, a little stubborn as always. “No, you’re all I have. I want to be with you in the long run. And I’m not giving up on it.”

What you were talking about was a story that you had heard since you were a kid. Amongst merpeople, there was a legend that stated that in the depths of the ocean, somewhere in a deep cave lied a magical potion which could give merpeople the ability to walk the lands. The story goes that long, long ago, some of the first merpeople created said potion using ancient magic as a means to protect their kind from extinction. Should the oceans get too dangerous and inhabitable one day, merpeople could then move on land and continue existing in human form.

You had heard the story countless times, and no one ever really believed it just like most beings don’t believe in myths. But now, now that you had met Bucky and fallen in love with him, you wished with all your heart that the legend was indeed true and that you could find the potion one day, and hopefully share your life properly with Bucky. And for a while now, you’ve been obsessively looking for it.

When Bucky first heard you talking about it, he was thrilled. Then, he began thinking; was he being selfish by helping you nourish this hope? What if it was indeed a myth, and didn’t exist? Was he being selfish by encouraging this desire of yours to walk on land, when you belonged to the ocean?

“You’re awfully quiet today.” You pointed out when you noticed that he seemed deep in thought.

He voiced out his concerns regarding you finding that potion. “I mean, I can’t help but feel as though I’m asking for too much. You were born here, and I’ll be asking you to leave it all behind. For me. It makes me feel selfish.”

You sighed and laced your fingers with his. “What if the situation was reversed? And you somehow find out that there’s a way for you to come and live with me in my world. Would you do the same for me?” you asked.

He was quick to reply. “In a heartbeat.” He lifted your intertwined hands and placed a kiss on the back of your hand. “You know I would do anything for you.”

You smiled at him. “It’s the same for me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Just trust me on this, it’s only a matter of time before I find it. And then we can be together, actually together. And you can show me around your home.”

Bucky wanted that as well. He would give up anything and everything just to have you beside him all the time, to bring you home and share his life with you. But he was worried. The ocean, as beautiful as it was, it was also unpredictable and dangerous. And the thought of losing you because you went after this potion was scary, and he was sure that if something ever happened to you while you went looking for this potion, the guilt would kill him in no time.

He wasn’t too much of a fan of your obsession with finding that potion. If it truly existed, if, then it was said that the path which led to it was dark and dangerous. Deep waters where supposedly monsters lurked around, protecting the potion from getting in the hands of wrong merpeople. The thought of you getting hurt down there where he couldn’t reach nor help you made Bucky tremble in fear.

“Just be careful, alright. I can’t lose you sweetheart, I just can’t. Okay?” he made sure you understood how serious he was regarding your safety.

You nodded smiling, and leaned in for a kiss.

Bucky got back on his boat to leave just before the crack of dawn. And as usual you swam alongside his boat till you could, seeing him off as he went away for the day. Then you would always part with a sweet kiss.

Bucky held your chin gently as he leaned down for a kiss. You remained by the side of his boat for a while longer. And then he saw your eyes getting glossy again. He reached out to stroke your cheek, “You always get teary when we get here.” He pointed to the shallow water.

You sniffled. “I just wish that one day, I can go further than this. With you.”

Bucky sighed as your reply. He didn’t like how you often blamed yourself for the barrier that was there, naturally, between the two of you. “Hey,” he tilted your head up slightly. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead again. “Now go and get some sleep. And don’t go wandering off too far.” He always told you that, fearing that one day you might swim too far and won’t be able to find your way back to him.

That fear of his formed on the day you told him that once when you were a kid, you wandered off too far from home and got lost and couldn’t find your way back until one of your older siblings came to find you. The mere thought of you lost and alone in unknown waters and the idea of never seeing you again sent unpleasant chills down his spine.

You giggled at his warning and swam away. He watched you as you went, heard the splashes of water as you swam further away. Then it all stopped, meaning you were in deeper water, on your way home.

Bucky cared a lot about you and he didn’t want you to be heartbroken over not being able to find that potion. Yet at the same time he wanted you to find it so you two could be together forever. But then he was always filled with the guilt of being selfish for even thinking so.

He didn’t want you to change, despite how much you wanted to do so, just to be with him. Yet, the thought of letting you go was next to impossible. Bucky was conflicted, and so were you sometimes. But the one thing you were dead sure about was one another and both of you were willing to do whatever it takes to preserve your love. Bucky just hoped that it doesn’t get to a point where the only option would be letting you go for your own well-being.

Then again, no love story came without challenges and tragedies…

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #pirate!bucky #mermaid!reader

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oddaodd · 4 years

Text

Her Eyes

· Tommy Shelby arranged marriage imagine ·

warnings : arranged marriage.

(Heapings of fluff and a pinch of angst if you squint)

Y/n never imagined her family would have the nerve to marry her off as part of a deal between the one Thomas Shelby and her father, who had insisted that he couldn’t properly trust the Shelbys if they weren’t united as a family, but there she was, standing outside the church ready to meet the man she would spend the rest of her life with. Her father was a powerful man with many important connections and despite Thomas’s desire to never marry again after grace, he found himself having to accept to the deal. When he fist saw her, scarcely some hours before their wedding, he was intrigued by her beauty and kind eyes, but he put on a nonchalant facade as he introduced himself to the woman whom he would have to live till death do them part.

“Thomas Shelby” he outstretched his hand.

She stared at him for a bit “y/n” was all she managed to say as his rough hand wrapped around her soft one with a firm shake. There was something about him, almost like dream she couldn’t quite place. He was a very alluring, almost hypnotic man and she felt oddly drawn to him just a few seconds after first laying eyes on him.

“Lets get this over with, shall we?” He monotonously said, breaking her out of her reverie before stepping into the church.

The first few months were really hard because Thomas refused to let her get close to him, both emotionally and physically, Grace’s memory still freshly lingering around him. Y/n however was determined to turn their marriage into something more than just a business deal. She would play with Charlie, she would bring Tommy tea whenever he was at home, and she always tried to get him to smile which wasn’t easy, but after a lot of persistence, slowly but surely Tommy let her in. Truth was, despite the circumstances he was somehow glad he met her. Thomas never thought he would find a match to his wit but there she was. They could spend hours and hours just talking as time unsuspectedly passed by. She was an unusual person to say the least, smart, kind, caring, prim and proper, sometimes ladylike, sometimes not, and with very expressive eyes. That’s the first thing he noticed about her when he saw her for the very first time, the pool of mixed emotions in her eyes before their wedding, she didn’t look perfectly sad, but she didn’t look perfectly happy either. He found himself enthralled by her eyes and in the end they were what made him relent to her subtle yet kind acts of affection. She found herself quickly falling for him and he too did for her, although he would never admit it to anyone least of all, to himself. Their relationship grew to become something along the lines of a friendship and she always made sure to give him space not knowing quite sure if he reciprocated her feelings or not, he was a difficult man to decipher after all.

One night he came home to find her sitting in the grass out in the garden all by her lonesome just staring at the sky and his stars. As soon as she saw him she invited him to join her. He sat next to her under the quilt, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at the stars when she was sitting next to him. He had had an overly tense day and seeing her there, toying with the grass between her toes and a quilt over her shoulders, just enamored by the night sky made all his worries disappear for a while. . Thomas had learnt a lot just by looking at her, she was brought up to be the perfect high society lady, but when she was alone or with him or Charlie she could really be her own carefree self, knowing they wouldn’t judge her and he felt glad he had become one of the few who could see her like that. She felt his stare and turned round to look at him, she could feel her cheeks going red when their eyes met and in the heat of the moment, she leaned in to kiss him. A tiny pang of insecurity poked at her insides when he didn’t immediately kiss her back, thinking that she might have had misread the look in his eyes, she pulled away, but he stopped her by placing both his hands on either side of her face and looking into her eyes where he could see a strange strain of vulnerability before kissing her. Hesitantly she kissed back and they became so entangled in each other that everything around them became non existent. He made love to her that night with the stars as witnesses and after that, their relationship flowered into something else.

Time passed and they grew closer and closer together. She earned the trust of the rest of the Shelbys and soon enough she felt like a part of the family, even more so than with her own family.

Every year Y/n´s family held an event to “ rejoice with friends and family” as they put it, but y/n knew it was more of a “I´m richer than you” parade to which all of her family’s friends and relatives were invited to. Knowing that her mother would make a fuss if she didn’t attend, she and Tommy found themselves in y/n´s family home one Friday evening, dressed in the heights of fashion, drinking the most expensive champagne money could buy and sitting through her mothers inquiries about their married life. Y/n´s mother was relieved that y/n had married after all, her biggest fear was any of her daughters not living up to the standards according to which she brought them up to be.

“So, Y/n dear, are you with child yet?” Her mother asked in feigned sweet tone.

Y/n choked a bit on her champagne, not expecting her mom to blatantly ask that. Tommy turned to look at her and after taking a drag of his cigarette replied with a serious face“Not yet Mrs. Y/l/n”

“Oh but you are planning to aren’t you?” Her mother insisted.

“Not at the moment mother” y/n chimed in a bit too harshly for both her and her mother’s liking. Tommy grabbed her hand underneath the table with his free hand to reassure her a bit, but it did little to put out y/n´s feelings of discomfort “and anyway, why does it matter to you? You already have plenty of grandchildren from my sisters” she said this time with a politer tone.

“All im saying dear is that you are not getting ny younger and I would certainly not blame Mr. Shelby here” her mother said pointing at Tommy “ if he were to decide the deal he made with your father isn’t worth enough to put up with a woman of your likes” she finished before taking a sip of her glass of champagne and looking over at the couple to asses their reactions.

Y/n opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn’t find the words she needed. Tommy took her silence as an opportunity to get his word in after another long drag of his cigarette “with all due respect Mrs. Y/l/n, I think we are way past the business part of this marriage”

Her mother gave him a forced smile indicating that she didn’t believe a word of it before replying with “of course you are Mr. Shelby”

Tommy smiled at her mother in reciprocity before putting out his cigarette and turning to look at y/n “ Let’s dance, love” he said.

They made their way to the dance floor and swayed to the music “Now I know why you weren’t exited to come” he said looking down at her, trying to lighten her up a little. She barely nodded, too consumed in her own thoughts, her mother’s words ringing In her ears. She would be lying if she were to say it hadn’t occurred to her before, that the distant nagging thought of Tommy only pretending to enjoy her company for the sake of not having another problem to deal with hadn’t kept her up some nights in the past.

“Let’s just go home” she mumbled into his chest.

And so they did and for the next few days Tommy could see that she was a bit distant, sure she always smiled and acted like everything was fine, but no matter how well she acted, Tommy could see right through it, all because of her eyes. She was a proud woman and he knew she would never admit her mother’s words had gotten to her.

One day she was working on some of the flowers she had planted across the property as Tommy approached her. He must have been very silent for when he called her name she gave a little jump.

“God you scared me” she said with a laugh, wiping a bit of sweat of her forehead “Are you in a habit of startling unsuspecting gardening women?” She teased.

“Only on you” he replied looking down at her.

She could see there was something in his mind, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was so she stood up shaking some of the dirt that had collected on her dress before loosely wrapping her arms around him so that she could still see his face and inquired “ What can i do for you dear husband?”

He raised his eyebrows and his mouth curved up ever so slightly. She smiled at him knowing she was the only one who could get him to smile and waited for his response.

“Marry me” he said in all seriousness.

She gave him a coy smile “ But we are already married” she said doubtfully, not knowing what had brought Tommy to request such thing.

“Aye, but i want you to be my wife knowing that I married you for you, because I love you , not as a part of a business deal” he earnestly said before producing a small golden ring with a tiny orange opal from his coat pocket and grabbing her hand (that was covered in dirt) in his “ So, Y/n will you marry me?”

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting but it wasn’t that, it was the fist time Tommy had verbally proclaimed his love for her. Her eyes welled up in tears, a whirlwind of emotions raging inside in full display. Tommy brought one of his hands to her face to wipe away the one tear that did dare to fall. “Of course I´ll marry you Thomas Shelby” she said grabbing his hand in hers and looking at how he, with his other hand effortlessly slipped the ring on her finger before chuckling tearily and crashing her lips on his. They had a small ceremony right there on the garden that same weekend, saying their vows in front of the Shelby family. Unlike their first weeding, everyone seemed happy and even though it wasn’t an “official” wedding, they both knew it was the one that mattered.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby one shot #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby fluff

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after-witch · 4 years

Text

Adoration and Pain (Vampire!Yandere Overhaul x Reader)

Title: Adoration and Pain (Vampire!Yandere Overhaul x Reader)

Synopsis: You are his pure, sweet doe. His perfect angel. The most exquisite blood bank that a vampire, that Kai Chisaki, could ask for.

Word Count: 2243

Notes: yandere, vampire, descriptions of violence and mild gore, mentions of past suicide attempt

You sit on your bed, legs crossed, and take a calming breath. You remind yourself of the things that you know, the things that you can count on. It keeps you from panicking, it keeps you sedated while you wait for him to arrive.

The things that you know: It is night time. You are in your room. You are wearing a pale blue night gown, the one with a small blood stain on the lace wrist cuff that won’t come out. Kai will be coming soon.

You still know your name. You still remember, however dimly, what it was like to feel the sun on your skin, the glowing warmth of a summer day, the cool brightness of a cheery blue sky in the wintertime. Kai will be coming soon. You have no way of tracking time now, in the small suite he’s crafted for you, nor did he like you attempting to keep track of the days.

What is a day when you’ve lived hundreds of years, after all?

Kai will be coming soon.

Time is not a blip for you, though, poor mortal thing that you are; instead, the days--the nights, the nights--drag on endlessly, sometimes feeling like an exquisitely painful, delirious dream. Grounding yourself when you wake up is the only way to keep things from completely blurring together, keeping things separate enough to maintain sanity.

He visits you every night to feed. To tear open your skin and drink the oozing life blood inside. Pure blood, he’d said, when he first took you away from everything you’d ever known. Sweet blood, clean, refreshing--the finest blood he’d ever tasted, and now that he’d tasted it, Kai Chisaki could not fathom anything less.

You were his endless dinner, providing sustenance night after night. Never mind the bruising, never mind the pain, never mind the sounds, those sickening slurps of your blood being feasted upon. Never mind the fear that still gripped you every time he removed his mask, revealing sharp, predatory fangs that could only be hidden by keeping his mouth shut tight--or by wearing a mask.

You know the rules, now. He’s never been so kind as to lay them out neatly, organized on parchment and ink, ready for you to read and repeat until they’re drummed into your pretty little brain. But he’s expected you to know them, nonetheless. They’ve been learned night by night, in a repetition of a different kind. You used to scream and fight and claw, beast-like.

That was ages ago, when you still had the strength, physically and otherwise. Before you’d become a paler, fragile thing that gets dizzy, sometimes, when you stand up too quickly. Before you learned the rules, and before you’d learned that obeying him made your life a little easier. Not by much, no, not by much. But a little was an enormous thing in the existence you’d been trapped in.

He keeps you in nightgowns. White ones, pastel ones, with lace and frills, all in the softest of fabrics that feel like a dream against your skin. They must have cost a fortune. You’d said as much once, and he merely smiled at you patronizingly. “Such things aren’t appropriate for ladies to talk about,” he’d said, and you never brought it up again.

You sleep during the day. Or what you assume must be the day, for it is when he leaves you. You are not afforded the luxury of windows. He can’t take the risk, you see, of you accidentally forgetting to close the curtains. Not that you would ever, ever try to kill him, of course. You were pure and sweet and a doe, a lamb, the sweetest thing on hell or Earth.

Sometimes, when he murmurs these things against your wrist, your own blood and flesh brimming against his darkened lips, you wonder if he’s genuinely forgotten how you used to behave. You were not a pure and sweet doe when you’d broken the rail of your bed and tried to stake him with it. You were not a lamb when you broke your mirror and used the glass to stab him, or when you’d found a forgotten shard underneath your bed and sliced your wrists open in an unsuccessful bid to end it all. Both earned punishments, the second more so--you’d tried to deprive him of your sweetness, your purity, your beauty. A terrible thing to do, for someone like him, someone so everlasting and lonely. And hungry.

That was, however, in the past. Weeks ago or months or maybe years. You don’t know, and you know better than to ask--except sometimes when you’re delirious from blood loss and forget yourself. He’s forgiving of those slip-ups, most of the time. You even have a new mirror, and every morning--night, you remind yourself--before he arrives, you get dressed in a fresh nightgown and brush your hair in front of it.

Which is what you must do now. You slowly put your legs over the side of the bed, rising carefully. You don’t want to pass out on the floor. Once your mind steadies, you make your way over to the large, immovable chest pressed against the wall of your room. You open it, relishing the cool smell of wood that accompanies the ancient creak of the hinges. Inside are your night-gowns and under-linens. You lift up a delicate nightgown made with white muslin; it’s trimmed in exquisite lace and has a ruffled trim that ends at your ankles. You grab an accompanying chemise to slip on underneath.

The curtain on the mirror is there to keep you sane, whenever he feeds. He has no reflection, a fact which used to make you cross yourself; once, it had slipped off while he greedily drank down your blood, and the sight of wounds pulsing out gore like magic had made you pass out. You cautiously slide it over, letting it fall to the ground with a theatrical flourish.

You stand in front of the mirror, slip off your worn gown and under-dress and set them aside. You don’t pay your naked body, thinner and paler like the rest of you, much mind; instead you swiftly change into your fresh clothes, wanting to be ready for his arrival. You smooth down the fabric with your hands, then lean over inside the chest to grab your brush.

Your hair is longer than you like it, which makes it tangle and twist terribly; but he likes it long, so you don’t dare ask to cut it. But you make do, patiently unweaving the tangles from all the tossing and turning you do at night. The strands feel a bit greasy, and a pang of anxiety plagues you--you should have bathed before going to sleep the night before. He likes you to be presentable. You wonder if you have time to wash your hair, at least, but the unmistakable steps coming up the stairs answer your query for you: there is no time.

Thump, thump, thump. You rush, awash in dizziness as you quickly toss your things inside the trunk and swiftly lean down to replace the fallen curtain. Thump, thump, thump. Your head is still reeling by the time you climb back onto your bed, pulling your legs up and curling them to the side. You take a few gulping breaths to calm yourself, just in time to hear the large, heavy door to your suite unlocking.

Before you were taken captive by a vampire, you imagined them to all wear fantastical cloaks, dull and dusty from mausoleums and nights spent roaming the earth. You imagined them to have bat-like ears and claws. You would never think him a vampire, to look at him. He has tousled black hair and striking eyes. He wears a refined, yet simple, suit. It’s only when he takes off the mask and speaks--when those fangs, hidden and terrible--reveal themselves, that his true nature becomes evident.

Tonight, like all nights, he locks the door behind him after he enters. You don’t have the strength to run, even if you could imagine escaping from this place. But it’s a habit, you think, long-ingrained in an immortal creature.

He approaches the bed with a calm, almost soothing demeanor. “Did you sleep well? Are you hungry?”

Pleasantries, pleasantries. Spoken so softly and sweetly. He sits down on the bed next to you, and you nod. You wonder if your eyes are as wide as they feel. Maybe that’s why he calls you a doe, a lamb. You tremble before him like an animal to the slaughter--only your slaughter never ends with death, only with pain and nightmares and fever dreams.

His hand reaches up to pet your cheek. It feels cold and stiff to the touch. “I’ll bring you dinner later, pet.” His hand strokes your cheek, and you imagine it would feel comforting, if it didn’t feel so clammy. You lean your cheek into his touch, as you’ve learned to do. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You nod again. He likes it when you are quiet and compliant and meek. He’s said so, and you believe him, for it is your quiet and compliant behavior that earned you new things; books and a silver hair brush and even a necklace, gold and rimmed with blood-red rubies, though he’d yet to give you anything but nightgowns to wear it with.

His hand travels from your cheek, down your jawline. You shiver as he traces a healing, bruising wound on your neck. He continues his exploration of your body, roaming hands ghosting against your breasts and then down, down to your thighs. You tremble, and he smiles.

“Hand me your wrist.” Your arm raises without a thought. Memories of pain and terror and screams flood through you, heating up your skin and making your heartbeat thrum. He rolls the sleeves of your nightgown back, and a small part of you is thankful--it’s such a nice dress, and you’d have to have it spoiled with blood.

Kai lifts your wrist until it rests against his cold cheeks. He presses his nose against the thin, ever-bruising skin, against the blue veins that wait underneath. He groans, softly, inhaling your scent and feeling the warmth of the life flowing through you.

“So pure,” he murmurs. “So precious.” His lips part, revealing the eager fangs behind him.

“All mine…”

Holding your wrist in one hand, he brings his mouth closer, opening wide and then biting into the soft flesh with a sickening sound.

You hold your breath. You don’t want to scream, you don’t want to--

But the pain floods you, as it does every night, and you cry out anyway. You moan in pain, and it merely makes him moan in return. His grip is unrelenting as he eagerly begins to drink, sucking blood and even bits of flesh into his mouth with practiced ease. The sensation of his tongue lapping inside the gory wound makes your stomach churn.

Your wrist feels like it is being stabbed in a thousand different ways; burned and dissected and pounded by a hammer. You forget yourself and look away from the sight of Kai feasting on you, the sight of your blood smearing down his chin.

“Mind your manners,” he says quietly against your open wound. You look back instantly, feeling weary and slightly dizzy and tired. You hope he will be done soon. You don’t want to pass out again. You want something to eat. You want to stay up late enough to read a few pages in a book, if your eyesight isn’t too blurry.

Your vision does blur, for a moment, and when it returns Kai is running a sharpened nail down your wrist. It burns, as it always does, but it heals the gaping wound with barely a trace of a scar. Nothing can be done about the bruising, the blue and grey and green mottled skin that takes ages to fade away. He usually bites the same spot again before those can properly heal.

You let out a shuddering cry of relief as he finishes, as he lifts his fingers--now warm, thrumming with your secondhand life running through them--and wipes away your tears. His fingers stroke your cheek again, leaving behind a smear of your own blood, and this time you lean into his hand without effort.

“Such a precious thing you are, such a delicate thing.”

You nod, barely listening, thinking instead to the promise of a dinner, the promise of a few pages in a book. You will never leave. He’s made sure of that, weakening you in mind and body. You will be here as long as he’s hungry. As long as he needs to feed. And he will always need to feed. You will never leave.

#yandere overhaul #vampire au #vampires #yandere #kai chisaki x reader #afterwitch writes

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wallwriterstuff · 3 years

Note

Hi! I have a second request if that’s okay! (Let me know if it’s too much or too detailed!). Can I please request a Demetri x Newborn vampire!fem!reader where when Demetri, Felix, Jane, and Alec come to Seattle to see Victoria’s Newborn Army, Demetri sees Y/n from where they’re standing, and she’s all huddled up in the corner, scared as can be because she just woke up from her vampire transformation and is now a newborn, but she has much more control than the others and she’s absolutely terrified, so she hasn’t left her corner, not even to feed. Demetri can sense that she’s his mate, so he goes to her and is able to coax her out of her corner because she also feels the mate pull, therefore immediately trusting him, and he brings her with him back to Volturra. Aro would be so excited that Dem found him mate omg. Also do you think they would tell her that she’s the only vampire that they left alive?

So this one got away from me a bit to and I totally added in a character purely because I wanted to in the moment, but here we go, a day earlier than planned!

Little Rabbit ||Demetri Volturi x Female Reader||

Part 2: Still Learning

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, a bit of gore, nothing you wouldn’t expect from the Volturi to be honest.

Words: 5603

Summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission; newborns break the law, newborns deal with the consequences. It was a sentence they’d carried out multiple times before with flawless execution, but this time there’s a problem…what on Earth is Demetri supposed to do with you?

There were laws for a reason.

For centuries the Romanians has subjugated humankind, and after the Volturi had overthrown them, it became clear that making humans forget they ever existed would be for the best. Humans were weak and stupid yes, but they were also very angry; angry at being used as slaves and breeding stock, angry they had been mistreated and lost loved ones to Romanian cruelty. Angry humans meant rebellion and the Volturi would most certainly win that war. They couldn’t afford to decimate the human population, not when it would cause infighting amongst their kind with too many competing for a limited food source. So they had, for centuries, cultivated the myths that became popular fantasy tropes in human media. Slowly but surely those who remembered the Romanian cruelty died out, and their stories died with them, warped into fiction by carefully placed rumours and some flamboyant acting certain people had been quite happy to engage in.

In the 21st century vampires had become highly romanticised. There was a mystery about them that was glamourous, sexy, addictive. It was a form of perfection that was unobtainable – or so it was supposed to be. Vampires were most certainly still graceful, flawlessly beautiful in a way that screamed inhuman, but they were nothing like the movies made them out to be. Your last night as a human was a bit of a blur and only seeming further away by the minute. There was a street shrouded in darkness, with a flickering streetlight that did little to illuminate the concrete beneath your feet, and a breeze, something cold. The only thing you clearly remembered from that night was Riley, and that was only because he was one of the first things you saw with your new eyes when you awoke for the last time.

He was still as pretty as your murky memories dictated when you saw him the second time round, but now you were so much more sensitive to things it was easy to pick up on the more sinister aspects of his personality your human-self had simply ignored, too dazzled by this pretty man with his silver-tongue. He’d set you on fire, literally, and the burning just hadn’t stopped. It had once been a whole-body ache, nerve endings blazing and muscles twitching as you tried to outrun an internal kind of agony that scorched away your very soul. It was a futile attempt because only one thing would ease your suffering…not that you knew it. At least, you didn’t seem to.

From their perch in a multistorey car park the Guard had been watching the newborn’s make a mess for the past ten minutes. It was something straight out of the grisliest horror film, though the majority of screaming had died to wet gurgles now as the victims of their reign of terror drowned in their own blood. Most were feeding, some were fighting. A metallic screech rent the air and Felix smirked slightly as another newborn went down, his arm twisted off while he howled in agony.

“They’ve already drawn too much attention.” Demetri muttered, eyes narrowed in distaste at the scene. His stare had been drawn back to you on many an occasion. There was something…different, not quite right. The feeding frenzy was clearly affecting you, your body leaning forward in a desperate attempt to get you to feed while your mind simply refused to let you move, yet you were so obviously suffering. He couldn’t fathom why you hadn’t joined them yet when your hand was clawing at your throat, like you hoped you could rip the fire out of it maybe. You were quite obviously the deer in the headlights of the group, the least experienced, the youngest, and he felt a pang of sympathy for you. Did you even know what was happening to you right now? Had you fed before? Your body knew what it wanted and what to do so why weren’t you simply following your instincts?

A body landed in front of you, the head caved in from another’s fist, and he heard you whimper despite the distance. It made his stomach twist, brows furrowing deeply as a strange sort of longing to go to you arose in him. He was beaten to it by the ringleader, the man obviously in charge of it all with much more control and experience. He watched him crouch before you, the way you recoiled setting a fire in his gut that urged him to move move move.

“You…you’re confusing.” He admitted, head tilting as he regarded you. Demetri’s lip curled upward, body tense. What if the ringleader moved before he could get to you? You were hardly a soldier, not a fighter at all; you were curled up in the corner afraid of your own shadow, they didn’t have a place for people like you in a newborn army.

“W-what did you…d-do to me?” you rasped, your throat dry and on fire. Demetri heard the pain it caused you to so much as talk. To think of the amount of pain breathing must have caused you…

“I told you already there’s a way to make it better…we’ll find you someone to drink.” The ringleader promised, glancing over his shoulder. His eyes were alight with fury, a cold kind of anger radiating from him when he saw the state of the place. Fires were springing up now, the dangerous proximity of the flames making him cringe. You immediately scuttled away from the scene and Demetri was moving before any of the others could stop him. Maybe his gift was going haywire, but your tenor had to be the brightest, most beautiful thing he had ever come across, and it had a life of it’s own. Usually the tenors were cold, something he could manipulate at will in his mind, but yours? Yours was warm and vibrant and instead of him doing the pulling it was you pulling him. Following you was instinctual, as easy as breathing.

He’d never seen a vampire trip over their own feet before.

You were like a little rabbit, skittish and terrified. Your senses told you you were being followed but you hadn’t seen your pursuer yet, though you were almost sure it was Riley coming to drag you back to that awful house you’d woken up in. It wasn’t even a home really, the rotting foundations of a cabin long since destroyed was not your old, cosy apartment. Could you even go back there? You weren’t sure anymore. Even as far from the main high street as you were now it was so loud, every sound crystal clear and the few lights so bright it should have hurt your eyes.

The smell of salt was overpowering at the docks, the waves crashing against the pier and something electric in the air that sizzled on your tongue but did nothing to soothe the burn in your throat. Once your knees had hit the floor, jeans tearing in a way your skin no longer could, you had scrambled behind the cold, metallic wall of a dry dock. Hands pressed to your ears, you prayed for this nightmare to come to an end.

“Oh young one…there is no need to suffer.” His voice was as smooth and sweet as honey, spreading warm and thick through your body from the moment it hit your ears and relaxing some very tense muscles. Still, you didn’t know this stranger and all vampires were made to be charming, weren’t they? Look at Riley…he’d stolen your life with a single sentence. The person before you was a man though, not a boy. His features were far more refined, sharp angles that could cut glass and a piercing, knowing stare behind eyes the colour of red wine. He was crouched before you, head somewhat tilted so his throat was exposed enough that should you swipe a hand out, you could easily decapitate him. It was almost like he was submitting to you, trying to show he was no threat.

Demetri couldn’t stand to see you so torn apart by pain and fear. His heart was physically tearing in to, unable to beat yet breaking in his chest. Your wide eyes were pure black, the pupil practically invisible and swallowed by your hunger. He could only imagine how bad the burn must be by now. The moment you had locked eyes with him though it was very obvious to a man of his age and experience exactly why he had followed you, why your tenor was so irresistible to him. The world settled. Hell, it might have crashed and burned around him but he wouldn’t have noticed, not when you were looking at him like that. He had craved many things before in life, lusting for blood and flesh and all the luxuries his immortality could offer, but he had never felt a craving quite as intense as the desire he felt simply to ease your pain. It was everything to him in that moment.

You winced, the sound lancing straight through his ears and making him frown sympathetically. Despite your pain you were still dangerous. Newborn’s acted more often than not on impulses and animalistic urges. He would have to be careful with you.

“I-it burns, th-there’s s-something in – in my throat.” You gasped, hunching over a little. Demetri nodded his head.

“I expect it does. Do you know what is happening to you right now?” he asked. You swallowed, as if that would help. Your hands moved up into your hair, gripping at the roots like they were a lifeline as you curled up even tighter.

“I don’t – he said – I can’t think!” you seemed to surprise yourself when you hissed and Demetri felt the ache in his chest intensify. Your distress was palpable to him and his fingers twitched, his desire to reach out and hold you to him intense.

Mate. Mate. Mine. Protect what’s mine.

“No need to think cara mia, let me do the thinking for both of us.” he suggested, sniffing at the air and listening past the crashing waves to try to find you someone, anyone, to drink from. His nose caught it first, the sweet scent of blood rushing through human veins, and then it was his ears. Laughter erupted somewhere just North-West of your position, and even if the location wasn’t precise it would be enough to get you fed, calm you somewhat.

With an audible thunk your head hit the wall behind you, denting it slightly. Your eyes were so hopeless when they met his own he was sure you would cry if you could, your mouth twisted into the ugliest pained grimace he never wished to see on your face again.

“It won’t stop.” You whispered. You sounded so tortured. Demetri knew the feeling well enough, he had been a newborn once to and the thirst was intense, unbearable, enough to drive a person insane. He shook his head, extending a hand to you.

“It can stop, and it will if you trust me. I can make the pain go away.” He promised. He kept his voice soft, hoping not to scare you further, but you still eyed his hand like it was a trap waiting to be sprung. Gulping, your hand trembled as if it wanted to reach out, and Demetri prayed you’d take it, that you’d see he had no ill intentions. He really did just want to help. On some level you knew that. His eyes weren’t like Riley’s. Riley’s were as hard and cold as rough-cut rubies but this man…this man had eyes like rose blossoms, gentle and tender as they watched you suffer, like he really did wish to just take your pain away. His hand hadn’t wavered and neither did his patience despite your indecision. You wanted to reach out, your hand itching to do so, but you couldn’t escape the lingering feeling of hesitation. The last time you trusted a stranger you had literally died after all.

“He promised the s-same thing.” Your breathing hitched as another river of fire shot down your throat and twisted your gut. You were starving, so very hungry, but you weren’t sure how to stop the pain. How were you ever going to eat anything when you had the world’s worst acid reflux right now? The man in front of you looked pained for a moment, as if your words had truly hurt him. How could you ever question his intentions towards you when he was so different to Riley? This man radiated an aura of safety, of calm. It was a relief just being near him after the mayhem in your life you had experience from the moment you awoke with a freckled, red-headed boy staring down at you with a sneer. You weren’t sure who he was but you’d knocked him away from you so hard he’d smashed through a wall – Riley had twisted his head off with ease when the boy lunged to attack you in revenge.

Your new life had been nothing but death and agony since you opened your eyes, but this man was different. He was a breath of fresh air, a promise of something better. He brought some calm to your turbulent thoughts.

“I am not him,” he said finally, “Breathe in for me, tell me what you smell.” His instruction was simple and would do you no harm, so you obeyed. The salt stung your nose but filtered in between the bitter and the fish was something far sweeter. You mouth pooled with what you thought was salvia, body tensing as you dragged in another lungful of that scent. It had saturated the air back at the car wreckage to but you’d never quite pinpointed where it was from, only that it made you ravenous and delirious with need.

“What – what is that?” you gasped, eyes opened wide while you inhaled like an addict getting their fix.

“Do not torture yourself now, the more you breathe the more it will burn. That is food cara mia, sustenance. It will put out the fire in your throat. I want to take you to it.” He coaxed you from against the wall like he was luring a wild beast out of its cage, his movements slow and cautious, non-threatening. You let him this time. The smell was too good, impossible to resist. You had to have it and he was promising to give it to you. Besides, you were apparently super-strong, you could fight him for it, right? No, no maybe not, the thought made you uncomfortable, you didn’t want to hurt this kind stranger. His hand was warm against your own, the skin smooth as silk and sending a jolt through your body. You didn’t want to let go of him ever. In the time it had taken you to blink you were on another side of the dock, your saviour stood behind you now with his hands on your shoulders.

“What-“

“Shhh, breathe in again and follow your nose,” He instructed, lips dangerously close to the shell of your ear. You wanted to follow the order but his breath was as fresh and warm as sweet mint, ghosting across your skin and making you shiver involuntarily. He chuckled against your hair, low and wistful. “Let nothing distract you, not even me.” He whispered. You had unconsciously leaned back into his touch and you missed him immediately when he stepped back just a little to give you some room to think. Breathe. He’d asked you to breathe. Inhaling deeply through your nose, you caught that intoxicating scent once more. It was a heady smell, befuddling all your thoughts, and your body moved to follow it without question. You needed more. You were somewhat aware of the stranger following you, his footsteps slow and casual in comparison to your own that were hurried, impatient to find the source of the smell. You didn’t understand when you turned a corner and found yourself on the main high street, immediately blinded by the streetlights’ glaring at you from every direction and assaulted by the thudding bass and buzzing chatter from all around. You fell back into the shadows with a wince, cringing into the brick work of an old pizzeria.

“I don’t understand, I – there’s nothing here.” You groaned. Your throat was trying to tear itself apart. The stranger peered out of the alleyway for a brief moment, hummed thoughtfully and drew up his hood. His face was even more beautiful like that, shrouded in darkness while the amber glow of the streetlights’ simply made the shadows of his cheekbones longer.

“Be patient, there is time enough to learn.” He promised you, and with that he was gone. Your jaw dropped open, unable to fully comprehend that he had just…left you there. Why? Had you done something wrong? What if…oh no, what if he’d led you straight back to Riley? Maybe he worked for her. You whimpered softly, not wanting to know what was going to happen next when he reappeared without warning. A woman lay unconscious on the floor near his feet, and he held a young man out towards you by the back of his shirt, body dangling limply. Your eyes widened.

“What are – what…what…” you couldn’t get your sentence out properly, the sweet smell invading your nose once more. Demetri knew the second he lost you to the frenzy in your mind. Your eyes were no longer trained on him, no longer filled with horror at what he’d done, but laser-focused on the pulse point that was no doubt thrumming in your ears by now. You watched him not as a threat to your safety but as a threat to your food, and Demetri simply tossed you the man like a lion tamer would throw the predator a steak before stepping back a bit. The mess was to be expected and only confirmed his suspicions that this was your first feed. Your teeth didn’t quite cut at the right angle nor at the right point, but you made sure not to waste anything, readjusting your bite to ensure the burst vein spouted the saccharine liquid into your mouth and not past your cheek.

His own desire to feed grew stronger as he watched you indulge but he forced the feeling back. He had to focus on you for now. Your grip was far too tight on your prey and he heard the bones snap before the man folded like a ragdoll, his spine shattered under the force of your fingers as his flesh grew pallid, the colour drained straight from it. The sound of your frantic gulps slowly died away, and when his veins ran dry you let him drop with such utter disgust on your face Demetri couldn’t help but chuckle. Your head snapped first one way, then the next, your thirst not satiated enough to allow you to focus on him for too long when there was another living, breathing human in the alleyway with you both. He inclined his head towards her and you edged forward, wary of him now.

“She is for you, go ahead.” He invited. For a moment longer you stared him down, trying to figure him out, and Demetri admired you fully. Half-crouched, Y/H/C hair in wild disarray around your face, you looked dangerous but oh so tempting, the predator in him itching to pin you down just to see what you might do. Your skin was flawless, glowing in the half-light cast from the streetlights’ beyond the alleyway, but you were covered in blood to. To anyone looking in you might have been the ghost of a murder victim perhaps, flawlessly encased in immortality and violence. The crimson liquid had soaked your shirt, your skin stained with it and lips a more vivid shade of ruby red than even Heidi’s extensive array of lipstick’s could have achieved. He was enraptured with you from the very start as you fell on your second victim of the night. He gave the man a quick once over, listening for a heartbeat just to be sure. When he found nothing, he removed any sort of valuables or possessions that might identify the corpse and threw them into the dumpster to his right, waiting patiently to do the same to the woman you were currently entertaining yourself with.

Part of him had expected the comedown after the euphoric high of your first feed, but another part of him had hoped you would be alright. Still, as you simply held the broken body in your arms, the quiet sense of horror that dawned in your eyes was enough to make Demetri move to intervene. You gripped her tighter, not wanting to let the body go, and he gently had to pry your fingers from her bruised skin.

“We – we have to…I didn’t mean…it was…” you struggled, eyes vividly red now as they stared into his own with so much guilt and grief it shattered his resolve for a moment.

“Would you like to close her eyes?” he asked. You nodded mutely, hand trembling slightly as you reached up and gently slid the delicate skin over glassy, vacant irises. It seemed to give you some small semblance of peace at least. “Does your throat still burn?” he asked. Swallowing thickly, you shook your head. Demetri nodded, satisfied he had looked after you well enough tonight. “Good. I will ensure these two are…buried…somewhere nice. Will you wait for me here? I promise you I will explain everything in full, help you understand what is happening right now.” He vowed, his free hand gently touching your messy chin while he hoisted the dead over his shoulder with the other. You gave another numb nod, because where were you supposed to go? You were a murderer now, a…vampire. You really hadn’t believed Riley when he told you, you realised now as the shock set in. The deaths of those two just to feed you…you should have been sobbing perhaps, on your knees and praying for penance maybe, but you just…couldn’t. It felt so good to finally be free of that agonising burn, the taste had been sublime, euphoric even, and you couldn’t regret it even though part of you knew you should. Still, it didn’t change the fact two people had lost their lives and the evidence was all over you.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there alone, silently longing for your newfound friend to come back and tell you what to do next while you stared at the blood drying on your hands and shirt. It was an odd feeling, to be so lost in a city you knew so well, but you truly had no idea where your place was anymore. How could you walk the streets knowing you had killed two of the people who were once so like you? Could you even go back to your apartment? You were a murderer, there’d be investigations and…what if you ate your landlord? You winced a bit at the thought, the old woman was too kind for that kind of fate.

“What is wrong with me?” you whispered.

“Nothing is wrong with you at all cara mia, you are perfection in every way.” The smooth voice you had longed for returned and you grimaced as you faced him.

“But I killed someone.” You protested.

“As have I, and many others like us,” Demetri pointed out neutrally. You looked distressed again and he stepped forward to place a hand at the small of your waist. “Come, this conversation can wait until you have cleaned yourself up. We have a-“

“I want to go home.” You squeezed your eyes closed and Demetri evaluated you for a moment, trying to gauge whether or not you could handle a trip home.

“Do you live alone?” he asked.

“No, well, yes, but –“

“Focus, young one, the question was simple, do you live alone?” he repeated gently. Your head was a mess, he could almost hear the gears of your mind turning. Few people mentioned how hard it was to adapt to the new speeds your mind worked at when you were turned, but Demetri understood your thoughts were spinning one to the next in a rapid cycle that made it easy to distract you.

“Yes.” You said finally. He nodded his head, satisfied with the answer.

“Then lead the way.” He gestured for you to go first, following close behind as you instinctually led him through the streets. Home would be familiar, comforting, he just hoped it wouldn’t be too much of a test for you to get some new clothes and a shower. You were utterly silent, lost in your own head and almost entirely unresponsive to any of his questions as you led him at an inhuman speed down the street. It was late enough and you were moving so fast he doubted anyone would notice the pair of you so he let it happen, but you didn’t seem to be aware of the speed you were moving at either. Demetri was slowly compiling a mental checklist of all the things he’d have to teach you and get you used to. He had only gleaned one key piece of information from you by the time you reached your apartment, and he’d been replaying it over and over in his mind ever since. Your name was Y/N, and you considered it a small miracle that the keys to your apartment were still in your pocket.

The stairwell lights were loud and bright, and by the time you’d put your key in the door you were desperate to be out of the highly stimulating environment, letting your new friend in. He’d told you his name now to, and you were enamoured with everything about him now, the package complete with a nice little bow. Demetri looked confused by the scratching sound for a moment before Sulu burst around the corner of your sofa and darted straight for your legs. His excited little yips were so loud in your sensitive ear’s, but he was familiar and comforting, he was home. Demetri stopped you before you could scoop up the little beagle puppy. You looked confused and he smiled apologetically.

“I think you have no concept of just how fast or strong you are right now Y/N…if you carried on going just now you might have put your hand right through him,” he informed you quietly. You winced, making a conscious effort to go slow as you reached down to pet him instead. Demetri watched you take extra care to stroke your hand over his fur, seemingly losing yourself in the smooth texture for a moment. It calmed you, he realised.

“Hey boy, I’m home. I’m sorry I was gone so long, are you hungry boy?” you whispered. Demetri watched you go through a careful routine of mixing dry and wet food, placing his small bowl on the floor. He crunched it like a dog half starved and Demetri wondered just how long you’d been gone.

“Go and shower. I can watch the dog.” He promised. He sat on the sofa, watching the little pup playfully eat his way around the bowl while the water ran behind him. Every now and then he heard you sigh softly. The dog looked quite content with a full stomach, pattering about his home confidently until he came to Demetri. Animals didn’t typically like vampires so to speak, but the pup was perhaps too young to have sensed anything out of the ordinary and came straight up to him, head tilting as he snuffled about his trouser legs. Demetri frowned, trying to shoo him away slightly, but the pup merely thought he wanted to play, tail starting to wag as he lowered his front to the floor and lunged for his hand with an excited little yip.

You hadn’t been expecting Demetri to be having a tug of war with your dog when you stepped out of the shower, a fresh change of clothes on and your hair wet but still, no matter how much you’d frisked it with a towel, flawless. Vampirism had some perks at least. Sulu growled playfully, tugging with all his might, and Demetri growled back, a wicked grin on his face as he held the toy still with minimal effort. Your eyebrows rose.

“Are you that determined to beat a puppy?” you asked finally. Demetri glanced at you, brows furrowing slightly before he nodded and pulled Sulu in closer, his claws scratching against the wood. You winced at the sound but felt your heart melt a bit when he scooped him up with a chuckle and scratched at his tummy.

“You put up a good fight boy, but I am better.” He murmured. Good with animals and gorgeous? Was there anything this man couldn’t do? You sat beside him, wary when Sulu immediately padded over to your lap. You’d found him abandoned on a street corner in a box with a few siblings and immediately taken them all to the nearest vet, the costs be damned. They’d managed to rehome two of the five in the box, one of them being your Sulu, but you’d never heard what happened to the others sadly. He was cuddly from the get-go, desperate for contact apparently after his abandonment, and so far he had been fairly easy to train. You didn’t want to hurt your baby boy and Demetri seemed to sense it, watching you awkwardly hold your hands above his small body while Sulu tried to nudge his head into your palm.

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“You won’t if you are gentle enough,” Demetri promised you, “Very gentle now.” You managed to settle into a rhythm as Demetri spoke, explaining exactly what had happened to you that night. There were times you couldn’t quite keep the outbursts in, your frustration bursting through. Why you? You had a good life! You tried to be good and kind and had dreams and it wasn’t fair that Riley had chosen you that night. Sulu skittered form your lap into Demetri’s in those moments, but the man never held them against you, simply letting you rant and nodding along sympathetically while he explained the laws, the Volturi. You shivered, knowing deep down if he hadn’t decided to help you he would have been your executioner instead of your friend.

“So what now? I…” Don’t want to leave you. It was on the tip of your tongue. You felt lost, adrift on an endless sea. You had no clue how you were supposed to cope with all of this without someone more experienced showing you the way – your throat was already starting to burn again. It all seemed so hopeless when you’d been alone in the shower, everything crashing in on you and drowning you all at once, but Demetri was a lighthouse that held you steady and guided you to shore. Demetri tilted his head.

“You come home with me.” He said simply, like it made the most sense. Somehow, it did. Demetri was somewhat surprised at how willingly you simply packed up and left, pulling some emergency cash out form somewhere and leaving it in an envelope for your landlord. The only slight problem was Sulu, but he didn’t let you worry about that for long. Sulu wasn’t particularly sure about the plush carpets of the Volturi’s private jet, but he quite enjoyed running around on the tarmac while you waited for Demetri to return from his duties, whatever they may be.

“Why would you not tell her, she has a right to know.” Alec pointed out as they strolled back across the grass languidly. Demetri hummed.

“She does, but right now she is overwhelmed, she needs a chance to settle before I tell her of our bond. In the meantime, it will not stop me caring for her as I should. Please, all of you, be kind, you know how hard this first year can be.” He sighed, looking almost imploringly at the twins. He knew he could trust Felix with you (mostly, maybe…okay he’d have to keep any eye on that situation) but the twins were a little more…unpredictable. Jane rolled her eyes slightly.

“You say that as though we intend to sabotage your happiness.” she quipped, but her voice was as dead as the grave. Demetri saw through it; he had known them long enough. Apathy was the twins go to but it always conveyed something more if you bothered to look beyond the surface. He gave her a grateful smile and she diligently ignored it, but the unspoken agreement had already been made that they would stand by their friend when they reached Volterra.

“Oh there is one more thing.” Demetri started. He never got chance to finish his sentence before Alec opened the door to the jet. The smell of blood hit them instantly and Sulu bolted straight for Demetri, recognising his scent and excited to see him home. You were stood amongst the ruins, looking a little bashful and covered in blood once more. The pilot was at your feet, contorted and drained.

“Oops?”

Sulu had left little bloody paw prints in his wake but had quickly scrambled back towards you once he’d bumped into Alec’s threatening aura. The boy turned to look at the tracker, his expression devoid of emotion but his eyes alight with mischief.

“I cannot wait to see the look on Caius’s face when we get home.”

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #demetri volturi #demetri volturi x reader #volturi #felix volturi #jane volturi #alec volturi #x reader #newborn mate #poor reader is so confused #sulu to the rescue

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baobaojng · 4 years

Text

when icarus falls (jung jaehyun) - act two (final)

when icarus falls - act one, half time interval, act two

jung yoonoh (jaehyun) x reader - college athlete!au , crush!au

themes: angst, fluff, (super tiny tiny tiny implied smut)

reminders: YOU HAVE TO READ THE HALF TIME INTERVAL BEFORE YOU PROCEED TO THIS PART!!

summary: some tragic story of you sharing one class with your long time college crush jaehyun who never notices you until he accidentally reads your work and he gets curious— oh, and he uses lame excuses to get to talk to you.

note: AAAAA here we finally are! thank you so much for the kind words and the support y’all gave during the entire process of this fic, i’m so grateful! hope to see you guys read my fics in the future! from here, this has been ‘when icarus falls,’ thank you.

wordcount: 15,375

Chittaphon and Doyoung did not ask any questions when you asked them to drive you home, but since you spilt your own feelings to them - they already knew that something bad happened between you and Jaehyun. You were silently holding sobs in the backseat, not even wanting to make any semblance of a sniffle, but it caused more pain to your windpipe that felt like it was swelling. When they reached your apartment an hour and a half later you immediately got out the car, wanting to vomit on the sidewalk. Although you knew that what had happened with Jaehyun punched the sobriety back into your senses, your body seemed to protest otherwise.

“I’m so fucked.” You managed to say in between breaths, your mouth tasted like acid. You hated yourself for ever drinking and for ever setting foot in that place, your two friends worried behind you - Chittaphon having to pull your hair back. And then you cried in full volume, like putting yourself on mute pented up even more of your emotions. They didn’t know how to respond, but you couldn’t blame them for that. There was always an assumption that they would never really understand you even if you told them how you felt, and they really wouldn’t. In fact, at this point, not a soul could understand what you felt for Jung Jaehyun.

They don’t walk you inside your apartment; you assured them that despite your puffed up face and the strained feeling of your throat that you could make it to bed safely. It did not feel like the right time to be coddled by your friends. You just wanted to be alone.

Buzzing sounds were coming from your phone, and Jaehyun’s contact photo was flashing across the screen. Your eyes squinted at the light, but it hurt more knowing that he was trying.

Jaehyunnie: let’s talk (3:04am)

Even in text, it seems, you’ve rubbed off of each other; he even typed the way you did already.

Jaehyunnie: please (3:05am)

Jaehyunnie: just answer me, please (3:05am)

Jaehyunnie: y/n please (3:06am)

Tears dripped out of your eyes continuously, it was going to be hard trying to fall asleep.

Jung Jaehyun’s number was officially blocked on your phone. For hours you tried convincing yourself that this seriously wasn’t chickening out - this was more about you knowing that there wasn’t going to be good conversation about what had happened, plus your ego would not want to be compromised by immediately jumping at his request of talking. Your emotions needed to mature a little bit more, and until when you didn’t know. Space was needed and even more so the time for you to really think things over. For once you did not allow yourself to point fingers at the alcohol or the circumstances of that night; it was meant to happen then anyway. The world was cruel in so many different senses that it reminded you that you couldn’t uphold the friendship you established with Jaehyun. It had to end the same way it started: where your world crashed down around the idea of your feelings for him.

When Monday rolled around, it took a lot of guts deciding whether or not you were going to end up going to your Literature class, but you painfully forced Chittaphon to vacate his seat next to Jaehyun and sit next to you - afraid that you would have no form of protection if Jaehyun were to try and approach you in class.

“You’re about to drill a hole through the floor with your foot if you keep on thumping it up and down like that.” Chittaphon commented, all while you didn’t notice how nervous your body was reacting.

“Drill a hole through my head, won’t you? I seriously don’t want to be here.” You agonized in your seat, covered in about three layers of clothing in an effort to make yourself believe that it would be a good disguise against Jaehyun. Maybe, just maybe, he would flat out forget you existed if he could not see you in the mounds of sweaters you tried to concoct this morning. It was some delusion wanting for him to not notice you and for you to run away from this with no feelings at all.

Chittaphon seemed a little sad for you, the downwards slope his lips were going to was enough of a sign anyway. “Cheer up, won’t you? If he did the wrong thing at the wrong time and you know you were wronged somehow, shouldn’t he be the one to suffer like this? It’s really Jaehyun’s loss, not your’s.”

The comment was a little too soon to make, especially when Brianna Chang wrapped herself around Jung Jaehyun’s arm like jewelry as they walked in Literature at the same time. She sat down where Chittaphon normally sat, and Jaehyun didn’t seem like he even noticed that his friend wasn’t sitting there. She did not even take this class, but to be fair it wasn’t even twenty minutes till the class started.

Suddenly you regretted the layers of clothing you wore; they felt like a boiling prison chamber.

When Brianna Chang (very loudly) laughed at something Jaehyun had said and placed her hand on his forearm, it sent an echoing pang into your chest. So this is what it felt like looking at him from afar, lest you forget where you were before the two of you had become close. This is how it felt like seeing him not care about everybody else because he could hang out with whomever he wanted despite the dirty looks thrown his way. Quite literally, this is how it felt like taking the backseat. And when Brianna Chang left five minutes before the professor’s arrival, Jaehyun walking her to the door, his eyes searched for yours. Only a split second of surrender occurred until you stripped yourself away from his gaze; you weren’t playing this game.

Jaehyun looked like he didn’t care anyway, and it hurt more to know that he just looked at you and walked back to his seat. You expected him to carry on his efforts at trying to talk to you, but you should have known that he wasn’t one to prolong things.

This was foul two, the first he committed that night on the beach.

Maybe you were just that disposable.

You finally decided to answer Chitapphon who looked just as puzzled as how you felt. Unfortunate how he was debunked so quickly. “You were saying?”

Dinner became an issue you thought you would never think about. It seemed that you’ve grown so used to having Jaehyun ask you to dinner everyday, him waiting for you by the tree you claimed in the quad. Now it was just straight walks back to your apartment alone, not realizing you needed the evening sustenance until your stomach started growling while you were trying your best to distract yourself with all the reading requirements you were digesting in advance. Maybe it was metaphorical for how you were trying to avoid Jaehyun, you could only go in for so long before realizing how much you needed him now. The harder you tried to avoid him physically, everything else would remind you that you couldn’t forget him or dodge the idea of him. It was diabolical how you were so used to this routine before you became friends with Jaehyun, only for it to be hijacked now because you built most of your time around him.

A video call request from Lisa chimed in, you suddenly had to dig through the multiple pages of books that buried your phone. Right, there was a mixer she was trying to invite you to but you declined. You answered her call anyway.

“Hey.” You spoke to the pixelated mess on your phone the audio already chiming in, mashed up sounds of music and other people.

“Y/N! Are you sure you aren’t free tonight?” She said, the lighting over on her side a little bit weird, but the signal came in better and you could see her clearly.

You switched your camera to show her your table, “yeah I’m sure, I have to write about Persephone tonight.”

“Oh, I thought Jaehyun would be keeping you preoccupied.” You loved your friend but you did not have half the heart to admit to her what happened, you knew she’d find a way to try to get you to talk to him and you were not yet capable of doing that.

“Nope, just me.” You reminded her, switching back to front camera.

“Yeah actually never mind,” Lisa said, this confusing you. She quickly switched her camera this time and zoomed in to someone. “Jaehyun’s right here partying too!” She remarked, and now you could make out the figure she was trying to capture on camera.

It was Brianna, her perfectly colored hair indicating it was her, and Jaehyun dancing on each other among a small crowd.

Suddenly, you did not want to eat. You had no appetite at all.

Foul three.

It was quite odd for Johnny Seo and Mark Lee to ask you to hang out with them after class. Not that they were difficult to be around, they were actually really fun guys - except you never really got super close with them. They were probably the closest ones to Jaehyun if you were to make estimates.

“I made a class outline for you so you wouldn’t pass up on getting some chow with us at the very last minute.” Johnny handed you a neatly written reviewer; he probably took some of the same units during his pre-law.

“And I’m here too so you probably can’t resist me and my fun charms.” Mark announced.

You could very easily try and pretend to match their energy, but you would be lying if you did and that on its own wasn’t fair. It was half true that you would pass up on hanging out with them (also because Johnny was one of the key people during the beach party), but only because they reminded you so much of Jaehyun— too much of him to rub off on every single thing and make your mind go back to him.

So you just smile and take the outlined paper and nod along, silently telling them that you were down to go wherever they wanted to.

Now, their idea of a fun time was to go to an Ikea to have food and look at furniture. You didn’t expect it from two goofballs who seemed to probably have zero knowledge on home care, but they proved you wrong.

There was no real idea when they asked you to hang out with them; you originally thought that when they walked up to you, they’d immediately allude to wanting to know about why you and Jaehyun weren’t hanging out as much and why you didn’t go to their practice for the past two sessions. Chittaphon and Doyoung had promised that they wouldn’t tell any other soul about the incident at the beach, and of course anything related to the feelings your harbored for their team captain. Instead they just went up to you out of the blue and told you they wanted to go out.

It would have been way too optimistic for you to expect that they wouldn’t brush on the topic either.

“So,” Mark said with a mouthful of meatballs, “why don’t we see you around much?” He asks cautiously.

“What do you mean? We see each other in school all the time though.” You try to be passive about it, because you very much know what he is hinting at.

“Why don’t we see you around much with Jaehyun then.” Johnny clarifies, and you nod once as you put away the drink you were holding.

The expression on your face is blank, and you realize now that you’ve mastered using it to really avoid how you felt inside. “You two really have no clue, do you?”

A ‘pft’ sound escapes Johnny’s lips, “of course we know something, but it would only be fair if we asked you. Especially when Jaehyun’s been whoring around trying to fool himself into believing he likes what he’s doing.”

“Let’s all just let him be. Besides, I’m sure there’s a reason for what he’s doing and maybe we think he’s unhappy because we don’t like his choices. If we all regard him the way we really do, then we should respect him and whatever he does, right? I’m respecting him by keeping my distance.” You shrug, maybe you had to leave it alone; you had no fighting chance.

“Don’t you think it’s worth trying getting through to him though?” Mark asked you with hopeful eyes.

Your nose crunched into different creases, “see, I blew him off way too many times for that to be possible. I don’t think he’ll want me to talk to him anymore either.” No, you wanted to talk to him for sure. You were just so scared of being confronted with the truth: you crossed lines that should not have been crossed. “Besides, it’s enough that I’ve liked him for as long as I have. And way too much that I was the one that messed it all up too, I should leave it alone.”

“If you say so, then I won’t force it. You’re your own boss.” Johnny respectfully said in defeat.

Walking around looking for blankets, the three of you caught up on how you all were. Your mind could not pin together how they had some sort of idea of what happened - maybe Doyoung and Chittaphon did snitch on you or worse, Jaehyun could have told them something. In that case, you wouldn’t know what he had said or what he had conjured up.

It should not have surprised you when you saw Jaehyun with Brianna, him whispering something a little too close into her ear. He was holding a basketful of home items. ‘Wow,’ you thought, they were going domestic now.

You were caught stuck in your tracks upon seeing it, and thankfully Johnny was behind you so you were able to lean on someone and not fall from losing your balance.

“Out of all the damn days he could have gone to go out and out of all the damn places.” Johnny huffed under his breath, but instead you tried to set him back into a calm mood by tapping at his shoulders with your palms.

“It’s alright Johnny.” You assured as Mark kind of just stood there to awkwardly assess the situation at hand.

“I don’t think it is.” Mark spoke and you noticed that Jaehyun had spotted the three of you. It felt like the first time you ever laid eyes on him, but the great feeling didn’t last long— certainly not lasting as long enough as you would have liked.

“Hey.” Johnny stepped out to pretend to be glad to see his friend, you noticed Jaehyun trying to make his way closer to all of you with Brianne just trailing behind him.

With the basket of duvets the three of you had selected earlier, you tapped at Mark to signal him to follow you away from this running into each other incident.

Had Jung Jaehyun the nerve to ruin Ikea for you, fucking Ikea.

Foul fucking four.

Jaehyun made you sick, he was some ritual that you embedded deeper in than the dermis of your skin - every single thing reminded you of him, even if they weren’t memories you shared together. It seemed that every single thing that had attached nostalgia to it had a little bit of Jaehyun. That’s why you decided that you were willing to forego your common routine in order to avoid even the slightest idea of him. He was like salt that degraded the metal away from you; it hurt even hearing the syllables of his name.

Doyoung usually accompanied you to your trips to the common lounge in school, as you insisted that you felt uncomfortable with the idea of being alone in public in some way. He happily agreed to being your study buddy, wanting to catch up on learning from you because apparently it was easier.

There had to be some way for you to simply avoid and adjust: the measures being taken to the extreme when you figured out that maybe now you took a better liking at Mediterranean food because you never ate any with Jaehyun, you did not take walks by the same route going back to your apartment— hell, you didn’t even want to hang around your living space because everything that used to be so organized was all messed up the way Jaehyun had left them. It felt like you were evacuating the storm that he was, and it was devastating.

For a while you were able to successfully carry out this goal by snubbing him in any sense that you could. Except, you had to admit that it left a pit open in your stomach each time you saw his back during Literature. Sometimes you could tell you were shaking from the wrist to your fingertips just because he made you wary.

Your success did not last long, like any other attempt at trying to avoid him.

He committed foul five when he entered the common lounge with Brianna, seeming to hold matching paper cups of coffee - distracting you from your productivity.

Jung Jaehyun never used to step foot here in all the years you’ve liked him, and even now he was getting in the way of your routine.

Four grown men had to convince you that the only way for you to get over whatever it was you were feeling was to flat out face it and try your best not to care. ‘Try your best,’ still did imply that you did. It implied that Jung Jaehyun still had some effect on you. Although you were still trying to convince Johnny, Mark, Doyoung and Chittaphon that you were fine with ‘leaving it alone,’ they could see right through you.

“You’re beating yourself up about him.” Chittaphon warned when the four of them practically barged into your apartment one afternoon. It was an argument you couldn’t win and a situation you couldn’t convince them out of. Thankfully you were surrounded by sensitive fucks who could really feel how terrible this was affecting you— you expected them to be more indifferent, to just not want to put up with your constant passive-aggressive answers and just agree even if they knew you weren’t truly speaking what you felt.

The real reason why they came over was to tease you with an ‘open invitation’ to having a friendly group dinner, with beers if your mood allowed, because they felt like you needed a little bit more fun and to stop being so paranoid all the damn time. There was a catch though: you’d have to sit through their basketball practice. On that note, you were about to jump out of your own skin in order to tell them ‘no,’ and that you did not want to even set foot in the basketball gym. Johnny thought way ahead though, telling you that Jaehyun has been negligent with practice these days and that he wouldn’t be there.

What Johnny didn’t tell you in full detail though, was he most likely wouldn’t be there.

So that meant while you were sitting by the bleachers- eyes roaming around at the spacious gym, wondering how you could sit here before almost all the time and not feel bored out of your mind, your friends were a little panicky about Jaehyun’s possible arrival. The place smelt like it used to, if humidity had a smell in this sense it definitely would be sweaty - mixed with all the different sprays each of the guys had. They were pretty surprised you showed up too, Yukhei and Donghyuck genuinely pestering you with tight hugs as they were convinced you passed away. Good for you, they had no idea at all about the context.

It felt like you were revisiting a dream: a little unreal, and a little melancholy. Never expecting you’d find yourself here.

Even the time you spent apart from Jaehyun felt longer than the time you spent almost everyday with him. Sadness could do that.

Foul six was even worse, when Jaehyun came in with Brianna again - smiling like he always did when he was with her. Your mind trying to recall if he ever smiled at you as much, or if he smiled at you as brightly.

He looked at you for three seconds, you could count with how slow your heart beat. But when he did see you, he lost his smile and he looked away.

Needless to say, you requested so many beers when your four friends took you to dinner— Johnny footing most of the bill.

It was a Monday when it happened, you were walking out of class alone (this time you were the one to want to try and savor the feeling of familiarizing yourself with yourself again, after what had happened in the gym and after another terrible hangover - you figured that maybe it was yourself that you were missing.) You thought that maybe it was time to breathe deeper and try different things out, although it still hurt you that Jaehyun seemed to be doing much much better at recovering than you did.

Well, who’s to say there was anything to recover from, right?

“This is one of the last requirements you’ll ever submit in this class. No, it isn’t in usual analytic format— rather, I want all of you to write up how you feel like you can related to Icarus in the myth of Daedalus and Icarus. Deadline is in two weeks.” You professor had announced right before you were dismissed, you simply took a note in your phone about it and waited for everybody else to exit so you could steer clear of walking with groups of friends that would obviously make you feel uncomfortable.

You were just about to walk out of Literature when you stopped in your tracks to notice that Chittaphon and Johnny were cornering Jaehyun outside the lecture hall. Morally, if you had any in tact for the sake of yourself, you would have gone and ducked your head down and brisk walked the hell away from there. Though, right now, you did not even have the guts to walk past them. So you decided to stand where you were behind the big doors and hide. Yes, eavesdropping was a terrible idea but you couldn’t help but wonder why the two were cornering the team captain; they very clearly discussed their dismay towards his insensitivities toward you and his negligence towards the team lately, but they knew much better than to ask for some confrontation. Besides, you’ve never seen them hold serious faces like that. Not ever.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny said deeply, he wasn’t speaking in the manner of a team member or a classmate, but more as a friend, “what the hell’s going on with you?”

You don’t see Jaehyun shrug, but you can hear the dismay in Chittaphon’s whine when there is no vocal noise that expressed Jaehyun’s answer.

“You said you were willing to talk to us! Can you at least give us a little more than that? You’ve been shrugging and giving one worded answers these days and it’s really getting on everyone’s nerves.” Johnny demanded.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong at all.” Then there it is. Jung Jaehyun finally speaks, but you think that as you hear his voice - you’ve missed this voice so much - that it does not sound like him. Technically, it does, but it does not feel the way he really speaks. Jung Jaehyun used to speak in a way that even the way his voice vibrated at the bottom of his tongue, you could feel every pronounced expression that he was trying to put out. This Jung Jaehyun sounded flat, dense, as if his words were thrown around in a void. It felt cold.

“Seriously? You’re going to keep acting this way? Isn’t anything important to you right now?” Johnny raised his voice, you could tell the answers he was getting frustrated him.

“What? I can’t go around and have some time for myself now? Is that not unfair Johnny?” To no avail it seemed, it was even more challenging that Jung Jaehyun kept his monotone voice.

“I’m not saying that it’s wrong for you to take some time off but this isn’t you Jaehyun. Bigger games are around the corner! And what? You’ve been disregarding Y/N’s existence like she didn’t even mean anything to you? It’s fucking bullshit.” The tallest exhausted, and you couldn’t help but feel cramped up in a tight spot when he mentioned you.

“What do you want me to say? That she matters? I think I’ve done more than make it clear at this point, Johnny. If she doesn’t want me to matter, I’m done. She doesn’t matter.” Fuck, that hurt.

With hot tears dripping on your cheeks, you walk out of where you were standing. To this, Johnny’s eyes go wide and Chittaphon tries to reach out and console you. But Jaehyun’s face is something else; it crumbles and it falters down to the realization that you had heard everything.

It feels like you are retracing your steps on the beach when you walk away.

“Y/N! Wait!” Like how he sounded before, it was ringing. How his voice claimed the ceiling of the hall. He was chasing after you this time, and he was getting closer faster.

You have guts this time, even if you know you look like hell. Turning around you face him, “I don’t matter, right?”

His brows furrow in distress. “It isn’t like that.” Oh, but to you it was.

“I know what I heard,” you exhale a deep breath, “just leave me alone Jung Jaehyun.” You shrug him off, but he grasps onto your forearm.

“Can you just please listen to me for once and not run away?” There’s a lump on your throat you can’t swallow, but you stand where you are and you nod slowly. It hurts that you want to hear him out.

“What else is left to say?” You try to exhale deeply, even through ragged breaths you were taking in.

Jaehyun drops all his things on the floor, despite the deep loud sound of them falling, there is no commotion made. Only now warm lights of the campus are turned on because it is late, it is quiet, and your knees are about to clump in together to freak you out. But he breaks you even more when he pulls out some stapled sheets out of what he was attempting to rummage along his items. At first you don’t recognize the thing he is holding; it looks worn out with many creases and dog ears at the sides and you wonder what is it in his hands— but then you recognize the detail in spacing: it was your paper. Somehow it made sense now why it had gone missing right before you were to show it to Doyoung, and how Jung Jaehyun couldn’t get off your hair.

“I’ve always had this,” he tries to explain even with all the layers of hesitation, “except I never got around to explain it to you.”

You are caught in a trap, and you cannot respond. Only with silence and your teeth pressing against each other in anticipating agony.

“These words have kept me drawn to you. I think I’ve gone out of my way so many times to make these words come to life. And those months being friends with you I just can’t help but feel like I haven’t completed what I was supposed to. I just can’t explain why, but I don’t regret reacting how I did on that beach.” Jung Jaehyun is still unimaginably confident as he tells you this.

But you tear up even more, “that’s where you’re wrong.” The voice in your throat croaks and falters.

“How can you say that?” He asks as if he is hurt, which is a very big leap from how he had sounded when he talked to Johnny. You take a very deep breath.

“Because I’m not a fucking charity case, Jung Jaehyun. What you feel isn’t real if that’s all that’s kept you with me for these past few months. You just confuse your pity for an entirely different thing, but you should know that I never needed you help.” You cannot look him in the eye as you look for anything else to distract you: the floor, your heartbeat, the edges of your worn out Converse. “It just sucks that I know I’ll love you even if you think of me that way.” It feels like your throat was choking up on its own, suddenly you wished you were swallowing the words you had uttered.

Jung Jaehyun doesn’t answer you, and he looks like he cannot, not when his eyes were wide as they were - and the rest of his expressions just glitch onto you.

Then you walk away with salty tears fitting themselves into the crevices of your lips as you try your best not to let him or Johnny or Chittaphon to run after you. There was already enough running.

Perhaps you expected way too much of Jung Jaehyun to have the tiniest hope to even believe that he would get out of his way to try harder to talk to you, because he was doing the exact opposite of that. It seemed he had traded you in, in exchange for the life he had before the two of you were friends. Although it was a little odd to see him divulge back into a lifestyle he swore he hated, it never dawned to you how much it suited him. Jung Jaehyun was in his natural state of a dream around everybody else, and you were burying yourself even deeper in all the aged terrible literature that would piss you off just because you wanted to distract yourself. Who were you kidding? It had only been two days, and to be honest to yourself - you weren’t really holding up great because your choice of strategy did anything but distract you; it only reminded you that you were forcing yourself to be distracted by him.

You’ve lost any avenue of focus, so you decided it would be fair to end up just not attending your classes anymore. It wasn’t like you were dropping out of class, you had a few weeks left into the semester and you could pass a lot of your requirements over e-mail - it was easier to just decide not to go and wait until Jung Jaehyun graduated.

“I heard she’s dropping out of her units.” One of the girls from the table said, Jung Jaehyun only now arriving to Brianna Chang’s lunch invitation, overhearing this. He sat next to Brianna, who was replying sadly to one of her friend’s new gossip.

“What a shame, she’s really intelligent too.” She commented, and Jung Jaehyun had to raise a brow.

“Who are we talking about?” He asks.

“Aren’t you close with her?” Brianna asks him, and he feigns any knowledge of the sort. “Y/N?” She asks again and he couldn’t believe his ears.

He pretends he doesn’t really understand the situation, “she’s dropping out?” Trying to suppress his own worry, he just keeps quiet.

For as long as Jung Jaehyun remembers, he’s always noticed you. Even before you got close to the mutual friends you two had shared, he always noticed how intelligent you were for ranking up at the top of your classes and how you never seemed interested in what a traditional college student would. Instead of taking yourself the entire way by drinking your nights out like a majority of people he knew did, you always seemed to keep things under a minimum and just go with the flow. What was even more interesting was how you were still able to say ‘yes’ to your friends’ invitations as well as study your brains out, and always attend his basketball games. To Jung Jaehyun, it sure was intriguing. He made sure he read all the paper work you submitted in class whenever you gave the teachers your permission to post them for reference sake (he heard a rumor that you were just that good to be used for reference) - and it never failed to make him even more curious. Even if he had all the chances in the world to try and introduce himself to you and get to know you because you were always around Doyoung and Chittaphon, he never wanted to force anything out of it.

During the first time your Literature professor called in for a meeting regarding the trip to Greece, he was a little bit intimidated to find out you had signed up— but it shouldn’t have surprised him because of course you would sign up, he did not have to know you well to know that he would probably find you where there was a trace of learning and extra credit or some challenge at such. He could tell how uncomfortable you were sitting next to him though, rummaging your papers all too quickly to pass in an assignment to be the first one to leave, causing you to not notice a couple of documents fly off of your compilation.

Jung Jaehyun was kind enough to pick them up to give back to you just to be, well, kind. But when he looked up to hand them back to you, you were simply gone from the room. For days he tried his best to give your papers back, and he never dared reading them. Each time he did try giving your papers back you always misread the situation, assuming he was nearing you because you were always with your mutual friends (he thought it would be easier to talk to you this way because he wouldn’t know how he could muster any courage up if he went up to you alone) and you would leave. Jung Jaehyun swore millions and millions of times in his head that no matter how long it would take to bring back your personal belongings, he would not read them. Not a single word. He did not triumph from this promise, curiosity taking over the best of him, and he ended up reading these papers. The letterhead was written for one of your classes, in perfect format he might add. Jung Jaehyun read each word as if he were digesting them, bit by bit in each space and in each phrase - he found it curious: how the almost always uptight seeming person he had always seen around school felt the way that they did. If his mind were to tell him that maybe you wrote out of compliance, he wouldn’t believe it either; it was all too perfect and all too feeling for him to say you wrote out of the sheer need to.

The most striking thing was, it made him feel lonely— or, lonelier, if that were possible. Maybe you perfectly resonated the same feelings onto him through words, and it was apparent to him that he was a bit more frustrated at the thought that he did not know how to change your mind, he did not know how to be close to you.

It was definitely out of his hands when Chittaphon arranged a night out to drink after they had won that game when Brianna Chang confessed to him in front of everybody. He recalled how he saw you in the bleachers when he was switched out during a time out called by the other team’s coach, and how he didn’t care for the ‘major’ confession he received after they had won; he was too busy wondering why you disappeared along with the crowd, because he kind of knew that you would typically stay behind a little longer not to jam yourself in with the crowd. He had thought it would mess him up for the rest of the night which made him want to drink to forget about the girl he barely knew anyway, but to his surprise you were sitting there by the haphazardly arranged set of tables just put together - and he knew that after he accompanied his friends to order by the bar counter that it was definitely his chance to sit next to you.

It was another thing to text you the next morning, him trying his best not to write the most awkward greeting - considering that he did bring you home the night before. But he thought he’d never have any other chance to get to talk to you and try to be one of your friends too, and so he just did what he could even if it meant that he would plow through his own embarrassment.

The boy kind of proved that he had balls of steel when he asked you to have dinner, having a strong feeling you would turn him down because you probably would be busy. But then you had agreed to him anyway - to him it was just an invitation to dinner, but when Doyoung was there with you and asked what the two of you were up to, Jung Jaehyun thought that maybe it wasn’t ‘just dinner’ especially since his heart was beating faster than he would have liked.

You won him over without even knowing when the two of you talked over dinner, and even more so when the two of you had walked to your apartment just so he could take a look into your work. Jung Jaehyun realized that at the very least he was interested in you, but he was sure he harbored a little bit of feelings. From there everything had just blown into proportion.

He couldn’t imagine what it would be like without grabbing dinner with you, having you sit in the bleachers doing your paperwork but also surprisingly giving him constructive advice on the sport (this was honestly just the icing on the cake), dragging you out when you least expected to - or just seeing the smile on your face whenever you’d exit your dazed expression.

Jung Jaehyun never thought he could ever easily open up to anyone as much as he could to you, it was like spreading out a velvet map over a creaseless table - all his edges seemed to fall perfectly out of his lips and into your own words. He could listen to you recite your poetry all day. He only wanted to see your face after every single practice and every single draining game. He wanted to clasp his hands around your wrist just to catch you off guard, but also only because he had no other excuse to touch you. He knew he loved you since the first time he asked you to eat Chinese food with him for dinner, and he knew he would love you even more when you were so willing to show him your collection of literature. Jung Jaehyun knew he never loved anyone the way he loved you.

Something had scared him though, the idea that he did not want to risk romance with you. To Jung Jaehyun, he always received too special treatment from females - often receiving confessions, making it easier for him to know if someone did like him or not. So in his eyes, you seemed to treat him in no more difference than the rest of your friends. Many times had he longed to bring up the possibility of something else between the two of you, but he did not want to ruin what was already there. Maybe if he didn’t risk it, the routine he built around you would stay and he wouldn’t have to deal with the idea of ever losing you. Even if it was against his own heart, he decided to try and feel something else for someone else. That’s why he had chased after Brianna.

Imagine his surprise when you had told him that you loved him, Jung Jaehyun felt like he threw up his own heart and tried swallowing it down. When he kissed you, he wanted you to kiss him back and he wanted you to keep telling him that you loved him because he so desperately wanted to tell you that he loved you too.

But you ran away, because he knew that things weren’t in the right order for you to continue. He had just told you that he was pursuing Brianna, and here he was kissing you only because you told him that you loved him.

Guilt ate away at Jung Jaehyun for the next few days. Deciding it was only ever fair now for anyone in the situation, he called anything off with Brianna before things got to serious and before he could regret anything. He waited for you to walk through the doors of the lecture hall for Advanced Literature, but you never came in. He heard people talking about your absence in annoyance, knowing that to them it only mattered that they were talking about somebody else for the sake of gossip. If you were around anyway they wouldn’t bat an eyelash at you, and here they were talking about all the different possibilities as to why the school’s academic ace wasn’t attending classes anymore. To Jung Jaehyun, he was willing to listen to hearsay if only to feed his mind and to try and reassure himself that you were probably doing fine. At least he had hoped so.

“I heard she’s transferring to a different university to take her masters in advance,” the girls behind him were talking about you, “I mean, she’s always been offered many scholarships from a lot of the good arts schools. It isn’t far from happening.” Wrong, he thought. You always swore you would get your diploma and attend your own graduation to feel the payoff of all your hard work. It wasn’t the most likely case.

“I heard she’s going somewhere for extra credit?” Another suggested, and obviously Jaehyun knew this wasn’t true either; you had every extra curricular and extra credit related thing listed down for the semester - and you never mentioned anything.

“I heard she hasn’t been going to classes because something upset her. My dad works at the hospital, and apparently she went into one of the therapy clinics in their wing. She didn’t look so good either.”

Now, this scared Jaehyun, as it was the only real possibility in his head.

He waited for class to be over to be able to talk to Chittaphon, his friend treating him with a little bit more caution since the last time you had a confrontation with Jaehyun.

“Why isn’t she coming to class anymore?” Jaehyun felt like he started breathing after holding in his breath, deciding to get straight to the point already.

To his dismay, Chittaphon could only shrug. “She hasn’t been talking to any of us, we haven’t had contact with her since— well, yeah, you should know.” This seemed even harder for him now, only realizing how difficult he made this entire situation when he could have just grown the balls to tell you that he loved you even before you did.

“Oh.” Was the only thing Jaehyun could say, staring down as he fiddled with his thumbs. He was guilty guilty guilty.

“Jaehyun, I love this reform you’re putting yourself on, but allow her to be lost. Maybe she needs it, in her own selfish way.”

Jung Jaehyun realizes over the course of the next few days that he misses you, and that nothing has really changed that. He thought that he had already known how it felt like to be so painfully in love with somebody, having been in a long term relationship that everybody had pinned for ever since he started off in college. He had remembered dating Kristen Sy mainly because it only made sense to everybody else for them to be together. There was love there, definitely. But the difference it made with loving you meant that he did not have to love somebody just because it felt like they were perfectly made to be cut out for them. In a way, because you were so different from Jaehyun, it made you perfect. Now his mind was kept wondering about all the different possibilities and all the chances he had with you and what could have happened if only he knew how to speak up and to realize much sooner that he loved you too.

He’s been in the middle of wracking up a storm in his head trying to write the paper on Icarus, noticing that (even though that’s exactly the writing assignment) he isn’t any different at all from the character.

Jung Jaehyun, always caught up in his own world where he is always praised an loved by everybody else, but he is left in these moments of vulnerability because he loves you.

It is the championship game of the season, the last game they’ll ever be playing for college basketball, when Jung Jaehyun tries his best to get his mind off of you for just one second. Big scouts are there to watch the game, and he can’t fuck it up for himself or for any of the other boys.

He couldn’t say that during the time outs that he didn’t look for you in the crowds of people, because he did. Trying to imagine that you were somewhere there with Lisa and Chittaphon and actually watching the game. Although he could not locate you, and it was very difficult trying to control his sadness. In his mind he pictured your face, and how intently you would watch the game as if you knew how to play it in the flesh, and how you would clasp your hands together each time you would slightly panic at the possibility of a foul or a missed hoop.

His imagination was not enough, that was for sure, but the idea of you cheering him on and telling him you were happy kept him going. Remembering how you were so genuinely happy for him when he would tell you about how excited he was about being scouted by one of the largest Leagues there was, he couldn’t help but smile his way through the quarters of the game.

Except Jung Jaehyun never prepared for the times when he would remember your face through all the different memories you had shared, even at the final twelve seconds on the shot clock when he was running to their basket— shooting a three pointer with a sure win score, he could remember the way you walked away. And the look on your face when you had cried and told him that he did not understand what he felt.

He stared off of a blank distance his eyes not locked down on anything specific, as the rest of the boys cheered and some got off the bench - Jung Jaehyun’s last time playing for college basketball. Though, the pieces couldn’t fit - even as Johnny Seo smacked him in the arm out of the pure pride he had felt for his captain, and when everybody handed him the championship trophy and carried him from each limb to raise him up as the most valuable player, it simply did not feel complete without you there. Even when their coach told them that SM League would be scheduling an official dinner for him and his team to talk business.

They were all roughly packing up at the locker room now, everyone tired. Through the dreadful noise of Yukhei’s screeching, he placed his items carefully in his duffel bag; realizing now that he was going to have to eventually totally empty up his locker. The metal only felt as cold as how he’d like.

“Jaehyun hyung,” Mark snapped him back into reality, “somebody left this for you a while ago.” His eyes travelled down to see Mark holding a plastic bag, and so he nodded in confused curiosity as he accepted it anyway. It was food? Maybe?

Written in an oddly familiar puppy designed sticky note were the words ‘congratulations, i knew you could do it.’ He couldn’t mistake it for anything else, it had to be your perfectly curved handwriting. Inside there were cans of convenience store beer and a single-sized pizza, reminding him of the times you two used to park by the bay and talk about life in the cold of the hood of his car. You watched his game. More than ever it hit him that he missed you.

Growing up and getting into all school levels, meeting new people and keeping old ones, Jung Jaehyun knew that he just wasn’t the type to really gravitate toward pain. He grew up an only child, with his parents’ undivided attention given towards him and his future - and although he did not make all the friends he wanted, he made really good ones and never had a hard time letting any of them go when time dictated. He learned that every time he used to scrape his knees, it wouldn’t make it feel any better if he cried about it— like every time he failed to make the perfect shot he expected to make in the first place, he never dared to cry.

But with you all he wanted to do was get rid of all the pain - the stupid sensation he felt all over his chest that he could not explain. It was all so alien to him, how you could matter so much to the point where he had to realize now over and over again how stupid he was.

Throughout all the stages in his life he knew that life came easy to him, and he was some how gifted with the charms of reeling other people in, and never having to worry for his impressions onto others. But when he met you, he was always nervous and afraid of saying the wrong thing. When he became your friend he was always thinking about how you must have thought that he was a big distraction and that you had better ways to spend your time. And in those short moments where he could not grasp the events in his own life, he knew he loved you and that’s what mattered anyway.

Jaehyun was writing his paper on Icarus, trying not to divide his attention into anything else. For days he hasn’t seen you in class and his mind wondered what it would have been like if the two of you were fine, and if he had told you earlier on that he loved you too. So now maybe he understood the text a little bit better, maybe he needed to take more chances like Icarus did - even if he knew the repercussions of his actions. And maybe if he did crash and fall, then fail like Icarus, it meant that he took a chance with you anyway.

There was no telling now that he’d broken your heart and his own if he were going to drown in some sea of regret or burn into the sun, but what mattered was that he knew something now that he couldn’t comprehend back then.

He was not afraid of loving you. Not anymore.

His heart was racing, as were his feet and the surprisingly heavy luggage he was dragging around as he and Chittaphon were tailing the Literature professor around the airport in order for them to be admitted to their respective gate. He had his passport lodged between the confines of his lips, trying to keep the thing from touching too much saliva. But then in between his fingers he tried to balance his identification card and his phone, and everyone else wasn’t of help because their hands were all pretty stuffed too. Apparently their flight wasn’t until two hours but since this was a school related thing, they felt the need to panic about being late or potentially getting lost around the airport.

They were going to Thessaloniki now, and there was still no word about your presence - not even your professor mentioning any such detail about an appearance from you on the trip. Jung Jaehyun wouldn’t dare lie and say that he was really bummed that you really weren’t showing up, guilt eating him alive, he hoped over the course of your friendship that the trip to Greece would be a fun thing to enjoy between the two of you. But now, part of him sort of expected a no show from you; no one has heard from you in two weeks, and how was he even able to hope that you were going to show up.

After checking in at the gate, Jaehyun and Chittaphon decided to get some food - as it was about 2 in the morning and they haven’t eaten anything. And there was a twenty our flight in total, the next time they were going to be on land was going to be the layover in Istanbul. Leaving the professor behind to look after all of their things as she claimed an entire bench to the three of them, they set off in a quest to look for some coffee.

“I’ll have two large Americanos please.” Chittaphon told the barista behind the counter.

Jaehyun raised a brow, there was so much caffeine in question, “two? Are you trying to wake yourself up or are you trying to get yourself killed? It’s that, or wasn’t I in charge of buying miss Kim’s coffee?” He asked his friend.

To which Chittaphon responded with a chuckle, “what? It’s not like I’m going to go all berserk on the plane ride after I drink this much coffee.”

“Oh but you’ll have to give me a hard time when you literally get pissy.” Jaehyun joked.

“Who says I’m even sitting next to you, Jae? I’d much rather sit next to miss Kim and tell her how extremely grateful I am to her for allowing me to go on this trip.” His friend jabbed at him.

“Well, whatever suits you Chittaphon.” Jaehyun looks at the barista who was ready to take his order. “Two Americanos and a small box of bagels please.”

As they walked back slowly to find the benches where they set up, talking about how in just a three weeks they were going to graduate, Jaehyun noticed that somebody was talking to their professor. Although, he doesn’t remember seeing anyone they knew when they settled in the gate, so he decided that maybe he mistook a stranger for miss Kim.

“Jae? Where are you going?” Chittaphon asked, three steps behind him as Jaehyun was close to stirring away toward another direction. “Miss Kim is right there.” In Jaehyun’s confused plight, he did realize that he wasn’t seeing incorrectly, and that he was really seeing their professor talking to somebody. But he could only see her back. Miss Kim noticed that the two of them have arrived back and she waved over to beckon them in.

And then the stranger ran a hand through her hair slowly, and a little nervously if his assumption was right by the way her fingers twitched. The thing that gave it all away was that ring around the index finger, one he was accustomed with, something he always saw you wearing.

It couldn’t be.

The stranger turned around, and it was a face he missed a lot. This was no stranger, it was you - little bit more tired looking, and your hair cut shorter. In a way, you did look a little strange; he held a lot of memories in your hands when he took them, scents associated with how he smelt your hair, and each reflection of himself in those doe like eyes. Now your hands were a little bit more frail, and your hair framed your face in a way of change, and your eyes were set in no shock compared to the way his held so much - they were empty. But this was you.

It was, it really was.

Chittaphon was going to have a difficult time trying to explain himself, especially since he and miss Kim knew you were arriving and coming with them to Greece. Also, how he bought you that extra coffee in advance. But most importantly, how he knew the strict seating arrangements of the plane in advance as well. Jaehyun wasn’t going to deal with his piss because you were designated seat mates.

You would have thought that you knew better than to decide to catch up from your apartment, missing two weeks of attending actual lectures - you relied on your professors’ emails. There was some unspoken advantage of acing all of your classes, and being known to be a little more advanced for your age. None of them seemed to second guess your request of asking for all the compliance work you had to accomplish because you had to explain that you had to take a short leave of absence due to ‘medical reasons,’ which was a blatant lie by the way; it was just something you thought was easy to fake since you found your way around to ask for a certificate of an old illness you had when you were younger - that now somehow resurfaced out of thin air. Nevertheless, you put your mind into work and said fuck it.

It was one of the stupidly relieving things you’ve done. It seemed, each time you got your mind off of understanding lessons yourself, your mind always drifted back to Jung Jaehyun - and the answer to avoiding those thoughts were always related to just sleeping it off. The cycle was sluggish, tiring, a terribly perfect way for you to try to grasp the idea of rest.

Until one day after stressfully running your hands through your hair millions and millions of times as the stray pieces disturbed your focus at the pages you were highlighting, you guessed that it was a terrific idea to cut your hair. Surprise, it felt like it freed much needed space somewhere you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

A couple of days on this hiatus you found yourself in, and a ton of coffee consumed later, you were palpitating beyond comfortability. Frustratingly, the facilities got it all wrong when you were trying to explain what you felt one of the men listening by the reception was the father of a girl you had some classes with (you remembered that face from her graduation last year, before she was now taking up her masters), and you were transferred to the therapy unit to make sure they tried all sides of trying to assess your situation. Funnily enough, it took a certified psychiatrist to figure out that you were drinking way too much caffeine.

Then a few days later, you knew that it was the final (final, final) basketball championship game for the collegiate level. Although you were gravely sleep deprived with less tense muscles clinging onto your nerves, you figured that you had a heart somewhere still hidden away tucked beneath Jung Jaehyun’s sweaty strands of hair. You argued with yourself that you should have stayed away, because you knew that it was inevitable for them to win. But you were not going to pass up the final time you were going to see the legendary basketball team you watched all the damn time since you were a freshman, and you weren’t going to throw all of Jung Jaehyun away. Maybe now you were calmer, hiding behind scarier, more intimidating looking people in the bleachers - clumsily balancing the pizza and beer you bought between your fidgeting fingers each time the other team would make a clean steal at the ball. It still hurt somewhere to see him. Jung Jaehyun looked tired on court, and it was the first time you witnessed him looking so disheveled in the place you’d usually find him to be shining. But when the crowd went ballistic when the margin was far off and he took a final shot just for the sake of it, you stormed out to leave your little gift behind. It all just felt happy in your head; you were happy for him, you were very much sure that he would be playing for the big leagues.

Even though you had this whole debacle on how you were secretly catching up with your classes, of course your participation in the trip to Thessaloniki wasn’t out of the picture. Part of you was awfully assuming that you wouldn’t see Jung Jaehyun on the trip because maybe he had half the mind to give it up because you were going as well. But then again from the absence you took, to which you did not respond to any of your friends at all about their worried queries, you thought that maybe it would be a lot more logical for him to go on the trip assuming that you were gone from university. So you asked for a special consideration from your professor, miss Kim, if she would still count you in as part of the trip - to which she answered with ‘as long as you are able to pass, and as long as you are able to commit to going.’

That, if it weren’t for your deep and utter need to be able to hold on to your love for writing, you had to commit to. Sure it was quite difficult to put a little bit of yourself aside in order to really catch up, but unfortunately that was the only path you could take.

Nothing could ever mentally prepare you for this trip. Not even the two weeks you took of intensive studying by yourself, or that time you learned French for a semester and was put on the spot for it by touring a French transferee around your campus. It wasn’t like you did not know that you were going to likely suffer through his presence; it was hard enough as it is to basically put yourself into isolation - and now he’s one of the first people you were going to see.

You had assumed over text with Chittaphon and miss Kim that your rather late arrival was absolutely fine, since they gave off the vibe that only the two of them were patiently out to wait for you at the gate. So when Chittaphon asked you if you wanted a cup of coffee during the wait, you immediately said yes - as you thought that you looked like such a monstrosity, the caffeine boost was very much appreciated. Except, when you arrived to have a brief catching up with only your professor who was surrounded by a sea of luggage, you felt oddly alarmed.

Alarms did sound off in your head when you turned around to notice Chittaphon and Jung Jaehyun holding excessive amounts of coffee, a very bland look dawned by the boy mentioned in the latter. It was as if he was wiped off of all emotion in one whole sweep of just spotting you, and it hurt to see him that way. It hurt to just see him at all.

How did you even get here a few hours later? Basically melting into your seat next to Jung Jaehyun, you felt like you were slowly going to disappear into a little pile of goo. The feeling in the air was terribly odd, especially when you were trying keep your composure - and you weren’t sure whether the feeling was angry or sad. And you wished your body was capable of turning itself into goo; it could save you the immense torture of the awkward tension that filled the air. Because he was there, he was real, he was sitting right next to you. All your eyes could do was try and distract your brain by looking at all the little cracks between the airplane seats in front of you, not minding that it looked like you were staring at the same cartoon projection of your destination from the small television screen from behind the seats. Chittaphon had betrayed you: admitting earlier that he was responsible for booking these tickets last minute because he took on this responsibility. Apparently you and Jaehyun were meant to sit at least ten rows away from miss Kim and Chittaphon, next to each other, with you seated by the window seat. This was a set up, and clearly it wasn’t working.

The hours between the flight it took for you to get to the layover in Istanbul was mildly uneventful. You weren’t able to really sleep it all off because the coffee kicked in at the wrong time, and it seemed the same way for Jaehyun. Who only took to wearing his AirPods, not sparing you a single glance at all. The way you retaliated was through watching a movie that was available in the files on the little television, not giving in to having to ask him if you could pass and pee in the lavatory - or just so you wouldn’t resort to breaking the ice because it was awfully silent between the two of you to the point where your throat felt tender. When you two got out your chairs to get your luggage in the compartment above the seats, it was basically the same thing. Just beelines to get the hell out of there.

You could see the hopeful look on Chittaphon’s face as he and miss Kim were waiting for the two of you to exit the plane. It was the kind of look that expected you and Jung Jaehyun to be chummy, or to at least have spoken over things and have an air of comfort between the two of you. But the three feet distance between the two of you was pretty explanatory, and your Thai friend had nothing to expect.

“We’re grabbing some breakfast here on the ground before our next flight,” your professor checked her wrist watch, “which is in about four hours? So we have a lot of time to wait and to eat.” She said, oblivious to the drama between her students.

When the four of you left the gate of the plane, Jung Jaehyun quickly grabbed your carry-on bag, which left you a with imaginary question marks planted all over your face. If you had any guts to even say anything, maybe you would ask him what the hell was he playing at, but the thing is - you really, seriously had no guts at all to spare and even try to face him at the moment. So you could not contest the action.

Even when all of you found a restaurant to eat at around the airport, it was odd sight to see having Jung Jaehyun carry only his and your orders back to the table - considering that he and Chittaphon were carrying the orders, and Chittaphon was the person to buy you coffee before your flight to Istanbul. Your hands brushed against against that of Jaehyun’s when he handed you your drink, the the surge of electricity left you even more puzzled.

But when Jung Jaehyun asked you if you were okay as you walked to your next boarding flight the few hours later, you decided you couldn’t do this. You could not understand why you did not feel like you wanted to rip his head off, and instead it even hurt you some place in the chest that you did not know could feel that way. You did not feel angry, and it scared you the most how seeing him could change everything so quickly for you.

“Y/N.” He drawled out, he sounded tired trying to come up with reason.

You didn’t have it in you to answer him, so you rushed on over to sit next to your professor instead - with Chittaphon seeing the look on your face. You were horrified, and you weren’t ready to face Jung Jaehyun.

Needless to say, you were sniffling in your plane seat for the first hour until you fell asleep and tried to keep the tears away.

When you arrive in Thessaloniki in Greece, your brain tries to wrack up all the million different beautiful details of the city. You could go on and on to describe the sight that lay before you, but at the moment you simply could not. It was a place that birthed so many different links to human life, and the many things you have read over the years.

You wished you could say that you could smoothly sail through the beauty of the place without having any bothersome thought in your heart because of the boy you were with on this trip, but you could not say that.

It was interesting to think that you’ve liked him for the longest time, and at some point you realized you were the closest friends - the countless times you would text, share the lamest jokes, watch him play in court and worry about basketball after, share meals, take pictures. He was like your poetry collection: you know it for many things and then you realize that all the tears and smudges meant something deeper. Like how he imbedded himself into your skin, and now it’s way different than what it all was.

After a long day of venturing out on the city alone, since you were given the privilege of time, you found yourself walking through the Promenade of the city - where the bay marries the platforms of concrete, stone, and wood. Even in the cold evening air you painfully wonder what went wrong, and how it all got here.

You knew you loved him still, for sure. It was going to take mountains and seas to change that. You could smell the air of the sea, could feel how your feet tried to balance off every uneven step. It reminded you of loving Jaehyun and being his friend, it just all made sense.

Reaching the White Tower of Thessaloniki, you decide that since it doesn’t close for two hours you could spare some time checking out the museum within the monument. It was built in the fifteenth century during the Byzantine fortification, the structure still standing tall on the waterfront of the city. No doubt it’s been tweaked a bit of times throughout all the years, the lights installed inside screamed anything but natural. But you led yourself through the maze of screen heads to be able to try and find your way to get on the top of the tower in hopes to view the sea in a different way.

You reach the top of the tower, only the lights below you truly light up the night. And once again, farther away from comfort, you are alone.

“Can I stand here?” A voice threatens you out of your melancholy, and you were drawn back to that night at the bar - when Chittaphon and Lisa basically abandoned you at the end of the makeshift long table. It seems that Jung Jaehyun asks you these kinds of questions as if you have property rights over all basic human commodities of chairs and floors, and now bricks and concrete. Even his politeness bothers you.

“Sure.” Is the same answer you pose. And he stands three feet away from you, like he has so far during the duration of this trip.

After a few moments of silence, he speaks. “It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?”

You nod, but it’s not like he is looking at you - because you are trying your best not to look at him. “Thessaloniki is, yes.” But he doesn’t respond to you, and you weren’t expecting a response from him either. Small talk worked that way, and it was hard to maneuver yourself into this ‘conversation.’

“No, not this place.” He says, gently. Before you could even respond, you quickly take a glance at him to try and confirm through his expression what he means to say.

And Jung Jaehyun is looking right at you.

“Jaehyun, I—“ You try and reason out that you aren’t ready to face him like this, not when your heart is shattered into a million pieces. And especially not when you don’t care that your heart is broken because he is right there.

“Remember when I told you about getting scouted by that big league for basketball?” He manages to misdirect you just when you were about to step away, so you end up staying in your tracks. “I was so fucking happy holding you then and there when we were looking over the bay on top of my car, and I realized just how scared I was about the future but you made me feel like it’s an absolutely normal thing to feel scared of the unknown. And maybe I wasn’t so scared after all. The view kind of reminds me of that, but we’re standing so far apart, and I can understand why.”

You don’t know what to say, except to keep the bunch in your throat bundled up in nervousness - how you cannot pinpoint what he is trying to lead to. But you find yourself tearing up at his words, and it is salty when your tears find their way to fit into the crevices of your lips.

“Conversely, I think what makes me more scared is that the only reason why I feel like things will go fine is because I believe you. I always really have, and maybe I’ve been too caught up in trying to preserve our friendship to the point where I simply never wanted to tell you that I’m absolutely stupidly in love with you. You aren’t some charity case of some social sciences paper that fell of the file and landed to my hands. It was a lucky thing that allowed me to get to you, and to realize that my admiration must have meant that I’ve liked you for the longest time. I love you because you complete me, and not because I’m trying to complete you. You’re the three-point shoot that makes me win the game by a landslide, Y/N. Now the only thing I know that really fucking scares the shit out of me is losing you and knowing that I hurt you because I tried falling in love with someone else. It’s you.” Jung Jaehyun explains, then pauses. “You can tell me I was stupid for kissing you on the beach like that, I just thought you meant that you loved me and I didn’t know how long for. You can even tell me to fuck off and never talk to you again, and we can try to be civil and enjoy Thessaloniki for as much as we can fake comfortability. I just want to say I love you for as much as I can before I make you run away from me again, because it sucks to know all too well that I love you and that I hurt you. I’m just, I’m sorry.”

You do not speak for as long as you please, because you are trying to absorb what Jung Jaehyun told you.

“Jung Jaehyun, you’re such a fucking bitch.” Are the last seven words you say until you come closer to him and kiss him as hard as you can. He doesn’t expect this at all, obviously - by the way you could feel his face lift in surprise, and the short lag time it takes for him to kiss you back. It’s as if it’s only the two of you there, and you feel yourself unfold in his touch - like the pain drains away from you slowly.

Then, you think, was it so quaintly beautiful to kiss Jung Jaehyun in a historical landmark. Even more beautiful (and kind of confusing) when you forgive him right away; you have been just as stupid as he has.

“So, you’ve been at home all this time, huh?” He asks, as the two of you awkwardly find your way back to the city’s promenade to buy yourselves some time before heading back to the hotel, the distance between you not so far away - but enough for you to feel the cool of the air.

“Yes, I have.” You answer sheepishly, he has you caught guilty of your preference of a flight mechanism.

You turn to face him and redirect the topic back to him, “congrats on your game, by the way. You really nailed that last shot.”

Jaehyun smiles, “you really went on over and watched?”

“I mean, I had to sit somewhere I knew you wouldn’t see so that it wouldn’t be awkward if you did.”

“Well you know what? It was more awkward when Mark gave me the food you got.”

It is your turn to laugh, “I wouldn’t say much about that. All the other boys caught me and I had to make the delivery a little discrete, it was up to them to assign somebody to give the food to you, Mark was just a little unlucky.”

“I’m only a little disappointed,” he pouts, “I really thought you’d be there to hug me first and to tell me I did a great job after my last collegiate game. I should have told you earlier how I felt; this was all really dumb.”

“In my defense, you know I couldn’t just go up to you and hug you after what happened.”

He smiles sadly, “yeah, I know.”

“Jaehyun, it’s really okay. I mean I did say ‘I love you’ first, so it’s on me.” You try to reassure him, but he tries to compete.

“I loved you first though.” It comes out of his mouth with no tone of doubt.

“No, wrong again.” You hold up a loose hand.

“I loved you ever since we had dinner together for the first time, I think it was really there. I know I’m right.” He justifies, but you raise your voice in comparison.

“I loved you first.” You throw the argument back at him.

“No, I believe I loved you first.” He tries to say, and before a loop of argumentation could even happen you start to babble.

“Jaehyun, I’ve loved you since I saw you smile at Johnny from the back row when we became classmates in English for the first time - I don’t see how you can top that. Besides, you just said that you weren’t sure how long I’ve loved you for.”

He looks confused for a moment, and he doesn’t respond. He takes both his palms and clasps at your arms to stop you from walking and to keep you in place.

“Say that again.” He demands

“I have loved you since freshman year? Is that what you wanted me to say, or?” You try not to sound like you don’t understand why he needs to hear this again. But what you don’t know is, as he holds you a little bit tighter, he never knew you’ve loved him for that long - assuming that when you told him you loved him on the beach shore, you meant only recently.

He looks at you in a way you cannot explain, but he kisses you so deeply. And when he pulls away his eyes are filled with question, “I’m so stupid, god.” He says to himself, but you laugh it off instead. “You’re always a step ahead of me, huh?”

Johnny and Doyoung wake you up for a video call request the next morning, you wake up at the annoying notification sound. Neither miss Kim nor Chittaphon encountered you and Jaehyun together last night as you two took a bus back to the hotel after walking through the promenade, so there was no logical reason in your mind that could link back to why these two out of all people were calling you.

But you answer the video call anyway.

“What?” As the pixelated video connects you ask in a grumbled voice.

“Is Jaehyun not with you?” Doyoung says choppily.

“Huh? Why would Jaehyun be with me?” You are confused, as you’re only really waking up alone in your hotel bed.

“Am I not getting transmissions right, or haven’t the two of you made up or something?” Johnny asks this time.

“And when did you hear that?” You pretend you do not understand.

“Dude, I seriously asked Jaehyun to go and talk to you last night because he was planning on doing it anyway but he was chickening out. He texted me a smile emoji at like three in the morning and I thought that it meant that things were fine, but it must have been a sarcastic smile.” He explains.

“So basically you’ve been tailing me through Jaehyun, and now you’re asking me about it? You have real balls, Seo.”

“Are you and Jaehyun okay or what?” Doyoung demands an answer.

You break character just to piss him off a bit. “Yeah we are, dumb ass.” Johnny sighs out of relief from the other line, at the same time you hear knocking on your hotel door and you lazily scramble to answer it. Once you do open the door Chittaphon decides to just barge in.

“Why—“ You don’t even bother continuing your question, instead you change what you were going to ask. “Am I missing something here, or are you all just inviting yourselves to be part of my morning?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. Aside from the fact that Jaehyun woke up way too early for it to be normal and I could hear him singing in the shower. We aren’t even sharing the same room! He’s staying right next to mine and his energy is annoying. What happened? Did you suddenly profess your love for each other or something.” Chittaphon rants out of frustration, but you can only really laugh at this.

“That is precisely what happened, yes.” You answer him, as your Thai friend notices you’re on call with somebody.

“Oh hey Johnny, Doyoung,” He greets as he unsuccessfully waves his hands in the air, “guess we really are the fundamental bridges to their union.” And Johnny is quick to agree on the other end of the line just by the looks of it.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourselves.” You roll your eyes. It doesn’t take long until the entire basketball team goes on to flood your inbox about how happy they are that everything is suddenly alright. You suppose this is a cute thing, how all of these guys have been delicately concerned with what has been going on. You kind of feel like they are the lost boys of Neverland, wanting Peter and Wendy to kiss and make up. This is something you miss. Much to your dismay during that morning, when Chittaphon finally gets back into a good mood after napping on your bed for thirty minutes - in which you’ve already prepared for the day - you haven’t seen Jaehyun yet.

When you go down to the hotel lobby though, there he is, with his hair a little bit damp but his face thrown into a smile once he lays his eyes on you.

“Good morning, sunshine.” He greets, and it even looks like the sunlight is in chorus with his smile. Unbelievable.

“You look way too happy for it to be comfortable.” You comment, but he pulls you into a hug.

“We’re okay now, right?” He asks, and you chuckle into his chest.

“Jung Jaehyun, if we weren’t okay I wouldn’t allow you to do this to me.”

He hums. “I just wanted to say that I love you,” you laugh at him again like it’s the silliest thing in the world to hear— but you are surprised to know that Jaehyun is serious, “I have to make up for the years we could have been in this position, and I could have said it sooner.”

And that’s what Jung Jaehyun does, in every single alleyway and every corner you walk in Thessaloniki. He reminds you that he loves you. When your fingers trace through beautiful words written on the walls of museums, and look through the art piled up in random streets - he tells you he loves you and how you write, and how you tend to overanalyze everything of art you see. He takes notes of this when he takes pictures of you when you are not looking, and you smile when you take unflattering photos of him in return. When he takes your hand, and realizes you are all there is. When he is inside you, and you see how his eyes glint with each time he says that it’s you.

It doesn’t scare you when you get home from Greece. When you have to finally face the music and go back to school, people gawking at the sight of Jung Jaehyun being so outwardly open about the two of you being a couple. It doesn’t scare you to wait for each other after class to go back to getting dinners, and this time spending more and more time with each other. When Jaehyun asks you to be his girlfriend that time when he shadily asks you to go into the court because he said he wanted you to watch him throw his last hoops before the two of you get out of school. It doesn’t scare you when the two of you graduate a while later, and he’s automatically placed into professional basketball, while you’re assigned to do field work for a publishing company that offers travels abroad to investigate history and to simply absorb the world. College turns out to be way faster than you thought; one day you’re crushing on this basketball champion from the bleachers, one day you become hopelessly inseparable, and the next he’s your boyfriend.

Just a few days ago you handed him perfectly straightened envelopes filled with letters you want him to read for each day the two of you would be separated. He was going to intensively train for a while to condition himself in one of their facilities a few states away, while you were off to Crete to take note of significant landmarks and events there. It seemed that you could never have enough of Greece.

“You aren’t coming with me this time.” You talk to him on the phone before you were to board your plane.

“Unfortunately,” he says with a little bit of sadness, “but I’ll see you sooner than you know it, okay?”

“I know, Jae. It isn’t like we’re going to die without each other, this is the fifth time we’re going to be apart for the year but we’re fine. We have to get used to the set up.” You kid, and you practically feel his deep laugh from the other line.

“Oh don’t jinx it, please!” Jaehyun exclaims. “I feel like my heart is going to burst into pieces not being able to hold you.”

“Again, you aren’t going to die Jaehyun, so you better take care of yourself while we’re apart.” You recall the first time he had to go into training and you had to stay behind, Taeyong called you multiple times to say that Jaehyun would refuse to eat because he wasn’t used to the sudden quiet (even though he was with the noisiest bunch in the planet.) He wouldn’t sleep well either, and stay up all night reading because he said it reminded him of you. It took a lot of convincing but eventually you got him to get back on track, which honestly meant threatening him. “If you don’t take care of yourself, I’m going to make sure to beat your ass in return, and you should know that I mean it.”

“Breakfast and dinner don’t taste the same without you.” He whines like a child.

“You’re such a child Jaehyun—“

“I love you.”

Even if he’s said it a million times, it still puts you at a loss of words sometimes.

“My uh, my flight’s boarding. Love you too.” You’re forced to end the call before he can say a goodbye, and although you tell him not to miss you so much - you cannot tell him that you probably miss him more, if not as much.

Crete’s sun is only a little forgiving when you arrive, it is not to hot - but hot enough to bring your face into a scowl. It’s a little bit more calming in Crete than it is in the city you’re from; the streets aren’t as crowded as you would have expected upon your arrival, and the air feels just fine. For a few seconds you think that it might be a little bit easier not to miss Jaehyun, but then you realize that every single little thing you see you automatically remember him - and you want to bring him here just so the two of you can spend more time with each other.

On your first three days in Crete, you try to familiarize yourself with the place. Opting to really try and take a feel at how things are here and how life is, you find yourself exploring places in a quest of getting out of this loneliness you feel. The sun has left your skin in a reddish tint, and the looseness of clothing you carry around just screams how you’re ready for adventure. Chittaphon sent you a link to a few places he heard of from other friends, and that’s how you decided to go around. Eventually, you find yourself in an odd library that offers the sight of artifacts and statues, this is after scouring around looking for some place to eat. You haven’t heard from Jaehyun for the past three days either but you text him a good morning and a good night message each day, you think that the reason why he hasn’t been responding or updating you is probably because he’s too busy training - and it’s happened a lot anyway. So you resort to being on your phone less and try not to think about how much you miss him.

That is, until your phone starts ringing.

“Hello?” You don’t have to look at caller ID twice to know it’s Jaehyun, but the other line is silent. “Jaehyun?” Still no answer, but you don’t have it in you to end the call because it’s him calling.

“You’re looking at the displays of Artemis.” He says after a while.

“Hm,” you look around, and you think he’s only joking but you do notice the display incased in glass, “stalker.”

“And you’re holding a red leather bound book?” Jaehyun continues on but sounds unsure.

A ‘tsk’ leaves your lips, and suddenly you’re on panic mode. “It’s getting a little bit creepy.” You comment and he laughs, but this time it sounds louder than it’s naturally supposed to. So when you turn around to wonder what the hell’s wrong with your phone, you see Jaehyun standing there with his phone pressed up against his ear. You jump on to hug him, and you can feel the vibrations of his laughter. This is the last thing you ever expected. But apparently Jaehyun had to lie about having training; he was given some time off after exceeding his expected performance for the season, and this would be a good way to surprise you.

“Hey.” He peeks over to the book you’re holding: the myth of Icarus and Daedalus.

For a while you wonder if he’s really here, and in a deeper sense - you wonder how he’s your’s and how you ever ended up here. “You’re here.” You say, out of breath.

“I am, with you.” He smiles the smile you love the most.

“I love you.” You bury yourself into his chest, you want to bask yourself in his presence. How he’s here.

“I love you.”

Jung Jaehyun could never say he regretted flying too close to the sun, if it meant falling for you.

fin.

#jaehyun imagine #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #jaehyun smut #jung yoonoh #nct 127 #nct #nct imagines #nct imagine #nct scenarios #nct scenario #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you #jung jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fanfic

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long-cosmos-overhead · 4 years

Text

James Norrington x Reader

Prompt: I was thinking about this one for a while but if you're ever in the mood for writing PotC could you maybe do something with Barbossa or Norrington? Maybe something with a build up like a first kiss or the first time the character and the reader fight someone/something together by each other's side, and their coordination on the battlefield gets tested for the first time and perhaps it strengthens the connection or leads to taking certain measures like training/teaching how to use weapons and react under pressure

I’m going to split these into two parts this one is for Norrington the other will be for barbossa

(I do not own PoTC or its characters/ gif not mine)

Your hand gripped the hilt of the sword. If it were a warm sunny day the blade would’ve reflected the light back out into the vast port just like it did for the past few weeks. The sky was a dark grey possibly setting to rain making the atmosphere cold and dreary. The type of cold to get in your bones and latch on tight until the golden sun tore through the clouds again.

Your knuckles and fingertips turned a harsh red and your wrist ached from swinging the sword only to clash with his powerful defenses that returned in sending pain right up your wrist in swift pangs. You had concluded the moment James first swung at you, that you could never truly appreciate the extent of skill, concentration and pain it took to seem so effortlessly fluent in a field unless you yourself have tried to walk the same path with the same motive.

The more you attacked and defended from what would be fatal blows out on vast seas or faced with a man or woman with the intention to maim or kill, the more energy flowed out your body. You were drained. It felt like water passing from a stream downhill and into dry land most likely to never be seen again. You had improved since first starting you could barely lift a sword back then however your grip still faltered when you lost energy and your movements still became sloppy and delayed.

Your mind trailed away. A dangerous move much too dangerous. Once your mind and body was out of sync you had written your death sentence.

A kick to your legs dragged your mind back down. It was a harsh reminder that you had once again failed to meet your standards the reality knocked down the platform your stood on like a fire against wooden beams. You fell to the ground your sword clattering somewhere in the distance. Your hip instantly throbbed in pain, your wrist and elbow followed suit in acquainting themselves with the hard floor below you.

“Y/n!”

You hadn’t realised your face scrunched up in pain until you opened your eyes to meet the owner of the deep voice. James’ eyes wore worry like a new pair of shoes and his hand trailed inches away from your body before softly resting uncertainly on your cheek almost pleading you to react to his touch instead of pain.

“Y/n I am terribly sorry, I didn’t-”

Your words cut him off saving him an apology and you the salt being rubbed in the wound that you managed to be taken down by a kick to the legs.

“It’s fine James, I wasn’t paying attention, I’m at fault here.”

James picked you up from where you lay gently placing a hand round your arm and one under your waist. If anything standing up made it hurt a little more. Your eyes met James’ face, an almost unreadable expression settled on his features. Only a little readable emotion bled through. It read love however undertones of desperation and want. You weren’t sure what was going on and in all honesty you didn’t feel in the state of mind to be able to piece together such heavy emotions.

However you did pick up on how attractive he looked. Even fresh from a fight you couldn’t deny he was a beautiful man. The way the light caught his eyes and made them appear like the stars beaming in the dark. The way his facial features only seemed to compliment one another, the way he treated you as the most important and valued thing in his life. James Norrington was perfect to you.

James stared back at you and by all the grace of you gods he loved every part of you. The way your skin felt when it touched him, the way he could hold you, the way you made him feel safe and enough in such a plagued world. He was so proud of you. The way you picked up sword fighting the same way as his men once had despite the ridicule from ladies and hours of straining physical movements. James wanted you safe, as safe as you could be. He would always be there by your side to fight off evil but should the time come where he wasn’t he couldn’t even think of what he’d do without you.

His eyes wandered to your lips and it shook him at just how much he wanted to kiss you. To share all his love through such intimacy and feel your body against his and despite the looming cloud that stole all your energy and the dull throb in your side you wanted the exact same.

You two were entranced into a void where only each other existed, time slowed till the point where every little thing was almost slow motion and the intensity of the gases which you looked at each other were immeasurable. Your heart beat irregularly in your chest almost as if it were trying to meet James’ or to drag you closer and by all the power in the world you could not think to move away.

Nasty twangs of pain at your side bled into the void you and James got caught in. Your face suppressed the obvious uncomfortableness that seemed to follow blunt force injuries however as much as you tried James noticed. He had a thing for noticing things. He never let on that he observed far more than the average man or he picked up inconsistencies but you knew.

“Y/n if I may.”

He reached out a hand for you to take asking permission to touch you and lead you to your home. No matter how much you protested he must be tired, James always walked you home. He wanted to know you were safe and be able to share some sort of intimacy with you, to slip his fingers between yours and warm your cold hands.

It may not have seemed like much holding his hand but even the most simplistic touch from James was euphoric. Some days you walked down cobbled streets laughing, today James was pretty silent just focusing on you and on the way you walked with a slight limp to your step. James felt guilty, a growing guilt that thrived the more he looked at you. He shouldn’t have swiped your legs it was not only wrong in terms of fighting with honour - it was misconduct, it was cheating. However his mind wasn’t all too concerned with that. His priory, his true priority was that he had hurt you. He never loved anyone the way he loved you even if you hadn’t kissed yet but that was no way to treat you especially since he is supposed to make you feel safe.

You looked over at James. His strong features never failing to entrance you. You were more than disappointed when you reached your door. Your house was pale in comparison to James’ yet he never seemed to mind. Before you knew him you assumed he was wealthy, commanding and rather uptight however you discovered none of the sort. He was kind and ever so gentle uncaring if he was seen away from well kept and otherwise anything he wouldn’t be associated with. He’d even offered money for upkeeps or repairs yet still left it after you declined.

“I trust you will be safe here Y/n.”

“I will always be safe at my own door, James you need not worry.”

He took your hand in his lightly pressing his lips to your knuckles trying to ignore how cold and tense you seemed. However he failed to notice how your muscles relaxed under his touch and how your eyes almost sparkled from how it felt as if you had been flushed with serotonin.

The feeling ebbed away as quick as it came when he walked away. His long coat that wrapped around his shirt fluttering at the end from the wind. You didn’t like being away from him it felt as if a part of you left with him even if it were only for a few hours. You couldn’t let him just leave. The kiss to your hand was like a spoonful of magic but you wanted more. It seemed selfish but you’d never loved anyone the way you loved him.

“James.”

He turned round to met with your arms around his waist and your body against his chest. He felt happy. Much happier than he’d ever felt you in his hold felt right and for once he could look around the port and see something beautiful. His arms came around your body pressing you a little closer to him. James was warm much warmer than you expected yet he felt far warmer with you despite the cold taking claim to you. It was like the warmth spread across his whole body. He was utterly in love with you.

Neither of you wanted to pull away but eventually you did but this time even when the cold settled back in your body you felt comfortable. He made you dizzy on love.

“Goodnight Norrington.”

It took him a while to break from his lovesick trance.

“Goodnight Y/n.”

You lay in your bed, the soft sheets encasing you like battle armour braving the war against the cold. Yet it seemed like a losing battle your fingertips red and your breath releasing from your mouth as white whisps, the way you imagined a soul would part from its physical being. A shaky breath parted your lips as you rubbed your hands together in hope that the friction would spark some ounce of warmth. Faint drops of rain hammered in the distance, the first few drizzles making way for an inevitable harsher forecast and despite the rain making you feel that bit colder and worried for the wood of your house you felt calm.

You turned on your side. The rustling of sheets almost silenced by the downfall outside. The last pieces of warmth you owned were slowly leaving your body. However the only thing you could focus on was how it would feel to be in James’ embrace. You wished to lay in bed with him and instead of slow dancing with the bitter cold you would be embraced in his warmth. To be completely domestic in each other’s arms. James made you feel warm. A nice warm like bathing in the soft evening sunlight. Your lips tugged upwards slightly and your hands rubbed together once more to grasp the heat amoung the cold before the white whisps parted your lips and wrapped around the candles orange flame releasing darkness through your room.

You awoke with a hammering at your door. It was clearly not a sophisticated knock at the time you weren’t even sure it was a knock however it woke you up immediately. Light shone through the gaps in the wall illuminating strips of your skin. You heard the shouts of men and the screams of woman. Metal on metal rung in your ears until the silence of death were clear, dominating any other sound you could hear.

You shakily stood up, eyes still fixed on the same spot as earlier. You shifted on your feet slightly tripping on the uneven floorboards that was until you heard the distinct voices of the navy men.

“Groves, Mullroy man the east ports.”

James. Something about his voice hit something within you. All your nerves that froze you in fear dissipated. They weren’t replaced by rationality if anything blind need to help, not just James but every man, woman and child took the main stand.

The hilt of your sword gleamed in the dreary light beconing you deeper into your mind with its persuasive grip. The vision and need blurring its lines to rally your body to take the cold hilt of the blade into your hand.

You didn’t acknowledge how the cold metal gripped you back however rushing outside your house you felt bare to the world. You felt small like you were back in your mothers arms again. Men were fighting left and right, some laying on the floor clutching dyed clothing. Smashed glass and splintered wood covered any remaining road. In the distance you heard the fire of guns and cannons which, had they been any closer, would’ve reigned superior to your hearing.

Strangled shouts and chokes were no longer shielded by the walls that you lay in and for a minute it was already all too much. The thought of James and the ever present survival instincts kept you from cowardice and you took your first step into the heat of the fight.

James boot kicked against the chest of its opponent. Water bled through the thin shirt and for a split second he seemed dazed enough for James to get the upper hand. Yet his mind and body were travelling in different wave lengths, his body urging for defence as desperate as a drowning man but his mind was focused on you. James was practically pacing from worry. You were alone without him or anyone to watch your blind spot. Even your home was bordering on the ever expanding outskirts of the gruesome battle and he’d seen firsthand how vicious and merciless pirates were, if you got caught you would not be spared.

The blade swiped all too close to his eyes slicing a stay stand of hair parting it from the others. James sword clashed on the second offence and continued to create the devils music until the blade was wedged in the oppositions lower abdomen. Shock contorted to pain and for a moment his eyes cleared and it was just two men with complex lives staring at each other. It was perhaps the most cruel curse that only a step away from death were people remorseful. His eyes held the heaviest emotions until they glassed over with nothingness. His body fell limp and he stared without seeing. James tugged his arm removing the support on the body allowing the man to finally rest.

James’ head whipped around in every direction he was surrounded by chaos but he needed you, by his side or not he needed to know you were safe.

Your body ached worse than you’d ever felt previous. A gash at your side created a passage for blood to freely travel out of and you wished you stayed in the safety of your home. You were almost fully doubled over in pain and your hand pressed against the growing red stain on your white shirt. The pirate infront of you grinned baring his gold teeth you could smell the alcohol on his breath and his movements read tipsy yet experienced with the blade. You knew the final hit was coming.

You surged any bit of energy that still remained within you to block the attack. Both swords clashing together sending ugly throbbing pains through your hand and wrist, they faired far worse than the ones while training. You barely saw the confusion on the pirates face, he was a rather big and muscular man easily outmatching you. You swiped your foot hitting the back of his knee sending him to the floor where your blade struck true.

You couldn’t tell how long or far you’d been walking through the carnage. Puddles rippled and quaked beneath your foot. Your sword gripped in your hand, the hilt somewhat warmed however still plagued with a different kind of a cold. Your wound had since clotted somewhat just not enough to offer taking away the need for medical care. Your hand had been placed at your side so long it too was beginning to cramp and lose its abilities. Fights were ugly affairs and you just wanted James.

James had been searching for you for longer than his liking. His stress and worry grew each passing second he traced the port unable to find you. Tears sprung to his eyes, he was overwhelmed sometimes the love he held for you overwhelmed him. Being faced with a hideous reality of losing you without even sharing a kiss coupled with the ever growing pit of fear and frustration never ceased to tip him closer and closer into the dangerous territories of his mind.

James blinked back the moisture in his eyes forming a warm uncomfortable gloss over his waterline. His chances of holding you once more grew thinner and thinner thoughout the fight and if it were a physical concept he may as well be walking on string. Pirates swung at him left and right most clearly tipsy and some outright drunk which lessened the danger equipped to them. They had since taken their retreat leaving devastation upon the port but leaving immeasurable torment within James.

“James.”

Your breath was strained, the rise and fall of your chest tortured your side. Your body bent at such an angle it seemed as if you had been sliced in two but you found him you finally had him.

He was disheveled, his hair fallen out of place to hang loosely infront of his eyes, clothes wet and sticking to his body at odd angles creating little shadows patterning his chest, his body was tired and his eyes still searching for the comfort of finding a lost thing so close to your heart. But he was beautiful.

The second the words parted your lips James turned around glossy eyed and mouth slightly parted. He felt his body lose hidden tension he didn’t realise he held onto. His demeanour shifted from relieved to grief stricken once his eyes laid on the red of your shirt. After the red pattern revealed itself to his eyes, the rest followed; the way your body shook in the bitter cold, how the tiredness trickled from your skin, how pleading you seemed to be relieved from such a horrific ordeal.

James couldn’t even acknowledge himself gravitating towards you until you were in his arms. He too shook however out of pure fear for your condition.

“My love, oh god.”

His words were jumbled as his hand ghosted over the wound at your side unsure to touch you or not. His mind too scared and filled with adrenaline to think logically.

“Y/n-,”

His words died in his throat when he felt you launch yourself into his embrace. His chest sparked like a flame kissing wood and fuel was generously added when you buried yourself deeper into his warmth. He had you in his arms right where he yearned for you to be.

“James,”

Your voice came out weaker than you anticipated and tears gathered in your eyes.

“I went out for you.”

James felt his heart fill with pure love. You had trained before but going to battle among pirates was an entire new level. He knew then as he stood with you in his arms that you were his keeper.

His hand gently traced the outskirts of your wound, it had almost entirely clotted itself up now, giving James some peace of mind however he still dare not touch you to cause more harm.

“Does- does it hurt, my love.”

His fingers traced around your skin sending electric through your body despite having barely grazed it.

“A little but I would suffer a thousand times if it meant I could come back to you.”

James couldn’t resist himself any longer your words touched something so deep within him breaking down the wall that restrained him from you. His hand came to slide around your lower back and the other around the back of your shoulders perfectly avoiding anything that could cause you pain. He tugged you towards him, his grip so tight and protective yet gentle and considerate. His lips connected with yours and if you could describe how you felt it would be as if all the warmth and love in the world channeled through your body at once. It was a simple kiss nothing alluding but full of passion and love, the ultimate outlet for all the events that took place a short time ago.

When the two of you parted you were left dizzy searching for air get already addicted to the feeling you had felt in such sheer quality.

“Come back with me,” he almost pleaded. “I want to keep you safe at least for tonight.”

You responded by leaning further into him your mind and body were exhausted yet somewhere in the back of your mind there was an urge. James saved your life, if it weren’t for his countless hours spent teaching you defence and offense and his constant patience you would surely have not survived.

“James, thank you,”

He looked down a slight bit confused for a moment.

“If it weren’t for you I’d surely be dead.”

“I’d spend the rest of my life teaching you if it meant you were safe.”

@lau-rae-lei

#james norrington fluff imagine #james norrington x reader angst #james norrington angst #james norrington x reader #james norrington #potc #ask #request #it’s so late

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