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becomingbts · 3 years

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Time heals (sometimes) - Teaser 1

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the burning spotlights and the applause and the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

GENRE: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series.

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Warnings: The series is going to be heavy with a lot of personal experiences mixed into the fiction, so this is going to be kind of therapeutic for me. Please, consider not reading the series if you are not comfortable with: abandonment issues, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self-harm (not descriptive and only part of MC’s past), suicide thoughts (in the past), toxic behavior, toxic and abusive relationship (in the past), depreciating self-talk and low self-esteem, a lot of curse, physical and mental pain, near death experience situation (in the past), and maybe smut scenes (happy ending though, but it will probably be quite the ride).

NOTE: I was thinking of “Moonchild” and for some reasons, some memories I’d prefer to have forgotten came back to my mind and instead of making a full-blown panic attack like I used to, I thought that it would make a great plot if I mingled that with a soulmate and idol verse and that’s how I started going into it. This is going to be loaded with personal experiences, even if they’ll probably be a bit differently explained compared to what I experienced. Despite the heavy themes and many warnings, I hope you guys will like it. I think I really needed to write it. It will be a semisocial media AU!, because I like the idea of being to write some of their conversations through texts. However, I do plan on fully writing most of it. Though, you’ll have some updates about their social medias as I will update their profiles soon after you see this. I will probably mix a lot of different media for this story such as songs written and produced by myself. I’ll upload for real MC’s EP. So expect a lot for this story. Please take well care, feedback is always very warmly welcomed, it helps me to write for real. If you need to talk to someone, my dms are always opened and if you really don’t feel well, please call urgency numbers.

Thank you for reading,

-Dolly

"And we will close our night show with the most awaited segment! The audience jumped during the commercial break, it's amazing how many people just joined us! Welcome to our interview segment and especially, welcome and thank you so much for being with us Moon!”

"Of course, thank you for having me on your radio show."

"Thank you for coming! I have to mention that this is your very first interview with another media than your usual personal platforms like Vlive, YouTube, or Instagram, so we are honored to be the first ones to greet you! Do you plan on making more activities outside your personal schedule for the promotion of your new album?"

"If I may be honest, not really. I'm the most comfortable in my own safe zone and I tend to try not to get out of it too often. It might close some doors to me but I'm comfortable with my fans that way. However, I often listen to this radio show and a lot of my fans were enthusiastic about that so I thought: why not."

"Ah, thank you so much, it means a lot! Your fans are indeed a strong community and they support you whether you go to TV shows or not. Besides, you've been a very active artist on social media and your whole career started on YouTube and SoundCloud before you signed to your current agency. We have to congratulate you on your journey! It's barely been two years but here you are, with your second EP 'People'! Congratulations on the release!"

"Thank you very much."

“For our listeners who might not know who Moon is, I’m going to introduce her to you: Moon, your real name is (Y/N), you were born on August 4th, 1998, Incheon and your mother was American so you pursued your studies in America. You have been taking online classes since the start of your career at the HULT, university of Florida, and even recently got your Business Bachelor, now aiming for a Ph.D. You started your journey on Youtube, uploading covers and vlogs until you finally started producing your own songs, releasing them on Soundcloud. You started gaining a lot of followers; thus, you started on other social media such as Twitter or Instagram. One year ago, you release your first EP called ‘BALANCE’ which is the reason why the music label BigHit reached to you and asked you if you wanted to sign with them. Did I get everything right?”

“You are. It feels like you know my life better than I do.”

"Ah not at all, but thank you, I am glad that I didn’t say something wrong! Would you mind sharing the concept of this EP? Many of your fans probably already know but maybe some of our daily listeners might not!"

"Of course. As you said, 'People' is my second EP, yet the first to be studio recorded. Signing with BigHit is a big step in my career and it created a lot of changes, hence I decided to focus on the people I have met, stayed with, became close to, or detached myself from… This is dedicated to the people who changed my life, whether they intended to or not. It could be interpreted as my social life diary in a way."

"I see, many of your fans have said that the album held a very distinct duality, with a bright and a much darker side that made quite the storm on social media. ‘Y/N our Moon’ and ‘MOONISBACK’ trended for a few nights on Twitter. Do you have anything you'd like to say about that?"

"I guess it was a surprise because this mini-album is really raw and uncensored. I didn't try to sugarcoat it nor to romanticize my experiences. I hope it brings comfort to people who haven't been feeling well. Because I think that it’s always easy to say that it's going to be okay to someone who’s not feeling well. Everything doesn’t suddenly become okay. And it's fine to be hurting, you can learn to live with this pain and move on while still hoping for better days. There is no end to hopes, and this is why my EP has a brighter side to it. Not everything is always a vast cold ocean. Sometimes, there are small or big waves that come crashing into our universe and they form something that we couldn't have imagined. They bring a little piece of sunshine in life and it helps to move on. So I hope that people who are struggling know that, despite how insignificant I might be, there is a person that understands and can relate to their struggles. I hope it can comfort them, even just slightly, to know that they are not alone."

"That's a beautiful way to put it."

"Ah, thank you."

"I have to ask because I'm really curious and I’m definitely not the only one: a lot of your fans have been theorizing about who could your title track ‘TIME’ be about? I have to ask you on the behalf of everyone. Is it okay for me to break the mystery?"

"Time is a track that shouldn’t have made it to the EP. It’s a bit like a fit of personal anger that I didn’t know I needed to let out.”

“Your anger was definitely heard and understood. People have been curious about the addressee of the song especially because of the line ‘maybe it’s time I finally let go of you’. So can you tell us who is it about?”

“Uh...Time was written for my seven soulmates who rejected me years ago."

"Seven!?"

"Yeah, it's a lot I know.”

“Is that why you have covered your soul mark with this tattoo on your arm? Netizens talked about it a lot; normally idols tend to cover their arm from the public eyes to avoid for their soulmates’ names to be known, but instead, you were proudly showing your tattooed arm, fully covering what might be under the ink. Many people assumed that it meant that you didn’t have a soulmate at all.”

“Well, I decided to cover the mark because there was no reason for me to keep it without hurting myself. I decided that I have been hurt enough to let myself take a rest. I didn’t see the point in hiding my arm either, I’m proud of my tattoo, I mean; it’s really a beautiful piece in my opinion. But to answer the assumptions, I don’t consider that I have soulmates anymore, hence why the tattoo as well."

"This is really a heartbreaking story, it must have been extremely hard. Breaking a soul bond is immensely dangerous, my link with my husband already itches when I spend the day away from him, so seven soul bonds? It must have been terrible."

"It was, but the most important is where I am now. I'm not lingering on that anymore because they made their choices and I thus made mine. I just hope that they all are healthy and happy where they are."

"I have to say I'm really impressed (Y/N)-shi, you really have a delicate and caring soul. I probably wouldn't be able to have such soft words about your soulmates had I been in your shoes."

"I think living the actual experience made me reflect on myself a lot. I'm comfortable where I am now, I'm able to do music and make what I love. I have nothing to complain about, I'm surrounded by lovely and supportive fans, I have the best manager I could have ever hoped for and a warm and healthy family. I don't need more on my side."

"I'm glad you are happy then. Many of your fans have pointed out it's really hard to make you smile and some wonder if you are happy, especially after the release of ‘TIME’, I don’t blame some of your fans for being worried."

"Ahhh, is smiling the only way to prove that we are happy? I believe my words are usually a bit more impactful than my facial expressions. I have to admit that I don't often smile, it's not a bad thing, at least I don't think so, but I just don't feel the need to smile when I don’t feel like it. Besides, I get shy easily when I expose my emotions too much."

"It's hard to imagine you being shy but at the same time now that I have you in front of me, our listeners cannot see you, but I definitely feel that you have a very shy and reserved aura despite the energy you give off when you are on stage. It’s not unfriendly either, but you’re just very soft-spoken and quiet in everything you do. Like when you came in, I barely heard you entering at all; you’re just silently making your way without a fuss, it’s really endearing, to be honest."

"Ah... I’ve been told that my stage persona and the ‘me’ in real life were two different entities but I don’t really think it’s true. I'm extremely introverted and it doesn't really mix well with the stage. So I just put it on the side for the people who came to see me and deserve to see more than a 24 years old woman who has troubles speaking without stuttering in front of other people."

"You stutter when you have to speak in front of other people?"

"Sometimes it happens when I’m nervous, and I’m very often nervous. Like right now, I’m extremely nervous. But it's something I'm working on."

"Well it's definitely paying off because I couldn't sense that you were nervous at all, just very calm and soft, but I wouldn’t be able to imagine you being nervous enough to stutter."

"A lot of artists actually have stage fright, most of them just don't want to admit it because it doesn't sound sexy when you tell your fans you're actually shaking before going up there for the show."

"This is very true, but it's refreshing to hear it from someone who actually lives through that rather than fan theories."

"That's understandable."

"Our time is coming to the end, do you have anything you would like to add before we sadly get our mics taken away?"

"Oh uhm, everyone, my new mini-album 'People' came out very recently and yet it already received a lot of love so I want to thank you for that. This EP was a very personal project and I was worried about how it would be welcomed but you all made me realize that I have nothing to fear because we'll always find someone who can relate to our stories. As long as I can help even one person with my songs, then it's enough for me. Thank you for listening to me and my voice. I hope we'll be able to meet soon. Love you my fans and non-fans as well, please take well care of yourselves in those times. Be careful and stay safe. Wear your mask!"

“Thank you so much Moon for being with us tonight. Our time was short but I really enjoyed it, I hope our listeners were able to feel that very warm presence of yours through the mic. ‘Give Me A Song’ of Moon’s EP ‘People’ will now be playing and we will see each other tomorrow night with IU for the release of her new album LILAC. Take care!”

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Uploaded : 08/04/2021

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neoculturetravesty · 3 years

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We met in online class - Last Part

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, angst, fluff Warnings: Strong language Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: And so it comes to an end, and let me tell you guys, I am not okay 😔 This is going to be a bit of a longer A/N, so please bear with me. If you’d like to get straight to the story, I COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND, so feel free to click Keep Reading!

Lowkey, I had a bit of a meltdown as I typed the final words on this fic because I hadn’t realized how attached I had grown to the characters. This is the first time I wrote three different chapter openers before deciding on one, because I simply couldn’t believe it was goodbye after this.

These mofos had constantly been on my mind for the past two months and a half. I would spend most days thinking about where to take them and then bringing them to life at night, after my entire day was over. When I wasn’t writing, I’d make little notes about thoughts I had into the night about them so that I wouldn’t forget them when morning comes.

This was my first ever (and as of right now, my only) chaptered fic. I had no idea parting with it would be as emotional as it was. When I think back to when I first received the prompt for this, I had never even imagined I could write Renjun, let alone a series. But there was something in the prompt that had gotten my wheels turning. And I am so immensely glad that it did. There were days when I thought “Oh man, what have I gotten myself into.” Some days, the story would just flow. Other days, I’d keep staring at the blinking cursor not knowing what to type. But when I did, I found my emotions so deeply connected with the characters. I was happy when they were happy. I was sad when they were sad. So, parting with them is very hard to say the least.

But through this journey, I got to experience the joy of reading all of your reviews and comments and honestly, it made it all worth it. THANK YOU to every single one of you that read this story and waited on it and laughed and cried with it. You have made my life better in more ways than you can imagine.

In this moment, I want to thank 🍙 anon, because it was their prompt that put me in this mess in the first place. And so, it is only fitting that I dedicate the final part to them 💛

“Oh, we definitely need a picture together. How about here? I think this place would fit everyone.” Kim Doyoung looks about, finding a spot best suited for the photo he wanted.

“I think right there on the platform would be better. We could get everyone in two tiers.” his assistant suggests.

“You’re a genius. Let’s gather everyone. It’s not often that so many NCTU grads and students come to Midnight Arthouse,” Doyoung nods.

“How many of us are here, anyway?” Renjun muses. The assistant looks at her iPad, checking once again.

“I think there’s 23 of you. So, let’s definitely go for the platform.” she nods.

“Okay, then.” Doyoung claps his hands together once, “Gather everyone,” he says to no one in particular and walks ahead with purpose. Renjun and the assistant’s eyes meet and they smirk. Of course this was directed to the both of them. So, they set about to work.

As it would turn out, gathering 23 people from a charity event with art and food and drinks would be a bit of a task. But somehow, they manage to gather all alumni and current students on the platform in three tiers instead of two for a somewhat chaotic picture. There must’ve been something in the water at NCTU because none of it’s students could stand still for very long. They get maybe one decent picture and several in which someone or the other was moving or pulling a face.

His friends aside, looking around at the group, Renjun realized that he recognized nearly all of them. Yangyang and Hendery and the rest of their frat were here. As were the 127s, old and new. Renjun recognized them all, except maybe two boys, who didn’t seem to know a lot of the others either. When the pictures were done and the main events were over and the crowd had started to dissipate, Renjun finally walked over to the artwork to observe it up close.

Honestly speaking, watching the work with his own two eyes left no doubt in his mind that this artist deserved to be spotlighted like this. This work was in a league of its own. Watching it makes Renjun smile; because looking at it makes him think back to a few months ago when he was sitting in Kim Doyoung’s office, thinking of himself as some sort of a big shot. But the truth is, there was no way he had that caliber then, and there is no way he has that caliber now, though he was sure as hell working on it.

“This is the piece I lost the bid on.” Renjun hears a voice and he turns around to see Zhong Chenle’s father observing the art with him. Renjun bows politely and smiles under his mask,

“I mean, this is a remarkable piece. You have good taste.” Renjun acknowledges.

“What about you? Why isn’t any of your artwork displayed here?” he asks and for a while, Renjun smiles a bit nostalgically. He could’ve been here, had he made something for the Annuale. Had he just selfishly taken that shot. Then again, there would’ve been no real guarantees. Because Kim Doyoung was pretty particular in the people he chose, whether they were recommended by his family or not. Working with him closely in the last couple of months had taught Renjun that. It had also taught him how underdeveloped his skill was in the real world context.

“I guess I still have a long way to go.” Renjun replies humbly.

“Don’t we all?” Chenle’s father nods, “Are you working here at this establishment?”

“Um, I… I suppose I am. I am Kim Doyoung’s apprentice. He is my mentor.” Renjun nods.

“So I might see your work here soon enough, eh?” Renjun assumes the kind man is smiling under his mask because his eyes seem to be making the same shape as Chenle’s do when he smiles. So Renjun grins back.

“I mean… if I work really hard, I might get to shoot my shot in the next Midnight Arthouse Annuale.” Renjun fantasizes.

“Or maybe you’d get lucky like this young artist,” he points his chin towards the artwork.

Renjun smiles, “I would credit her luck, too if I hadn’t seen her work. But her talent is… it kinda speaks for itself.”

“Oh, no, you should definitely credit her luck. Talent isn’t enough. The stars have to align. Luck, talent, the right place, the right time. It all has to come together.” he says nodding.

Renjun considers his words. They seem to be coming from the wisdom of experience.

What if Renjun hadn’t received the phone call about his grandma back then? Well, then he probably would’ve made something lackluster and gotten rejected. Working with Kim Doyoung has taught him as much. It didn’t matter who had put a word in for him. At the end of the day, his work had to be outclass.

What if he had received the phone call and then still had enough time to submit something for the Annuale? Then he still probably wouldn’t have because… well, because of you.

What if he had gone ahead, regardless of you or his grandma and just made something and submitted it? Then he still would’ve been rejected. Because the truth of the matter is, he just didn’t have the caliber that artists associated with Midnight Arthouse did.

In that sense, Renjun supposes everything was in fact happening at the right place and right time now. Doyoung was mentoring him and he was getting better by the day. The stars were aligning for him. He knew it in his heart.

“Then I would wish that it all comes together for me, too.” Renjun says.

“When it does, young man, I’ll be the first one to bid on your work.” he says and Renjun doesn’t even have the time to react when he feels a presence breeze in his direction and invade his personal space.

Renjun doesn’t even have to look up to know who it is. He can tell by the way this body fits perfectly into his side. He can tell by how naturally his own body responds and just puts his arm around it’s waist.

“Oh man, I missed all of it, didn’t I?” you lament, as you loop your arms around his neck from the side instead of a hello.

“Not all of it. The guys just left but your brother and his friends are still here. Besides, you had work.” Renjun turns his head and looks into your eyes to reassure you. “Y/N, this is Chenle’s father.”

“Oh, hello!” you say cheerfully and respectfully bow and give you greetings. “It is so nice to meet you. Chenle looks just like you!”

“Yes, I’ve been told I’m a more handsome version of him,” he smiles then turns to Renjun, “And who might this young lady be?”

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N. She goes to NCTU with us.” Renjun introduces you and you bow again. Oh, the thrill he got every time he got to introduce you as his girlfriend. Fuck, he’s pretty sure he’d never tire of it, even if it had just been a few months. The serotonin boost in his veins is strong and he gets the urge to squeeze you and hold you forever.

“Oh, that’s very nice. Come have a meal with us before we have to catch a plane back home, okay?” Chenle’s father invites the two of you.

“Oh, I would love to!” you say in your chipper tone before your eyes start darting around “I’m going to have to excuse myself for a little bit, I just wanna say hi to my brother.” you say and you politely bow before you start moving away.

“Babe, hang on…” Renjun says, holding you back by your hand. He brings his fingers delicately to the bridge of your nose and softly pinches down the mask over it so it sits more snugly on you. “There, it’s much safer now.” Renjun nods and watches the affectionate smile your eyes give before you move away. You looked so pretty today, even if you were just coming back from a four-hour internship. You were easily the most beautiful girl in this room, though Renjun suspected that you’d be the most beautiful girl in any room you entered.

Albeit sometimes, Renjun had to wonder if your talent or your beauty was greater. Because you had become the only junior in NCTU to land an internship at the SMK Trainee Drive. And now that you were a senior, you were somehow managing to keep your grades up alongside it.

Renjun, on the other hand, would find himself struggling with balancing his apprenticeship with his school work. So he knew firsthand how your discipline was something else altogether. Recently though, he had experienced a rise in his grades because you had been taking him on so many study dates that your organizational skills and motivation had started to rub off on him.

Renjun walks around the studio and the party and feels like it’s been too long till you’re finally back by his side.

“Love in the Time of Corona,” you read the title of an art piece displayed in front of you. “That was supposed to be our thing.”

Renjun laughs and has no qualms in looping his arms around your waist and finally pulling you into himself.

“I guess we should’ve realized then how un-novel the idea would become in a few months.” he comments.

“Un-novel is not a word, Huang Renjun.” you narrow your eyes at him.

Renjun laughs. “It is now,” he says and lets out a long exhale, “I missed you today.” he complains, though he looks down at you with warmth.

“Well, you’ve got me now. And you have me for the entire weekend.” you reassure him, your palms on his chest.

“Mhmm.” Renjun smiles and he wants to lean in to kiss you. But Kim Doyoung specifically had people assigned to walk around and make sure that everyone had their masks on when inside. “Also, we already have a thing.” he reminds you and winks.

You laugh, and say “I guess we do,” then let out a happy sigh as your eyes avert from his for a moment, taking in your surroundings. “Our Couple Thing should give you some ideas on what you can make when your work is displayed here in the 2022 Annuale. I won’t be late to that, I promise. I’ll take a day off from everything else in my life.”

Renjun's heart grows warmer still, and he’s sure his eyes reflect what he feels, “How can you be so sure my work will be displayed in the 2022 Annuale?”

“I don’t know, Huang Renjun. I just have a feeling about you.” you say and Renjun can see you smile even if your lips are covered by a mask. Your eyes always smiled before your mouth did, anyway.

“Y/N L/N, I have a feeling about you, too.” he retorts.

“And what feeling would that be?” you raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a secret.” he says, but now he sees your pout, even if he can’t see your mouth because your cheeks have puffed up over the mask. It makes him laugh.

“You’re no fun.” you protest.

“I’ll tell you once we get out of here.” Renjun offers.

“Well, I’m ready to leave.” you jut your chin up. Renjun grins and offers you his arm. You grab it with your entire body and the two of you start walking out together.

You had plans for the weekend, after all. And Renjun was determined to keep you all to himself for once, with no one else demanding your time. Not your internship, not your assignments, not any of your friends, and especially not Lee fucking Donghyuck. He was finally going to take you away where it could just be you and him and nobody else.

This moment felt way too surreal to Renjun.

The campfire had simmered down from a glorious roar to a comfortable burn, giving off just enough heat in the cool of an early winter evening. The sky was in it’s fading moments, where the pink of the light was slowly turning to violets and the violets were slowly merging into darks.

Renjun remembered suggesting to you all that time ago that maybe you could go somewhere together. But now that he was here, he hadn’t imagined that the moment would feel as surreal as it did.

Because now the two of you are sitting in front of your tent by the fire, entwined in one another. You’re sitting between his legs, arms around his neck, nuzzling your cheek inside his padded jacket while he supports your head on his arm and kisses you.

He’s holding you in his arms and kissing you and everything seems so perfect that for a moment, he has to pull away to watch your face and wonder if all of this was real. And though there is a gentle smile on your face, you’re not opening your eyes much. Because you know full well that Renjun’s lips would be back on yours in no time. So you play with his hair as they fall to his forehead and when he kisses you again, you press up into him so he would wrap his arms around you and hold you tighter. He does and he rubs his hands up and down your back and attempts to close his jacket around you.

“Are you cold?” he asks lovingly. You shake your head.

“No. I just want to crawl inside you.” you say, like it’s the most logical thing to be said.

“Creepy.” Renjun remarks but holds you closer still.

“You should be happy you haven’t seen my collection of your hair clippings.” you quip as you nip into the skin of his neck.

“Oh, sweet. That rivals all your used tissues I’ve kept in my shrine at home.”

“Aww, you shouldn’t have.” you coo at him and then lean up to kiss him some more and he laughs. But soon, he pushes the arm that you were using like a pillow up so your face would be closer to his and he could kiss you as deeply as he was truly craving.

The two of you keep kissing like that till the sky is dark. It was an odd sort of trance, being so lost in one another that neither of you cared about what time it was or how long you had been sitting here, wrapped up in one another. Your phones were zipped away in your bags and you hadn’t checked them even once since you had parked your camping van and set up your tent. It was a slow, peaceful sort of bliss, just sitting by the fire and kissing and kissing with nothing else on your minds but being here like this with one another.

“Renjun?” you say, your voice sounding like it was returning from a deep thought.

“Hmm?” Renjun asks as he combs your hair away from your pretty face.

“You know, I learnt today that a cactus can live anywhere between 10 and 200 years.” you tell him, idly tracing the birthmark on the back of his hand.

Renjun leans in and presses long into your lips. “Yeah?” he replies and watches your face. It seemed hazily focused, like it was trying to catch onto a faraway thought.

“I also learnt that it can take up to 30 years for a cactus to bear flowers.” you say in an introspective, wistful tone.

Renjun looks away to hide his smile. Oh God, you were so cute. “Yeah?” he says again, but it’s getting more and more difficult to keep a serious face.

“Sometimes, a cactus doesn’t flower at all.” you say and then you turn your head to look at him like you’ve resurfaced from your thoughts and are now in the moment. Renjun’s grin grows wider. “Renjunnn…” you whine and so he has no choice but to tenderly hold your cheeks in his palms and stroke your hair.

“What?” he chuckles.

“You said you’d think you’re worthy of my forgiveness when the cactus bears flowers.” you whine again and Renjun has to plant a loving kiss to your forehead.

“Is that what I said?” he chuckles some more and then leans in to kiss the anxious realization away from your lips.

“Renjun.” you pout and Renjun laughs and takes his beautiful, whiny, kindhearted girlfriend in his arms and hopes that his hold could chase away all the worries from her pretty, brilliant mind.

He kisses you because his heart can’t bear it any longer. How did he manage to hold a heart like yours in his hand?

Renjun feels an indescribable amount of happiness. Like he wasn’t sure that you were really here with him, in his arms, all for him to hold, with no worry or burden afflicting him. The happiness is so immense and so incredible and so heavy that for a moment, he feels it suffocating him. He wonders if he deserved this kind of happiness.

But right in the next moment, he stops himself. He knew how easy it was to relapse into those tempting, lonesome thoughts. But if there was anything that therapy was teaching him, it was that of course he deserved happiness.

Though right now, holding you in his arms, this happiness was choking him. He felt like his heart was swelling and pressing against his lungs and his chest couldn’t bear it and he could no longer breathe.

“Y/N…” he exhales, holding you back so he can look at your face and you could look up into his. He pauses to gather another breath. Then, he just says it. “I love you.”

And doing so does the trick. He feels his chest slowly getting lighter, because this is what it had been bursting with. Now, he’s told you. Now, it can be unburdened.

You look up at him and there is nothing but a sparkle in your eye, and tenderness in your smile. For a while, you say nothing, just looking upon his eyes like that. “Thank you.” you finally whisper back at him.

Renjun pauses for a moment. But then, he relaxes. This was okay. You didn’t have to say it back right away. Renjun was ready to give you as much time as you needed. So he presses his lips into your forehead once again till he feels you laughing against him. He pulls back in confusion and you grab at the lapel of his parka.

“Huang Renjun…” you say and he looks back at you with uncertainty, “... I love you, too.”

And Renjun can’t help it if he kisses you too hard. He can’t help it that he’s squeezing you too tight. He wouldn’t care if the night brightens back into morning and the morning fades back into night. He was going to hold you just like this for the rest of his life.

So he lays you down and kisses you deeper, like he wanted to make up for all the time he had lost. All the time in his life when he hadn’t known you. All the time he had known you and didn’t let himself have you. He was going to make up for it all. And as he zips the tent up and shields you from the rest of the world, he wonders if he could spend all of his days just like this. Holding you and loving you and knowing that you loved him back; and if he could, today was a damn good day to start.

The fire slows to a simmer till all that’s left are embers that keep being carried away by the breeze. But the two of you remain inside, in your own world, happy that you had found one another, happy that you could finally have one another. Happy that you could hold one another and say that you loved each other and have nothing in the world hold you back, not now, not ever.

You were Y/N and Renjun, Renjun and Y/N, two names that were forever intertwined because that’s how people would call you now. You were the couple that belonged so perfectly with one another that people would wonder if you’d been together for years. And any time someone with a burning curiosity would come up to you and ask,

“So, where did you guys meet?” you would just look at one another, smile and say, “Well, we met in online class.”

~THE END

#renjun fic #renjun fluff #renjun angst #ficscafe #kpopscape #neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #huang renjun #renjun #nct fic #nct dream #nct #nct dream fic #nct fluff #nct angst #nct college au #renjun x reader #we met in online class

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russadler · 3 years

Text

Work Hard, Play Harder - Prologue

Russell Adler x Female OC

The mission sounds simple enough, but the devil was definitely in the details.

A/N: This is something completely new and separate from ‘A Little Death’ and NOT a Russell Adler x Bell. After coming to terms with the issues with that pairing, it was difficult to continue that fic even though I loved it as much as I did. It was devastating to do so, but I’m hoping to create something completely new and fun. I guess this is sort of similar to ‘A Little Death’ in a way but completely different at the same time. This is just the prologue, setting the scene for the fic, but let me know what you guys think <3

June 7, 1982

Langley, Virginia

She’s not entirely sure what she expected, but it wasn’t this.

Her day starts out simple enough. Write memos, respond to emails, read and scribble in the growing stack of files on her desk. Then her department lead tells her Jason Hudson needs to see her and from then on things get very interesting, very fast.

The brunette makes her way to the briefing room with haste, lithe legs carrying her at the fastest pace considered appropriate in Langley’s corridors. Everyone knew Jason Hudson to be a notorious hardass, but he was a decorated one. A long list of achievements had ensured he sat at the echelon of the clandestine operations unit.

Now he wanted her. Getting called on by Mr. Shades himself was the lifelong dream of the many that worked at Langley, but now that it’s happening the woman can’t deny the sense of apprehension at the prospect. She had worked minor roles under the direction of other handlers in a few of the smaller ops he’s overseen over the years, but felt she had done nothing then to warrant his attention whatsoever.

There’s little time to ponder, and before long the briefing room door she’d been directed to enters her field of vision. Shoulders squared and breathing deeply through her nose, knuckles meet the worn wood in delicate but firm raps. A deep voice beckons her forth, and she enters.

Hudson stands at the far end of the table, one hand in his pocket and the other sifting through a stack of papers currently occupying the surface in front of him.

“Agent Fletcher.” He greets flatly, not even sparing her a glance as he focuses his gaze on the aforementioned sheets of paper.

“Sir.” She returns, thankful that she’s managed to keep the nervous tremble from her voice and replace it with something pleasant and airy instead. Taking a seat, her delicate hands flatten her pressed slacks as she moves. Her selected chair is close, but maintains a respectable enough distance from her superior.

“Are you familiar with the name Anthony Lipovetsky, agent?” Hudson cuts to the chase, starting as soon as she’s settled. His cold stare shifts to acknowledge her presence, and a chill comes over her as she stares into those signature reflective shades.

They both knew the answer to his question. Aria Fletcher worked mainly in the drug and contraband trafficking sector of the CIA.

Of course she knew who he was.

Anthony Lipovetsky had steadily become a pain in the DEA’s ass recently, according to what she had been hearing. Though he wasn’t anyone particularly prolific that warranted the CIA’s attention like some others had. Out of the many individuals Hudson could have pulled her here to ask about, the Russian - American was the least expected.

“Drug trafficker making some big moves along the east coast, but he’s not the biggest fish in the pond.” Aria answers, sounding matter of fact as she stares back at the other. It’s more of a question of a statement. Why him?

“You’re right. He isn’t, but it’s recently come to our attention that he’s been dabbling into arms smuggling.” Hudson counters, but it still isn’t the answer she’s looking for.

“Unsurprising. He’s not the first and certainly won’t be the last.” The younger states, but there’s more to this and she knows it. She takes a gamble and makes an educated guess. “Would I be correct in guessing we’re here right now because of his choice in clientele?”

The female agent can only hope Hudson doesn’t think she’s trying to be a smartass, but all she can do is speculate. It’s the only reasonable assumption that comes to mind seeing as the The CIA doesn’t like it very much when people sell guns to the bad guys, and they especially don’t like it if they’re the type of bad guys who like terrorism.

“Precisely.” Hudson answers, and the agent has to fight the urge to smile. Right on the ball.

“We have solid intel that he’s been in contact with a soviet agent named Perseus.” The elder continues even seriously, voice grim as he makes the acknowledgment.

Oh. Oh.

The name Perseus wasn’t one she was familiar with, but the words Soviet Agent had stood out. This was bigger than the domestic drug trade, this was the Soviet Union making way into their backyard.

This is bad. Very, very bad.

“So, what’s the plan?” The young woman queries, a touch hesitant at what role she has to play in something that now seems entirely out of her league.

Hudson’s mouth parts, but a knock at the door interrupts. Her head snaps towards the door as Hudson grants entrance, and in walks Russell Adler.

Langley legend, ‘America’s Monster’ The man’s in a different league even when compared to a heavyweight like Hudson. He’s pretty much a myth. She’s heard the stories about him, both personal and professional. His portfolio of work is way above her pay grade, and his presence immediately makes the entire thing immensely more interesting.

She rode an elevator with him once, almost a year back. The encounter was barely a minute long, but she never forgot how devastatingly attractive the man was, with looks that easily could have landed him in Hollywood. Not to mention the way the man carried himself, assertive and with an undeniable dominance.

Adler doesn’t introduce himself, and doesn’t even spare her a glance nor a word as he takes the seat adjacent to Hudson. His shaded eyes are focused straight ahead as he pulls a cigarette from the pack he seemingly carried in, perching the stick between his lips and igniting it with a zippo lighter that had appeared from God knows where.

Aria hadn’t realized she had been staring until Hudson tosses something at her from his place at the table, the sound jolting her back to attention. A manila folder glides quietly across the stained wood to land neatly in front of her, only two words on the front.

Operation Ocelot.

“Let’s get started.” Hudson announces. She opens the file, and things begin to unravel.

——————————————————————

As it turns out, Operation Ocelot consists of a covert insertion of two agents into Anthony Lipovetsky’s Miami home. That part sounds simple enough, but the devil is definitely in the details.

For the time being, it was prudent Lipovetsky’s connection to Perseus remained intact. They needed a paper trail to follow, and one they could follow without arousing Lipovetsky’s suspicion. There was no real point in spying on someone if they knew they were being spied on.

“The target is well guarded, the man has a price on his head and he’s well aware. Armed security teams around the clock, cameras around the house, the whole package.” Hudson states, slides on the projector screen behind him changing to show a floorplan of the house.

“Is this where I come in?” Aria questions, it’s easy to assume that’s the only reason why she’s here.

It seems they’ve selected her to be the honeypot, an unfortunate consequence of being at the very least a mildly attractive woman in the CIA. Sexuality had proven to be man’s greatest weakness time and time again, and it become just a part of the job. She knew if it was something she didn’t want to do, she could easily say no. But then again, she had killed many people in her time as an agent, and one had quickly learned how to detach emotions from entire aspects of life as necessary.

It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but she swears she sees Hudson and Adler share a look before the former answers her. “It’s where you and Adler come in.”

Adler in the meanwhile, hasn’t spoken throughout the entire thing. He hadn’t even looked at her yet, his sightline having been maintained firmly on the projector screen ahead as Hudson led the briefing. The end of his cigarette had burned red in the darkness as he took steady pulls from it throughout, the only sign of life in an otherwise detached and glacial man.

And now, Russell Adler is looking at her. Dark aviators like twin blackholes that threaten to swallow her whole.

At this point the young agent is visibly confused, as demonstrated by Hudson moving to clarify the statement. “Through our surveillance program we’ve been able to observe the targets' routines and behaviours, and it has been noted that Lipovetsky has a particular…habit.”

“He wants a threesome?” Aria blurts, now fiddling with the gold chain on her neck.

This whole thing just got really fucking weird.

Hudson’s mouth parts, likely looking for a way to word the whole thing professionally, but to her utter surprise Adler is the one who decides to cut to the chase.

“He likes taking home married couples.” He states bluntly, nonchalant as he focuses on crushing the charred stub of his cigarette in the ashtray in front of him.

It’s the first time she’s ever heard Adler speak, his voice low and warm. Though it’s not the sort of warmth one would typically associate with kindness, but rather it brings to mind the heat of a fire and danger. There’s a roughness there too, likely from his smoking, but oh how well does it suit him.

“Oh. Well, that’s…interesting.” Aria huffs with a laugh, feeling honestly a bit relieved. There were definitely weirder things in the world that people were into that she feared. Instead, her body tingles with interest. Married couple.

“Why me then? This isn’t necessarily my normal line of work.” The woman questions. They could have chosen anyone, but they had chosen her. Hundreds of beautiful women worked here everyday but they somehow settled on her?

“You both make an…attractive pair. You fit the bill in terms of the target’s preferences, as well the vacation demographic in the city.” Hudson says, arms crossed at his chest. “Apart from that, you’ve so far had an impressive field career, your performance is consistent and high quality.”

The female agent can’t help the pride that burns in her chest at the praise from such a distinguished and highly respected man like Jason Hudson. Everything suddenly felt like a dream.

“There’s a lot to lose here, we need more than a pretty face. You’ve got what we need.” Hudson emphasizes, the importance of this mission heavily ingrained to the back of her mind.

“So…I’m going to play Adler’s pretty little trophy wife and then we’re going to collectively seduce our way into his house?” Aria wonders aloud, Adler and Hudson not moving to interrupt and permitting her speculation to continue. “And then what? Are we expected to fuck the information out of him?”

Hudson sighs, pinching at his brow in exasperation. Adler jumps in once more, saving Hudson from further embarrassment. “We’re gonna slip him a sedative before things get to that. Special cocktail that’ll make him think he just drank a little too much.”

“Oh, thank god.” The youngest utters under her breath, relieved. Things were definitely easier that way.

“Once he’s out, we’ll mess with the camera system, do recon, collect intel, then get the fuck out.” Adler finishes, intense stare levelled right at her once more. She couldn’t help but squirm, he was almost too much to handle just by existing.

And God, she could listen to that voice all day. She was going to listen to it all day in a short matter of time.

She really loved her job sometimes.

“Sounds simple enough.” Aria resigns, casual as she accepted that her life was just really going to be this outlandish for the next little while.

“You and Adler will set out the day before and go through the motions and leave a paper trail of your own. The target might try and track you both down just to check his bases.” Hudson adds, arms crossed as he switches his gaze back and forth between her and Adler.

“If we leave evidence that we’re just a normal couple doing normal things, it’ll reassure the target there wasn’t any outside involvement and we weren’t up to no good.” Aria finishes, one arm perched on the armrest of her chair and the other fiddling with her pen as she returns Hudson’s gaze.

“Precisely.” Hudson agrees, voice carrying the smallest hint of sympathy.

It’s almost like he feels bad for her.

Hudson dismisses them soon after, handing them directives on the particulars of their individual roles and aliases. Adler storms ahead of her to the exit, moving out without so much as acknowledging her once again.

He was an asshole, but a ridiculously good looking one. She would learn to play his game soon enough, and oh, she would press his buttons.

Hudson is quick to catch her disgruntled reaction at Adler’s behaviour. “Adler’s not the most personable, but he’s a damn good agent. He’ll have your back.” The elder reassures, perhaps seeking to soothe the burn of the other’s abrasive nature.

The woman sighs, turning to flash Hudson a tight lipped smile. “I’ll figure him out, I’m not worried.”

She finishes packing away her items and gets ready to leave, eager to get started on the work ahead. Hudson calls her again as she reaches the door, making her pause in her tracks.

“Remember agent, don’t let me down.”

Nodding with silent determination, she leaves.

#russell adler #russell adler x oc #black ops cold war #bocw #bocw fanfic #black ops cold war fanfic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty #russell adler fanfic #work hard play harder #mine #my fic #my writing

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thenigotthisfamily · 2 years

Text

(Re)Introduction

Summary: Natasha and Yelena join Clint and Kate to introduce themselves to the Tracksuit Mafia.

Word Count: 2,780

Notes: I won’t be able to watch the next Hawkeye episode for a while since my friend I’m watching it with is swamped with finals lol. So no idea if this story even makes sense in relation to what happens in the show, but I just wanted to write more of these four since it’s so fun. Also, this story has references to my previous work Entrance, but can be read as a standalone too.

“So, what’s our play Barton?” Nat asks as Clint, Yelena, Kate, and Natasha travel through the back alleys of New York City.

They come to a halt as Clint stops them at the street he and Kate had their last encounter with the Tracksuit Mafia. The two archers peek around the corner for threats.

Nat takes the moment to look at her sister who hasn’t strayed more than a few inches away from her since they reunited. She grins at the blonde who looks at her with pure love and happiness.

“Я скучал по тебе сестра[1],” she whispers, leaning her forehead against the blonde’s.

Yelena lips turn down slightly as she tries not to cry again. “Я тоже скучал по тебе, позер[2].” She pushes her nose against Natasha’s. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Я не буду. Я обещаю[3].” Nat says as she kisses her sister’s forehead.

Kate walks back over to them, having left Clint to finish scoping out the scene. She looks almost shyly at Natasha who gives her a warm smile while running her fingers through her sister’s hair soothingly. Kate is still not really believing The Black Widow and her sister were there with her. Sure, Clint was her idol, but she quickly found out he was a down-to-earth and caring guy at heart, even if he was rough around the edges. Natasha though, had an air of mystery around her, though she had been nothing but welcoming to Kate in the brief time they had known each other. Even as The Black Widow was standing there being way softer than Kate would have ever thought possible, Natasha radiated this quiet power and strength that Kate couldn’t fully understand but found both amazement and comfort in.

She could tell that Yelena felt the same way. This was the girl that had just beaten Kate twice only minutes before. It was easy to figure out that Yelena was immensely skilled and deadly, and, Kate had a feeling, also just as stubborn and strong as her. So the fact that Yelena was completely relaxed here with her sister just gave the young archer more confidence in The Black Widow. Never mind the fact she somehow returned from the dead.

“Well, to answer your question, the last thing Mr. Hawkeye over there tried was to get captured to meet their boss. We ended up jumping out of a building that got blown up so…that’s how that went.” Kate explains with a shrug.

Yelena laughs at the story as Nat grins at her best friend who has now come back from scoping out the street. “So you tried one of my moves huh Barton? Sounds like you should leave that to the master.”

Clint frowns in a way that looks slightly like a pout. “Laura thought that too.” Nat smiles at the mention of her friend’s name, but Clint just continues, “But it would have worked if Miss Jump Through A Skylight here hadn’t interfered!” He points accusingly at Kate who huffs.

Yelena’s eyes light up at that, “I miss jumping through skylights.”

Natasha swats at her sister lightly while Kate’s eyes grow wide. “How many times have you done that before?”

Yelena shrugs, “Enough, it’s a great way to pull pranks on people. I can give you some tips if you like.”

“Hell yes.” Kate says as Yelena grins, thrilled to have found a fellow prankster.

Meanwhile Natasha is looking at the two warily, not liking the idea of even more pranks she needed to watch out for. She shakes her head and turns to Clint, “How is Laura?”

“Good. Still puts up with me so…”

Nat laughs. “That has always been her superpower.” Clint can’t help but roll his eyes and smile at that. Nat continues softly, “I’d like to see them in person when this is over.”

Clint nods, understanding Nat didn’t want it to be over the phone, especially with the kids. “They’ll be so excited to see you Nat. Lila especially misses you so much.” He reaches out and squeezes Nat’s hand as she tears up slightly. She hadn’t seen the kids since before the snap and she missed them a lot.

“Hey old man, so really, what is the plan here?” Kate folds her arms, pretending to be inpatient. They’d only known each other a few weeks but she already knew how to push Clint’s buttons.

“Ya poser, I thought you guys were supposed to be the best, like real pros. Why all this standing around?”

Kate cocks an eyebrow at Yelena, “Poser?”

“It’s a long story.” Then Yelena thinks about it for a second, “Well, not really. Natasha poses a lot. I make fun of her. That’s it.”

Kate nods slightly, gulping as she makes eye contact with Natasha who is staring intimidatingly at her. “That’s…cute.”

Yelena glances at Natasha and pushes her sister slightly. “Stop scaring her Sestra!” Nat just laughs, offering Kate a smile and the young archer immediately relaxes.

Yelena then turns to Kate seriously and says, “Only I can call her that though.” She says it with slight danger in her eyes and Kate nods rapidly, internally marveling at how quickly these two sisters went from warm and fun to downright scary. Nat just grins at her sister and squeezes Yelena’s hand, understanding Yelena’s meaning. Even though it was in jest, the nickname was now a term of endearment for Yelena to use for Natasha. And no one else was allowed to make fun of her sister with it.

“Well...back to what Yelena said earlier. Something about you guys being the real pros and everything. So again, what is the play old man?” Kate says it with growing impatience.

“And poser.” Yelena grins wickedly at her sister.

Clint sighs, “That’s what they’re gonna call us from now on isn’t it?”

Nat slaps him lightly, “Don’t give them ideas!”

“Too late.” Yelena grins and Nat rolls her eyes but smiles fondly at her sister.

Clint then looks at Nat who looks back at him, immediately knowing what he was going to say because she was thinking the same thing.

The two Avengers and best friends grin at the young archer and widow who both shift slightly, not used to seeing mischief in their role models’ eyes and growing slightly uneasy.

“The play is-“ Natasha begins.

“A little bait and switch.”

---------------------------------------------------------

About 20 minutes later the younger widow and archer find themselves tied to chairs in an old warehouse. Kate squirms in irritation, “I must once again say that I strongly disagree with this plan.”

Clint smiles cockily at Kate as he finishes tying the knots. They were easy enough to get out of, but strong enough to look real. “Kid, you have the easy part.”

“You mean the uncool part.” Yelena grumbles, pouting at her sister who has also just finished tying Yelena. Natasha just laughs, poking Yelena’s nose. Yelena huffs but can’t find it in herself to be that mad when she had just gotten her sister back.

“Yes! I agree with Yelena. Totally uncool-“ the rest of her sentence is cut off as Clint puts a piece of duct-tape over her mouth.

“Better.” He grins. She just glares at him, muttering through the tape.

Meanwhile Yelena tries her puppy dog eyes on Natasha as a last resort. Natasha just shakes her head and playfully puts her hands over Yelena’s eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at them, “Nope, none of that little one.”

Yelena grumbles a bit in Russian but relents, knowing the plan was actually a good one. Natasha holds up the tape, hesitating slightly, not really wanting to put it on.

Yelena sees the redhead’s hesitancy and hazel eyes meet green. “It’s okay Natasha,” Yelena says in a low voice to sooth her sister.

Natasha nods slowly, moving to put the tape on when Yelena moves pulls back slightly. “Just…be okay.” Yelena says it as a quiet plea. She just got her sister back and couldn’t lose her again.

Nat nods, pressing a kiss to Yelena’s nose. “You too Sestra.” She then puts the tape over Yelena’s mouth.

Meanwhile Clint and Kate pretend not to notice the interaction, but both finding it heartwarming how much the sisters clearly loved each other.

With the two prodigies tied up as the bait, Nat and Clint make their way to their hiding spot in the far end of the warehouse to set their trap. Clint calls in the tip, saying that they had captured Kate Bishop and one of her allies. The Tracksuit Mafia would be there in minutes.

While they’re waiting, Clint turns to Natasha. “Just like old times huh?”

Nat smirks, “Not as comfy as an air duct.”

Clint smiles and nudges Nat’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you Nat. These last months without you have been so hard. I-“ He’s about to express his guilt he’s been carrying around for letting her fall. For failing her.

But Natasha shakes her head, putting her hand in his and effectively silencing him. “It’s in the past now Clint. I’m here. I’m okay. Let it go.” Clint nods slightly, sniffling as he holds back tears. He marvels how it only took a few words to lift the immense burden he had been carrying the last months.

Clint turns to Nat again. “Your sister is as cool as you described her. Even if she did shoot me and try to kill me.”

Nat smiles widely at the mention of Yelena. “She’s everything to me.” She says it without hesitation, something Clint knew was huge considering Nat’s past with the Red Room. Nat then examines Clint’s wound on his shoulder where Yelena shot him, pulling back when she’s satisfied the wrappings were still good.

Clint nods, “I’m happy for you Nat. And I’m happy for her. I can already tell you two have a special bond.”

Nat smiles and they sit in silence for a while. They had done this a lot on their many missions together. Often needing to be silent to not be caught, but also just appreciating the trust and peace they had between them.

Finally, men start to enter the warehouse, quickly walking up to Kate and Yelena. “Kate Bishop…” the man rips off the tape from her mouth. “You really are an amateur at this. You just escaped us no less than an hour ago.”

Kate just smirks and shrugs, “What can I say, I’m a slow learner.” She meets the man’s gaze with ferocity though, indicating she was anything but that.

The man walks over to Yelena now, ripping off her tape as well. “And who might this be?”

“Yelena Belova.” The blonde’s eyes hold fire as the man studies her.

“Hmmm. I don’t think we’ve met Ms. Belova. It’s nice to meet you.”

Yelena smirks, “Likewise, I’m sure this won’t be a meeting you forget any time soon.”

The man raises an eyebrow at the challenge in Yelena’s tone. “Is that so?”

Yelena just quirks an eyebrow as another man brings over an iPad, showing the man details that were just discovered. “Hmm so you’re a Widow.”

Kate looks wildly at Yelena for a second, “You were married?”

Yelena looks at Kate like she’s grown three heads.

Before she can respond though, the man continues, “Seems you have a connection with the Black Widow.” Kate’s eyes widen in embarrassment and slight awe as she realizes now what Yelena actually is. Yelena’s lips twitch upward in amusement at the entire situation.

The man walks closer, leaning toward the blonde. From their hiding spot Natasha is ready to pounce on the guy for coming so close to her sister, plan be damned. Clint grabs her arm though, muttering that the two younger ones had it under control and Natasha relents, knowing Yelena can hold her own.

The man sneers at Yelena who only looks at him defiantly, not blinking. Natasha feels her heart fill with pride and love at her sister’s fire, despite wanting to throttle the man. “I heard she died some time ago. A true…tragedy.” The man spits out the last word and Yelena grinds her teeth, barely resisting the urge to break the man’s neck right then and there.

Kate seems to see Yelena’s anger so tries to shift the interaction away from her. “You may wish you hadn’t said that asshole.”

The man leans back and glares at Kate. “Alright, I’ve heard enough from these two. Take them to the boss.”

“And who might that be?” Kate asks innocently.

The man sneers, “You think I’m stupid?”

Kate shrugs, “Maybe.”

The man leans forward, putting his hand on the back of Kate’s chair and tilting her back as he gets closer. “All you need to know is that she wants revenge on you. The Ronin. And I can’t wait to see the hell she brings you.”

Kate just tilts slightly away from him, wondering why everything came back to that suit and why she had decided to put it on in the first place.

Meanwhile, Yelena is getting inpatient. “Are you guys done yet or are you just gonna talk our ears off all night? I can’t think of many worse forms of torture.”

The man sneers, pulling out his gun. Natasha tenses but holds her position.

Yelena and Kate both look unimpressed at the firearm. “Why should I be in any rush. I can do whatever I want. I have the Ronin and a Widow in my clutches.”

Kate pipes up. “Actually, I’m an archer.”

Another man just looks at her weirdly, “An archer…like Hawkeye?” Kate just grins and nods.

The man laughs, “Great, so what should we tell our boss? We have the Black Widow and Hawkeye 2.0? Too bad it’s fake, won’t be as valuable.”

“Well, if you want the real thing all you had to do is ask.” Natasha says it right behind the men who all whirl to look at her. She smirks. “And yes, before you ask, I’m alive.”

The Black Widow throws herself in the group of men, Clint right behind her. Kate and Yelena are working to get out of their bonds but can’t help but watch is slight awe as they see the two original Avengers fight together for the first time in almost 7 years. The superheroes move effortlessly through the men, working in perfect sync to take them all out.

Yelena feels slight jealousy at how well Clint fought with her sister. But that is assuaged a bit when Natasha walks toward her grinning, helping Yelena out of the rest of her bonds and kissing her forehead. “Nice job little one.” Yelena sighs in contentment, moving closer to Nat, happy that her sister was okay.

“Holy shit, that was…scary.” Kate had just gotten free from the last of her bonds, but one could easily see the pure awe and excitement on her face. She thought she was master martial artist and archer but what she just saw was next level.

Clint grins, “Don’t count us old people out quite yet Bishop.”

They all walk over to the lead man who is wheezing on the floor, a nasty cut on his ribs, but no fatal injuries. He looks up at the four of them with fear and slight wonder in his eyes. “This isn’t possible.”

Yelena smiles smugly at him. “Told you you wouldn’t forget this meeting asshole.”

Natasha ruffles Yelena’s hair and then bends down to the man. She pulls an injector from her suit and quickly stabs it into his neck. It’s a tracking agent that goes into the bloodstream that’s undetectable. Stark may have driven Nat insane most of the time, but he did have incredible gadgets.

The man yells in pain, “What the hell was that?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Natasha grabs the man’s chin to look her in the eye. “But listen closely when I say, if you ever talk to my sister like that again, I will kill you with far more pain than that.”

The man’s eyes widen. “She’s your-“

“Yep.” Yelena says, crossing her arms and grinning proudly.

“Well shit.”

“Yep, you’re pretty much screwed man.” Clint says casually, placing tags on the rest of the men as well. “So do yourself a favor and lead us to your boss quickly.”

“Ya, tell them Team HawkWidow times 2 is waiting for them.” Kate says excitedly.

The other three look at her strangely.

“We are not going by that.” Clint says sternly. Nat smiles nicely at Kate but nods in agreement with Clint.

Yelena just huffs, “We’ll work on it.”

Translations [1] I missed you sister. [2] I missed you too, poser. [3] I won’t. I promise.

#natasha and yelena #yelena and natasha #natasha romanov #yelena belova #clint barton #clint and kate #kate bishop #clint and natasha

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generallynerdy · 3 years

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Uncalled they come to me, and told, they still won’t leave me (Din Djarin/Soulmate!Reader)

Spoilers for Chapter 9 (S2E1) of the Mandalorian

Summary: After the ambitious Toro Calican turns on you, his hired mechanic, in hopes of winning favour with the Guild, the mysterious Mandalorian saves your life. Now that you owe him a life debt, he’s stuck with you until you can save him back. It’s not so bad, having a free mechanic and babysitter for the kid, but things take a turn for the worse when both of you realise you might be catching feelings. For someone that might not even be your Soulmate.

Requested by Anon: Hello! How’re you doing? May I please request a Din x reader soulmate au? The one where you don’t see color until you touch your soulmate? It would be very difficult for Din to find his soulmate and I’ve always wanted to see how it played out. If not that’s ok! Thank you and have a wonderful day ❤️

Key: (Y/N) - your name, (h/c) - hair colour, (e/c) - eye colour Translations: vode - siblings, Ret’urcye mhi - goodbye (literally: may we meet again), mirshmure’cya - brain-kiss (Basic term, is Keldabe kiss. This is the soft one as opposed to the literal headbutt term) Asked to be tagged in this disaster: @pearlll09 Word Count: remember when i said this would be 4k? Yeah. It’s 6,478 words. What. The. Fuck.

Author’s Note: this is way longer than I intended it to be but I think u deserve it since u were the only one who saw my post begging for mando requests and actually sent one hksjlfdkj tysm!! I’m so happy I got to write a Soulmate AU for him tbh. Btw, I have it in my head that Yodito would’ve given him the ability to see green, as a familial Soulmate bond, but it wouldn’t work for this if your eyes are green so I just left it out. (Also wtf is up with the Cobb/Din shit, Cobb is clearly in a dedicated relationship with the bartender Weequay. I named them Sala :D) The title is from The Teller of Tales by Gabriela Mistral.

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“Do you wear those gloves all the time?”

The Mando gives you a look—one that you can’t read, obviously, but you get the idea that it’s drier than the desert you’re in.

Calican snorts, but you shoot him a glare and he shuts up. You’re only here because he’s paying well for your mechanical skills, enough that his request of an extra hand on his first bounty seemed reasonable. Finding out that he’s hunting Fennec Shand was...less than pleasing, but now that the Mando is onboard, you’re not quite so worried about the outcome. They’re supposed to be fearsome warriors, after all. And he was smart enough to figure out how to wait out Shand, which is what the three of you have been doing for hours.

“I’m just saying,” you continue, “between the armour and the gloves, it must be damn near impossible to find your Soulmate.”

He shrugs. Sort of. It’s kind of hard to tell, to be honest.

“Haven’t you heard the stories?” Calican asks, flopping back onto the sand. “Mandalorians don’t have Soulmates. They start seeing colour after their first battle; war is their only destiny.”

You roll your eyes. They’re folk tales, really, and ridiculous ones at that. Every sentient has at least one Soulmate, romantic, platonic, familial, or otherwise, and there’s no reason for Mandalorians to be any different. Still, the stories make their rounds. There are specific ones, too, like the one about the Mandalorian Jedi who made the Darksaber; he was said to see colour when he lit his weapon for the first time. Fett, too, was said to have seen a new colour with every clone that was decanted—which is mildly ridiculous.

“Maybe the Mandalorians of old,” Mando comments with a scoff. “Not many of us see battle these days.”

“Well, if you’re looking for it, I know a krayt dragon a few hundred klicks away,” you suggest lightly.

He snorts. “No thanks. I’ll take the assassin.”

“Speaking of,” you said, “you guys know I’m just a mechanic, right?”

There’s a pause. Calican nods, but the Mando is still.

“What?” he asks, displeasure in his voice.

“I mean, I’m pretty good with a blaster, but I’m gonna be useless against Fennec Shand.”

Mando whirls on Calican. “You paid a mechanic to be your back-up? Are you insane?”

He shrugs. “(Y/N) has a mean right hook.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Mando huffs. He looks over at you and you can almost feel him glaring through the visor. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m broke,” you scoff. “Same thing. Oh, hey, do you need repairs on that hunk of junk you pilot? I’ll be more thorough than that lady at the hangar.”

He hesitates. “We’ll see.”

You grin. That’s not a no.

“You’re a prick, did I mention that?” you hiss over your shoulder.

Calican shoves the blaster into your side. “Shut up and keep walking.”

The Mandalorian stands on the other side of the hangar, waiting for Calican to make his move. Seriously, this day could not be going any worse. After killing Shand, Toro Calican, certified dumbass, decided that kidnapping you and the Mandalorian’s—pet? Child?—passenger was the best way to go. Whatever the little weird thing that’s in your arms is, it’s pretty cute, and you’d rather he shoot you than the baby holding tightly onto your shirt. In fact, he probably will, because the kid is his ticket into the Guild—you’re just dead weight.

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh, partner?” Calican asks the Mando. “Drop your blaster and raise ‘em.”

The Mandalorian puts his hands behind his head. Next to you, Calican pushes Peli forward and instructs her to cuff him. With a huff, she moves behind the Mandalorian with the intent to follow orders.

“You’re a Guild traitor, Mando,” Calican begins. You consider sighing. This sounds like the start of a villain monologue. “And I’m willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape. Fennec was right. Bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild, it’ll make me legendary.”

In a burst of light, the Mandalorian sets off a flash grenade.

You yelp and tuck the little thing into your arms before tucking yourself over into a roll down the ramp of the ship. You fall into the sand just in front of the Mandalorian, who’s moved to fire a shot at Calican, sending him flying off the other side, smouldering.

Breathing heavily, you sit up, the child still in your arms.

“Are you okay? Is the child?”

You look up. The Mandalorian has his gloved hand held out, offering to help you up. Hesitantly, you take it and pull yourself off the ground.

“We’re both okay—I think,” you say hesitantly, holding the baby out to him. “Is he—?”

“Dead,” the Mando confirms, taking the child from you.

You frown. “Good riddance. Thank you,” you tell him hesitantly, though your tone is genuine.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

He distracts himself by checking on the child, who coos up at him contentedly. You smile a little at the interaction, but put yourself back into focus.

“It’s not nothing,” you say firmly. “I owe you a life debt.”

He freezes. “What?”

“Where I come from, if someone saves your life, you owe it to them. Until I can save your life, I owe you,” you explain.

“That’s—you don’t need to do that,” he says quickly.

You cross your arms. “It’s like your Way. It’s my culture, my honour on the line. You’re stuck with me, Mando.”

“What? No. Can’t you...pay me, or something?”

“I’m broke, remember?”

“You saved the child’s life, doesn’t that count?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “I rolled with him. You did the work, so, no, it doesn’t count, even though he’s your…” You hesitate, remembering the word. “...foundling.”

“You know, you’re kind of getting the better end of the deal here,” Peli pipes up, directing the thought at the Mandalorian. “A free mechanic, babysitter, and an extra blaster? That’s a bargain.”

“Uh...pre-warning, I don’t know much about child care,” you warn immediately.

He snorts. “Neither do I.” After a moment, he sighs deeply. “Fine. But we’re going to work on those blaster skills before you become a liability.”

“Fair enough.”

Sticking with the Mandalorian is probably the worst decision of your life.

Almost immediately after Tatooine, in need of more funds, he drags you into trouble with another group of bounty hunters and the New Republic, of all groups.

“Who is this?” someone asks, her voice sing-song as she enters the Mandalorian’s ship.

You don’t bother turning around, continuing your repairs on a hull panel. “The mechanic. Don’t touch anything.”

“You have a personal mechanic?”

A few people enter the ship, making you finally turn around. The first speaker is a Twi’lek woman and the second a Human, who squints disdainfully. From behind him, Mando pushes past their little crew—including a protocol droid and a massive Devaronian—to approach you, deciding to stand next to you rather than them, which brings you immense pleasure for some reason.

“No. (Y/N) owes me a life debt and, apparently, credits don’t cut it,” he explains shortly, sounding frustrated and exhausted.

You nudge him companionably—it’s an argument you’ve had a few times, the paying of your debt. He doesn’t want to be free of you, per se, but he doesn’t want you to be in his debt. Having that kind of power or hold over you makes him uncomfortable, you can tell, as every time it comes up he gets twitchy.

“Kinky,” the Twi’lek snickers.

You grimace. That would explain why Mando sounds like he wants to die. “Fun group. What’s the job?”

“One of theirs got caught. We’re getting him out,” he says. “And we’re using our ship.”

Our ship. Maybe it’s a slip of the tongue or maybe he’s making it clear that you’re with him, but either way, it brings a smirk to your face. The Twi’lek looks disgusted.

“Well, at least my hard work won’t be going to waste,” you huff.

“Mando,” the Twi’lek interrupts, “you haven’t introduced us.”

You can feel him rolling his eyes. “(Y/N), meet Mayfeld, Burg, Xi’an. Mayfeld is running point, the droid is flying, and the target is a New Republic transport ship.”

“Ugh. You guys better be good; I’m not getting arrested.”

“Mayfeld’s former Imperial,” Mando says before any of them can answer.

You scoff. “A stormtrooper? My shitty blaster skills would be better than his.”

“I wasn’t a stormtrooper,” Mayfeld spits, annoyed enough that he must’ve said it once already. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

All but the droid stay, scattered around the hull. Mando follows soon after the jump to hyperspace, having hovered over the droid while it set their course. He stops Burg from getting into the weapons cache right after he hops down the ladder and the two look like they want to kill each other.

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian,” the Devaronian grunts.

Mayfeld huffs. “Well, apparently, they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy. So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

They all laugh at that—Xi’an with a particularly nasal one, which is irritating beyond belief. You frown deeply, but try not to show how pissed their laughter makes you. That sort of shit isn’t to be made fun of; a dying race. It’s all too familiar these days, what with the death of Alderaan and the crater on Scarif.

When you come back into focus, Xi’an is talking in low tones.

“See, I know who you really are,” she says to the Mando.

You roll your eyes. Unlikely.

(Something in your brain goes: I do, which is stupid. You don’t know who he is, under that helmet, sure, but you’ve seen a lot of him through his actions. He’s reckless, terrifying, and a badass, but he’s also patient and...kind, in his own way. The way he treats the child is like nothing you’ve seen in another bounty hunter. It’s gentle, caring. The kid has really grown on him, you think. And the way he treats you is just straight up polite, even though you’re practically his servant in terms of a life debt. Still, he treats you like a person and doesn’t ask you to do unreasonable favours just because he saved your life. He doesn’t hold it over your head.)

And then they start goading him about the helmet.

Burg actually goes for it, which Mando beats him back for. You jump forward, but just as you do, the door to the sleeping cot flies open, revealing the child.

Instead, you rush to the child, pulling him into your arms.

“What is that?” Mayfeld asks, approaching.

“Back off,” you hiss.

He looks between you and Mando. “Wait, did you two make that?” When you scoff, he frowns. “What is it, like a pet or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Something like that,” Mando says quickly.

Xi’an frowns. “Didn’t take you for the type. Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

You snort. Soft. That isn’t a word you’d use to describe him, ever. You haven’t seen very much action since Tatooine, but you saw enough there.

Mayfeld reaches for the child and, without hesitation, you lift your blaster. The way he’s looking at the little guy makes you uneasy.

“Fuck off,” you warn instantly.

“Aw, c’mon, I just wanna hold him,” he teases.

Over the comms, the droid’s voice echoes. “Dropping out of hyperspace. Now.”

The entire ship shudders and shakes, sending everyone flying off their feet. You happen to ram into beskar, your face slamming into the metal, which makes you yelp. The baby wails in your arms as gravity makes to tug you away again. Before it can, Mando grabs your arms and holds you in place against him until the ship is steady once more.

“You okay?” he asks, helping you to your feet—again, you think miserably.

“Ugh, no,” you groan, putting a hand on the left side of your face. “That’s gonna bruise.”

Mando takes the child from you. “Sorry. We’ll deal with it after.”

You wave him off. “I’ve had worse. You worry about the job, I’ll watch the kid,” you say, taking the child back. You can’t help but smile when he coos happily.

“Right,” Mando mutters. For a moment, he watches you both, considering.

“Mando!” calls Mayfeld. “Let’s go!”

Before he goes, he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this.” You nod, which seems to appease him, and watch him leave.

Petting the child’s floppy ears, you wonder if he meant that to be as comforting as it was.

I should’ve known, Din thinks when Qin walks out of that cell.

I definitely should’ve known, he decides, returning to the Razor Crest to find a sparking droid corpse and a shaking child in your arms.

He tosses the cuffed Twi’lek to the side and rushes to yours, stepping over Zero’s limp form. You look relatively unfazed, for someone who’s just ripped a droid’s head off with their bare hands, but the child is rather distressed. The kid squeaks at the sight of Din and, much to his surprise, lifts your hand to show him.

It’s bleeding.

“What did you do?” Din questions, crossing the hull for his medical kit.

“I...may have tried to punch the droid,” you admit hesitantly. “It didn’t work.”

He scoffs, returning to kneel in front of you with bacta patches in his hands. “No karking shit.”

Your face falls as he reaches for your hand, pulling it toward him so he can patch it up. “It was gonna hurt the kid.”

“You did good,” he murmurs. “Stupid, but good.”

It never occurred to him that you might save the child again. You’re here out of necessity, after all, because you owe him, because your honour depends on paying that debt. The child is just another being in the vicinity, but you still saved him. Again. You’re either very stupid or very kind and he can’t decide which one is more concerning.

“Maybe you should teach me a bit of hand to hand, too,” you suggest warmly, wincing at the bacta’s sting.

Din makes a noise that’s sort of a laugh. “I’ll add it to the list.”

He moves to put bacta on the bruise his beskar gave you—He feels ridiculously guilty for that; here you are, paying off a life debt to him, and he still manages to hurt you—but with a hand, you stop him.

“Don’t waste it,” you say immediately. “I’ve had worse bruises, seriously.”

He frowns. “It’s not a waste.” Before you can protest, he puts the patch on top of the bruise.

You huff. “You’re a worrier, aren’t you, Mando?”

“Apparently,” he replies dryly. He hadn’t realised it, either.

“Will you stop flirting and get us out of here!?” Qin shouts from the other side of the hull. “The New Republic will be on our asses!”

You roll your eyes. “I hate to say it, but he has a point. Where are the others?”

“Dealt with,” he says simply. “It was a double-cross.”

“Well, I figured,” you shoot back with a knowing look. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The drop is easy enough, especially since Din knows that New Republic signal is beeping steadily from Qin’s pocket. He escapes quickly, dipping back into the Razor Crest, where you wait at the top of the ramp, the child hanging onto your boot.

“Let’s go,” he declares, the ramp shutting behind him as he enters.

“Already?” you question with a raised eyebrow. “There are a few repairs I could make out of hyperspace that might be useful.”

He waves you toward the cockpit. “Later. We need to leave.”

“Oookay.” You frown but do as he says, plucking the child from off your foot. “C’mon, little guy,” you mutter to him.

Din waves away all your questions as he starts the take-off. Finally, when the Razor Crest is a safe distance away from the space station and X-Wings appear out of hyperspace, he glances back at you.

“Holy shit!” you cry as they open fire. You look back at him with a slack jaw, which makes him smile underneath the helmet. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, but it’s enough of an answer.

“You’re a maniac, Mando,” you laugh, watching the scene through the transparisteel.

Din thinks over it, staring at you for a long moment. There’s light in your eyes—maybe it’s the reflection of the explosion, but it’s captivating.

“Din,” he says.

You look over. “Hm?”

He clears his throat, trying to shove aside nerves. “My name. It’s Din.”

“Oh. Oh,” you repeat, eyes wide. Then, you smile, more genuine than he’s ever seen from you, he thinks. “You’re crazy, Din. You know that, right?”

He laughs—and that’s the first time you’ve heard a proper one from him. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

When Din drops a pair of gloves in front of you, you laugh.

“You’re telling me the gloves are out of convenience?” you ask him disbelievingly.

“The more skin you cover, the less likely you are to get cut up by a vibroblade,” he replies dryly. “Put them on.”

You raise your hands in surrender and take them, slipping them over your fingers. “Surprisingly comfy.”

It occurs to you that this is...sort of a big deal. You’ve kept your hands bare for as long as you can remember, mostly because you’re a romantic and finding your Soulmate has been at the forefront of your mind for a long time. But now, you think, it’s not such a big deal. You have a debt to pay and, besides that, you’re pretty happy with how things are now.

Life isn’t exactly nice with Din and the kid, so to say, but you’re content. You love the child and he adores you. The Razor Crest feels more like home than any planet ever has. And Din is...well, he’s something. Being around him is mildly addicting and whenever he’s gone, something feels incomplete.

“Better?” you ask, lifting your gloved hands.

“Much,” he says. Then, he holds out his own hand. “C’mon, up.”

You take the hand without thought, but before you know it, he’s swinging you around and shoving you to the ground.

“Ow!” you cry. “What the hell, Din?”

He huffs. “Lesson 1: Never take anything for granted.”

“Rude.” You hit his arm meaningfully, but he just rolls his eyes; just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean you can’t tell it’s happening.

“You’ll thank me someday.”

“But not today.”

“Nope. Today, you’re gonna hate my guts.”

He’s dying.

It feels unreal, what with everything you’ve watched him survive so far. A newbie bounty hunter, a group of pissed off bounty hunters, lots of bounty hunters, and the New Republic but a group of stormtroopers is what gets him?

Moff Gideon is what really gets him, though. The bastard that helped destroy his people is going to destroy Din Djarin. Hearing him speak Din’s name makes you nauseous, furious, even. He gave you that name in confidence, trusted it to you, the only one of his handful of friends to even use it, and Gideon decides to declare it to Nevaroo in its entirety. It makes your blood boil, enough that you get out of the initial firefight mostly unscathed.

But Din doesn’t. And now he’s dying in your arms and you feel like you failed.

“Go with them,” he tells you, all croaky and half-assed.

“No. No, I’m not leaving you here,” you declare, carefully leaning him against the rubble.

Flames flicker all around the room and the child is crying. It’s not loud or consistent, but it’s enough to break your heart.

“You have to go,” Din says again. “You’ll die.”

You laugh ruefully. “That’s kind of the point. A life debt means I save your life or I die trying.”

A pause.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he hisses through the pain.

“Afraid not, dumbass. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

He grasps your arm, his hands still gloved. If you’re going to die here, maybe you should ask him to take off the gloves. A part of you has wondered…

“C’mon, tell me it’s transferable—some ‘dying wish’ shit like that.”

You nod, though the action sinks uncomfortably into your chest. Leaving him here...that doesn’t sit well with you. But if he asks, then you’ll do it. “Yeah, you name it, but it’d better be a big one, something equivalent.”

The breath he lets out is one of relief. “Take care of the kid. Go find his people and return him to them. Protect him.”

“With my dying breath,” you swear, the words holding an air of ceremony.

Din grasps your arm tighter and pulls you down, your forehead meeting his helmet. You’re not sure what it means, but it must mean something because he mutters words in his own language, which you’ve never heard him do before.

“Ret’urcye mhi.”

May we meet again.

Din does what little he can in saying goodbye to you, as deeply as that cuts. You’ve grown on him, a little too much maybe, and it kills him to think that you’ll be without him now. You still can’t hit a headshot, he realises, suddenly worried for how you’ll fare.

And so he gives you what he can: a Keldabe kiss and a goodbye, instead of the action he wants to take. He wants to take off his gloves and see if he can figure out the colour of your eyes. On the other hand, though, he doesn’t want to leave you with that, of all things, to leave you seeing the red of his blood and the blue-tinged orange of the flames before any other colours.

You take the child in your arms and, with one last glance at Din, leave the room for the covert’s tunnels underground.

The child whimpers up at you.

You look down, sniffling, and pet his ears gently. “I know, little one. I’m so sorry.” You place a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Cara appears, tugging on your wrist. “C’mon,” she says gently. “We need to get out of here.”

It occurs to you, as the three of you and Greef move on, that Cara might help you with the child. For Din, obviously. She’s a good person and, frankly, she and Din seem pretty friendly. The second she saw you, she’d offered her bare hand and bemoaned the fact that her vision was still black and white, much to your amusement. It was all in good fun, but Din had looked a little uncomfortable, for reasons you didn’t know.

“(Y/N),” Cara says quietly, calling your attention back.

You shake yourself from your thoughts. “Sorry.”

She smiles sadly. “It’s okay. Just keep up.”

The small group turns a few corners before footsteps sound from behind. You immediately place the child in the bag hanging from Cara’s shoulder and draw your blaster, watching her and Greef do the same.

From the distant hall, two figures approach: IG-11 and—

“Din!” you half-cry, half-breathe out. Holstering your blaster, you meet them halfway to take more of Din’s weight from IG. “How—?”

“No living thing can see me without my helmet. IG isn’t alive,” Din says dryly.

You laugh, a partly manic sound. “Thank kark. You’re not getting out of this that easy.”

The noise he makes is both amused and resigned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Where’s the—?”

“He’s with Cara,” you say, finishing the thought before even he can, in his groggy state.

It’s safe to say that when the Armourer gives him his sigil, Din almost considers correcting the Clan of two to a Clan of three. He doesn’t, reminding himself that you’re here because of a debt and nothing else, but the thought is there.

The months after Nevarro are more peaceful than the first week of your time with Din.

You finally get to pull a proper sleeping space together for yourself. Well, it’s a hammock in the hull, but it’s better than the seats in the cockpit. The child gets his own hammock, too, though it’s in the cot space with Din. He loves it, so much so that he squeals when he sees it. That’s your proudest moment, for sure.

Most days, you tend to forget that you still owe a life debt. To be honest, it just feels like the three of you are normal. Din takes bounties, you take short mechanic jobs on different planets, and the two of you trade off on child-duty. It’s pretty regular, more than what your life used to be, anyway.

Din is still training you in hand-to-hand and blasters, of course. You’re getting better with the latter, but the first is difficult. On the way to Tatooine, where there’s supposedly another Mandalorian, he decides to have another training session.

“Fists higher, do it again.”

Huffing, you wipe your wrist across your sweaty forehead. It’s easy enough to obey the order—the first part, anyway. Getting into his guard is difficult, though.

One hit, two blocks—there. You slip under his guard and make an abrupt drop to the ground, sweeping his legs out under him with a fierce movement. He goes down in a tumble of beskar, joining you on the floor. As soon as he’s down, you flip over and straddle his hips, an arm over his neck in false threat.

He barks out a laugh. “Much better.”

“I’m not entirely hopeless!” you declare joyfully before bursting into snickers.

Leaning down, you thunk your forehead against his helmet. The gesture is fond, you’ve learned, something shared between close companions—or at least you think. Din told you that it’s called a mirshmure’cya in Mando’a, that it doesn’t have an equivalent word in Basic.

(Which is technically true. Literally, it means brain-kiss, but the outsider term for it is Keldabe kiss. It can be used for close companions—vode in arms, family—but it’s also used for romantic partners, so he’s mildly horrified at the idea of explaining its cultural significance to you and having to face his feelings for someone that may or may not be his Soulmate. He hasn’t gotten up the courage to ask if he can check. Or try to do it discreetly.)

A distant beeping starts up, coming from the cockpit. It’s the approach warning, which means the training session is over.

“I’ll get the kid,” you say, climbing off Din and offering a hand.

He takes it without hesitation, dragging himself up and making a beeline for the cockpit.

Tatooine is about what you remember. That is, it’s dry, sandy, and the worst planet you’ve ever been on. Stepping out of the ship and into the hangar makes you smile, though, at the not-so-distant memory of Din saving your life. It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it’s been years.

“Oh, hey!” says Peli, after greeting the child—which is fair, he’s adorable. “You’re still with him! Haven’t repaid that debt yet, huh?”

Your face falls. “Uh, no, not really.”

On the way to Mos Pelgo, your thoughts linger on the life debt. One of these days, you’re going to save Din’s life—then where will you be? Will he want you to leave? What will you do if you have to leave? Your old life was nowhere near as interesting as this, nor did you have anyone close to what Din and the child are to you.

The dreary grey slopes of sand only make it easier to think of the worst possible outcomes. Now you remember why you hated Tatooine so much.

You don’t even realise the speeder is approaching the small town until Din taps your arm, which is wrapped around his waist. Jumping at the touch, you loosen your grip sheepishly and glance at the child, who looks like he’s enjoying himself immensely.

After the speeder comes to a stop, you take the kid while Din enters the cantina.

When you enter yourself, you find that he’s about to shoot someone, while the Weequay behind the bar looks rather distressed.

“Perfect timing, as always,” Din remarks without a glance.

You raise your free hand. “You’re the bad luck charm, I’m just here for the ride,” you retort teasingly.

“You brought a kid to a gunfight?” his opponent asks, raising an eyebrow.

Finally, you glance over at him and see why Din looks ready to kill him. He’s in Mandalorian armour but his helmet is off—clearly, he’s not Mandalorian. “You’re wearing beskar and you’re not a Mandalorian, buddy. I think you’re in more trouble than the kid is.”

“He is,” Din gets out, a twinge of viciousness in his voice.

Before they can even reach for their blasters, though, the ground starts to shake.

You grab onto the doorway for support, eyes wide as you grip the child. Din and the Mandalorian poser move toward the door, joining you and staring out at the street outside.

The entire planet feels like it rumbles and chaos reigns outside.

Something is moving the sand—coming toward the town.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper as it goes by, shifting the sand like it’s an ocean rather than earth. It flies out of the ground, sharp teeth the only thing you see as it consumes a bantha whole.

When it’s gone, the poser huffs. “Maybe we can work something out.” He turns to you, offering a hand, which is covered by fingerless gloves. “Cobb Vanth. I’m the Marshal here.”

You take it hesitantly, glad that things are still black and white when you make contact. “(Y/N).”

He notices your hesitation and chuckles. “The Weequay in there is Sala, my Soulmate. I’ll see if they can’t whip up something for the kid; I’m sure he’s starving.”

“Very,” you say, just before he goes to leave.

When it’s just you and Din, you look over at your companion. “Krayt dragon, huh?”

“Yep,” he sighs, already sounding tired.

You laugh. “I know I said I could bring you to one when we met, but I was totally kidding.”

He looks over at you and you can feel the low-level glare behind the visor, but it only makes you snicker. “I hate you.”

“You’re so full of shit,” you retort immediately.

You finally get to repay your debt.

It’s not what you’re thinking about when you shove Din out of the way of the krayt’s projectile venom, but it’s repaid nonetheless.

Din doesn’t think of it immediately, either, as he’s rather more concerned with the fact that you’re sent flying across the desert into a pile of debris and sharp rocks.

“(Y/N)!”

Before he can run to you, Cobb grabs his arm. “The dragon!”

To be honest, killing the dragon feels like a bonus when he pulls himself together and figures out a plan. When the great beast explodes, the Tuskens and the villagers cheer, but Din races back to the place he saw you last. He pushes aside the remains of one of those massive weapons they built to find you, laying on the ground. For a moment, panic clutches his heart, but then you groan.

“Am I dead?” you ask.

Din lets out a breath, hardly managing it, as he kneels next to you. “Dumbass.”

“Because it feels like I’m dead.”

“Dumbass,” he repeats, ripping your shirt away to find a deep cut in your side, just above your hip. “Of all the ways to pay your debt—”

You sit up, wincing. “Oh,” you say, as if you hadn’t realised it, “I guess I did that, too.”

Din’s heart is still beating a million klicks a second at how close you were to being dead, but for a second, it flips, realising that you hadn’t saved him just to pay the debt. And then, as he’s helping you off the ground and bringing you toward the others, who have bacta patches ready, his heart sinks.

Your debt is paid. You don’t have any reason to stay with him and the kid. As soon as you get back to the city, he’s going to have to watch you leave.

Shit. He didn’t think this through.

Meanwhile, you’re on the same train of thought. Does he really think you saved him for the debt? Does he want you gone that bad? It makes sense. You’re a pain in the ass, with all the training you need. But...well, you thought he might’ve—

“I’ve changed my mind,” you declare.

Din, terrified, attempts to sound neutral. “About?”

“The worst job we’ve ever taken. This is definitely it,” you huff as he helps you down onto a smoother boulder, taking patches from a Tusken.

He goes to use them, but you raise a hand.

“If you even think about getting near my wound with those nasty gloves, I’m going to skin you,” you threaten.

Frankly, Din is too shaken to even laugh. The silence lays there, stilted, as he removes his gloves and sits somewhat behind you, on another close stone. You’ve taken yours off, too, seeing as one is ripped all the way through.

He’s careful with the bacta patch and his bare hands, making sure not to touch your skin.

Now, of all moments, would be the worst time to find out that you really don’t have a reason to stay.

While he works, he thinks, briefly, that he should say something. “(Y/N),” he starts to say. “I—”

But that happens to be the moment he’s putting the bacta patch on. You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, wincing. Your hand flies out, reaching for something to ground you. Of course, because something out there has it out for you, you grab his hand, forgetting that his gloves are, for once in his life, not there.

You realise, ridiculously, that his hand is warm.

And then the world around you explodes into colour.

The faded yellow of the surrounding desert is overwhelming with how it burns into your eyes alongside the brilliant blue of the sky. The surrounding Tuskens are in browns and greys, simple things, but so, so beautiful to your new sight. You breathe out, a shaky action.

Behind you, Din comes to see the same, but his gaze is stuck on the back of your head—the (h/c) of your hair and how the light catches in it, despite it being a complete mess.

You barely have the breath to gasp, but you do, whirling around to face him.

His beskar is beyond what you’d pictured: a shining, sparkling silver that could stand out on a star. No wonder rooms fall silent at the sight of him.

Din has the same thought about your eyes. On death’s door, all he’d wanted was to know what colour they are and now he knows, but it feels so useless now. He doesn’t even know what to call them. Sure, (e/c) would work, however weakly. You are...something else. You always have been, but now it’s like he can see it, the beauty of who you are so plainly painted into your features.

Din doesn’t even have the time to be afraid of your reaction before the words are slipping out. “I don’t want you to go.”

You just stare at him for a long moment, words processing.

It...kind of freaks him out.

He jumps when you fling yourself at him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in the tightest hug he’s ever gotten. Immediately, he responds, clutching the back of your shirt like it’ll save his life.

“Thank the Force,” you breathe out, just beside where his ear is under the helmet. “I don’t wanna leave.”

Din lets out a breath of relief and tugs you closer so you’re practically sitting on his lap. It can’t be comfortable, but you don’t seem to mind. When you do finally pull away, it’s to press your forehead against his helmet. It sends a swell of affection through him again, your constant Keldabe kisses. He taught you something important to his culture, to him, and here you are, using it without thought.

“Is it too late to tell you that this is the Mandalorian equivalent of a kiss?” he murmurs, more than a little embarrassed.

You laugh softly, arms reaching to rest around his neck. “And I thought you were so cool.”

“I just blew up a krayt dragon,” he argues.

“Oh, you’re plenty badass, Din,” you tease back, “just...not smooth.”

He huffs. “I’m gonna kick your ass next training session.”

A grin comes over your face and, for a second, he can’t comprehend why that would make you smile—until he realises that he just promised a next time. You’d genuinely believed he wanted you gone and Din thought you wanted to leave, but neither of you were right.

A whine from below catches both your attention.

The child reaches up from the ground, making grabby hands.

You laugh, a noise Din echoes quietly, and pluck him from the ground, holding him in your careful hands. “Hey, buddy. Feeling left out?”

He squeaks a confirmation, his little hands—green hands, you realise, deeply amused—reaching for Din’s helmet. Once he has a comfortable hand, he bashes his head against the helmet.

Din yelps, not out of pain, but concern, grabbing for the kid, who wobbles dizzily.

“Oh, shit—” Din says.

“Woah, woah,” you get out between wheezing laughs. “Don’t do that! His head is much harder than yours.”

The kid makes a weak huff and curls against Din’s chest stubbornly.

“I think that was an attempted kiss,” you suggest to Din.

Underneath his helmet, he grins. Petting the child’s head with a gentle finger, he looks back up at you. “It was cute.”

“Very,” you agree.

Without prompting, Din reaches for your hand again, a little hesitant. You take his gladly, running your thumb across his knuckles, which makes him shiver.

“Clan of three,” he whispers.

You lift your gaze. “Hm?”

“The Armourer, she said, ‘Clan of two’ when she gave me my sigil,” he explains. “I wanted to correct her then.”

The smile on your face is beyond words. “Clan of three has a ring to it. You’re stuck with me for good now, Din Djarin.”

He snorts and raises your hand to his helmet, touching it briefly to the metal in lieu of kissing it.

Tatooine might be the worst place in the universe, Din thinks that it doesn’t matter so much where he is. Sitting here, with you and the kid, he thinks that this might be home.

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

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kalee60 · 3 years

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i wish you would write a fic where jock!bucky seduces twink!steve, maybe he hits steve with that pec flex guys do that is both dick-ish and insanely hot at the same time?

Oh Manda - you absolute gorgeous gem! I very much like what you're asking me to create here 😘 I also love, love, love that you sent me a prompt!

I immediately think of sun, summer, ice cream, boys at the beach playing frisbee and our gorgeous Smol!Steve and Jock!Bucky as friends mutually pining (Ha - it's me, it was never going to be anything but this story!)

Once again, my quick little drabble (that I wrote today when I woke up {thanks to my sprinting buddies in discord}) turned into a 4k fic... But I mean - I think that's okay (more stucky for us - right?)

I hope you like where I took this, maybe in a slightly different direction than intended - it's also on ao3 here (with all tags necessary) if you prefer to check them out and read there instead, it'll be part of my stucky bingo fills - Beach and rated M for mild sexual content 😉

If you'd like a fic - here's the post - I wish you'd write a fic... (It might take me a little bit to write - but I will get there!)

Steve was in hell, literally. It was hot, he was sweaty and he was being tortured. Honestly, Steve really loved summer, but at the same time he loathed it. And most of that had to do with the fact he had to sit around in his large group of friends and watch Bucky fucking Barnes sans top and wearing only a small pair of running shorts frolic over the sand at the beach.

Life was unfair.

How could somebody like Bucky actually exist in real time? He was a complete jock for starters, his looks and size perfect for being naturally great at sports, earning him a football scholarship of his choice (of course). And Steve, well Steve Rogers was as far from a jock as anyone could get. Not that he was horrible in the fitness and muscular department, but he was too little and his asthma still played up to join rugged contact sports. Being 5’4 also didn’t particularly endear him to any of the coaches at college who were scouting for star players. Plus studying to be a high school teacher probably wasn’t sporty enough, and he was leaning towards a specialist English role, not Gym.

So Steve joined the campus gym instead of a sporting team, did weights and classes and enjoyed it immensely. It was where he met Natasha, and that fateful meeting brought him to Bucky and his dickish jock ways and friends.

Though if Steve was to be fair (of which he was - usually) not all jocks were dicks, even if Steve had preconceived notions from high school what college boys would be like. He'd been pleasantly surprised to find that the captain of the football team was not only gorgeous, cocky and a bit of a douche, but also very smart, kind and had a smile that could make Steve’s legs turn to jelly with only a small half tilt.

But it was as he sat on a towel under the shade of a large umbrella that Carol had stolen from her parent’s garden shed, that Steve really felt the heat, and it had nothing to do with the blazing sun above him and the burning sand beneath his feet.

It was all Bucky Barnes and his chest, his slim waist, his tanned olive skin, the breadth of his shoulders, the thickness of his sinewed and muscled thighs that tapered down to calves that bunched up as he jumped and landed to grab the frisbee aimed at him.

Steve sighed heavily as his gaze lingered on the brunette. Bucky Barnes was every mans wet dream, every girls perfect prince, and Steve pulled his dark sunnies over his eyes again, ignoring the pounding in his chest, the throbbing in his groin as he watched Bucky behind dark lenses spring up and prance over the sand, laughing with a wide mouth that could do sinful things to Steve’s body. The worst part was that Bucky was doing all of this with no knowledge that Steve harboured the biggest crush of his life.

It really was unfair.

Sitting back to lean on his hands, stretching his legs out, he saw Bucky glance over at him, and gave a smile. Bucky grinned back and then grappled Sam to the sand to yank the frisbee from his grip. Life wasn’t unfair because Bucky didn’t date guys, he did, very much so, and girls too from what Steve had seen, it was just the guys Bucky dated were typically more like… jocks.

Steve hunched over, trying to not stare too long and inadvertently get turned on, finding it an impossibility as his eyes wouldn’t tear away from Bucky’s frame as he bounded effortlessly over the soft sand, something Steve couldn’t do. He’d almost lost a lung from the trek over to their secluded spot earlier that day. Soft sand was the enemy - that was fact.

“Heads up.”

Startled from his thoughts by Bucky’s deep voice urgently calling out his way, Steve looked up only to see the frisbee coming straight for him. With a reaction that even surprised himself, Steve raised his hand and caught the flying disc with nary a blink of an eye.

Bucky was skidding to a halt on his knees before him a second later.

“Shit, Steve. That was epic, you sure you don’t want to play? You can be on my team - my secret frisbee weapon.”

Steve’s mouth went dry as he tried to listen to the words leaving Bucky, because the delectable man was less than two feet away and the smell of sunscreen, sweat and something virile and uniquely Bucky entered his senses. Steve knew that if sitting next to Bucky in the dining hall was torture when Bucky was wearing his spicy cologne, he’d keel over being enveloped in his sweaty beach scent for longer than a minute.

God he wanted Bucky to fill him, everywhere. Make him forget his name, take him over and over.

He realised that he still hadn’t answered and heat crept into his cheeks, managing to blurt out, “I’m good for now. Nat’s grabbing ice creams and I don’t want to get a stitch.”

Steve then gave Bucky what he hoped was a soft and cheeky winning grin, but the way Bucky faltered, swallowed tightly, face impassive made Steve wonder if he’d missed the mark on trying to be flirty.

He really was as hopeless as Darcy continually told him.

Steve’s eyes trailed down to Bucky’s broad and lightly haired chest, finding himself breathing quicker, wondering if he’d remembered to pack his inhaler. No, he was sure it was in the pocket of his backpack. Thank god, he might need it in the face of Bucky’s glorious muscles moving in his vision all day.

“If you’re sure,” Bucky finally said in a deep steady voice.

“Maybe later,” Steve stammered, holding up the frisbee with a shaky hand. He had to get a grip.

“Alright, later then, I’m holding you to that.” And Bucky took the disc from Steve’s grip and was off bounding towards Sam, Carol, Thor and Maria.

While Steve recalibrated his thoughts, Nat came back holding only one ice cream cone, licking it slowly with a sparkle in her eye as Clint trailed behind, wearing Nat’s beach bag and carrying the rest of the ice creams, and Steve worried she’d overestimated his balancing skills. But if Nat asked, Clint would do - it was kind of amazing the power she had over him without even trying. Although they weren’t dating (yet), Nat was never cruel, she was playing the long game and really liked Clint, but had been hurt before by some Russian asshole, and Steve knew that Clint, when Nat finally agreed to go out with him would never be the same man again. He’d be lost in deep shock and joy. They were perfect for each other.

A pang went through his gut as Steve watched them, taking a cone from Clint, wishing he had someone that wanted him as much as they wanted each other.

“Vanilla,” Nat commented with a scrunch of her nose at Steve’s choice as he took a lick of the creamy goodness, the chill on his tongue welcome under the heat of the day. “You’re so very basic, Rogers.”

“Hey there is nothing wrong with that. I happen to love vanilla.” A rich voice said from right in front of Steve as Bucky flopped down on the sand, kicking up little grains that stuck on Bucky’s thighs where he was sweating. Steve shut his eyes against the picture before him, once again pleading to any God or Goddess that would listen that it wasn’t fair, that they had to find him someone one day. He just hoped it would be soon, else his dick drop off from Bucky unwittingly giving him blue balls.

“You’re one to talk, you didn’t even want ice cream, just a soda. And a club soda at that.”

Bucky looked over to Nat, flashing her a wide grin, and Steve immediately started to lick his ice cream just to do anything but stare at the crinkling in the corners of Bucky’s eyes, or to watch his lips as they wrapped around the bottle tip. He only half listened to their banter as they kept teasing each other, Nat and Bucky having been best friends from childhood, the reason how Steve inadvertently fell into the group of jocks, for a lack of a better term to encompass all the fit people he was now surrounded with.

Nat had introduced him to everyone after they’d hit it off at the gym in first semester, and Steve had waited for the inevitable teasing to commence about his small stature, but it never came. He was always included, never mocked (unless it was called for, because he was a facts man and couldn’t help correcting people when they were clearly in the wrong) and it was such a novel experience, so how could he not fall immediately in lust with the football captain? One who had smokey blue-grey eyes, sinfully full lips made for kissing among other fun activities and a personality that you could fall into and live inside forever.

“Err, Steve… your ice cream, it’s ummm, dripping.”

“What?” Steve asked, realising that he’d been swirling his tongue over the top of the soft confectionary and that his fingers were now completely sticky as the ice cream dripped over them on to his thigh. “Oh shit.”

Steve immediately switched hands and started to lap at his fingers, tongue darting between them to catch all the creaminess, sucking them into his mouth one by one, only looking up when he heard a muted groan. Bucky was moving before him, squirming in the sand, and as his eyes landed on Bucky, he startled, surprised to find Bucky’s hooded gaze directly on Steve. But his eyes hadn’t landed just anywhere, they were trained to Steve’s mouth, and as Steve swiped his finger through the sweetness that had dribbled on his thigh, Bucky’s gaze followed that finger's movements. Steve without thought, heart thumping hard, confusion and awe flowing through his veins, stuck the digit in his mouth, licking off the stickiness.

Thankfully, Steve had his sunglasses on, hiding his expression, but he knew his face was burning red at the brash and overt display. Bucky was watching him intently, the rise and fall of his gloriously thick chest heaved, and Bucky’s skin flushed from the exercise or maybe the sun. Steve wasn’t sure.

But it was as Steve licked around the base of the cone again, the ice cream melting quicker in the heat than he could swallow, Bucky’s pecs twitched.

Steve stopped all movement, caught at the tick of flesh, the way it bounced taut, watching with abject lust and desire as Bucky did it again - knowing exactly where Steve’s eyes were trained.

It was such a fucking dick move, a power move to get attention and Steve hated jocks who flexed like that, but on Bucky… on Bucky it was god damn mesmerizing. And it was after the third time Bucky’s pecs jumped, Bucky stood up abruptly and fled saying in a higher pitch than usual that he was jumping in the water, that Steve realised he might not have been doing it on purpose.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bucky was dead, he was going to die from being hard for... how long had he known Steve Rogers, six months maybe? Well, that was how long he’d survived with a non-stop boner for the blonde man. And he was at the end of his tether.

Steve was everything Bucky ever wanted in a partner, smart, strong, intense, funny, handsome and a person that he could fall into, spend time with - love.

So it didn't help his little issue to be at the beach that day, watching Steve sit under the huge umbrella on brightly coloured towels in his swim trunks and a loose tank with arm holes so big he could see all the way through to his muscular chest and pink nipples. It was driving him fucking insane.

Sure he’d seen Steve wearing an array of items at the gym, but he’d never witnessed him so carefree as he was at the beach. He was smiling more, relaxed, joking while big sunglasses hid those gorgeous eyes that would give the ocean a run for its money as to what was bluer.

But what killed Bucky that particular day over every other day he lusted after Steve, what made him clench and twitch all over was watching Steve lick up his ice cream. It was downright obscene, Steve shouldn’t be allowed to do that in public, or at least he should have a warning sticker on his person.

Steve had a mouth made for sucking cock, and Bucky wanted, no, he needed to know what having those lips wrapped around him felt like. Christ, he wanted to know what it felt like to be buried in Steve, maybe even have Steve press into him. Fuck.

There was only one thing for it.

He had to seduce Steve, and he had to do it soon.

But that begged the question - how?

How did Bucky capture the attention of the smartest, funniest, quick witted and grumpiest man on campus? Not only that, but to have Steve take him seriously? Bucky was aware that people thought he was only a dumb jock, that all he had to offer the world was to play ball and shit talk other teams and work out in the gym. Which, yeah of course he did all of those things - but he really was so much more. He was studying economics, was thinking about trying to specialise and work as an international trade specialist after college, and although Bucky really loved playing ball - it wasn’t his whole life. He’d never go pro - well, not without a hell of a lot of luck and persistence, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to take something he enjoyed and make it a living in that way. He’d seen how broken some sports stars bodies were after a career, and he still wanted to be able to walk at forty without having had three knee reconstructions.

But Steve, Steve saw through all of that, he spoke to Bucky like an intellect, like he had something worthy to say, to add to the conversation. Even at the gym after Nat had introduced them (Bucky begging to know who the gorgeous guy she was chatting to on the rowing machines was) Steve and he worked out together, had fun catcalling each other for being weak and helped each other with their forms - something Bucky largely did just to get hands on Steve even though Steve’s form was perfect.

Bucky had been taken with the slight man from the first moment he’d seen him, always under the impression that Steve was too smart to even think about dating a meathead like him, even if he truly wasn't what his physique made him. So he stuck with friendship, but now he wanted more. Was going to ask for more.

“Whatcha thinking?” Nat asked as she swam out to float in the water next to him.

“Nothing much,” He replied, ignoring her knowing hum. He hated that they’d been friends forever and she knew all his tells.

The much needed cold water had soothed his itching skin, and from his vantage point he could look back at their rag tag group of friends, able to stare unabashadly at Steve as he laughed with Clint and Thor about something, staring up at Thor as he... as he fucking flexed in front of Steve.

“Easy boy,” Natasha grabbed his bicep that was taut from clenching his fists, “Thor’s with Jane remember? Steve’s not interested in someone like Thor anyway.”

Bucky’s eyes swung to her immediately. “What do you mean? Because he's a jock?”

Nat let out an exasperated sigh. “No you idiot. Because he’s interest lies elsewhere.”

“Oh,” Bucky’s chest squeezed tight, wondering who had Steve’s undivided attention. And he couldn’t help but watch Steve as Carol held out a hand to pull him to his feet, and suddenly Bucky forgot his disappointment when Steve pulled his tank off, revealing a gorgeous toned body in all its glory. Bucky’s dick stirred. Thank fuck he was hidden in the water.

“You are a colossal idiot. You know that right?” Nat deadpanned.

“I have to ask Steve out,” he blurted. “I need to… I need to be with him.”

“I know,” Nat said with a smirk, and Bucky looked at her gratefully, if she helped he would be fine. “But that really sounds like a you problem. Have fun with that.”

“You horrible cow,” Bucky sniped back, ready to splash her, but she was already under the water stealthily swimming up behind Clint, only to dunk the unsuspecting man.

Bucky’s attention suddenly caught on movement on the shoreline as Steve stood knee deep, testing the water and with no further hesitation, dove in, coming up for air not far from where Bucky floated. Bucky watched mesmerized as the sun glinted off Steve’s wet eyelashes, before he wiped the droplets from them, smiling at Bucky.

“Oh god, this water feels amazing.”

“So would you,” Bucky whispered.

“Huh?” Steve asked.

For a long moment, Bucky stared at Steve, realising that sound carried over water differently and Steve most likely caught what he said. Seducing someone was hard, even though he hadn’t even tried yet.

Instead of answering, Bucky ducked his head so his mouth went underwater and swam towards Steve like a shark, deciding that he just had to ask him point blank, no messing around with seduction. Slipping up out of the water at the last moment he put on his most predatory smile, Steve’s eyes widening and he looked around, face flushed and Bucky hoped he wasn’t looking for an escape.

He quickly darted behind Steve, wrapping his arms tight around his lithe body, trying not to linger too much as Steve was the perfect fit, felt so good against him; and when he heard the small gasp from Steve’s throat he launched him into the air. Flinging Steve into the water a few feet away.

“You fucker,” Steve exclaimed laughing as he came up for air, and Bucky smirked.

Suddenly with a smirk of his own that made Bucky inhale sharply, Steve disappeared under the water, Bucky feeling him come up underneath his body and with a strength that belied Steve’s small stature, completely turning Bucky on more than it should, he was pushed up out of the water, throwing him completely under as well.

“Jesus, Steve. You should join the team.” Bucky spluttered when he came up for air.

Steve grinned back, pushing wet hair out of his eyes and Bucky stared, lost in how stunning Steve looked in the sunlight, that he was there before him alone in the ocean full of people, “I mean they already have you and Sam as Captains. Wouldn’t want to put either of you out of a job.”

Bucky laughed, “I don’t doubt you’d do it too, Stevie.”

And when Steve stopped smiling, Bucky realised what he’d said.

“Shit, sorry - you don’t like that? Nicknames?”

“No I... I do…” Steve answered softly, and Bucky became lost in a blue that matched the water they were treading.

“Would you get out with me?” Bucky blurted.

“Sorry? Get out of the water?”

Bucky internally facepalmed himself. “No, I mean go out.”

“Out. With you?”

Bucky nodded.

“Err, why me?” Steve asked in a small voice lost on a gust of wind.

Looking at Steve, who stared back at him with questions in his eyes, Bucky wanted to explain how much he’d desired it for months, to tell Steve all the ways he wanted to make him happy, and as a multitude of words sat on his tongue, Bucky suddenly understood Steve might not listen to his reasoning, might not believe him. So he decided to show his intent instead, and swam closer. Steve’s eyes were wide, guileless, Bucky seeing a small spark of something more, and hoping he wasn’t triple jumping over a line, he swam up behind Steve. He felt Steve tense up, anticipating to be flung into the water again, but instead, Bucky pulled him closer so that Steve’s back slotted against his front and leaned in, mouth only an inch away from Steve’s ear.

“Why you? Oh Stevie, you have no idea how gorgeous you are. How much I want you.” Bucky pressed his nose against the back of Steve’s ear and inhaled deeply, sunscreen, salt and Steve’s shampoo filled his senses and he lost his head for a moment, especially when Steve let out a high pitched groan and wriggled back into Bucky. “I want to spread you out beneath me, I want to lick all the sweat off your body, sweat that I'm going to cause from working you hard, making you work extra hard for my dick, because Stevie - I want you, I want you bad, and I think you might want me back just as much.”

Bucky hoped he wasn’t completely off base with his desires, that Steve really was just as interested, and when Steve ground back against him, skin sliding against Bucky’s, letting out another moan at the friction when he felt Bucky hardening up underneath him, Bucky knew it was going to be ok.

“Yes…” Steve whimpered as his shorts caught against Bucky’s dick, pushing backwards.

“You want that baby?”

“Fuck. Yes, I do.”

“How much?”

Steve spluttered, and Bucky couldn’t help chuckle at the noise. “What do you mean?”

“How much do you want it?” Bucky knew he was being a prick, making his pec’s tense against Steve’s back, pulling him onto his lap as they floated in the water, before wrapping a leg around one of Steve’s pulling it to the side, making Steve gasp gorgeously.

“A normal amount,” Steve husked back.

“Oh, you want me a normal amount - is that all?” Bucky smirked before licking a sloppy stripe up Steve’s neck at the same time as he snuck a hand down the front of Steve’s swim trunks, gripping his dick tightly, feeling the impressive length and girth for the first time. Fuck, he was definietly not taking switching of the table. But not anytime soon. First, he wanted to take Steve apart in every way conceivable.

Steve meanwhile, was liquid in his arms, going slack as Bucky took his time to explore while they floated in circles not far from the shore, but far enough out they wouldn’t get in trouble. He hoped.

The moans tearing from Steve’s throat were getting louder though, Bucky loving every noise punched out of Steve as he stroked harder under the water, the friction and pressure of the water making him slower and more languid than usual. And Bucky wanted to make Steve call out with no thought or boundaries, nothing to stifle his pleasure, he needed Steve coming in his arms, again and again.

“I think you might just want me a little more than that.” Bucky rasped against Steve’s neck, sucking a bruise onto his pink skin, giving Steve’s dick another sharp tug and before he knew what was happening, Steve was shaking in his arms, whimpering out a release and Bucky was speechless. Utterly speechless as he continued to stroke Steve slowly, carefully as he jerked in his hand.

“Holy fuck, you’re stunning, gorgeous, the absolute best,” Bucky rambled into Steve’s neck, nipping kisses and pressing his lips against him in absolute awe at what had just occured.

Suddenly Steve moved, spinning himself around to straddle Bucky and he went under for a moment as their weights shifted and came back up spluttering, only for Steve to launch himself so his lips pushed against his. Steve took over, devouring his mouth, and although Bucky was the one in control, holding them both up, he’d never felt so out of control as Steve writhed and ground down as best he could in the water. Shit, Steve was going to be a handful and Bucky was there for it.

As he kissed back, grabbing the back of Steve’s head, holding him still as he pressed his tongue in deeply, a huge beach ball smacked into the side of his face. They jumped apart with a gasp.

“Don’t make me go get the hose!” Nat yelled out as she and Clint swam around nearby. “It’s about time you dolts wised up, but this is a public beach with you know - families.”

Bucky watched as Steve’s face flushed a perfect shade of red, and he couldn’t help but grab him again, giving him a quick intense kiss, claiming Steve until he struggled for breath, to show Bucky’s intent was clear and true. It was pure perfection.

“We’ll pick this up again later.” Bucky promised.

“Later.” Steve replied breathlessly.

Suddenly Steve pushed himself away from Bucky, grabbing and throwing the beach ball, hitting Clint dead on the nose. The surprised yelp from both Clint and Natasha made Bucky laugh.

“Oh it’s so on, James,” Nat yelled out.

Steve piped up from his side, “you wish, Romanoff - we’re gonna take you down!”

Bucky beamed.

“Yeah!” he called over to them, dodging the ball that came directly for him as Nat and Clint shit-talked. And as he and Steve swam out to retrieve the ball floating behind them, Bucky turned to Steve and gave him an overtly salacious wink. “And once we take them down, I’m going to take you home and show you what going down is all about.”

Steve burst out laughing. “Really? That was incredibly lame, especially for a savvy sex-crazed jock.”

“You’re not interested in my proposal then?”

“Oh I’m interested,” Steve grinned, licking his lips and Bucky caught his breath. “But if you’re going to use dad jokes on the regular - I might have to start calling you something else in the bedroom.”

Steve then threw the ball, Nat ducking at the last minute, and Bucky didn’t even feel when the returning pitch slammed into his head; Steve’s words creating a delicious cacophony of images and filthy thoughts in his mind instead.

Bucky had always known that Stevie Rogers was going to be both the life and death of him, and as he rubbed his head, grasping the ball in one hand, ready to throw it, he couldn’t wait to see where their adventure would take them.

But first - Clint had to pay.

#stucky #mywriting #friends to lovers #college #bottom Steve #implied switch #beach and fun #melting ice creams are a real issue for libidos #gift for Manda - the best and brightest of them all #prompt game #kalee answers

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fatiguing-thoughts · 3 years

Text

Change of Heart - Paul Lahote x Reader

Request: “Hey, since you don't feel comfortable writing about the poly imprinting thing the other anon suggested, I have an idea based on what they said that maybe you could write instead. So instead of the reader imprinting on both, a reaction type of thing for when the reader had a crush on one, but falls in love with the other with time. If it is preference style, you can get to show both situations (crush on Embry, but falls for Paul later and vice versa)”

this is the crush on Embry -> falling in love with Paul version

Having a mother who was obsessed with the beach was the reason that your life turned out the way it did.

That’s where you met your best friend, Embry Call.

His mother worked at the souvenir shop, she frequently brought him to the beach as well. So time after time of running into each other and playing together as kids-- you grew up hanging out all the time.

Despite you living and going to school in Forks, you guys saw each other at minimum three times a week. And as you got older, you only hung out more. Even into young adulthood.

You guys did everything together. School dances when your moms forced you into going, going to see the movies either of you were dying to watch, and simply hanging around doing nothing. It was like you were dating, but if dating meant that you were merely best friends. No kissing, the awkward touching of hands here and there.

But overall, you and Embry connected deeper than anyone else. You would stay up talking all night, picking the brains of one another’s minds. Listening to music together, singing your favorite songs. Sometimes you stared a little too long at his lips, but that was besides the point. You guys were friends.

I had grown quite the crush on Embry, but I knew deep down that it wouldn’t be worth risking the friendship. I could never risk anything awkward between us. I have never felt this comfortable around another person before, and I doubt that I would find it again. So holding Embry close to my heart as a best friend was an idea that I was well acquainted with. I’d grown to accept it.

Though, as time went on, he began to gain some newer friends, which was normal. What high school boy didn’t hang out with other boys? The only issue was, it seemed to tear into your Embry time.

It was fine, really. Embry’s happiness was my top priority. But when he finally introduced me to his friends, I’ll admit I felt pretty excited. To finally meet some new people, to find friendship in those other than Embry.

Embry was always my best friend, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a bigger circle. He spoke so highly of them all, how could I not be thrilled to meet them?

So when I did, I could say that I was both incredibly nervous, yet excited.

“They’re gonna love you.” He reassures me on our way to Jake’s house.

“How do you know that?” I ask, fiddling with the rip in my jeans.

“Because, I love you. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for. They’re gonna think you’re a lot of fun and super cool, because you are.” He smiles that signature Embry Call grin.

Friend. Ugh. Get it together, (Y/N).

“Thank you, Em.” I smile back.

“Of course.”

The drive to Jacob’s was quick from Embry’s considering they both lived in La Push. Pulling up into the house, Embry led me into the garage where they were working on Jacob’s project car, the rabbit. Embry would never shut up about it, his eyes brighter than the sun whenever he talked about how much fun it was, how he enjoyed finally being able to exercise his mechanic skills.

“Hey guys, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Jacob, Jared, Quil, and Paul. We have a few classes together.” He points at them as he says their names.

“Hi.” I wave shyly.

“(Y/N), I know you haven’t been here yet, but don’t worry. I’ll quickly become your favorite. Don’t stress.” Quil walks over, putting his arm around your shoulder and chuckling.

“Oh great, thanks.” I roll my eyes. “You really weren’t kidding, Em. He’s nuts.” I giggle.

“Wow, okay. Thanks for putting in a good word, Embry.” Quil laughs, walking back to where he stood.

I quickly found myself growing comfortable, no wonder why Embry found good company in these guys. They were all so nice, so down to Earth.

One in particular caught my attention, Paul. He was handsome, well built for his age. He seemed to be just as friendly as the rest, too.

I watched as Embry and Jake worked on the engine, peering over the side of the hood.

“Do you know anything about cars?” A charming voice rings out behind me.

I turn over my shoulder and see Paul, I felt a blush begin to rise to my cheeks. Why did he get me so flustered for absolutely no reason?

“Uh, yeah. A little bit. Embry talks my ear off about them, plus I have some cars I like myself. But mechanical wise, they run circles around me.” I smirk.

“Nice. They’re teaching me a lot more, I’m probably at the same level you’re at.” He chuckles, his deep brown eyes piercing into mine.

“No you’re not, (Y/N) still runs circles around you. I’m the best teacher around.” Embry teases.

“Well, you heard it here first. Looks like I know more than you about cars.” I tease.

“Might have to teach me some stuff some time.” He smirks.

I felt the blush creeping onto my cheeks again, so I bent my head down, glancing down at my feet, before returning his gaze.

“Maybe.”

Embry looks between us, discomfort slightly showing on his face, which left me a bit confused.

The drive back to my house was a bit awkward.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“I just... I got the vibe that you and Paul hit it off really well. Which would be fine, but he’s a bit of a... player. I just, I don’t want you to go through that. He’s a great friend, but he’s not a good boyfriend.” Embry gently tells me, looking into my eyes with his chocolate brown ones.

“I see.” I swallow, looking out the window.

I was unsure of what to say. Paul seemed like a nice guy, but Embry wouldn’t steer me wrong.

Over the next few weeks, I began to spend more and more time with them all. I grew to adore them more than I ever thought I would, they were just as important to me as Embry was now, my romantic feelings finally subsiding for him. Quil quickly became the impish friend that Embry told me he’d be, Jared was an absolute clown, Jake was beyond friendly, very caring.

And well Paul... Paul was someone that really left me blushing almost constantly. He hung onto every word that left my mouth, and I did the same for him. He was sweeter than sugar to me, even if he was less of that to the rest of the group and everyone else. He had a certain softness in his voice, in his body language with me. Paul talked to me like I was the only person in the room, but Embry’s warning loomed over me like clouds over the rainy Forks sky.

As time went on, Embry warned me again. He even spoke to Paul about it, apparently. Paul had told me about it one night while we were talking just the two of us. We begun to hang out just the two of us, yet I never let him call it a date as per Embry’s warning.

While he was at first surprised I wouldn’t go on a date with him, he was persistent because he knew how I felt. He knew the connection we had. He was upset that I always reciprocated the flirting, but was always far too hesitant to make any larger moves.

“Embry, I haven’t seen any other girls since you brought her to hang out.”

“I don’t know Paul... I don’t want (Y/N) to be the same as every other girl for you.”

“She’s not, she’s different. You know that. I really like her, I never felt this before. She won’t say yes unless you’re okay with it.”

“Don’t make me regret this, Paul.”

“You won’t.”

Paul would hold my hand when I would get scared during horror movie night. He would pick me up for hangouts for the pure fact that he could drive me home, despite me being able to drive and having my own car. He would give me his hoodies when I would grow cold, whispering about how they looked better on me than him. Paul grew protective over me, always making sure that every adventure we took together, he would be there to make sure I stayed in one piece due to my clumsiness. Paul truly thought I was this fragile piece of glass that could shatter at any moment.

He would surprise me with my favorite drink from Starbucks when I was having a rough day at work. The way he would always have to touch me, whether that be resting an arm around my shoulder, holding my hand, or resting a hand on my thigh or lower back. All of the above sending my nerves in a frenzy. He was protective, slightly jealous. He didn’t like when guys checked me out, so he made it known I was his when he would press a kiss to my lips, then smirking at them, pulling me into him.

I loved the feeling of when he would pull me into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around me. The way he held me at night, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world-- it was a beautiful feeling. It was crazy to hear the stories of the hot-headed boy, because with me he wasn’t like that. He was patient, kind, and loving to no end. Did he have his moments where his temper would flare up? Of course. Everyone does, but I tried to help him get to where he wanted his temper to be. We worked on new ways to cope, we made a lot of progress for him.

He was everything you could ask for in a guy, he was nothing Embry warned me about. Everyone noticed that Paul had softened immensely, he was calmed down. He was “whipped” according to the guys, which I didn’t stop him from kicking Jacob’s ass for that one.

“Damn, Paul. (Y/N) trained you well.” Quil teases, only to be pulled into a headlock.

Our first kiss was sweet, it was gentle. Paul’s large hands held my face like he was holding the most fragile thing in the world. He treated me like a princess.

“Wanna go get lunch before we hang out with everyone? I’m buying.” He offers.

“Sure, but you’re not buying my lunch.” I giggle over the phone.

“Why not? It’ll be a date.” He chimes.

“I don’t know... What’s in it for me?”

“Uh, going on a date with the hottest and sweetest guy in all of La Push.”

“Oh, Jacob’s taking me on a date?” I tease, knowing that would drive him a little nuts.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He chuckles into the phone.

“I just might be, when’re you picking me up, Lahote?” I giggle.

“I’m actually outside already. Surprise.”

So we went out to lunch, and it was really fun. It always was a fun time with Paul. Going to hang out with the guys was great, though something was off with Jared. He played it off, continuing to tease Paul and I.

Embry grew to support Paul and I, though he told me he was my second pair of eyes. He was watching Paul like a hawk, hoping he wouldn’t break my fragile heart.

But when Jared got sick with mono and stopped coming around, I had to be there for him. He was beyond hurt when he saw Jared hanging out with Sam Uley. Why would he up and leave the group? No explanation, nothing. Jared avoided all of us like the plague.

Paul was devastated. That was his best friend, how could Jared lie to him? How could he ditch him like it was nothing?

The issue was, is that Paul had a hard time expressing his emotions. Even though he was sad about the situation, he grew to be angry. He would huff and puff, pacing the room, yelling about how Jared was being an asshole and how he had no idea what to do.

It was fine, really. You knew that he was going through the ringer and he still treated you like a princess.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t even realize how much I was yelling.” He would apologize, walking over to you sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to calm down after your attempts to do so were futile.

“I understand, you’re going through a rough time right now. But I’m here for you.” I smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I love you.” He presses his forehead against mine.

“I love you, too.”

Chills ran up my spine, I had felt butterflies like never before. Paul gave me feelings I never knew existed.

But soon, he grew feverish. His skin was burning hot and he grew testy. He snapped at everyone, and seemingly for the littlest of things. I thought it was strange, as this was a side of Paul I had never seen. We had to leave Jake’s one night, as he grew incredibly protective over me... almost animalistic. He almost lost it on Quil when he started play fighting with me, I just took him out of there, leaving the guys in the garage. I was met with concerned eyes all around, but I knew Paul wouldn’t hurt me... I just had no idea what had gotten into him.

He held onto me like his life depended on it.

“I’m scared, (Y/N).” He whispered into my neck.

“Why Paul?”

“Jared and Sam... they look like they’re waiting for me. I can’t stand it-- they’re hovering over me all the time. I can’t deal with it.” He huffs.

His feverish skin almost burning mine, just as it had been the last few days.

“I’m sorry Paul, maybe try to avoid them?” I offer up my advice, but it met with a mere sigh from his lips.

“They keep telling me I have to break away from everyone. That I’ll have to leave the friend group, that I’ll have to leave you. They’re lucky I didn’t kick their asses.” He huffs.

His words shocked me, they left me speechless. Why would they be saying that?

“Why would they say that?”

“Hell if I knew. I just ran out of there before I punched someone. I know you don’t like when I hit people.” He chuckles.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” I smirk.

But I couldn’t shake his words, I didn’t understand why they wanted him? Why they wanted him to cut us all off?

He soon fell asleep while I rubbed circles into his back, trying to soothe him once again. I heard my phone go off on the table next to me.

It was Embry asking if I was okay, to which I told him yeah. He didn’t need to know the worries plaguing my brain.

But the next few days, Paul got sicker. He started changing before my eyes, growing insanely fast. His body temperature continued to climb. He told me that Sam and Jared wouldn’t leave him alone, but he was only getting angrier at them and holding onto me tighter.

“They keep saying they don’t want me to hurt you.” He would sigh, his face visibly distressed.

And then told me that I couldn’t see him for a while. He cut off all the guys completely, and I hadn’t heard from him since; he wasn’t even answering my texts.

Embry was worried sick about me, despite everyone being upset at Paul’s sudden change and departure from our lives. He would come and check up on me, absolutely stunned to see the shifting moods I had.

One minute, I was fine and 110% certain that Paul wouldn’t up and leave with no warning, and the next I was a blubbering mess. Embry did his best to make sure that I wasn’t left alone for too long, as he was afraid I would become the next comatose Bella Swan. I mean, kudos to him for caring but that wouldn’t happen. Or maybe just yet, as the longer Paul was gone the less I seemed to care about anything else. It just felt like a part of me was gone, like the puzzle piece fitting my heart together was missing.

So a few days later, I made some of his favorite soup and made my way over to his house.

I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. It was locked so I couldn’t let myself in, but I knew where Paul’s bedroom window was. I peeked through and saw him peacefully sprawled out on his bed, the sight bringing both relief and a smile to my face. But then I heard some whooping noises from the back of his house, causing me to investigate.

I look and see none other than the infamous Sam Uley and Jared Cameron, he looked very different since the last time I had saw him. It felt like forever ago since that night.

“(Y/N), what’re you doing here?” Sam asks with a concerned tone.

“I needed to see Paul.” I demand.

“Go home, (Y/N). He doesn’t want you to come around anymore, he doesn’t want to be with you anymore.” Jared looks deep into my eyes, his words punching me in the gut.

His eyes were hard, as were his features, but I knew he was full of shit. But the words still hurt for just a second. For just a second.

“What the hell are you guys doing to him?” I look at them with eyes set to kill.

“What? What did he tell you?” Jared asks, eyes widening with concern.

“Calm down.” Sam urges, putting a hand out in front of Jared.

“He won’t tell me anything anymore.” I hiss. “But before he stopped answering me he was so afraid of you guys! Always following him around, telling him what to do. Telling him to stay away before he hurts me! Paul would never hurt me, asshole!”

I was fuming now, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop myself. Paul was a tough guy, nothing really broke him like their warnings and constant following did. The sudden changes he was experiencing, he had no idea of what to make of it as he was given no answers.

“I watched him change in front of my very eyes, this is beyond some bullshit about him wanting to leave me, Jared. This is not normal.” I stomp my way over to them.

“(Y/N), stay back.” Sam’s hand gestures up to me. “Jared, calm down.”

“Sam, don’t. I’m done with this, I want my boyfriend back. Jared, what the hell got into you, too?” I raise my voice at him, causing him to flinch.

“Hello? Earth to Jared Cameron? What’s your deal now, asshole?” I yell again, poking his bare chest.

But that’s when rage took over Jared’s body. Something I had never seen before. Jared was always goofy, so nice. I had really only seen Paul so angry, and even then-- this was a different level.

“(Y/N), move back now.” Sam yells.

This time, I listened. I took some hesitant steps back, almost tripping over my own feet.

Jared’s body was almost vibrating at this point, that’s how fast it was shaking. I just stared in awe, Sam’s voice was booming, though.

“(Y/N), move back!” He yells again.

I bring myself to take a few more steps back, but this time I did trip over my feet.

Jared suddenly moved like he was bursting out of his own skin, and in some way he did. Sam pushed him back to create some more distance, but overall in the end-- Jared turned into an enormous wolf. An enormous wolf that snarled at me, but overall didn’t do anything to hurt me.

“What the hell?” I blink my eyes, before running towards Paul house.

That’s when I see Paul running towards the situation.

“Paul, run!” I say, trying to grab a hold onto him, but he gently, but very quickly, shook me off.

He too, burst out of his own skin, turning into a giant wolf.

“What?” I whisper to myself.

I watch as Paul jumps onto Jared, listening to their snarls and growling. I stared astonished, as Sam looks over at me with sympathetic eyes.

After a few moments, Sam orders them to stop. And they did, they walked into the woods and came out with some jean shorts on.

“Come here.” Sam says, helping me off the ground.

“Is this... is this what was going on?” I breathe out.

“Yeah, you’re gonna learn a lot today.” He sighs, clearly unhappy about me knowing.

“I’m sorry.” Jared exhales. “It’s hard to control your anger when this starts, and then I had to lie and everything. I’m just sorry.” He smiles softly.

“All good, understood now.” I smirk.

Though I was still uneasy. What did all this mean?

“Paul?” I merely whisper, looking up at his face.

He had grown a lot, got even more muscular since I had last seen him. But he refused to meet my gaze.

“Paul, please look at me.” I beg, reaching out to grab his forearm.

He hesitates, almost afraid to.

“Paul if you think I’m afraid of you, I’m not. Please look at me.” My pleading voice almost cracking.

I needed to see those deep brown eyes I had loved so much. The ones that brought me endless joy, endless love. But he wouldn’t budge.

“That’s not what I’m afraid of right now.” He chuckles sadly.

He was still looking over my head, refusing to meet my gaze.

“You owe it to the both of you to figure it out, Paul.” Sam nods.

“What? What’re you talking about.” I turn to Sam.

But as I turn my head to look back at Paul, I finally caught his gaze. A small smile crept on his face, until our eyes met.

That’s when his jaw fell slack, his face completely softened. It was like he was stuck in a daze of sorts.

But what I felt was good. I felt like the world had stopped spinning, I felt like Sam and Jared were gone, it was only Paul and I. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as this overwhelmingly great feeling pressurized around my entire body. This was something far more intense than what Paul and I usually had felt, and even before I thought we had intense feelings.

No, this was different.

I had no idea how to even stand anymore, I felt like my knees were going to give out.

“Finally, some good news.” Jared huffs, grabbing both of us out of our trance.

“Okay, please explain things.” I look back to Paul.

“Okay.” He breathes a sigh of relief, before he pulls me into a rib crushing hug, spinning me around.

I felt the air leave my lungs, this actually hurt. He sometimes accidentally hugged me too hard, but this was surreal.

My breath hitched as I whimpered out and “ow” which caused Paul to quickly let go, profusely apologizing.

“Sorry, I forget my own strength. Still not completely used to it.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Okay, so let me get this straight. Vampires run rampant through Forks and the rest of the Olympic Peninsula? Right, so that’s what made you guys phase. And then you can’t be around people for a while because it’s an enormous secret that only the pack and their imprints can know. And Paul imprinted on me, but I still don’t know what that exactly means, but we can go over that. But then, you guys protect everyone from said vampires and destroy them. Now you’re super warm and strong and the rest of the group you expect to join soon? Because you all have it in your blood?” I ask, looking at Sam.

“Well, you seem to really listen. But yes, It’s likely that Quil and Jacob will, we don’t know so much about Embry but it’s possible. Has he been acting strange?” Sam raises an eyebrow.

“He texted me about a fever earlier, but he’s been normal enough.”

“Well, you suddenly disappearing might set him off.” Jared chuckles.

“What? I can’t see him anymore?”

“Not until he phases, any of them. The secret is important.” Sam looks at me with empathetic eyes, Paul’s hand immediately resting on my lower back.

“I have to disappear out of my best friends’ lives? I don’t even phase!”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s too much of a risk right now. Over time, we’ll see what happens.”

My heart sank, how would they forgive me for disappearing indefinitely? For blowing them off? I was growing anxious at the thought.

“They’ll forgive you when they understand, it just takes time.” Sam nods.

“Okay.” I whisper.

“Alright, Paul. Explain imprinting.” Jared smirks, looking over at us.

“Right now?” Paul looks at Sam, but Sam only nods his head, signaling for him to begin explaining.

“Paul? Just talk to me, we always talk about anything and everything.” I lay my hand on his comfortingly.

He seemingly melted at my touch, just as always.

“Well, the thing is, it’s not our choice. And I want you to hear me out before you say anything, please.”

“Of course.” I grew nervous at his words, but I knew that was nervous, too.

“Well, so it happens to some of us, not all of us get so ‘lucky,’ if you will. It happens when you see a certain person for the first time after you phase. When you look into their eyes, it’s just... it’s pure bliss. You just know, you know it’s your soulmate. But, that doesn’t mean romantic, it could be platonic. In reality, it’s up to them. But for us, you’d do anything, be anything for them. A friend, protector, a lover. We just... we need to be near them. I need to be near you, and I always did, even before all of this complicated shit. I was always protective, but I can’t imagine I’ll ease up, it’ll probably get worse so I’m sorry in advance, but overall, I want you to know that you hold the reigns.” He softly smiles, looking into my eyes with a pleading look.

“Oh, I see.” I murmur, looking down at my hand for a second, trying to process the situation.

His face fell, and it looked like someone punched him in the gut, Jared and Sam grew a bit worried.

“Wait, that wasn’t me rejecting you. I’m just... I’m thinking. It’s just a lot to take in. I love you, more than anything. I’m glad it was me and not someone else, I am. As long as you’re happy about that. But I just need to understand it. I feel a physical pull to you, so I feel it, too.” I smile softly, thinking about when he refused to look into my eyes.

“I’m very happy that it was you.” He grabs onto my hand.

“So why didn’t you want to look into my eyes?” I mumble.

“Because I didn’t want to bare the thought of it not happening with you, though I don’t think I could change anything about us, ever. Imprint or not, (Y/N), you’re stuck with me.” He chuckled. “But only if you want me.”

“Of course I want you.” I nudge his shoulder.

After that, it was just playing the waiting game, waiting for my best friends to phase, too. I was left with so many calls and texts I couldn’t answer. Embry showing up to my house, knocking to no avail. Leaving, sadness deep in his eyes. Though, he eventually became angry. I knew he was going to phase soon, I watched from afar how he was growing more hostile, and how he was changing physically. Soon, I’d have my best friend back.

Paul was right, he grew more protective, more worried about my every move. It was clear to us all that he was more protective than Sam and Jared were over Emily and Kim. It was easier to understand everything with Kim and Emily being apart of this all, as they knew where I was coming from.

But, it was the waiting game that was killing me. Thankfully, Paul was around to pick up the pieces after leaving my best friends behind, no notice given. He held me when I grew sad, feeling guilty for having to leave their lives.

Paul was unwavering, loving me endlessly. __________________________________ Word Count: 4796

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #embry call #embry call x reader #quil ateara #jared cameron #sam uley #jacob black #leah clearwater #seth clearwater #twilight

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imaginationofacrazyfangirl · 3 years

Text

Plotlines of BTS Music Videos According to My Drunk Ass

Just to be clear I am not promoting drinking to minors or anything like that. Plus I am of age so whatever.

Music Video 1: Fire

Let’s just put it out there that the whole plot of the music video is about a group of hooligans causing trouble around their neighbor hood. Moreover it starts with them and the reader hanging out at the town’s youth center. Supposedly they all (except Jimin) have grown up together, learning how to survive the streets and deal with the shit life’s thrown at them.

Now onto the key characters:

Min Yoongi: The badass gangster who enjoys causing chaos and mischief. He’s the one who creates the most drama by actively engaging in criminal activities simply for the fun of it. He constantly tags buildings and picks fights with other people. Think of it this way: Yoongi is the one everyone watches out for, because he has no problem meeting a pipe to your face.

That said naturally his character is rather antagonistic and anti-social as well. While he does care about the members of his group, Hoseok is the only one he truly trusts to let in. Moreover his relationship with the reader is that of an older brother who finds their sibling annoying so they constantly bully them; that said anyone who messes with you better watch the fuck out. You are his pest after all.

Jung Hoseok: The brotherly bad boy who has way too much fun being naughty. Both Yoongi and J-hope share one thing in common, they enjoy being bad boys. However while Yoongi leans more towards apathetic chaos, J-hope merely enjoys the thrill and status comes along with the title. He is the type to cause trouble when others are watching or his friends are there, but never the one to plan it. Honestly Hoseok is a bit of a ladies man always bragging about his reputation to impress, but really he does that to everyone.

He’s officially the group’s hype man. The one everyone trusts immensely, because at the end of the day what Hoseok is really proud of is his family (you guys) and does everything he can to protect/make you guys happy. Like Yoongi, Hoseok acts as a big brother figure towards. Unlike Yoongi, he’s always thrilled to see you.

Jeon Jungkook: The innocent newbie corrupted by his “big brothers,” probably rather self-explanatory. As the youngest Jungkook wasn’t around when the group started (the group being you and the Maknae line). In fact he’s the latest addition to the neighborhood, moving there with either his single mother or foster parents. At first the poor boy is so out of place in the neighborhood dealing with life and constantly bullies, it only adds to his misfortune that you meet him. Yes, you the reader can be blamed for introducing Jungkook into thug life (lol thug life); not purposefully of course you simply saw the baby bunny and took him under your wing. If anything you try to protect him, while keeping Jungkook away from all the trouble.

To Jungkook, you are the mother/older sister figure he has never had. He cares deeply for you, practically following you around like a lost duckling. However Jungkook also idolizes the others and wishes to become like them. Thus, causing him to get into trouble.

Kim Namjoon: The muscles-first off let me say how sorry I am for this. Joon is legit my ultimate basis and the smartest of them all yet he plays the meathead in this plotline. Why? Oh god why? I don’t know, but he does.

Namjoon is the second member of the group no one wants to piss off. Not because of any sociopathic tendencies like Yoongi, but because Namjoon punches harder than the six of them combined. He’s literally the armored shield that steps in between members and those who threaten them. Now I don’t have as much facts on him as the others, but I can say this: Namjoon is a follower not a leader here, and like Yoongi, he find you annoying-although he is less antagonistic about than other is. Also like Yoongi, he’ll beat the living shit out of anyone who messes with you.

Kim Taehyung: The introverted computer genius who prefers technology over people. In this plotline our bubbly Tae, plays an awkward anti-social computer genius who really doesn’t know how to interact with people on a massive level. Remember that character in tv shows, that is friends with everyone despite having odd tendencies and never leaving home? Well, that Taehyung. He spends most of his days playing computer or videogames, only to occasionally come up with some genius deceive or program that helps the group out. To outsiders, he’s a freak, but to the group he’s their family and no one mess with family.

While Taehyung barely interacts with the others, the one person he does interact with is the reader. This is mainly because of your caring nature and patience. Out of everyone, you more than anyone accept his quirks. Which is why he has such a crush on you. Sadly our poor Tae won’t make the cut in this plotline.

Park Jimin: The stereotypical prep who pays the group to join them in their mischief. Now we are getting close to the heart of the story. Although not the antagonist of the plotline, Jimin definitely gets the ball rolling by bribing you guys into letting him join the group for a week or two. This boy is literally that rich kid rolling around in daddy’s money, but find life a bore. Like many others he idolizes the trouble you get into and wants in on that bad boy life. Initially he annoys everyone, but by some miracle he actually manages join by earning your guys’ trust somehow.

Note you and him have an especially rocky relationship at first, thanks to his flirty ‘I’m hot’ attitude. To him, you are different from all the other girls. You are from the other side of the track making you a forbidden fruit. To you, he’s just a moron who doesn’t realize how good he has it.

Kim Seokjin: Ex-leader gone Captain America, he is the definition of bad boy gone good. Once the esteemed leader of your group of misfits, Jin now finds himself determined to move away from crime and go to college by playing sports. He wants to prove to you all, that succeeding in life is a possibility without committing crimes. This goal especially means a lot to him, because Jin sees himself as responsible for everyone in the group .Unfortunately turning over a new leaf has left him alienating the group and in turn getting alienated by them. He constantly struggles between staying on the righteous path and not involving himself in group matters. (Note: he can never stay away when one of you are in danger.)

What’s really interesting about Jin’s character is his relationship with you. Out of everyone in the group you are the one he cares most about. In fact it can be said you are the reason behind his drastic change and determination to leave the neighbor hood. Ironically though that doesn’t mean you understand his actions or reasonings. To you, abandoning everyone is unforgivable and you two often go head to head on your beliefs. In the end however, Jin is the love interest of this plotline.

.........Also they have a band..........

Anyway that was extremely embarrassing to write, but I hope you enjoy my crazy plotlines and let me know if you want to read about the other ones I have.

#bts #jimin #min yoongi #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #jeon jungkook #Jung HoSeok #hoseok #jin #park jimin #bts imagines #jin x reader #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #jimin x reader

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cyberfairyblog · 3 years

Text

Why Jillian Sucks

Hi, welcome to Odyssey Mystery Hour! I'm your host @gritsandbrits and today I'll be talking about a hot topic in the AIO fandom! Wanna know the tea? Keep on reading!

In the weeks I started getting back into the radio series, the newer episodes have started to irk me, mostly because of one of the more annoying additions: Jillian. Marshall. 😬😬😬

Even though I ship Jason with my self insert OC this not going to be about her. There's a lot of reasons why I do NOT like the idea of Jillian x Jason becoming a canon thing on the show. I hope to describe these feelings as best I can.

Who is Jillian you might ask?

Well to put it simply, Jillian is what happens when a Soccer Mom and a TikTok boyfriend mate and spawn an unholy baby and name them Rachel Berry. Out of the aspects of Nu!Odyssey I dislike, Jillian is the one thing I truly despise. Thankfully I've met fans who share the exact sentiment! 😁😒

Double-N Annoying, Double-O Nincompoop

Making her debut in 2018, Jillian is described as lively and upbeat, if a little high strung and immature; the perfect recipe for Kid Appeal! Before she moved to Odyssey she lived in different cities and worked nineteen jobs before becoming roommates with Connie and her sister Jules.

Now this is actually a fairly interesting set up: a new character struggling to find purpose only to discover it in a quaint small town. But as it turns out her going through that many jobs seems to be more than just struggling to find purpose.

When I first saw her design my thought immediately went to the smarmy classmates I went to school with.

We're introduced with this iconic line: "Hi!! I'm Jillian Marshall, double-L Jillian, double-L Marshall! It's so nice to meet you!"

With that one sentence I knew I was about to die.

The following episode has Jillian bumbling through every job interview much to Connie's duress after which she conveniently ending up working at Triple J Antiques...the same place Jason works!

A little backstory on Jason: he is the adult son of John Whittaker, one of the show's main character, and a bit of an Ensemble Darkhorse. He was introduced as a secret agent meant to bring action and intrigue into the show. He was set up as a charismatic and reckless sort of guy clashing with the calmer Jack Allen. After the Green Ring Conspiracy Saga, Jason officially retired from James Bonding and settled down to work at the Allen's antique shop.

Given his immense popularity there's understandable concern for how he is written and who he gets paired up with. So what does that have to do with Jillian.

Well, the idea of Jillian working at the same exact place as Odyssey's resident bachelor and calling him cute raises a few eyebrows.

"B-but Grits all she did was call him cute! You're reaching too far into this!"

Am I? Look I know this wouldn't be much of a big deal too but that is a subtle tactic the writers threw in to get the cogs turning for Jillison. Jason is clearly uninterested and even implied to dislike her. Jillian bemoans this but Connie reassures her that that's not the case. But hey at least she called him cute so OF COURSE she's going to end up being his love interest!

To me removing a character's core trait to justify a romance means you do NOT know how to actually write a compelling romance. It's trite, it's forced and painful to listen to.

It's also obvious she's a replacement for Bernard, given they have similar personalities and her brief stint on TV (which she also failed at lol). But whereas Bernard was actually endearing, Jillian seems more of a cliche womanchild with zero self awareness and tact. No actual depth, just a personality that is incredibly dumbed down and even insulting. Seriously they made her the dumb blond stereotype in an era where we should've moved on from that! 🤦

Did I mention she goes to church?

Yep she's gonna be one of those Christians.

Literally Loveless, Literally!

Oddly enough the narrative frames this as a rivals to lovers thing, where Jason is both the charismatic friendly guy and the super uninterested Straight Man. The constant twisting the turning makes him go OOC. See we know he's fit better as the former because that goes in line with his canon personality. But when they make him the latter he just comes off as unnecessarily mean. This is turns frames Jillian as someone we should pity: "Oh the attractive male doesn't like me because I went into his office without permission!!"

Wouldn't it make more sense for Jillian to be the one uninterested in a romance since her focus in to find a job/better purpose and romance might distract her? That would make a fun subplot...IF SHE WASN'T OBNOXIOUS!

A pattern I noticed and several fans pointed out: Jason's previous love interests were consistent in that they were strong minded women who challenged him in different ways. Their personalities bounced off creating a fun dynamic that was entertaining to see. Even though they didn't end up with him, you can still see and hear and feel their chemistry which is my goal for Jason x OC. Tasha doesn't make Jason OOC & they had a bittersweet arc, so their interactions were organic. Monica only made him OOC because she was a villain actively manipulating him. So again that worked in terms of story and led to Monica's redemption if my memory serves.

However, Jillian's dynamic is not that fun to listen to. You can feel her annoying Jason through the airwaves. She's strong but only in the sense of feeling something hard underneath your back laying on the bed and realizing that's just your earbud. She's vibrant yes but what else? She doesn't have any unique traits to contrast Jason, and any attempt at a contrast would mean making him act out of character. Adding her bumbling clumsiness and annoying voice, Jason would get tired of her very quickly. He's the type to go for people to have intelligent conversations with, not make him lose braincells. She could very well bring out the worse in him, it'll be an unhealthy relationship.

Here's a tidbit worth mentioning: the VA for Jillian actually auditioned with Jason's VA Townsend Coleman. Now that is big ass red flag right there! No hate towards the actress, just throwing that out there. There's also a facebook page dedicated to Jillison. Typical FB stupidity ramped up to eleven, or AIO fans who see something in Jillian; or at least THINk they see something worthwhile in her.

It doesn't help the writers keep insisting that these two go well together. The audience knows they do not work well as a pair but the narrative keeps insisting they are anyways. I recall an episode that had them pretend to be married while undercover and it was bad. Like REALLY humiliating to see Jason put in that position. He also told her to shut up much to my joy because she could NOT stop being irritating for five minutes. Alas the show still tries to justify Jillian being the Perfect Woman for Jason when she's anything but. And not even endearingly imperfect.

Follow Up

These tags I wrote on one of the AIO posts describes how I feel about Villain Marshall and the Jillison coupling as a whole. It just wouldn't work because Jason needs someone that can actually CHALLENGE him, have their own personality that can bounce off his (without being forced), and most importantly DOESN'T AGGRAVATE THE FANDOM!!

I have not met a single person anywhere that say they like Jillian. It's a different story apparently on the Club App - they like her for reasons I'm too cowardly to find out. But no, she sucks as a character. She makes a annoying friend, and is not a good addition to the show, much less a good love interest.

The only good thing she brought us are the nicknames we gave her 😌

That's all for now thank you for tuning into the Odyssey Mystery Hour. Next week I'll be talking a bit more about my OC Vanessa and her role in the world of Odyssey! Goodbye and make sure to lock your doors to prevent Jillian from coming in!!

#adventures in odyssey #jason whittaker #anti jillison #aio #rant #radio drama #adventures in odyssey radio show #jillian marshall #anti jillian marshall

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chocosvt · 4 years

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connect!universe extra

⚬ pairing: cyborg!hansol x reader | future!au ⚬ word count: 6482 ⚬ warnings: alcohol consumption ⚬ genres: angst, heavy fluff, mutual pining, elements of a futuristic/dystopian society

✧✎ synopsis: hansol is the first cyborg you’ve ever met. he seems human enough, but clearly a little damaged on the inside, and you wonder if he’s ever known what it’s like to be loved.

✧✎ a/n: can you BELIEVE that this is only my second vern fic? he’s one of those members where i can think of multiple plotlines for him, but struggle in writing all. i’ve wanted to try a cyborg/futurey au since like three yrs ago lol, so i hope this came out well ,,,,

You poked the plastic spoon further into the cold cup, trying to search for a small chunk of strawberry buried under the soft, vanilla peaks. In actuality, you already purged all the strawberries out from the ice cream; you were only pretending to look occupied so that you could escape the awkward aura of being next to this cyborg you met an hour ago, the two of you sat on a ridiculously uncomfortable curb outside a dessert parlor, beneath the midnight sky. It was an unorthodox situation. You wondered where your friends went.

From the tentative corner of your eye, you glanced at Hansol’s half-emptied cup of cookie dough ice cream. The parlor behind you had closed down, though the night street still flooded with a twinkling, neon spectacle, the additional hovercraft humming high above as they travelled along the aerial space-paths. You continued staring at Hansol’s cookie dough. If it had been Changkyun or Yoojung sitting next to you, then you would have already dipped in your spoon and tasted each other’s ice cream as tradition. It would be too weird to ask Hansol.

Scraping some vanilla ice cream onto your tongue, you swallowed thickly and decided to initiate conversation again, even if it was just prevaricated nonsense to beat the time.

“Is cookie dough your favourite flavour?” You questioned Hansol, though stared at the loose laces on your sneakers rather than him.

Hansol started shaking his leg as he shrugged. “I like chocolate too. And cheesecake.”

“So you have a sweet tooth?”

“I guess, yeah.”

Okay – well that was officially the dying spark of another conversation. You were uncertain if he was anxious, shy, perhaps socially awkward, or maybe he was attempting to signal that he just didn’t like you. It was quite rare to encounter a cyborg. Ever since you could remember, they had an uncordial notion of being dangerous, sinister. They were meant to be contained in laboratories as a government order, so technologists could perform their invasive studies. You didn’t know if Hansol was an escapee or a discarded project, nor was it your place to ask.

The strawberry ice cream was beginning to melt into pink and white puddles the more you stirred. One last time, you attempted to maintain some sort of conversation with the cyborg.

“So where do you live? I’ve never seen you around before.”

That time, you made the effort to stare at him, a hazy and violet light bathing the sharp side of the boy’s face and igniting features you hadn’t noticed beforehand. His eyelashes were long, resembling gentle fern leaves, and he had a very strictly cut line defining his jaw. Through the coarse layers of his dark brown hair, you noted small, inked numbers were tattooed just in front of his ear, though you pretended you hadn’t been looking there when he faced you.

“I don’t have a place.” Hansol said nonchalantly, poking the spoon into his cookie dough. “I’m kind of a floater.”

Your eyes widened, though you couldn’t help it.

“Really? But you do have a job. You’ve never tried renting a motel room or something?”

He shook his head and shoved a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. From what Yoojung had told you, Hansol worked with her at her dad’s auto-repair business, prompting you to wonder if she knew the boy was homeless. Knowing he wasn’t surrounded by the comfort of a family had already caused a pulsing ache in your heart, and you felt somewhat obliged to help.

“Does Yoojung know?”

Hansol hesitated slightly, licking the sweet taste of the ice cream from his lips.

“No.” He finally answered in a torpid manner.

There was a stiff bit of silence, and then the boy was looking directly at you, his knee and elbow so close to yours that they kept bumping together. His eyes, which were usually as brown as a square of dark chocolate, were suddenly beaming in a shade of ice blue. You had never seen such a thing before, and yet you could sense the anxiety rippling from him in invisible waves.

“You aren’t going to tell her, right?”

Your throat felt incredibly dry as you shook your head, heightening your desire to stick a large spoonful of softening strawberry swirl in your mouth for some form of moisture.

“If you haven’t told her then I won’t either.” You replied, making sure to maintain eye contact.

Immediately, Hansol relaxed, the ice blue that glowed from his gaze slowly fading away until the familiar brown replaced it. Even though you assured Hansol his secret was safe, it didn’t thwart your disquieting feelings from echoing throughout your chest, though you attempted to swallow them with the pink dessert that just liquidized onto your tongue. You two continued eating in silence underneath the white stars, Changkyun and Yoojung still nowhere in sight.

“Y’know,” you began quietly, “we just met and all that… but I definitely wouldn’t mind if you stayed at my place for a few days. And I wouldn’t let Yoojung know a thing.”

For the first time that night, you saw the faint beginnings of a smile pull at the boy’s lips, and despite him staring straight at his sneakers you managed to catch a glimpse of rose light emanating from his eyes. He didn’t look at you until the pretty hue completely died away.

“I don’t want to bother you.” Hansol admitted, his gaze tracing your warm expression.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t. It’s just me and a powder puff cactus I bought last month.”

It took a couple of seconds or so, but the boy eventually nodded, and an immense relief toiled away the discomfort that earlier plagued your chest. The air no longer felt so awkward, in which you had been pointlessly scavenging for strawberry slices in your ice cream just to feign some degree of distraction. In fact, you made an offer you would have never anticipated when your night with the cyborg first began: you asked Hansol if he wanted to try your strawberry swirl.

“Okay,” he obliged, “wanna taste some cookie explosion?”

You switched cups and scooped some of his cookie dough ice cream. There weren’t any cookie chunks left amongst the chocolate-vanilla mixture, and you wanted to laugh upon thinking that he must have been doing the same as you.

“You’re walking home with him? Are you sure…? Are you sure that’s like, a good idea?”

Your face quickly warped into an expression of bewilderment as you stood across from Changkyun, who was clearly apprehensive to have Hansol walk you home. That was the fake story you told your friends, and you had expected it to pass with flying colours, though you came to a roadblock due to your ex-boyfriend seeming petulant. Yoojung was close with Hansol therefore she depicted no air of disagreement. She gave Changkyun a steely side-eye and partly stepped on his foot.

Folding your arms over your chest, you cocked your head. “What are you implying, Changkyun?”

The young man dug his hands into the deep pockets of his coat and gave a casual shrug, his gaze following a distant hovercraft that whirred quietly in the skies above.

“I’m just saying that—”

“He’s saying I’m not safe.” Hansol cut in, though not with any contempt or bitterness. “I understand. Not the first time I’ve heard it.”

The rebut locked onto your tongue was instantly forgotten, to which you glanced at Hansol with a soft sympathy. He was awfully calm, not upset, not angry, just calm.

Yoojung groaned loudly, throwing her head back. “Oh, for crying out loud. Changkyun, he’s not some lump of artificial intelligence that got thrown together by a mad scientist and now he’s out to obliterate mankind. He’s a good kid with some bionics in his arm. Get over it, would you?”

A scarlet colour mottled in the apples of Changkyun’s cheeks and he dragged a hand through his slick black hair, disrupting its style. You looked to Yoojung appreciatively, who was already beginning to wind her arm around Changkyun’s elbow so that you could be on your separate ways. It was an hour past midnight, a thick drowsiness resting just behind your eyelids, blurring the purple-blue neon lights. A part of you still loved Changkyun, yet the other often festered in uncertainty.

“Goodnight guys.” Yoojung said with a tired smile.

“Night.” You and Hansol murmured in unison.

When Changkyun remained silent, Yoojung stepped on his foot again with her red sneaker.

“G-Goodnight.” He was forced to mumble. Changkyun then looked at you, nodding at the slim cellphone tucked in your hand. “Text me when you get home.”

“Okay.” You replied in a small, plain voice, chewing on your bottom lip while watching them walk away down the street together.

The guilt was bubbling like a disastrous magma beneath your skin, continuously growing hotter as you introduced Hansol to the couch in your living room. Changkyun certainly didn’t represent your own morality, and you were still a little overwhelmed that he would make such a piteous remark, especially to Hansol’s face. Maybe it came from a place of care, affection, perhaps even jealousy. The person who made that comment wasn’t the Changkyun you knew, the Changkyun you loved, and you felt obliged to apologize on his behalf, despite knowing it should come him rather than you.

Hansol sat down on the couch while observing curiously around the room. You couldn’t help but think he was adorable, and you wondered if Yoojung was telling the truth about the bionics in his arm. For his eyes to adapt sensory colours, you knew he must have a chip implant too.

“Sorry, no extra clothes.” You told Hansol after handing him a fleece blanket and a pillow.

As he fluffed the pillow out against the arm of the couch, you sat down on the coffee table.

“I just want to apologize… For what Changkyun said. He’s not that type of person, I think he made a comment like that because it’s still a bit weird between us, and he wasn’t using his head.”

Hansol’s indifferent countenance made it difficult for you to read if he was truly offended. He seemed like the easygoing type, one who doesn’t ruminate or tend toward conflict.

“Yoojung kind of filled me in about you guys,” he admitted, shaking his knee, “Changkyun still worries about you. I get it.”

You stared into the clasped hands on your lap, noting that you’d been unconsciously playing with the gems on your bracelet. It seemed like you both had your nervous ticks.

“Breakups are weird,” you sighed, “I don’t know if we should have stayed friends.”

Out of the blue your body grew rigid, and you wished to retract the words back into your mouth. Your relationship dilemmas weren’t something that should be pushed onto Hansol, a boy you just met, especially a matter so individualistic and personal. Rubbing the bleariness from your eyes, you let out a sleepy laugh, shaking your head in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that – It’s getting too late for my brain I guess.”

Hansol shrugged. “It’s fine. I should tell you I have to get up early tomorrow, for work.”

Conveniently, the auto-repair shop was within walking distance. You were happy that Hansol had been able to find employment, that Yoojung’s dad was kind enough to hire a cyborg, even when they were ultimately spurned for being metal projects and safety hazards.

You stopped tugging on your bracelet and looked at Hansol fondly. “Mr. Choi is so nice, right? He fixed my electro-board when I was little.”

Hansol sprouted in a timid smile. “He’s great. He’s the one who always fixes the circuit panel in my arm when it bugs. I couldn’t control it if it weren’t for him.”

Undeniably you were curious about what sort of bionics had been installed in Hansol’s body. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence to meet a cyborg, though you frequently heard tales about the different technology the laboratories were practicing. Androids were also in maintenance; however, they were a very clandestine operation, and people were known to disappear completely if they leaked information from inside the core. Still, it only fuelled your intrigue.

“Let me guess,” Hansol said, “you want to see my arm, don’t you?”

“Um…” Heat pricked into your cheeks and you failed to meet the boy’s knowing glance. “Only if you want to show me.” You responded bashfully.

“I don’t care,” Hansol huffed while he pulled his hoodie above his head, letting the fabric drop into a ball beside him on the couch, “you’re nice about it.”

Hansol placed the underside of his arm atop his leg, revealing that underneath the thin, synthetic layer of skin, there were bright circuit pathways glowing in different colours. You could see small signals blipping through them, passing onto other networks which travelled up his muscle until they disappeared under his shirt sleeve. Never had you witnessed anything so mesmerizing, so unparalleled, and you stared at Hansol’s arm in a childlike wonder.

Leaning forward slightly, you murmured, “how hard it is? Can I touch?”

“Yeah.” Hansol replied, regarding you with a gentle smile as your fingers pressed down cautiously on his forearm.

His skin was soft, warm, just like ordinary flesh, but then you immediately felt the metal bionic installed beneath and you became somewhat frightened of pressing too hard. There was one particular circuit that started at his wrist, which glowed in a pale lavender hue. You saw a tiny current fire from its sensory orb, and gently, with your fingertip, you traced the signal overtop Hansol’s skin until it faded away at the crease of his elbow. You sat back in awe and smiled.

“That’s amazing. They’re like veins.”

“Yeah, I thought that too.” He agreed.

The boy’s eyes were ignited in a sweet, bubblegum pink. You could only assume that pink had something to do with being flustered, or maybe a fast heartbeat. When you giggled, his cheeks flushed rosy like a cherub’s and Hansol stared straight down into his lap.

“I love how your eyes change colour,” you reassured him delicately, “you shouldn’t hide it.”

Hansol thanked you in a quiet voice, to which you could sense that he was nonetheless embarrassed.

“How does Yoojung’s dad get access to the panel?” You asked, changing the subject.

“I have to open it for him, like this.”

You jolted backward on the coffee table when a translucent, blue screen suddenly projected from the boy’s eyes. It was lined with unintelligible runes and peculiar symbols you had never seen before, some of which flickered by so quickly you didn’t get the opportunity to differentiate them. Somehow, Hansol was navigating his way through the code by controlling a box that highlighted certain text. Upon selecting the correct sequence, there was a tiny beep.

A rectangular section of Hansol’s forearm was outlined in red. Like a safe door, it automatically swung open, uncovering a dense and intricate network of wiring, panels, and metallic instruments that made you feel anxious just looking at them. You couldn’t fathom something so complex was resting beneath Hansol’s synthetic flesh, even as you stared into the thick of it. He didn’t keep the panel exposed for long, and in the next minute Hansol’s arm was restored.

It felt like someone had just crushed your brain between their hands.

“What do people say when you show them that?” You chuckled.

Hansol grabbed the fleece blanket and started pulling it over his lap. He paused for a second, biting his bottom lip.

“I’ve never shown anyone else, apart from you and Mr. Choi.”

However, he didn’t seem interested in delving further on what just happened. Instead, Hansol thanked you for letting him stay for a few days, then wished you goodnight as he got comfortable on the couch. Once you were tucked into bed, you grabbed your phone off its doc station and started texting Changkyun to announce that you made it home safely. Afterward, you slowly dozed off with a strange feeling in your chest and tummy, sort of like butterflies.

Except they weren’t because of Changkyun.

With Yoojung’s arm wound firmly around your lower back, she helped walk you to the front porch, ensuring that your ankle wouldn’t suddenly capsize as she prevented you from haphazardly stumbling in your drunken haze. It was Changkyun’s birthday, and to celebrate, a large congregation had swarmed the downtown club, marking a night that was already beginning to fizzle from your memory. Yoojung never drank alcohol. She had always been the one at your side to nurture any incoming hangovers, though she wouldn’t be available for the weekend.

Instead, she had a Maglev train to catch bright and early the next morning. Her parents lived apart, and for the whole month she’d be away at her mother’s house.

Yoojung grabbed the spare key you kept under a flowerpot to unlock the door.

“Text me tomorrow.” She advised. “Tell me if you’ve puked your guts out or not.”

“G’night, sexy.” Your words spilt out in a jumble. You still felt like you were floating.

Pressing your hand against the wall, you fumbled to remove your shoes. You deserted your jacket in a clump that sat on the foyer floor and proceeded to stagger into the living room. Hansol occupied the couch, scribbling in his notebook. In the beginning, the boy was only supposed to stay for a few days. Two weeks had passed and he was still with you. For some reason, you didn’t possess the heart to see him go, and while you knew he felt guilty extending his welcome, you believed his presence was becoming an integral part of your life.

Changkyun had invited him to the club, though Hansol politely declined, instead wishing him a happy birthday over the phone. Whenever the boy wasn’t working at the auto-repair garage, he was extremely attached to a black, faux leather notebook with sallow-stained pages. You never asked what he wrote about, thinking it might be something like a personal journal. Upon seeing you at the threshold to the room, Hansol bloomed into his usual faint grin. There was still a thorough concoction of liquor in your blood and a black raspberry flavour burned your throat.

You wobbled toward the couch, mumbling in your garbled vernacular about how elated you were to see him after such a tiresome and long night.

Collapsing next to him, you rubbed tightly into your eyes and started humming.

“Need me to get you anything?” Hansol offered kindly.

Cracking one eye open, you glanced at the boy before bursting into intoxicated giggling.

“Oh, nonono, dn’worry about it. M’fine, Hansol. So, so, so fine.”

“You’re smashed. You should get some rest.” He suggested the most logical option, staring at you slumped deep into the cushions from over his shoulder.

But then you sat up, stretching your arms high into the air until you felt the muscles shake. Your hand fell on the boy’s shoulder, and you looked through your clouded gaze into the beautiful, rich earth of Hansol’s eyes. He tensed ever so slightly at being in such a new proximity to you, probably smelling the tangy alcohol straight from your clothing.

Placing your forehead on his shoulder, you slurred, “y’know, you’re r-right. I need to sleep.”

“I can help walk you to your ro—”

Hansol’s suggestion was merely cut in half as you raised your head from his shoulder, pressing your mouth to his in a soft, short kiss. He blinked like a clueless fawn, eyes rounded and glistering, unable to formulate a single thought let alone a sentence. If your veins weren’t engorged with fiery alcohol, then you certainly wouldn’t have kissed him, but in that heart-fluttering and completely sense-devoid moment, you didn’t have your rationality to guide you. His eyes quickly warmed to their adorable rose tint as you rested your head on his lap.

“Dn’wanna go to my room. M’gonna sleep here.” You purred, nuzzling into his thigh.

The boy completely froze. He didn’t know what course of action to take. Settling his notepad and pen on the arm of the couch, he saw you were already falling asleep.

“You’re so comfy…” you sighed, sensing the blackness pull you deeper.

Hansol gulped tensely, “y-you really don’t want your bed?”

“No.” Your brow slanted, and you glanced up at the boy with a misty, intoxicated film in your eyes, your cheek smudged rather cutely against his firm thigh. “Just want to lay here, w’you. Please, Sollie? Do you not want me?”

Hansol’s gaze had never shone such a vivid shade of pink.

“N-No, I do— I mean! I-I don’t mind,” he tripped over his words and ran a nervous hand through his hair, “you can stay there. It’s fine.”

You chuckled in a tipsy, bubbly adoration upon watching Hansol falter. “Y’re soso cute.”

“Do you want the blanket?” He quickly worked to change the subject. “So you don’t get too cold.”

“Yes please.” You hummed, your eyes fluttering shut while the boy grabbed the fleece blanket from the back of the couch.

The material was light yet warm as it was draped gently over your body, prompting you to curl into a ball with Hansol’s thigh pretending to be your pillow. You slurred a polite goodnight, feeling the boy’s gaze roam freely across your face. One of the last things you recalled hearing was a goodnight whispered back to you, though it was very quiet, sincere, alongside the scribbling of Hansol’s pen in his black notebook.

You dreamt that he was writing about you.

“Are you really sure? I feel like I can’t… It’s been a month already.”

Hansol wouldn’t stop fretting about his stay at your house, how he felt undeserving to be living with you, that it was eating him up inside knowing he was taking away a degree of your privacy. He was so inclined to confess his concerns that he hardly touched his warm cinnamon toast or slices of bacon, and you could hear the rapid motion of his leg shaking underneath the table. It hurt to see him like this. Neither Yoojung or Changkyun knew he was living with you, but if you truly wanted the boy to stay, then you would need to be completely candor and voice the reality.

Scaping the last bits of oatmeal from your bowl, you shook your head.

“This is working out, isn’t it? You’re so much safer with me. And I love your company.”

The boy leaned back in his chair, shoulders slumped with uncertainty and his eyes seeming distracted by antagonizing thoughts. You couldn’t help but think that Hansol wasn’t used to someone caring about him in the manner that you did.

“It would be awesome if you stayed.” You made another attempt to mitigate his worries. “The only thing is we would have to tell Yoojung and Changkyun.”

Hansol looked at you, the morning light that pierced through the cloth curtains igniting a golden flare in his eyes, and powdering his long lashes. Your cheeks started prickling just from staring at him. You always wanted to tell Hansol how beautiful he was, but you were too shy.

“I know.” He sighed, reaching for his glass of apple juice.

“Yoojung probably won’t care,” you knew that was a fact, “I’m not sure about Changkyun, though.”

Hansol would leave for work at the auto-repair within the next fifteen minutes, while you made plans the night before to help Changkyun shop for his new apartment. You weren’t exactly sure where you stood with Changkyun, or the direction your heart leaned toward. Whenever you were alone with him, he became the most endearing, sweetest version of himself – a complete charmer, engendering you to laugh so ridiculously hard that you’d choke on your own saliva or playing such a smooth move you’d feel your pulse quicken. He utterly confused your emotions.

To make the matter more conflicting, you still hadn’t forgotten your drunk kiss with Hansol.

He played the incident off casually, in a frivolous nature that helped erode the viscid layers of poignancy you were swathed in the next morning. Almost every night you thought about the kiss, addicted to the butterflies and the cottony feeling that would overwhelm your stomach.

“I should get going now.” You announced, slipping your jacket off the back of the chair.

A small, fainthearted grin appeared on Hansol’s mouth.

Underneath the table, you set your hand on the boy’s jumping knee. He instantly cemented, looking to you with still-water eyes.

“I just want you to know that I’m really glad you’re here. Seriously. You make my life better.”

Your heart was rippling like a kite caught between a harsh wind. After giving the boy’s knee a gentle squeeze, you rose from the table, left your bowl and utensils in the sink, and texted Changkyun to meet you at the hovercraft port next to Grand Station. Small, pearled tears were slipping down your cheeks as you kept a brisk pace along the sidewalk, though you hastily wiped them away with the sleeve of your jacket, pretending they had never fallen.

You were starting to think you were in love with Hansol.

A menacing and wrathful thunderstorm had developed overtop the city throughout the day, the cinder clouds completely swallowing any sunlight as they thickened and grew rotund with water vapour. The bullet rain didn’t start falling until the evening, and the booming reverberations of the thunder made it seem as though the sky was splitting itself apart. Your mother used to say it was the angels bowling, and it thundered each time they hit a strike.

Around ten-thirty at night, you grabbed a quick glass of water from the kitchen and wandered into the living room, wanting to see Hansol before you went to bed. However, he didn’t pay any attention to you. He was looking out the rain-splattered windows and into the darkness, where the thunder still roared barbarously. When you sat next to him on the couch, he sensed how the cushions slightly dipped, the boy jerking in surprise upon noting your presence.

Taking a drink of water, you mumbled a muffled “are you okay?” while eyeing him skeptically over the rim.

He shivered, brushing his own arm. “I dunno, I hate thunderstorms.”

Suddenly, there was a harsh, almost deafening crack that echoed from the sky. The lights flickered for a transient moment until the aftershock faded away.

“S-See what I mean?” Hansol stuttered, his eyes glowing in a lambent, soft-tinged blue.

Your heart immediately pined for him, and you experienced an urge to tuck him away in your pocket so he couldn’t be harmed. After setting your water glass on the coffee table, you offered a tenacious solace that made your palms dot with moisture.

“If you want, you can sleep with me in my bed—I mean! not like, sleep with me, but just—we’re both sleeping and nothing else, is what I’m trying to say…”

You internally wilted and admonished yourself for making the request so painfully awkward. To your relief, Hansol chuckled innocuously at you.

“I didn’t think you meant it like that,” he admitted, his eyes flitting from blue to an orchid pink, “If it’s okay, then I’ll do it.”

“It’s okay.” You reassured him. “It’s completely okay.”

At first, neither of you could fall asleep, instead staring blankly at the shadows of the popcorn ceiling while raindrops pelted against the glass. You two attempted keeping as much space as possible between you, for even the slightest brush of your leg or arm rendered you both to instantly recoil and spew apologies. At a little past eleven o’clock, your eyes were fluttering open in response to a particular sound. It was Hansol’s leg again, shaking beneath the covers.

Turning your cheek into the pillow, you faced him with aid from your alarm clock light.

“Your leg is going like crazy. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Hansol looked at you, gulping tautly.

“My leg does this all the time. I-I can’t help it. It’s harder to control the bionics there.”

“You have bionics in your leg too?”

“Yeah, mostly in my knee, some in my shin.” His expression was apologetic. “I’m sorry, you can’t sleep because of it, right?”

Hansol held his breath when you grabbed his hand beneath the covers.

“I don’t care.” You promised him, calmly stroking the ridges of his knuckles.

A few moments passed where you simply observed the dark slopes and outlines belonging to each other’s faces, your breaths slowly beginning to synchronize as the raindrops softened against the window. Tentatively, you touched the side of Hansol’s cheek, your thumb running just below the warm, silk skin of his eye, treating him akin to a fragile art piece. You could sense the rigidity within him dissipate like mist, especially as he moved closer to you, pushing his head into your chest. An intense fluttering sensation immediately consumed your lower-tummy.

“Will you please hold me?” He mumbled in his husky, tired voice, his ear settled right over your thumping heart. “I always sleep better when I think about you holding me.”

“O-Of course.” You stuttered, rather taken aback.

That was the first time he had ever been so forward with you.

You fleshed your fingers deep through the boy’s brown locks, feeling the thick, velvet-like strands wrap around each digit and tickle your skin. Continuing to softly coax down his scalp, you brushed against a hard, plastic slit near the back of his nape, and realized it must be the area where Hansol’s sensory chip had originally been inserted. His leg was no longer shaking, and you felt the rhythmic pattern of his breaths against your chest. In the darkness, you could properly see the small circuits that dimly glowed beneath his eye and ran across his cheek.

Under your breath you murmured, “you’re so pretty.”

Almost immediately, the circuits lit up in a deep shade of fuchsia, and you could just see the boy’s mouth twitch coyly. Your entire body, head to toe, flushed with warmth as Hansol only turned his face further into your chest, attempting to hide the sappy blush staining his cheeks. He was inexplicably more than just pretty, Hansol was precious, and you wished to keep him pressed against your side so that the cruel world may never wrap its hands around him.

About a week later, you met with Yoojung at the internet coffeeshop. She had recently returned from her stay at the opposite side of the city with her mother. You two picked a window seat at the front house, using the translucent screen in front of you to select your orders. As soon as you were finished, the screen blipped off, revealing the bustling city street.

“Changkyun wanted to come too,” Yoojung said, fiddling with a sugar packet, “but his aerospace class is going on a tour of the Sky Hub… He won’t stop talking about you, y’know?”

You cringed slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by Yoojung.

She couldn’t repress her laughter. “What’s that about? You hate him now?”

“I don’t hate him.” You also grabbed a sugar packet and started pushing around the granules inside, using it as an excuse not to face her directly. “It’s weird being only friends.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Yoojung frowned.

“I thought that was what I wanted. I feel like… I kept him as a friend because I was too afraid to lose him completely. But now…” You heaved a sigh and chewed pensively into your bottom lip.

“You’ve moved on.” Yoojung acknowledged. “But with who?”

Taking in a breath to relax your pulse, you looked at Yoojung seriously and admitted: “Hansol.”

“Hansol?” Her jaw almost fell off the bone. “What the hell! How come you never told me you were in love with the hot cyborg? When did this happen?”

There was a silver disc on the far side of the table that automatically slid open, and a tray pushed up that contained Yoojung’s coffee and your honey tea. Once you took the tray, the silver disc closed.

“Like two months ago,” you confessed, handing Yoojung her coffee mug and the small pitcher of cream, “he’s living with me.”

“I had no idea.” She sounded in complete awe. “But now that I think of it, you two always seemed to connect really well.”

You felt an unbridled smile pull at the corners of your mouth, but tried not to make your giddiness too obvious.

“Can you please not tell Changkyun? If he finds out, I want it to be through me.”

“I won’t say anything.” Yoojung promised, drawing a cross over her chest with her finger.

After you spent a few minutes blowing at your tea, you swallowed coarsely and asked Yoojung about a matter that had always allured your curiosity.

“What are those numbers by Hansol’s ear? I’ve never asked him.”

“I don’t know really,” Yoojung replied, shrugging, “my dad said it’s like a barcode that they use in laboratories.”

“Do you think Hansol was an experiment of some sort?”

Yoojung poured a dash of cream into her coffee and stirred it. “Most likely. I think that’s why he writes in that notebook all the time. My dad told me that the laboratories are evil. They do cruel experiments, and a lot of the cyborgs need a mental escape. Apparently, they’re allowed to write or paint. Ever since my dad found Hansol, he’s had that notebook.”

Her expression turned sorrowful and the contours of her face filled with gloom. “I don’t think Hansol is used to being treated like a human. Just because he has bionic parts, that doesn’t mean he’s emotionless, like some android. He can walk and breathe and laugh, like any of us.”

You stared into the golden, swirling colours of your tea and nodded solemnly.

“He can love too,” Yoojung hummed, “he just needs to be shown it first.”

Ivory rays of moonlight followed you home, until you slipped through the door and quietly clicked it shut. You hadn’t expected to stay out so long with Yoojung, though you weren’t entirely surprised considering her month-long absence.

Hansol was sitting on the couch, the lamp aglow on the side table as he scribbled into that faux, black leather notebook, a few stray locks of hair tickling his eyes. Your expression couldn’t help but split into one of firm ardour and love, a contented smile decorating your mouth while you opened the fridge to look for a quick snack.

You pulled out a container of sliced strawberries, washed your hands, and ate nearly half the sweet summer fruit. After wiping off your fingers with a paper towel, you sat next to Hansol on the couch and rested your chin on his shoulder. His writing was crooked, rather messy, and you couldn’t quite read anything from the paper, though you held a moment of silence, continuing to watch him make his scribbles. Eventually you set a hand on his bicep, squeezing gently and feeling the hard, metal component beneath.

“Did you have a nice day, Sollie?” You asked him, mindlessly stroking his arm.

He turned his head slightly and caught your curious eye. Never had you yearned to kiss someone else so badly, and you were forced to squash the notion that moving your head just an inch forward would have your lips to his.

“It was fine.” Hansol replied, his gaze tenderly studying your face. “You?”

“I saw Yoojung today, so we caught up on some things...” tracing circles against his strong arm, you added shyly, “I thought about you a lot too.”

The edges of Hansol’s lips fluttered into a smile. “Yeah? Nice.”

“What are you writing about?” You hummed, simultaneously reaching into a pocket on your jacket, pulling out a lip balm.

Hansol chuckled, “you can’t read it?”

You pressed the smooth end of the stick against your lips and shook your head.

“No,” you scoffed lightheartedly in response, staring into the boy’s brown eyes, “not saying you have bad hand writing. It’s just… a little indiscernible.”

He examined the paper again, and his countenance became timid, even a mixture of anxious.

“Good.” Hansol huffed, his leg starting to shake.

“Why good? C’mon, I want to know at least the topic.” You shoved away your fruity lip balm with a large pout.

“If you don’t have a clue now then you’ll never have one.” Hansol teased.

Scratching your arm, you said the first thing that came to mind. “Is it about me?”

Hansol didn’t say anything, he just pressed his lips together in a small, sheepish smile while that familiar rose tint flickered in his eyes. He nodded, then set his book and pen on the side table.

“Do you think that’s weird?”

“What?” You questioned him. “That you write about me? I don’t think it’s weird.”

You expected him to appear more relieved, but Hansol’s face only filled with new shadows of uncertainty and doubt. He peered into his lap again, and you could see a very prominent circuit on his neck fire a multitude of luminous, twinkling signals. Something clearly wasn’t right with him; something was still causing him pain. Carefully, your fingers grazed Hansol’s sharp jaw, turning his head so that he could look at you forwardly. You swept away the tresses that were touching his long lashes, a deep concern shifting the once chipper nature to your face.

“What’s wrong, Hansol?” Your brow furrowed, knuckles stroking softly along his jawline. “You can tell me anything.”

“W-Would—,” he stumbled, and you saw how his irises faded into a beautiful aurora of ice blue, “would you love me more if I weren’t who I am?”

Immediately you tensed, and your eyes widened. Your hand fell from the boy’s jaw while a thorough shock bottomed out in your gut. Hansol looked at you so purely, so intimately.

“Because I’m in love with you,” his gritty voice trembled slightly, becoming as thin as the paper attached to his notebook, “and I can’t stop thinking about you, or writing about you. When you touch me, I feel the sensors in my body light up like crazy, and when you say my name, I replay it over and over again in my head. I’ve never felt this way before. But… I’m not like Changkyun, or Yoojung, or you. I can never be human in the way that you all are. ”

You shook your head, the inside of your mouth feeling horrendously parched and your heart aching tight against your ribs. Pulling the boy’s hand into your lap, you interlaced your fingers.

“Don’t say that,” you pleaded, a surge of hot, liquid salt lining your eyes, “those bionics in your body don’t take away from the fact you can feel real emotion. I don’t care if you had circuits in every part of you, or none of you. You still have a heart that feels pain, and love, a brain that helps you rationalize your emotions and thoughts. That alone makes you human enough, Hansol. I’ll love you no matter what.”

His cheeks were rubescent, eyes developing a thin film of teary gloss.

“Do you promise?” He croaked between a small sniffle.

You cupped his face in your enveloping palms and pressed a deep, calming kiss to his mouth.

“I promise.” You assured him, resting your forehead against his. “I love you, Hansol.”

The boy was unmarred by hesitance. Delicately, he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck to gently push your lips against his, slightly angling his head so that he could better coordinate with your movement. The kiss was slow, but blooming with passion, and you felt the heat pool in the pit of your lower tummy as Hansol started guiding you to lay on your back. Your lips never separated, and the contact only grew more fervent upon tasting the mild fruit of your own chapstick from Hansol’s pink mouth. While your fingers tangled through his dark brown hair, pulling softly at the strong roots, his hands crept underneath your t-shirt.

He squeezed tenderly along your waist, the rough callouses gorged into his large palms turning your insides to a warm puddle. As the boy pressed open-mouth kisses beneath your jaw, one hand reached for his bicep, feeling the hard metal underneath upon digging in your fingertips. By the time Hansol reached the crook of your shoulder, he was panting faintly, to which you let the boy adjust his weight as he wriggled himself against your side, sleepy and overwhelmed with how the night unfolded.

He nuzzled into your neck and tucked an arm around your stomach, attempting to keep you as close as possible, like you could disappear into thin air.

“Goodnight, Sol.” You murmured, gently scratching the top of his head.

His breath tickled the sensitive flesh of your neck, his rough voice already heavy with remnants of his incoming slumber as he repeated the phrase back to you. Just before you shut your eyes, your lips kissed the barcode tattooed to the sweet spot just in front of his ear.

I’ll love you no matter what.

✧✎ a/n: :-) hope u liked it! hearing ur thoughts is always appreciated!! i was actually supposed to post seokmin’s prince!au next, but that one is like 12k and since my mingyu purge fic was also really long, i just wanted to write smth short and sweet in between. maybe some of u would not consider 6k “short” lol but to me who physically CANNOT shorten my writing this is actually an improvement! anywho, i like writing hansol as a BIG SOFTIE!!!!

#seventeen scenarios #vernon scenarios #hansol scenarios #seventeen vernon #hansol x reader #vernon x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen fluff #svt vernon #seventeen angst

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verryberriess · 4 years

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Accept Me As Your Valentine’s | Rowaelin Oneshot

This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever written!! Thanks to my bestie @maastrash for the encouragement and helping me out :D I hope you guys like it!

Rating: T, mild swearing

Summary: February 14 was the one official day at Greenbriar where an individual could offer chocolates, flowers, or small gifts to someone they admire or want to express pure feelings towards. And Aelin had spent all night making chocolates for a certain someone...

Note: There is potential for the side stories to be written out ... let me know what you think!

February 14. Valentine’s Day. A tradition celebrated around the world where gifts and flowers are exchanged between lovers in order to express a physical act of love. Gifts didn’t have to necessarily be exchanged between lovers, however. Many, in fact, are exchanged between close friends and offered to those whom someone admires.

At Greenbriar High School, Valentine’s Day had become a popular school event over the years. February 14 was the one official day at Greenbriar where an individual could offer chocolates, flowers, or small gifts to someone they admire or want to express pure feelings towards. It was the ultimate event of courage for girls and guys of all classes to attempt a confession towards the person they admired from afar. The hope of having one’s feelings returned often came at the expense of high-end chocolate carefully wrapped in gold foil imported from Switzerland and Belgium or opulent custom-designed pastries from French patisseries.

Rowan Whitethorn, Aedion Ashyrver, and Fenrys Moonbeam were some particular individuals whom many girls had intended to present their chocolates to on this special day, for the reason that these men were the most eligible bachelors of Greenbriar High.

School legend claimed that a couple years ago, alumni Lorcan Salvaterre, infamous for his ruthless and dark manner, had actually started dating someone after she had presented chocolates to him on this particular day. As a result, most people reasoned that if the notorious Lorcan could be swayed by some certain chocolates on Valentine’s Day, there was certainly some charm in the event that had provoked such a miracle.

Amidst the bustling student body, Aelin Galathynius stood in front of her locker and stared down at what she clutched in her hands. A tiny, golden, heart-shaped box she had purchased from the local art store for her homemade chocolates. She had even put in the effort to tie a little bow across the box to complete the aesthetic. It had taken her all night to prepare her chocolates. Although she was certainly talented in consuming large quantities of the physical manifestations of cocoa heaven, they were absolutely a pain to produce. Cooking was not in her favor.

She remembered last night’s events where she burned her first batch of cream and chocolate in the bowl, and in her second attempt, somehow the chocolate had managed to never melt. She stirred for one whole hour for the mixture to turn liquidy as the recipe called; it was apparent that after she had Googled the approximate time it took for chocolate to melt under this process, she knew she had to start over again. Hence, third time's a charm when she followed an easier recipe.

In the end, she had successfully made chocolates-- or well-- it was as chocolate as chocolate could be. Her chocolate turned out lumpy, with unusual grooves and warts sticking out in various directions. Perhaps that was due to the almond shavings she had added for an artistic touch? Were truffles supposed to carry such a discoloring? She compared her outcome to the one in the article. Ehh.

Aelin took a bite out of one of the six chocolates that had survived her horrific cooking venture. “Hmm,” she mulled over its unusual taste. It was definitely edible. But did it taste like the usual chocolatey decadence she was so accustomed to? Big no. Even if it was chocolate. Even if she was the ultimate chocolate connoisseur who would probably consume any form of chocolate in the world. What she had concocted was a big mistake.

Aelin couldn’t afford to waste any more heavy cream. The jar of cocoa powder that she had gotten earlier that day was also almost out. And it wasn’t like the general store near her operated 24/7. Carefully assembling the remaining five chocolates in the box she had acquired on sale just for tomorrow’s occasion, she wrapped a golden ribbon across and pulled the ends tight.

She couldn’t reason how so many of her fellow classmates had thousands of dollars to spend on chocolates that carried high risk of being rejected. Actually, maybe that was the best form of action anyways, since her truffles didn’t exactly turn out how chocolates were supposed to. But, in reality, this was all Aelin could afford. She lived in the most underprivileged neighborhood in the area and rode on the bus for an hour to get to school everyday. Some days after school, she worked a part-time job to pay for her rent. She was sincerely thankful for being able to attend Greenbriar High under a full scholarship despite the air being polluted by rich snobs and bigots. Nevertheless, Aelin was most thankful for the best friend she’s ever made in her life there. These chocolates were for him, after all.

He better be thankful. Aelin was on the verge of hand-writing letters to thank each chocolate company in the country for their honorable service. She had a newfound appreciation for the treat.

Aelin peered out of her locker to look over her shoulder at an onslaught of girls and boys. The crowd was immense. She hadn’t realized the extent of the school event’s popularity until now. She witnessed some groups exchange treats with each other and heard others talking animatedly about who they would offer theirs to. But the majority of the crowd was focused around a certain group that everyone had aspired to give their chocolates to. Rowan, Fenrys, and Aedion walked as a group through the hall, conversing with each other, stopping intermittently to interact with brave souls who tried to give them chocolates. Fenrys looked like a balancing act. He carried stacks upon stacks of chocolates and sweets within his arms. The pile seemed to grow with each passing second. Aelin feared for all of the treats that would scatter across the school if he ever toppled over… she just hoped she would get there in time to maybe steal some for herself? Aedion carried a few chocolates himself, but most of them were probably hidden inside of his bag, since it was looking extra stuffed today.

She watched as a girl, holding luxury chocolate bars Aelin would have died to get her hands on, approach a notable tall, silver-haired, pine-green eyed individual. He only carried his backpack on his right shoulder-- any sweets he may have received were out of sight. The girl blushed, determinedly held out the chocolates, and shyly insisted, “Rowan, please accept these chocolates!”

Rowan looked upon the unassuming girl and the chocolates with disinterest and replied, “... No.”

With encouragement from her friends to try again, the girl piped up assuredly, “If you could just-”

Rowan cut her off, “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept these.”

The crowd around Rowan and the girl didn’t seem to decrease even with Rowan’s apt rejection. In fact, it only seemed to get bigger. Of course Rowan would reject the chocolates though, reasoned Aelin. He was never big on sweets. But maybe he would accept hers-

Before Aelin could reconsider, she saw Rowan reject yet another person across the hall. This time, he rejected a guy who had wanted to thank Rowan for his help from some extracurricular activity.

No. This is stupid, thought Aelin. If he didn’t accept someone’s chocolates meant to thank him for his help, what were the odds of Rowan accepting hers? They weren’t that close, were they? She had wanted to thank him for being a good friend to her. He was one of her closest friends at school. He had introduced her to the rest of his group and allowed her to meet Lysandra and Fenrys. Why did she feel like she needed a better reason to present him her chocolates?

Aelin shoved her chocolates in her locker and collected her books for the school day.

When she walked into Second period, she scrambled to her seat and shrunk into her chair and focused on a peculiar spot on her desk. It was not long after until Rowan walked in and made eye contact with her. Immediately, his resting bitch face morphed into a grin, “Hey, Fireheart!” Rowan made his way towards Aelin’s seat.

Aelin looked up from the all-too interesting black dust speck and carefully crafted her response, smiling smugly, “Buzzard! I’m surprised you’re not carrying a mountain of chocolates with you.”

Rowan smirked, “Well, I have my own agenda to account for today.” Rowan peered at Aelin expectantly. Aelin only stared back. Was he trying to communicate telepathically with her somehow? She would have to remind him again that it wouldn’t work. “But I’m also wondering-- “

Before Rowan could finish, their teacher walked in and silenced the room with her eerie screeching throughout the class. Rowan, about to quickly tell Aelin something, hastily turned back around towards the board at the lecturing tone of their teacher, who reminded him that class had already started.

Aelin was confused. But she figured he would tell her later. They sat at lunch together with the rest of their friends anyway. During the entirety of the class, Aelin couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to ask her. He looked at her as if he was expecting something, but he also looked hesitant to ask her about whatever he wanted to ask. His idiotic face was too much for her to think about right now. What did he expect from her? Chocolates? No, she was still on the brink of destroying those utter atrocities. She had yet to decide whether she still wanted to give them to him, but considering the way he acted towards everyone else who tried to give him something, she was leaning to not.

Towards the end of class, Aelin packed up her bag and readied her materials for her next class. Next period she had to turn in a paper before class started. Otherwise, it would be considered late.

When the bell rang signaled for Passing period, Rowan turned back around in his seat to approach Aelin again, but she remarked, “I’ll see you at lunch! I have a paper to turn in!” and ran out of the classroom.

At lunch, she found the usual table already occupied by her friends who were already discussing intensely about the events of their day so far. It was apparent that everyone already had dozens of boxes of treats set out before them. She sat down next to Lysandra and inquired about her friends’ large collections, “How do you guys already have so many chocolates? It’s literally lunch and we only sat through three periods of the day so far,” Aelin was seriously concerned with the popularity of her own friends. With their collection alone, they could feed a whole nation. The total costs of all of the gifts themselves could probably amount to the entire GDP of England or something.

“Well, Aelin, it’s all because of my infinitesimal charm. It’s also a little process I like to call, ‘accept and accept’” replied Fenrys jokingly.

“No, I’m specifically wondering why YOU, of all people, have been offered chocolate!” Aelin grinned back. She loved joking with Fenrys. But now she wondered why she ended up empty handed. No one had offered her anything yet. Maybe she had been too much of an oddball at school to make any sort of formidable impression among her peers. Was she too unapproachable? She watched the exchange between Lysandra and Aedion. She guessed that eighty percent of the gifts that Lysandra received were from Aedion. It would have been nice to receive something too…

Next, she observed Rowan. He had resigned from any conversation to focus all of his concentration on his food to ignore Fenrys, who kept berating him with a small box of special hazelnut chocolates Fenrys had gotten from Russia. That especially looked appetizing. “Come on, Rowan! I ordered these a few days ago just for you! They taste just like Nutella!”

Rowan grumbled something incoherent and concentrated harder onto his food.

Fenrys eyebrows furrowed. He turned away from Rowan to face Aelin. An idea must have hit him because soon his disappointed expression morphed into that of a devious one. Aelin waited to brace herself for whatever rambunctious idea that Fenrys had apparently come up with. “So Aelin, would you mind-”

The movement was so fast, the whole table fell silent at the abrupt speed that had been displayed. Rowan had swiped the hazelnut chocolates from Fenrys, tucked them besides his lunch, and resumed eating. Aelin was shocked about what had just happened. Lysandra and Aedion, who had paused their conversation, both resumed their exchange. Their talking had seemed to lower even more so in volume, almost to that of whispers, discussing whatever between themselves that had to be kept a secret from all of them. Expressions coy, they traded little smiles and light touches between each other. Fenrys’ only response to Rowan’s reaction was a gleeful smile of victory. He continued to badger Rowan as they both ate.

Aelin scrutinized the little box of chocolates that Rowan had kept next to his lunch container. Damn, she really wanted them. She was so ready to accept them from Fenrys if Rowan hadn’t stolen them away. As if he sensed her watching his chocolates, he gracefully gathered them closer towards himself, out of her reach. Aelin huffed in resignation. There was no way she could attempt to steal the treats now.

While everyone had an endless supply of chocolates, where were hers? She was the ultimate chocolate connoisseur. She was the most qualified to be receiving chocolates. This kind of school event was made for her! She should have been receiving all sorts of things now. She knew she wasn’t exactly the nicest person in the school, nor a typical rich kid that could lure others to be her friend, but she wasn’t a fiend! Consequently, her own source of chocolates from this day were the chocolates that she had made herself… and while those things were chocolate, under her jurisdiction, they were not qualified to be considered as such. To top it all off, she hadn’t even made those chocolates for herself.

She looked out at the other tables. A group of girls cheered as they exchanged little boxes with bows tied atop. She saw another guy blush and shyly present a heart-shaped box to another girl. Groups mingled and high fived each other as they handed out treats to each other. Aelin’s felt an unpleasant tug in her chest as she observed students carry out the gift-giving event.

But as Aelin turned her attention back to her own table, she had realized that her friends had exchanged chocolates without her. She watched Fenrys play Jenga out of the boxes that he received and Lysandra and Aedion in their own world. Rowan only kept Fenrys’ chocolate, but that was because he had turned down all of the other gifts throughout the day. She looked at the collection of chocolates that Lysandra and Aedion scattered around them on the table and zeroed in on two tiny red-wrapped boxes of hazelnut chocolates that have been imported from Russia.

Aelin frowned. Suddenly those hazelnut chocolates didn’t look so appetizing anymore. Nor any of the other chocolates that she had seen exchanged today. She couldn’t control the feeling of her lips starting to tremble or the sudden deep tugging in her chest that felt like a million bricks had settled atop her chest. She tentatively rose from her seat at the table. Her long bangs shielded her misted eyes from the group, fortunately covering her face as she remarked shakily, “I just remembered I had an assignment due next period. I’ll see you guys later.”

As Aelin stood up, about to leave, Rowan called, “Wait, Aelin, you’ve barely touched your food.”

Aedion chimed in, “Yeah, you should eat at least a little bit, Aelin. We still have three more periods to go.”

It was true. Aelin had just gotten back from class and knew that she’d only sat for a few minutes. She had barely touched her lunch. But the gnawing in her gut diminished her usually ravenous appetite. Aelin pulled on a smile. It was strange how exhausting it felt to force her lips to tug in a motion that was so effortless and natural to execute only moments before. She couldn’t see the group’s reaction, but responded, “I’m suddenly just not hungry anymore.” She pivoted herself around so as to not face the group and walked out of the cafeteria in haste.

It was bad enough that sometimes she had felt like an outsider at her own school. But the feeling only solidified today as she truly realized the reality of her position. She interacted and got along with her classmates well and participated in class, and although she was not as close to her peers she wanted to be, compared to herself and her usual group, it hit her that one of her classmates had passed out goodie bags of candy corn to everyone in the class but her. She didn’t realize it until the end of class when she asked her classmate why everyone held the same goodie bag. It didn’t bother her that much because she was eager to go to lunch… but now it was at the forefront of her mind. And now? She felt like an outsider to her own lunch group.

Her footsteps thudded through the hall. They sounded louder than usual, as if she were the only one walking through them. There were a few people loitering the hallway, yet they felt so far away. This small stretch of space that usually felt so narrow and crowded now felt like it could stretch for miles. All Aelin could hear right now were her footsteps. Everything else was muted. Her thoughts whirled, a simultaneous mess of gibberish and nothingness and everything at the same time. Her steps carried her to her locker, where she now beheld the little, golden, heart-shaped box. She didn’t have the heart to throw out the hours of work that she put into the little monstrosities, but…

Rowan had been offered chocolates that had probably cost more than her whole month’s rent. Fenrys’ were from Russia for fuck’s sake. If he had trouble accepting even his own friend’s presents, what were the odds of him accepting hers? It’s not like she was any different as a person compared to her friends. But even so, what did she have to offer? She was poor. She walked in rags and everyone else lept in riches. Aelin felt the tears that she fought so hard to suppress well up and stream down her face. If she could physically put a price on how much she felt she owed Rowan, the number would be in the thousands. Millions. What did crippled, deformed chocolates amount to compared to the things that these daughters and sons of millionaires could afford and buy without even batting an eye?

Rowan had given her so much. So, so much. Friendship. Laughter. Dessert... And something else she was so afraid to put into words. She knew it in her heart earlier when she began thinking of what to gift him. She knew what she had felt when she tried to make the chocolates over and over again. She knew what she was trying to convince away from herself when she stood at her locker this morning and watched Rowan reject gift after gift.

But she wouldn’t admit it now. Couldn’t. She was far too stubborn. She tightly gripped the box in her hands and closed her locker door. She gripped the box so hard the cheap cardboard repaid her in wrinkles and a large, thumb-sized dent. The box looked so worn. Its cover was dented and soiled with the scent of salt; the bow she so proudly tied together flopped, weighed down from its damp ends, saturated by her tears.

Aelin smuggled the box into her backpack and slid down the wall of lockers to settle on the floor.

-----

She avoided the group the rest of the day, but she often saw Rowan in the distance. During class, Aelin once looked out the window and saw Rowan casually standing a few meters away from her classroom. As if he sensed the instance she noticed his presence, he immediately walked in the opposite direction of her classroom. During Passing period, she would often see Rowan walk in her direction. But when she saw him nearing, she took a detour. She was successful in avoiding the others the whole day, but somehow it was as if Rowan was everywhere.

At break, she noticed that when she walked to her spot, Rowan was already there, so she walked away quickly. But when she went to another room, it was like he appeared out of nowhere. Today, to her dismay, it seemed that he was just always within her vicinity.

After school, she made up her mind. This would be the last time she would interact with any of them. This would serve as her final good bye, and a big “fuck you” to Rowan’s asshole rejections.

She walked outside of the school to the spot they usually meet up at to walk home together. As Aelin neared, she scowled at a line that had seemed to form. But a line for what? Her eyes traced the direction of the line to its head. Who would have thought. A line to present chocolates to Rowan Whitethorn. It seemed as though many people had acquired the same idea as she had. But now, the energy in the crowd that had gathered felt even more intense than that of this morning.

The line consisted of both girls and guys. They lined up one after another. A tall, athletic guy Aelin knew as Jasen presented a large box of Japanese candy and asserted, “Hey Rowan! The basketball team all pitched in to buy this for you. We really appreciate you for helping us in our championship game.” Rowan wasn’t officially on the team, but secretly subbed in the last quarter, he had ended up scoring the winning basket. “Hopefully we can play again sometime,” Jasen smiled.

Rowan replied lamely, “... I hate mushroom-shaped, matcha flavored konpeito.”

The group of guys that encouraged their friend to approach Rowan argued amongst themselves. “Why did you give him those? Did he seem like a mushroom-shaped, matcha-flavor konpeito type of guy to you?!”

A girl with brunette curls and sun-kissed skin came forward, “Rowan, I’ve always wanted to thank you for helping me last year. It really meant a lot to me, and I don’t want anything in return, but it would make me really happy if you could accept these…?”

Rowan inspected the chocolates and flowers she held out to him and examined the brunette’s face. The crowd was silent, eagerly waiting for his response. Will he accept them? He would actually be an asshole if he didnt, thought Aelin.

“Sorry, I don’t think I remember helping you, so I can’t accept these.”

The girl insisted, “It’s Lyria. You helped deliver flowers to the hospital with me to my parents last year.”

“Oh, well, Lyria, I’m sorry, but it’s just that I actually don’t remember you… so,” Rowan shifted uneasily.

“Buzzard,” Aelin cursed at Rowan’s bad memory. He was actually the worst.

The line increasingly reduced as he rejected person after person. No matter the reason, no matter how intensely they felt about him, Rowan rejected them. But also after each rejection, came an energy of rejuvenation as the next person somehow felt even more fired up to present their gift. The courage was astounding.

“Sorry-”

“Sorry, I-”

After what seemed like hours, the mile-long line had dwindled to nothing. Rowan had accepted absolutely no one’s gifts. But the crowd remained, eager to see who would bravely face him next. This event had in some way transitioned into a spirited competition of who could possibly get Rowan Whitethorn to accept their gift. This competition would forever be embedded in the yearbooks. The energy was wild. It was legendary. No one so far had accomplished this feat. Aelin could tell people had lost any sense of unease. No matter one’s status or wealth, everyone had been rejected just because. And by the time the line had dwindled down to twenty, not one had felt shame in approaching him, no less in offering him their gifts in fear of rejection.

Aelin looked around. It seemed that there was no one else who wanted to approach him. They were all defeated. They only waited for the next person to advance toward him. She sucked in her feelings and walked down towards him in an air of pridefulness. No matter, she was just going to do what she had to do and go about her life.

Although the path towards him was only a few feet, it seemed like she had walked for an endless number of miles. She had turned her attention towards the ground as she walked, so, so hesitant to take the next step. But her mind fought to keep her walking towards him. She needed to do this for him. She needed to do this for herself. It was like everything was muted again. The chatter surrounding them faded to a dull white noise and as she looked up towards his face-- as he commenced to close the distance from where he stood all those dozens of times students tried to propose to him. His pine green eyes met her turquoise blue. She couldn’t deny the sudden intensity in them, compared to the obvious disinterest that he had shown to others time and time beforehand. His mouth firm, but in awe as if struck by her presence. There it was, his usual, idiotic Buzzard face.

Now, they stood only a few inches apart. She glowered at him and he bored his eyes back into hers. They were so close Aelin could smell his scent of pine and snow. She didn’t know what to make of his reaction, because they had only just stared at each other, as if the first person to speak would shatter the electric energy that peaked in the atmosphere, as if the other person would explode into pieces just from their speech alone. Aelin was addicted to this energy whenever she was with him. When they were walking home together, when they hung out at each other’s houses, or when they had bought each other ice cream and devoured them on the flowery grass at the park. No, Aelin was mistaken. She could never say goodbye to Rowan. She could only ever welcome him back into her life, welcome back an even stronger relationship than they had initially formed.

But, when she finally chose to speak first, “Rowan, I-”

At the same time, Rowan uttered, “Fireheart, I’ve-”

Aelin’s cheeks noticeably burned. The realization of what she was doing finally had caught up to her. Her face burned even hotter as if she was branded by the 350°F heat of a thousand ovens baking chocolate chip cookies. As she looked at Rowan’s face, she couldn’t help but feel relieved at his instant blush as well. “You go first,” Aelin said.

At Aelin’s command, Rowan proceeded, “I’ve been waiting for you. Since this morning, I just-”

But Aelin was too impatient. She had steeled her mind from any sort of rejection. She primed herself and wanted to get it over with, so she took up the heart-shaped box she held in her hands and cut him off, “No!”

Rowan immediately stopped himself and looked at her, bewildered.

This was the first time Aelin would let herself acknowledge her feelings. At this realization, she had wanted to let him know. She wanted him to know her feelings. As she replayed her interactions with him for the past five months she’s known him in her mind throughout her classes today, she knew that she had to use today to finally get her feelings out. She would hurt afterwards, but at least he would know, because every little thought of hers had been crashing down on her lately. He was on her mind everyday. She would hurt but Aelin knew she had the ability to slowly put herself back together again.

And so, Aelin took her stance.

She exhaled harshly,

And aggressively shoved the box against his broad chest.

The crowd around them was stunned at this sudden development.

“When I first came to Greenbriar, I never expected to form close ties with anyone. But it was you who had worn down the iron walls I had so carefully crafted up, because of your stupid, stupid idiocy, and I,” Aelin paused, “And today,” She took a deep breath, “Today I really wanted to get rid of you and Fenrys and Lysandra and Aedion from my stupid life because I-- I felt hurt.” Aelin closed her eyes to collect herself.

“Fireheart, I can-”

“No, I need to say this… Just, let me get this out… please.” Aelin regained her composure and started again, “When I thought about cutting ties with you guys, I recounted all of the memories we made together in these five months alone. I have never felt so happy in my life before I came here, and I realized it was because of everyone. And then I remembered those times you picked me up in the middle of the night and took me to this beautiful, beautiful spot to admire the stars. I recounted how I knew my heart began to mend so slowly; it was so slow, but it was healing, and I knew it was only because I was with you. So I realized I could never say goodbye. Not ever. ”

“So,” She picked a crease on Rowan’s shirt to focus on, looked up into his eyes, which crinkled back immediately in response, and shouted at him, “Rowan, I like you! Accept my chocolates!”

Rowan peered down at her. A visible blush painted his cheeks and the corner of his lips quirked upwards into a small smile. Rowan closed his large hands around Aelin’s small ones, gently taking up the marred heart-shaped box from her hands, and pulled Aelin into a tight embrace. He enclosed her within his arms and held her tight, as if he feared she would fly away from him. In response, Aelin instinctively leaned into the crook of his shoulder. Rowan bent down to bury himself within her hair. They fit together perfectly. He couldn’t get enough of her, and she, him.

Rowan pulled back from her hair to face Aelin, grinning, “Fireheart, of course I’ll accept your chocolates.” Without letting Aelin out of his embrace, Rowan tugged on the ribbon of the box and popped one of the chocolates in his mouth. “Mm, as expected from my Fireheart. They don’t taste like chocolates at all.”

Aelin glared back up at him as Rowan licked some of the remnants from his finger and continued, “But, Miss Chocolate Connoisseur, this is truly unacceptable.”

“What now?” Aelin sunk in deeper into his embrace.

Rowan reached into his pocket, “You’re simply not qualified to be the one giving out chocolates. It’s demeaning of you.” He pulls out a key and slips it into Aelin’s palm.

Aelin’s brows furrowed in confusion and inspected the key that Rowan placed in her hand, “Are you trying to ask me to move in with you or something? I think that’s a bit fast, don’t you think? You didn’t even kiss me yet.”

Rowan’s cheeks burned further, “It’s the key to the Godiva store in downtown. You can enter the store and take whatever you want, whenever.”

“Even when it’s closed?”

“Even when it’s closed. And on that note, I’m sorry for how you felt today… I know I hurt you, I was supposed to give you this key this morning,” Rowan looked away and whispered, “Yesterday, I... threatened the whole student body to not gift anything to you because,” Rowan spoke even more softly, so that only Aelin could hear, “Fireheart, you’re mine to spoil. I want you to know that I love you. Out of every single person in this school, out of every single person on this earth, and perhaps even the universe, you’re the only person I would accept chocolates from. The only person I’ll concede to, fall for, and let my heart be stolen from.”

Aelin looked at him and traced the swirls of his tattoo with her eyes, like she had done a thousand times already whenever they were together. She felt her heart swell. It was healed. Her heart had fully healed. Its tiny cracks mended and now the weight of her heart that initially only served to weigh her down made her feel so so light, she was afraid she would accidentally soar into the sky. So, Aelin stood on her tiptoes, reached up to grab at Rowan’s hair to pull him down at her level and muttered, “Territorial bastard,” before crashing her lips onto his to feel the electricity between them once more.

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himboskywalker · 3 years

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Hey!! So can I ask like a personal writing question? I recently got back into writing (inspired by your fics actually) and I was wondering how do you balance build up and tension to smut?? And do you ever look at your stories and go this is too much smut?? I just want the story to flow well if that makes sense lolol Absolutely ADORE your writing and I hope you have a very wonderful evening!! Ps if you don’t want to answer absolutely no hard feelings🙂 much love!😙

Hello dear and thank you so much ❤️I’m honored to have inspired anyone and you guys fill me with so much love!

I’ve never hit a point in my own stories where I felt like there was too much smut,a lot of the time I actually feel like my stuff could be longer I’m just immensely impatient and I usually wind up steamrolling through and saying,eh fuck it I want to post this.I have gotten better about that lately though,and I think it’s one of those things that you just get better at the more you do it.It’s also probably a matter of opinion,there’s probably people who have thought my content has too much or too little,is too long or too short.For me personally it takes a colosall ton for me to hit the point of saying,okay I’m tired of reading about sex in fanfiction,like 200k+ too much,I like long fics,I like smut,this is of course a personal opinion.

For pacing and flow I work entirely off emotional points,in both my oneshots and my longer fics.What this means is when I come up with a fic idea I usually formulate a rough plotline in my head,and for longer fics I physically write it out,and also think of the feelings/feeling realizations/emotions I want the character to experience in the story.For shipping fanfiction specifically we read them for the romantic emotions they invoke,and so I tend to revolve my fics around the emotional journeys or moods I want to invoke in my readers,or the emotoinal journey I want the character to experience.

I’ll use The Red Right Hand as an example for my process since I was actually pleased about my pacing for it lol My basic plotline I formulated was that Obi-Wan falls to the dark side and becomes Galactic Emperor,Anakin falls and follows him,they’re romantically involved,it’s unhealthy and controlling.Anakin betrays Obi-Wan,he is brought before him to be held accountable for it and is publicly humiliated through sex,tada--my brilliant plot.

But that wasn’t the bam-bam-bam points I wanted to hit. Simultaneous with that my goals were to take Anakin through the emotional steps of fear->anxiety->unsureness->terror->embarrassment->humiliation->humiliation over liking it->loss of control from pleasure.For Obi-Wan, while his emotional journey is less clear because it’s not from his perspective, I wanted to take him through at least, anger->fury->jealousy->possessiveness->pleasure from ownership.So when I write my fics,I try to weave my emotional hitpoints with my plotpoints and I don’t like to hit the smut until I’ve hit several emotional points until they’ve built towards desperation or loss of control.Sometimes I write a fic and while editing it realize I haven’t quite fleshed out the emotional journey as well as I should,and I usually find myself going back and buffering it out.

For me personally, what I really enjoy in smut is a sense of desperation and franticness, so when I’m building the tension in my story I’m usually trying to draw in the protagonist’s scope of thought and attention to their increasing need and want.So what that looks like is world building in the first couple to first five pages or so,with the sexual tension introduced about page 3 to 7 and by page 5 to 10,depending on the word count of the fic,the entire scope of the plot has narrowed to the situational plot that is leading to the actual sex happening.So I start broad,here is the alien planet wer’re on or the timeframe of the clone wars wer’re looking at,okay here is the situational foil that is antagonizing the character,okay but juxtaposed with that here is what they are preoccupied with and then ohmygod I’m going to crawl out of my skin I’m so desperate and that usually breaks with sex shenanigans.

That’s the basic structure for This Was Obi-Wan,Cross-Wired,Lifeblood,For Your Pleasure,and the Red Right Hand,and it’s the structure of the oneshot I’m working on now.Of course every author has their own thing and everyone works differently,but that’s my go to for my pwps that I work from.I really enjoy other pacing and structure from other authors and it’s always fun to play around with,but I hope that helps or gives you some ideas!

#my fanfic stuff #on writing #anons

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Stupid For You, Chapter 1 (Crygi/Jankie/Jaida x Nicky) - Metaluna

A/N: Hi, everyone! I’ve been having horrific writer’s block for Wasteland, Baby and along the way started writing this! It’s a nice change of pace from writing about the end of the world!

Summary: It’s the summer before Gigi goes to college, and she decides it’s time to take a job at a local amusement park. There, she meets Crystal, a beautiful girl that she with bonds over the anxiety of the service industry. Almost immediately, Gigi gets it BAD for Crystal. Meanwhile, Jackie definitely ISN’T gay. She likes men. Only. Men. What happens when a beautiful girl named Jan comes into the picture? And lastly, Nicky flirts with anything with a pulse. Jaida falls for anyone who gives her attention. This is going to be one interesting summer.

Working at an amusement park the summer before college seemed like such a cliché. But, Gigi needed money, and a job was a job. It was either that, or working in a cafeteria at a performing arts camp, and she wasn’t about to serve chicken nuggets to obnoxious theatre kids all day. Between the two, she figured that working at Paradise Isle would be a much better first job.

It wasn’t all bad. At least she got to pick what job she wanted. As someone with immense anxiety, the thought of lifeguarding or working rides was out of the question. After hearing horror stories about working custodial and foods from her older sister, she’d settled on sales. Mainly because it was the only thing left to choose from, besides games, but Gigi knew she didn’t have the personality to get people to waste their money on games that were probably impossible to win.

The night before, Gigi barely slept. She was so nervous about her first job. She looked in the mirror at her tired eyes. While lying awake in bed, she went back in forth in her head on whether or not she should wear makeup, and if she did how much. After looking at herself, she decided a full face was in order.

After finishing her makeup, she made her way to her closet. Five identical outfits hung next to each other. They were absolutely hideous. No matter how good her makeup skills were, she was going to look ridiculous. The polyester shirt looked like one that the uncle that nobody likes would wear to the family reunion. It was a blue polyester polo shirt that was an obnoxious shade of light blue with palm trees on it. In the corner, it had the logo of the park. The polo did not fit Gigi well, and made her slender frame look like a box. To complete the outfit, the shorts were the same loud color as the collar of the polo. Just like the shirt, the shorts were too big. She tied her belt tightly around her, but she could fit both legs into one leg hole.

The finishing touch was her name badge. It featured an extremely unflattering photo, Gigi was pretty sure she was about to blink in it. Across the bottom it said GEORGIANA GOODE, SALES. The only people who called her by her full name were her grandparents, and her mom the time she had found her daughter sneaking back into the house one night after a party.

Gigi laid out the map with directions on her center console. She knew where the park was, she and her sister grew up going ever summer, but the employee areas were a mystery to her. Considering that she had a horrible sense of direction, she wanted to give herself extra time for when she inevitably got lost.

Eventually, she found her way. She was incredibly thankful that she only had a short walk to the HR office, because that means there was no possible way she could get lost. Once she was inside of the office, a receptionist instructed her to go into the conference room. There were two rows of chairs set up. The chairs looked cold and uncomfortable, the kind that would be found in a grade school classroom. There was an empty chair next to a girl with black hair and brown eyes in the back row.

“Is this seat taken?”

The girl gestured for her to sit.

“I’m Gigi.”

“Jackie.”

“Nice to meet you, Jackie. What’s your job going to be?”

“Rides. You?”

“Sales.”

“Is this your first summer at good ol’ Paradise Isle?”

“Yeah, it is. How about you?”

“No. This is year three for me.”

Gigi raised her eyebrows. “So you like it here?”

“Oh, hell no. This place sucks. But, I get a lot of hours and can save money for when I’m at college. That’s what’s keeps most of us here.” Jackie saw Gigi’s nervous expression. “So, the work here is terrible. But, you will meet some of the best people you will find here. There’s nothing like bonding with a group of people over getting yelled at things that are vastly above your pay grade.”

“Jackie!” a voice called. A tall, statuesque girl sat on Jackie’s other side.

“Gigi, this is Jaida. Jaida, this is Gigi. Gigi’s fresh blood. She’s going to be joining you in sales.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jaida began. “Listen. I don’t what all my girl Jackie has told you, but this place kinda sucks. But, the people are great.”

“Yeah she mentioned that. Why does this place suck so much?”

“Literally everything,” a voice chimed in. “Get ready to spend all day in the heat getting yelled at about things that aren’t your fault, and management that never has any idea what the hell is going on. It’s hell. I’m Heidi by the way.”

Before the meeting began, Gigi became acclimated with the others in the room with her. She learned Heidi was also returning to games. There was girl who was also new, named Widow who was going to games. Gigi met a girl with a French accent named Nicky who was hired in rides.

“Brita!” all of the returning workers squealed as a very tall girl entered the room.

“Girls, this is Brita. She is an icon. That’s all you need to know.”

“Jaida, you’re too kind,” Brita said, grasping to imaginary pearls. She continued exchanging pleasantries with all of the veteran workers.

A bubbly looking blonde enthusiastically made her way into the room, and dramatically plopped next to Gigi.

“Hi, there! I’m Jan. It’s my first year. I’m going to be in sales!” With the confidence that Jan had walking into the room, Gigi was surprised that it was Jan’s first summer, too.

“Me, too!”

Jackie awkwardly introduced herself. “Hi. I’m um. I’m Jackie.”

“Hi! Oh my gosh this, is so exciting. I’m just really happy to be here!”

“You won’t be after today,” Brita warned. Jan frowned.

“Don’t scare the poor girl. We all remember our first summer. We were so full of hope… before we were dead inside,” Jaida laughed.

“One last seat. Who’s gonna fill it?” Brita’s voice was full fake wonderment.

Just as she questioned it, a girl nervously made her way through the door. She had red hair, but Gigi could tell it was dyed. Gigi was surprised the girl got away with it, considering upon getting hired, she had to hire a contract to keep a natural looking appearance. Even though she didn’t think it was possible, this girl looked like she had more makeup on than Gigi did. The girl nervously sat down in the last seat available, the one right in front of Gigi.

“Hi,” Gigi began. “I’m Gigi. Is this your first summer?”

The girl smiled. “Yes! It is! I’m Crystal. I’m games, how about you?”

“Sales.”

Crystal and Gigi got to know each other better. They both had just graduated high school. Crystal had attended Gigi’s rival high school. They had playful banter about the rivalry. It turned out they were both going to attend the same university in the fall. They had just started talking about their majors when a woman entered.

“Hello there, welcome! My name is Michelle Visage, owner of Paradise Isle. I take great pride in this park, as it has been in my family for three generations. I think that this summer is going to be one for the books. We’ve got so many new hires, as well as a lot of familiar faces.”

Gigi zoned out as Michelle went on more about the mission statement of the park. The rest of the orientation was a blur. There were some safety videos, as well as some videos that were borderline propganda showing how great of a workplace it was. In one of the videos, Gigi spotted her sister in the background and smiled.

Once all of the videos were over, Michelle said, “Alright. Trainers, once you find your trainees, take them on a tour. Give them a rundown of the area, and what they’re going to be doing. You all have your training guides so you know what to cover. And again, to all our new hires, welcome!”

“See ya around,” Crystal said as she got up to join the Heidi and Widow.

Brita and Jaida got up and stood next to Gigi and Jan.

“Looks like you’re with us. Welcome to hell,” Brtta said with an overdramatic evil laugh.

“Don’t scare the poor girls! So, I’m going to be training you. The management apparently got really drunk together and decided it would be a good idea to make this one,” she motioned to Brita, “a trainer. That’s why there’s two of us. She’s shadowing me. How do you guys feel about… everything?”

Jan’s smiled so widely it appeared to take up most of her face. “I’m so excited! I used to spend all my summers here with my friends, so it’s kind of full circle to work here this summer.”

“I love the enthusiasm,” Jaida said. “How about you, Gigi, how are you feeling?”

“Honestly? Nervous.”

“Chile, is this your first job?” She nodded. “Jan?” Jan also nodded.

Jaida comfortingly put her hand on Gigi’s back. “As much shit as we talk about this place, it’s not all bad. You saw how close all of us are. We really are a big family here. Oh, and, between this and serving food to theatre kids all day? This is definitely better.”

“What’s wrong with theatre kids? I’m a theatre kid!” Jan whined.

“As a fellow theatre kid,” Brita began. “Everything.”

The trainers walked the trainees to the front of the park. Even though Gigi had spent just as much time as Jan, if not more, in the park with her sister growing up, the entire park felt different. The operating season wasn’t going starting for three more days. Because of this, the entire park was eerily quiet, which was a stark contrast to the loud music and screaming children that normally filled the air.

“Jan, I know you said you used to come here a lot how about you, Gigi?” Brita questioned.

“Oh I used to come here a ton with my older sister. She actually spent her summers between college working here. She did rides, but since she’s five years older than me.“

While on the tour, the four girls got to know each other better. Gigi learned that Jaida was studying political science, and that it was the summer before her senior year, meaning it would be her last year at the park. Brtta was going into her junior year. Jan and Brita realized that they were in the same musical theatre program at the same university.

“What are you going to study, Gigi?” Jan asked.

“Fashion design. My parents wanted me to have something to fall back on, so I’m double majoring in public relations, too.”

“Wow, I could never. I’m just ready to sing and dance my way through college.”

“Turn here,” Jaida instructed, leading them into the staff entrance of one of the shops.

Once inside, Gigi was surprised that the store already was completely set up. The shirts were neatly folded on tables, and absolutely nothing was out of place.

“This is the only time it’s going to look this nice,” Brita said taking a seat on the floor which caused everyone to follow suit.

Brita explained to Jan and Gigi that there were three stores that they could work at. One was the main store that they were standing in. The second store was a candy shop that sold caramel apples. Lastly, there was the shop where guests could buy their overpriced ride photos. She then went on to explain that at nighttime, there were also carts that sold products that glowed.

The group then went over to one of the registers. Brita took her time explaining how the POS worked, answering any questions along the way, making sure to reiterate that in order to use a season pass discount, they had to show a photo ID. Gigi thought that it seemed easy enough. Both Jan and Gigi got to practice ringing up fake transactions.

“Now let’s have some practice. We’re going to roleplay . Jan you’re going first,” Jaida said picking up a shopping basket. She went through the store and haphazardly threw objects into her basket. She came up to the counter.

Brita and Gigi took a step behind Jan as Jaida walked up to the counter.

“Hi! How’s your day in the park going?” Jan asked.

“It would be going better, if it wasn’t so busy, and everything wasn’t so freakin’ expensive! My babies are both crying in their stroller, and my husband and I haven’t stopped fighting!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, ma’am! I hope that your day gets better soon. Oh my gosh, this shirt is so cute it’ll totally bring out your eyes. This is one of my favorites that we have. Your total is going to be 25 dollars.”

“Oh, I have a season pass, so that means I get a discount, right?”

“Yes! You’ll save twenty percent today. Can I just see your ID with that, please?”

“I don’t have it with me. It’s in the stroller with my worthless husband and my babies.”

“Unfortunately, you need to have one in order to receive the discount.”

“That’s bullshit. I literally just got my discount and no one asked for my ID.”

“I understand that sometimes my fellow hosts don’t follow the rules, but unfortunately, both of us can get in trouble if I give you the discount, and I don’t really think that getting in trouble is worth five dollars, do you?”

Jaida crossed her arms. “I suppose not.”

Brita clapped. “Good job, Jan!”

“You’re a natural!”

Jan took a fake bow. Brita and Jaida switched positions. Gigi nervously made her way to the register.

Gigi’s heart was beating fast, even though she knew it was just a roleplay. “Hi.”

Brita raised an eyebrow, and with a pleasant tone said, “Hi! How’s it going?”

“Good.”

Silence. Gigi had no idea what to say or what to do.

“Uhh. Are you having a good day today?”

She sighed. “I’m really trying to, but The Jinn’s broken. That really stinks because my little Abby is finally tall enough to ride, and she was really looking forward to it.”

“Oh uhh. Sorry. Do you a season pass?”

“What?”

“For the discount?”

“Oh! Yeah, here you go.” Brita flashed Gigi a pass.

Without thinking, Gigi applied the discount.

“Pause,” Jaida said. “Gigi, you’re a little stiff… But don’t worry about that, it’ll come with time. But you forgot something really important.”

“Shit. I forgot to ask for an ID.”

“And that’s okay,” she said. “Just make sure you don’t forget. The management will let it slide for a while but that’s a fireable offense, so just always keep that in mind. But overall, nice job, you rang up everything perfectly.”

After a few more roleplay scenarios, Gigi began to feel more comfortable. She was still stiff, but at least she talked more. Still, she was envious of Jan, and how natural it all came to her.

Halfway through the day, it was time for lunch. Jaida and Brita guided the new trainees into the breakroom. Gigi didn’t know what to expect, but she didn’t expect every staff member area to be as dingy and decrepit as it was. The rest of the park was impeccably clean, and she’d assumed that the staff areas would be, as well.

Once they clocked out for their lunch, Gigi heard her name being called. It was Crystal.

“Come sit!”

Gigi made her way to the cold metal table. The chair was extremely uncomfortable, but she it just felt nice to sit.

“How’s it going?” Gigi asked.

“It’s… going! I’m glad we get more practice. I’m… a little overwhelmed.” Crystal almost looked like she was going to cry.

“Let’s walk,” Gigi took Crystal’s hand. “What’s up?”

They took a seat at one of the outdoor picnic tables. No one else was outside, because they were too busy taking advantage of the air conditioning.

Crystal started tearing up. “I’m just overwhelmed. It’s a lot of information and I feel like Widow is understanding it a lot faster than I am.”

“First off,” Gigi began. “It’s your first day, you aren’t going to be perfect. Second, stop crying. Your makeup is way too pretty for that.”

Crystal smiled. “You think my makeup’s pretty?”

“I think you’re all pretty.”

“Awe, I think you’re gorgeous.” Crystal took Gigi’s hands. “Thank you. For calming me down.”

“Anytime. Also don’t beat yourself up. I’m super overwhelmed, too. During training, I did something that would normally get me fired.”

Crystal laughed. “You’re doing amazing sweetie.”

Gigi and Crystal resumed their conversation from earlier. She learned that Crystal was going to study graphic design. They were both excited to move out of their hometowns and to start their lives. Halfway through their conversation, Gigi realized just how pretty Crystal was, and how nicely her hair flowed past her shoulders. And how funny she was, and how nice she smelled. How soft her lips looked… Shit. It was hard to focus on Crystal gushing about why Harry was the best member of One Direction when Gigi could only focus on the girl’s lips. Thankfully, Crystal’s lunch was over.

Gigi had a moment of bravery and pulled out her phone. “Hey Crystal, what’s your number? We should definitely hang out sometime soon!”

“Oh, totally!” Crystal took Gigi’s phone and put her number in. “See you around!”

The contact said “Crystal.” Totally normal. Next to her name was the sparkle emoji and the double pink heart.

This was enough to send Gigi into a gay panic. The rest of her lunch, Gigi just sat at her table. Unable to touch her sandwich. She decided to text Crystal so that she could have her number.

Hey girl, it’s Gigi!

Gigi reread the text seven times, and debated changing it. Did it sound too enthusiastic? In another moment of blind courage, she added the pink sparkly heart after and hit the SEND button.

Jaida, Brita, and Jan made their way outside.

“Time to go,” Brita announced.

The rest of the day was a blur. Gigi and Jan were shown the other stores, and some of the products that were carried. They were also shown where the glow carts were, and where they were normally stationed.

“Tomorrow, we’ll show you guys how to stock. Super easy, hard work but I really enjoy it,” Jaida said as she was walking Jan and Jaida back to the parking lot.

While getting into her Jeep, Gigi saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of her eye. She looked over and saw Crystal waiting on the curb, on the phone.

“No, it’s okay Mom. I can walk, no big deal! Love you, bye.”

“Hey,” Gigi said driving next to the car. “Need a ride?”

“No, that’s okay! It’s not far!”

“Get in!”

Once inside her car, Crystal said, “Thank you so much. It’s not far but my feet hurt.”

“Mine too. I couldn’t let you just sit on the curb like that.” Gigi passed Crystal her aux cord.

After methodically scrolling through her phone, Crystal landed on a song. It was a song by One Direction that Gigi wasn’t familiar with.

“Sorry. I’m a One Direction stan first, and a human second.”

Gigi smiled. God, she was so cute when she sang along to the song. Crystal realized that she was looking at her, and dramatically started serenading Gigi. “Oh! Turn just right up here. I’m the third house.”

“Wow, you do live close. Do you have a car?”

“I don’t… drive,” Crystal admitted sheepishly.

“Well, I can give you rides if you want, it’s really no big deal. It’s on the way home for me, actually!” That was a lie, it was in the complete opposite direction.

“That’d be great! I can pay you in coffee, validation, and love!”

“I’ll take it. Bye, Crystal!”

“Bye, gorgeous!”

Gigi got a text as she pulled out of Crystal’s long driveway.

See you tomorrow! Followed by the same heart next to her name.

On the way home, Gigi drove silently. She hadn’t bothered to connect her phone to the aux cord. She was too busy overanalyzing every single interaction she’d had that day. Gigi learned a lot on her first day of training, but the biggest takeaway she had was that she had a crush on Crystal.

#rpdr fanfiction #crygi #jankie #jaida x nicky #crystal methyd #gigi goode #jan sport #jackie cox #nicky doll #jaida essence hall #heidi n closet #widow von du #aiden x brita #teen au #stupid for you #metaluna #s12 #submission

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crazy-bi-btch · 4 years

Text

Wrong- BI!Kevin Keller X Reader

Summary: Y/N and Kevin seem to be confused and unclear on some of their feelings toward each other

Paring: Kevin Keller X Reader

Warning: NSFW, Swearing( Rated M)

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: Um helloo, let me just say COLLEGE IS TIME CONSUMING!! Itscrazy I really want tot write but the only time I have time is when I’m on breaks. SO HERE YA GO A REQ THAT WAS MADE IN SEP OR OCT IDK! Req. by@maximumwolfkidfestival

PS: LISTEN TO WISH YOU WERE GAY BY BILLIE, it fits with the story uwu

I sat on the fluffy couch in the lounge in RHS my black fleece turtle neck tightening by the second. My thigh-high boots tickling my bare thighs, my fingers clutching my coffee.

“ Jesus Y/N you look like you’re going to kill the damn cup.” Archie laughed at me, as I snapped back to reality.

“ You okay…. You look pale?” My best friend whispered (Fashionista, self-esteem coach, etc.) Kevin placed his hand on my pale thigh. My heart jumped in excitement and my eyes were once again stuck on his constricting sweatshirt. This is so wrong

I coughed and looked away from him trying to concentrate on some random conversation Fangs had started with Archie and the others. Kevin took offense to Y/N silence. He thought maybe he had done something wrong.

Ever since Joaquin (his the last boyfriend) the only serpent friend, he had that understood him, was just him. Well, we all know what happened to him. Kevin realized the serpent’s understood and supported him like no one before, not even Betty. With dating a serpent you get to meet the others. So he meets Fangs, Ton, and Sweet Pea. Also, Y/N or as “fresh snake” as they called her at the time. But it wasn’t Joaquin had to leave when Kevin got closer with Y/N, clearly, they had a lot in common. Kevin was happy around his new friend. Y/n, on the other hand, she was happy but very confused. See she meet him when he was dating Joaquin, so she assumed he was gay. Ignorantly when Y/N saw him walk through the White Wyrm doors with Joaquin she assumed “ so not gay”.

Y/n remembers the exact day, her second day as a serpent chit chatting with Toni and see them both strut in. Kevin is taller and muscular than Joaquin. Instantly her eyes wandered to his arms and Adam’s apple that seemed to bop furiously from anxiousness. She was not gonna lie, he was extremely attractive. Her heart raced as she thought of many things she could do with that tall glass of-

“ Family…” Joaquin yelled, calling everyone’s, Kevin seemed extremely nervous now,” This is Kevin. My boyfriend.” I gulped eyes wide.” Well, maybe he is gay?” Toni snickered at me as she saw my reaction. I rolled my eyes and walked away from the now growing group surrounding Joaquin and his new hot boyfriend. The night was full of small talk and laughter with J’s new boyfriend.

As I decided that this whole love Fest going on was spoiling my drinks and mood, I plopped and started to make my way out saying a quick goodbye. Yes, I am bitter. Yes, I hate to love and anything to do with public affection. It makes my blood boil, okay, maybe jealousy makes me bitter but doesn’t everyone? Back to the story!

When I was on my way out Joaquin ran to me with Kevin following along.

“ Hey, Y/N wait up!” I rolled my eyes, but plastered a fake smile and turned around. Trust me I was done with J rubbing into our faces how hot his new Northside boyfriend.

“Hey j!” I exclaimed

“ I wanted to introduce you to my boyfriend!” I gulped and looked up at Kevin’s buff and tall figure. I swear I could be drooling.

“ H-hi” I coughed and extended my hand towards him and he gladly took it.

“ It’s really nice to meet you! Joaquin talks great things about you!” His soft but deep voice stated as his smile lit up the room. God, why was I not born a man!

“ Thank you.” I blushed, but realized it was wrong for me to feel this way. “ Well, see you around guys I’m going to head out.” They nodded, and I turned towards the doors and out into the chilly night.

I think we all know what happened to Joaquin and how he deciding to run away from hid problems were going to help. Kevin was devastated and who was there to console him? Me out of all the people. Jughead soon, then took orders into his own hand to rile and control the serpents. Once we settled into Riverdale high things got rocky with the Northsiders trying to accept us, but Kevin helped me out. We both knew the serpents and Nortsiders were both jealous of each other which made us the outsiders of the drama. Our friendship grew so immense that I didn’t realize until I was having sleepovers and mini-dates almost every day. What I did know was the way his smile made my knees weak, how my heartbeat raced as our eyes met in the hallways. Or the butterflies the rumble in me when we work out together and he takes his sweaty shirt off. I would make myself deny the aching feelings every day telling myself He’s your gay best friend it can’t be like that.

Now do you see why this friendship is hurting me? Sitting there watching as my friends talked and laughed and me bubbling with anger. They could have whoever they wanted yet I couldn’t. The knot in my throat, killing me.

“ I have to go.” I took my backpack and stormed out, leaving everyone shocked and silent.

I ignored everyone’s texts and comments. I decided I need some time alone and away from Kevin. So I hit up Reggie in look for a house party to attend to get drunk and make out with a stranger so the pain would go away. He replied quickly with an address and time. Bingo.

I dressed in a black lace bodysuit with black ripped jeans and red heels. My long black hair hugging around my cleavage, I felt like the hottest bitch on the block. By 10 pm I walked through the mansion of a random football player packed with people, music loud as could be, kegs around the house and chanting of boys mixed in also. I saw Reg and Instantly walked over.

“ Damn, Y/N you’re looking hot!” He chirped as he gave me a hug, let me just say Reggie has been nice to me since I saved his ass from his abusive father. I threatened to call the cops on his father as I showed him the pictures of Reggie’s bruises that I could easily turn him in with. “ Thank you!” I chirped in amusement.

“ Hey the group was asking for you they said you-”

“ Wait!” I spat, the group? They were invited also! I panicked and started to look around furiously.

“ Yeah, I invited them!” I glared at him and stormed into the huge kitchen and found as a bottle of vodka and took a huge gulp from it. By the third gulp, I felt myself become light as a feather. I impulsively walked towards Reggie again, he was with our group of friends talking, Kevin was listening also while he glanced around looking for someone. My drunk ass butted in, “ Hey guys what a coincidence. “ Before I let them answer I wrapped my fingers at the collar of Reggie’s button-down and kissed him hard. Adrenaline pumping and red lipstick smeared on Reggie’s lips. I pulled him closer and as I open one eye I saw as they stood again astonished, and Kevin seemed confused and hurt?

“ C’mon Reggie..” I whispered and I pulled him towards me as he dazedly followed.

We instantly found a wall close by where minimal people passed through. My lips tangling onto his, my hands grabbing his hair as soft pants left me.

I pressed his chest, back disconnecting our lips, “Let’s get more booze!” I squealed, but as I took a step I almost fell. Reggie sighed and help me up.

“ I think we’ve had enough tonight.” I whined and tried kissing him, because well I’m drunk and horny. Reggie knew he couldn’t take advantage of her friend like this and the real person she loved and wanted was her best friend, Kevin. What Y/N didn’t know was that Reggie and Kevin had a talk 3 weeks ago where Kevin confessed he is bisexual but was scared to show his love and sexual feelings towards a girl since he mostly felt that towards boys. Reggie needed that to realize Y/N and Kevin were too scared and confused to let each other feel. Reggie carried Y/N as she sniffled and whimpered as she seemed to mumble something about ‘fuck love’ or ‘ I hate him’. Reggie saw an annoyed Kevin but his expression soon changed as he saw Y/N drunk and in his arms.

“ What the hell happened?” Kevin growled as he took Y/N from Reggie.

“ Dude, relax, nothing! She’s really drunk and I think she needs you more than me.” Reggie calmly stated. Kevin gulped and saw my drunk state.

“ You! Kev..” I slurred and felt my eyes droop in slumber.

Next thing I knew I woke up in Kevin’s room, I looked at the clock and it was 2 am. I rubbed my eyes and saw him sleeping on his computer chair with a small blanket wrapped around himself. It wasn’t the first time she’s seen him peacefully sleep. I felt great, I thanked God that I didn’t drink more or I would have felt like hell. I felt guilty for leaving him hanging and lowkey was panicking if I was drunk enough to tell him how I felt. To avoid the conversation I slid off his bed and picked my heels up as I tiptoed out.

“ So you’re just gonna leave?” I heard a gruff voice. I cringed and turned around to see him sitting in the same spot the blanket in his hands now.

“ I can-”

“ Please do… I don’t know what’s going on Y/N? What happened to us?” His words hit an emotional string in my heart, which led me to tear up.

“ I’m sorry- I wish I could explain.” I sat at the edge of his bed avoiding his sight.

“ You act like we never tell each other everything!” His voice boomed making me flinch.

“ That’s the thing! I can’t fall in love with my best friend!” I yelled back tears falling down freely, my face became red from embarrassment. Kevin looked down his face matching hers.

“ I know you don’t-“

“I do, though.” Then there was silence as I looked him dead in the eyes. It felt like a dreamlike, this whole situation was merely a figment of my imagination as it’s been in the past.

“ Y/N…. I’m bisexual.” He sighed, his eyes watering. I took some steps to be face to face with him touching his face in awe.

“But-“ I suddenly feel out of breath. I racked my brain at the many times Kevin missed Joaquin and his past flings.

“ I never told anyone… because I was never sure... My first crush was a boy and well, I never understood the whole labels of gay or bi or pan..” I intensely watched as he also racked his brain to explain his feelings and thought that he stored away, “ I put my dad through hell when I came out as gay and know that I know I’m bi… he’s gonna hate me and you! I was scared to lose you!” I proclaimed almost begging. I smiled at him taking his hands in mine.

“ Neither will your dad or meleave you.” It seemed to comfort him enough that he sighed in relief. But I would be lying if I didn’t say this whole argument and emotional connection brought my raging hormones to an all-time high. I went in to hug him and he wrapped his buff arms around also.

“ So… we’re gonna ignore how you confess you loved me.” Kevin teased which made me hide my face like a five-year-old.

“ It's not my fault your extremely hot Kevin!” I squealed as I pulled away from him. He chuckled and threw me on the bed, making me squeal and bounce slightly. We both lay there on his bed, staring at each other with silly grins on our face.

“ I love you.” He said

“ I love you too.” I chirped, the butterflies rumbling in me again. His eyes seemed to wander down to the outfit I still had on that almost caused a nip slip right in front of him. I blushed madly and instantly shot up to cover myself. His knees dipped the bed behind me, his hands caressing the back of my neck as they ghosted on the black spaghetti strap of the lace bodysuit. My eyes closing in anticipation waiting for his hands to touch more of me. His hand, bringing my hair to onside as he lowered his face to my neck, his hot breath tickling it.

“ You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to do this…” his lips feathering against my pressure point practically making me shake. Bravery seemed to seep into my blood as my hand came up to pull one strap of my shoulder and followed to the other. Kevin watched, in his head, taking notes. I turned on my knees seeing him face to face.

“ It’s my first time with a girl…” he gulped feeling ashamed. I smiled and caressed his face and pulled it away to pull my arms off the strap and pull the lace down around my waist exposing myself to him. He gulped his eyes glued to my chest, and something in both of us snapped. Call it frustration or hormonal overload, but we both felt it. Our lips clashing his big hands cupping my face with full force. He held on as if his life depended on it, my sighs and whimpers spilling out as his forceful touch sent electricity through my body and core. Kevin shoved his hand around my neck, squeezing as he watched with hooded eyes my reaction. I moaned loudly, “ Kev, please.” With one shove, I was on my back, pillows under me as Kevin crawled off me and placed himself between my thighs. I leaned up watching as he pulled his sweater and button-down shirt with full force and down cupping my chest. A cry fell through my lips as I stared at Kev in disbelief. His strong and soft hands vigorously palming and pulling making my eyes roll back and backache. For his first time with a girl he sure knew what to do.

“ Tell me if I’m hurting you.” He suddenly worried at my constant whimpers. I shuddered when he stopped.

“ Kevin harder…. Please, it doesn’t hurt, I promise just… touch me.” I cried in frustration pulling on his shoulder to meet his hots lips again. His left arm skimming the side of my body to my hip, leaving goosebumps along the way. A deep groan left him as my hips bucked up towards his trousers, only making me do it again and again. Kevin pulled away eyes closed with his mouth a gap as I watched his reaction as we grinded hard and fast. I knew this would legit push him to the edge, but I couldn’t stop.

“ Ah-” His voice cracked as he fisted my hips to a halt as he felt that familiar knot grow.

He glared at me as I playfully smirked up hands running up and down his abs.

“ You almost made me-” He panted in anger, I eagerly shook my hips away but it was no use. “ I’m in charge, not you.” He growled. I cocked my eyebrow as leaned back into the pillows.

“ C’mon Kevin, you know you like it when I edge you on,” I whispered innocently with my lower lip between my teeth as I touched my boobs. He groaned and melted at the sight, his fist ripping my belt and jeans off so quickly it scared me. I went ahead and wrapped my hands around his belt and jeans also pulling them down as we both panted in anticipation. I always saw the imprint of his dick, but I always assumed he was average, but was I wrong. Kevin tsked me when I went to the waistband of his boxers. “ Pleasee.” I begged my mouth watering. “ We waited this long, let me apologize.” He said as he nuzzled his nose onto my cheek and felt his hand lower to my olive-colored thong.

“ Fuck,” I whispered as my eyes fell shut, he seemed to freeze up because he didn’t move. I opened my eyes and saw them slightly unsure.

“ Hey, let me help you.” He nodded as he stared at my covered core. I took his wrist and guided it to the puddle that formed in my thong, biting my lip to hold back a sound. “ Now… p-put force with the pad on your fing-” A moan cut me off as he rubbed his pointer and middle finger. “ Shit… baby faster.” I hated and loved to be teased, but Kevins soft and rough movements were exhilarating. “ Like this?” He asked, looking at my blissful face. My hips bucked up towards his fingers, rocking back and forth. As he took that as a yes, he pulled down the only barrier between her and him. Frustrated, I took his fingers and spread my legs wider so his finger landed on the place I needed him the most. “ Rub it pleases,” I begged mercilessly, almost in tears from all the soft teasing. Kevin saw her distraught face and instantly did as told, almost moaning himself. She was hot, sticky and extremely wet. The soft nub her rubbed causing Y/N to fall back and become putty in his hands. He realized this was her spot, the spot he could use to his advantage. His fingers trying to mimic the number of movements he learned from straight porn.

“ Fuck-fuck shit Kev-” I cried watching as his fingers pressed down and went side to side on my clit almost convulsively good. Kevin rested his forehead against hers watching her eyes wide and mouth wide. “You’re so beautiful… only I make you this wild, right?” I nodded viciously staring into his soft eyes as I held my legs apart felling myself about to cum. A cry of his name signaled Kevin to stop. Anger poured in as he pulled away to look for a condom.

“ You fucker.” I growled in annoyance, I heard him chuckle as he looked through his drawer, “ Oh, it’s not funny.” I shot up and walked towards him right as he was going to turn around I push him up against the wall getting on my knees.

“ Wait-” Kevin began, but I cut him off as I shoved his boxers down and shoving his pink tip into my drooling mouth. Kevin hissed and clawed at my scalp, eyes wide as I took him in and out and fingers probing in and out of his butt. “ Shit… fuck…. Don’t stop.” he growled as his hips began to thrust into my hot warm mouth.

Kevin was on cloud 9 watching as her small mouth took him so well. Joaquin could never take him fully and this was life-changing. My core dripped down my thigh as I looked up to see him fully vulnerable, abdomen clenched, his eyes closed and mouth open. I pulled away with a plop and got up turning around, heading towards the door to the bathroom.

“ What the fuck-” He cried, I turned around innocently.

“ What?” I batted my eyes. His strong arms pulled me back and onto the bed where he pinned me down, his strong thighs pushing my legs apart. His mouth, biting and nipping down my neck, my nipples, and stomach. I watched contently as he tried to wrap the condom around himself.

“ I’m on birth control Kevin.” I sighed knocking the condom off his hands and taking his red/pink dick towards my entrance.

“ But-”

“ It’s fine, I want to feel all of you.” With that, he thrust in easily into my dripping core.

“ Fuck!” We cried as we held on to each other, eyes shut. Kevin never felt this before the hot wet and clenching feeling around him. He could cum just with that. And he wasn’t lying about that as he shook from holding on. I wiggled my hips so he could move, with that he moved out and in slowly his pelvic bone rubbing my clit. “ Ah! Harder… faster” I pleaded scratching his back. Kevin didn’t think straight before going faster and pounding more than ever. His huge member burying deep into the g-spot that wasn’t hit in years.

“ Fuck yeah…” Kevin muttered and panted as he wrapped his hand around her neck. Her face contoured into pure bliss. His pupils were blown as he saw her weak and vulnerable under his touch. Her hair spread around her pink cheeks. His mind seemed to only be there, present, as he pushed and buried into her feeling this new adrenaline to sex he never felt before when he slept with men. Her legs wrapped around him, her hands all over him and eager to have anything else push her over the edge. God fucking damn how he wanted to frame this mental picture of her.

“ Oh...shit… Kev... I’m going to…” I pried at his chest and my legs around his torso tightening. Kev growled and dropped his head into her chest as her walls twitched in anticipation around him. My hand instantly ran in between our bodies to rub insanely fast to come undone.

“ Ah fuck” Kev yelled as he grounded his hip a few times before I came around him, legs twitching, nails scratching, head back moaning and screaming. He followed along coming undone in me. We both lay there breathing heavily, eyes closed.

As we peeled off each other we stared at each other followed by giggles.

“ Well,does that mean we can finally not be angry at each other?” Kevin asked teasingly. I chuckled softly and pulled the blankets around us.

“ Hmm, maybe I’ll sleep on it,” I mumbled as I cuddled close to his warm body. He instantly engulfed me in his arms and stroked my hair kissing it softly.

“ I love you.”

“ I love you more… Goodnight.” I yawned.

#kevin keller x reader #riverdale smut #riverdale southside #sweet pea smut #riverdale #jughead jones #toni topez #Cheryl bombshell #betty cooper #fangs forgarty x reader #joaquin desantos #southside serpents

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