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wolf-zer0 · 3 years

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Ya want some WORLD-BUILDING????

Have some world-building!

*REMINDER* This is based on characters, not real people. I’m not going to be writing any shipping/smut content, especially involving minors. Please be respectful of content creators’ boundaries!

The Crystallos Empire (AKA the Antarctic Empire)

Largest the countries (takes up most of the southern half of the map) but agreed to stop expansion after a bloody battle with Valeriana

Centered on a large snowy mountain in the middle of the tundra

Mostly stays out of other countries’ business, but will step in as a last resort

Has some of the most well-known citizens in the world because… they’re pure chaos

Attack at your own peril

Has vast deposits of ores and gemstones, and the metalwork from Crystallos (mainly weaponry, armor, and jewelry) is highly sought after

The only known food export is potatoes. Wonder why…

Associated Colors: Royal blue, light blue, crimson, gold

Aesthetic/Vibes: gothic vibes, white stone and large stain glass windows, not particularly opulent or extravagant but still impressively royal looking, think catholic cathedral but brighter and with less Jesus (can you tell I’m a recovering catholic yet?), spires shooting into the sky that’s visible even during a blizzard, cavernous halls full of sunlight and echoes, snow that can comfort and kill in equal measure

Notable Members:

Philza Minecraft:

Angel

Visible wings look like a harpy eagle

Probably the most powerful person in the world

Didn’t mean to start an empire it kinda just happened

Also didn’t mean to adopt kids but his Dadza alarm went off

Usually kind but will not hesitate to use violence when necessary

Technoblade:

Is pig.

With braid.

At least 8 feet all

Extremely adept fighter, skilled in almost every form of combat.

Not a people pig, prefers his potato farm to being a prince

Hella protective of his family but will not hesitate to bully when given the opportunity

Wilbur Soot:

Muse who can influence people through song

Can’t totally control people (yet) but can subtly push them in a certain direction

The public face of the imperial family

Would rather insult than fight but can and will cut a bitch if he needs to

Because inspiration is fickle he’ll have some … strange episodes (see: the Sand Incident)

Tommy Innit:

Child.

Chaos incarnate.

Is he human? Is he not? No one’s sure yet.

But he’s a gremlin and a hellion and willing to throw down at any moment.

Has a surprisingly caring side, but no one outside his immediate circle has ever really seen it.

The Kingdom of Valeriana (aka Dream SMP)

Oldest of the countries

Located in the middle of a massive forest at the center of the main continent

Home of the Fae Courts

Ruled by a single king who is chosen by a tournament held every 100 years

Known for causing chaos in other countries, but after an Incident with Crystallos they have kept their meddling to annoyances rather than outright declarations of war

Considered the most magical of all the countries, and traditional enchantments almost all come from Valeriana

Associated Colors: neon green (duh), bright yellow, forest green, light brown, blood red (more saturated than Crystallos), rose gold

Aesthetic/Vibes: spooky art nouveau (idk what else to call it), lots of plants and nature but with an edge of danger, poison gardens and carnivorous plants, hedge mazes that lead everywhere and nowhere, laughter deep in the forest, deer with eyes just a hair too human, Alice in Wonderland on steroids

Notable Members:

Dream:

Current king of the Fae

As long as he’s touching the ground, he knows where everything and everyone is

Can terraform

Unlimited in the boundaries of his kingdom

Much more limited outside of his realm

No one has ever seen what he really looks like, even before he took the throne

Since people outside the kingdom don’t know who he is, he’ll wander the outside world and challenge random people to fights

Never says what happens to the losers

Only one person has ever beaten him: Technoblade

He might have a lil obsession around Techno, but it’s fine.

A little competition is healthy.

Sapnap:

High Lord of the Summer Court

Dream’s right hand man

Likes fire a little too much probably

George:

Human that Dream took a liking too and yoinked from the mortal world

Dream and Sapnap made him immortal but he hasn’t realized it yet.

Skeppy:

Changeling who started growing diamond-like scales across his body

Is vaguely allied with Dream simply because he’s Fae, but is more loyal to BBH

Like a lot of other Fae, likes to make challenges but he makes them less deadly. Not totally safe, just less deadly.

Badboyhalo:

Demon who was kicked out of hell because he was too nice

Found Skeppy in the Overworld and the rest is history

Cursed by the Demon King that the moment he says a swear word, the entire world would end, but can never tell anyone that he is cursed

The Merchant’s Guild

Not quite a country, more of a international power

Oversees the largest and most important businesses in the world

Makes sure that no laws are broken between different countries and everyone gets a fair shake

Has a very large reach, so some members have dabbled in espionage for various groups

From the outside it looks like the whole thing is kept together with duct tape and hope, but its actually pretty functional

The main members are just… a lot.

More concerned with keeping things working than influencing other nations (although there are still jokes about it)

The most valuable thing they trade in is information

They have a lot of fingers in a lot of pots, but are trusted with their information

Associated Colors: dark blue, teal, deep yellow, burnt orange, copper

Aesthetic/Vibes: art deco babie, angles and lines, very modern and streamlined, sleek suits instead of armor or robes, whiskey in a crystal glass, wars won by words not weapons, knowing when someone’s lying without them saying a word

Notable Members:

Schlatt:

Ram-man with a plan

Not that bad of a dude, but is in a position where he is constantly in possession of highly sensitive information and that does things to someone’s mental state

Drinks pretty regularly but not a full blown alcoholic

Trying his best

Can be a snarky asshole sometimes

Quackity:

Lucky duck. literally.

Duck man with an uncanny ability to absorb good luck from people (typically Fundy) and apply it to himself

No one knows when or why he joined the guild, but now he’s there

Pretty damn smart, but hides it behind humor

Fundy:

FOX!

With BEANS!

Trying his goddamn best but life (and Quackity) make it very difficult

Usually is stuck with the shit end of the stick when getting jobs/contracts/etc.

Wilbur being his dad is an inside joke that’s gotten a life of its own.

(No Fishfuckers Allowed!!!)

Puffy:

Badass sheep lady who captains a ship and commands her own armada

Schlatt’s sister

Also part of Storm’s Landing’s council and acts as the main liaison between them

Do not fuck with her she will kick your ass.

Storm’s Landing

Port city that became a country after becoming a safe-haven for seafarers

Led by a council of important people, with the head of the council known as the Admiral

Closest ties to Crystallos and the Merchant’s guild because:

1) Clingy supremacy!!!!

2) it’s a good idea for a guild to have good ties with a large sea power

3) all the dads for Tubbo

Associated Colors: navy blue, scarlet, white, brass

Aesthetic/Vibes: Nautical (obviously) with heavy “Age of Exploration” vibes, barnacles crusted on treasure chests, think tall ships and pirates and shit, respecting the ocean because holy shit she’s gonna smash your boat to pieces on a whim because she can, has an edge of darkness because when you go deep enough who knows what you’ll find down there (maybe mermaids???)

Notable Members:

CaptainSparklez:

elected to Admiral after the previous Admiral went missing on a routine voyage

(idk who it used to be, I just wanted to make him new at leading)

not 100% sure about the whole thing, but handling it pretty okay

still answers to “Captain” instead of “Admiral”.

Niki:

If Storm’s Landing had a queen, would be it unquestionably

Never gets robbed even though there’s a well known “underbelly” in town

Could probably end wars with her croissants

Has a significant history of empathic abilities in her family, so she can tell how people are feeling at all times

Eret:

Owns a magic store in town that really only shows itself to people who need it.

Having a bad mental health day?

He’s got a warm blanket and a cup of your favorite warm beverage waiting.

Dysphoric?

She’s got the perfect outfit and affirming words already prepared.

Trying to find that specific book but can’t remember the title or plot, only vaguely know the color of the cover?

They’ve got it.

Ranboo:

Not sure why he decided to move to a seaside city when he’s not chill with water, but now he’s here and he’s too anxious to leave

Known for teleporting around town randomly when nervous, and the people who find him are always willing to let a hand if he gets lost

Tubbo:

This boi! Has so many dads!

Epitome of “Kindness does not equal weakness.”

While a lot of people underestimate him, he’s not some fragile little flower

He hasn’t fully grown into his ability to speak to animals (he can only understand bees right now)

He’s just as much of a shit stirrer as Tommy.

When they meet up, look out. Something’s getting destroyed.

The Astral Academy

An independent university focused on advancing knowledge in the arcane arts and engineering

Not a country, but has the political power of one due to their vast resources and building prowess

People can’t enter unless they are invited or have been given entry as a student

There are a bunch of potential doors scattered around the continent that could lead to the Academy, but no one is sure where the real entrance is

Associated Colors: royal purple, lilac, sepia, sky blue, silver, bronze Aesthetic/Vibes: bright academia, massive libraries with bookshelves stuffed to bursting, workshop benches covered in scrap and prototypes, open air observatories, runes waiting to be translated, the crackling energy that comes from successful collaboration, falling down a research rabbit hole, bursting with pride after a project is a success

Notable Members:

Sam

Purpled

Ponk

Punz

Antfrost

Jack Manifold

I don’t know much about these characters, so if you have any ideas please let me know!

Zero’s OC Land - The North Haven

Smallest and newest country

Recently gained independence from under a cruel dictator (not schlatt lol)

Located in a pine forest at the base of a huge mountain range

Has pretty good relations with the other countries, but outsiders don’t know much about them

Main exports are wood carvings and leather goods

Associated Colors: Maroon, dark brown, black, pewter

Aesthetic/Vibes: medieval but with a modern twist, dark wood lit by a roaring fireplace, snow-covered woods without a living soul in sight, half timber houses and detailed wood carving, no outrageous ornamentation or extravagance

Notable Members:

Tyr:

Lord of the North Haven

trying to keep his people safe and protected

one of the few remaining Spirits (higher in power than the Fae, but lower than angels)

Spirit of Justice

lost a hand in the war for North Haven’s independence

didn’t want to become the leader but does a pretty good job at it

Adopted 5 kids and is trying his best

Bragi:

Heir Apparent

24 year old human

can influence the world by speaking (not singing) but has to be careful about which words he uses

has a book full of phrases that have proven effects (a spellbook of sorts)

has a friendly rivalry with Wilbur

Freya:

Spymaster

actually the oldest but abdicated because she feels she’s not the right person to lead a country

age unknown because she’s the last known [REDACTED] (it’ll be revealed, but I wanna build suspense)

has gyrfalcon wings and heightened senses

chronic insomniac

Forseti:

Official Librarian

20 years old

hybrid with an unknown entity

has black fingers with sharp claws

always wears gloves to hide them

can create portals to places he’s been or to people he knows (the second is much riskier, but not impossible)

knowledge sponge

wants to join the Astral Academy but is too nervous to apply

Odin:

Older Twin

The “Sensible One”

17 years old

Has an uncanny sense of direction

Can’t get lost no matter what

Can manipulate magnetic fields

Loki:

Younger Twin

The “Hot Headed One”

17 years old

can manipulate fire

idolizes his older siblings, particularly Freya

The Institute

Creeping around in the background

Up to bad things

Something’s going on in the world, but no one’s noticed yet

They will though… soon

Aesthetic/Vibes: minimalism (the worst kind of vibes imo), think laboratories or empty hospitals, harsh artificial lights and cold floors, labyrinths of monotonous hallways with no doors

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dragonologist-in-the-making · 4 years

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It Was Always You

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Summary: James has always been in love with the reader, and decides that the incessant flirting with Lily Evans isn’t working, so he steps his jealousy game up a notch.

A/N: I’ve been gone for too long (sorry!!) but I loved writing this!! I need to work on the rest of the requests I have (sorry it’s taken so long, if anyone cares enough about excuses I have a whole wheelbarrow full). This is part of @wreckofawriter ‘s writing challenge! My trope was fake dating, but of course I couldn’t do it so cliched and had to have a little twist.

Wordcount: 2.9K

“I think this is the year.” James Potter grinned, walking into the Entrance Hall with all the other Hogwarts students. Next to him, Remus rolled his eyes, Sirius shook his head in disbelief and Peter smiled sympathetically. “It’s going to work this year, I just know it.”

“Prongs.” Sirius started, moving through the throngs of students all trying to get to the Great Hall for the welcome feast, arguably the best feast of the year. “You’ve also said that for the last five years, and nothing has happened.”

“No, this year is different. Clearly, flirting with Evans isn’t getting me anywhere with y/n, I just need a new plan. I don’t know if I can pretend to be in love with Lily for much longer.”

They walked into the Great Hall and over to the Gryffindor table, where a y/h/c girl was sat waiting for them, a bright smile on her face. “I saved you all seats.” She gestured to the four empty seats around her as all the boys sat down, James taking his seat next to her as he gave a pointed look to Sirius, as if saying I told you so. “Did you have a good summer? I’m sorry I couldn’t come and visit James, my parents would barely even let me in the garden because of the war.” She chewed on her lip guiltily, her eyes wide and looking at him, making him feel like he was melting into a puddle next to her.

Stuttering, he waved off her concerns quickly, returning her bright smile and trying to stop the blush from rising to his cheeks as he turned to the plates which were now full in front of him, helping himself to large portions of food. The rest of the meal continued, the five friends laughing loudly as if their two months of separation had never happened, sharing stories and inside jokes. Once they had finished eating, they made their way lazily back up to the common room, all slightly sluggish from the long journey and their newly full stomachs.

“I think I’m about to enter a food coma.” y/n laughed, rubbing her hand on her belly as if pregnant, causing a laugh from the boys. “I’m gonna head off to bed, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” She waved goodbye, walking up the stairs to the girls dorm as the boys all sat on the sofa and chairs around the warm fire. Catching a glimpse of long red hair, James paused before he sat, uttering a quick excuse to his friends before he turned and walked across the room to where she was sat.

“I need a favour.” He said, catching her attention as she turned to look at him sympathetically and simultaneously irritably.

“You mean, me letting you flirt with me and follow me around for years in the hopes that you would get y/n’s attention isn’t enough?” She asked sarcastically, earning a guilty shrug from him as he sat in the seat next to her.

“It is, Lils, you’ve been actually the best to put up with me. I just, I need to do something a little more extreme, to see once and for all if she likes me.”

“James, you know I don’t like doing this to her, she’s my friend too and I don’t like playing with her feelings.”

“I promise this is it.” He felt his heart sink as he made the promise, to Lily and to himself, hoping that he would never have to face the consequences he was laying out. “Please, Lily, just pretend to date me for a few weeks, a month tops, and if nothing changes then I’ll accept that it’s over, and I’ll drop it.” He looked at her pleadingly, and after a deafening silence she finally nodded. He puffed out a breath of hot air, relief and hope washing over him, as he jumped up and pulled Lily into a hug, squeezing her tightly. “Thank you. For everything. You’re the best.”

“Don’t make me regret it!” She called after him as he walked back to the other Marauders, already lost in his own world of what could happen by the end of this month.

…

Y/n was walking with Remus from ancient runes to defence against the dark arts, discussing plans for the first Hogsmead trip of the year, the first time they could (officially) leave the castle since arriving on September first. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of James next to Lily. It wasn’t uncommon, he had been following after her for years, giving y/n much ammo to tease him with, but what stopped her in her tracks was that instead of Lily’s usual hard exterior, deflecting his compliments and his cheesy lines, she was laughing back at him, with this stupid, stupid grin, and was twirling her hair around her finger.

Remus stopped next to her, confused for a second until he looked up and saw what she had noticed. “Ah.”

“James and Lily? They’re… together?” She asked, her voice a little smaller than usual, slightly more shielded.

“They saw each other a lot over the summer, and I… guess she finally saw enough of him to give him a chance.” Remus explained uncomfortably. He, too (like everyone but James), had been against the idea, not wanting to play with feelings, warning that it was more trouble than was necessary. But, stubborn as he was, he wouldn’t give it up, and so here Remus was, lying to one of his best friends, for one of his other best friends.

Her face fell for a second, shadows flickering across too quickly for Remus to pick out exactly what they were. Jealousy? Hurt? Before he had time to decipher what he was seeing, she shrugged lightly, her shoulders lifting in a graceful movement. “Well, good, I’m glad she’s seen the real him. He deserves to be happy, he’s waited long enough for her.”

She couldn’t help the true, genuine smile that rose on her face at seeing the boy she loved so happy, his head thrown back as he laughed, his messy hair falling into his eyes as he brought his head up again, even as she felt the blade slice through her heart as she watched his hand reach for hers, a simple gesture tearing her apart so easily.

Remus seemed to accept her statement, and they finished their journey to class together, where y/n struggled to concentrate. James Potter finally had Lily Evans, so where did that leave her? She supposed, as she doodled little flowers on the edges of her parchment, that it was time to listen to her aching heart and try to move on.

…

It was hard for y/n to adjust to life with James having a girlfriend. As hard as it was for her to see, and it never did seem to hurt less, she cared so much for both James and Lily that she wanted them to be happy with each other. She had stepped back slightly from James’ life, not wanting their closeness to become an issue in his relationship, meaning that she constantly had to remind herself that the seat next to him was no longer for her, she couldn’t borrow his jumpers anymore (she had taken to stealing Remus’ in their absence, much to his own amusement), and she couldn’t hide in a dark corner of the castle with him whenever she needed a break from the rest of the world, and a comfort only someone who had known her as long as he had could provide.

She had forgotten, for a brief moment, after the Quidditch game earlier that day. Gryffindor had pulled through spectacularly in the first game of the school year, in large part due to James’ skills, and she had run onto the pitch to congratulate him like always, only to stop when she saw Lily get there first. She had waited until Sirius was next to her to go and congratulate James, trying not to notice how the exercise always sharpened his hazel eyes and how the wind always left his hair tangled.

It was exactly that, which had lead to the situation she was in now. She was sat in the common room, her fourth firewhisky in her hand, trying to let herself forget James for just one night. He looked distractingly beautiful in a simple t-shirt and jeans, and he was in the centre of the party, Lily hooked firmly to his side. He had caught her eye when y/n had walked down from her dorm, and smiled and waved, which had promptly caused her to hide in a corner nursing a bottle, hoping she could be left alone.

“Well aren’t you a depressing scene.” She looked up at the voice to see Sirius, who seemed flushed from alcohol too, smiling down at her as he leaned over the arm of the chair she was sunk in.

“Sirius, you get with a lot of girls, right?” She asked, a sudden inspiration and courage coursing through her from the liquid courage in her veins. He nodded, not drunk enough to not be wary about where she was going as he indicated to continue. “Well, do you ever get attached? Like, is it easy to just let go and move on? Do you even need to move on?” She could feel herself rambling, but couldn’t stop, and found she needed an answer from him more than she had known.

“No, most of the time it’s only a one-time thing, and I know that going in, so I don’t get attached. It’s different when you’ve been in love with someone for years.” He looked at her knowingly, and she glared back defensively.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She huffed, averting her eyes and scanning the crowds of the party, people dancing and having a good time. “I’m not in love with James.”

“Who mentioned James?” Sirius grinned as she groaned, realising that he had caught her.

“It’s nothing. I’m getting over it. Trying, anyway.” She sighed, finishing the rest of her bottle and casting it aside. Feeling hurt and desperate to stop the feeling, she looked at Sirius. “And I think I know where to start.”

She surged forward, pressing her lips to his, trying to ignore the rest of the party and focus on the feeling of his lips against hers. His lips, which weren’t moving. His hands, which had moved to her shoulders and which were gently pushing her away. He was sat next to her, and as she looked at him guilt flooded through her at what she had done.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you without asking.” Her hand flew to her mouth as she felt the shock begin to sober her up.

“No, y/n, it’s okay. It’s just, this won’t change your feelings, it’ll only make you feel worse.” She nodded, accepting his words and feeling even more despair at how far she had fallen for the boy. Sirius noticed and pulled her closer, tucking her under his arm as she took his half-empty bottle from his hands and drinking from it, managing to laugh at a joke he told her.

They both turned as they heard glass shatter behind them, and saw James standing there, hand still clenched as if he was holding a bottle in his hand, although it had clearly shattered in his grip. Sirius jumped away from y/n, holding his hands up and turning to face James.

“It’s not what you think.” He started, speaking low and trying not to gain the attention of the other Gryffindors, most of whom had assumed someone had just drunkenly dropped a bottle.

“I think you were flirting with y/n!” he shouted back, his words barely slurred, clearly more sober than the two of them. She had begun to stand up, although she wasn’t sure what her input in this conversation would be. After all, even though she hadn’t been flirting with Sirius, that was her choice to make.

“She was telling me how she’s trying to get over you!” He shouted back, clearly exasperated at the situation, laughing humourlessly.

“You – she – she’s what?” James sputtered, his eyes widening as he processed his best friend’s words. “You what?” He asked, turning to face y/n, who was equally shocked that Sirius would treat her feelings so carelessly.

“Nope.” She muttered, not ready to have this conversation, not when she was drunk, not in the common room, maybe not ever. Before anyone could stop her she was through the portrait hole and running through the corridors, not caring if she was caught, slightly hoping she would be so that at least no one could find her.

She slowed down, ducking behind a tapestry into a hidden corridor, welcoming the peace and quiet of the castle at night. She led on the floor, grateful for the stone cooling down her hot skin, closing her eyes and trying to pretend the whole night had never happened.

A few pairs of footsteps walked past her hiding spot, and each time she would tense up, not relaxing until they had passed her again and she was left in silence. She jumped, then, when a voice came out of the dark from the long corridor behind her.

“I know you can sleep anywhere, but I never thought you would try the actual floor of the castle.” After the small shriek that had left her lips at his unexpected appearance, she opened her eyes to see him standing over her, smiling nervously, one hand in his pocket and the other extended to pull her into a sitting position.

“Merlin, James. How did you find me?” She asked, and he gave her a pointed look once he had settled next to her, both of their backs against the wall of the corridor. “I’m going to burn that map one day.”

“No you won’t, you’re too impressed at how well the magic works.” He grinned at her, widening slightly when she couldn’t argue with his point. “So, I spoke to Sirius.” He offered, and y/n curled into herself as he brought up the one thing she was hoping he wouldn’t, but knew that he was going to.

“I’m sorry. I just thought, you and Lily seem to be happy, you know, and I want to be happy for you, so I’m trying to move on. But, I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore, if it makes you too uncomfortable to be around me.”

“We’re not.” He blurted out, and y/n looked at him in confusion. “Lily and I, we’re not together.”

She gasped into the silence, too consumed by her own thoughts to notice that he didn’t look at all bothered by this fact. “Oh James, are you okay? I know how long you’ve liked her, I’m so sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted.” Despite everything, she reached for his hand, giving it a short squeeze in comfort. As she went to let go, he held on tighter, and she looked at him in confusion.

“I never actually liked her.” He confessed, blushing slightly as she only became more confused. “I actually, um, like, love, you. It was always you. But I was scared, and I thought that if I paid attention to Lily, I might be able to see if you liked me too. But I could never tell, so we pretended to date, but you seemed to support that too, which was confusing. But Sirius told me what you said, he said that you love me. And, I knew I had to come and find you.”

Her head was spinning as she tried to wrap her head around what he was telling her, her hand holding his even tighter than before. She looked at him, the hopeful look in his eyes, the way his cheeks were flushed from a mixture of the alcohol and their situation. He leaned in closer, looking into her eyes. “Can I kiss you?” Unable to speak, she nodded, and for the second time that night her lips connected with another.

Whereas the first kiss made her feel nothing, this was the polar opposite. As the realisation of what was happening caught up to her, she felt the elation soar through her, making her light-headed with giddiness. Her hands wound their way behind his neck and into his hair, as his circled around her waist and pulled her closer into him. She gasped as his teeth caught on her lip, and he kissed her harder, more forcefully than she had expected, pushing her backwards. James reacted quick enough to put his arm out and break her fall, making sure her back didn’t hit the hard floor too roughly. She looked up at him leaning over her, pupils blown, lips swollen, looking wild, and she swallowed.

“Should we head back to the party?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“No way. I only just got you, I don’t think I’m ready to share you just yet.”

“Oh thank god.” She replied, pulling him back down to her by the shirt to her, not willing to waste one more second without James Potter by her side.

#wreckofawriter #clichemonth #harry potter #harry potter fic #james potter #james potter x reader #james x reader #james potter fic #marauders #marauders era #prongs #prongs x reader #james potter fluff #fake dating trope #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader

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currywaifu · 4 years

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𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: pink hyacinth 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: settsu banri/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 2.5k words 𝐝𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨: alyssa ✨, natasha, kat

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: flower shop part-timer banri and friendly competition between him and the reader. might make part 2 if i feel like it. 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: this work is a part of the flower shop event, a series of unconnected flower shop AU one-shots

As the flower shop grew more popular, the more difficult it became for you and your boss to manage everything by yourselves. Even though it wasn’t the holiday season, the orders seemed to increase every week— plus, managing the till while making a last minute arrangement and simultaneously giving people flower recommendations? It was no easy feat, that was for sure.

“Let’s hire someone to work part time alongside you,” your boss finally decided one day as she flipped through the accounting ledger book, “it’s not always the both of us will be at the store at the same time. We need the extra help.”

You hummed in reply, not thinking much of it at the time as you continued taking inventory. As long as they weren’t overly cold to you, you couldn’t foresee any problems. Well, except for maybe one, little thing.

“My salary won’t be lowered, right?”

…

You were expecting the new hire to be the stereotypical soft, sweet, fluffy looking person of whom grandmas would be drawn to. Instead, he was a guy wearing a purple, leopard-cheetah-whatever animal print bucket hat with a luxury brand logo right smack in the centre.

Aha, it really put the statement in the term statement piece. It certainly gave him a lot of impact.

You wanted to do something in between laughing and crying, but your boss probably wouldn’t appreciate either one. With some restraint, you introduced yourself with a bright smile, handing him a work apron you hoped was his size.

“If you ever need any help, just let me know,” you offered, leading him to the staff room so he could store his belongings somewhere and take off that dumb hat. “It might take you a while to get used to some things, but I’m sure you’ll get a hang of it soon!”

“I’m a quick study, don’t worry.”

There was something about the way he phrased it that made you intrigued. He said it in a pretty nonchalant manner, even his expression remained relaxed, but the moment your eyes met his you found yourself growing excited. There was a certain glint there that you recognised pretty quickly, and you had a feeling he did, too.

“I think we’ll get along well, Banri-kun,” you said, grinning in anticipation of the next few weeks. It would be an undeniably nice break from the usual routine work brought upon you.

There’s a visible upwards stretch on his lips, too, and though he replied to you with a “who knows?” something in your gut told you the feeling was already reciprocated.

…

Settsu Banri wasn’t lying one bit when he told you he learned things fast. On his first day he took the time to observe you first, watching you go about the different tasks for the day— from how and for how long you watered each plant, to how you went about choosing flowers to add to a bouquet, to how you interacted with the customers and how you subtly managed to convince them that yes, they did need that new and slightly pricey fertiliser.

The way he was able to pick up on the way you did things pretty quickly was something to be envied. Although he still lacked a lot of the stock knowledge and experience you had, he easily made up for it with his skill in… literally everything else.

He wondered what your reaction would be— would you be pissed? That wasn’t really his intention but he was pretty self-aware that some people found that annoying. Though he wasn’t overly concerned of what people thought of him in the first place, it wouldn’t sit right with him either if his co-worker on one of his first jobs didn’t like him.

You stood behind him, your critical eye peering at the way he arranged his flowers. Pink ranunculus and hyacinth, as well as some other filler flowers, laid out atop the worktable. With his choice of an off white Kraft paper, the assortment of pink decorative sheets, and the silver lace ribbon, it was clear that he was a natural— or at least he had a good eye for colour scheme.

“All this fit the customer’s price range, yeah?” he asked. Truly, he already knew the answer. It was easy to estimate the amount of wrapping needed for a bouquet of that size, and the price labels per material made things even easier. He even skimmed the flower language guide printed out to make sure his flower choices were optimal.

In fact, the real question he meant to ask wasn’t even whether it fit the budget or not.

Despite his confidence, he turned his head around if only to gauge your facial expression. You stood still in your spot for a few seconds; then you quietly moved from your station behind his back to beside him, your arm brushing against his as you took a closer look. He didn’t tense up from the contact, but he’s not completely numb to the sudden closeness, either.

Though he was planning on it already, his awareness of you definitely grew as he watched your reactions from the corner of his eye.

A normal person would’ve taken one look and end up deciding then and there if it was nice or not, but as he watched the narrow of your eyes and the way the pads of your fingers felt the texture of papers he knew not a single detail was going amiss with you.

He could respect that. There was something pretty admirable about someone completely dedicated to their craft.

“Yeah,” you replied, “right down to the choice of going for a thicker ribbon instead of something thinner. It’ll turn out pretty,”

As he was about to soak up your praise and reply in stride, you ended up surprising him as you followed up with another comment.

“Though I think your flower choice could be… better,” you commented coolly.

With an eyebrow raised, he couldn’t find it in himself to be offended at all— just plain curious in what you have to say.

“The customer asked for a non-rose bouquet to tell someone they’ve fallen for them because they’re so charming, so ranunculus and hyacinths best fit the criteria,” he explained, curious of how you’d critique his decision.

“The ranunculus was a good choice, but lowkey makes the guy seem shallow?” you pointed out, a shrug soon following. “Also, I wouldn’t go for pink hyacinth— the bouquet ends up implying the guy’s just playing around with the girl. If you went with blue, it’d show that he’s sincere about his feelings.”

Banri let out a little exhale of breath, crossing his arms as he leaned against the table to look at you properly. “Sense, doubt whoever’s getting this is gonna go as hard analysing as you though.”

You rolled your eyes before mirroring his actions, “You never know with these things, but… maybe you’re just upset you didn’t make the perfect choice?”

He huffed, but a smirk rose to his face just as yours did. Were you challenging him? He can’t say he particularly hates it, not when he’s steadily growing more and more interested in you.

“And maybe you’re just paranoid I’ll catch up to your skill level quickly,” he teased, amused when you don’t back down from his provocation. He initially wasn’t serious about it, but if you were down— “I’m sure I can make you admit to my skills in a span of a week, maybe even tomorrow.”

“Oh I’m too nice for that, I’ll give you the rest of the week to make it easier on you,” you cooed playfully, before ultimately coming to a conclusion, “wanna bet?”

“With what?

Your eyes flitted away elsewhere, looking a little too pensive for such a trivial matter. “I mean, I’m broke, but just betting for the sake of pride is boring…” you trailed off, and Banri couldn’t help but helpfully supply his two cents.

“Don’t people in shows usually ask for a favour or some shit with these kinds of things?”

You stared at him blankly. “I… I get what you mean, but not gonna lie, using the word favour makes it sound wrong—“

“Oi oi,” Banri interrupted, “don’t make me out to be some kind of fuckboy.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you let out a laugh that was light, laced with a hum of amusement at the matter, “but like, we don’t have to decide on anything now? Let’s just go with the flow. I’m sure I’ll eventually think of the reward I’ll get~”

“That confident?”

You shrugged, “not really, just optimistic… so, you game?”

…

Honestly, neither of you even set any rules or guidelines for your little competition; it was just a matter of you having fun competing with Banri over numerous things.

Who could convince more people to purchase gardening products they may or may not actually need were hesitating on buying (6-9 in Banri’s favour).

Who could recommend the better flowers (8-4 in your favour).

Who could compute and double check accounting and inventory faster (5-6, you told yourself you’re making it even today).

Who could create the better bouquet arrangement (somehow, a tie. Even with his fashion sense, he was pretty good at coordinating colours and patterns. You did have to stop him from using two animal print papers in one go, though).

Occasionally your boss would walk in the two of you bantering and critiquing each other’s work. At first, you worried she’d tell off the both of you (or maybe just you, since you were technically Banri’s senior in terms of experience), but she deemed it as ‘productive noise’ and let the two of you continue, even chiming in with her own opinions from time to time.

With her encouragement, neither of you held back.

“Oh, you accidentally cut too much ribbon— what a waste,” and “you missed a row in your calculation. Let me show you,” were amongst the common statements you said to each other.

A work relationship that was neither vile nor overly friendly, teasing at very least and strangely productive at most. You were quite satisfied with this turn out, a good way to stave off the boredom work could bring, but life had other things in store for the two of you.

Beyond either of your expectations, your dynamic would soon enough evolve into something beyond little comments exchanged between one another and one-upping each other.

…

There were always hints that beneath both of your competitiveness, there was a lot of thoughtfulness as well. Helping each other out under the guise of “showing them how it’s done”, or “I can do it faster”. Neither of you ever expressed it out loud, but gratefulness didn’t have to be said to be known.

It became less about playfully competing and more about just enjoying each other’s company in your own way.

“Hahh… it’s finally over!” you exclaimed, plopping down on a chair as you began fanning yourself with the closest piece of paper you could pick up. Even in the air-conditioned room, you found yourself sweating, your body unused to the physical exertion normally not demanded of you during work. Even your co-worker seemed exhausted— if the grunting noise he made was to be taken as a telltale sign.

Banri strode over beside you, looking just as exasperated as you felt.

“What kind of dumbass—“

“—decides to buy a bunch of pots,” you continued, halting your fanning motions as your fingers began aching again, “in the evening? What the fuck would you do with 12 plant pots?”

“‘xactly? Shit, didn’t realise those clay pots were gonna be that heavy…” Banri said, your eyes immediately drawn to his fingers. Ahh, he did end up doing most of the heavy labour.

“We didn’t even have to charm anyone into buying things this time,” you commented, before moving to the real thing you wanted to ask about, “by the way… are your hands okay?”

“This much?” he put his palms up, “is nothing~ had a lot worse.”

You don’t say anything in reply, merely staring at the small blemishes newly formed. It was minimal, pretty much shallow scratches, but it was there.

“Y’worried, babe?”

It was a slip of the tongue on his part, but neither of you seemed to mind. It rolled off pretty smoothly, and if asked about it he could easily say it was just a joke between the two of you— a little ‘affection’ to show how close you’ve gotten as friends.

Well, he thought, it wouldn’t be that much of a lie.

“No, not really,” you replied, mind too carried away elsewhere to pay any mind to the new pet name, “but you should still put on a band-aid or something.”

“Already said I was fine,” Banri replied, his eyes following your sudden upright movement as you headed inside the staff room. As he took the initiative to finish cleaning up so you two could head out for the night, the sight of you coming back out empty-handed had him befuddled.

“What’d ya even do in there?”

“So apparently we don’t have any stocked up,” you explained, quickly doing one last glance at today’s revenue, “so let’s stop by the convenience store later to get some… seriously, what if one of us gets pricked by a plant or something?”

If he decided to be honest, he would’ve told you that he already had one in his bag. A certain mother hen had forced him, Taichi, and Hyodo to carry one around and he’d learned a long time ago to not resist Omi over trivial things.

Still… it was pretty cute how you impulsively decided to go buy something because of him. There was no harm in hiding something to see this side of you more, right?

“Y’want me to come with?” he asked.

You turned around to give him a look. “Obviously? Then there’d be no point of buying it tonight rather than tomorrow.”

“Then take inventory faster… or do ya need my help for that, too?”

“Banri-kun~ you totally forgot to water the hyacinths, or do you need my help for that, too?”

Both of your comments are left hanging in the air, an, oddly enough, peaceful silence encompassing the room until,

“Might as well walk you home after this,” you turned around to face him in surprise, “it’s getting pretty late.”

“Already taking me home without even buying me dinner?”

“We’re going to the convenience store anyway, I’ll buy you something, whatever cold sandwich or fruit cup salad you want— my treat,” he joked, peals of laughter bursting from deep within as your eyebrows furrowed in incredulousness.

You rolled your eyes at him, but the smile on your lips betrayed your undeniable amusement. “Awww so sweet of you, but I can’t have you one-up me there. I’ll buy you the themed plasters— how does having hello kitty’s face around your fingers sound?” you retorted, easing yourself into laughter as well.

As the two of you walked along the sidewalk, side by side, you couldn’t help yourself from saying what’s been on your mind for the past week or so now.

“What we have is nice.”

Banri released a small huff, the corners of his lips stretching upwards. Even with its vagueness, the meaning rang clear.

“Yeah, I like what we have too.”

There was no need to rush into anything.

“ thank you for your hard work today at the flower shop! here, feel free to take home this pink hyacinth with you~ ”

【 hyacinth 】 games and sports, rashness 【 pink hyacinth 】 play

“ maybe you’d like some more flowers before heading home? ”

-ˋˏflower shop masterlistˎˊ- | -ˋˏfic masterlistˎˊ-

#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#banri settsu #settsu banri #a3! x reader #a3! banri #cafe: dessert menu #nathya's flower shop #a3! actor training game #a3! game

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neverlearnedtoread · 3 years

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Spin the Dawn

⭐⭐⭐⭐; me @ the main characters: so many things would work out if either one of you had a slightly more developed (emotionally, intelligently...) braincell....and one of you is FIVE HUNDRED YEARS OLD 😡🤬

Oh?? 👌😉😏

diversity!! richly described southeast asian inspired-setting. as a southeast asian myself im always into that sweet sweet asian-inspired worldbuilding

inspired by the myth of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl! at least, im pretty sure. the story itself uses a lot of other elements that don’t happen in the original story but i still got that vibe from the characters

i liked the main character, maia - she was a little feistier than she was cold hard BDE, but! she put her money where her mouth was when it came to a challenge, and worked hard for her victory

lots of weaving imagery, which i love - if you’re gonna have a protagonist who creates some kind of art, you better believe im expecting extensive metaphors and painstaking depictions of pouring your whole heart into something breathtakingly gorgeous, powerful enough to bring the masses to their knees

No.. ❌🤢🤮

male love interest is *hand-wavey motion* much older than the female protagonist, on account of him being a hot sexy immortal magic man. im not too annoyed by this, because the dynamic was relatively balanced in-story, but it does annoy me as a trope on its own merit. why does he need to be that much older, especially when he’s not that much more mature??

not necessarily a complaint, but an observation: some of maia’s decisions were very YA protagonist; as in, i needed her to stop using her emotions as an excuse. if you’re gonna do it for the sake of a good dicking down, at least admit it to yourself, woman! it’s okay to be H word. you and i both know you’re gunning for that ass. just stop lying to me

Summary: Maia, the lone girl in a family of three boisterous brotherss, is a talented seamstress poised with the skills and the drive to take over the family’s tailoring business. Only she possesses both the patience and the artistic flair for making the most beautiful of dresses - so when the imperial palace summons the greatest tailors in the kingdom to become the new empress’s official dressmaker, she disguises herself as a boy (Mulan-style!) to take her aging father’s place. After some Project Runway shenanigans, the emperor’s bride-to-be throws a perfectly staged curve ball on things - she refuses to accept the royal wedding unless her appointed tailor is good enough to complete an impossibly gruelling task - crafting three beautiful, handsewn, uniquely-designed dresses to serve as her wedding gift. Oh, and if that wasn’t a tall enough order for one lone (and relatively inexperienced) dressmaker - the dresses she has in mind are made from the laughter of sun, the tears of the moon, and the blood of the stars. So that’s fun.

Concept: 💭💭💭💭 The cover. The COVER. Whew!! I make no pretenses about being a shallow reader, and this cover hit. right. Her cover artist really doesn’t miss! The blues! The stance! The spinning golden thread! The blurb actually managed to curb my excitement somewhat because I can smell a protagonist-falls-in-love-with-someone-she-probably-shouldnt subplot like a freshly rotting carcass, but I took another look at the cover and thought, I’ve made worse decisions than this. I’ll read it for the weaving metaphors. No regrets.

Vague spoilers under the cut!

Execution: 💥💥💥💥 And the verdict is....no regrets! Guess I will continue to go on being helplessly shallow about beautiful book covers. I didn’t love this story, but it was a fun romp through a well-paced plot and a gorgeously detailed fantasy world (the moon, sun, and star imagery.....monkey brain says huhuhu sparkly things do bring joy and I believe that), so there was really nothing to hate. I’m not too desperate for the sequel (except that I really need to know if my babe Sarhai gets her happy ending) but I want to pick it up eventually!

Personal Enjoyment: ❤❤❤ This book took me 3 days to finish this after taking two months (two attempts! why didn’t I just dnf..) to finish To Kill a Kingdom. It got me out of the bad reading slump so well, so fast! I really liked the writing style - the cadence rolled, instead of stabbed (insert bad weaving / sewing metaphor here). However, I really could’ve done without the rapidly intensifying no-braincell energy (NBE) of the two protagonists. While I’m in no way opposed to NBE, the fact is that the BDE wasn’t strong enough to justify the lack of thoughts - I kept thinking ‘where were the two of you when they were handing out the good braincells?? huh??? HUH????’. Love made them stupid but not more unhinged. *deep sigh* What a waste of a good simp

Favourite Moment: I have the distinct memory of Lady Sarhai stomping around the gardens with a handful of arrows and dead hawks (doves? she was trying to shoot the enchanter if i remember right. BDE honestly) and Lord Xina following after being a simp. maia did some shit too but i was paying more attention to the important stuff

Favourite Character: its a close match between Lady Sarhai and Lord Xina. Lord Xina only appeared like twice in this whole book but damnit im probably more invested in HIS love life than i am with maia’s. maia can figure her own shit out, she’s proved capable, but that Lord Xina dude willingly chose to simp for a highly pissed-off, hotheaded viper of a woman, and that can only mean one thing: he is a Man With Taste. we have no choice but to stan! plus in the narrative it’s pretty clear to me that Lady Sarhai and Lord Xina fully communicate their next moves (desperate, desperate moves on a sparse chessboard, bless their lovestruck souls) to each other before they pull anything. Sarhai’s next moves are calculated, and defiant, and Lord Xina plays his bad hand in a losing game with such precision. I just *clenches fist* we love open communication and clear co-conspirators in this house!!

#spin the dawn #elizabeth lim #books #book review #booklover #bookblr #reading #sorry this is a little late ive been vibing out

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friday-ocean · 5 years

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Coffee With Sugar

Summary: An evening alone with Clint in the Avengers Tower promises to be especially quiet and cosy. If there wasn't a question burning on your tongue. Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader Warnings: Dirty Talk, Smut (+18) Prompt: “Pour Some Sugar On Me” by Def Leppard Authors Note: Wrote for @acciosnapes Writing Challenge!

~*~*~*~*~

10.43 p.m., Friday. One of those nights where nothing's going on TV. Nearly 1000 programs, Pay-Tv and all kinds of internet games, but no real interest in anything. Was it perhaps due to the variety of possibilities? Was the choice just too big? Never mind. It doesn't change the situation anyway, so why even think about it?

The warm scent of fresh coffee fills the modern kitchen with adjoining living room in the Avengers Tower. Despite the late hour, Clint and you had decided to have a cup of coffee. Even though they didn't think of sleep afterwards, the temptation was simply too great. You also wanted to take full advantage of the empty living room. How often have you had the opportunity? Tony and Bruce hadn't left their lab since last night, Sam, Steve and Bucky were on a mission and Natasha, just back from Russia, had been lying in the bathtub for hours warming up.

The coffee machine released a cloud of hot steam into the air and you take out the two large cups. "Sugar?" "Yes, darling?" "No. I don't mean that. Do you want sugar in your coffee? Clint turns his head so he can see you over the edge of the sofa, a mischievous grin on his face and laugh lines around his eyes: "Pour some sugar in it." You follow his wish and return to the sofa with the cups. "Hopefully you know I would have kicked your ass a long time ago if you weren't so incredibly sweet."

Thanksgiving Clint accepts the cup and takes a big sip: "Now you finally understand why I always want sugar in my coffee". Smiling, you lie back on the sofa, your head in Clint's lap. Cozy silence lies over you again, interrupted only by screaming or music from the TV. At some point you pick up your cell phone again while Clint keeps zapping through the channels. A blog entry in a women's magazine soon arouses your interest and you start reading. Not that you value the latest gossip or are always looking for new diet tips, but at least this promises to be more entertaining.

"What do you actually want to do again during sex?” Clint almost spat the sip of hot coffee out again, so surprised is he by your suddenly delicate question. Coughing, he tries to answer you: "What makes you think that?" You hold your cell phone up and Clint takes it out of your little fingers. Curiously he reads the first few lines: "Betrayed! That's what men really want in bed - but they don't dare to ask for it!"

Without asking you, Clint drops your phone on the other side of the sofa, far enough away from you. "Don't believe everything you read on the Internet." His eyes are on the TV again, a man in a bright suit tries to sell 'the best vacuum cleaner ever'. You raise your eyes, but from your lying position you see only Clint's chin and Adam's apple. "I don't believe anything on the internet. But you can talk about it! So, what do you want to do in bed - or maybe somewhere else?" You wiggle your eyebrows, your look mischievous.

Clint clears his throat that his Adam's apple is starting to hop. A slight blush forms on his cheeks, which you can only guess. Has Clint always been so shy? "You really don't want to talk to me about it, do you?" You pull your eyebrows together and don't let Clint's chin out of your sight. He had put his arm on your belly, his hand stroking along your side. "Why are you so eager to question me? Why don't you say what you want?

"All right, if you want," you put your hand on his arm, squeeze a little. Finally, Clint looks at you and you smile at him cheekily. Clint would never admit it, but that smile had thrown him right out of his shoes the first time. Of course, you're clever, funny, athletic, brave and funny too, the full dream girl package, but that smile is so unique and challenging that he'd fall right out of his shoes - if he had any on. "I want sex in the shower, or in the bathtub. I don't mind in Tony's whirlpool or under a lawn sprinkler down in the garden. Somewhere where we really get wet." "That's all?" You can clearly hear Clint's amazement in his voice and twist your eyes. "What does 'everything' mean here? It's about what we would like to do. And in a relationship like ours we should be able to talk about it - and it doesn't matter how strange or wacky our wishes are." When you admitted that you were in a relationship, Clint's stomach made a daredevil somersault. He almost had the worry that you would even feel it.

Clint thinks about his next words carefully: "I thought it was great when you sat on me a few weeks ago... and then you moved so much... up and down...", the last part of the sentence you almost didn't understand, Clint's voice became so quiet. "Well, look. If you hadn't said that now, I wouldn't have done it again. You were so quiet afterwards that I was already worried that I didn't like it! Clint snorts and pours his head: "I liked it so much that I just didn't have any air to tell you afterwards. And not enough blood in my big brain to make it clear."

A big grin scurries across your face. The memory of that night is still truly fresh. Soon you will surely take advantage of his confession. "If I can ride you like that again, I want to try it in the other direction." "You mean that I look at your ass?", at this performance Clint's eyes become very big. "Don't you want that," you sit up and look at him, surprised.

"Yes! I absolutely want that!” Gently Clint puts his long arms around your waist, pulls you onto his lap that your legs are left and right of his. "I love to see your ass, to stroke it, to knead it. If you knew what I wanted to do with your sweet ass..." You get even closer to him, your nose tips touch - finally you have him where you wanted him to be. "Then just tell me what you want to do with my sweet ass...", you purr against Clint's lips.

Below you feel Clint's muscles tense, his best friend pressing against your center. His hands glide lower from your waist, his fingers wander behind the cuff of your panties. "I want...", Clint's voice breaks away, his eyes scurrying wildly over your face. Behind his big pupils you can see what he wants to do with you. You put your arms around his neck, you scratch his neck. "Tell me..." you breathe and circle your hips over his penis in his sweatpants.

Clint gasps and squeezes his eyes tightly. You will still be responsible for his early death... "I want..." he starts again, sliding his hands deeper into your pants. His rough palms of his hands are stroking your soft buttocks and you shudder. His hands stroke so low that the waistband of your pants slides over your buttocks. He pulls your yoga pants and panties lower so that your bottom is free. It takes some acrobatic skill and you sit naked back on Clint's lap, your legs at his side again. Your spread legs allow Clint to see your pussy. His smile gets even wider, little wrinkles form around his pretty mouth.

You press your middle again on Clint’s covered penis to draw his attention back to you. "Answer me. Then maybe I'll allow you to touch my pussy," you say decisively. Clint rumbles and grabs you again, his fingers squeezing into your soft buttocks - his gaze piercing yours, his jaw tense. "I want... your sweet ass in the air. Your cheeks all red, from my blows..."

Heat rises in you and you are sure that a wet stain has formed on Clint's sweatpants. You already want to interrupt him and push his reward towards him, but Clint's grip becomes even tighter. In the morning you will surely find bruises on your cheeks. "You'll be all wet. So wet that your pussy drips. You'll beg me to stuff my hard penis into you." Whimpering you cling to Clint's neck. Again, you let your hip circle, demand friction against your clitoris. The tension in you becomes stronger and stronger.

"You have to beg - earn my cock. I will not be considerate. I push into you. Over and over again. So deep. You will moan, whine, beg. But I won't care." Clint's voice is nothing more than a deep rumble. His abdominal and leg muscles tremble with tension. His prick is hard under you and presses painfully against your middle, a big wet patch has formed on his jogging pants. "Your buttocks will tremble and shake. Still quite red from my blows. And then... With another deep blow I come into you - hot and as deep as never before in your life..."

The tension in you dissolves explosively in you - your muscles cramp together painfully before they slacken completely. Panting and moaning, you fall limply against Clint's body. Your juices stick to your labia, to the inside of your legs and the stain on Clint's pants is huge. His hands gently stroke your maltreated skin. Exhausted you try to wrestle for breath.

"If we're gonna be so open with each other..." Clint puts his forehead to yours, his voice is rough and breathless. "I don't like sugar in my coffee at all!“

~ Fin ~

#bell’s 2.5k challenge #my writing #clint barton #clint barton x reader #clint barton x you #clint barton smut #marvel #smut

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firemedicdiaz · 7 years

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Z is for Zoonotic Disease (26/26)

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS). Pairing: Reader X Bones. Prompt: Fic 26 of 26 in the CMO’s Log – A to Z series. Z is for Zoonotic Disease. Click here for a listing of all the fics in this series! Word Count: 3032. Rating: Teen+. Author’s Note: The last fic in round 1 of this series! I’m pretty emotional right now. This is the first time I’ve ever managed to finish a writing project I’d started, and I’m honestly kind of floored. I never could have done it without the support and interest of all of you amazing people. Thank you for sticking with me and reading these! I hope you’ll stick around for round 2: A to Z 2.0, and for other fics I post in the future! Cheers!!! (As an aside: the medications mentioned in this one can be found here.)

CMO’s Log – A to Z – Z is for Zoonotic Disease Your vision is fuzzy around the edges and your hearing is vaguely muffled as you walk unsteadily over the threshold into med bay. You’ve been feeling unwell for days with an on-again, off-again high fever, cough, aches, and chills, and while you’d initially thought you’d had the flu, a visit to the med bay a couple of days earlier had revealed instead that it was pneumonia plaguing you. At that time, you’d been given an antibiotic and asked by Dr. M’Benga to follow up once a day for a quick assessment to see how you were progressing, and so as ordered, you’re shuffling into med bay for a daily check, feeling worse than ever. “Y/N,” Dr. M’Benga calls from several feet away as he sees you wander in. “Come over this way, let’s sit you down.” The tone of his voice suggests that you look as bad as you feel and you slowly make your way over to the bio bed he’s standing beside and allow him to help you up onto it. Lying back, blinking away the harsh overhead lighting, you relax as he begins an assessment. Your head aches so badly that its affecting your hearing, and even so near your head the whirring of the tricorder sounds like it’s coming from underwater. “You’re not responding to the antibiotic,” Dr. M’Benga explains as he holds a holoscanner over your chest, looking at the x-ray image there showing him patchy consolidation in your lungs. “We need to keep you here and isolated until we figure out exactly what kind of a bug you’ve got.”

You groan at his words, wanting nothing more than your own warm, comfortable bed away from all the white and chrome, the background noise, and the antiseptic smell. His hand lands on your shoulder and squeezes gently. “I’m going to have Nurse Chapel move you into a private room and help you into a gown,” he offers. “I want to have Dr. McCoy come to see you as well. His expertise might help me to get you feeling better sooner, if that’s alright with you.” Your heart begins to beat a frantic allegro in your chest at the CMO’s mention. You’ve been seeing one another on and off for a while, but haven’t exchanged any deep, meaningful sentiments. Still, you’re involved enough that you chose Dr. M’Benga over him in order to avoid awkwardness and impropriety. You know, however, that if Dr. M’Benga is seeking the other doctor’s counsel on your case, things must be bad, and while you really don’t want things to be uncomfortable, you’d also like to get better as soon as possible, and so you agree with a single nod. Things happen quickly after that. Dr. M’Benga disappears from your bedside and is replaced with a softly smiling Christine Chapel. She’s gentle with you as she half-leads, half-carries you over to an isolation room off the main wing of the med bay. She murmurs soft reassurances as you’re changed into a thin, light patient gown and settled into bed with only a single blanket for warmth – we don’t want to feed that fever, dear. The head of the bed is propped up so you can breathe more easily and before you know it, a soft knock sounds against the door panel and Dr. M’Benga is striding into the room, closely followed by Dr. McCoy. “Y/N,” the CMO says softly, approaching your bedside, his eyes quickly taking in the numbers displayed on the bio bed’s readout. “I wish you’d told me you were sick.” “Didn’t want to worry you,” you mumble, the fever making clear speech a challenge. “S’not that bad.” His low grumble is nearly inaudible but his expression is clearly unimpressed. You watch him through half-lidded eyes as he repeats the scan Dr. M’Benga had done earlier, his features marring with concern. “Administer an albuterol neb, then keep her on two litres of oxygen,” he orders Christine. “Start a course of genericillin, and give her numinol tetramidaphin q four hours.” “Wouldn’t you rather use a tryptophan-lysine distillate?” Dr. M’Benga asks. “The corophizine hasn’t even touched the infection.” The CMO shakes his head, setting the holoscanner aside. “We’ll save the big guns for when we need them,” he replies. “Genericillin will be fine until a culture proves otherwise. I’ve got this, Doctor; please, leave me with my patient.” You can’t help but tune out more of their discussion as Christine steps into your line of sight and applies an oxygen mask to your face. There is medication mixed in with the oxygen – you know just by the taste of it as it hits your tongue – and you’re glad to see that breathing is becoming easier by the moment. She’s gentle as she places an IV in your arm and injects the medications Dr. McCoy has ordered. She’s done quickly and leaving you alone with him – it seems he’s finally convinced Dr. M’Benga to leave the two of you be, too. As the door slides shut on Christine’s exit, Leonard approaches your bed and perches on the edge of it, reaching out to cup your cheek with his large, warm palm. Your eyes drift closed and you sigh, the mask on your face fogging with your breath. “Next time you get sick, you leave it to me to decide how bad it is,” he admonishes softly. “You’re lucky you came in when you did today.” “Am I gonna live, doc?” You ask jokingly, your voice hoarse. “You’ll be fine,” Leonard assures you. “But we need to figure out what’s making you sick so we can treat you with the right antibiotics. Do you think you’re up for answering some questions?” You nod, watching the doctor as he reaches to remove the mask from your face, replacing it instead with a much more comfortable and manageable nasal cannula. Its soft prongs tickle a bit as they’re seated into place, but you barely notice them after a few moments. What you notice instead are Leonard’s warm, gentle hands coming to rest on your neck, his fingertips prodding, feeling how swollen your lymph nodes are, how hot your feverish skin is. “Tell me everything you’ve been experiencing since this started,” the CMO instructs. He steps away from your bedside for a moment, returning with a stethoscope. He offers you a hand to help you sit up a bit and immediately begins his exam, not wanting you to be sitting up for too long. You consider his query as he asks you to take the occasional deep breath, resisting the urge to cough. “It started off with a fever and aches four days ago,” you begin as Leonard finishes up and helps you settle back against the bed. “I came in and saw Dr. M’Benga and he gave me an antibiotic to take. Since then, my fever has come and gone. I’ve had a constant headache and a bad cough, too.” The doctor makes a noncommittal noise and works efficiently, keeping you covered nearly to the waist with the blanket while simultaneously pulling your gown up so he can press on your abdomen. His expression becomes even more concerned when he glances down as he thoroughly but carefully palpates your stomach but you’re distracted from the look by a sharp jolt of pain as his hand prods at the left side of your abdomen. “When did you get this rash?” He asks, pulling his hand away and gesturing to your midsection. You gasp as you glance down and notice a very dark and angry-looking red rash around your navel and off to either side. “It wasn’t there this morning,” you reply. “I didn’t see it when I got dressed a few hours ago.” Leonard makes another noise of consideration and pulls your gown down, tucking it back in under the blanket and pulling out a tricorder. He scans you quickly, pausing over your chest and abdomen briefly before reading through the results. The decrease in white blood cells and platelets and the increase in liver enzymes in your bloodstream worries him. “I think this is more than garden variety pneumonia,” he explains. “I’m going to look through your file and talk to Dr. M’Benga. I’ll send Christine in to get some samples for analysis and I’ll be back to see you in a bit. In the meantime, try to get some rest.” You sigh and nod once again, turning your gaze away from the CMO and to the ceiling. You’ll never admit it, but his concern and the lack of the toldja-so attitude he always gets whenever you’ve neglected your health are worrying you. You haven’t given his observational skills enough credit, though, you realize a moment later as his hand lands on your shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. “I’ll get you sorted out, kid,” he promises. “We’ve slept together and you’re still calling me kid?” You huff. “Gee, thanks, doc.” Leonard chuckles softly and brushes a stray strand of hair back behind your ear. “Sick to death and you’ve still got an attitude,” the doctor ribs good-naturedly. “Yeah, you’re going to be just fine.” He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before taking his leave. It doesn’t take you long to drift off to sleep and aside from Christine coming in to check on you and get the samples Leonard had mentioned, the next few hours pass uneventfully. You doze off and on in between bouts of coughing, and you finally rouse to the sounds of frantic orders being exchanged elsewhere in the med bay – the product of an accident down in engineering. Shifting around, you slowly sit up, shivering as a cold draft licks at your back where your gown has parted a bit. The shiver leads to a paroxysm of coughs, and suddenly hurried footsteps are approaching your bedside as the monitors begin to sound an alarm. A warm hand lands on your back and you’re sure it’s Leonard’s, even though you’re coughing so hard your eyes are screwed tightly shut. The hand rubs gentle circles into your skin, warming it where the draft had left a chill, and he murmurs reassurances as the hacking passes. “Take deep breaths in through your nose for me, sugar,” Leonard instructs you. “We need to get your oxygen levels up.” It’s a struggle at first as every inhalation tickles at your throat and makes you want to cough again, but eventually your breathing grows easier and the monitors quiet down, signalling your stabilization. You glance up at Leonard wearily as you collapse back against the raised head of your bed and you’re grateful when he reaches for a cloth and begins to gently sponge at your feverish forehead. “Do you know what’s wrong with me yet?” You ask. Leonard shakes his head. “You’ve only been out a couple of hours,” he replies. “It’ll take a little longer than that to get a comprehensive analysis back. I just need you to sit tight and let us take care of you in the meantime.” You nod, resigned to your fate, and shut your eyes. Your lips quirk up in a small smile as you recall your last away mission two weeks ago. For once things had gone smoothly, and you’d had plenty of time to visit a number of Hanon IV’s protected wildlife refuges to observe the xenofauna there. Many of them had been remarkably unique, but many more still were very similar to Terran animals, and you feel at home as you picture a flock of starlings dancing around, a murmuration passing overhead as you’d collected some samples for analysis. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” He asks, having caught sight of your expression. “Birds,” you reply softly. “Birds?” He queries further. “Back on Hanon IV,” you explain, licking your dry, cracked lips, sipping gratefully from a cup of ice water Leonard offers you when he sees how parched you are. “There were birds everywhere. It reminded me of Earth, of home. Their evolutionary history and adaptations were remarkably similar to those of Terran birds, and I can’t wait to get back to my lab to keep working on my samples.” “Have you found anything interesting so far?” Leonard asks, attentive though his eyes are taking in the numbers on the bio bed again, ensuring your condition is stable. “Nothing earth shattering,” you reply, taking in a slow, deep, shaky breath, rejoicing when it doesn’t lead to more coughing. “Some of the feathers we collected show signs of poor health in certain individuals, which could indicate parasitism or infection, but nothing you wouldn’t expect with a large population of birds.” You close you eyes as Leonard reaches up and gently strokes your hair, his touch soothing you. You think back on those samples you’ve just mentioned and you suck in a breath as something dawns on you, this time eliciting a paroxysm of coughs. Leonard soothes you through them, and once you’ve caught your breath, you look up at him, having had an epiphany. “I need to contact the ornithology lab on Hanon IV,” you say. “I have an idea. It’s crazy, maybe, but worth a shot.” Leonard stares you down with a trademark quirk of his eyebrow. “There are some diseases that can be transmitted between humans and animals, right?” You ask. Leonard nods. “Sure,” he replies. “Zoonotic illnesses – lyme disease, tularemia, you name it. Why? What are you thinking?” “Psittacosis,” you offer. “It can be passed between humans and animals, it would explain some of the signs of illness I’ve found in my samples, and it shows up as pneumonia in people, doesn’t it?” Leonard’s eyebrows furrow in contemplation for a few moments and you can practically hear the gears turning as he takes your symptoms and history of exposure into consideration. “It does,’ he replies eventually. “And while I can’t pretend to be an expert on it, I think it might explain some of my other findings, too.” His hand leaves your hair where it’s been stroking the stands for the last several minutes as he straightens up and you follow him with your gaze; you’re not getting up any time soon. “There’s no need for you to go to the trouble of contacting the lab; I’m going to have the lab here test for the Chlamydophila psittaci antigen in your samples,” Leonard explains. “I’ll be back the moment I know anything. If you’re right, which I’m reasonably sure you are, the antibiotic we’ve switched you to should do the trick.” You nod in understanding as he speaks and return the smile he shoots you before turning to leave you once again. With him gone, you let your eyes drift closed and you listen to the steady beep of the overhead monitor, one for every one of your heartbeats. It’s a rhythmic, hypnotic sort of metronome and it quickly lulls you off to sleep. This time, you don’t even twitch when Christine comes in to give you another round of medication, nor do you hear Leonard’s footsteps return to your bedside. Your awakening this time is much more gentle, though you’re confused for a moment at the feeling of a warm weight on your shoulder. Blinking through the waking fog of a fading dream, you focus on the form at your bedside and allow yourself to feel reassured by his touch even before you realize it’s Leonard. “Hey there, sleepyhead,” he says softly, squeezing your shoulder gently. “How’s my little genius feeling?” “Your little genius?” You croak, your voice still thick with sleep and strained from all the coughing. “Your diagnosis was right on the money, sugar,” Leonard explains. “And the good news is that psittacosis isn’t very contagious, so once we’ve got you stabilized a little better and your fever’s broken, you can spend the rest of your recovery in your quarters.” You’re elated to hear it, but something about his words catches your attention. “If it’s not very contagious, how did I get it?” You ask. Leonard laughs softly. “Not very doesn’t mean not at all,” he reasons. “And it’s easier to catch from wildlife than it is to catch from another person. You probably inhaled some aerosolized droppings that contained the bacteria at the sanctuary.” You wrinkle your nose in disgust at the thought, earning yourself another good-natured chuckle from the doctor. “However it happened, it doesn’t matter now,” Leonard assures you. “All you need to worry about now is resting, breathing, and getting better.” You smile tiredly and nod, patting the bed beside you. “With the Federation’s best doctor here to take care of me, I know I’ll make a full recovery,” you say confidently. You shift over as he moves to join you on the bed and snuggle into his chest as he lays down at your side. The metronomic beeping of your heart monitor is quickly replaced in your ear by the sound of Leonard’s heartbeat at your cheek and you sigh in contentment as you almost immediately find yourself being pulled back into the slumber you’d been awakened from a short while before.

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