#anyway: nothing will EVER be more stressful than the 'run away from your possessed friend knocking all the paintings down' segment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pingutats · 3 years

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be this close, forever and ever

you and harry have been together for a while. your nights at home are quiet and comfortable, and, well, you’re both just so in love.

warnings: sexual content (soft giggly sex), mostly fluff

word count: 2.5k

. . . . .

Living with Harry, the two of you start to fall into the same rhythm. It’s not easy with his schedule as chaotic as it often is and your lives so profoundly different, but the nights when he’s home are the quiet sanctuary you need from all of those stresses. His little rituals seep into your own. The evenings are for being together, enjoying each other’s company without distraction or pressure. It’s just you and him, and the routine you’ve constructed so delicately together.

It starts with a face mask. Just because he’s so famous, he receives packages from different companies hoping for endorsements. He doesn’t really do those but he keeps the boxes anyway and most nights the two of you pick out one to try. He reads through the ingredients while you wait for the prescribed fifteen minutes to pass: pumpkin extract, baobab oil, a white flower extract.

“Which white flower?” Harry asks, looking up at you.

His mask is wrinkled between his brows where he’s frowning and you reach up to smooth it out again, your hands coming away sticky. You wipe them on his sweatpants, which just makes him frown again. “Dunno,” you say, “but it must be a pretty powerful flower if it—” you snatch the packet out of his hand “—de-puffs, hydrates, and brightens our skin.” You scan the printed text for a moment. “I think this one’s supposed to be used in the morning.”

“Oh, fuck. The moon’s out. Was this all for nothing?”

After peeling off the masks carefully in the bathroom, you coo over each other’s soft skin ridiculously and move back into the living room for the next unspoken event of your night. Harry is borderline religious about meditating, somehow possessing the discipline to do it for twenty minutes day and night. You aren’t like him, but sometimes you join in. It is good for you, after all.

The two of you sit on the carpet, legs crossed and backs straight, side by side and within arms reach. The itch to reach out and touch him or lean over to put your head on his shoulder is strong, but you know it annoys him when you do that. He is so serious about it — “It doesn’t work if you keep poking me, the point is to be completely focused” — and even if you’ve never reached his fanaticism about the practise, you respect it so you keep your distance. Two minutes in, though, you’re starting to get bored. He can meditate for ages: twenty minutes is his standard, and you simply don’t have it in you to sit still for that long. Quietly, so as not to disturb him, you uncross your legs and stand up, padding across the soft carpet into the kitchen to turn on the kettle.

When the soft alarm he’s set on his phone rings and brings him back to reality, he blinks open his eyes to see you in front of him, holding two steaming mugs. It’s the tea he buys especially to have before bed, something a friend recommended to relax him. You aren’t sure if it really does anything, but it tastes good so you always have a cup too. When you think about it, you do almost always have a good sleep the nights that you drink it. Those nights are the ones you’re sleeping with Harry, though, so maybe it isn’t the tea. You set the mugs on the table nearby.

“Thank you, love,” he says softly. He reaches to take hold of your hand and then suddenly drags you down to the floor, a tangle of limbs as you collapse on top of him.

You giggle and then shriek as his fingers find the ticklish spot along your ribs. “Harry! Get off!”

His attack ceases very quickly when you accidentally elbow him in the stomach in your attempts to escape.

“Sorry, H.”

“’S alright. Probably deserved it.”

“You did.”

But he’s mostly quiet in the evenings — doesn’t like to talk too much as he decompresses from the busy-ness of his days, so he shows his affection more through his actions. As the two of you sip your tea (still on the floor, because with the plushy carpet he has it’s just as comfortable down here as on the couch) he reaches out to drum his fingers over your knee while he tries to remember all the things he needs to do tomorrow. He’s always written himself to-do lists and he got you hooked on them too. You were sceptical at first, but they do make life easier. The little thrill of ticking off boxes in your black notebook with your initials monogrammed on the bottom right corner (Harry’s gift) is a bonus. He’s less driven by those superficial rewards, so he chooses to keep his on his laptop, which is rose gold. His hand leaves you only to type the next line of his to-do list, then he’s back to tracing patterns over the fabric of your borrowed sweatpants. He emails the list to himself when he’s finished. You’ve always found that funny, and you tease him for being grandpa-ish, but it’s just another one of his eccentricities that makes him more endearing.

You probably wear his clothes just as much as you wear your own. He loves seeing you in his stuff. He’s practically throwing t-shirts at you as soon as you walk into the house. He’ll take your stuff, too, sometimes. Dating Harry comes with an unspoken agreement to merge your wardrobes. There are a couple of pieces — a hoodie or two, sweatpants that are too big for either of you, a pair of extremely fluffy socks — that have been passed between you for so long that you can barely remember who owned them first. The sweatpants you’re wearing right now (paired with just a sports bra) are his. The old band tee he has on is yours.

He carries the empty mugs back to the kitchen and loads them into the dishwasher while you finish the last of your planning. There’s no discussion around it, just like no one asked you to make the tea in the first place. The two of you just now how to work together now, with all the times you’ve practised this routine. Sometimes it’s him who makes the tea, sometimes you finish your list first, but you never really have to talk. Harry usually picks out an album to play in the background over these moments, and that’s the only thing you need to listen to. It’s good. It makes you feel more connected to him, like you understand each other on a deeper level than just being able to talk. You know Harry like the back of your hand. He knows you almost as well as you know yourself. It’s a quiet kind of euphoria, to love and be loved back. You don’t need the fanfares and the grandiose displays. You just need each other.

Later, you pull faces at each other in the mirror while you brush your teeth, bumping hips as you giggle around your toothbrushes. He’s finished in the bathroom before you are, so he lies in bed in just his boxers and watches you through the open doorway while you do your last couple of skincare and hair rituals. Satisfied, you switch the bathroom light off and enter the bedroom that you share, decorated with framed artworks you both chose, a bedspread that you picked out together. You quickly change into just a long loose shirt, then collapse into bed with him and crawl under the covers, his greedy arms pulling you to nestle into his side while he presses a kiss to your forehead. He likes to read before he sleeps, but you aren’t in the mood for that. You shuffle down until your head is at his chest and you throw your arm and leg over him, letting him rest his paperback against your bare thigh while he reads with you wrapped around him.

After a couple of minutes of just the sound of pages turning and your soft breaths, you start to sponge kisses over his bare chest. He ignores you at first, but you hear his breathing stutter as you move up to his collarbone.

“Let me just finish this chapter,” he murmurs. “Just a couple pages left.” His eyes don’t leave the page, but he gropes around until he finds your hand and brings your fingers to his mouth, kissing them before he lets your intertwined hands drop.

You don’t reply. You pull your hand out of his loose grasp and run your fingertips up the subtly defined lines of his abs, softened by the way he’s sitting. You trace the wings of the butterfly tattooed over his stomach, then draw a constellation between his four nipples — he chuckles and pulls your hand away, holding it tighter this time.

“Baby,” he says, a little firmer this time.

You kiss his shoulder again.

He sighs, closing the book (he doesn’t tear his eyes away from the page until it’s fully closed and you almost feel bad for distracting him until —

He throws the book on the nightstand and reaches over your body to plant his hand on the mattress, pushing himself up so he’s hovering above you. “You’re a pest,” he says, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours.

You giggle and bite your lip, wrapping one leg around his hip and pulling him closer to you. “Kiss me?”

He obliges, pressing his lips against yours. “That all you wanted?” His tone is slightly teasing. He’s always liked to see you squirm.

You shake your head, wrapping your other leg around him. You can feel the bulge underneath his boxers against your crotch and it sets a fire in your core. You thread a hand into his hair and pull him down to kiss him again, less chastely this time. You roll your hips against him, just slightly, and smile against his kiss when you feel him twitch.

He breaks away from the kiss and smears his lips over your cheekbone to your ear. “Tell me, angel, tell me what you want you want and I’ll give it to you,” he whispers.

You barely contain a whimper at how deep his voice has gotten. “Fuck me,” you say, gasping as he starts to place hot openmouthed kisses down your neck. When you first slept together, you were too embarrassed to ask him so openly. You don’t get embarrassed around him anymore. “Harry, please fuck me.”

He pulls back suddenly, smiling down at you. “See? All you had to do was ask nicely.”

“Harry!”

He’s laughing as he pulls his boxers down to free his cock, but his giggles fade into a low moan as he takes hold of himself and strokes a couple times. “Ready for me, baby?”

“Yeah.”

He pushes into you with one fluid motion, making your eyes roll back. He fills you so perfectly. Every single time he’s in you is better than the last, it never gets old — there’s no feeling that’s as good as how he feels. Sometimes it’s explosive, sometimes he’s brutal in how he fucks you, or passionate and needy, or the both of you get caught up in the roles you make up to play, but you treasure the times like this. The times where he’s on top of you, face-to-face, alternating between kisses and whispers and little giggles — this is where you feel the most love for Harry.

He takes his time, in no hurry to end this moment. The pace he sets is slow but he reaches deep into you on each thrust, his breath coming out increasingly ragged every time he buries himself to the hilt. You have your hands in his hair and splayed across his back — he has one clutching the pillow beside your head to hold himself up, the other roaming over your chest. It’s like he can’t decide what he wants to do with his mouth: he’ll kiss your lips, then along your jaw, down your neck, then back up to your ear where he whispers all the sweet little nothings he can think of.

“So pretty, baby, love you so much, taking me so well, always my good girl, my best girl, my girl, always feel so good…” He chants it like a prayer, his words taking on a firmer tone each time he thrusts in, starting to pick up the pace a bit. “Touch yourself for me, darling, want to see you cum underneath me.”

You moan and reach down between your legs, rubbing little circles around your clit while he starts to fuck you at a faster pace. “Feels so good, Harry,” you say, your words choked slightly by the intensity of what you’re feeling right now.

“I know it does,” he replies, kissing you again, swallowing your moans. That edge of cockiness, the way he knows how to take care of you, when you just need his mouth on you and he can’t keep off you — you love all these little traits. You love him. And he loves you. That’s maybe the feeling to triumph over all the others.

“I’m close, I’m close,” you chant, the hand on his back digging fingernail marks into his skin as the warm feeling in your core rises, threatening to explode.

He thrusts into you faster, his rhythm growing slightly sloppy. “Yeah? Let go for me, baby, let go, I’m right behind you.”

You cum, legs shaking around him and brows pinched as you stare up at him, while he watches you cum undone with an intensity behind his gaze that wasn’t there before. You say his name, over and over, trying to put all you want to say into just that one word. You hope it’s enough. You think it is. He gets you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he says, words cut off by a pant, as you feel the aftershocks of your own orgasm and the growing over-sensitivity. “You feel so good, baby, gonna cum so hard…”

You feel him spill into you as he cries out, his body collapsing over yours so his entire body is pressed against yours. You thread your fingers through his hair until he starts to come down from his high and rolls off you, his cock slipping out and you hiss at the slight friction.

“God…” he murmurs into the air. “That was so good.”

You giggle, twisting around and propping your head up with your hand so you can look down at him. “You say that every time.”

“It’s good every fucking time,” he says, a smile spreading across his face.

You poke his dimple and he tries to catch your finger with his mouth, biting the air playfully, but you pull it away. “You’re such a weirdo.”

He pouts for a second, but then his features soften. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You drop your head back down to the pillow, watching him stretch his arm out to turn off his bedside lamp. After a couple of swats at the switch, he finally manages it, and brings the same arm back over to drape over your body. It’s totally dark now. “Love you so much,” he tells you, kisses your forehead.

“Love you more. Goodnight, H. Sweet dreams.”

“Night, angel. Sleep well.”

. . . . .

hope you enjoyed -- let me know if u did, i like reading ur replies/tags !! i rlly loved writing this fic, it’s just so domestic and sweet and happy. the meditating and the to-do list (including the emailing !! ) is from the real harry.

btw !! my ask box is open for requests & general chatter, so come say hi :D

#harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #fic

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orange-plum · 3 years

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So I was commissioned by @andrastesassets to write about the scene in “Satan and Me” where Satan gives his wings away for Natalie, but from his POV. This was kinda a big turning point as a wake-up call in the series for him, as you’re probably aware if you’ve read past that point and seen him be more open with his feelings and such. Anyway, it was a fun little thing to explore (yes, this is canon thoughts of his). I never expected to be commissioned to explore deeper into a canon of my stories that hasn’t been put into words before with the images alone of the updates, but I’m def open to that in the future!

Without further ado, here you go.

The looming presence behind him paled in comparison to the disorienting lurch his stomach gave as he kneeled on the unwelcoming cement floor. Keeping his gaze down, concentrating on the little tremors of his arms holding him upright, Satan struggled to properly see through the fog of stress clouding his mind. Clouding his judgement.

Fuck, this wasn’t the right thing to do, was it? Was he being too hasty? Should he spring up and sprint out the door before he followed through with something he couldn’t come back from? This was definitely one of his more impulsive and reckless decisions he’d ever committed to. Nothing could truly be worth this kind of –

Satan’s hand twitched, starting to rise as nerves got the best of him, when a blur of orange and maroon hovered on the edge of his peripheral. For a brief moment, he found himself vaguely wondering what the smudge of color was in the expanse of drab brown walls and muted trim.

Reality came crashing against him like an unforgiving tide for what seemed like the tenth time this morning. Sweat gathered at the base of his neck and he swallowed.

Satan returned his palm flat against the cement, locking his joints and muscles into place so that he would not stand up. His stomach did another discombobulated lurch.

Right. This was for Natalie. Natalie, who had no right looking so gray, Father, she was like a corpse.

She is a corpse! His mind howled the confirmation at him, leaving his breaths shallow in his welling panic.

Yes, that was true. It had been true for hours now, yet, somehow, the complete depth of what that really entailed eluded him in his denial. How could she be dead when she had talked to him only moments ago? Human’s lives had always felt fleeting, but had any ever felt quite this temporary before?

Less than a year they had been together . . . How had she burrowed this deeply under his skin? When? Satan tried to conjure a memory to pinpoint the exact moment Natalie had become a constant in his life as he bore his back to Death and Pestilence. In the end, it was fruitless. Between his ears remained endless static.

The tension in the air was suffocating. His arms trembled, but he kept his jaw clenched.

He would give them no further satisfaction when taking the last bit of value he still possessed of his former self. They would not see him fall apart at their feet. That could come later, when left in the privacy of this cold, dreary room, where he could lick his wounds and recover in peace.

He was still Lucifer, the Morning Star and omen of destruction to all who opposed him, wings or not.

But, fuck . . . Father, he would prefer to keep his wings.

Somehow, boneless and lightheaded from the trauma of the morning, Satan noticed, with a small sense of intrigue, that his back actually felt heavier now that it was empty. How was that possible?

The long gashes where the trunks had been swiftly carved open spewed boiling trails of lava down his skin, soaking into the hem of his robe and pooling Great Lakes onto the floor. Energy had left in his limbs the moment the numbing kiss of Death’s blade breached his muscles.

On wobbling legs, Satan rose in his shock and joined Natalie at her side. He carefully reached toward her, gliding the tips of his fingers against her ashen cheek, almost afraid to touch, because she looked exactly the same. What the hell? She looked no different than when she had been splayed out like a weathered ragdoll amongst her bedsheets at sunrise, goddamnit.

Before he could garner enough strength to turn on his company and spew venom and vitriol from his lips, Satan froze. Warmth wafted over his fingers under her nose as he lowered his hand. Closer inspection revealed the gentle rise and fall of her chest. The nauseating cramping in his stomach abated so suddenly, he almost keeled over right then and there.

“Give it a few minutes,” Death commented over his shoulder, as if reading his mind. There was no longer a smile in his voice, his face a neutral mask as Satan glanced at him with gritted teeth, the sight of his former pride being folded up and collected like loose laundry too much to bear. “It takes a little while for a soul to acclimate into their body after death. I assure you, her color and liveliness will rekindle when she wakes up.”

Through the haze, Satan vaguely realized he must’ve been making some type of suspicious face when Death suddenly snorted and shook his head, his eyes gleaming. “For all we’ve been acquainted, Lucifer, you should know I’m not one to break my word. Give my regards to little Natalie when she rejoins the land of the living, won’t you. As always, it’s been a pleasure. I look forward to seeing you and your brother again when the time comes for your big day.”

With the room empty, peppered only with the soft sounds of Natalie’s breaths and the distant echoes of Death’s laughter down the desolate hallway, the elephant in the room was no longer avoidable. Satan slumped against a wall, transfixed by the rise and fall of the chest beside him. Even more so as the rosiness began to fill Natalie’s cheeks the longer she breathed life into her form.

His previous adrenaline had left him a hollow puppet, now that there was no longer the turbulent cocktail of anxiety and doubt weighing on his shoulders. Satan allowed himself to drift to the floor, lying beside the only person he had ever met who had compelled him to do something so utterly foolish. Jesus, her daredevil stunts to ground him at his lowest points seemed to have rubbed off on him, and likely not for the better.

Satan’s wounds throbbed at the edges, a constant reminder of the magnitude of what he had just done.

Don’t think about it, his mind lethargically reminded. What’s done is done, so don’t start regretting it now.

“Prophecy child, huh . . . ” Satan muttered, his arm leveraged under his head like a makeshift pillow. The light cascading through the windows almost seemed to light up Natalie’s hair in its luminescence. Amongst the carnage splattered around them from his sacrifice, she was ethereal and without blemish.

He had found out about the Child of Prophecy by chance, becoming enraged at the notion of being kept in the dark so late in the game. Natalie’s existence had changed from an everyday annoyance to one of unbearable burden.

She had the power to sway him? To sway his empire and everything he worked for? A being like that, who would steal his autonomy or cast him spellbound, was too dangerous to fraternize with. There was just too much on the line to risk throwing away for some goofy, loud-mouthed human without an ounce of self-preservation.

And so Satan had done the only logical thing he could think of at the time: He ran away, leaving her with that pitiful, crumpled face as he rejected her in that inconsequential Oregon town. The less time he spent with her, the better off he’d be.

Only . . . That had not played out as he’d hoped. Watching Natalie disappear over the side of a bridge had been like a bolt of electricity coursing through his body. That she would see him as the monster that he was, a grotesque monstrosity that even Michael had recoiled from, and attempt to help him, regardless? Well . . . Perhaps there was more to Natalie McAllister than he had originally considered. He’d cradled her close and winced while he repaid her kindness by accidentally boiling her alive.

Oregon was a wake-up call.

Natalie had piqued his curiosity, her smiling reassurance that she didn’t befriend monsters jumpstarting the heart in his chest that he had presumed stopped functioning centuries ago. Not only that, but he had no way of knowing he would soon find out that running toward the very man attacking her and her cowardly little friend, despite the blatant terror in her eyes, was only the tip of the iceberg.

“Oh,” Satan muttered, something foreign flooding into his chest, emotion catching in his throat as he stared at Natalie’s slumbering form.

Silencing Hell for him at the cost of her soul . . .

Calling him her guardian angel. Crying, not for fear of Hell, but for fear of being separated from his company . . .

As much as he wanted to deny it, the fondness in Natalie’s eyes as she smiled at him was undoubtedly genuine. She really did seem to look at him like he hung the stars above her head.

“I love you, Lucifer. I’m glad I got to meet someone like you.”

Satan trembled, unable to properly sort through the sensations overflowing from his chest as Natalie’s eyelashes began to flutter. Champagne bubbles tickled his stomach, and though not required to breathe to live, he felt so remarkably breathless at once.

So that’s what this is, Satan distantly thought, watching pale eyelashes finally parting to reveal a cognizant gaze, blinking against the trickle of sunlight warming her cheeks. When meeting Natalie’s eyes, he couldn’t keep the smile of relief from his face.

Satan understood that he had never experienced this before, but he somehow knew what to latch onto in his jumbled mind with unquestionable conviction.

I love her.

#satan and me #writing #its not technically but im going to tag it #fanfiction #writing commission #commission #andrastesassets

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

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Ashes Chapter 1: Night

Liu Kang x Reader

This story contains spoilers from the Mortal Kombat 2021 movie so description and story will be beneath the cut. It's an angsty good time. Thanks @justariellove for workshopping titles with me!! Edit:: Changing the title. Beauty Through Ash will be the name of the series that this will be a part of.

Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

You are a warrior with the dragon marking and ink arcana. You had visions as a child. Complicated sexual history with Liu Kang and a romantic relationship with Kung Lao that lasted a few years after that had ended. Story takes place post-movie! It will be angsty. There will be yelling. There will be tension and smut (eventually, that's just me). It will be ridiculous. But fun.

This is a 'I have zero self control post' Enjoy!

A soft ringing rattled through your head and you hated every second of it. It was a tinkling sound, like metal brushing softly against metal.

A wind chime.

The most annoying wind chime that you had ever heard in your life. Your stomach was sour, like you’d eaten something funny the night before and as you turned in search of the cold side of the pillow, your stomach rejected being awake. The world spun even with your eyes closed.

What had you done to deserve this?

You tried to recall what had brought you to this point of misery. You remembered going downstairs in search of a stiff drink after you’d packed for your trip the next day but after that, things had gotten blurry. It was easy to get lost in liquor these days. You remembered some of the other monks coming to join you but after that, there was nothing. That was why your stomach was sick. Too much liquor. Not an entirely unfamiliar feeling the past few weeks. You’d often needed its help to fall asleep.

You leaned up on your elbow and felt something soft slip over your bare skin. Puzzling. No usual nightshirt, but something else draped over you instead. Oh, no.

Oh no.

You were naked.

You were very, very naked. Crap. You grasped the soft cloth and held it over you to keep decent. Shit. You were sore too. So much for wishful thinking that you hadn’t done something incredibly stupid.

You bit the bullet and opened your eyes but silently panicked at the shirt that was just barely draped over you and knew whose it was before you saw the body of the man lying next to you. A soot-stained shirt. Biting your lip, you prayed that you would turn your head and find an insane explanation for your clothing being gone besides the obvious.

Instead, you found the truth that you had already damn well known the moment you’d moved. Liu Kang laid passed out on the bed next to you, face turned away and completely naked. He had scratch marks down his back, and you followed them down to his perfect little butt and then covered your face and mentally cursed yourself.

Fuck.

Don’t panic. Deep breaths.

It was still dark out. You had time to find your clothes and get out of there before he woke, with any luck. His room was dark and you were dizzy so the odds weren’t in your favor. Head in your hands, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and felt the cold stone beneath your feet. God, you were so sore. What stupid things had you done? At least you were familiar with his room and the way back from it. Not your first walk of shame out of there, you reflected in disgust with yourself. Not that Liu Kang wasn’t attractive or fun as hell, it was just terrible timing.

You rested his shirt on the bed next to you and searched the floor blindly for your clothing. His room hadn’t changed much over the years. It had been that long since you’d found yourself drunk and naked in his bed.

You had been drunk. Maybe he wouldn’t remember.

You had clawed the shit out of his back though, he’d probably remember something about that.

You had to get up and go about your day and forget all about it.

Seeing as you didn’t remember most of it, it would probably be fine. You were leaving that morning anyway to go and locate a man in America with the dragon mark. You’d be gone soon and able to delay the inevitable fallout that would come with sleeping with Liu Kang for the first time in years. You found your clothes strewn about the room, slipped them back on as quietly as your hungover self would allow and then snuck out of his room. You thought about covering him up but that risked waking him.

Once in the hall and a few doors away, you leaned against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief.

Okay.

You’d made it out of there. Now to make it look less like you’d done exactly what you’d done. Your mouth tasted foul and your head split with every step. This was a complete disaster. You hadn’t been careful. You hadn’t been thinking. You’d just passed out. You stopped to get cleaned up and grab a cup of tea to try and kill the headache. Then you returned to your room to finish packing your morning things and find a change of clothing. The monotony of the task made your brain buzz with guilt and unpleasant thoughts and then flashes of Liu Kang in the heat of the moment. You smacked the side of your head to try and shake it out of there.

On your desk there was the last and most important thing that you had to bring with you. An ornamental jade circlet. Kung Lao’s jade circlet. You sat at the desk and brushed your fingers over the beautiful thing. It had become one of your most precious possessions. As it often did, the thought of Kung Lao shifted your mood. Then again, it was rare when you weren’t thinking about him. Lifting the circlet, you placed it to your lips and gave it a soft kiss. “I’m sorry, Lao.”

It had been two months since he died.

You hadn’t been there in his last moments. Instead, you’d been halfway around the world running an errand for Raiden and had come back to find him gone. There had been no goodbyes. No last ‘I love you’. Your last conversation hadn’t even been a good one. Then, while drinking away the pain of his memory and guilt of his death, you’d slept with his best friend and brother.

Liu Kang.

You had never felt more guilty in all your life.

There had always been fire between you, but it had long since been put aside when you’d started dating Kung Lao. You’d stomped it out. Now Kung Lao was gone, and you were broken.

If anyone had suffered more than you after Kung Lao’s death it had been Liu Kang. You hadn’t talked about his death other than vague niceties. He had avoided you and you had avoided him. When you’d been together, you’d snapped at each other. The grieving process had been difficult for you both. It had been like he’d taken on some of Kung Lao’s most frustrating traits to deal with the loss of him.

There was no time to dwell on what wasn’t. You had things to do.

You looped the circlet into the straps of your bag and then took it with you. It was what it was. You couldn’t change the past and that was something you were struggling to come to terms with. This was one more thing to add to the pile of stress on your back.

You were off to South Dakota in the United States, a relatively boring place from what you’d heard. You were to search for a man with the dragon marking known as Nightwolf, a legendary warrior of the Makota people. Lord Raiden had asked you to prepare for a journey and you were grateful to have something to do other than stew in the room you’d shared with Kung Lao before his death. There was no peace for you there, but you weren’t sure there was peace for you anywhere right now.

Peace would come with time, you were told again and again. You were tired of hearing it. The comfort of time in conversation was mostly just to shut down the fixation on grief in the company of others. You shook it off.

After you’d found Nightwolf you would be off to meet up with Sonya, Jax, and Cole in Hollywood to try and convince an arrogant movie star, Johnny Cage, to come to Raiden’s Temple to train. No one knew what Outworld would do after having lost the tournament and you had to be prepared. Besides that, you thought Raiden sending you on a mission was his way of trying to help you grieve. He was fatherly at times.

You threw the bag on your back and then walked through the temple to meet Raiden. Your conversation was minimal and you were grateful for that. Your head was still killing you, stomach beyond sick. You stepped through the lightning and arrived outside of a forest, near a reservation where some of the Makota people still lived. You had been told to check there to see if you could find information about the man with the dragon mark.

There were motels nearby, so you walked there and rented a room. It was a little hole in the wall place with a broken No Vacancy sign just off the side of the highway, the kind you associated with horror movies. It had seen better days, but you weren’t picky at the moment, and you weren’t afraid either. You were a woman who was not to be trifled with. You dropped off your bag in the room and then sat on the edge of the bed with the ugly green comforter for a time. The wallpaper was faded and busy, once white ceiling yellowed with age. The most modern thing in the room was the television and even that was a decade old at least. It was fine. You only needed a place to sleep and this room served that purpose. There was a couch against one wall and a table in front of it- more than most hotels offered these days.

Your head was still splitting, but you had gotten some aspirin from the small convenience store attached to the ancient lobby where you’d checked in. Hopefully, that would help. You would take a car to the reservation and then hopefully be allowed to respectfully ask some questions. From what you’d read, very few people still lived there but it had been the only place you’d been able to locate before you’d traveled.

You were hoping that some of the people there would at least point you in the right direction. Raiden had told you that the title of Nightwolf was given to a great warrior who could commune with the Gods. In this case, it was also a man who bore the dragon marking. You called a car from the phone in your room and waited outside for it to meet you. When it did, you opened the door and climbed in the back and made casual conversation with the driver.

You pulled the door closed, but then someone smacked on the door and opened it again. In crawled Liu Kang and any recovery your head and stomach had made were set so far back that you could have vomited your insides onto your boots. “What are you doing here?” That sounded far more accusatory than you had meant it too.

“Raiden sent me to accompany you.” He avoided eye contact and turned his attention to the driver. He looked just as tired as you felt and addressed the driver. “Sorry about that. Is the fare still the same for us both?”

“You going to the same place?”

“Yes, just together.”

“Then same fare, buddy.” The driver put the car in gear and pulled onto the road. You couldn’t have felt worse. Thanks Raiden. Your distraction was officially over. Maybe he hadn’t sent you to find comfort. Maybe he’d sent you to test your spirit. Great.

Next Chapter >>

#liu kang x reader #self insert #reader insert #liu kang #mk liu kang #mortal kombat movie #mortal kombat 2021 #ludi lin #liu kang/reader #liu kang x you #liu kang/you #fanfic #angst #romance #death #tension #beauty through ash

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stevetonyweekly · 3 years

Text

SteveTony Weekly - May 2

I know I say every week that I read a lot this week but I have been indulging in my favorite coping technique and so this list is ridiculously long. Twitter encouraged me. Blame them.

**Indicates my recent favs

~*~

On the inherent homoeroticism of cake decoration by welcoming_disaster (616/8K)

“She’s matchmaking, Barton,” Carol sighed.

“We,” Thor corrected, thumping himself hard in the chest, “art matchmaking.”

“Who, Cap n’ Tony?” Clint asked, his mouth full.

“Cap and Tony,” Janet confirmed, cutting herself a thin slice of egg and gently depositing it on her whole grain avocado toast, “it’s getting ridiculous.”

“Wait, I thought they were—“ Clint frowned, glancing around the room as though to confirm. Nothing but confused faces met his questioning gaze. “Huh. I really thought they were fucking.”

“And there is the crux of the issue,” Jess licked a bit of spaghetti sauce off her lip.

“Aye,” agreed Thor, “there’s rub.”

-----------

The team tries to set up Steve and Tony. Things don't go as planned.

Baby lovers like you and me (never say die) by FestiveFerret (Old Guard AU/7.5K)

The Avengers. They'd found him frozen in the ice, told him he was immortal, of all things. And with the way he'd lived through seventy years deep in the Atlantic, he found himself inclined to believe them. They'd also been very… convincing.

Without question, they integrated him into their unit - The Avengers, a secret team of unkillables seeking wrongs around the world and making them right, supported and housed by an enigmatic billionaire named Tony Stark. Their immortality, it seemed, was a secret to everyone but him.

Ready, set, bake by ChocolateCapCookie (Great British Bake Off/11k)

The Avengers are on a nationally televised baking competition, but nobody seems to have warned the producers that the Avengers, while they save the world everyday and put their loves at risk doing so, are a) insanely competitive, and b) absolutely terrible bakers. Steve Rogers, especially, has a competitive streak a mile wide, and he's determined to win this competition, but it's not easy when his only real opponent is also the man he's been in love with for years.

***To make flowers grow (in this barren heart) by SoldiersShield, KakushiMiko (Hanahaki AU/16K)

“You hide yourself away in your technology, but you are just as human as the rest of them. Your heart betrays your desire to possess.” Her gaze falls to the arc reactor, and Tony's blood runs cold in his veins.

“The Earth will reclaim what we have lost,” she says, dragging a hand over the chestplate of the armor. “It is you, and your kind-- your greed that pulls life from the soil as if it were nothing. You will reap what you have sown, Stark. The avarice in your heart will strangle the very life out of you.” Arna meets his eyes once more, a serene smile on her face as she leans forward.

“I hope he is worth dying for,” she murmurs, before digging her hand into his ribcage.

(Tony Stark falls in love with Steve Rogers. A rogue enchantress ensures he pays for it.)

Shelter from the storm by silkspectred (KidFic/5k)

Tony adopts a baby. Guess who's Majorly Fucked Up™ about it.

Keep on beating by itsallAvengers (Domestic Fluff/6K)

There were an awful lot of things Steve loved about Tony. But one thing in particular Steve could never get enough of was his heartbeat.

The good or bad thing by petreparkour (Multiverse/10k)

“It’s the metal suit,” Thor informed Steve, his normally-booming voice tinny over the SHIELD comms. “What did Stark call it—Iron Man?”

“But he’s down here,” Steve protested as the Hulk roared in Stark’s face, startling him into waking with a shout. “How could—”

“It’s damaged,” Thor reported. “But it looks different. More advanced. And he—ah. He’s carrying you, Captain.”

“Please tell me nobody kissed me,” Stark breathed out, and then Stark’s voice suddenly came over the comms, but the man lying next to him hadn’t moved.

“Guys, come on, you’re killing me here. What is it, 2012? God, I hate time travel. First, I'm fighting Thanos. Now, I have to deal with my past self and Thor's bad haircut? Oh my God, Cap, yes I hacked their comms, they’re my comms.”

Steve nearly opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t said anything when he realized that this replica of Tony Stark wasn’t speaking to him.

***The tipping point by nightwalker (Domestic Fluff/7K)

Tony has a few quirks. Steve's still trying to figure them all out.

We two, how long we were fool’d by glassessay (Soulmate AU/9K)

Steve Rogers comes into the world as unblemished as his mother. When Anthony Stark is born, his soulmark is an obvious pattern of ink across his tiny chest.

It only takes a century, two names, and a shared love of Walt Whitman for them to find each other.

The tape in the cave by betheflame (Canon Divergent/5K)

Steve had no idea what was happening.

“You think I didn’t know that?”

Tony was staring Zemo down as though the Sokovian was actual vermin - which, Steve reflected, he kind of was.

“You think that I,” Tony continued, not hiding the sneer in his voice, “Anthony Stark, who has more powerful technology in my literal fingers than most nations have, that I wouldn’t know everything possible about how my parents died? That I wouldn’t know it wasn’t an accident, that your silly little HYDRA Nazi knock-off pals are the ones who murdered them? Please, you are pathetic.”

Happy ending by Robin_tCJ (No-Powers AU/28K)

Steve is a mobile massage therapist, and Tony is a stressed billionaire. What could go wrong?

With a decent happiness by torigates (Teacher AU/16K)

Tony Stark is Iron Man. Steve Rogers isn't, and never was Captain America.

Or, the one where everything is the same except Steve is a kindergarten teacher.

Nothing left but scars by SailorChibi (MCU/6.7K) - Reread

Steve wakes up to the fact that no one ever compliments or even says thank you to Tony, and that he has fallen into the same trap of painting Tony with a specific paintbrush.

This is how he showers a very confused Tony with praise to make up for it.

Our hearts should remember and follow by frostfall (MCU/5K)

Steve hums. “I didn’t know you could play. Or sing. Don’t think I’ve heard anyone mention it before.”

Tony shrugs. “It’s one of the few things, skills, I don’t flaunt. Not something people are interested in, anyway. Not gonna sway any board members by playing fucking Für Elise for them. Sides’, there’s a high chance I wouldn’t even play. Well, maybe if you get me drunk enough and near an instrument. Then, I might reconsider.”

(After a dream leaves Tony rattled, he turns to the piano as a way to distract himself.)

Finally, you and me by pensversusswords (Multiverse/10K)

Because in every layer of time, in every conceivable dimension, he was always meant to love Steve.

By some miracle, Steve was meant to love him back.

***Full disclosure not required (but appreciated) by Potrix (Identity Porn/16k)

The one where Steve knows more than he lets on, Tony knows less than he pretends, Clint has a big mouth, Bucky is a little shit, and everyone learns why keeping secrets never ends well.

Almost never, anyway.

Heartlines by nanasekei (MCU/7.9K)

“Let me,” Tony repeats. He regrets it deeply, so much, he wants to stick the words back into his mouth again, and it must show, in the way his voice wavers. He feels exposed, all of a sudden, as if he’s asking something bigger than what he can actually say. Let me touch you, let me take care of you. “Just… Let me do it.”

i found a way to let you in, but i never really had a doubt (marriage series) by quidhitch (Marriage Series/16k)

Tony Stark doesn’t believe in marriage. It’s nobody’s fault. —Well, it’s Howard's fault, probably, but Tony doesn’t like to think about that for too long, finds that it dredges up all sorts of issues he’d rather keep buried under a mountain of strategically employed sarcasm, humorous self-deprecation, and the occasionally effective substance abuse.

***Hide your love away by sineala (Soulmate/33K) - Reread

Tony has suspected for a long time that the soulmark on his chest matches Steve's -- but he's never told Steve about it. And then it's too late to tell Steve anything at all ever again. In the wake of Steve's death, the Skrull invasion, and Norman Osborn's rise to power, the identity of his soulmate is just one of the many things Tony cuts out of his memory forever.

When Tony returns to consciousness, he's forced to deal with the aftermath of a war he no longer remembers fighting, not to mention a Steve Rogers who can barely stand to be in the same room with him. Surely the last thing Tony could ever need in his life is more amnesia. But that's what he gets. And Tony's new missing memory just might be the key to finding out the truth of his soulmark... as well as his chance to make things right once and for all.

Break the chain (can’t live in circles again) by orphan_account (FWB/19K)

There had been seven amazing weeks of dating Steve Rogers before Tony realised that they weren’t dating at all. And then it was a scramble to adjust to the situation as it had always been: being Steve’s friend-with-benefits.

And if Steve seemed a little confused and bewildered by the way Tony was acting, well. Tony was probably just misreading that, too.

Five times steve and tony (tried to) bail each other out of jail by Teyke (MCU/6k)

Twice before Civil War, twice after, and once during. For very loose definitions of both 'bail' and 'jail'.

Cracked hearts under iron ribs by XtaticPearl (Established Relationship/14k)

Rhodey is away for almost six months now and comes to meet Tony after the mission. He doesn't understand the domesticity of the whole Tower and unknowingly sets off a whole truck of insecurities which make Tony crawl back into being a Stark instead of just Tony. The team is not at all happy and Rhodey joins them in trying to figure out a way to help their resident genius feel better in his skin.

The single biggest problem with communication by BlossomsintheMist (616/108K)

In the wake of Steve's return from the dead and the end of Norman Osborn's reign of terror, the superhero community is recovering--Steve has taken on a new role and Tony is trying to put his life back together. Things are still awkward between them, but they're determined to put things to rights. But when a discussion about their feelings leads to further misunderstandings, they discover that might be more difficult than either of them realized. Set in the early Heroic Age after the end of Dark Reign, this is a get-together story about crossed wires--and second chances.

What are friends for? by bobertsmallismydad (MCU /2.8K)

In which Steve is targeted by a virus. Will the Avengers be able to save him in time?

Starving by festiveferret (Vampire AU/2K)

Steve woke up starving.

***Everybody wonders (What it would be like to love you) by SoldiersShield (MCU/3K)

“...Is that what this is about?” He asks slowly. Steve blanches.

“Oh my god. It is.” Tony has no right looking as giddy as he does. “Steven Grant Rogers, are you jealous?”

Or: Steve and Tony have been dancing around each other for a while now, and Steve's rather content with it. Attending a gala together just might change that.

Re(A)d all over by brandnewfashion, MusicalLuna (Drunk Flirting/3k)

Contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark can blush.

It just takes Steve getting drunk on some magical Asgardian mead for it to finally happen.

***The Do-over Proposal by nightwalker (Established Relationship/1.2k)

Steve wants to go on a journey, Tony doesn't think it's a good time, and Bucky needs to beat some sense into both these idiots.

A Winter’s Ball by alliejowrites (Victorian AU/3.8K)

Steve moves to London in search of a patron, so that he can finally devote himself to painting. He is not expecting everything he finds upon meeting Lord Stark. A fluffy little Victorian AU. One-shot.

What’s a fanfic by starksnack (AvAc/1K)

Kamala introduces Tony and Steve to the world of fanfiction. There is a surprising amount of content about them being gay.

#stony #superhusbands #stevetony fic #stevetony weekly #stevetony #fic recs #steve rogers #tony stark #iron man #captain ameria

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theepisceswriter · 3 years

Note

hiiii friend🥺🤍🤍🤍 I love ur blog so much it was an automatic follow when i found out u were a black writer too!!! for the event can i request Toji w/ hair bands & sunglasses if that’s ok<3 have a beautiful day xoxo

STALLION’S 600 MILESTONE EVENT

♡ Hair bands: Breeding

♡ Sunglasses: Over protective/Yandere

TW: whew Toji is a trigger warning in his own, not proofread so if you see something that doesn’t make sense shhhh, Yandere themes obviously, toxic relationship themes, jealousy, breeding, manipulation kinda, MINORS DNI!

WC: 1.9k

You should have known better than to even glance in another man’s direction, let alone give him the attention and blessing of being in your presence that Toji had made clear was reserved for him and only him. That was always stressed with hisses, tugs on your arms in the opposite direction, and threats of violence coming their way whenever he felt someone was becoming too close to what was his.

His love for you was intoxicating to the point where it was a toxic bitterness with just a side of sweetness. A day never going by where you weren’t put on a pedestal and treated like a queen, him even going as far to literally kiss the floor you walked upon one day. So much love coming your way reserved exclusively for you was foreign to your body, so instead of leaving you clinged on to every overpowering gesture of affection sent your way. Ignoring the antics of your overly possessive boyfriend if it meant you would be loved a little longer.

Toji never liked that slimy blue eyed man that always came around. A sneer always on his scarred lips whenever Gojo was around. Even the overly flirtatious tone of his voice got the hittman in an uproar, ready to grab his flimsy lanky body by the neck and fling it across the room whenever he cheekily let pet names for you seep from his pathetic lips. And if it wasn’t for you stepping in to calm Toji down when he was on the brink of violence then Gojo very well could’ve been extinct from this earth already. No matter how powerful he was, Toji's want to have you to himself was stronger.

Still, their prior negative interactions with each other didn’t stop you from holding and entertaining a conversation with the white haired man when he called out to you and stopped you in your tracks of approaching the door of the apartment you shared with your beloved.

Your heart was just too pure and sweet, always faithful for your Toji in return of his undying love, that you didn’t see anything wrong with the interactions. Expecting the conversation to last no longer than 4 minutes in fear of what would happen if your lover overheard you two talking outside the door. But no matter how many times you tried to dismiss yourself Gojo was just so adamant that you listened to the extended story of his and Geto’s latest wild antics.

You didn’t even notice the presence of Toji until the low rumbling of a growl sounded from behind you warranting your eyes to move in that direction, only to be met with the sight of your angered significant other: chest heaving with anger, eyes low with vengeance, and muscles flexing ready to pounce and attack.

“I’ll deal with you later, Satoru,” each word that left him was laced with a deep venom, “I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you.”

That was the only verbal warning given to him before you felt the force of strong fingers gripping at your neck dragging you in the direction of your apartment, your breath hitched in a throat and at a loss of words. Silently anticipating what was awaiting you the minute you would step in the threshold of your home.

“Do you not love me?” The click of the door closing and locking is the only sound bringing you away from the maze that was your mind currently, the deep feeling in your gut letting you know that you had really messed up. “Is that why you continue to speak with that filth? It’s because you hate me right?”

“Toji–” The grip of his fingers tightening around the flesh of your neck cuts your sentence premature.

“No, that must be it. You must be thinking of him fucking you right now. You want him to take you away from me, don’t you?” He continues on, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes threatening to spill on to his cheeks. “If I hadn’t come outside when I did he would’ve stolen my precious y/n away from me because he’s a fucking piece of scum like that!” His insecurities dare to pierce through his words as he screams them at the top of his longs, startling you at just how unhinged he was becoming right in front of you.

“Gojo isn’t even my type,” you begin to reassure him, choosing your words carefully, “I could never leave you, Toji. No one has ever loved me as much as you have.” You wish there was a more clear way to relay this to him without having to repeat every other week whenever he decided to have an episode over yet another man that wiggled their way into your life. His accusations were baseless and both of you knew it, but still his words sent a sting to your heart that had tears of your own threatening to spill from your eyes.

It was like nothing you could do would ever be enough for him to feel loved securely and that alone put a knife through your heart.

“You’re lying to me, you’re just telling me what I want to hear! I’m not stupid!” Without warning his fingers wiggle their way in between the rough material of your denim jeans to run a single finger over the damp fabric of your panties, sneer only growing at the realization of your wetness. “Is this for him or me? I can’t tell anymore when it comes to you.”

“For you.” You let out a soft pant when he moves your panties to the side and his bare roughed thumb makes contact with your clit. And in all honesty it was for him. There was something about watching him go absolutely feral over something as simple as another man having a conversation that made you feel appreciated; your toxic interpretation of affection.

“It’s all for you. I don’t love anyone else but you.” It was the extra arousal that accumulated around his fingers that let him know you were telling the truth and even without it he would know you were telling the truth. Your body reacted to his touch and his touch only, conditioned by him to perform how he wanted it too at his will. Your body was meant just for him.

“Kneel for me, darling.’

And so you did exactly just that, obeying his orders the moment he removed his hands from your pants. Not even bother to speak up about how you thought you should leave the corridor of your home and move to the bedroom. Your request would fall on deaf ears anyway.

Sinking to your knees you worked immediately on getting the string holding his white pants together undone, hand going to palm his bulge while you spent your precious time removing his boxers from his hips.

“Hurry up,” He hissed out in annoyance and eagerness. And just like minutes ago you obeyed his command, pulling down his boxers until his cock was springing free and slapping against the lower abs of his stomach.

The impatient traits in him had you grabbing your hair to gain control of you, not allowing your throat time to adjust or get ready for his size before he was lowering your mouth onto his dick. The sudden fullness leaving you gagging around his shaft that only sent shivers up his spine, grunts leaving his lips with each bob of your head he made you do.

The tears that were already brimming your eyes began falling down your cheek when Toji quickened up the thrusts of his hips into your mouth practically fucking it. Drool spilled from the corner of your mouth only lubricating it more and allowing him to move at a quicker pace than before and fit more of his fat cock down your throat, a slight stinging sensation making your throat sore with each thrust.

Even through blurry teary eyes you could see his lower abs begin to construct signaling that he was close to his orgasm already, but instead of shooting his load down your throat and watching as your pretty face got messed up with it, he had different plans in mind. Pulling out of your mouth completely he allowed you a well deserved break to breathe and relax your jaw.

“Say you’re mine.” He commanded from above.

Without a skip your lips moved to say, “I’m yours, Toji. Always and forever.”

Your answer worked in both of your favor because the sneer on his face finally changed into something of a smile at your words.

Leaning down he gropes your breast through the restraint of your shirt before roughly lifting your shirt up and pulling down your bra to release them, a gentle smack landing on both of them soon after.

“Get up and face the wall.” Another command that you obey in seconds, gulping as you anxiously awaited his next move with nervous fingers gripping at the drywall.

Your whole body was suddenly violently jerked from the motion of Toji practically ripping your jeans off of you with his strong hands, not even bothering to remove them from around your ankles but instead using them to keep your mobility limited slightly.

“Mine, only mine.” He mumbles against your neck as he places kisses, sliding your underwear to the side with his index and middle finger to allow his cock access to your hole. Sliding into you until he was at the hilt with a moan that was borderline a groan, precum already dripping into the confinement of your walls.

“Gojo would never be able to fuck me as good as you do.” You pump his head full with a superiority complex knowing it would only make him perform better than he already was and you were correct because immediately he began thrusting up into you at a speed that left your walls contracting around his slick cock and his orgasm from minutes ago already catching up again.

The snaps of his hips were quick, rough, and sloppy but the curvature of his dick against your g spot made any style of thrusting feel amazing to you. The pleasure barely allowed you to stand without your knees buckling in on you, the tight hold Toji had around your waist keeping you from falling on to the floor.

He hammered into you from behind while periodically squeezing the soft flesh of your breast, something he often found comfort in doing. Each lewd gasp that escaped your pretty plump lips only encouraged him to move quicker until he had profanities spilling from underneath his breath.

“Maybe I should know you up,” he suggests, “Make it so you’ll always be tied to me no matter what. Make your belly plump with my offspring. You’d be such a pretty momma and have the most gorgeous post pregnancy body. I wouldn’t be able to resist you.” Whimpers and moans sounded from the both of you at his words. The image he painted turning the two of you on in different ways that met in the middle.

“Gonna get you nice and pregnant so no one else will mess with you again and you won't betray me again.” And with one final thrust he sent long spurts of his warm seed into your pussy. Only pulling away to watch his masterpiece with a smile as cum dripped from your hole and made a mess all over the insides of your thighs.

The same smile adorned his lips as he walked hand in hand with you through the corridor of your apartments months later with your belly protruding and beginning to form a consistent ball while you waddled by his side, so dependent for him for almost everything you did due to the side effects of your pregnancy.

#omggg tysm bestie ily and I hope I fulfilled your request! MUAH !#Spicy.#600 Milestone Event.#toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen smut

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tastyykpop · 3 years

Text

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛-Final

Pairings: jaemin x reader

Genre: smut, fluff (mostly at the end but it's short 🤠)

Warnings: dom!jaemin, brat!reader, brat taming, punishment, overstimulation, edging, face slapping (literally slaps her once), choking (wOw iM sO sHocKeD), hair grabbing, degradation, jaemins gets angrier throughout the story, fingering, finger sucking, praising, unprotected sex, soft sex, y/ns pretty dumb but I think we knew that by now, once again jaemin calls himself nana because shut up

Tag list: @ahgastayzen @allykookiez @wooyugta @dreamlesswonder86 @taetaeismy @nanaysa @patchi-chi @simplicitysbabe @sweetjaemss @huangvibez @kaitherring @xxjaemchenct

It was obvious how tense and awkward jaemin was the entire time you stayed at his house, which lasted longer than you thought. You stayed for two days, per jaemins request, and you thought what if he's finally angry and decides to break. No, it was the complete and utter opposite. Jaemin was sweet, something you've barely seen when he used to bully or make fun of you before all this happened. He made sure you were okay staying with him another night and took care of you when you weren't hungover.

Did anything special happen though? Nope, just you and jaemin cuddling every so often while binge watching Netflix shows while he sometimes cracked jokes here and there.

It was definitely a sight to see. Even made you wonder if this is what its like to date him.

"Nana," you spoke, jaemin lifting his head off your shoulders to give you his attention, "Get up, we need to go to school."

Jaemin groaned, putting his head down on your pillow like chest and began, "Can't we just skip school?" He whined, "Maybe play a bit too?" Jaemin lifted his chin up, placing it on top of your breasts as he pouted, waiting for you to give into his cuteness.

Wouldn't that be nice- but you weren't going to miss school to mess around with jaemin. No way. You weren't even his girlfriend yet and you were sure his little play thing, seulgi, wouldn't be too happy, shes been calling him since he brought you here.

"No." You grabbed him by his hair and peeled him off your body. Jaemin wasn't very amused by the action.

"Oh i get it." He mumbled, "You want to see jeno, right?"

The question caught you off guard. But jaemin being jealous wasn't unknown to you anymore. He was possessive, that much you knew, and he always found a way to guilt trip you about it.

"I mean, we have been talking a lot more so a lil bit." You smiled, earning an eye roll from jaemin as he got up with nothing else to say and stalked his closet for something to wear. You glanced at your clothes which were actually his. And since you never went back to your apartment to get another outfit, you had to wear what you wore at the party.

Eyes stared into your bare back after you threw off the shirt that covered your body. They lingered, but didn't settle on staying until you slipped the bralette on.

Jaemin was going to comment about it, yet kept his mouth shut because there was no use saying he could give you a t-shirt instead, youd just complain about how it didn't match.

But the skirt was a different story. It was a party skirt, something way too short for school. No wonder jeno liked it. And to be honest, jaemin didn't hate it himself, he'd just rather not have people like jeno staring at you and your thighs. You were his. At least in his head you were.

"Fuck!" You screamed, "My bags at home." Softening your voice, jaemin just about wanted to smack you for scaring the shit out of him. He actually thanked the heavens your bag wasn't here, it gave you a reason to change.

"Let's go to your place quickly before school starts." Jaemin grabbed his things and you nodded, following behind him almost speed walking because of how long his strides were. "And change when we get there too."

You looked down at your fit and hummed, stepping into the car ready for jaemin to go.

"I don't think I can handle trig anymore." You bit your lip at the paper in hand. Jaemin looked down over your shoulder and almost scoffed. It was the homework due today, of course it was also one of the hardest pages the professor had given the class too, making it ten times harder for you to finish.

"If you had come over these past few nights, you wouldn't be so stressed." Jaemin shrugged.

It was like you knew he would say that with the way you rolled your eyes and crumpled the paper up, "Im actually thinking of dropping that class." You stated.

"Dont." He rested a hand on your shoulder, "Come over later and I'll help you." It wasn't even a question, in fact it was him telling you to do something. Its clear jaemins had enough of you ignoring him and hes also fed up with your complaining. Even wondered why you held out this long.

"But-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer anymore." Jaemin stated sternly as he sighed, stopping in front of your classroom and put his hands in his pocket. "Stop trying to ignore me," he leaned forward, just inches away from your face, "its not working."

"Just because you think its not working doesn't mean its not working...." You tilted your head to the side questioning your own words, "Anyway, you're jealous." Crossing your arms and leaning against the wall, your ego fed off of jaemins glaring eyes.

"Bullshit," jaemin tsked, "why would I be jealous?"

You smirked despite knowing you were playing a dangerous game with him. And jaemins good at playing games, he's done it to you for years.

You took a step forward, ultimately getting closer to his still leaned over figure and said, "You kept staring at jeno and I at the cafe and you had an attitude the entire time. Its obvious you know." Slithering a hand up his cheek, you pinched his smooth skin, "Nanas jealous."

It was an understatement to say jaemin didn't feel shivers go up his spine from your low voice. For once jaemin didn't have anything to come up with. Nothing crossed his mind to tell you that what you saw of him wasn't him being jealous, but that would be the dumbest of lies.

"Quiet for once? That's a first." You snickered at the small shade of red on his cheeks. It was either anger or him actually getting flustered. Either way you still claimed victory for keeping him surprisingly quiet.

Jaemin pulled your hand away from his face and opened his mouth, "Admit that you're purposely doing it then. There's no way you and jeno are magically good friends now. You hate him just as much as you hated me."

"Im not purposely making you jealous," you lied, "And I never hated jeno, just strongly disliked him for being friends with you."

The older almost laughed in your face from how stupid your lie was. "If you want my attention, say it." He smirked, proceeding to push you against the wall behind you without a second thought making you uncross your arms, "Its not hard y/n."

His hands trailed down to your waist, intensly watching your face as you looked around him, afraid that what he'd do will go too far and some students will see a not so innocent sight.

"Youre full of yourself." You inhaled sharply as he leaned forward ever so closely, just barely brushing his lips over yours.

"And you'll be full of nana soon." Jaemin almost closed the space between you with his lips, but someone stopped him.

"Jaemin!!!" Seulgi came running up to jaemin in her cute high heeled shoes. Her hair bouncing perfectly against her back as she pulled him away from you and into a hug, not before she planted a kiss to his lips as if you weren't standing right there, "I haven't seen you in so long, babe. You didn't call." She pouted with more puppy eyes than normal.

You missed the way jaemin growled at her, almost throwing seulgi off him since you were so focused on them kissing. Never did you think you'd witness it either. Something about it made your stomach churn and you couldnt bare stand there for long before walking away, taking zero notice of the way jaemin called out for you.

"Let's get some coffee before the bell rings." Seulgi pulled jaemin, but his eyes still lingered on the door you entered.

You couldnt stop your mind from racing in class. It was like your mind was playing games on you, telling you that jaemin wasn't in the slightest interested in you and thats why he never answered you, because he was too embarrassed to be seen with someone like you.

But that was only you overthinking.

Obviously jaemin cared for you, he wouldnt have let you stay over his house, tutored you, or be possessive when it came to you. So why did he kiss her back? In front of you too? Was he actually dating her for real?

These questions ran through your head, giving you a mini headache from thinking too hard about it.

It was like you were in high school all over again where everything was dramatic for no reason, well in some aspects you made it this way, but your point still stands.

"Y/n," someone tapped the table repeatedly, bringing you back to reality, "Class is over." jeno looked at you with suspicion but brushed it off thinking you were probably tired.

You glanced around the empty room before looking back at jeno, "Oh...yeah."

"Well uh," he scratched the back of his head, "You should probably get to your next class."

That's the last thing you wanted to do. Jaemin would be there and so was one of seulgis minions that always kept an eye out for anything he did. As annoying as it was, you weren't surprised anymore.

"Im gonna skip."

Jeno grimaced as you stood up and grabbed your things, walking towards the rooms exit as he followed close behind, "You? Skip? What the fuck??"

You stopped in your tracks, jeno almost bumbing into you in the process, "Do I need to spell it out for you or something? S-k-"

"No shut up. Its just shocking that your skipping." Jeno half grinned at the way you stared at him stoically.

"What are you getting at?"

The man before you chuckled, "Im saying youre a goody two shoes and you've never done a bad thing in your life."

You can't say he was wrong, but you also have to admit that you have stepped out of your shell recently and maybe for the better.

"Everyone changes some time in their lives." You pointed out, strolling out of the class to nowhere specific. "Better run to class jeno, dont want the teacher calling you put again."

"Yeah yeah." He eye smiled, giving you a quick pat on the back before saying bye and walking to his class.

You couldnt help but smile at him as he moved further and further away. You had to admit, jeno wasn't as bad as you thought. Not anymore anyway. But as jeno soon disappeared around a corner, you sighed and sauntered to the library where you were going to do your work until class ended.

Students were scattered everywhere in the library, some typing away at their laptops or school computers while others had papers and books sprawled out in front of them. Unfortunately for you, you were going to be the ones with almost any school supply in front of them. And with a sigh and slouched shoulders, you sat at an empty desk near the front of the library, taking your homework out as well as some books.

Normally it wouldn't be a problem for you to focus, but it was stressful with so many things laid out for you. Face palming and groaning quietly at your trig paper, you attempted the first problem which honestly didn't seem too bad, but you weren't always so sure of yourself when doing these kinds of things. Mostly because you second guessed yourself making you pick the wrong answer when you were originally right.

"This is so fucking stupid." You threw your head into your hands, giving up on trying since it was useless anyway. You needed jaemin. He was the only reason you started getting some good grades on your work.

"Whats stupid?"

Speak of the devil.

"The trig home- wait why aren't you in class?" You gazed at him before averting your eyes, not trying to let them linger too long.

Jaemin pulled a chair out and sat closely beside you, raising a brow as you inched away from him. "I could ask you the same thing." He tipped the chair back a little, keeping his eyes locked on the side of your stoic face.

"Im doing something if you can't tell." You snapped, instantly regretting the way your voice raised once you noticed jaemin clenching his jaw out the corner of your eye. But you couldnt help it, you were still frustrated, embarrassed, and jealous from earlier.

"Whats wrong?" Jaemin calmed himself, not wanting to blow up at you.

"Nothing." You ignored his eyes that watched you do out the problem. Probably silently telling you that it was all wrong but you weren't trying to pay attention to him.

"Youre doing it again."

"Doing what? I'm just trying to do my work." After writing your answer down, you checked over tbe work before you smiled to yourself. This had to be the right answer.

"Stop playing dumb." he grabbed your chin, "You know what you're doing."

Wiggling out of his grasp was no use, jaemin managed to move his hand to your jaw to keep you still.

You winced at the sudden squeeze, "I dont know what you're talking about."

Jaemin had enough of this bullshit, now grabbing your neck instead. Your eyes wondered the room hoping no one was paying attention, "Im not playing games with you. Why are you ignoring me again?"

"That's a good question." You looked away and though jaemims grip was starting to hurt more each second, you still found a way to show your disinterest.

Jaemin sighed, letting his hand drop and you inhaled deeply without a second thought. "Whats wrong then?"

"I told you its nothing."

"Bullshit." Jaemin took the pencil out of your hand just as you were about to write, your hand flying up to try and take it back but he pulled away.

"You really wanna know then?" You asked sharply to which jaemin nodded, "You kissed seulgi. Happy now?"

Jaemins mouth fell at your confession. Yes he figured that upset you a bit, but he never thought it was enough for you to ignore him.

"I never even went that far with jeno."

"Never went that far, huh?" He snapped back, shaking his head in disbelief as his face once again was steaming with anger. "Need i remind you how you made out with him at the party. Or were you that wasted and cant remember?"

The new found anger overlapped the previous one with more than just anger, but annoyance. There was no way jaemin was telling the truth, you would never kiss jeno.

"No i didnt."

"Dont tell me you didn't, I fucking saw it." His hand found its way on the table creating a loud bam that startled not only you, but a few kids that even lifted their heads to see what caused the noise. "You were the first one to go that far, so blame yourself before you blame me."

Taking a deep breath, you had to calm down before you said something you'd regret. Knowing jaemin too, you already had something waiting for you at his house.

"I believe you." Jaemin was ready to open his mouth but you were quick and responded, "because i remember." The problem with this answer was because it was untruthful. You already dug yourself a whole from the beginning yet you knew what you were getting yourself into. There was something about playing with jaemins anger that made you go wild.

Determined with your lie, you kept the straightest face like it was proof you recalled that night. Jaemin too was focused only on your face, his hand balling into a fist ever so slowly.

"I remember....he was a really good kisser," you whispered, "And you looked so mad." Snickering away at your words, you placed a hand on jaemins lap and watched his expression go from anger to almost frothing at the mouth.

Bingo. He was too far gone to see through you at this point and this is where you smirked to yourself.

"You're unbelievable." He scoffed, rolling his eyes thinking about how fed up he was, "Lets go."

Despite being told what to do, you sat looking between jaemin and your sprawled out homework. "I have things to do."

Jaemin literally shoved all your papers into your bag, not caring how they crumpled in the small space as you complained and swatted at his arm. Of course though, jaemin payed no mind to it, grabbing your hand and bag before dragging you out of the library.

You fought and struggled to get out of his grip. From the start you knew what you were getting into, that's why you did what you did. Now being dragged to his house it dawned on you that it was time to suffer whatever he had in mind.

"When we get to my house," jaemin locked his eyes with yours as he led you to his car, "We'll study trig, and depending on my mood and your attitude after, I might go easy with the punishment later."

"Im not going over to study and then be punished afterwards." Your voice faltered as you saw a familiar someone walking towards you and jaemin.

Jenos eyes lit up sadistically, smiling at you, telling you to smile back for one reason: to set jaemin off.

You did without hesitation, jaemins hold getting tighter and tighter as he glared at his best friend who walked by, holding the proudest grin on his face.

Once at the car, jaemin shoved you inside the passenger seat, slamming the door before he situated himself in the drivers side. Your eyes watched in annoyance yet you were intrigued. Maybe because you haven't had any action with jaemin since about a week ago.

Resting your head against the headrest, you stared outside the window. There wasn't any way you could hold another conversation with the man, it would only drive your hormones insane.

Its been thirty minutes and to say you were paying attention would be the stupidest thing ever. every word that jaemin said went in one ear and out the other. Some part of you was purposely choosing to ignore him, but your attention span was almost non existent in the first place. So listening to jaemin talk about trigonometry was only boring you.

You tapped out, playing with your pencil or doodling on the paper. Each time you weren't paying attention, jaemin would ask you to write down the answer or a land a slap right on your thigh. It stung and made up jump with shock in your eyes as jaemin told you the same thing each time: "pay attention." But did you? God no. It was impossible. With the thought of a punishment too, it made your mind run like it was in a marathon.

"Little girl," jaemins voice once again brought you back to reality, "what did nana just say?" You shrugged your shoulders slightly, keeping your head down like you were shy yet you were far from it, holding a small grin on your innocent face.

"I dont know, nor do I care." You finally looked up. Jaemin was none too happy, letting his chest fall.

Shaking his head, he said once more to listen and pay attention.

Jaemin took your pencil so he could write out the problem for you, deciding to be nice even though you weren't returning it. You watched the way his pretty hands flexed with every number or letter he wrote. The subtle veins showing every so often too made you almost drool at the sight. Oh what you would do to have him wrap his hands around your neck again.

"Solve it." Jaemin threw the pencil down in front of you, resting his head in his hand to watch you. But you didn't move, not even a simple budge.

"No."

"Y/n its not that fucking hard, just solve it."

You glanced at the paper then the pencil that laid on the table before grabbing it and snapping it in half.

"Im not doing it." You faked a smile, ready for jaemin to snap just like the pencil.

"You need to pass this class, y/n. Stop messing around and pay attention."

You shot up from your seat, "I. Dont. Care. I'm going home."

It wasn't long before he suddenly stood up too, grabbing you by the hair and threw you on his bed, "Okay you wanna act up?" He hovered over you, pinning your arms down on the soft bed as he straddled your lower half. "I dont get why you continue to act like a brat when you know you're going to be punished. Unless you want it?" Jaemins face was merely inches in front of yours not until you blew into his face and smirked when he flinched and pulled away.

"Ever wonder why I act this way? Your easy to push, I can get in your head and make you get mad so I get exactly what I want." You snickered, "Not to mention its to make you suffer for not answering my question." A hand was placed on his covered chest, rubbing small circles on the fabric of the shirt.

Suddenly, jaemin laughed. Though, it wasn't a joyful one. It was more sadistic and filled with amusement, "How is it making me suffer if you're the one about to be punished?"

"Cuz i still get what I want in the end."

"My dick or my attention?"

"Both."

Jaemnn chuckled dryly, quickly sitting back and tearing your clothes off without a second thought.

You were ready to protest about your clothes until jaemin took matters in his own hands and shoved his fingers nearly down your throat to shut you up.

"Im tired of your voice." He spat, "All you talk is shit."

Whimpering around his fingers, you tried anything in your power to try and pry them out. He never moved back, sticking his fingers deeper and deeper until he heard you gag and whine the best you could. Your throat felt so tight and it was getting harder to breathe. Jaemin didn't care, deciding to just fuck your mouth with his fingers as he started pulling your pants and panties down, lifting his hips up so he can take them off all the way.

"It would be so much nicer if you weren't a brat you know." Jaemin began, easily shoving two fingers inside your dripping cunt, "Nana could've stuffed you full of his cock, made love to you, and made you happy. Instead," his fingers that were buried in your heat, curled and pushed in a certain way that made your eyes roll, "You wanted to be a little bitch."

You drew out a long hum, the pleasure felt so good after pushing jaemin for so long. All his anger was going to this one punishment and you should've felt scared, but you weren't. You were excited and loved every bit of it.

The way he fingered you was almost too surreal. It made your body crumple against his will and he wasn't even fucking you yet.

It was getting harder to breathe being filled by his two fingers. Just barely becoming too overwhelming so you tapped his hand to signal you needed to breathe. Jaemin took his hand out, watching your face to make sure you were okay as you gasped for air.

"Are y-you try-trying to kill me or s-something?" You moaned at one particular hard thrust that made your breath hitch.

"Oh shut up, I know you liked it. Probably imagined my cock down your throat." He bit his lip, taking in the thought of what you would look like on your knees for him before shaking it off.

"I-i was n-not."

Jaemin smirked devishly, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out more, but you kept clenching around him. Your hand grabbed his wrists in a death grip, moans fell from your open mouth and jaemin ate that all up. Loving how your body shook, knowing you were so close.

Right when you felt your orgasm coming, jaemin ripped his fingers out of you, essentially letting your juices flow out. But you didn't cum, no you were just that wet.

Your hips lifted up like you would get friction but there was nothing to get friction from, you looked dumb and pathetic.

"Not fair..." you mumbled, frowning at the annoying smirk on jaemins face.

"Punishments aren't supposed to be fair," he said a matter of factly, pushing your hips back down on your bed as he grazed his fingers over your wetness before pushing back in again.

This time setting a ruthless pace, taking in your fucked out expression.

"Jaemin- please im s-so close." Fidgeting and clawing at his wrists, the orgasm built back up. It got closer, closer, closer. Right there, it was right there, but jaemin took it away from you again.

"God, I love this way more than I should. Breaking a brat is so much fun." His fingers dripped with your arousal. He stared at the strand connecting his fingers. It was so much and so lewd, it should've been embarrassing to you yet it made him want more from you. "How many times should nana edge his pretty girl? Maybe-"

"Fuck you." You cried, ready to take this into your own hands and finish yourself off.

Jaemins hand made a perfect necklace on your neck, tightening his grip on the sides so you felt all his anger, "Thats the last thing I would say if I were you."

"W-what are y-you gonna do? Spank me?" Thinking he actually would if you said that, you were slapped across the face, eyes not staring at jaemin anymore but the wall next to the bed.

"Dont test me anymore, your already in for it." He growled into your ear. Leaving his hand wrapped around your neck, he slipped back inside, this time fucking his fingers into you at an antagonizing slow pace.

You wanted to scream and push him away for being a tease, but you reminded yourself that this is what you wanted, this was what you'll get. You had no idea how long this pain will continue though. All you could think about was cumming. In fact, that was the only thing on your mind as he fingered your tight pussy. The pain of not being able to orgasm was so unbearable, it just about made your eyes tear up. Were you that desperate that you'd cry over it?

"I wanna...c-cum so bad..."

The man above you stared at you in disbelief. He basically just started and you were already a mess.

"You really want to cum that badly?" You nodded hastily, tears at the brink of falling, you couldnt hold it in anymore, "Then apologize for all the shit you put us through. Starting with you ignoring me, fake dating jeno, and purposely pissing me off for the hell of it." Jaemin said with his whole chest. Being able to say it out loud reminded him of everything. From the time you started this crap, to now.

"I-im sorry- I'm so f-fucking sorry, jaemin." You forced yourself to look into his eyes, his angry red eyes that tore into your soul to find any lie, yet you had none. You meant what you said with full honesty, "Please nana, l-let me cum."

Jaemin simply gave you a nod and thats when you let everything out. You came all over his fingers but jaemin didn't stop nor slow down. He kept the same rough pace as before and you could only scream and cry from the sensitivity.

Then jaemin started rubbing and pinching your sensitive clit before giving your cunt a slap that made you jolt and cry out.

"Ahh- w-wait jae-mmm....s-so sensitive."

Jaemin rolled his eyes, "thought you wanted to cum? I'm giving you what you want, babe."

Your legs closed around his fingers though it didn't stop him from curling and fucking them inside. He could just easily push them open yet he found your sensitivity amusing which led you to cum again without warning.

"What a pathetic little fucking brat you are." He gathered the white substance that leaked from your clentching hole and shoved it back in, "Making such a mess of yourself."

Your back arched, even more sensitive than before.

The hand on your neck moved down to your breast, squeezing at your nipples and playing with everything he could get his hand on. Your nipples were so sensitive that that alone could make you cry and moan just from a simple touch.

His fingers brushed against your sweet spot where you screamed his name. Being over sensitive made everything feel more pleasurable and painful. Every small touch on your pussy brought you to a shaking pleasure that you couldnt control. It was becoming too much and too overwhelming.

"Fuck, are you gonna cum again? It hasn't even been five minutes." He watched, eyes filled with amazement as you shook and once again, came on his sheets and fingers.

Your shaking didn't stop though, it was like the kind of shake you get when your cold, though you were far from it. The intensity of this orgasm was just too much where even jaemin had to pull his fingers out and let you breathe for a moment.

"You okay, baby?" He asked quietly, kissing your temple as you nodded your head, "Can you give nana one more then?" Not wanting to stop, you nodded without a thought causing jaemin to smile and lean back.

Jaemin finally got rid of his clothing, crawling back on the bed before giving you a kiss so you wouldn't notice how he slipped his cock inside.

Surprisingly jaemin took his time pushing in, savoring your sweet little moans that drove him crazy. He started and kept a slow pace that made the overwhelming feeling dissolve away. Now you were wrapping your legs around his waist and staring into the soft eyes of jaemins that were just red a second ago.

Every vein against your walls made you feel ecstasy. Jaemin was careful with each thrust and it felt like pure love. They were passionate and he didn't fail to show it.

"Taking nanas cock so well, just like the good girl you are." Jaemin smiled at your beautiful face that contorted into pleasure. Both of your moans filled the room. More cuss words were thrown from you like it was the only thing in your dictionary.

The lewd sounds of your bodys bounced off the walls as jaemin fucked you slow and steady, grabbing your hips gently as he kissed all over your face, neck, and breasts. He sucked on your skin here and there, creating small bruises that looked like a tattoo as you grabbed the back of his head, lifting him up by the hair to bring his face to yours so you could place a kiss to his red lips.

The kiss was sloppy and slow. Neither of you cared though, both focused on your orgasms that kept coming closer.

Jaemins thrusts stuttered and his cock twitched inside you. The hand in jaemins hair pulled and messed up his locks, sure to create a messy sight later on.

" 'm gon-gonna cum." You moaned, lifting your hips up to meet his along the way.

"Cum, princess."

The final orgasm left your body feeling like it was on a cloud while all you saw were stars making jaemin coo at your fucked out face.

Pulling out, jaemin finished on your stomach before letting his body fall next to yours, wrapping an arm around your hips and pulling you into him..

You both panted out of tiredness, neither one bothering to move as you were both spent.

"Did I hurt you, princess? Are you feeling okay?"

You smiled into his chest, "no you didn't hurt me and I feel fine."

"Good." Jaemin smiled, petting your hair before laying his head on top of yours, "Wanna go on a date?"

You swear your heart stopped as your face heated up, "Jaemin, you're doing everything backwards."

"So is that a yes or no?"

"Of course its a yes!"

It was a peaceful restaurant that jaemin brought you to, saying it was supposed to be a place a lot of couples went to which you thought was absolutely sweet of him.

"So...uh." jaemin looked anywhere but your face like he didn't just have sex with you for the second time.

You snickered and sipped the drink in your hand, "Why are you so awkward all of a sudden? Its just me."

"I know it's just- I feel like I can't say what I wanna say because I'm afraid." Jaemin sighed.

"Of what exactly?" You placed the drink down, watching as jaemin fumbled with the menu before he covered his mouth and mumbled something you coulsnt quite grasp, "What did you say?"

"...nothing."

"Jaemin."

His doe eyes stared into yours like it was some sort of contest, wanting you to look away first but you and he did, "Alright fine. I said I'm a bit nervous if I were to ask you out."

Tilting your head to the side, you puffed your cheeks out in confusion, "Why?"

"The last relationship I had, the girl cheated on me. Afterwards she said it was because i wasn't good enough." He frowned, returning his attention back to the menu where you presumed was his hiding place for the time being.

"Well she's a bitch and is missing out on an amazing person." You pushed the menu down, "Is that why you acted that way when you saw jeno and I at the cafe? Did you think I thought you weren't good enough?"

Jaemin nodded slowly, "Kind of. I didn't want to lose someone I loved again."

"Loved? Na jaemin-"

"Dont say it." He groaned.

"You've gotten soft! Does this mean what I think it means?" You quirked a suggestive brow at him causing him to put his head in his hand.

"Yes, ill be your boyfriend." He said in his hand before you took it away and grabbed his face to kiss him. "I- princess when did you become do confident?"

"When did you become so shy?"

"Fair point."

Everything felt right all of a sudden. No more of jaemin being your bully. No more coffee being poured on your head. No more stupid high school drama that wasn't even drama in the first place. It was all right for once. And you couldnt say you could complain. After weeks, you got what you struggled to have before; na jaemin.

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Text

Ghost of jealousy [Possessive! America x reader]

Wordcount: 5,545 Synopsis: Alfred gets upset when he finds you hanging around Mathias during his Halloween party. You tell him he’s your friend, but everything escalates into an argument, so he takes it outside to his car. He regrets everything he’s done, but you refuse to talk to him while he drives off to find some lodging for the night—an old inn. While you avoid him by staying in a separate room, it becomes apparent there’s something very off about this place. Something otherworldly. Will he make it up to you by saving you before something terrible happens?

(I was inspired by this song by Michael Jackson, “Ghosts”) The reader is referred to as she/her.

It didn’t bother you that Alfred always disappeared during his parties. He was the host, after all, and you were merely another attendee, boyfriend or not. There were guests to interact with, excitement to arouse, and the general gist of event-running. So while he was off doing his business, you loitered around in the kitchen with one of your friends. You were dressed as a mermaid, with a seashell bra and all, while Mathias was in his pirate get-up.

Here away from the incessant pounding of Halloween classics and chatter, you could actually hear him talk. "I think it’s cute that we’re matching! Are you sure you didn’t wear this on purpose just so we could look like a couple?" He grinned, earning a small gasp from you.

"Hey! It’s not my problem you wear the same thing every year, Mathias. I—on the other hand, change it up." You gloated a little at that, giving his hip a light bump. He had been sipping a cup of punch, but spilled some as a result. "Ah! Jeez.” Because it was so dark, with only jack-o-lanterns and fairy lights to illuminate the house, you never even realized.

"What’s wrong?”

"Why don’t you smell my coat to find out?” He hummed mischievously. Cupping a hand around your head, he pulled you in and pressed your face against a mysterious wet patch.

"Ew! What was that?!" You pulled away and rubbed your cheek as he exploded into a fit of laughter.

"... Juice?"

"That’s right, min prinsesse. And it’s all your fault." Leaning in with his hands on his hips, he tapped your nose. A dash of guilt was present in your eyes, so he quickly added this. "Don’t look so stressed, (F/N)! I always forgive what you do to me. Mostly. This time, if you wanna make up for it, you’ll have to go to our after-party for once!"

You blinked. "After-party? You mean with just you and Lukas and everyone?" He nodded excitedly. The question was innocent enough, but really, you had another concern in the back of your mind. Every year, you and Alfred would spend a night together after the festivities. You could only imagine how upset he’d get if that didn’t happen. He always valued the time together with you, even to the point of being a little excessive. "Mm... I don’t know. Alfred and I usually do something afterward. I’ll ask him."

His wide grin faltered a touch. Alfred this, Alfred that. Mathias couldn’t exactly say he was jealous—though he’d joke about it, a lot—but wasn’t he a little controlling sometimes? "Mm, mm. Not good enough. I won’t take no for an answer!" Scooping you up in a bridal style carry, you let out a small yelp and reached out for his neck to stabilize yourself. "Let the King of Scandinavia save you from the evil clutches of American capitalism!"

"Mathias, you idiot!" You hissed through a flustered expression, but you couldn’t deny you were enjoying yourself. While he laughed away, bouncing you in his arms, you bonked him on the head numerous times. "Put. Me. Down!"

"Ow. Ah! Okay, okay, stop hitting me!" The Dane was as big of a goofball as your boyfriend, but just less serious most of the time. That was right. As your relationship with Alfred progressed, he was less easy-going than he initially seemed. More stubborn. Argumentative. And you never imagined how soon you would see this side of him.

"What’s this about saving (F/N) from the evil clutches of American capitalism?"

The chorus of you and Mathias’s laughter came to an abrupt end. Uh oh. Turning to the voice, you found yourself staring at none other than your boyfriend, dressed in a long orange coat with a Jason Vorhee's mask on the side of his head. And his arms were crossed with an unamused expression. Only then did you feel yourself get set down to the floor. Great. "Alfred, hey! We were just talking about his after-party. You know, the one where they have a lego-building contest?"

"Mhm. Sounds fun. But we’re doing something even better." Reaching out to your hand, he pulled you away from your friend, much to your displeasure. Mathias didn’t look all too happy either. Alfred then managed a small smile, but it was a little strained. "So c’mon, babe. Most of the party’s events are ending, anyway. Let’s go to my car." He squeezed you in his grip and turned to leave, all with you in tow.

But you weren’t having it. Couldn’t he at least let you explain yourself a little better, considering how upset he seemed already? You stopped, the action pulling on his arm so he would too. "Wait, Al. He asked if I wanted to go, and I kinda want to. Just this one time, please? Lukas, Berwald, Tino, and Emil are gonna be there too—" The fact that you were listing all these names only made it blatantly obvious who was in right, and who was in the wrong.

All you were asking for was some time with your friends. But he played the jealous boyfriend role all too well.

He turned to you with a frown. It was annoying enough to see Mathias carrying you like that. But going to a sleepover with him? He couldn’t be any less enthusiastic. "No, (F/N). Halloween is our thing. We’re supposed to spend the night together like we always do." Reaching out to your cheek, he caressed it gently. "You can hang out with them any other day of the year. Just not today."

Unlike other times, you didn’t give in. He already showed up with an attitude, so sweet-talking wasn’t going to cut it. Especially when you felt Mathias’s hand on your shoulder. The thought that he was behind you and trying to calm you down only egged you on to stand your ground. "Any other day? You’d have to exclude Valentine’s Day, Christmas, New Year’s, and St. Patty’s as well. I never get to celebrate them with my friends, either, so can’t you let me go this one time?"

The room fell silent. Even with the Dane’s friends present, nobody spoke a word. And nobody had to because they all shared one thought.

Alfred was being way too controlling.

Almost as if he could read their minds, he felt himself crumble under their scrutiny. "I’m not talking about this here with you." Without another word, he pulled you out of the house against your will.

"And why not? Is it because Mathias is here?" You retorted, feeling bile rise in your throat.

Once you and he disappeared out the door, Lukas made a brief comment.

"... He really has to stop doing that."

“Yep. Man, I wish he’d just step on a lego." The blonde heaved out a sigh.

"Fair enough."

Once Alfred managed to get you outside his car, he turned to you to finally give you an answer. "And what if it is because he’s there, (F/N)?" He exasperated, already feeling his tongue start slipping now that he was alone with you. And his words only held more impact against the deafening silence of the night. "The reason why I don’t want you hanging out with them on special occasions is cuz’ he’s in the group.”

“Why? Do you hate him or something? But that’s got nothing to do with me!" You ripped your hand from his grip to see his eyes widen with shock. This was the first time you ever lashed out, so he could already feel the inklings of regret well in his chest. He should’ve just shut his trap and let you go.

But something told him he would’ve never let that happen.

"They’re my friends, Alfred! You can’t expect me to pass on every invite they give me just because you don’t like someone!"

He dug his hands through his sandy locks of hair stressfully.

"That’s the thing! Mathias obviously doesn’t just wanna be friends with you! He likes you, I can tell!" He yelled.

The cat was finally out of the bag now. What had been plaguing his mind for months was this—competition. And he hoped that admitting it would somehow get you to understand his behavior, no matter how uncalled for it had been.

But you didn’t. You refused to.

Your jaw dropped, but not out of surprise. Instead, it was pure disappointment. "Even if he did, are you saying you don’t trust me with him?" You scoffed, folding your arms at him.

At this point, Alfred knew how bad he fucked up.

"No, that’s not what I—" His brows knitted together, and his cerulean blue eyes welled with moisture. "I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I just..." But it was.

Wasn’t it?

Otherwise, why else was he so possessive of you?

"It’s exactly what you meant. If it wasn’t, you’d be defending yourself by now." A small smile curled up at your lips, and it was from anything but mirth. It was your defense mechanism to keep the waterworks at bay, but even that had failed you. The tears finally came spilling over the rim, streaming down your face as he watched on with guilt.

"Even if you hate him, he’s not what you think he is. It wouldn’t matter if he loved me. He wouldn’t do anything because he respects me." Reaching up to your eyes, you rubbed them, but the effort was in vain as you let out a sob. "If you’re so quick to doubt me, then maybe..." You struggled to string together the words as you continued to cry. "Maybe we shouldn’t..."

Maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore.

Alfred froze. Anything but that. And yet, you had all the right in the world to think of ending things. But his heart couldn’t take it.

"No, no, no... Don’t you finish that sentence..." You would probably hate him after this, but kissing you was what he first thought of. The connection between his and your lips managed to silence you, and the close proximity let you feel the waves of heat radiating from his face. And he continued to kiss you, gently, for as long as you let him until you decided to shove him away.

"Don’t." You whispered faintly, albeit firmly. Leaving his side to get into the passenger seat of his car, you buckled yourself up and turned to the window.

He breathed out a sigh, but joined you in the driver’s seat. Facing you with remorse so deep, it made his eyes droop. "You know I love you, right?"

You were still crying, and you never spared him so little as a single glance.

He royally screwed up, for sure.

The engine purred to life. Now, to find a place to stay for the night. Hopefully, he could make up with you before lights out. But his gut told him it wouldn’t be so simple. The car began to move, crushing sticks and leaves under the wheels as he drove on a dirt path deep in the woods. He picked this cabin for the ominous ambiance, but he was beginning to regret his choices. The same could be said for everything he did tonight, hell, the same could be said for how he acted all these months.

He was the jealous, insecure, shitty boyfriend.

And the whole time, he never realized how kind you were to put up with him.

He wanted to tell you he trusted you. To pull you into his arms and apologize a million times. But what could he say to convince you when he’d come off as a liar? Even he didn’t know if he could be honest. Why did Mathias’s presence get him to feel like this, anyway? He boiled it down to how similar he was to him. Like you always said, he and Mathias were two of the same person. Loud, fun, and obnoxious sweethearts. So of course he started comparing himself to him.

And he was doing it right now. He couldn’t imagine Mathias ever having these kinds of problems if he dated you. Fuck. Aside from self-loathing and bitter regret, he was beginning to feel the beginnings of ugly jealousy all over again.

Are you serious right now, Alfred? He thought.

Narrowing his eyes on the road that seemed to disappear, he slowed to a stop. Was it just him losing concentration over these thoughts, or did he really lose his way? Perhaps. But at least he found something. He peered around his windshield to see a few rooftops resembling an old, vintage villa in the distance. Could that possibly be a motel?

He sped up and drove closer and closer until he reached a clearing. Climbing out of his car with you trailing close behind, he made his way to the entrance of the establishment. There was an open lawn in front of the building, and in one of the gardens stood a wooden sign with "The Aura Inn" inscribed into it. Neither of you thought much of it, let alone read the little sub-paragraph of text below it.

"Let’s go." Looking at you over his shoulder, he held out a hand for you to take. You just brushed past him and kept walking. Right. He forgot for a second that you were mad at him.

The only thing that concerned you was having somewhere to stay the night, so the reception was the first stop. Making up with him could come later.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by nothing but an empty room. There was no furniture besides a wooden counter, and even then, it was lacking quite a few amenities. There was no receptionist here either, and yet, the lights were on. That could only mean one thing. Somebody was here, just not in a way you liked. But you were just overthinking, weren’t you? Needless to say, this inn was starting to feel a little off to you.

Gripping the scales of your mermaid dress, you turned to Alfred with a nervous glance. Immediately, he responded with a reassuring smile.

"You okay, babe?"

Hold on. Did he just call you babe? Your mood went sour when you felt yourself nearly give in to him. What he did couldn’t be forgiven so easily, otherwise, how could he take your feelings seriously? So you forced yourself to lie.

"Yes." You murmured. "I’m perfectly fine."

He knew you were lying, but he couldn’t blame you.

"Okay. I’ll just... Get us a room. I think this is an Airbnb." He pulled out his phone.

The thought of sleeping in the same bed as him irked you, to say the least. After the stunt he pulled today, which effectively stopped you from going to Mathias’s after-party, you needed some space. That was right. How come after all these years, you’ve never been to one of his infamous after-parties? Even though you were a close friend of his? It was simple. Because Alfred never let you go. God, thinking about it just made you relive the anger all over again.

So before he finished the booking, you reached out for his arm.

"Wait. I don’t want to be in the same room as you."

He paused, and you saw sadness flash in his eyes. And once again, you found yourself tempted to cave. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

"... Oh. Sure." Alfred finished with the online forms and walked you to your room. The halls were long, winding, and dimly-lit. You would’ve thanked him for accompanying you in this unsettling place, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Once you managed to open the door, which wasn’t locked, he gave you a reluctant goodbye. Resting his arms against the doorframe, he gazed down at you with a bittersweet smile. "Night, babe. I’ll see you in the morning—"

The door slammed in his face and he cringed.

"... Love you too." He murmured, clenching his fists against the door. This was by far the worst argument he’s ever had with you, and it was all his fault.

Pressing your back against the door, you felt blood rush up to your face after hearing what he said. He nearly had you. But you managed to seal yourself away in the safety of your room. It hurt to push him away, but you had to. He couldn’t keep having his way. Alfred needed to accept the consequences of his actions, and you needed to be strong enough for that to happen.

And plus, he needed to get used to not having you around him all the time. But the boy was excessively clingy, and you let this carry on for far too long.

Unpacking your things on the bed, you got your things ready for a shower. As you melted into the hot embrace of the water, your concerns of this inn melted away too. It was just Halloween jitters, wasn’t it? Turning off the faucet, you dried yourself off with a towel before getting dressed. When you exited the bathroom, your room was plunged into almost pitch-black darkness. But you never turned off the lights.

Perhaps this was an energy-saving function.

Well, it saved you from the effort of going to the light switch, anyhow.

Before you moved from your spot, you shuddered at the feeling of a cold draft blowing against your body. Looking over to the source, you were shocked to see that the door was wide open, letting the dim halls stare back at you.

There was probably a little wind tonight, and somehow, you didn’t shut the door properly. Making your way to close it again, you made sure you heard a little click. When you did, you didn’t feel any wind from outside at all, not even a gentle breeze.

Weird.

Setting your things down on the bedside table, you climbed into bed and tucked yourself in. While you made yourself comfortable, you faced the entirety of the room, which had a small wall-mounted TV, rocking chair, and desk. Of course there was a rocking chair. And you somehow couldn’t tear your gaze away from its faint outline in the dark.

Then, it began to rock.

Forwards and backward as if an invisible entity was sitting in it.

“!” Your blood ran cold and you buried your head underneath the blanket. Something was in the room with you. Unlike before, you couldn’t blame it on the wind because you just closed the door. As you came to terms with that reality, the icy hands of fear gripped around your heart. Your breathing grew ragged and uneven. There was something behind you. Someone behind you.

You could practically feel their presence creeping towards you. Closer and closer to your bed as the carpet compressed under its footsteps. Your chest constricted when you felt the bed dip under a weight.

Then, it began to crawl.

But you were too terrified to scream, let alone move.

In that moment, you never regretted your decisions this much in your life. And you never wished more for Alfred to be with you.

Unbeknownst to him as he finished up with his own shower in his room, you were left paralyzed in bed. If he’d known what was happening, he would have run to you as fast as he could. But he didn’t. He only assumed you were busy brooding over him, and maybe even second-guessing your relationship with him. The thought was reasonable, and that upset him to no end. Throwing his towel to a random spot in the room, he fell on his back onto the bed.

Reaching out to the ceiling to stare at his arm, he sighed.

“I’m so sorry...” He murmured, lowering his hands to cover his face with them.

If he was lucky, he’d be able to make up with you by the end of tomorrow. But for now, he was burdened with uncertainty. But his attention was quickly diverted to something else. A laugh. Your laugh. Sitting up with visible confusion, he listened in to the muffled sounds of your voice down the hall.

The walls here were thin, so it didn’t surprise him he could hear you so clearly.

But what did was what he heard next. Another voice talking, and it belonged to a boy. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he registered it as someone he knew. Mathias. Wait a second, what the hell was he doing here? But there was no way he could be, right? Didn’t he have an after-party to be at? The longer he eavesdropped on the conversation, the more obvious it became that it was Mathias. And they were talking about him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come this year. Again. But you know how Alfred gets.”

“Yeah... Don’t worry about it. This can be our own little after-party. Just as long as he doesn’t find out, you’ll be fine!”

Wait, what?

From what he heard, it sounded like you really had moved on. But you never had the decency to tell him, and that was what filled him to the brim with betrayal--it broke his heart. Was this why you wanted to be in a separate room tonight? Sliding himself off the bed, he stormed out the door to find you. His glasses were already fogging up, but he never bothered to clear them as he marched down the empty halls.

Your voices grew louder and louder, all until he came to a stop outside a room he never booked. That was right. He applied for one with a single bed. He could only imagine what you were doing with Mathias in a room with a double bed.

The laughing continued behind the door.

“You know these walls are thin, right?” He began lowly. Swinging open the door, the noises disappeared along with the people inside. The room was completely dark, and when he flicked on the lights, you and Mathias were nowhere in sight. Not a soul was in here.

“... What the fuck.” He grumbled.

He swore he heard you both giggling away like school children. Did you two hear him coming and hide somewhere? He was skeptical, but he checked around nonetheless. In the wardrobe, then under the bed. There was no sign of either of you. The shower, maybe? Stepping into the bathroom and pulling open the curtains, he was prepared to catch you red-handed. But there was nothing there except for a porcelain white tub. A defeated sigh fell from his lips. What the hell was going on? Alfred was completely sober, a miracle considering he usually drank at his parties. So he had a terrible feeling he wasn’t just hearing things. That only pointed towards one explanation.

This inn was totally haunted.

And whoever, or whatever that haunted it was toying with him.

He swallowed thickly and turned to the mirror, only to jump at what he saw. The reflection revealed a figure standing behind him.

It was Mathias, except his face was twisted in a sick smile.

“Holy shit--!” Alfred paled as he stared face to face with the entity. As he lost himself in its soulless, blue eyes, he was overcome with dread, almost as if the spirit was forcing fear into him. Reminding him of his failures, insecurities, and the uncertainty of his relationship. All of his faults flashed in his mind again and again so incessantly, he thought he would break down on the spot.

Where is (F/N)?

She doesn’t want you anymore.

You should just give up.

And the deeper in he spiraled into these self-destructive thoughts, the wider the entity smiled, its lips stretching to impossible lengths it became grotesque. Darting his wide eyes around the reflection in his bout of panic, he saw its hand reach out to his shoulder in the mirror. He didn’t know how he managed to do this, but he spun around quickly to defend himself. And there was nobody there.

In his brief moment of disorientation, the spirit shot out two arms, breaking the barrier of the glass. Tightening its hands around his neck, Alfred was pulled back against the mirror and choked. “Gh--!” His airway was completely constricted by the iron grip, and he was forced to struggle a few inches above the ground.

Digging his fingernails into the hands, he never felt them loosen.

So he did the unthinkable--he started to smash his fist against the mirror. It hurt like hell and left his knuckles bruised and raw, but the thought of you in danger kept him going. That was right. There was no saying if you weren’t being choked, attacked, or worst. Punching the glass again and again, it finally shattered, and the grip around his neck loosened.

The mirror was reduced to shards and fell into the sink.

Falling to the ground in a loud thump, he stood up while coughing violently.

The arms disappeared, and so did the entity.

And Alfred had a feeling it had to do with the mirror it was in.

Leaving the bathroom with heavy breaths, he ran back to his room and picked up his chainsaw. Halloween had the perks of carrying around dangerous tools, and he was never this glad that he took it with him instead of leaving it in his car unattended. Too bad he was out of costume, though. But a white tank and boxers would do. Holding it above his chest, he revved his chainsaw and ran out the door.

It was time to fuck shit up.

You were still stuck in bed, but the spirit managed to remove your blanket. A soft whimper fell from your lips as your only form of protection was stripped away. If you thought you were terrified, then you would prove yourself wrong with a whole new level of fear as two arms wrapped around your neck from behind. No way. Was it going to choke you? One of its legs was thrown over yours, so you were completely enveloped by its limbs.

As you trembled away in the dark, you let out a soft cry when you felt its warm breath tickle your ear.

“I missed you. Why didn’t you wanna stay in a room with me?” It cooed, the voice sending shivers down your spine. It sounded strangely similar to Alfred’s, and what he said was exactly what he would’ve said too, except it wasn’t him. You never saw him come in, and the last time you checked, he wasn’t invisible.

“... W-What... What are you?” You stammered, feeling a hand glide down your bare thigh. “Stop--”

“I’m his desire, sweetheart.” It began in a low and alluring voice. “Every feeling in the Aura inn festers into a semi-physical form. That’s why I’m here right now. Because he wants you.”

You screwed your eyes shut. Just what the hell kind of place was this inn? A magical hut that personified emotions? “... Can you please let me go? I don’t like the way how you’re... Hugging me.” You pleaded, only to feel the entity tighten itself around you.

“But I don’t want to. He doesn’t want to.” It responded with a hum. “I reflect everything he wants. And currently, he wants to see you more than anything. Especially when he’s dealing with jealousy... And having a hard time at that.”

“Jealousy?” It wasn’t shocking, per se, but he had you curious. If desire festered into a sultry form of someone and hugged their object of affections, what did jealousy turn into? “... I knew he was jealous of Mathias. But that’s not the problem here. We’ll sort it out later. If you’re desire, then what’s jealousy like?”

It let out a deep, foreboding laugh. “Depends. If it’s only a little bit of envy, he’ll start hearing things that hit his nerves. Nothing but... Harmless fun.” You felt yourself get rolled onto your back, and you were caught off guard by what loomed over you. It was Alfred himself, or more accurately put, his personified desire, but this time, you could see him. “But if his jealousy gets mixed in with insecurity, that’s when things get pretty ugly...”

You furrowed your brows with concern. “Ugly? How so? Is he gonna be okay?”

It craned his head from side to side. “Who knows.”

“But I’ll tell you a few things that I do know. Jealousy tends to be pretty sneaky. It’ll snoop around in mirrors and attack him.” You tensed up all over. “So Alfred will have to smash every mirror in the inn to get it to come out. And when it does, all he needs to do is be with you to send it away.”

Loud chainsaw noises were heard down the halls, silencing both you and the entity. Following that was the shattering of glass.

“... Hm. Looks like he already figured it out.”

Joy filled you to the brim and you smiled wide. “He really did! I’m so glad!” Reaching out to hug the entity around its chest, you pulled away and slid yourself off the bed.

“Thank you, um, Alfred’s desire! I’m gonna go find him now!”

He laid on his side and watched you run off. “You can just call me Alfred.”

“Okay, Alfred!”

While you exited the room to stand in the halls, you found yourself staring at a number of doors that were wide open, and the lights on inside. You assumed those were the rooms he already cleared, which meant he still had quite a bit to do. But he was fast. Appearing out of one room, he continued tearing down door after door to smash every single mirror and window in the inn. And soon, he managed to reduce every piece of glass present into shards.

Once the chainsaw revs came to a stop, you called out his name.

“Alfred!”

He jerked up at the sound, then glanced around. “(F/N)!?” While he was on the first floor in the courtyard, you were on the second in the mezzanine, so he had to glance up to see you. “Oh God, I was so worried! Are you okay?” He shouted.

“Yes!” You called back. “This place is... Super haunted. Let’s get out of here!”

“You called it. I nearly got murdered!”

Running down the stairs to meet with him, you practically jumped onto him after he dropped his chainsaw to the ground. Embracing you with his strong arms, he pressed kiss after kiss all over your face. While he did, you spotted another figure standing by the stairs. Was that Mathias? You couldn’t take a better look at him before he disappeared into thin air. “Oh my fucking god. I missed you so much.” He exasperated, setting you down on your feet. “You won’t believe what happened. I’ll explain everything in the car.”

As he led you out of the Godforsaken inn, he gripped you tight with his hand. And you squeezed right back. “Let me guess. You were attacked by something in the mirror so you shattered every single one here. I know.”

At this point, you and him had arrived outside his car.

Turning to you with shock, he placed his hands on his hips.

“And how the hell did you know? I thought it was original enough that you wouldn’t be able to guess!” He exclaimed, much to your amusement.

“Mm... Not really. With how many horror movies you’ve watched, I wouldn’t put it past you to come up with a solution like that.” Giving him an affectionate pinch on the cheek, he rubbed the spot with a light pout. You considered telling him the truth, but you already wanted to forget tonight. If he didn’t know about it, then moving on yourself would be so much easier.

“Now, I think you have some apologizing to do.”

He softened his gaze. “Yeah... I really do. Sorry for everything. Sorry for being a dick. And not just... For today.” Pulling you into another hug, he nestled his chin into your shoulder. God, did it feel good to have you in his arms again. “I’m gonna be real. I never hated Mathias. He’s my friend. But seeing him with you gets me... Really jealous. And it’s not cuz’ I don’t trust you, it’s because I’m...” His cheeks grew rosy. “I don’t know. I just feel...”

You knew he’d get stuck at this part, so you helped him.

“Because you feel insecure?”

“... Yeah.”

“You idiot...” A soft, content sigh was heard from your end. “It doesn’t matter how similar you are to him. You don’t have to try to make any changes or keep him away from me for me to choose you.”

His heart fluttered as he released you with a sheepish smile.

“I really needed to hear that. So, thanks.” Alfred murmured, reaching out to cup your cheek. “Kinda lame of me to put you through that. I should’ve just talked it out with you.”

“Yeah, you dumbass.” You grumbled, but it was on an affectionate note.

“So, do you think we’ll make it in time to the party for me to carpool with Mathias back to his place? I wanna see what they’re building this year!”

He frowned, but his expression was short-lived as a smile began creeping onto his lips. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m kidding!”

🎶 Tell me, are you the ghost of jealousy?

This is a request. Thank you for requesting.

#parry this you fucking casual #hetalia #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia x reader #america x reader #aph america x reader #APH America #axis powers hetalia #Axis powers ヘタリア #supernatural #ghosts #spooky #halloween #request #oneshot #ask answered #reader insert #alfred f jones

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everythingsinred · 3 years

Text

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 20)

PART TWENTY! I've written thousands and thousands of words about this particular character's love. That's really crazy. And you guys read thousands and thousands of words! And we're not even done yet!

We will talk about the second half of this "gap arc", including one of my favorite chapters, and then the school will turn upside down, as we will see in the next part.

Chapter Ninety-Three

Mikan was so exhausted saving Narumi from Persona’s alice that she ended up hospitalized. Nobody else seems to know much of what really happened except Natsume, who spends so much time in the hospital these days that it would have been more surprising if he didn’t know she was there too.

Besides, Natsume knows so much about Mikan. He knows about her mom and that the ESP is interested in Mikan possibly possessing the stealing alice. He knows that she’s in danger. He’s vigilant, as I’ve said, and this vigilance means absorbing all possible information. He overhears Narumi warning Mikan to keep her new alice a secret, and Natsume gets confirmation that Mikan does indeed have the stealing alice, that Narumi knows and wants to protect Mikan too, and that this information could possibly get to the ESP if they’re not careful.

Dead man walking. Or rather... dead boy walking.

He walks away from her room, unseen, coughing. He walks down a hall of doctors and patients and nurses and he doesn’t stand out at all. Natsume’s presence in the hospital is so normal that nobody bats an eye anymore. Kaname is hospitalized for long stretches of time, as we shall continue to see, but Natsume merely goes to the hospital for limited periods of bed rest and for getting huge bags of medicine to take before bed so he doesn’t accidentally pass away in his sleep. Natsume might be in just as much need as Kaname for long periods of hospitalization, but he can’t for two reasons.

One, the school absolutely does not want that. They want their favorite child soldier to be always at the ready. He can’t be at their beck and call at all times if he’s cooped up in a hospital bed. He needs to be where they can grab him easily, and pumping him full of medicine and pretending that’s enough for him is the most they will do.

Two, Natsume absolutely does not want that. Mikan is in more danger than ever, and being sequestered in a hospital without seeing anyone leaves her alone and unprotected. How is he supposed to spy on the ESP and Persona for information on Mikan if he’s hospitalized? He needs to be free as a bird, just like they want him to be, so that he can be at Mikan’s beck and call. At the slightest threat, he will be there for her.

Later, when Bear follows Mikan around while Kaname is sicker than ever, Koko can discern that Bear wants Mikan to steal Kaname’s alice from inside of him. Many people are onlooking, and Natsume has a shocked expression, not because he didn’t know that Mikan has the stealing alice, but because he’s concerned for what consequences may come if more people find out. If the ESP comes to hear any of this, serious issues will arise. Things are already dangerous enough, but if the ESP finds out, then turmoil will come sooner than later.

This is an "Oh, shit" moment! How terrible.

Things get worse when the rumors about Mikan’s alice spread through the upper divisions. Mikan gets chased by upperclassmen who want her to steal their alices because they think their star rank will go up if they can catch her in the act. The ESP seems to have purposefully spread such a rumor in order to speed things along. He wants to push Mikan into a corner, perhaps force her into using her alice and exposing herself, so that he has an excuse to swoop in and take her into his custody.

We see a panel of Natsume hearing the news of the middle schoolers’ pursuit of Mikan and he’s just as shocked as before. Her life is endlessly hectic in the worst way. She is always under attack from rumors and speculation and being honest about her alice will only end poorly for her. This is the last glimpse we get of him this chapter, but his reactions, despite the fact that he says nothing this whole time, is enough to give hints to where his mind is right now. His priorities and concerns are all made clear, building up to when he will eventually be quite needed.

Chapter Ninety-Four

Class B is getting ready for swimming lessons in P.E. Most of the class, especially Mikan, are excited for this.

There’s not much Natsume in this chapter either, but we can see him on the poolside, obviously not well enough to swim. Swimming is one of the most physically taxing exercises because of how much it requires you to use your full body. Natsume can’t waste what little energy he has on P.E. when he has missions to do. Those are much more important.

Mikan may get occasionally down or sad about her alice and the uncomfortable state of things, but Ruka is there to cheer her up and play water polo with her. Natsume simply looks on.

Tsubasa spots him, and instantly looks troubled. He and Natsume are not just both in the DA class now, they’re also going on many of the same missions. He’s also the only one who knows the truth about Natsume’s alice shape, and how much the taxing missions affect his body. Seeing Natsume sit on the side and not join in with the others is not a good sign. He’s not doing well.

Fun and games are over! It was never gonna last long anyway!

The panel of everyone having fun while Natsume coughs by himself, isolated from everyone, brings to mind the page from Chapter Nine, so long ago. The last page of that chapter has Natsume being sent on a mission, in stark contrast to the final panel of the rest of the class having fun and bonding over dodgeball.

He could never join in for long was the message we got then, and it’s not any less true now. Natsume let himself get attached to Class B and to Mikan in particular but his fun happy times of joining in on the fun were never meant to last. He can’t play the sax anymore. He can’t run around with the rest of them. Luna was a warning to him as much as she was to Mikan. His time is running out and his life will always be too different from the rest of theirs. He will always be shrouded in darkness and an imminent death. They can take occasional breaks from the stress and worry of their lives, but he can’t. Not anymore. Not in any real way. Not without it taking a serious toll on his body.

The last page features two groups of best friends: Natsume and Ruka looking out the window at Hotaru and Mikan as they walk through the rain.

Bad things are going to happen. And that right soon.

There’s a feeling of foreboding in this arc. The last page carries some threat with it while also trying to stay on the side of hope. One should not take things for granted is the main take-away, a harsh lesson for these kids to learn, especially in this way.

These few chapters between the Sports Fest and the next arc are almost similar to the gap chapters between the Hana Hime den chapters and the Sports Fest. They are a much needed respite from the heavy chapters before and after. The difference is that these gap chapters are heavier and there’s a threat looming over Mikan and the others in each one. The happiness and lightness of the Valentine’s day chapter are not present, even in this sweet chapter about swimming. Everyone is unsettled and disturbed, aware that something horrible is to come.

Chapter Ninety-Five

And nothing good ever lasts, as this chapter reveals. The tension that has been building for so long is starting to reach a boiling point.

A lot will happen here. Hotaru gets called to the headquarters. Yuka returns to the Alice Academy campus to find Mikan. Tsubasa goes missing.

God, could they stop sending children to get blown up for FIVE MINUTES?!

Natsume and Tsubasa are separated during a nondescript mission. A warehouse explodes and Natsume screams out for Tsubasa, not knowing where he’s disappeared to, or if he’s even still alive.

Tsubasa is missing, his location unknown. Natsume has returned to campus from the mission, but he hasn’t been seen by anybody yet either. He’s busy trying to locate Tsubasa, trying to find information.

Natsume goes on missions all the time. He goes with other DA types and is frequently in life or death situations with them. That being said, he hates most of his classmates, Youichi being one exception. But Tsubasa is different. They have an unspoken respect for each other, and might even be considered friends. They spent a lot of time in the DA class on missions that we haven’t seen in the manga and their work to find--or rather not find--Yuka and protect Mikan has probably brought them closer.

Natsume wants to find Tsubasa because he’s so important to Mikan, because she loves him like a big brother and losing him would break her. He wants to find Tsubasa because Tsubasa is his friend too. If something happened to him on a mission they went on together, then it’s his responsibility to bring him back, and he might even feel guilty for his disappearance as well. Knowing what we do about Natsume’s self-esteem, martyr complex, and tendency to blame himself for everything, he is probably not taking this very well.

It’s exciting and nerve-wracking to see so many people involved in this chapter, but seeing as everything’s coming to a head, many of the characters narratively have to be involved.

Nobara, who discovers that Narumi plans to run away with Mikan to keep her safe from what’s to come, is soon after made aware that she will be blessed with a friend in the DA class: Mikan. Nobara and Natsume do not get along, but so far she’s been diligent in communicating with him about information she discovers that he would not otherwise find out. There’s no way she wouldn’t try to reach out to him, which explains why he knows about it.

Natsume has been mainly absent from the chapter, and from school as well. Nobody has seen him, because he’s too busy trying to find Tsubasa. But it’s nighttime now and everyone is going to sleep. The rumors about Tsubasa’s disappearance are all around the school and he knows that Mikan knows by now. And she’s all alone.

So he takes a break from all the work he has to do to go and comfort her. He cannot leave her alone, even if he originally planned on it.

He appears in her window and she rushes to him. She asks him questions, about where he’s been and all those wounds on his body, but he didn’t come here to talk about what happened to him. He’s here for her. He confesses that he hadn’t wanted to see anyone until he’d found Tsubasa safe and sound, but he had to see her, fearing that she was crying on her own.

They're both sad. They're each other's comfort.

Natsume knows Mikan, that she frequently acts fine even if she’s suffering. Her resilience and determination are great traits, and it’s easy to get lost in the illusion that she should always be bubbly and optimistic and smiling, but even a girl like Mikan needs to let it out sometimes. Finding out that someone you love is missing is not easy, and smiling in the face of that is not something that even Mikan can do all the time. She needs comfort, and Natsume wants to be there for her.

He’s wanted this the whole time, deep down, to be someone she could rely on, someone who could comfort her, and now he’s the only one who can. All the things he’s wanted to do for her this whole time: to comfort her, to tell her it’ll be okay, to hug her. He does it all because after all they’ve been together, she knows now that he’s someone she can rely on.

She’s crying, and she admits that she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to, because she has to cry in Natsume’s place.

Natsume came to comfort her, yes, but he’s been through a lot too. He also cares about Tsubasa and has been suffering on his own for even longer. He also needs comfort, and because he won’t let himself cry, she’ll do it for him. Mikan can see that he can’t afford to not be perfectly composed all the time. She’s thinking of him, too, and it must be nice to be seen so clearly by somebody he loves.

She knows that he's close to Tsubasa too, even if he won't admit it. THEY'RE EACH OTHER'S COMFORT.

He tells her he will find Tsubasa, and “about her too”, which means he’s letting her know he’s taking care of her. He will keep an eye out and try to keep her safe. He’s hinting that he knows about her other alice, and that he’s on top of it. He has to go now, but his farewell--his promise--is his final way of comforting her for the night. She doesn’t need to worry too much about Tsubasa or what will happen with the school, because he will fix it all. He will protect her.

Conclusion

There's something looming over the kids at the academy. Something really bad is going to happen, and everyone seems somewhat aware at this point. Natsume is at the ready for the slightest threat to Mikan, and he will finally be able to spring into action in the next edition of this already-too-long essay.

So... This is the twentieth part. If I'm to guess, I'd say there's not going to be another ten parts to make it to thirty, but I might be wrong, depending on how long my analysis gets in the last parts of the manga. As I post this, I'm about fifty chapters ahead (which sounds impressive but actually isn't considering the Time Travel Arc has groups of entire chapters that I had to skip). Maybe it'll get to something like twenty-eight but I'm not sure about thirty. We'll see. Once upon a time I thought it'd be forty, even! No, not Natsume's. Mikan's, maybe, but not Natsume's.

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years

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Chapter 8 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“Oh, hello there Sakura.”

She almost lost her balance when she saw her next customers. Standing beside Kakashi with her arm entangled in his was a brunette, a spitting image of Dr. Aki Nohara, a giveaway that this was her sister. Sakura’s surroundings dimmed out of focus, and her hearing became muffled as if she was submerged underwater.

“Couldn’t mistake that green eyes for anyone,” Kakashi continued. “I’ll have a caramel butterscotch with extra whipped cream – make it super heavy – and Rin –“

“That’s supposed to be my order, you dummy,” the woman replied beside him. He chuckled in fascination and tightened his hold on her arm. “Besides, you don’t like sweets.”

“You’re still on a specialized diet so allow me to eat and drink whatever you want while you stick with – “ Kakashi glanced at Sakura, and she immediately mustered a tight-lipped smile. “One iced americano in your smallest size please. Thanks, Sakura.”

She took in a deep breath, suddenly aware that she wasn’t able to acknowledge her teacher and his companion, but so many things have been running through her head – like how did he know it was her? Why was he with Rin? Did he propose already? She hasn’t even confessed yet.

Somehow, in the dragging silence in her ears, she heard Sasuke cleared his throat. That was enough to break her from the spell, and she put on her bravest mask. “Hi Kakashi-sensei. Nice of you to drop by! I’ll have your order ready in a jiffy.”

Kakashi turned around and waved lazily at Sasuke. “One of my students is here too. Are you on a red eye advance study?”

“Can’t sleep so might as well have caffeine.”

“You’re too young to have this energy.”

Rin jokingly slapped Kakashi on the arm. “You talk as if you’re old already.”

“But aren’t I?” The pair slowly drifted away to find a table, but Sakura noticed the flash of recognition when Rin took a long good look at Sasuke, but her friend stared at them like he was throwing sharp draggers.

“He looks happy,” Sakura noted as she fixed their drinks.

“I want your favorite coffee,” Sasuke quipped out of nowhere.

“There’s a thing called palpitations. It’s caramel macchiato.”

“Might do me some good while I wait for you to finish your shift.”

Sakura sighed, feeling the tiredness come upon her all of a sudden so she relented. “Just take it to-go. I want to get out of here.”

She quickly asked permission from the manager, saying she felt sick and fatigued, and with her clocking overtime in the past few weeks, her request was immediately approved without deductions. The mixed winter and spring air hit her lungs as soon as she stepped outside. Sasuke waited for her across the street, a gesture that implied she could go to him or separate ways right now. As she vied for time to decide, she took one last look through the window.

It was a foreign sight. She has never seen Kakashi’s attention torn apart from his books. Even if he was talking, there would be an open page on his side, stealing glances on passages when the conversations got boring, yet there he was, fully attuned to whatever Rin was saying with no book around him…like she was his favorite book and he enjoyed reading every letter of her.

And Sakura realized she could never be the story he would even want to pick up.

She felt the tears coming so she started her pace on the same road. Across from her, Sasuke got the signal and went the other way.

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

The last term of their second year came like a bazooka. Sakura threw herself on her pet project as a sort of coping mechanism. The announcement was done during the general assembly which did not generate the intended buzz or reaction. After all, it was a tricky topic to handle and many facets of which were still stigmatized when talked openly in public. Naruto, ever the people magnet, broke the agitated atmosphere in the auditorium with a slow clap and was soon joined by many others.

The council created a Google form which allowed students to anonymously register, and they get assigned a schedule on the day their contracted psychiatrist comes to visit. All they had to do was provide their designated client number. The council further complemented this with short programs that serve as mental health breaks for the student body. Sometimes, this would be as light as a block screening of a coming-of-age film or heavy like a conference with faculty and teachers and questions and concerns are remotely flashed.

Then came Valentines’ Day, and the council organized this some kind of literary showcase that presented the opportunity to mingle woes of personal sadness and griefs with confessions that would have been left unsaid. Naruto and Sasuke both helped in constructing the makeshift stage in the middle of the soccer field that would be used later that afternoon.

“Cookie points for my crush,” Naruto grinned as he hammered away. “Thanks for picking the poem I will be reciting tonight, grumpy. Didn’t know you were into literature.” He jokingly elbowed the raven-haired beside him, and he got a death glare in return.

“Do it properly. Look at that nail sticking out like your porcupine hair,” Sasuke grumbled. “And yes, I’m not as uncultured as you are.”

“But I still don’t understand it though.”

“Ugh, just use the internet to search its meaning, idiot.”

“Meanie!”

A fellow runner peeked into their work area and knocked on wood. “Hey Uchiha. Some girl is looking for you.” Her face expressed grimace, having done this for more than five times already within the span of an hour. If it wasn’t Sasuke, it was one of Naruto’s fan girls or boys.

Sasuke went to her and fumbled around for cash in his pocket. “Next time someone looks for us, tell them we went home for the day. Here’s money for your date later. If you have anyway.”

“Whatever grumpy.” The runner replied, still half-angry, half-frustrated, but she took the money all the same and told the girls that ‘They told me to tell you they went home for the day so shoo shoo.’

Naruto laughed at Sasuke’s successful attempt at bribery. “Look at that rich money. I wonder whether Sakura will give us chocolates.”

“Have you seen their office?” Sasuke flipped open the curtains that will be hang as backdrop. “Their desk is filled with chocolates from her admirers – platonically, romantically, whatever. Some people from other schools dropped by too. You got serious competition.”

Naruto chuckled nervously. “As if I do not know that already. Haven’t you told me before- she likes everyone and everyone likes her.”

Not really true at all now, Sasuke thought to himself. But ignorance is bliss, Naruto.

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

The three sat on the grass beside the stage, having full view of the student body listening to the reciters. Throughout the program, Sakura went through each package given to her, visibly stressed with evident signs of sleepless nights under her eyes.

“Before I forget, happy Valentine’s day you two. My council-mates told me you didn’t get any chocolates,” Sakura gave each of them a pouch of small chocolate bars. Sasuke didn’t have to guess if it was store-bought or homemade based on the cuts on her fingers.

“Sakura, stop eating. I almost gagged at the seventh chocolate,” Naruto complained. He tried to get the basket of sweets from her, but she just moved it away from his reach.

“Everything tastes bitter,” she muttered under her breath. “I need sugar. My energy can’t keep up with the countless interviews. I understand that the school board liked the exposure, but the burden falls on me. At least have a teacher back me up?”

“Heard Kakashi-sensei volunteered to accompany you in interviews?” Sasuke was too late in shutting Naruto up, but the most that question got out of Sakura was an eyebrow raise.

“I need more sweets.” She proceeded to jam the rest of the Hershey’s kisses in her mouth.

“Okay, we have a submission from Uzumaki Naruto,” the announcer said. “Shout out to our rookie MVP!” A round of applause. “And who might be the recipient of this poem? We heard through the grapevine that he hid from his admirers all day. I know several people are waiting to confess to him!”

Sasuke instructed him earlier to send the poem anonymously and address it to Sakura, but the dumbass blonde mistakenly exchanged it. He rubbed his forehead in annoyance, but he can’t bring it up right now.

“Just read the poem!” Naruto shouted on the side, clearly embarrassed now. Sakura looked up at him, genuinely curious now, and her sticky chocolate-filled mouth was on the edge of firing him questions.

“Sasuke and I sent in poems! Just to support your program, nothing really too deep into it ehe.” Naruto glanced at Sasuke with slightly widened eyes. “Right, Sasuke?”

“Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare,” the person started.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,

Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

Sakura slapped Naruto on the arm. “Didn’t know you read Shakespeare! What a romantic!”

“Isn’t it a tragedy?” Sasuke remarked, a look of disgust in his face when Sakura mindlessly offered him a toblerone. “No sweets for me.”

Sakura guffawed at Sasuke’s remark, and her laughing was a rare sight recently. She was in too deep in her student council functions that they barely see her. And when they did, she’d be a little bit closer to fatigue.

“What’s funny? Who’s Shakespeare? Let me in on the joke!”

“Let’s call on Kakashi-sensei, our very own student council advisor and youngest teacher in the university. He’ll be reciting a poem by Pablo Neruda. A man of culture, we see,” the emcee announced.

Sakura stopped laughing as soon as she heard his name. If Sasuke could glean into her thoughts, she’s probably making up excuses to escape right now.

Kakashi stood in the middle of the stage, holding an open book. “Let me just ramble on here for a bit. Neruda is a Chilean poet and a politician, but just as much as he is a revolutionary, he is a romantic and a worshipper of ideals and ordinary things. He often compared his muses to earth and nature – basic providers of our existence. It’s interesting to see. Now, this poem is what I would have wanted to say to someone who is fundamentally part of my existence, but she won’t listen to me.” Kakashi smiled even more at the onset of outburst of giggles from the students. “So you’re gonna be the audience whether you want it or not.”

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,

your hands the color of a savage harvest,

hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,

I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,

the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,

I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,

hunting for you, for your hot heart,

like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

A thundering applause followed Kakashi’s poem and random shouts of, “Drop her name sensei!” “Good luck to your love life!” “Happy for you, sensei!”

As the lights went out on the stage, Sakura fished another pouch from her vest pocket, and Sasuke knew at once that it was Kakashi’s. She popped a bar into her mouth, staring blankly ahead.

“God, it’s so bitter.” Her lips started to quiver, and she started to cry.

Naruto threw a worried glance at Sasuke, but his expression must have given something away because the blonde didn’t prod, and he looked as if all the puzzles fell into place.

Sasuke just didn’t expect to be confronted about it as soon as the program finished. He was carrying blocks of wood to the shed when Naruto dropped the question – a question he already knew the answer to.

“You like Sakura.”

Sasuke inhaled sharply and halted his steps. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stacked the wood against each other and turned to face the blonde. “Besides, shouldn’t you be worrying about exams?”

“What exams? We’re exempted from it,” Naruto bristled.

Sasuke smirked. “No, you’re not. You didn’t qualify for finals.”

“Oh shit.”

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

“What do we get in return?” Sakura asked as she munched on her bento box. Shouts of the practicing dragonboat team filtered through their space.

“But last time you volunteered!” Naruto said.

“We’re friends so my services don’t come free anymore,” she chided back.

Naruto glared at Sasuke. “If she’s not gonna do it, you’re gonna do it.”

Sasuke nonchalantly shook his head as he skimmed through Naruto’s notes. “What she said.” They weren’t notes per se, but doodles of Sasuke and Sakura and interestingly, projections of different batting stances. “I’m also not gonna forgive you with the duck butt hair.”

“But you have a duck butt hair!” Naruto crossed his arms and huffed menacingly. “Ramen?”

“Same old, same old.” Sakura finished her lunch and started to sip her cranberry juice. “Give us something new.”

“Ramen and…..karaoke?”

Sakura brightened up at the prospect. “Deal.”

“At least add snacks to your place,” Sasuke interjected. “And not just ramen. Put some nuts or fruits in your fridge.”

Naruto grumbled but raised two thumbs up in defeat. “Deal.”

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

Sasuke has thin patience when it came to teaching Naruto, Sakura observed. She didn’t know how these two managed to do the supplementary math lessons when she wasn’t a part of their group yet. She didn’t mind teaching, but Naruto’s short attention span was a devil of its own. He would be attentive to her for 15 minutes and then drowse off so Sasuke and her agreed on non-negotiables.

“No ramen break for you if you don’t finish this set of problems,” Sakura told him.

“You’re demon spawns,” Naruto cried out in defiance.

“If you don’t get a passing score on this sample test, no kani toppings for you.” Sasuke raised the stakes.

“Demon spawns,” Naruto repeated.

“You won’t call us demon spawns if you see your name on the list of passers.” Sakura started the stopwatch on her phone. “Now go.”

This took her mind off things, from Kakashi’s public confession to the blank career form hidden within the pages of her history textbook. It was a good distraction until the penultimate exams day. Naruto came in with a bandana on his forehead with FIGHTING written in the middle of it. Sasuke, as usual, breezed through it, already finished by the thirty-minute mark.

And she? Well, she liked exams. The time limit and the pressure allowed her the reprieve to shut the rest of the world out so she relished answering each number until the bell rang. It was a moment where she can focus fully on the paper in front of her, the sound of her pen scribbling, and her mind working full force to cull out the answers in her memory. Her utmost concentration on questions suspended her own questions on her feelings for a teacher, on her parents’ divorce, on her future.

When the school plastered the results on the bulletin board, she couldn’t help but release a satisfied chuckle. She turned to Sasuke who was surprisingly stoic about the results. “First place! The bonus point really helped.”

“Why should I bother with a teacher’s middle name for the bonus question?” Sasuke grumbled back. “Congrats. Stop rubbing it in my face already.”

Naruto was too busy pointing his name on the board and bragging about it to the student body, most especially the freshies. When he found them on the back of the crowd, he rushed to them and placed his arms around their shoulders “Drinks on me!!!!!”

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

“He really shouted drinks on me in the middle of the school, sauntered in here like he’s loaded, and ordered two pitchers of iced tea.” Sakura kept bringing this up since they entered the karaoke room ten minutes ago.

Naruto was preoccupied with inputting song numbers on the machine to respond to Sakura’s banters. “Technically, they’re still drinks!”

Sasuke was on the phone with the kitchen, and from what she could hear, he was ordering almost everything on the menu. When he sat down on the adjacent couch, Sakura leaned forward to him. “Are you gonna finish all of that?”

He jutted his index finger to Naruto. “No, but he will.”

The first notes of Michael Jackson’s Thriller wafted through the room, and the blonde made a quick impression of the artist’s famed moonwalk.

“Why are you opening with that?” Sakura cried out in amusement. “It’s not even Halloween!” Sasuke watched Naruto try to dance with a straight face, but she thought he was itching to face palm the whole time.

Naruto kept beckoning Sakura to join him in the middle of the room, but she was busy laughing at him and taking videos. “I’ll send these to Haru as a pick-me-up. I think this is the best remedy.”

Next was Sakura’s pick – Heaven is a Place on Earth by Belinda Carlisle. She couldn’t contain her laughter in between verses when the two boys finally heard that she was tone deaf. Naruto joined her with the other mic, trying to drown out the off-key notes. By the bridge, Sasuke stood up with them, a glass of juice in his hand, and mouthed the words.

“You know this song!” Sakura said excitedly.

“I don’t live under a rock!” He yelled back amid the loud music.

“OOOH BABY DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT’S WORTH OOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH. THEY SAY IN HEAVEN, LOVE COMES FIRST. OOH HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH!”

“Okay who’s next?” she asked when the next number flashed on the screen. Sasuke silently took the mic from her and faced the monitor with a hand in his pants’ pocket.

Naruto gripped the mic harder when the song started. “I’ll be your second voice, grumpy!”

She immediately went to the front and started recording. “One for the road.”

“No videos, Haruno,” Sasuke warned.

“Come on, it’s my remembrance,” she whined. He wasn’t able to clap back when the lines started to move.

“Turn around…” Naruto sang.

“Every now and then, I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming ‘round,” Sasuke’s baritone voice filled the room like an empty coliseum.

“The fuck. You can sing?” Sakura gasped out loud. “How can you have that voice and not sing - like you know, every day?!”’

Sasuke gestured her to stop as he belted, stoic-faced, through the chorus with Naruto singing like a slaughtered pig in the background. Sakura stopped recording and joined them for the rest of the song.

Two hours and three pitchers of orange juice later, they finally settled on the couch and munched on Naruto’s leftovers of fries, buttered chicken, nachos, and calamari. On the karaoke monitor was David Bowie singing Heroes.

“Can’t believe we’re already seniors two months from now.” He stared at the ceiling, his eyes following the tag game of disco lights. “Elections of officers will be tomorrow which means Captain Haru will be formerly stepping down.”

Sasuke reached out and shook his hand. “Good luck next captain.”

Naruto immediately pulled out from his grasp. “What do you mean next captain?”

Sakura chuckled and patted his back as assurance. “Everyone knows it’ll be you. Have you seen how your teammates look at you when you’re discussing strategies?”

In the dimness of the room, she saw the flush on Naruto’s cheeks, and she found it amusing how he cannot take compliments.

Naruto scratched the back of his head. “Well, everything is possible, right? That said, I still haven’t filled out my college form, but I’m really set on getting an athletic scholarship and eventually be part of the national team! How about you grumpy? Changed your mind yet?”

“About what?” Sakura glanced at the silent raven-haired guy beside her. To be able to see this much of him was a nice privilege.

“I’m moving away after high school.” Sasuke fiddled with his half-empty glass, his eyes trained on the slushing juice. “I already sent applications to some universities in Europe.”

“We also have good medicine programs here. I don’t get why you have to move away so far. I’m so bad with converting time zones.”

Sasuke scrunched his nose in annoyance. “Are you dumb? The schools you listed are also out of this district.”

She seemed to be moving farther and farther from their exchange. Like an outsider peeking in, she understood the frailty of the moments in front of her, and by the time the next two months set in, the stopwatch would have started running its last lap. The bonds she has made so serendipitously were in danger of being cut off by dreams. She breathed in, engulfing the noise and scent of this room, panning every color and shape assembled like supercut in her head, praying that someday if she would lose herself, she’d come back here right at this frozen memory and relive the wonderful indecisiveness of adolescence and the chance to say I don’t know without repercussions.

“Sakura to earth?” Naruto’s voice.

“Idiot. It’s earth to Sakura.” Sasuke’s voice.

She blinked fast, returning to the moment that wasn’t finished playing out yet. She quickly brushed her hands on her eyes as if something got into her eyes, hoping they don’t see the small droplets of tears that have formed. “Oh uh, I have a list of prospects, but I’m not quite sure what to take.” The form was still blank actually.

“That’s a usual problem of anyone who’s too good at everything,” Sasuke replied.

“Are you complimenting me?” I wish I was.

“Should I take it back?” He proceeded to gulp down the remnants of his glass.

The monitor suddenly turned off, indicating their time has run out. “Hey guys, for our last term, let’s make the most out of it, all right?” Naruto asked. “I’m so happy we became friends.”

“No hugging please,” Sasuke said, but it was too late. Naruto’s arms were too strong to pull away from so the two allowed him a few seconds of skinship.

Naruto’s words struck a chord in Sakura; it was a resolve she tried to form and disfigure for several months now. Before they could stand up to fix their things, Sakura blurted it out loud before her courage took the best of her.

“For our last term.” She flexed her fingers and curled them up against her palm, placing weight on her lap as she ground her fists onto it. “For our last term, I’m gonna confess to Kakashi.”

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 9

#SCPS #student council president sakura #sasusaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #kakasaku #narusaku #anime fanfic #fanfic #sasusaku fanfic

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Lost In Zero Gravity (P.17)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Seventeen) Summary: Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers. Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,306 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior, drug use

Part Sixteen || Part Eighteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Tony was waiting on the couch when you walked into the apartment. He looked up at you immediately when he heard you come in. The TV was on but it was plain as day he was not watching.

“Hey,” you greeted before gesturing at yourself, “I need to shower. Obviously.” You had just gone done working out.

He got up from the couch, acting flustered, tapping a box in his hand.

That stopped you in your tracks; Tony flustered was not normal. You turned back to face him fully. “What’s wrong?”

He looked reluctant as all hell, unease swimming in his eyes. He was close now, a foot away at best, and he held the box out to you. In a quiet voice, he said, “I need you to do this.”

Confused you too the box, immediately seeing it was a pregnancy test. You gave a little laugh and held it up, “Why? I’m on birth control.”

“I need you to do it,” Tony repeated with more force behind his voice now, not answering your question. You made no move to go do as he was asking, and Tony breathed out harshly. “There was a surprise pregnancy with one of the guys – an unwanted pregnancy – and it set me on edge. Please. Just do what I’m asking. I’m a little bit on edge, yeah?”

That he was so bothered by someone else getting accidentally pregnant was confusing, but you shrugged. “Alright, fine. If it’ll relax you.”

“Thank you,” Tony sighed.

You nodded, turning on your heel and going towards the bathroom. You went in, closing the door behind you. Might as well do the test as you let the water heat up, you liked the bathroom to get a little steamy before you got in anyway. After turning the water on, you went to the toilet and set to work.

As you waited, you got fully undressed, getting your towel set up to grab easily when you were going to get out of your shower.

Picking the test back up, you looked down and saw what you expected to see. You went to the door and opened it up. You startled seeing Tony was leaning against the wall.

“Jesus,” you muttered before showing him. “You’re fine. Can I shower now?”

You saw the wave of relief wash over his features before he nodded, pushing himself away from the wall. He rubbed the back of his neck and said, “Yeah, of course.”

Leaning against the doorframe towards him, you asked, “You don’t wanna join me? You look like you’re in a cold sweat. You’ve got a change of clothes here.” A small joke at his expense.

Tony’s smirk was fleeting. He dropped his hand to his side and said, “You don’t gotta twist my arm. Forgive me if I’m not too touchy feely. Still a little rattled.”

“Other people’s mistakes aren’t yours,” you said sincerely as you walked back into the bathroom. You tossed the pregnancy test into the garbage by the toilet as he closed the door and began undressing himself. “You want me to wash you down? Relax you a bit? And maybe you won’t even have to touch me? My mouth’s been pretty empty.”

“I won’t turn that down,” Tony responded, and you smiled in response, entering the shower.

<><><>

Steve was sitting in the living room, fuming when Cecile walked back in with her bodyguard. She could immediately tell something was wrong by his demeanor and she faltered in her step, furrowing her brow. Her bodyguard read the room and left, knowing he was no longer needed but also not wanting to be involved in whatever conversation was about to happen.

Cecile recovered, walking further into the room, Steve’s eyes glued to her, leaning on his elbow, fingers across his lips. She was unnerved by his silence and piercing stare.

“Hey,” she tried, pulling her purse down and putting it on the coffee table. When he said nothing, she asked, “What’s going on?”

“Just thinking,” he said in an eerily calm voice.

“About?” she asked, shrugging slightly. She could not hide her nervousness from him.

“Is this about her?”

“No, this is about us. She’s a byproduct of us. A symptom but not the problem,” Steve snapped. “Don’t get it confused.” Cecile went to talk again but Steve held up his hand and she fell silent. He was quiet for a few moments, staring at nothing. When he spoke again, he said, “When we first met, you were… nothing like I had ever met before. I was drawn in immediately. And I fell fast. Truly. I thought, ‘I would do anything for her’. And I did. For a really long time. I would do the absolute stupidest shit for you. Thankfully, it all panned out, right?”

“Steve…” Cecile said uneasily.

He ignored her, continuing, “I’d lie if I said it didn’t bother me when I became aware of him. You are my wife. You’re mine. But, then I thought, what the hell? I was also getting ass on the side.” He paused and then exhaled heavily. “But then it became regular for you. It wasn’t one night stands or a second hit it and quit it like I was doing. No, it was becoming real.” He tapped his fingers, looking lost in thought again.

Cecile was silent, standing there uncomfortably. Steve noticed and he simpered.

“I’m making you nervous.”

“Well, no shit,” she told him, an edge to her voice.

Steve stood up from the armchair and put his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be frank. When the baby is born, I am getting a DNA test set up.” Cecile’s mouth fell open slightly and she looked like she was about to protest but Steve cut her off, “No, I’m not making this a discussion, Cecile. I will not go into this without knowing. And I will not be leaving any money to a child that’s not mine. That’s not going to happen. I will leave money to you, but I will not leave any to another man’s child.”

Cecile found her voice then, demanding, “So, what? You’re going to divorce me if it’s not yours?”

“Divorce never left my lips. What are you talking about?” Steve said, agitated. “No, I’m not divorcing you. I fucking hate how much I love you. I fucking hate that I cannot let you go completely. But what I am saying is that I will get it legally done that no money will be going to his kid. I will delegate a percentage to you and then the rest, I don’t know, will go to charities or whatever else I feel is deemed worthy.”

“So, her,” Cecile spat.

“No, not her. Trust me, Tony has that all under control on his own. And again, stop trying to deflect the conversation away from where it needs to be: centered on us.”

Cecile said tearfully, “You started this mess yourself, Steve. You said it well enough yourself just now. All your sleeping around and nights away from me. I was lonely. Do you not understand that? I couldn’t stand just sitting around and waiting for you to come back and show me you cared, even in the slightest, for me.”

“Oh, don’t give me that. The only reason I looked elsewhere is because you pulled away from me. You never wanted to engage,” Steve said, his temper rising.

“That’s not fair—”

“No! It wasn’t!” Steve shouted, losing his temper. “You pulled away the moment we got married like you had just landed your prize! You didn’t have to do backflips anymore to prove you wanted to be here. You had me by the throat.” He closed the space and said, “Well, luckily, I was smart enough to put a prenup in our marriage, which you blindly signed that paperwork.” Cecile looked mortified. “Yeah, fuck you too.” Steve leaned in and sneered, “You don’t have me by the balls like you thought you did.”

He straightened up and straightened out his collar. “So, just keep that on your mind.” He exhaled deeply and said, “I am going to go to bed. If you choose to not sleep next to me, that’s fine. I won’t hold it against you. But don’t prolong the dramatics. I can’t even begin to explain how much I don’t have the patience for it.”

Without letting her respond, he turned and walked away from her into the hall.

<><><>

You stretched, getting out of bed. It had just started to get light recently, rousing you from your sleep. Tony had kept you awake with a nightmare he was having. He had been tossing and turning, muttering in his sleep. To comfort him, you had rolled over and cuddled up next to him, hoping to convey calm. He had startled awake suddenly after a few minutes, almost catching your chin with a fist. You had recoiled and stayed still while he blinked away the sleep. When it came to to him that he was awake and you were real, he sputtered an apology and wrapped you back up into his arms. You had gone in hesitantly, but he fell back asleep, cradling you. He had stayed asleep with the contact he fell asleep with and you eventually relaxed enough to fall into sleep again yourself.

He had not gone home in days. He was just staying here. It was not normal and as little control you had over your environment, any sense of not normal was a disturbance. Especially since he had acted mere days ago about the pregnancy test.

Pattering into the kitchen, you found him at the table. It was Monday, he should be heading out the door for work. Your robe was tied loose around you and you pulled it tighter against the temperature change in the new room.

“Aren’t you going to work?” you asked, eyeing the clock and seeing it was almost 8:30am.

Tony picked up his coffee mug, shaking his head. After he took a drink, he told you, “Working from home.”

That was new. Another change that hit.

Maybe he was stressed from his dream and still needed to be calmed down. Who better to do that than you? You plucked an apple from the fridge and turned around, staring at him. It took him a couple of moments before he looked over, seeing you chewing and looking at him.

“What?” he questioned.

You said nothing, pushing yourself away from the counter to come around the island. You took another bite; his eyes were on you now, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He looked confused. You had him on edge.

His eyes were still trained on you as you placed the apple down on the table next to him before sinking to your knees. You crawled underneath the dining table, not missing the small chuckle that left Tony when he realized what you were doing. You came up to him, your hands running up from the apex at his crotch up to his hips. Foiling your plan though, Tony’s hands came down, gripping your wrists and dragging you out from under the table, in between his legs. They clenched tight, holding you in place.

“Baby, you’re being naughty,” he chastised. “I’m trying to focus and work.”

“You seem tense,” you said, sticking your bottom lip out. “I was just trying to help.”

“I have a zoom call to make.”

“You can’t handle to stay straight faced? Weak.”

“Leave it be. For now,” he said in a warning voice, his hands relaxing and leaving your wrists.

You stayed still for a moment before you started back up.

Tony’s arm lashed out, his hand closing in on your throat now as you tried to pull away, back under the table. You stilled, eyes meeting his cold hard stare. You smiled innocently, knowing damn well you had gotten under his skin.

At that moment, you heard the chime of a zoom call coming in. His eyes went to his laptop before shooting back down to you. You gulped against his hand.

“You wanna test my resolve? Weak? That was your word right?” Tony asked, his voice low.

You smirked now, running your tongue across your bottom lip. You would make him flinch if it was the death of you.

<><><>

Tony eyed Y/N making him breakfast. He was still at the apartment two days later.

“Is there something wrong with the office?” she asked him, putting a plate of egg whites and turkey bacon in front of him.

“Sounds like you are not wanting me here,” he commented as he picked up the fork.

She shrugged, “I’m just confused.”

“Who wouldn’t want to spend time with you, love?” he asked as he chewed. She rolled her eyes back at him and he smirked in response. “I’m serious.”

“You can stop laying it on so thick,” she responded, dishing her own breakfast up.

Tony smiled at her response. He had finally fucked her proper again last night since she had been back on an actual pill for a half a week. He was more confident about it then.

His phone chimed and he looked down, pulling it to him. He scowled seeing it was from Steve.

You’re not coming in again?

No. I’m working perfectly fine from here.

You can’t stay there forever, Tony. Sometime you’re going to have to relinquish some control and trust me again.

Tony ground his teeth, staring at the text. It was a challenge.

He at least made sure to finish his breakfast and give Y/N a forehead kiss before going to the bedroom to change.

<><><>

Steve smirked seeing Tony leave the building. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and waited until Tony pulled away from the curb before moving to walk across the street.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics @agustdowney @fanofalltheficsx @buttercandy16

#tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark tony stark #dark steve rogers #dark marvel #dark marvel fic #dark!tony stark #dark!steve rogers #my shit

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readerinsertfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Rain Check

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Kennyo (and an appearance of Shingen)

Prompt: I was talking to Mama ( @silhouette-of-a-dream ) about what Kennyo and Shingen would be like as roommates. This is the result of it. Modern AU!

Warnings: Academic stress, academic life, because Kennyo is a scholar-type. Getting drenched in the rain, mentions of food.

Word count: +2K

When Kennyo woke up that day he knew that it was going to rain. He could see it from the colour of the sky, but also in the way the air clung onto his skin when he opened the windows and smelled the air, humidity coming its way promising something to alleviate the sweltering heat of summer. Perhaps a morning run would do him well, to fill up his lungs with fresh air and clear his mind. It could even help him avoid the arrival of Shingen who had decided to stay out for the night again, no doubt about to return smelling like the perfume of yet another lady and some lipstick stains in his collar.

How the man managed to be prim and proper by the time the first class started was beyond Kennyo, but he had long since given up trying to figure out the mysteries of his frolicking friend. At least Shingen had the decency not to bring his conquests home, the walls of their shared apartment not thick enough to spare Kennyo from the sinful sounds his friend would produce.

It sometimes went a little beyond the man on why he had agreed again to live together with his friend. Was it because of Yukimura’s pleading that someone needed to look after Shingen’s sugar intake? Or perhaps something within the man himself still felt compelled to look after this hopeless man and his lustful lifestyle.

For now Kennyo decided that it was time to put Shingen out of his mind, not wanting to be hit with dark clouds attracted to his brooding thoughts while he was out on a run. Shoes on and fitbit ready he thus made his way out of the door, the consideration of taking an umbrella with him just barely there before dismissing it. He would shower after his run anyway, provided that Shingen wasn’t occupying it.

It occurred to Kennyo how often he thought of his friend. It earned a scowl on his face as he fit the earbuds into place, turning the music louder that would hopefully drown out his thoughts. Cursed be his friend, and darned be the decision that had ever moved him to move here. Next year he was going to move out. That he told himself, just as he had done so the year before.

Any thought of Shingen would soon be banished, however. A good ten minutes into his run the sky broke open, first a drizzle through which Kennyo persisted, not worried about a little water, before it steadily grew into a cold shower that chilled him more than that his run warmed him. By then Kennyo had reached halfway through the path he had planned to take that day, having reached just short before the forest park he usually picked for its peaceful scenery and overall serenity. Today it didn’t seem like a good idea to run between the trees, however, as somewhere up ahead he could hear the rumble, a low growl coming from above sent to the mortals below.

He hoped that Shingen got drenched. But the man had been wearing a white button-up yesterday and Kennyo could already imagine the stares he would fetch and the pride in which his friend would walk.

Damn him and everyone else for being taken by such shallow fleeting appearances.

But as stated a few paragraphs back, the thought of Shingen would soon be banished. Not because of the rain, for Kennyo had been expecting that one. Not because thunder struck him, his luck wasn’t that bad, though bad enough to live together with his best friend, but because in the distance there was a figure crouched in the rain, a figure shivering as if trying to grasp the fleeting warmth that escaped through drenched clothes.

It reminded him of Ranmaru, once upon a time, before Kennyo had interfered and entered him into the family temple to receive shelter and education there. You, however, were much older than Ranmaru and he recognised you as one of the postgraduate students from university. A different faculty, to be sure, but you had come by nonetheless, mostly to inquire on his own expertise within his field, and because Kennyo happened to be a methodology expert as well.

“You,” he called, concern coursing through him as he realised that the image was off. You were supposed to be at home, warm and safe. Judging by the time you were supposed to be hitting the snooze button on your alarm for a few more times before deciding to poison yourself with the first cup of coffee before groaning about the long day ahead and the struggle that was called the thesis.

But you weren’t and nothing in your appearance suggested to him that you were out for a run just like he was. The jump you made at the sound of his voice also suggested that you hadn’t expected anyone to notice you, or even to pass by.

“What are you doing sitting in the rain?” Kennyo’s tone had softened up after the initial call, reminding himself not to frown, for that was what usually made the students cower in his presence when asking for his opinion on their essays.

What your look meant, he couldn’t tell. Wide-eyed and surprised, a little bit too discerning as well as he could feel the way your gaze glided over his form. Perhaps it was something different from what he usually wore at university, but even he was a man with a life outside of his studies and work.

“Well?” and here Kennyo winced at his own tone, the professor within him rumbling up as if trying to ask for an explanation from a student who had missed the deadline so clearly announced in the syllabi.

The way you twitched was enough of a confirmation on how well this ‘voice’ of him worked, as another startle went through you before you quickly scrambled up, looking guilty of something that went beyond Kennyo as well.

“You should get out of the rain quickly, else you catch a cold,” the man interrupted you before an explanation could come. Kennyo didn’t need one, it was not for him to pry, though he hoped that you didn’t make a habit out of this. That it wasn’t one already.

To this you twiddle your thumbs, head lowering further as Kennyo waits for you to react or to turn around and leave. You did neither, and as the moment dragged on a sigh leaves him, an understanding falling over as the man runs a hand through his wet locks. It earns another portrubing stare from your side, startling the man in his turn as he quickly regains himself.

“You can come over to my apartment? Just to warm up. It isn’t too far away,” he tells you and this time you agree, nodding with a small and grateful smile as the two of you turn around.

Kennyo is digging through his clothes for something appropriate for you as breakfast is cooking in the background. He is still wet, and only now does he realise that the shirt he is wearing is clinging onto his form from the rain and leaves little to the imagination despite it being black. But he doesn’t care, allowing and insisting that you shower first while he handed you a new towel and set off to look for wear. It is the only time he curses Shingen in envy, for Kennyo doesn’t possess the discerning eye to tell your sizes by just a glance.

Envy soon makes place for annoyance as the familiar click of the door sounds the arrival of his friend, a sound booming through the otherwise quiet place as Shingen knows Kennyo is an early riser.

“It smells great!” he announces as Kennyo rushes himself out of his room, some pantalons and a dress shirt in hands that he had randomly grabbed. Shingen’s eyes widen at the appearance of his friend, hand already on the door handle of the shower just like Kennyo had feared as he quickly pulls his friend away.

“I’m not in the shower, you lech,” comes his admonishment and Shingen doesn’t quite recover for another moment as he keeps on staring at Kennyo and then into the direction of the shower where so clearly the sound of water running is coming from.

“Did you?” He questions after a short silence and Kennyo steps away from Shingen in disgust as he realises the man smells like perfume and lust and sin from the previous night. The insinuation isn’t lost on Kennyo, he isn’t oblivious, but he refuses to amuse his friend by pretending he understands it either as he scowls further.

“I ran into someone in need of help. Go wash up in your own room,” he tells Shingen before marching over to the shower and firmly knocks the door. It earns a pause from the other side as a quiet ‘yes?’ follows, earning another choked up look from Shingen.

“I left some dry clothes at the door,” he speaks, loud enough to be heard over the running water if it was still running before turning back to his friend, who also is drenched, the white button-up seen-through just as predicted.

“Don’t even think of it,” Kennyo warns before he turns off the fire on the stove, checking in on breakfast before deciding to leave it in the pan for a little while longer to keep it warm. “I’m going to shower first and then you can go in,” he informs Shingen briskly before turning to his room to fetch his items and his own set of dry clothes.

Shingen doesn’t say anything but smile to himself, which annoys Kennyo all the more because he knows what the man is thinking.

Thoughts he soon forgets when he meets you outside of the shower, some colour back into your face and your lips looking more naturally shaded than what it had before. The clothes he has given to you are too large, as expected, but Kennyo is relieved to find that they cover you up decently enough and reminds himself to dig up a belt for you later and a pair of socks.

“I prepared breakfast if you want, don’t give Shingen any.” The manner in which he tells you this is so gentle that you aren’t even sure to take it seriously, eyes blinking rapidly as your eyes turn to his lecherous friend already seated ready enjoying a sunny side-up that Kennyo had quickly fixed him as a compromise.

“Yo, so Kennyo decided to pick you up, huh?” Shingen is quick to point out and Kennyo would have growled out a correction if he hadn’t already shut the door and peeled off the wet clothes from his body. At least the warm water relieves him somewhat as he steps out refreshed and warmed up minutes later, fast as ever.

“This is the first time Kennyo ever brought someone home, so what’s the deal?” Kennyo can hear the interrogation Shingen is throwing you under, just as he can hear the discomfort that it brings you as you try to explain that it wasn’t anything he thinks he is. But Shingen being Shingen doesn’t pay it any heed when he knows Kennyo is within hearing distance, having timed the question perfectly with the estimated time that Kennyo needs to wash himself up.

“Can you stop that?” the man interferes instead, scowl back on his face once more before prodding the man out of his seat and pushing him away from the dinner table. “Go shower, you stink of sin. I should be rinsing you in holy water if it wasn’t to burn you instead,” Kennyo continues to frown, earning a mirthful laugh from Shingen who bids you a goodbye.

“Kennyo could stand to loosen up, maybe you can help him with that!” are the man’s last words before he is shoved into the shower where Kennyo shuts the door into Shingen’s face.

He never finds out why you were out in the rain that morning, but it isn’t the last he sees of you. Be it either because Kennyo tries to keep tabs on you despite his own busy schedule, or because you are suddenly standing in front of his office with his clothes washed and pressed in a bag.

“With a little something as a thank you,” you supply, looking much better than the day he had found you in the rain. You seem more confident, more glowing, though there is still a remnant of that guilty caught red-handed student he had seen before. It occurs to him that you could never be a student of his, for there isn’t actually much of a difference between the two of you within the academic ranks.

“Starbucks?” he questions, not remembering ever expressing a love for it, or even liking it. Quite the opposite, he recalls, remembering all of the disapproving glares he shot into the direction of Shingen who also happened to be his office-mate.

Yeah, he mentioned his luck being non-existent but not being too bad. That was because Shingen took the majority of it.

“I saw a bunch of Starbucks merchandise in your cabinet, or thought I saw such?” you question and Kennyo has to hold in the heaving sigh that is threatening to escape as he curses Shingen’s addiction to the sugary drinks there that over priced themselves.

“I’m sure he would enjoy it,” Kennyo manages to smile without scowling at the mention of Shingen. As long as he doesn’t mention the name of the fiend he is fine, or so the man has found.

“But I didn’t help you for your gratitude, it was a whim,” he continues, ready to hand back the gift as you already shot your hands up in refusal.

“I didn’t give it only out of gratitude,” you announce, and for a moment your eyes meet and Kennyo sees something that he had seen before in them. Before in that rain, when your eyes probed and lingered a bit too long for his own comfort. This time it is mixed with hope as you release a sigh of your own, as if to gather courage before meeting him in the face once more.

“I was hoping that maybe we could talk about my thesis for a bit?” The request isn’t too uncommon, after all, fellow academics had to help each other out a hand and Kennyo never turned down anyone in need of help. It was a well-known fact from all and a badly kept secret of his own faculty, but coming from you it is different.

It sounds like a promise for more. And Kenno surprisingly likes the thought of perhaps seeing more of you, if only so that he can continue to keep tabs on you. Or perhaps because a part of him is truly interested in you in the way Shingen has been teasing him relentlessly about.

“Sounds like a plan,” he finally answers, and the smile that escapes him is warm and gentle enough that it warms himself from within, as much as that it spreads out over you who returns the same smile as if reflecting a mirror.

#ikesen kennyo #ikemen sengoku kennyo #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen x reader #ikemen sengoku x reader

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singingaboutwishingx · 3 years

Text

the sam/josh/donna we DESERVED

so, as we all know, canon neither confirms nor denies the existence of a josh/sam relationship

this, of course, means it happened.

and so when sam and donna find themselves in bed together at the beginning of year four, as attractive people tend to do, this becomes a problem for both of them

because the two of them had always been pretty close

(they were both individually closer to josh but had formed a friendship in their own right. donna had been sleeping in sam’s guest room at least once a month for a year before it happened)

but anyway, this closeness was partially born out of the fact that they both had feelings for josh

sam, as josh’s ex, would have taken him back in a second, and what began as a seed of a crush for donna soon blossomed into love

it’s nice to feel things with a friend, and they didn’t do it a whole lot, but it was definitely a bonding point for them

anyway they both knew that about the other and went “oh shit” when they woke up the morning after

because like,,, their feelings for josh absolutely had not gone away, but sam’s pretty goddamn, well, pretty, and donna more or less rocked his world

so they keep it up because, hey, josh is doing... whatever he’s doing with amy gardner right now, and it’s pretty obvious that he’s not interested in either one of them for the foreseeable future

(they’re both absolutely oblivious, but they are kind of right—neither of them will get involved with josh anytime soon)

they throw a few real, outside-of-sam’s-apartment dates into the mix

it’s clear pretty quickly that this isn’t a fluke. they’d enjoyed each other’s company before, but donna very much likes sitting on sam’s lap instead of next to him at a respectable distance, and sam certainly isn’t complaining about it, either

it’s a few months before anyone significant finds out

(at this point, the only people who know are donna’s roommate and sam’s doorman)

there’s a knock on sam’s door one saturday morning as he and donna lay in bed

sam reluctantly goes to answer the door (“couldn’t i just pretend i’m not home?” he pulls her closer. “sam, what if it’s important?”)

when josh calls sam’s cell phone, sam doesn’t get a word out before josh starts “sam, come open your door. i’m outside.”

donna and sam are Very Stressed about this

it’s fine, though. as long as donna stays in the bedroom, quietly, josh doesn’t need to find out

and so sam goes to open the door, but decidedly does not invite josh in

“sam, what’s goin’ on? you got someone here or something?”

“um, yeah.”

“oh. you could have just said so.” josh’s eyes wander past sam to the coffee table. “is—is that... donna’s purse?”

sam’s eyes widen. shit.

needless to say, josh did not take it very well.

sam calls donna out of the bedroom, and the way the too-big sweatshirt she’s wearing—unmistakably sam’s—drapes over her goes straight to josh’s heart.

sam and donna sit on the couch while josh paces in front of them

“so, let me get this straight. my—my best friend, and my... other best friend are sleeping together and they didn’t tell me for months?”

josh has been rubbing his temples for so long that donna’s afraid he’ll rub his skin off

he’s not not happy for them, but donna and sam aren’t the only ones with feelings for their coworker and their ex

and that’s just kind of how it is for a while.

donna and sam don’t exactly hide, but they try their best to keep it on the down low for both press reasons and josh reasons

mostly they just order takeout and eat it on sam’s couch because neither of them really has the energy to do anything else

josh never, ever asks either one of them about it. he can’t. the less information he knows, the better.

he genuinely can’t stand it because it just doesn’t feel right to him. sam and donna? really? (no of course he doesn’t have feelings for either one of them he doesn’t he doesn’t he doesn’t)

unfortunately for sam and donna, the little routine they’ve settled into comes to a screeching halt in november, when sam pulls donna into his office and tells her he might have to move across the country because he’s running for the california 47th? why the hell didn’t you tell anyone?

and listen, cj and leo have simultaneous aneurysms, but that’s nothing compared to the way donna’s and josh’s hearts just shatter

josh doesn’t really talk to sam about it. he’s afraid he’ll just break down, and he really, really doesn’t have time to cry, especially in front of sam. he just... he can’t do it

donna doesn’t really know what to do. she and sam talk about it, of course, and decide to maybe stop seeing each other, but what does she say? “i broke up with my boyfriend”? they were hitting the stops of dating, she supposes, and they would occasionally refer to each other as their boyfriend/girlfriend in public, but really only for the benefit of others

(donna preferred the way ginger would put it, which was “donna, how’s your man?” she liked that better. “boyfriend” felt too formal, too established. she and sam were a little more casual than that, she thinks)

(and she loved him, she did, but there was something (josh) keeping her from really feeling like sam was her boyfriend)

but anyway, they leave it kind of open-ended (which is how sam ends up in donna’s hotel room when the senior staff goes to california)

smash cut to march 2007: josh and donna are a pretty established couple, and sam is two and a half months off another broken engagement

sam’s thrilled for them because, seriously, they danced around that thing for years. they deserve to be together in broad daylight.

his feelings for the both of them never really went away, but he knows they’ve both moved on

(they had not, in fact)

unsurprisingly, it’s donna who brings it up to josh

“so, we both dated sam.”

“...yeah?”

“i don’t know about you, but... now that he’s back in dc, i wouldn’t be opposed to seeing him again.”

“i... donna, are you trying to break up with me?”

“no—no, of course not. what i’m trying to ask is if you would be opposed to... seeing him with me. together.”

“oh.”

josh stares into the distance for so long that donna starts to worry

“josh?”

“sorry, yeah?”

“what do you think?”

“i don’t think... sam’s fresh off an engagement. i’m not sure he would be in the headspace for a one-time thing with two of his exes. quite frankly, i’m not sure i am, either.”

“oh, i didn’t mean a one-time thing. i was thinking more... long term. if that’s something both you and he would be into.”

josh looks back at donna, the smile on his face growing

“oh. well, yeah, i... i think i’d be into that.”

and so they set up a dinner. they ask sam to come over to their place, telling him that the three of them need to talk. it’s nothing urgent, they tell him, just a long-overdue catch-up.

(and really, it is—the transition and first two months had been too busy for the three of them to sit down, regardless)

so they have dinner, and afterward, they send sam to sit on the couch in the living room while they bring down the dishes

when they finish, donna perches on the arm of couch above sam, and josh sits next to him

she starts stroking his hair, and sam, too touch-starved to think about it, just leans into her. they’d always been platonically affectionate (and donna’s kind of like that with everyone, anyway), so he’s not particularly worried.

“sammy,” josh starts, and now sam does start to worry.

josh only ever called him “sammy” when they were dating—why bring it back now?

josh keeps going. “donna and i have been talking for a while now about making a change.”

“we both love you, you know that?” donna picks up, continuing to run her fingers through sam’s hair. “and we know you love us.”

sam still can’t figure out what’s happening for the life of him

“yeah, i know,” he says quietly. “and i do.”

josh smiles at him. “we were talking, and donna reminded me that we’ve both dated you at one point or another. and the funny thing is that neither of us really ever stopped having feelings for you.”

oh, sam thinks.

“and we were wondering,” donna says, “if you might still have feelings for us.”

sam stiffens up a little bit—he’s spent so long trying to find anyone that held a candle to either of them, and now...

donna notices. “sam, honey,” she says gently (and, god, donna calling him “honey” just does something to him), “we don’t ever want to make you feel uncomfortable. you’re our friend first. if this isn’t something you’re interested in, short-term or long term, we’ll drop it and we don’t ever have to speak about this again.”

“no,” he says, maybe a little too quickly. “i would definitely be interested. short-term, or long-term, or whatever you guys want.”

josh and donna share a grin that seems to say we got him.

donna stops stroking his hair. “i think we’re both very glad to hear that.”

sam almost can’t breathe when donna tips his head up and kisses him, and when she pulls away, he just stares at her until josh puts a hand on his cheek

when josh then leans in to kiss him, sam is pretty sure he’s died and gone to heaven.

and when they go to bed that night, donna’s head lays on sam’s chest, her arm stretched out over his body so she can hold josh’s hand, who’s curled up on his side, his face buried in sam’s shoulder.

the collective love in the room could power the entire city of washington, d.c.

needless to say, this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

bonus:

their first call is cj because, even though she’s no longer responsible for presenting their lives to the press, they know that nobody else but her would really know what to do

when they tell her, she’s silent for a second before she says “josh, i didn’t think you were the type.”

(danny passes by and sees the shit-eating grin on her face and she just mouths “later”)

josh, of course, is very offended

“i—cj—what do you mean, not the type?”

“well, sam and donna, maybe. i can see that for them, but you seem too possessive to share.”

sam and donna look at each other and burst out laughing

“cj,” donna says, “just imagine josh but with two partners to worry about.”

they all have a nice, long laugh at that (well, not josh)

“i’m breaking up with both of you. and i’m revoking your friend card, cj.”

“oh, josh,” sam says, kissing his cheek, “you love us too much for that.”

“i was only teasing, mi amor. i’m very happy for the three of you, and i really can’t say i’m surprised,” cj’s slightly staticky voice comes through the phone.

while she does advise them to keep it discreet, she tells them to just own it if it comes out.

when they hang up, the three of them feel lighter. they told someone and it went fine.

they’re going to be okay, they think.

bonus bonus:

they take turns sleeping in the middle of the bed because equality of affection is very important to them

donna absolutely loves to call them “my men” and josh and sam call her “our girl”

they love each other. they really just love each other so much.

#listen i love josh/donna #i love sam/josh #and i love donna/sam #but i LOVE sam/josh/donna #the polyamory we deserved #also consistent punctuation? never heard of her lol #ariel i hope u like this #i kind of took your sam/donna + jealous josh and just... ran with it #like grabbed and sprinted away #bianca spills the tea #the west wing #tww #josh lyman x sam seaborn x donna moss #josh lyman x sam seaborn #josh lyman x donna moss #sam seaborn x donna moss

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aceofspadegrass · 3 years

Text

Good Old Drama and Gossip

Characters: Hatter, Niragi Suguru, Morizono Aguni (Mentioned), Chishiya Shuntaro (mentioned), Last Boss (Briefly Mentioned), and me

Genre: Crack. This time it's just blind!Niragi being fussy and me stealing Aguni in the background

1.5k words

Part 3 of being a little shit to Hatter and getting away with it. But hey, at least there's the added bonus of Niragi being dramatic while being able to see nothing. A shame I didn't arm him with a cane and let him smack people.

Hatter was going to get them this time, he swears on it. It’s been more than a week since they last struck, and as far as he knew, there was not a single invasion into his Beach. He was always on alert, just in case something happened. It didn’t get in the way of his primary duty to his people, but the thought never left him to make sure everything he owned was in place.

Checking for any of the other’s stuff wasn’t anything Hatter worried about, thankfully. For some odd reason he could only interpret as ‘being too handsome and irresistible for his own good’ only his stuff was ever snatched like a cookie in the elusive cookie jar. He didn’t want to develop more stress lines making sure his men were okay in their personal possessions. Wrinkles shall only come to accentuate him, make him look good, not just tired and old.

That privilege can go to Aguni.

The man in question was at the very least rocking it, made him look fierce. Hatter could appreciate that in him, and it makes his job easier in subduing the more…. rambunctious of their group.

In fact, one of Aguni’s more problematic men, Niragi, had come back to a game with bad eye issues, even more worse than the appointed med staff could figure out. Apparently the game the oversaturated oil stain was in broke his eyes to the point where he couldn’t use them for a good while. In short, Niragi was left completely blind, and Aguni now had to deal with an increasingly whiny and temper hearty baked bean burrito. Hatter found it funny, but oh boy was it wearing out his poor fried dumpling.

It also left quite a hole in the defense for the intruders, so the issue of Aguni and Niragi was also an issue for the safety of the Beach (and Hatter’s stuff) as a whole.

No point thinking about this now. Hatter leans back on the sofa, sipping at a cold blend of juices and relaxing. His feet were killing him right about now, Hatter flexing his stiff toes and internally begging for a good pedicure to fly in through the doors and give his feet a touch of heaven and bliss.

The door in fact does fly open as the thought passes his head, Hatter sitting up and raising an eyebrow as Niragi stands there, breathing heavily. The sunglasses Hatter has so graciously offered to him in order to make him both sexier and protect his eyes from the sunlight so he didn’t permanently damage them further was slipping slightly off his face, Niragi fixing them after a few more pants.

“ You…..! You fucking coconut slut!” Niragi rasps out, and Hatter quirks his eyebrow in mild amusement, leaning forward and sipping his juice quietly as one arm rested on his knee. Niragi points a finger in Hatter’s direction, if Hatter was 45 degrees to the left and standing. “ You fucking left me tied on that bed for an hour! What fucking gives!”

Hatter says nothing, as Niragi storms in….. and immediately slams into the back of the other couch, Hatter bursting into laughter. Niragi on the other hand starts spouting obscenities and kicks the couch, and the red cocktail man notices the lack of real gun in Niragi’s possession, other than the super soaker that was substituted. Aguni probably replaced it, knowing that a blind trigger happy man was a danger to society and himself.

“ What the fuck is this bull?! What- Oh for fucks sakes this isn’t Chishiya’s room is it.” Niragi finally sputters out, grabbing the top edge of the couch and massaging the soft cushions underneath his long fingers.

“ Oh, I wish I was. Now what was this about being tied to a bed, hm?” Hatter croons, which earns him a hearty middle finger.

“ Like heck am I about to tell you. Okay, let’s try this again-“ Niragi turns around, but Hatter whistles at him, Niragi slowly spinning back around to face Hatter’s general position. “ What is it, I don’t have all day lobster man.”

“ Aww, not even a minute? Well, it’s just a question. Aren’t you supposed to be accompanied until you regain your senses? After all, you have nothing to guide your way.”

“ Fuck that, I don’t know where Last Boss went and he won’t fucking speak up if he’s just been following me like a sneaky little bitch this entire time, and Aguni was called away for something!”

“ Oh?” Hatter leans back again, Niragi throwing his arms up in the air as he starts pacing and nearly running into stuff again.

“ Yeah! So then that tiny mozzarella cheese ball came and said he’d help because I just look sad and stupid wandering around by myself, which I don’t believe because I know he’d push me into the pool the first chance he got, and then suddenly I’m tied to a bed as he puts on a podcast of nothing but some random guy talking about wool! It was hell!”

“ Oooh, I see. How bad was it?”

“ Fucking terrible! I did not need a wool lecture, thank you very little! Who the fuck wants to know the fastest record to shear a sheep was 39 seconds!? Not me, that’s for fucking sure!” Niragi rants, Hatter nodding and grinning as he switches his juice out for the good wine he kept by his foot the entire time, pouring himself a decent amount and taking a slow sip as Niragi continued to rant onwards. At some point Niragi managed to find the couch again (because he stubbed his toe into it, leading to an extra twenty seconds of Niragi cursing out Hatter’s poor couch) and sat down, Hatter pushing a wine glass into Niragi’s hand and filling it. Niragi downed it like he was a war orphan waiting for his arm to be donated to the war effort, Hatter lightly tsking him for not savouring it properly.

It wasn’t Aguni or any of the girls, but Hatter could appreciate the gossip as Niragi continued without a filter in his mouth, the rant going from Chishiya’s wool podcast to anything else Niragi had heard in his blind boredom. He was impressed how much information Niragi was willing to dole out just to get his anger settled for the rest of the day, and Hatter was happily sipping away as he absorbed it all.

Finally Niragi had calmed down, just nursing the wine glass that Hatter just filled with chocolate cereal instead, as Niragi refused to drink his wine like it was good wine. It was a shame really, Hatter liked hearing about Niragi’s auditory bubble day.

“ Well wasn’t that cathartic!” Hatter chirped as Niragi mumbled around his glass of chocolate cereal, draped over the entire couch as if he wanted to become the couch lord. Or wanting to be painted like the best model in the world, whatever he wanted.

“ Yeah yeah, whatever.” Niragi tips cereal into his mouth just as the crackle of his walkie-talkie alerts him and Hatter. Niragi doesn’t bother to remove the device from his side, too busy eating his cereal as a voice comes through.

And oh boy, what a voice it was, Hatter tuning into it immediately.

“ ….. Testing, testing! Are you hearing me? Hi hi, it’s me, your local menace~ The one with the robe, remember me? Yeah! Hi, don’t mind me, okay? I’m just gonna….. borrow Mr. Beef Stew with extra beef for a few hours! For personal, very important reasons and definitely not because I got a replica statue of a cute dog stuck in a window and now I can’t get it out. Anyways, bye!” The rest becomes static as it disconnects, Niragi snorting a little as Hatter takes one deep breath.

“ Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Niragi, hand it over to me.”

“ You’re not my boss.” “ Yes, but I’m Aguni’s, so hand it over.”

Niragi grumbles, unclipping the walkie-talkie and tossing it in Hatter’s general direction, Hatter humming and pressing the button on the side.

“ Hello? Are you still there, you rascal?” Hatter leans in, pouring as much honey into his voice to lure them out.

“… Yep, still here! Hi, didn’t think you’d be there too Hatter.” “ Oh, I’m here, and I would like to kindly know where you and your little friends are. As a little house visit~” There was a chuckle on the other end. “ Oh, sorry sorry, but I can’t. We can always come over and visit though, even if it’s for a brief moment!” “ Is that so…. Well, you wound me so, you know!” Hatter puts a hand on his chest. “ For you to not even offer me the same respect, ah it hits me right here that you can’t even trust me~”

“ Sorry! Anyways, gotta go, got things to do, got stuff to move with Aguni, who was nice enough to help us.”

“ At your base? Well, what’s stopping me from asking him for directions later for a surprise visit one of these days, maybe have a meet and greet with my beloved stolen items?”

“ Not anywhere near our base, we’re not that dumb my dear red bean paste~ Don’t worry, we’ll return your man in….. 3-5 business days maybe okay byeeeeeeeee-“ The line goes completely dead, and Hatter stares at the black box.

Those cursed beings, they’ve gone too far. Too far.

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #hatter #takeru danma #aguni morizono #niragi suguru #last boss #takatora samura #chishiya shuntaro #hatter rues the day he met us conniving thieves #at the very least he got entertainment before being bamboozled from right under his nose #blind niragi is funny because I can make him smack into things without a chaperone #niragi slow down you're slurping too fast-#you can't go anywhere anyways without potentially running into issues #now how did chishiya manage to distract niragi long enough to tie him down? who knows

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meaningofmischief · 3 years

Text

Evil, Lying Scourge

Set immediately after the battle in the Timekeepers’ chamber. Loki and Renslayer go toe-to-toe as Loki creates the ultimately confronting conditions to force the truth of Sylvie’s Nexus Event from Renslayer.

The truth is devastating - can Loki and Sylvie survive it?

Loki and Sylvie were traumatized - that was near the only way to put it.

Hours ago they had resigned themselves to die together on an exploding moon.

They had been forcibly yanked into the clutches of the TVA at the last possible minute, restrained, separated, each subject to individual psychological tortures as all their remaining tatters of stability and freedom and friendship were ripped away from them one by one. Both prepared to meet their ends together again, and now even their impossible escape was ice cold comfort as they both examined in horror the head of the mindless android they had taken to be one of the three all-powerful Timekeepers.

Not to mention the barely suppressed passion each felt for the other that roiled away like a wildfire between them - burning both the longer it went unacknowledged.

‘Then who,’ Loki’s voice broke for stress, ‘created the TVA?’. Sylvie felt choked by a sudden rage. Hurling the head of the android viciously across the floor of the chamber, she spat: ‘I thought this was it.’ They both had, of course.

A low moan startled them and they whipped around, mirrors of defense for the next attack, but the despised Ravonna Renslayer still lay passed out cold from the hefty blow Sylvie had dealt her not a minute before.

B-15, the undisputed saviour of the pair of them, had finally regained consciousness after the massive strike to the head she had received at the hands of one of the Timekeepers’ specialist defense team. They had not treated her mercifully while she was down either, delivering unnecessarily cruel, wounding kicks to the woman they saw as the traitor in their midst.

Sylvie reacted as if by instinct and rushed straight to B-15’s side, running practiced hands down the Hunter’s limbs to assess for fractures or broken bones. Loki could only marvel - for all her uncompromising toughness, Sylvie’s unconscious impulse was to compassion, a quality that he found at times miserably difficult to access, which frustrated him to no end, especially when he considered how yet more painful Sylvie’s past had been to his own.

‘Nothing broken.’ Sylvie’s soft reassurance to B-15 snapped Loki out of his reverie. ‘But those arseholes didn’t go easy on you by any means. Do you think you can walk?’ There was a flash of fire in the resilient Hunter’s eyes and she opened her mouth to deliver a stinging retort before Sylvie broke out into a warm smile and there was a brief moment of kinship between these two fearsome warriors.

‘Still,’ continued Sylvie bluntly, ‘I’m not having you risk your life to save us only to pass out in one of these obscure corridors where no-one’ll find you for the next week. I’m gonna see you to the infirmary and you can’t stop me.’ She was busy helping B-15 struggle painfully to her feet when Loki murmured, gravelly, ‘Sylvie. Is that wise?’

Sylvie glowered. Whatever difficult feelings she had for this man, he was not about to tell her what to do. Luckily B-15 interceded, voice tight with pain, but determined nonetheless: ‘I know how we can do this. Variant -’, she checked herself, ‘L-Loki. Take out Ravonna’s Tempad from her jacket.’

Loki’s skin crawled but he nevertheless did as she commanded, crouching down to where Ravonna still lay knocked out, reaching inside her jacket to retrieve the rectangular Tempad, surprisingly heavy in his palm. He handed it uncertainly to B-15 who snapped it open and began pressing buttons with a confident ease that seemed to indicate she knew exactly what she was doing. ‘There,’ she said smugly after 30 seconds or so, ‘the warrant for my capture has been deleted. And don’t worry,’ her gaze flitted over to Loki and in that brief glance Loki knew that B-15 had perceptively ascertained the depth of his attachment to Sylvie, ‘nothing is going to happen to that Variant on my watch. The store cupboard for this unit is right next to the infirmary, so we’ll get her a uniform to act as a disguise on the way back.’ B-15’s eyes narrowed, and Loki knew she was fighting hard what must be a tremendous amount of pain. She handed the Tempad back to Loki and he felt incredibly humbled by the action. Sylvie helped her very gently to the elevator door. ‘Promise me,’ B-15 whispered through gritted teeth as she turned to face Loki one last time, ‘that you’ll bring this place to the ground.’ Loki nodded once, slow and solemn - forcing himself to believe that such a thing was possible when so much lay still unknown. He and Sylvie locked gazes, and Loki longed to cross to the elevator doors in a handful of strides, hold her so close to him, take her face in his hands… Stop. He forced himself to focus right now, for all of their sakes. He only held her gaze as the elevator doors closed, and then they were gone.

Loki exhaled, and it came out mostly as a sob. He closed his eyes to withhold the tears which he felt welling in their sea-green depths. He had held himself together all this while for Sylvie, but now, standing alone in the cold, misty chamber - he felt assaulted by uncertainty and fear. And sorrow. He so wished for Mobius, for his friend, who was always so grounded and strong - a master of strategy. Loki’s gift for style and verbal artistry were rendered useless in a situation such as this and he felt utterly incompetent and broken.

‘You can be whatever - whoever - you wanna be. Even someone good. I mean just in case anyone ever told you different.’

Loki’s eyes snapped open, shining with salt water and yet never so determined as now.

No.

He had the ability to stand up and make his own choices, and that started now. Not his first act of defiance against whatever cruel authority had created this suffocating institution of control, and certainly not his last.

He knew what he needed to do, and he needed to do it for Sylvie - while he had this rapidly diminishing window and before they set about trying to achieve the impossible in burning this place to the ground.

And before he told her that he loved her.

Loki stooped and grimly retrieved his Time Collar where it lay on the floor after B-15 had freed him of it. He was going to need it, unfortunately. He opened the Tempad and after a short while as he got to grips with its functions, a Time Door with a subtle magenta sheen opened up next to him.

Panicked breathing behind him.

Good, she was awake.

Loki wasted no time, seizing Renslayer none too gently by the lapel of her jacket. She foggily tried to resist him, but before her blurry vision had even cleared, she felt the Time Collar wrap constrictingly around her neck, felt Loki haul her to her feet and unceremoniously push her through the Time Door ahead of him.

The Asgardian bedchamber was light and airy and warm - a stark contrast to the cool, damp darkness of the place they had emerged from. Loki looked around briefly, instantly wistful, recognising the arch of the ceiling, the pristine white marble floor, even smelling the heady summer scents of his old home. It made his heart ache even more - if that was possible at this stage. He was quickly distracted, however, by Ravonna’s wild sprint away from his side. She had regained her full mental capacity now, but was seized by terror at the situation - at the mercy of the Variant and whatever tortures he could concuct for her.

Loki fiercely loathed to play the jailor - even to someone as worthy of harsh treatment as Renslayer - but he needed her attention. He turned the dial of the Time Twister and in an instant Renslayer was back at his side. Though the logical part of Ravonna’s brain knew it was fruitless, she tried to break away from him several more times, just as Loki had tried upon his capture. Eventually Loki seized her by the arm and made her turn to look at the scene before them.

Throughout the chaos the little girl seated on the floor had payed them no heed. Not that she could. This was what the TVA quaintly referred to as an ‘Observant Loop Cell’ - of course obnoxiously abbreviated to OLC. An OLC was designed not to punish prisoners into submission but rather to force them to reflect on situations they had experienced - made to watch those situations over and over and unable to help, hinder or manipulate any of the figures within it.

Loki himself had had no idea what to expect when he had found Variant L1129’s file on Renslayer’s Tempad, and created an OLC of the Variant’s apprehension. He had briefly had a vision of the young, out-of-control Goddess of Mischief, terrorizing Asgard - effecting pain and suffering, destruction and death so devastating that there was no choice but to send up a smoke flare, a Nexus Event. It did not fit in the slightest with what he perceived of Sylvie’s true character, but he could think of no other reasonable explanation. He did certainly not expect this angelic child, playing as any child would, with her toys. Loki felt a pang of unhappiness as he remembered his own childhood days, he never could play nicely. It was all borne of resentment and jealousy: Father would always ensure Thor had the most luxurious selection of toys, and he was anyway keen that both of his sons stopped messing around with playthings as early as possible and go out for battle training with the young sons of Asgardian nobility instead. Where Thor thrived in the competitive, loud environment of the training ground, Loki shrank into himself. Self-conscious, anxious, lacking the warrior’s bulk that all the other boys seemed to possess, the young prince found himself more often than not in a corner with a few books and some of the toys his father scorned - to make up his own stories in his own time. The other boys mocked him endlessly, tore pages out of the books, stole the miniature figurines of Valkyrie and other great warriors. Loki had eventually learned to be as harsh and cruel as they - only his power to hurt came from his intelligence rather than brawn.

This little girl was anything but harsh and cruel, hurt and isolated. Yes, she was alone, but she seemed to relish that independence - making her own stories up in her own time. ‘Dragon swoops towards the palace, but Valkyrie flies over, defeats the dragon and saves Asgard!’ she crowed, face alit at the conclusion of what had evidently been an epic story. Loki couldn’t suppress a small smile, though he knew that any moment there must be some great catastrophe which would set off the Nexus Event. Ravonna seemed to have frozen at his side - both were caught up in their individual perception of the events unfolding before their eyes.

When the golden Time Door opened mere seconds later, Loki gasped in disbelief, gaze flitting around the room and then back to Sylvie as he tried to ascertain what could have caused the Nexus and finding no evidence at all. Ravonna stiffened next to him as they both saw none other than Ravonna Renslayer - or more precisely Hunter A-20 - in clear command of the two Minutemen flanking her, hold out her Tempad before her and certify in a cold, triumphant voice: ‘There’s our variant.’ Sylvie’s eyes were huge and frightened as Renslayer continued without pause: ‘On the authority of the Timekeepers, I hereby arrest you for crimes against the sacred timeline’, as though she were addressing some notorious criminal and not a terrified little girl.

‘Where’s the Nexus?!’ Loki thought, increasingly desperate and distressed as the OLC Renslayer seized Sylvie by her skinny arm and wrenched her towards the Time Door. It all happened very quickly then. The Minutemen set their Reset Charge which immediately began its task of disintegrating Sylvie’s possessions - anything and everything that indicated that she had ever been in this room. Sylvie screamed, high-pitched, shaking in Renslayer’s grasp: ‘Wait!!!’. Loki resisted the urge to run to her aid, knowing it would be completely useless. Then Sylvie and Renslayer gone, followed by the Minutemen, the Time Door snapped shut and Loki and his Renslayer stood facing one another in a deafening silence in the handful of seconds of respite prisoners would receive before the loop started again.

Tears were clouding Loki’s vision, but he blinked them away angrily. ‘Why?’ was the only thing he said - in a voice several octaves below his usual speaking voice. Renslayer shook her head and pressed her lips together, though her chest heaved at the fraught situation. Loki growled softly and resisted the urge to hurt her - to make her talk.

No.

That was what he would have done in the past, he would not descend to such base measures now.

He didn’t need to, the loop was already starting again. Loki felt as though his heart would fairly break in two as he watched the young Sylvie skip into her bedroom, arms full of her toys, setting them out, beginning to play. ‘You’re going,’ he spat at Renslayer ‘to stand here with me and watch this as many times as it takes for you to tell me what the Nexus event was that made you rip an innocent young girl’s life away from her and force her on the run for her entire life. I don’t care how long it takes. You’re going to tell me.’

In reality that wasn’t exactly true - Sylvie and B-15 had almost certainly reached the infirmary by now and if Sylvie made it back to the Timekeepers’ chamber to find it empty, to think that she had been abandoned by her one companion (and perhaps more than that) in the universe… It nearly had Loki sending them both back to the TVA instantly. But Renslayer was breaking already, he could see it, as he forced her to watch the abject cruelty, cruelty at her hands, again and again. By the third viewing, Renslayer’s eyes brimmed with tears and Loki would gladly have wept openly. By the fifth, she started to hyperventilate, made to move away. Loki turned the Time Twister’s dial and she was jarred back into place. On the sixth viewing, just as the OLC Renslayer was about to seize Sylvie, she abruptly screamed: ‘Enough! I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you.’

Both breathed out in relief, when Loki pressed the button on the Tempad that cut the loop and everyone in the scene disintegrated immediately. He turned to face her and forced out between his teeth: ‘Do not try to lie to the God of Mischief. You have no idea how acutely I am attuned to falsehoods. You will tell me in every horrifying detail about this Nexus Event, or I will leave you in this Time Cell and bury this Tempad in the deepest crevice of the TVA where no one will ever, ever find it. Now TELL ME.’

Renslayer took a deep breath to steady herself, closed her eyes and spoke with a surprisingly steady voice: ‘The Variant was deviating from her role on the Sacred Timeline.’ Loki snarled: ‘Obviously! What was the deviation?’. Renslayer opened her eyes and locked her chocolate brown eyes with his green ones. ‘A Loki,’ she said, slowly, as though choosing her words carefully, ‘does not get to travel the kind of path that that Variant was on.’ Loki rushed to intercede, but Renslayer narrowed her eyes, warning him not to interrupt her.

‘It was a mistake that she ever got as far as she did. Our technology advances every day - it’s now so accurate that we can nip burgeoning Nexus events like this one in the bud.’ Loki was amazed that she could speak in such clinical terms about the organisation that had only very recently been revealed to have three mindless robots as its figureheads. But Renslayer’s voice ran with conviction which only strengthened as she continued: ‘Lokis are so very tricky. It’s an incredible rarity that any being is allowed so much leeway as they have been, and we have all had to suffer the consequences of that. You see, due to your natures as shapeshifters, this Variant being born the Goddess rather than the God of Mischief was no cause for a Nexus flare. But of course in the archaic society that you are raised in, the ridiculous difference in gender is of massive significance. Recall that only male heirs are permitted to succeed the throne of Asgard. In your case, informing you of your adoption would have caused colossal problems for King Odin - that would have had ramifications across Asgard, not to mention potential rebellion from you yourself. Odin was under no illusions of how much more intelligent you were than his legitimate son, and how that would have fused with the arrogance of princehood to create the ultimate cuckoo within the sparrow’s nest - an utterly unacceptable scenario. Far better to keep that knowledge from you, even if it did mean that you grew up confused and resentful - emotions Odin could easily ignore. Far better to have you treated as the bastard son, who he would insidiously try to manipulate to his own ideals, who might possibly one, highly unlikely day, be fit for the throne should Thor be killed in battle before his heir was old enough to succeed the throne.’

‘Of course, for a girl, Odin had no such concerns. He took the child from Jotunheim out of some scrap of pity, and because she could prove useful in negotiating with the Jotuns at a later date. A princess had no chance of succeeding the throne, not to mention an illegitimate one, who would likely be married off to some lowborn noble as soon as she had come of age. So Odin told the Variant of her adoption. And somehow, ludicrously, that knowledge failed to break the Variant, it only made her stronger. She took pride in her differences from her family and the rest of Asgard, her inclination to independence rather than company, her delight of mischief. Where she should have been enraged, embittered and vengeful, she was courageous, compassionate and creative.’

‘Excuse me,’ Loki hissed, interrupting Renslayer’s monologue, ‘where she SHOULD have been?’. Despite the fact that she had found herself at his mercy, Renslayer sneered at him. ‘Of course-’ she continued, seeming to try to gain the upper hand over him with the knowledge she was revealing, ‘a Loki is an evil, lying scourge, like you. Where would be the heroes of the Timeline without the villains? That Variant had a role to play, same as you, same as all of us, and she went off the path. Whoever heard of a heroic Goddess of Mischief?’. Ravonna’s voice cracked slightly on the last sentence as she bore witness to Loki’s murderous expression. ‘So what you’re saying,’ he replied with devastating calm ‘is that Sylvie lost her home, her family, her life, because she would one day grow up to be kind and just, to be her own person? Oh, no one is truly good or truly bad, but the TVA decrees that not to be so.’ His voice grew more intense and Renslayer shrank before him. ‘Because whatever devil puppetmaster is controlling the TVA, they like to have their play made interesting - with villains to cause destruction and heroes to save the day?’. Renslayer was at a loss for words, but Loki had heard enough. He pressed a button on the Time Twister he held and Ravonna sank ungraciously to the floor, unconscious once more. One of the functions the delightful Twister could enact was to reverse the prisoner’s physiological state - mainly meant for various exotic creatures the TVA brought in, that could effect all sorts of trouble as a result of their innate biology, but in this case merely necessary to give Loki a moment to take in what he had just experienced. He couldn’t quite do it.

Only concern for Sylvie forced Loki to action, and he opened up the door back to the Timekeepers’ chamber using the Tempad, dragging the unconscious Ravonna back through with him. Despite what he had said, he would never consign anyone to spend their life trapped in one of the hideous Time Cells. He removed her Time Collar too, and flung it to a far corner of the chamber, repulsed that it had had to come to him using one of the TVA’s disgusting methods of control to get the information he needed.

His thoughts left Renslayer entirely behind as the elevator doors opened and Sylvie emerged not a moment too soon, yanking off the breastplate and trousers of the TVA Minutemen she had worn as a disguise over her usual black top and trousers. Now that Sylvie’s purpose had been achieved, she too seemed utterly spent as she staggered over to where Loki stood staring at her. Both failed to speak for several moments and then Loki rasped, with a voice that sounded unused for days, ‘Sylvie. Sylvie, I need to tell you something.’

Sylvie’s deep blue eyes widened, her heart began to pound like a wild drum in her chest. ‘What?’ she could only say as Loki struggled to find the words for what he had just learned.

When it was over, they both started to cry.

Loki and Sylvie had never been ones for excessive, histrionic displays of emotion. They had had to armour themselves in toughness and charm and mischief and wit all their lives despite the turbulence that roared inside of them.

And now here the both of them stood, silent but for the ragged intake of breath as they struggled to bring themselves under some semblance of control.

Eventually they stopped. Each observed the other’s tear-streaked face.

‘Sylvie...’ Loki said again. The word seemed to ground him and her at the same time.

‘Not another pep talk please.’ Sylvie uttered with a weak attempt at humour, that fell flat instantly with the sheer desperation in her tone.

‘No. I have to tell you something else.’

Sylvie wasn’t sure that she could handle anything else.

Loki stepped closer to her, and avoided her gaze, his breathing picking up again.

Sylvie felt herself instinctively mirroring him, and forced herself to focus.

Loki looked her in the eyes.

‘We will figure this out.’

It really was too much.

‘How do you know that?’ How was there any certainty about anything anymore?

‘Because, uh -’ Loki’s near-gasping for air cut him off and he twisted his sweaty hands together.

‘Well, back on Lamentis…’ It was all too impossible to explain. Loki gestured helplessly, trying to find the beginnings of some clever story that had never failed to come to him with infinite ease before and now completely failed him.

He gave up. His arms dropped to his sides.

‘This is new for me. Um -’ Loki’s heart raced in his chest and the sound seemed amplified, obliterating his thoughts. They were a tangle of grief and passion and...and love - a tangle that was impossible to reconcile.

Loki turned his hands towards his heart, as though it could speak for him.

‘What?’ Sylvie breathed, hardly daring to speak, her own heart pulsing just as intensely.

They would figure this out. They would. Some very deep and very soulful part in both of them, inextricably linking one to the other, knew it. Loki clasped her upper arms, barely believing himself.

I love you Sylvie. Sylvie I love you. Sylvie I will always love you - you beautiful spirit of mischief. Sylvie, we are free and we will figure this out. I love you Sylvie, I love you.

‘If it were now to die, ‘twere now to be most happy.’ thought Loki, even as he felt the icy touch of Ravonna Renslayer’s weapon seize his heart and rip its chill through his body, as Sylvie watched him disintegrate right before her eyes which never left his - as he was transported to some realm of chaos where the God of Mischief would navigate the labyrinth back to his Goddess so that he could speak those words unsung softly in her ear before bending down to her lips and watching the TVA burn.

- Inspired by a fantastic suggestion from asgardian1112! More suggestions for future stories gladly welcome!

#loki #lokiseries #sylki #sylvie x loki #sylvie laufeydottir

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