#first and second chapters are so old too tbh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pers1st · 2 months

Text

JUST A SPARK... PROLOGUE - leah williamson

it's never quite as it seems

warnings: death, grief, this is pretty angst tbh

master list / next chapter

It rained again. Ever since you had moved to England, the weather seemed to taunt you for leaving the country you actually considered to be your home. Your nonna, your mamma, and even your Dad stayed behind in Italy, and just like that, every dream of what England should’ve been was crushed between your tight fists. It rained. Every single day that you had lived in England, it rained. Today was the tiniest bit better than what yesterday’s clouds had provided. Instead of furious down-pouring that almost silenced your every thought and made the pitches impossible to train on, the water was splashing from the sky rhythmically, staining your windows as it peacefully dropped.

You were sitting on your couch, a mug of tea in your hand that you found oddly comically typically English, watching as the weather let you down once again. You missed Italy then, more than you usually did. Dreams of your summers spent in Tuscany, sitting on the terrace with your friends, sipping on a pearly white wine as the birds breezed past you cascaded in your mind as you stared out of the large, rain-stained window of your living room. Reaching for your phone, you huffed, realizing the closest you could come to being back home was a phone call. Although it wouldn’t be enough, it would certainly have to do.

The first sign that something was wrong was the way the ringing of your phone wouldn’t stop for far too long. There was very little time difference from England to Italy, and if it was an hour earlier, you would have believed your parents would’ve laid down for their daily nap, but it was almost six in the evening and there was no way they weren’t awake right now. When the call was finally picked up, the second sign hit you like a truck. Instead of your mamma’s sweet voice, you could hear a total mess unfolding, a sob ringing through the line, a dish being thrown to the floor.

“Mamma? Mamma, cosa non va?” (What’s wrong?), you asked, panic striking your tone as you sat up, gently disposing the mug of tea to the very edge 0f your couch table.

“Mamma?”, you repeated as any clue of what was going on was still withheld from you.

“Morto. É morto” (Dead. He’s dead), your mother cried, and at once, the oddly comically typically empty English mug fell to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.

The flight back to Italy was painfully silent. You didn’t allow yourself to listen to music, too scared to listen to anything just in case you forgot your father’s voice. Your train of thoughts was absolute nonsense, to put it into harsher words, but it didn’t matter to you.

After speaking to both Emma Hayes and other officials of the club, most of whom you had never met, you had voiced the will of your mother to be buried in Italy rather than in London, where he had been born, and had taken the next flight out to your home country, ignoring the protests of men who had never truly known your father, claiming they wanted to come with you. You knew, however, that your father wished for more. The legacy he held at Chelsea wasn’t unknown, but you knew that none of the men in suits had ever mattered to him, and that none of them would have known him truly. It was quite ironic- the fact that you were defaming the very club that had raised not only you but your father as well, and that he had only left behind once you had been old enough to live on your own, and watched as your family moved back into the country you so desperately longed for.

Being back, now, felt like a slap to the face. Your mamma was still inconsolable, although your nonna tried her best to pick the broken pieces from the floor and hold them together just to take another weight off your shoulders. No twenty-three year old should watch as their father was buried, but life was not fair and you had no way to deal with it other than to just deal with it. Silent tears crept down your cheeks as you listened to Father Marcus tell anecdotes of your father’s life, and of his career, and you wondered whether he would’ve liked to be buried nearer to his own home. Italy had always been your mamma’s, but after witnessing the agonizing love between your parents for a time that felt far too short now, you figured that he would want to be wherever she was. The cemetery was only a five-minute walk from your parents’ casa, but it was a three hour flight from your flat.

Still, the walk felt painfully long as you followed most of your parents’ friends to your childhood home, and rain began to softly splatter from the sky as you trotted among the crowd. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t fight it, rather grateful that anyone was unable to tell whether your cheeks were wet with the rain or stained by your tears. You wondered whether this was your Dad telling you to get your act together. It certainly seemed like something he would do, and the thought put the faintest of smiles on your lips. Afraid to seem like a mad woman to the rest of the grieving crowd, you slipped past Father Marcus, away from the procession, as you fiddled your phone out of the pocket of your coat, watching as rain wet the screen.

Another smile crept up on your face at the multiple messages you had received over just the past few hours you had neglected your phone.

Most of your Chelsea teammates were sending you their wishes, along with Emma, but what interested you most was a missed call from an unknown number. An unknown English number.

Silently, you glanced towards the front of the procession, seeing they had almost reached their destination as you found your mamma at the very front, weeping in your nonna’s arms. You should be there, right now, with her, but you simply couldn’t.

Instead, you reached to call the number back. The other line picked up surprisingly fast.

“Hello, Y/N. I was hoping you would call me back. I hope it’s an okay time for you”, a woman on the other line spoke. Furrowing your eyebrows, you nodded, forgetting that whoever it was couldn’t see your movements.

“Oh, sí. Yes, it’s a perfect time, actually?”

“Really? Because I was informed by your club that you were… back in Italy. For…”, the woman trailed away, and you exhaled shakily.

“No, no, it’s okay. I just saw your call, so…”, you tapped your foot against the wet pavement rhythmically, eager to know who you were speaking to.

“Well, it’s Sarina Wiegman here, I’m sorry. I should’ve started with that. Anyways, I was wondering whether you would be interested to join the Lionesses for the Arnold Clark Cup, this year. I know of your circumstances right now, so I don’t need an answer right away.”

You let out a shaky exhale at her words. You had always thought about playing for England, as you had joined both their youth teams as well as Italy’s, while you had still played in the country. They had offered you a place in their senior team far earlier than England had, and although you couldn’t have been sure whether England would ever offer, you had always held out for something. For what, you didn’t know. Although now, it suddenly seemed to make sense.

Your father had played for England, had even captained his country for a short while, and although you had always dreamed of playing for Italy when you were younger, infatuated with their men’s team’s success, much to your father’s dismay, you had not agreed yet. The reason only came to you now. And suddenly, it was so painfully clear.

“Yes, yes. I would really like that”, you smiled to yourself, glancing up at the cloudy sky to clear your teary vision. It didn’t help in the slightest.

“Great! The call-up will be published tomorrow, we’ll send you all the details in an email. I look forward to seeing you in camp!”, your manager cheered, and although it tasted bitter-sweetly in your mouth, you voiced your excitement as well before hanging up the call.

You would play for your father’s country, if all went to plan. You would finally step into his footsteps. You would continue his legacy, whether you really wanted to or not.

#woso community #woso #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #leah williamson oneshot #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal #chelsea women #chelsea fc #chelsea wfc

293 notes · View notes

eggyrocks · 1 month

Text

bloody nose: kuroo x calloused hands reader

calloused hands masterlist // main masterlist

warnings: violence, blood, swearing; grammatical errors, not proofread, i wrote this just for me so it's probably not great

an: here it is. my self indulgent bonus chapter that’s got my fingers itching. i wanted to write this so fucking bad i genuinely do not even care if it’s good tbh; im sure if you wanted to read this without reading all of calloused hands u could but it’s probably better in context

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧

their set's not going well.

it might have something to do with the venue; it's a small, cramped basement bar with only one way out and one way in-the old and creaking staircase that looks like it's one bad day away from collapsing. it might be the fact that the bouncer's stopped counting heads and the bar's way over capacity. could be the hot humid air that's suffocating them and only getting worse with each person that claws their way towards the band.

but it's probably the heckler.

yn's generally not really bothered by that sort of thing. it's not like this is the first one she's ever dealt with; normally she'll just play over them until they learn their lesson and keep their mouths shut during their sets.

but the bar's fucking tiny and so ungodly packed and hot it's making her just a bit more irritable than usual. every couple of minutes there's some sweaty dude from the pit getting knocked into her and knocking her hand off her guitar, throwing her off and making her fuck up. it's irritating. it's frustrating. she knows her bandmates are getting fucking sick of it too. tanaka's broken more drum sticks than usual.

so when the heckler starts up again, she doesn't really have any self-restraint.

"you guys fucking suck!" comes his voice, ripping through the crowd in between songs.

yn leans up close to the mic until her lips are ghosting over the cool metal. "uhh, suck my dick," she murmurs into the mic, hearing it echo throughout the small space.

she ignores the crowd's reactions and leans back on her heels to make eye contact with yachi. yachi, who, like yn, got so sick of the heat and had to abandon her outer layer of clothes in favor of her sports bra. just one look at her sweat-soaked friend and yn can tell she is just as miserable as she is.

"heckling us won't make us play better," nishinoya says into his own mic, "we're going to suck no matter what you say."

"why doesn't your guitar player suck my dick!"

the reaction is half boos and half laughter, and yn does her best not to react the way she wants to. she just fiddles with her guitar while nishinoya lets out a string of curses and threats into the mic. he kepts it short, though, they've got a show to get on with.

yn wishes she could spot kuroo. she knows he's out there somewhere in the crowd; she keeps hoping to catch a glimpse of his distinctive silhouette-just seeing him there would help her calm down. just a bit.

kuroo's good at making things better for her. he always does it, even when he's not trying.

but all she can see over the lights that shine in her eyes is a shapeless mass of huddled bodies, indistinguishable and formless. she can't pick out kuroo. she can't see his face and she can't calm down.

"this next song's called rot," nishinoya anounces, and ignores the glare yn shoots him. he's fucking around with their setlist again. "it's about dying and getting eating by worms."

tanaka counts them in, and yn tries to focus all of her energy on playing. she's hoping to take her frustrations out on her guitar; and either way, she always plays great when she's in a bad mood.

but they're not even half-way through the first verse when yn notices something whipping over the heads of the audience. in a fraction of a second, she realizes it's a beer can. sixteen ounces.

and then, the next second, it's hitting her in the temple.

her hand leaves her instrument and flies to cup the spot she got hit. the beer can hits the floor and it's spraying sudsy, warm alcohol all over her. she crouches down in pain, trying to blink away the hot, thick liquid that now drips down into her eye.

there's a hand on her shoulder, and the sweet words of concern in her ear confirm that it's yachi. yn tries to stand up straight, despite the dizzying pain radiating in her skull, and tries to get a look at what's happening in front of her.

strangers are trying to crowd her, to get close to offer help or see if she's okay or just get a better look at exactly what happened. nishinoya is pushing people away, telling them to back the fuck up, now. tanaka's grabbing yn by the shoulder and trying to keep her steady. yachi's pressing one of their discarded tshirts against yn's forehead, trying to slow the bleeding.

and there's a familiar outline of bedhead, stomping up the stairs of the bar, dragging a protesting body behind him.

haphazardly, yn rips wires out of her guitar and shoves herself forward, elbowing her away through the swarms of people, leaving behind her bandmates, bloodied tshirt, and still fizzing can of beer.

once she climbs up the stairs and out of that basement, the cool air is on her skin, on sweat, on the beer-soaked clothes she's left in, and she's suddenly freezing.

but she doesn't really focus on that. yn just stands there and stares as kuroo, her beautiful kuroo, holds the heckler up by his collar, sneering at him. "what the fuck is wrong with you?" he screams into the trembling face of the other man. "you could've killed her!"

"it wasn't supposed to hit her!" he insists, and suddenly does not have the smug edge to his voice he did when he was telling yn to suck his dick. "it was an accident, dude!"

yachi appears at yn's side then, mouth open like she's about to ask if yn's okay, but she stops at the scene before her, just taking yn's hand in hers.

kuroo's grip on his collar is tight, and if the bruising on his knuckles or the bleeding of the heckler's mouth are any indication, he may have already gotten a hit in. he doesn't look away from the man in his grip. "yn, are you bleeding?"

she squeezes yachi's hand. "yeah," is her casual answer. she winces, blood sill trickling down her face, and the pain in her head still throbs.

"kiyoko's looking for something to stop the bleeding," yachi tells him, a nervous tremor. "tanaka's getting the van so he can drive her to the hospital-she's gonna need stiches."

kuroo lets him go, then. dropping him so quickly that the heckler only just gets his bearings before kuroo is pulling his fist back and then slamming it into the nose of the heckler. there's a pleasant crunch. yn tries to appreciate the sight of it, but she's just getting so damn lightheaded.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧

by the time they get out of the hospital, the sun has started rising. kuroo's driving the band's van with one hand on the wheel and the other gripping onto his girlfriend's thigh.

her bandmates, who insisted on staying with them the whole night, are now sleeping in the back, and their not soft and not gentle snores are fill the van.

yn looks over at kuroo and grins. she reaches towards him and gently carsses the cut that stretches across his nose. "you got battle scars now. can't believe you headbutted that guy."

he scoffs. keeping his palm flat on the wheel, he stretches out his fingers and examines the the scabbing over his knuckles. "my hands were starting to hurt and i need them for volleyball. i was running out of options."

"it was really hot, by the way," she tells him, teeth poking through broad smile. kuroo flicks his eyes away from the road for just a second to see it. "you were all bloody and sweaty like, 'oh, i'm gonna fucking kill you that's my girlfriend,'" she says, in a poorly done imitation of kuroo.

he laughs. "im just glad you're okay. if you had gotten a concussion i would've had to track him and down and give him one of his own."

"you need more than a beer can to take me down," she boasts. and then, without much warning, leans over towards the driver's seat to place a kiss on kuroo's cheek. "thanks for beating the shit out of that guy for me."

"i'll always beat the shit out of someone for you, babe," he tells her, only half-joking. "you're my girl. of course i will."

she smiles, and places her hand on top of his, resting her head on top of his arm. "i'm totally gonna fuck the shit out of you after i sleep for like, twelve hours, by the way."

kuroo smirks, and from the back, through a haze of sleepiness and snores, nishinoya says, "you guys are fucking gross."

taglist: @wyrcan @rieieieieieiei @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @nnnyxie @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @macchiatomegumi @hikikaimar @noodleswastaken @garden-of-bri @rinaheartss @infinitelytimebound @scxrcherr @eyes-ofhell @sleepy-time @polish-cereal @literally-a-ferret @crownj1min @sereniteav @kozuskitten @02shuuu @rasisarchive @marzzn @barricadesenthusiast @yvjitadori @yeehawslap @phoenix-eclipses @lcvestays @thirtykiwis @kitty-m30w @causenessus @notsaelty (i wasn't sure if i should include the taglist since this is just a bonus chapter but u know what. fuck it. here u guys go).

#kuroo x reader smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #hq x you #hq #kuroo smau #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #Spotify

170 notes · View notes

rexlroze · 1 month

Text

𝟏 — 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, no physical description of reader (other then their clothing), Swearing, Mention of Alcohol, Mention of bugs, Violence/Fighting, and mostly Fluff I think.

𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

A/N: This is my first time EVER writing a proper fanfic so if it sucks. Yeah. Idk- I tried my best tbh and hope y'all like it cuz if not, idk either. I'll be doing a tag list so if you want in, uh. Comment or sumn ig. Leave tips for me to improve in areas you think I need improvement! Also this isn't exactly canon to Earth-138. It's set in the early 2000s cuz no way am I writing for the fucking 1960s or whatever fuckin' year that mf comes from. I don't do requests nor do I plan on doing so. Happy Reading! 💛

Chapter 1 >>> Chapter 2

Recently, you just moved out of your parents house into a small cozy apartment in the North of London. About 200 miles away from your mummy and daddy dearest.

“No ma, I've already rented out my parlor. 'm not changing my mind at the last minute.” You grumbled into your phone as your mom hounded you with questions about literally everything. Your health, food, water, apartment and your new parlor.

Your new parlor, you were proud to say. You had finally rented out a small shop in Camden which was about a 10 minutes walk away from your apartment.

The only problem was that the area where your shop was grounded, it was in a small narrow area where people barely passed by and only a few residents lived and since you couldn't really afford a better place due to the flies that flew out of your wallet when you opened it and your limited budget, you just had to deal with it.

“Just know, if you ever need anything sweetie, me and your pops are always here.” Your mother reassured you sweetly but you could hear the concern trailing behind her voice.

“Yeah thanks, ma. Love you, and dad.”

“Love you too, sweets. But if you need anything like money, food or even—”

“Ma.” You cut her off abruptly.

“Yes?”

“I'll be fine, alright? I love you.”

“We love you too, sweetie.” She finally answered after a second of hesitation.

With that, you hung up the phone. Beeps punctuated the silence hanging in your room before you let out a deep sigh.

You sunk into your bed, looking up at the ceiling. As supportive your parents tried to be, they didn't really trust you with your career choices. The first time you told them you wanted to be a body piercer, they laughed and brushed it off… that was until they figured out you were being 100% serious.

You were grateful they didn't try to stop you, not directly at least because they never failed to mention and suggest a few other paths of careers. They got to the point of getting so desperate that they even suggested acting school but alas, you were as stubborn as a mule.

You got your license around 2 months ago. You can still remember yourself squealing and hopping around in your (old) room like a five year old who just got a puppy for Christmas. You couldn't wait to finally quit your side job (which was being a boring cashier with fake smiles and a faker kindness towards the karens that walked in and ruined your Monday mornings) and start your own little business in London. Your literal dream.

I'll get to work tomorrow. You thought to yourself since it was pretty much late afternoon now, turning the next 3 hours into a continuation of scrolling on your phone, listening to music on blast from the speakers sitting by your desk and knocking yourself out with some cheap bottle of booze that you bought during your ride to your apartment from the airport.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Making your way through the streets of Camden, you didn't fail to see the liveliness of it. People busy with their own lives, friends giggling, children skipping, couples holding hands, staring at one another with heart eyes.

Something squeezed your heart at the sight of the adorable couple. It reminded you of what you could've had with him if he hadn't… but unfortunately, what life throws at you isn't really under your control no matter how much you wish it could be.

You brushed off the nostalgia quickly and turned a corner, finding your parlor that you had rented about a week ago. You were met by sudden silence. The streets were quiet and empty other then the two teenage boys who were giggling and had run away after when you arrived, disappearing into a narrow alleyway.

You walked to where they previously stood just to see a poster. Specifically a band poster that was vibrant with different colors. A lanky punk boy posed in the middle of the poster with a guitar slung over his shoulder accompanied by three other members.

You couldn't help but get lost in the beauty of said punk boy. Honey-coated eyes that shone back at you, the color complimenting his ebony complexion along with his puffy jet-black hair that were braided into wicks, jawline so sharp that it made you wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers along them.

You shook your head, breaking the love trance you were stuck in. You didn't have time for dating, falling in love or whatever, not that you wanted to either. Your eyes zeroed on the big font at the bottom of the page.

“Spidersica, performing this 9th March at 9:30pm.” You read out loud to yourself. Almost 2 weeks away. Shrugging, you turn back to your shop. You'll decide what to do with that information on a later date.

You twisted the door knob that was attached to the black sleek door with the obscure glass window adorning it. The gold paint was scraping off the knob revealing the silver underneath. Besides that, when you turned the knob, the door didn't budge. You twisted it once more. Nothing. You pushed the door while twisting the knob the third time. Nothing again.

Slamming your body against the door in frustration, making the door burst open and you fall through it onto the cemented flooring. The bell atop the door chimed, swinging back and forth, mocking and taunting you.

Get the door fixed, you made a mental note as you pushed yourself up back onto your two feet. Running a hand over your T-shirt and straightening it.

You scanned the room, eyes roaming over the unused facility. Cobwebs decorating the corners of the roof, dust bunnies waving at you from the floor, old cream wallpaper peeling off the walls revealing the cemented wall beneath, the polluted air making you have a cough fit after you inhaled some dust accidentally.

Unshed tears pricked your eyes as your coughing fit wore off after a little while. “This could use some renovations,” you croaked out to no one in particular as you switched the light switch on.

The light bulb lit up producing a very bright light (brighter than normal) that illuminated the room. At least something works— your train of thought was cut off when the light bulb abruptly exploded.

“Just had to jinx it,” you grumbled, placing your hand onto your face.

You found your way to some curtains beside the door, pulled the long dirty brown pieces of linen apart, revealing a huge window that let the warm sunlight seep in and lighten the dark room. You slid the windows up to let the toxic air out and fresher air in.

Get the curtains replaced. You noted down somewhere in your brain as you took in the hideous pattern of the curtains.

You walked around the shop, letting your hand trace the long wooden counter that extended from the wall. Dust collecting at your fingertips that you wiped off on your shirt.

Making your way through the shop, you found a recessed door that was fixed into the left wall on the opposite side of the parlor. You gently turned the door knob not wanting to repeat the incident that transpired a few minutes ago. It opened without a fight.

When you peeked your head in, you found yourself in a small closet room. Metal shelves up against both sides of the wall with various random and dirty objects decorating them. The closet was just as filthy as the rest of the shop.

You found boxes, some small, some large sitting at the other end of the closet. That must be the furniture! You think, making your way towards them.

As you pick up one of the boxes carefully, wrapping both arms around the box that was bigger than your own head. You suddenly yelped falling back on your butt, the box falling into your lap.

“Fuck no!” You screeched in horror as you saw a cockroach fly up in the air. “Nononononono.”

You dashed out the closet, almost tripping on your shoe laces that came undone who knows when, slamming the door shut so the pesky rodent wouldn't escape and terrorize the rest of your shop as well. “What the fuck!”

Mental note 3, get pest fucking control. So far, the day was not going as planned.

You released a deep breath pulling your phone out from your back pocket to check for damage. You've never been more grateful for the invention of phone cases in your life. You doubted your phone could bear another crack on it's already kinda-fucked-up screen.

Pocketing your phone once again, your hands rested on your hips. You stared at the floor trying to calm down. “Fuckin’ hell,” you murmured to yourself rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm.

You kicked off your left shoe and turned back to the closet, mentally preparing yourself for the battle your a lifetime.

—

After fighting for your life and clearing out your closet of any other unpleasantries that may surprise the living Christ out of you, you pulled out your phone and began typing in some to-dos into the notes app. Tile installment, cleaning, probably pipe replacement, a door fix, bulb and wiring replacement, paint, decoration and all that stuff with the budget of five fucking hundred pounds. Just yay.

You left the parlor with determination to accomplish your goal; renovate. You thought as you found your way through the door and back on the streets of Camden.

In a matter of a few hours, you had managed to hire a few mechanics and workers to, one, install marble floorings into the parlor, two, get any pipelines or such fixed, three, get all cracks and crevices in the walls plastered, four, fix the door lock, and fix, rewire and reinstall the lightbulb. All in the cost of four hundred and thirty pounds, and with the seventy pounds left, you could buy the paint, curtains, and other pleasantries as such.

Walking through the appliances stores, your phone on hand as you check off a few to-do boxes. Satisfaction bloomed in your chest to see how much you had done in the matter of a day.

A small smile spread across your face as you made your way towards the next shop when a sudden boom behind you made you stop in your steps.

Screams fill the air but they're tuned out by the sudden high-pitched ringing in your ears. People passed by you running towards the exit and evacuating while you just stood there, unable to move for some reason when finally, your head snapped towards the chaos to see what everyone was running away from.

Green Goblin. You had seen him on the news whenever you scrolled on your phone for too long or when you scrolled through the TV channels and ended up on the news channel but never did you think you'd see him in real life but if the Green Goblin was here then…

Abruptly, the villainous individual who was flying abounding on his hoverboard and terrorizing everyone in the mall was knocked off by a swift kick. The one who delivered it was quick, you only saw the red and blues colors blurring together. Oh my fucking god, no way.

Slowly, the blurs of color started mashing together into an appropriate form. It's Spider-Punk. THE fucking Spider-Punk. And you were seeing him not through tv, but through your own goddamn eyes.

You watched as the Green Goblin regained his composure and lunged towards Spider-Punk. The two vigilantes participating in a violent game of tango while you stood there wide-eyed and stuck amidst the chaos sitting in the front seat.

It didn't take long for both vigilantes to notice your presence. All at once, a shout broke out from the red masked punk, “move!” when a broken piece of the wall was thrown right in your direction by the one and only Green Goblin. You saw the white's of Spider-Punk's mask widen.

Move. An inner voice in your head screamed. You couldn't. Move, goddamnit! Nothing. It felt as time had slowed down.

The stone piece inches away from your face, ready to smash your skull in when suddenly a silky white rope connected to your side and pulled you towards it. A hand wrapped around your waist and suddenly, now you're in the air.

Your heart thumped in your ears from the sheer amount of adrenaline and fear coursing through you as the two of you swung out the appliance store.

Your arms were subconsciously wrapped around his neck, your face was buried into the curve where his neck met his shoulder. You peeked your head up to see yourself high up in the air, and a glimpse of blurred green chasing the two of you.

You sucked in a shaky breath, you wondered if he could hear how loud your heart pounded, like it was gonna erupt from your chest anytime soon.

You felt heavy air hitting your back when he abruptly turned a sharp corner and now you're sitting on a dumpster in an alleyway who knows where with a vigilante in front of you checking for any major injuries.

“You alrigh’, love?”

It took you a minute to register his words due to the daze but you finally managed to choke out a “I'm fine,” your voice was slightly breathless but you didn't focus on that right now instead, you focused on the individual in front of you.

You quickly took in his wardrobe. A red spandex bodysuit, spiked mohawk, leather jacket, collar, spikes, nets, guitar, red boots, blue laces— blue laces? well damn…

“Aight, take a breather f'me, lovelie. ‘m gonna go deal w’him, ay? Take care!” He shouted, his voice fading as he ran towards the exit of the alley and swung away before you could manage another response.

…

What the fuck just happened?

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You slowly recovered from the incident that happened just three days ago. An hour long face call with your parents who had seen you on the news swinging around in the arms of Spider-Punk. You lost count after sixteen of just how many times your parents had asked you if you were okay.

You had paid off the workers to get the job done while you were away, now you could only hope they hadn't robbed you and were currently flying to another state with your money.

You didn't have much left to do from your to-do list. The only thing you needed was some paint and furniture. You had ordered the paint (and paid) online, it would be at the door of your parlor in about a few hours. Or at least that's what the notification you gotten had said.

As you were currently laying in bed clicking away on your computer and chewing on the back of a pencil you randomly found in your backpack and an orange sofa that you found in your fridge, something ringed in your head.

Right!

The concert, you were supposed to look into it when you got home. Unfortunately, it had pretty much slipped your mind due to your little experience about a day ago.

You clicked away, opening a new tab, “Spi…der…si…ca… baa…nnd.” You pronounced each syllable carefully while you typed away.

Pushing down the enter button, you were met by a white loading screen that led you to another google page. You clicked the first link and found yourself on another website.

“A popular punk band in london with the following members: Karl Morningdew, the bass Guitarist, Riri Williams, the keyboardist and Mattea Murdock, the drumist followed by their BandLeader, Hobart Brown, the guitarist—” Your voice slowly faded out as you saw the image of a familiar punk boy pop up that you had gotten lost in just a few days ago outside of your parlor. “Huh.”

You scrolled through the website until your eyes settled onto the information you were looking for, “Spidersica, publicly performing on the 9th of March.” The information was followed by the location and other necessary details.

“Eh, screw it. I gotta socialize anyway,” you blurted out, clicking off the tab.

—

After finishing another can of soda, you finally had gotten ready to go back out after locking yourself in your house for the past forty-eight hours. Patting the pockets of your jeans to make sure you had your phone and keys in them, you escorted yourself through the door of your apartment.

You soon find yourself making your way down the three quarter turn stairs and back on the roads looking up in the sky for a particular rebellious masked vigilante.

You didn't know what for, maybe to thank him. Or maybe just curiosity at its finest. You shrugged the thoughts off and continued making your way to the parlor. You didn't have time for a cat and mouse chase where the mouse doesn't even know he's being chased.

After all, you were no one special. Just a normal everyday civilian whom his job was to protect.

Finally arriving at your parlor, it looked a lot less abandoned than it did when you arrived three days ago, the front door opening with ease when you pushed the keys in and twisted the knob which was also replaced. You could tell due to the shining new gold color coating it.

Polished white marble tiles installed in the once cemented flooring. The crevices in the walls were filled out along with the old cream wallpaper removed. An air conditioner was fixed into the wall above the recessed door, a fixed bulb and working electricity.

Those were some major improvements but that didn't change the fact the place was still filthy as fuck.

You sighed and grabbed a broom that rested in the corner of the closet, pulling your headphones over your head and began sweeping away.

—

After you finished sweeping, you decide to install the new curtains you had bought. They were a dark marengo made of a silky smooth material. As you tried to push the curtains into the metal pole, the bell aloft the door began chiming signifying somebody had arrived, when you turned the door, you were met by a man who stood in a blue-ish uniform, a clipboard in his hand while he tapped the back of a pen on it.

“Uh hello, delivery for Y/N Y/L/N?”

“That would be me.”

“Oh, please just sign here.” He turned the clipboard around to face you, offering you the ballpoint he had.

You walked over, taking the pen from his hand and signed the piece of paper where he had told you to.

He put the clipboard away, taking the pen back from you as he stepped out and came back in with a large box placing it down onto the tile flooring. “G’day, madam.”

He politely bowed his head while you let out a small “thank you” after he tilted his head back up and walked back out the parlor.

You picked up the box that was immensely heavy, probably because of the damn paint cans in them, Sherlock, you had just assumed they most likely were the paints you ordered.

When you turned away, placing the box onto the counter, suddenly the bell chimed once again. You spoke without looking up, “did you forget something, Mr.mailman?”

“Mailman? Hardly.” A familiar angelic voice spoke, making you freeze, Spider-Punk—? You thought as you turned to the voice with wide eyes, but to your surprise. It was someone completely different.

“You good, love? You look like you just seen a ghost.” Honey-coated eyes, ebony complexion, jet-black hair, sharp jawline, is that-?

“Oh my god,” you breathed, “are you Hobart Brown?” your voice was a higher pitch than usual but you couldn't help it. “Oh my god, what are you doing here—” you were abruptly cut off by him.

“Okay okay, I'm gonna cut you off right there, love, first of all. Just call me Hobie. Please.” He chuckled, a small smirk on his face, “and well, second of all, I heard you did piercings, hm?”

“Oh. Uh… okay then, Hobie. Yes. Yeah, I do piercings, why?” Well, that's a stupid question.

“I was wondering if you could do mine, because as you can see, my face is pretty clean.” He smiles softly, pointing to his face that didn't bear any piercings… yet.

“Oh yeah, um. I'm not really open yet—” you cut yourself off at a sudden realization. “Wait, how'd you find me?” You raised an eyebrow, you only remember telling everyone in your circle about the parlor yet.

“Oh, one of my friends told me.”

You raised your eyebrow higher, confusion bubbling in you. “Can I know their name?”

“Yuri.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

Yuri? As in your goddamn BEST FRIEND Yuri?

“Yuri Watanabe?” You asked, expecting a no.

"You know her?"

Of course I know my damn best friend, dumbass! That's what you wanted to say, but instead you held your tongue.

“Well yeah, she's my best friend. We met at a bar back in York.” You didn't know why you were telling him, you didn't even know if you could trust him. After all, he was just a random stranger— sure he was famous or whatever but you still just found out about him like three days ago.

“Huh, I don't think she's mentioned you but nice to meet you, er…?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too, Hoba- Hobie.” You quickly corrected your small error.

“Y/N.” He looked like he was trying to remember something from a long time ago. Suddenly his eyes lit up, “oh yeah, she has mentioned you a couple times if I think about it.” He gave you a polite smile, “Do you need help? with whatever you're doing?”

“What?”

“I said do you want help?” He repeated, “seems like you could use some.” He observed, eyes roaming around your unfinished parlor.

“Do… are you looking for something in return?” You were confused by his sudden offer. He had to be wanting something in return, right? I mean, he learned your name like JUST a minute ago.

“Nah, just wanna help you out. Plus, you could prolly use some company, ay?”

“I mean… wait, why would you wanna do that? Aren't you busy with things like… practice or something.”

“Do you want help or not?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” You answered with a small voice, biting down on your lip gently.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @hobieszeze @missshelleyduvall

Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune

158 notes · View notes

meshlasolus · 1 year

Text

Temple of the Forbidden Eye (2)

Indiana Jones x OC

Series Summary: The relationship between student and teacher is strictly professional, or at least it should be. He’s never met his match in archeological intelligence, and if he ever does, it might drive him to do something stupid.

A/n: The amount of people who actually read the first chapter veery much surprised me because Indy barely gets enough love anymore but bro I’m so happy y’all liked it and I love this man so I will fr try and update this more often.

Warnings: i don’t even know what counts as a warning for this series tbh… old fashioned ways of thinking i suppose??

(Co-written by the lovely @theatrelove3000 you guys should go give her a follow)

There was a warm wind that swept through her hair as she rounded the corner of the block. She looked back down at her note, tucked into the top of her book. This was in fact the correct street, but it looked so different than how she imagined. Her old mentor described the great Indiana Jones as the world’s most accomplished archeologist, and for all the daring and adventurous stories she’d been told, she couldn’t possibly imagine him living in a quaint neighborhood like this, all lined with picket fences and well maintained front lawns.

She read the mailboxes, seeing the iron letters hanging on each one, signifying each house’s address, finding the one next to the end of the cul-de-sac and checking the small paper slip once more to confirm that this was the right house. It was older looking, more warm and inviting than the others. It didn’t appear as perfectly manicured as the other cookie cutter houses. It looked lived in. Like a home. the corners of the walls had chipped paint, and water lines from rain.

Class today had gone the same as always, her professor hadn’t even stopped her on the way out, or in the hall as he was leaving the building. It was just another day for him, as it should be for her. She couldn’t help her nerves though, as she strode up to the front door, ready to knock. Hesitation was only momentary, as a deep breath was inhaled, and she laid three firm raps on the door.

While waiting for the occupant of the house to open said door, she turned and looked around her on the porch. There were some interesting looking plants that she didn’t recognize as being from this country, or any she’d heard of thus far. They must be exotic, small reminders of his work in the field. She smiled at the thought of his worldly travels, it all seemed so exciting, and she was enthralled to one day embark on such journeys.

Her head whipped back to the door as the old creaking hinges brought her back to reality. Still nervous, she was smiling wide, but her hands were shaking. Calm down, she had to think to herself. This is just a part of your work.

“Hi,” she said in a released breath, holding her hands together to quell their rapid movements. He gave a slight chuckle and smirked. She seemed far less confident here than in the classroom setting. Maybe when she was there she felt the need to prove herself. “I hope I’m not too late, I got a bit lost on the way.”

“You walked here?” he tilted his head, looking around behind her to see if there was at least someone to drop her off. Not a car in sight, or even another person for that matter. She was completely alone… which to him didn’t seem quite safe.

“Yes, I like walking places,” she mentally cursed herself for such a stupid sentence to come from her lips. She had been working for years to get here, she’d hoped it all wouldn’t be ruined by a few airheaded remarks. Professor Jones did not share the sentiment. Though he thought it sweet and endearing that she enjoyed something so simple as taking walks, he also saw the signs of her nerves the second he opened the door, and figured she’d be more calm once the work began inside.

“Well, you’re not late at all, in fact,” he held the door open for her to follow him in, shutting it behind her when her feet were on the hardwood floors. You took a moment to look around the entranceway before he stepped forward. “I just got everything set up in the office.”

You looked at the unique pieces in his living room, all from different cultures and dynasties. They were very interesting, but you noted that not one piece in the room was real, only a copy of something he had found in the past. He believed that all precious artifacts belonged in a museum, and he’d be damned if he went along in hypocrisy and kept a rare treasure for himself. That wasn’t part of his job, he didn’t take trophies.

“See something you like?” he noticed her slowing down behind him, only turning when in his peripheral she wasn’t there. He took in her studious look of curiosity, watching as she gazed from one item to another. “Bet you can’t tell which one is real.”

She looked at him with a surprised look. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Of all the days in her life to be flustered and speechless, this should not have been the day. She opted instead not to say a word, but to close her mouth and get closer to the pieces in the room. All she had to do was take into account one thing, and then she was sure.

“This map,” she pointed to it on the encasing table in the corner of the room, turning back to him with a straight face.

He nodded, seemingly impressed with how quickly she figured it out. Perhaps she had been earlier trained in detecting markings on old parchment, or maybe she’d learned how to differentiate aged ink from reprinting, she may have possibly even known the map from-

“It wasn’t that hard, it’s the only thing in here covered in glass.”

Well, so much for that. He supposed deductive reasoning was also a good skill, and she was quick on her heels to notice it so fast. He chuckled, smiling genuinely at her now confident and forward demeanor. She was very sure of herself, almost like that of his colleagues.

“Huh,” he shook his head, letting whatever thought that entered his mind to pass when he did. It wasn’t a bad thought, a very true one, actually. She used common sense to do something that every other student in his classroom would take hours to figure out. She was intelligent in her studies, but she was also just smart. Possibly a gifted mind like his. He hoped he’d soon unravel all her hidden talents and abilities, as he knew she was already more than just a student in his class. She was dedicated, and confident in her studies like no other boy in his class had ever been.

“Something wrong?” She asked, her head tilted slightly as her brows furrowed in confusion. She didn’t know if he was impressed, or if she had upset him in some way. She knew better than to speak so plainly with a man in this field, but she couldn’t help but feel more comfortable to do so around his presence. The others would shoot her down, remind her of her place, but he had encouraged her, so why shouldn’t she?

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he shook his head, not sure if he should explain himself or not. It didn’t seem that important, and there was work to be done, so he continued down the hall again, calling out for her to come with him. “Follow me.”

As soon as she entered the room she was filled with a ghastly surprise. The sacred office and workspace of the great Indiana Jones, where he conducted business as well as studied ancient artifacts… was a complete mess. Papers in stacks all across the room, with folders opened to random pages and thrown half-hazardly in different spots. There were even large books, the texts in which broke down great historical landmarks, maps, and hidden treasures of the world. There wasn’t exactly a pattern to which they had been pulled from the shelves, as they didn’t seem to connect with one another at all.

Her face scrunched up with slight disgust, not expecting to see that her favorite professor was in fact, a slob.

“The plan is to find my paper on Degas Painting. I’ve already started organizing different reports into separate categories; and I think if we work for a few hours we can make some decent progress on finding it.”

He journeyed further into the room, careful not to step on any papers on the floor. She was still at a loss for words. It was only when he looked up and met her eyes that she had something to say.

“How can you work with such a mess around you?” She laughed, disbelief covered her expression, and he saw her mind turning the gears within her head. What was she thinking about?

“It may look that way to some, but I know where everything is.”

“Except for your paper on Degas Painting.”

Thirteen minutes. He had left her alone to search for only thirteen minutes. There was an important phone call that he simply couldn’t miss, and it lasted for a duration of thirteen minutes. How in that time could she have managed to do this? When he hung up the phone, he walked back into the room, assuming she’d be right where he left her. No, she was not, and how could he have been so foolish as to think that the most intelligent student in his very prestigious class would have sat there clueless without him?

His eyes were wide, and his jaw was nearly slack as he scanned the room. Not only were all the papers filed away in their respective folders, but they were organized on the desk. Every little thing had been put away, he assumed in orderly fashion. Hell, he took a few steps into the room and saw the paper he was looking for laying by itself on the desk. The bolded letters ‘Degas Painting’ in black ink were clear as day. He’d been searching for it for days, going through stacks and stacks of files to try and recover it for his class. He looked up to you in the corner, scanning the bookshelves as you placed books back where they went. The most noticeable thing he saw? His hat had been removed from his desk, and she wore it on her head. He had half a mind to walk across the floor and take it back, without even saying a word.

He wasn’t angry, but somewhat irritated that she’d moved all his things, which he’d spent days looking through. He also found it somewhat annoying that his new apprentice was already better at the job than he was. But she’s never been in the field, he reminds himself.

He huffed a long breath, placing his hands on his hips as he narrowed his eyes at her. She finally turned around, having seen that he came back, and there was a sweet smile laid widely across her face. She was clearly proud of the work she had accomplished, and he’d hate to negate the good work, but there was still the matter of his prized high-crowned sable fedora.

“That’s my hat,” he pointed to it, his tone more firm, but not aggressive. She would moreso describe it as possessive.

She was quick to take it off of her head, holding it gently within her hands in an attempt to ease his mind.

“I’m sorry,” she suddenly felt the need to explain herself, looking around the room in an attempt to avoid looking at him. He got this upset over a hat? “It’s just that, it took up space on the desk, and I didn’t really know where to move it.”

He came up to where she stood, snatching away the hat and placing it on his own head. It wasn’t done spitefully, in fact, she almost laughed at the comedic way he adjusted it after. He must really like his hat, it seemed like his most important possession. He wore it well, she noted that right away.

“You found the paper,” he crossed his arms, nodding slightly to her in thanks, but not giving too much recognition away. “And you cleaned my office.”

She wasn’t sure if he was still upset about the hat, or if he was genuinely offended by the fact that she had gone outside of her instruction and done what she wanted. She’d hoped he might be pleased with her efforts, but of course, she was probably just assuming too much of her favorite professor… again.

“I promise I put everything away as it was organized, I even put the books back in alphabetical order,” She defended, walking two steps back to the bookshelf and letting him see for himself. This was the best his office had looked in years, with everything being in perfect order like he’d never gotten around to maintaining it before. “I’m sorry that I didn’t ask, I just thought that it might be easier for you-”

“You did good, kid,” he smirked, getting her to stop her mindless rambling. His small nod of approval made her smile, her nerves fading away again as her chest filled with pride.

He thought she had done good, and with that she was pleased.

The small sofa against the wall of his office was practically sunken in by how long the weight had been placed upon the cushions. It had been many, many hours since they sat down to go through the paper and yet neither of them seemed to notice. The sun had gone down ages ago and they had needed to turn on lamps to continue.

At some point in the evening, she had gotten hungry. When she asked if he had something to eat, he responded, "I eat when the work is done." Which… wasn't very comforting as given the state of his office when she arrived, he was clearly never 'done working.'

Professor Jones had given her permission to go check his kitchen to find some food, but his kitchen was arguably worse than his office. It was perfectly clean, that wasn't the problem. The problem was the lack of food he has. He has a total of three cans of soup, one half of a loaf of sliced bread and a jar of peanut butter.

"Professor?"

He hummed in acknowledgement, not looking up, though she required his attention.

"Are you dead? Or… undead or something?"

That got his attention, "Um… what?"

"Undead. Are you actually alive?"

Doctor Jones was genuinely baffled for a second or two. He’d been surprised by her antics nearly all day, and yet, there was still more to her that came with every word she said. Her joking tone obviously indicated she was mocking him for something, but he was unsure of the reason this time around.

"You're not making any sense,” he paused, finally glancing up from his work to respond with effort. “What are you even talking about?" He sounds a little annoyed now..

"You have nothing to eat," she says, gesturing in the direction of the kitchen. She was sure he’d known this, or at least hoped he did, otherwise her jokes of the ‘undead professor’ may not seem so far-fetched.

"Sure I do."

Lies. She searched high and low in every cabinet and corner of that kitchen. It wasn’t hard to deduce that there wasn’t anything there. It was quite clear to anyone with a half decent set of eyes.

"No, actually… You don't. You don't have any food. So are you?"

He rolled his eyes, but knew she was probably right. He never went into that kitchen, and barely even remembered to shop for food on a regular basis. He’d always get food from the cafeteria of the University, or better yet, any new place he found on the walk home that looked suitable to his picky taste.

"Miss Ledger-"

"I know that you said you don't eat until the work is done, but based on the state of your kitchen, I'm assuming that you just don't eat… Ever," she crossed her arms, trying to think of how he could possibly get along on his own. He didn’t seem to be married, or have a roommate, and she highly doubted he found himself in the company of his peers while at home.

He huffed a bit and tossed the paper on the coffee table in front of him. He looks over at Scarlett, watching her for a moment. She's more… for lack of a better word, mouthy than most women he's met. It's actually nice. Refreshing, even. Not even the male students he's worked with would speak to him like this. It's clear that she knows her value and is happy to be herself, even around authority. Though sometimes annoying, especially right now, he would do his best to encourage that the attitude stays the same, as it would do well for her if she were to continue in this industry.

"Yes, I do eat. No, I'm not an undead individual. More often than not, I get food in a restaurant or at school. I don't go shopping for it very often," His tone is calm, though dripping with sarcasm at the beginning, "If you are that hungry, I can go get something, but I'm about ninety percent sure there is at least a can of soup in there."

"So you only eat soup when you're at home?"

It was funny to try and imagine him, the world renowned Professor Jones, hovering over a small pot at the stove whilst he stirred a batch of soup from a can in his pantry. She didn’t know why, but it amused her.

"Or a sandwich."

"Yes, because that's so much better," Her tone matched his, impressing him yet again. There were few people in the world that could keep up with his wit and never-ending sarcasm. She reminded him of himself, so much it almost frightened him.

He sighed a little. Dropping his head to hide the smile, he shakes his head slightly. "I'll eat if you make enough for both of us, since it bothers you so much."

She was almost satisfied… but there was still one fact of the matter that continued to reign true.

"That still leaves the problem of you having no food," her pointed look was enough to make him smirk. He really was impressed with her demeanor. She was relentless, now that she’d been given his approval. He wondered if she would be so forward now, if he had been so reassuring to her efforts before.

"Just make the soup, there's enough in there. I know that for a fact."

She huffs and turns on her heel, calling over her shoulder, "fine. But I'm going to make you go grocery shopping so you have at least something with protein to eat."

He laughs quietly, going back to his work. When she returns, she has a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a piece of bread for each of them. They continue to work while they eat, and though the silence is deafening, it’s comfortable, and welcomed.

A few hours later, he catches a movement out of the corner of his eye. She was resting with her head in her hand, arm propped up on the back of the sofa. He turns back to the paper but she moves again. He turns to look at her fully this time and notices her eyes are half closed. Interesting. The movement he was seeing was her nodding off and waking herself back up. He wondered if he had kept her for too long, or if she might be upset that there was so much work to be done. He thought about how dedicated she was, though, and knew she was probably just tired from a long day of work.

Turning back to look at the clock across the room, he realized what time it was. As he went to wake her up, he remembered that she had walked there. He may live in a better neighborhood but that didn’t mean it was safe for a young woman to walk alone at night, and he didn’t have a clue as to where she might live. After thinking about his options for a moment, and taking stock of his own wakefulness, he decided that it was too late for him to drive her home. He set the papers he was holding down, and leaned over to take the ones she had out of her hand. The feeling of papers falling woke her again and she tried to tighten her hold on them, but they were already in her professor's grasp.

“I have a guest room. I’ll walk you up there. Do you need something more comfortable to sleep in?” His voice sounded raspy and tired, even to his own ears. His offer was rushed out, and hadn’t been thought through completely, but she understood well enough in her dreary state.

“I’m sorry, what’s happening?” She reaches up to rub the sleep out of her eyes, sitting up straight again. The sweet and quiet tone she held was such a contrast to her bellaring complaints of his lack of food from earlier. It made him smile to see yet another side of his favorite student. He’d realized by now that she was.

“You are dozing. It’s too late for me to, in good conscience, allow you to walk home alone and I am not in any state to drive you. You are going to stay here for the night.”

As harsh as it sounded, he was right. It wasn’t safe, nor was it in her best interest to even leave the walls of this house at this hour. She, of course, had other thoughts on the matter, having walked home in far worse conditions before, though it was foolish in anyone’s book.

“Oh- No, Professor, it’s alright. I don't mind going home, I don't want to intrude."

"You aren't intruding. I'm offering,” he insisted, taking the papers she tried to retrieve from the table. It was by far the time to call it a night.

"Professor-" She seemed mildly uncomfortable at his suggestion, though it was more of a demand. He doesn’t want anything from her and she could tell based on his demeanor. He just wanted her to be safe and get a decent night's rest. There was no harm in it by any means, but based on how it might look in the eyes of others, she still had to think it through. These may be modern times but there were societal norms and expectations. A young woman staying the night in her professor’s house would not be considered acceptable by any means.

"Miss Ledger, have you ever heard the phrase 'nothing good ever happens after two a.m.?'" He asked with a slanted look on his face, brows raised in suspicion. He made it up on the spot, but still asked for the heck of it, and to hopefully lead her to agree with him faster.

"No but-"

"In my experience, it's very true. It's now two-thirty.You're staying here,” The tone of finality in his voice was more than clear. He wasn’t going to back down and gave no other option than for her to agree. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing he allowed his best student to walk across town in the middle of the night, while barely keeping her eyes open from the exhaustion that weighed on her shoulders.

She looked at him, then at the clock, and with a heave of her shoulders, she’d decided it was probably best that she stay where it is guaranteed she will be safe. He was renowned worldwide for being a grand explorer, surely he was a better option than the streets after midnight.

“Alright,” she conceded, nodding to him firmly. He noticed she seemed more comfortable now that the subject was put to rest.

“Thank you. I don’t have the energy to argue with you about your own safety right now,” He smiles gently and stands up off the sofa, offering his hand to help her up. His smile, even in her barely awake state of mind, was warm and genuine. She didn’t think he could smile like that, as she’d witnessed too many smirks and side eyes from the man in the last several hours to consider it as a possibility.

She smiled back and took his hand. “To be entirely honest, neither do I.”

That made him grin. He likes her, more than he would care to admit. She not only reminded him of himself, but also offered opposite attributes. He couldn’t wait to work alongside her on a project, for he felt their personalities and skills would compliment the other perfectly.

Gesturing with his arm for her to go first, he let her walk out of his office then led her through the house. He opened the door to the guest bedroom, which she saw was perfectly clean, if not a little dusty. He leaves her for just a moment and comes back with an old shirt and pair of sleep pants he hadn’t worn in a long time. He gives directions to the restroom before bidding her goodnight and heading to bed himself.

When he woke up the next morning, he had hoped to bid her a good day, but the door to the guest room was open, and peeking in, he saw no sign of her, but the bed was perfectly made and the clothes he gave her were folded and sitting on the end. She had even dusted off the surfaces.

He was only slightly upset to find that she had left so early, for the signs of her being there were clear, and he felt he could get accustomed to the look of it.

Tags: @justanothersadperson93 @sparklytoaster

#indiana jones #indiana jones x reader #indiana jones x oc #Temple of the forbidden eye #disneyland #harrison ford

122 notes · View notes

randomgentlefolk · 5 months

Text

CPC CHAPTER 158

With each chapter updated, the more I sob to my cat (while wearing my plaid clothes of course)

Also this post is going to be long because I love psychology so much.

Tw: mentions of un-aliving oneself

Lorzanna fighting alongside each other....... that is the most badass way to say "we're girlfriends"

Lorena using the chains as whips and Suzanna doing fencing style!! THEM. I NEED MORE OF THEM.

Medic Syrah! It's like one of those I things I never know I want until I get it.

Aww Orson and Monika holding the portcullis together <3 they're so strong???

Frederick telling Syrah step by step on how to do first aid <3

Also, Frederick using his strategy skill!! He can finally show his talent for Leland to see >:D or, uh, not really since Leland is not currently in the room but ANYWAY

Beckett..Beckett, Beckett, Beckett.... Man got snitched and I'm having second hand embarrassment 💀💀 well he won't be Pastel Top 1 guard but at least he can be with Maria. Oh yeah finally!! He knows who the real Maria is!! I hope he won't forget when he's back conscious tho.

Fellas, let's give appreciation to our guard homies Horace and Old guard (he still needs a name)

Also may I just say Maria looks GORGEOUS in this panel?? HER HER HER??? Also her starting to wonder why Frederick is against the Plaid kingdom?? IT'S ALL COMING TOGETHER Y'ALL.

I went from "Lance!! :D" to "Lance :'(" because damn...DAMN??? Bro tbh I'm relieved the gala foreshadowing is him getting hit on the head and not gettint CHOPPED but on the other hand DAMN. The commander did NOT have to do that DAMN. The blunt head trauma??? What if he hit head when he fell?? "So he won't hurt himself" my foot BRUH. I just checked again and HE HIT HIS HEAD. Bro is gonna get a concussion.

Also his face is still bleeding out. In case someone, uh, forgot.

Go Lorena and Suzie go help him! I know what he did was horrible but he's trying!!

Confrontation Time Yayyy...

Blaine. Blaine bro. Stop. Just. Okay there is a lot of childhood issues to be unpacked here. But you know what before talking to him before telling him what he should do maybe we should all just. Let him relax, for awhile. I mean ngl he looks awful, and I'm not trying to be mean here but he and Frederick clearly needs professional help. But let's unpack them one by one. Let's start with the pianist.

(Disclamier: I am not a professional. I am simply telling you my opinion in this post)

Holy shit. Someone give him a break. Give him lots of sleep. Anything to make this boy relax. Let me just say this right away, golden child syndrome. I'm blaming all of these shit on Leland. Y'all our lesson today is: don't put too much pressure on a child, don't compare your children to each other, and accept your child however they are. Please y'all this has happen too much. A child is smart and they achieves lots of things, then makes that their only reason of living, the only reason they are loved. That's horrible. In Blaine's case, I think he feels as if those achievements, those trophies, are a way to validate his life. It's like he cannot fail because if he fails automatically he disappoints everyone including himself.

We know that he has been 'thriving' since he was child. Let's say approximately since he was uhh 9 years old? That would be 12 years of intense hardwork hell sugarcoated by the paradise of 'winning'. Once again, not exactly the best childhood ever. Not to mention, does he even have any friends? We have never seen him mention any. So we can say that he doesn't have any support outside of him being 'perfect' (well, until Maria at least, but that was pretty short-lived :')

At this point I won't even be surprised if the reason he has been doing self care is only so that he looks good as a model and so that people love him.

Man, he needs intense reality check. Also I'm like 99% sure he definitely doesn't want to kill Frederick. The event of him and Lance beating the shit out of the bullies still live in my head rent free. Bro is VERY confused with his life right now and needs help.

Let's move on to the youngest now

Right of the bat I'm going to say:

Scapegoat child, self esteem issues, possibility of depression, and uh we're gonna have to add this now... possibility of being suicidal. Alright.

What is a scapegoat child? A scapegoat child is the child who is pretty much blamed for everything and takes attention of the center of the problem, if that makes sense. As far as I know, this is the child who recognize the actual problems in the family, and is the one to break the cycle of abuse. These children are the opposite of the golden child. And you know what it makes sense that both of them are in the same household. If there is a golden child to praise and give attention to, then there is the scapegoat who is blamed and left out. That is what Frederick is in his family.

Self esteem issues. This boy has been told he is pathetic, weak, useless, and all of those words for his entire life, to the point he actually believe that those words are his entire personality.

Now, I'm not gonna straight up say he is suicidal, though we have an evidence in the panel here. But if we look at the past chapters, he doesn't exactly actively try to die. Those moments where he fell of the Pastel hills are accidents. But we can also say that the suicidal thoughts just came recently. Especially considering what is happening lately. Being trapped in a deep hole with little to no socialization can really do some things to you...even if you're an introvert. We are social creatures. As much as we say we hate chatting with people, we also don't want to be alone with no social communication our entire life now, do we?

Anyway, I'm going to suggest this, there is a chance that Frederick probably has what is called passive suicidal ideation. He doesn't actively try to die, but he wouldn't care if he die. But I'm a little conflicted on this one. Maybe someone else who is better at this field of study can help me?

We can also assume that Frederick told Blaine to kill him out of desperation. There are lots of possibilities that I hope Lambcat will explore more in the future.

Also his coping mechanism of escaping reality is something to watch out for since he has shown signs of not being able to differentiate between reality and fantasy

Now, I just want to say that there is a chance that I'm heavily wrong here. But I'm just stating my opinion and I'm not trying to offend anyone. If there is something wrong in what I wrote please do tell me.

Okay, let's move on to the next scene now—

NAH BLAINE SWINGING THAT SWORD 💀💀 Bro is clearly so stressed istg. C'mon Blaine the curse tattoo doesn't look THAT bad. It looks aight if you ask me. I would even say it's unique.

Yeahhh! What Whitney said! Lmao I'm so sorry but this scene reminds me of Steven Universe and Spinel. Whitney just wanna talk it out :') he has changed so much from his old self.

YOOOO ALL THE ELDEST SIBLINGS ARE GIVING BLAINE A REALITY CHECK. Maria, Whitney, Calpernia. Snap outta it Blaine please.

"I'd like to cut in" Goals. I do also want to start my battle by saying a pun. I can't wait for Prez vs Blaine!! It's going to be sick.

THE MAIDS. HOLY MOLY (haha get it?). Of course they also have weapons. It makes sense considering how protective Jack is! Also

Was. Was the cleaver not enough? Lol 💀

I am even more hyped for Leland vs The maids!

Well, that's it for now. That was a long ass post lmao. I'm gonna go back to class.

Mono out! (But still in to hear your thoughts)

#cursed princess club #cpc

36 notes · View notes

horanghaejamjam · 2 years

Text

Horanghae Chapter 1

Summary: Everyone knows that Soonyoung loves tigers. The term Horanghae literally means “I tiger you”. Needless to say, the Seventeen members shouldn’t have been as surprised as they were the night he came home with a very timid white tiger curled against him.

Pairing: Hoshi-centric, Seventeen x White Tiger hybrid reader.

Chapter Rating: PG

Genre: Fluff, Very slight angst

Word Count: 6.6k

Chapter Warnings: Very brief mentions of abandonment/neglect and hybrid trafficking.

Note: In this story it is implied that reader is younger than Hoshi and most of the members but older than the three maknaes. Korean age is still a bit confusing to me tbh because math so if I got it wrong please lmk.

Disclaimer: This is a repost from my original blog, this is my own original work and not copied. Images used in header are not mine. All written work is 100% my own, editors and beta readers will be credited as needed. Do not copy, translate, or repost my work onto other sites without my permission.

Previous (Teaser) . . . Next Chapter

Horanghae Masterlist

The sound of rain echoed against the cold pavement and the roof of a convenience store that did very little to shield you from the assault of water droplets. What started off as gentle rain had quickly escalated to a full on downpour with no warning to let you find shelter. Now you were trapped hiding against the wall of a convenience store, curled up and using your paw to shield your eyes from the rain. It was late and very few people were out at this time, and those who were didn’t pay much interest to the white and black ball of fur slowly getting drenched by the rain. With no one to help, you just had to wait it out or try to find another place to sleep without getting caught by traffickers.

You were a young white tiger hybrid, your genetics and coloration of your fur making you a very rare and expensive breed. “Wild” hybrid species were already considered more of a luxury as they were often harder to care for than their domestic counterparts, but ones with special traits could be worth a fortune to the right buyer. You had known this since the moment you were old enough to be sent to your first home. Having gone through many in such a short span before finally ending up a stray, living on the streets after being thrown out from your last home.

You never knew why your owners never seemed to want you for too long before giving you up again. You always tried to be on your best behavior and make things easy for them. You always did what you were told, didn’t cause trouble, kept to yourself, and you were as docile as physically possible. Despite the fact you were a tiger, you were fairly small for your species so it wasn’t like you could do much anyways. However, no matter what you did, you always ended up back at the shelter or, in your current case, on the street.

As much of a luxury as wild hybrids could be, a lot of people also avoided them, especially common predators. They were always stereotyped as “dangerous” or “too hard to train” so people only ever got them when they wanted a guard. In instances such as yours, if the hybrid wasn’t protective, they were often thrown out and replaced. Then there were the ones that decided to give them a shot and panicked the second the smallest growl came from them. Lastly, in the case of your most recent owner, they had adopted you as a “trophy” then got annoyed when you became too much work. Then before you knew it a simple trip to the store had resulted in you watching sadly in the parking lot as they waved goodbye and drove away. That had been almost a week ago and you had given up on finding your forever home. You sold your collar and used the money to buy food then wandered around in tiger form aimlessly until someone took enough pity on you to spare you a few scraps or a water bottle. You also had to dodge shelters a few times after concerned callers tried to get you a place to stay.

It’s not that you wanted to stay on the streets for the rest of your life, but you were scared about finding another home. Since you were a cub your life had been miserable so who wasn’t to say that would be the case for your next home. By now you weren’t going to get your hopes up that your savior would come for you.

A soft sigh left you as you shivered and curled up further, your tail curling around your back paw comfortingly. By now you were soaked and your fur was no longer providing warmth as you began to shiver as an effect of the storm. There was no way you would be finding sleep any time soon so all you could do was hope the rain would let up soon. As you shivered for the millionth time, you tuned in to the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. Your ears perked up and you were about to open your eyes when you felt something soft and warm draped over you.

“Hey there little one are you okay?” opening your eyes you found dark brown ones staring right back at you. His brows furrowed in concern, lips puffed into a pout, and his hair was slowly falling into his face as the rain drenched it. He was only in a thin white shirt as his jacket was now thrown over your back to try to shield you from the rain and drenching him in return. You wanted to shy away from him but something about his warm gaze and caring act made you feel warm and safe. All you could do was chuff softly and rest your paw on his leg. He chuckled softly at this and gently reached out to pet your head. You flinched away at first which made him pull back before moving slower to pet behind your ears. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing out in a storm like this?” he cooed. It was kind of endearing how sweet he was, cooing and petting you like you were the most precious thing in the world and it made you giddy. You couldn’t help but shuffle a bit closer and lean into his hand.

“My name is Soonyoung,” he introduced, moving his hand to rub the top of your head, “do you have a name?” It took a few minutes of silence and you blinking up at him for him to giggle nervously, “Oh right, you can’t talk as a tiger can you?” He hummed in thought for a second before perking up and moving his hand, “How about this, I ask you yes or no questions and you can either nod your head or tap my leg with your paw okay? One tap for yes and two taps for no, sound good?” After a second you slowly lifted your head and nodded it gently. Soonyoung smiled wider and clapped his hands eagerly. It seemed that he didn’t care about the fact he was now drenched from the rain, more eager to talk to you.

“Okay, so this is an awkward question but are you a girl?” you huffed as if trying not to laugh before nodding your head, making Soonyoung sigh in relief. “I thought so but wanted to make sure, are you stuck out here?” you nodded again, “are you cold?” Kind of an obvious question but you nodded again, shaking your head after just enough to shake some of the water from your fur. “What am I saying of course you’re cold,” Soonyoung mumbled, “I’m assuming that if you’re stuck out here in the rain you don’t have anywhere to go right? Would you like to come home with me? We can dry you off, get you something to eat and give you a warm place to sleep.” This time you froze, as nice as his offer sounded you were scared. Yeah Soonyoung seemed nice but they all did, you didn’t think you could handle being abandoned again. Soonyoung could sense your hesitation and began to panic thinking maybe he misunderstood or came off too strong.

“Oh I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry,” he pouted and slowly began to move away from you and stand up so he wouldn’t make things worse. The second his warmth left you, you found yourself craving his affection even more. The thought of him leaving you alone made you anxious so you quickly stood up before he could think about leaving. Shaking as much water off your body as possible, and his jacket in the process, you walked over to him and nuzzled your head against his leg. Soonyoung couldn’t help but laugh at your adorable action as he bent down to pick up his jacket. Not that putting it on would do much as both of you were dripping even now that the rain was calming down. “I’ll take that as a yes then? Alright little one follow me, home is only a few blocks away,” he took two steps before pausing and looking down at you, “oh, I should probably also tell you now that I’m an idol and live with my members so you may or may not get crowded when we get there.” You honestly weren’t quite sure what he meant by being an idol but decided to prepare yourself for more people anyways. More than anything, you were just thankful to have a place to sleep that wasn’t a thrown out mattress.

It was nearly three am by the time you guys reached the dorm and by now the other members of Seventeen were starting to panic a bit. Soonyoung had been a bit restless from not working and had decided to go out for a bit of a late walk since he knew no one would be out at this time to bother him. However, that had been hours ago and before it had started to rain. The storm combined with the fact he wasn’t answering his phone would worry just about anyone.

They tried their best to be patient, hoping maybe he found a place to hide from the rain and his phone died which is why he didn’t answer. It made sense logically, but they were idols and you never knew what trouble they could get into if the wrong person recognized them. They waited a little bit longer before Seungcheol stood up and went to grab his jacket. Soonyoung couldn’t have gone tool far and he wasn’t answering his phone so the only logical choice was to go out and look for him.

“I swear if he just got lost or something I may kill him,” the oldest mumbled as he bent over to put his shoes on. Jihoon, Seokmin, and Joshua also making their way over to the door to join him after a moment. Might as well go in a group to cover more ground and make sure that they didn’t accidentally lose another member in the process.

“If we’re not back in like half an hour we probably ended up dead somewhere,” Jihoon muttered, resulting in Josh glaring at him and nudging his shoulder. There was a mixed sound of confirmation and a few giggles from the others

Just as the group was about to head out and search for their missing member the door opened to reveal a soaking wet Soonyoung. He barely even managed to get his shoes off and step into the room with you before there were at least eight boys surrounding the two of you. The sudden attention made you whimper and cower further behind him. You didn’t know what you had expected when he told you he lived with his group members but you hadn’t expected so many people.

Seungcheol was the first to be alerted to your presence, taking a step back and glancing at you before back at his groupmate.

“Uhm Soonyoung, what is that?” he asked, alerting the others who were now trying to get around him to look at you. Another pained sound followed by a soft growl left your throat in response, causing a few of the boys to jump back. Soonyoung only smiled as he kneeled down to your height, scratching the top of your head affectionately. The action made you relax a bit but you still stayed tensed up beside him.

“Oh yeah, I found her on the street while on my way home, isn’t she adorable?” he asked. Soonyoung moved his hands to grip your head and rub his cheek against you affectionately like a child. It was cute and tickled meaning you probably would have laughed if not in your tiger form but you settled for nuzzling against him in response. Hushed whispers filled the room for a moment as the other members of Seventeen tried to process what they were seeing. On one hand they were thankful he didn’t get in to trouble, but he made them worry over nothing and now they had to deal with a random tiger hybrid that he dragged home with him.

“You’re telling me you came home late and gave us all a panic attack because you decided to steal a tiger off the street?” Seungcheol asked, staring at you as if you were some alien creature. Soonyoung huffed a bit and let go of you to glare up at his leader.

“I didn’t steal her, I rescued her! It was storming outside and she was alone trying to hide. I couldn’t just leave her there!” A bunch of the others shook their head and you gradually tried to sneak back to the door. As if being in a room with 13 strangers wasn’t intimidating enough, you got the feeling you weren’t welcome there.

“Hyung she’s a white tiger,” Jihoon pointed out, “there’s no way a hybrid that rare is running around freely. She probably has an owner looking for her.” Soonyoung pouted and was about to say something when Joshua cut him off.

“She doesn’t have a collar though, so that may imply she’s a stray,” he got a bit closer to try and inspect you. Kneeling down and keeping a safe distance to not scare you more as he tried to find any signs that would imply you had a home to go to.

“A stray as rare as her, in an area like this?” Jihoon argued back.

“Stray or not it’s not like I could just leave her out there,” Soonyoung spoke up, hugging you close to him, “look at her, she’s wet and shivering.”

“Poor things probably terrified since you dragged her to an unknown place with 13 strangers,” Wonwoo spoke up. This pretty much got all of the members talking over each other as they tried to figure out what to do. Basically dividing the dorm in half as some supported Soonyoung and others argued having you here was a bad idea. It was clear by now this arguing was getting nowhere and Soonyoung clearly wasn’t planning on letting you go. Seungcheol realized this and sighed, shaking his head as he tried to think of a compromise.

“Fine, how about this, she can stay with us for tonight but first thing tomorrow morning we’re going out to see if we can find her owner, deal?” Soonyoung glanced at you as he thought about it, rubbing your head again as he nodded.

“But if she doesn’t have anywhere to go can we keep her?” he asked, or more like pleaded.

“We don’t have the time or room to take care of a-” Seungcheol cut himself up when he saw Soonyoung, and possibly you, looking up at him with a begging expression, “we’ll talk about it.” Soonyoung lit up like a little kid before giggling and hugging you close to him.

“Come on Kitty, let's get you clean and dry! You can sleep in my room with me!” The other members didn’t get a chance to say anything before he was bounding down the hall to his room. Not knowing any of the others and not wanting to be left alone from your savor you quickly ran after him, catching up in a few steps. Meanwhile the rest of Seventeen was staring silently at the spot you had just been in, processing the rather theatrical scene that had just played out in front of them. They would deal with it in the morning though, all too tired to even think about explaining this whole thing.

The first thing you noticed as you followed Soonyoung was that the building he lived in was huge, possibly bigger than your previous homes. You supposed that made sense given he lived with twelve other guys but you had no idea how you were going to manage getting around without getting lost. That was of course with the hope that you would get to stay with him. You didn’t have anywhere else to go and, while you didn’t want to end up back on the street, you would run away before ending up at the shelter again. Besides, you really liked Soonyoung, something about him was comforting. He was nothing like your last owners, he actually seemed to care about you as a companion.

You followed Soonyoung for what felt like forever until he stopped at a door towards the back of the hall. He opened it and stepped inside, leaving you to stare at him through the door before he returned with a towel and change of clothes in his arms.

“This is my room,” he said as he motioned with his head to the room behind him. He led you two doors down before opening the next door to reveal the bathroom. It wasn’t overly luxurious or anything, but it was quite spacious and fairly clean which was nice. You cautiously followed him inside and he closed the door before setting everything down on the edge of the bathtub. “I don’t really know what size you are so hopefully these clothes fit you,” he said with a nervous giggle, “assuming you don’t want to stay in tiger form all night of course.” He scratched behind your ears for a second before nodding and pulling the shower curtain back so he could show you where everything was. “All the products in the corner are mine so feel free to use whatever you need. I don’t have any spare toothbrushes or anything but if you want to use my hairbrush or anything I’ll place that on the sink. I’ll be just down the hall in my room so just come back there when you’re done okay?” You glanced around for a moment before gently nodding which made him smile, rubbing your head one last time he gently left the bathroom. You can hear him hover around the door for a moment before leaving which was your cue to move.

For the first time in forever you shifted out of your tiger form, the cold tile was a shock against your bare skin but you ignored it. The satisfying feeling of stretching your limbs out and popping all stiff joints was preferable. How long had it been since you had been in this form? It had to have been at least a week or two by now. Very slowly you rose to your feet, using the sink to hold yourself up as your legs were shaking a bit before getting your balance and walking over to the door, locking it and stepping back to glance at yourself in the mirror. Your skin was fairly clean as opposed to your fur which was soaked and clearly greasy as it flew in all directions. Your ears twitched and you tried to run a hand through your hair before shaking your head and moving to get in the shower before you took too long.

To say the shower had been heaven was an understatement. You were finally able to relax and wash away all the dirt from the streets. The hot water also helped relax your tense muscles and clear your mind. You quickly finished washing up and stepped out of the shower, paying special attention to drying your hair and tail off before wrapping the towel around yourself and walking over to the sink. The white in your hair and fur was now vibrant again rather than a muted off white color, and you were able to brush it out with little struggle. The now wet strands fell into your eyes a bit, making you wince from the splashes of water before you brushed them back. Your once bright blue eyes were now clouded over from the cold and exhaustion and you could tell you had gotten a bit thinner than usual but that wasn’t something you wanted to think about. At least for the night, you had a home and you were going to savor every last second you had with Soonyoung.

Making sure everything was left exactly how you found it, you folded the towel and changed into the clothes Soonyoung gave you. It took a few quick adjustments to get them to fit over your frame as he was clearly bigger than you were but they worked and were comfortable for the time being. The clothing swallowed your figure and his scent invaded your senses which made you giggle as you unconsciously snuggled against the collar of his shirt.

You were a bit nervous about stepping out now that you weren’t fully a tiger but you knew you couldn’t hide forever. You knew it would have been more awkward and you took up less space this way.

Unlocking the door, you stuck your head out to make sure the coast was clear before slipping out and making your way back to Soonyoungs room. Knocking softly on the door, you slowly stepped inside and looked around the room. Soonyoung was laying on the bed, having already changed into his pajamas and dried himself off. There was a pile of blankets, pillows, snacks, and water on the bed and he was laying down playing on his phone, glancing up when he heard the door. His eyes glanced over you for a moment before he smiled and bounced around on the bed a bit.

“Awwwe look at you, aren’t you just the sweetest thing!” he exclaimed, resisting the urge to run over and just squeeze you. All you could do was giggle shyly and look down as your tail swayed behind you. Soonyoung hummed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at you as if you were the cutest thing he had ever laid eyes on. It made you shy and you tried pulling the shirt over your face to hide your red cheeks. “Please don’t hide from me!” he pouted, “I’m sorry you’re just too adorable, I’ll stop okay?” He waited for you to relax, slowly pulling the shirt back down to look at him. Soonyoung nodded and shifted to the side, patting the bed, “Come sit with me, I won’t bite.” You hummed softly before walking over, taking a seat beside him with a fair amount of space between you. “Hungry?” Soonyoung asked as he shuffled through the pile of snacks he brought, “it’s too late to make anything but I grabbed as many snacks as I could so help yourself.” You look over at everything and smile as you reach for one of the snacks. You didn’t know why he was being so generous, but you were beyond grateful for it. If it wasn’t for him you’d probably still be soaked and freezing on the street.

“Thank you,” you muttered, voice coming out much weaker than you intended, “for everything.” He seemed taken aback to hear your voice but he quickly regained himself, chuckling at you softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, just relax, you had a pretty rough night.” He grabbed one of the snacks for himself and you two ate in silence for a bit before Soonyoung spoke up again, “I know you are probably tired but can I ask you a few things? It would probably be easier to talk about it now rather than in the morning with the others around.” You weren’t too exactly sure what he meant but figured he was talking about them crowding you again like earlier so you nodded softly. “Well first off, can you tell me your name?” he asked.

“It’s Y/N,” you answer softly.

“Cute, that suits you,” he cooed, “how old are you?”

“Ummm they always said my age in cat years so I’m not sure.”

“Okay well,” he hummed in thought for a moment, “what is your birthday?” You swore you could see him light up when you told him, “So that means you’re younger than I am!” When you glance at him confused he laughed a bit, “I’m 27.” You made a small ‘oh’ expression before nodding and focusing back on your snack, your ear twitching slightly. “Why were you out on the street? Don’t you have a home to go to?” he asked hesitantly, making you freeze. When you didn’t answer he began to worry that he had said something wrong. The sound of you sighing cut him off before he could express those concerns.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go. My last home kicked me out a few weeks ago and I didn’t want to end up back in a shelter so I just kind of wandered around until you found me,” your tail wrapped around you protectively as you spoke. Soonyoung was silent as he looked at you, pouting a bit as he didn’t know what to do. Cautiously he reached his arm out, pulling you into a hug when you didn’t shy away from his touch. You chuffed softly and nuzzled against him as he rubbed your arm gently.

“Why would anyone kick out such a precious hybrid?” Soonyoung thought out loud. When you didn’t respond he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Seungcheol is going to make us go to the shelter tomorrow to double check that you’re a stray. I’m sure once we talk to him and the others though that we’ll convince them to let you stay. It may be a bit tricky but we can work it out I’m sure!” He sounded so hopeful that you found yourself wanting to believe him, glancing up at him with wide eyes.

“Do you really think so?” you asked, just as hopeful.

“I know so!” he assured you, “if you want to stay with us of course, I promise we’ll give you a fun and loving home.” Your expression lit up and you couldn’t help but throw yourself at him in a tight hug.

“Thank you! Thank you! I would love that!” you squealed, hugging him tighter. Soonyoung chuckled,

“Of course, now it’s getting late so why don’t we go to bed? Are you comfortable sharing a bed with me?” though you didn’t really have to answer since cuddling against him was answer enough. You got into bed first, curling around the spare pillow he gave you as Soonyoung put everything aside and got the extra blanket before climbing into bed beside you. “Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered, scratching behind your ear softly.

“Goodnight Soonyoung.”

You were woken up suddenly the next morning with the sound of crashing from outside of the room. Startling and jumping up from your original spot curled up against Soonyoung. Clearly he was used to the noise as it was you jumping that woke him up rather than the commotion of his members. He slowly got up with a yawn, rubbing his eyes before looking over at you with a tired smile.

“Did they wake you up?” he asked, voice a bit thicker from sleep. When you nodded he shook his head with an airy laugh. “Sorry about that, we can get pretty crazy, and we’re on break right now so everyone has a lot of pent up energy.” You just blinked at him and yawned as you tried to wake up, watching Soonyoung as he got up. “You can stay in bed if you want, I can just bring you breakfast after I get ready?” You thought about it before shaking your head and slowly climbing out of bed. If there was even remotely a chance that you would get to live with these guys, you would have to get used to them. Soonyoung seemed a bit relieved when he saw you were willing to interact with his members. “Alright, I am going to get dressed real quick, you can stay in here or feel free to look around. I’m sure some of the members would want to meet you.” With that, he left the room with the door slightly cracked open.

You thought about it for a moment, pacing back and forth as you listened to the commotion outside. Being alone quickly got boring though and you took nervous steps towards the door, hesitating for a moment to calm your heart before stepping out and into the hall. You couldn’t see anyone immediately so you followed the sound of the commotion to the living area. You could hear some members in their rooms but didn’t want to bother them, tail tucking between your legs as you entered the living room.

Some of the members were on the couch watching a show that didn’t interest you in the slightest. It seems some of them were arguing over a phone which was the cause of the commotion as they were play fighting and running into things. You instinctively stepped back due to the commotion despite the fact that they were nowhere near you. A little bit away you could smell food and hear talking which told you there were more people in the kitchen. Suddenly the whole place felt crowded, making you whimper a bit and back away in hopes that none of them had seen you. Though it seems your sudden noise alerted the members to your presence, the commotion settling as they all turned to stare at you.

You bit at your lip and curled in a bit on yourself as they all stared at you, giving a sense of Deja vu from the night before. No one said anything as your awkward stare down with five males continued. A few of them mumbling things about you and what they were supposed to do now that you were here. Still, they never spoke to you and you suddenly felt strangely foreign and unwelcome. Deciding waiting for Soonyoung would be a better idea you quickly turned to run back to your room, only to freeze when you heard a voice.

“Guys stop staring, you’re scaring her!” turning back, you saw one of the more familiar faces from last night gently approach you. He had a soft smile and tried to make himself look as non threatening as possible, bending down a bit so you were both eye level. “Good morning,” he greeted softly, “I didn’t get to talk to you last night, my name is Joshua.” His voice and gentle aura helped you calm down and you smiled up at him shyly.

“I remember you, I’m Y/N,” some of the others seemed to perk up hearing you speak, trying to get closer but Joshua shooed them away.

“It’s nice to meet you! So Y/N, are you hungry at all? We were just about to finish breakfast so you can come help until Soonyoung is ready?” You nodded softly which made him smile. Joshua led you to the kitchen by hovering an arm over your shoulder, using his other hand to keep away the others who were still staring you down. “Ignore them,” he whispered once he sensed your discomfort, “they’re just being nosey.” You walked with him to the kitchen, the smell of food making your mouth water and your tail sway. You hadn’t had a proper meal in so long so the smell was heavenly. There were two others in the kitchen with you, both of them turning to glance at you for a moment while still focusing on what they were doing. At least they weren’t staring you down like everyone else.

“Here sit down,” Joshua urged as he pulled up a chair that allowed you to watch them without being in the way, “do you need water or anything?” You shook your head which made him laugh a bit, “You don’t talk very much do you?”

“She may just be shy, we can be pretty intimidating,” the one closest to him teased before looking at you, “I’m Mingyu by the way, the one over there is Jun-hyung.” Jun looked up long enough to smile at you but didn’t say anything. You muttered their names a bit under your breath in an attempt to remember them, though trying to recall the names of 13 people would probably give you quite a headache.

You watched them cook in silence, occasionally perking up to see what they were doing or when something smelled particularly good. The guys noticed and would laugh at your cute antics, occasionally muttering a soft “cute” or asking you questions to try to engage you. Jun also managed to sneak you a few tastes of meat as a “quality check” which annoyed Joshua a bit but he didn’t comment on it. Soonyoung appeared right when they were getting everything ready to serve. Immediately he made his way over to you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“There you are Y/N, I was wondering where you ran off to,” he said. You giggled and made a low humming noise as he scratched at your head.

“Don’t worry she was keeping us company,” Joshua assured, the others nodding. You couldn’t see Soonyoungs expression but he was smiling wider than humanly possible that you were getting along with some of the members. If they liked you, then maybe they would let you stay. That was the plan at least.

Breakfast was awkward though as all of the members began piling into the kitchen. Feeling crowded, you stayed hidden behind Soonyoung the entire time. You clung to him like your life depended on it, occasionally peeking over his shoulder or reaching around to grab food before retreating to hide behind him again. Any time one of them tried to talk to you, you could only answer with short answers or not at all due to nerves. Soonyoung and Joshua tried to direct some of the attention off of you to make you more comfortable but it only did so much. On the bright side, you were slowly beginning to learn who the rest of the guys were, taking notes of certain features to try and memorize who was who. It was after everyone had cleaned up and left to do their own thing that Seungcheol approached you and Soonyoung.

“I hate to bring things down, but we should probably start heading to the shelter,” he said, albeit a bit cautiously. Both of you visibly deflated which caused him to sigh, “Remember what we talked about last night, either way we would need to go and you know that.” Soonyoung sighed and nodded, trying to stand up only for you to latch onto his arm. You didn’t want to go to the shelter, you wanted to stay. What if they decided that they didn’t want you and left you there? The thought made you tear up a bit as you clung to him.

“Do we really have to go?” you pleaded, “I don’t want to go back to the shelter, I want to stay with you!” Soonyoung frowned and softened at your actions, gently shaking you off his arm before hugging you gently. Seungcheol stayed quiet and stared at you both awkwardly, not knowing how to feel about this whole thing. Of course he felt bad for you seeing how attached you seem to be already, and he had told Soonyoung they’d think about adopting you. However they were idols and could barely take care of themselves at times. In the rare chance that you were a stray, how were they supposed to manage you living with them? Financial and time factors set aside, you would have to learn to get along with 13 housemates with different personalities. There was no way that would be a good idea.

“It’ll be quick Kitty I promise,” Soonyoung assured, shushing you and petting your hair to calm you down. Seungcheol sighed and glanced out the window before returning his attention back to the two of you. Why did this have to be so complicated?

“We just need to make sure you’re alright,” he assured, smiling at you softly. That seemed to convince you and you nodded softly. Keeping a grip on Soonyoungs hand, you followed the two of them out of the dorm and out to the waiting car.

Stepping into the shelter gave you major flashbacks, shrinking behind both males as you approached the counter. A bit of talking and a few questions for Soonyoung and you were reluctantly being led into the back where the hybrid rooms were. You were directed into the closest one, taking a seat on the freshly made cot and staring at the wall as you were examined. “Alright, I just need to ask you a few questions and we’ll be done, okay?” the shelter tech asked. You nodded softly, not taking your attention off the wall as you answered to the best of your abilities.

The whole chair was basically shaking with Soonyoung as he bounced his leg impatiently. Seungcheol was beside him and trying to distract him with small talk but gave up and decided to play on his phone instead. Every what-if question was running through Soonyoungs head as he tried to prepare for the worst case scenario while also hoping for the best.

The younger practically leaped out of his seat when the tech walked into the room, bowing softly to them both before taking a seat at the desk.

“You guys are here regarding Y/N correct?” they asked, humming when the males nodded, “were you interested in a potential adoption or just surrendering her to us?”

“Adoption!” Soonyoung perked up before Seungcheol could say anything, causing the older to groan. The tech gave them a confused look before continuing.

“Well if you are interested in an adoption it is possible. Our records indicate her last home surrendered ownership a few weeks ago. As the one who rescued her you would have the rights of ownership first, you would just have to fill out the paperwork and pass a few evaluations.” Soonyoung got visibly excited by this but Seungcheol decided to speak up before he could get too ahead of herself.

“What exactly would the paperwork and evaluations be?” he asked.

“Wild hybrids, especially rare breeds require a bit more special care so we need to make sure you guys would be a good match. Aside from the legal paperwork we need to assess things like financial status, home condition, and given Y/Ns condition we need to analyze her health and behavior to see if she has any special needs. Overall just to make sure that you and the hybrid will be safe and happy to prevent anything from happening.” There was silence as both males thought it over.

“How long would all of this take?” Soonyoung asked.

“Once everything is filled out probably a day or two, you guys could come back and complete the adoption process as soon as you are approved.” Soonyoungs heart dropped when he realized that meant that, no matter what, you would be stuck here for a few days. He had promised you could stay with him and he was starting to feel like he was breaking that promise. Before he could say anything though, Seungcheol was grabbing his hand and speaking again.

“We have a few roommates we need to discuss this with, could we come back tomorrow to fill everything out if we decide to?” He asked. Getting the confirmation that they could, he thanked the tech before walking out. Easier said than done though as he had to drag out a protesting Soonyoung. The younger male whining and pulling against his leader as he kept muttering his promise that he would come back as if you would be able to hear him.

“Stay strong Y/N, I promise I’ll be back soon!”

Taglist: @jhuily @feedthefandoms995 @hosh1kwon @heyyheli @symptoms-of-moonlight @sohnfile @lilactangerine @chxrrypxp @heesung-lover686 @joshuahxgf @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh @ssamie @calumsfringe @cchewhaz (retagging from original upload)

To be added or removed from Horanghaes taglist please comment or message me

338 notes · View notes

thehistoriangirl · 8 months

Text

The Tides Have Veiled [Seven]

This is a loong one so buckle up!

Viktor x Fem!Reader--Gothic AU/Spooky Sea--4.7K---SFW

> M A S T E R L I S T < ← Previous // Next →

Synopsis: Piltover the Old has an old lighthouse that looms over an abandoned port. From the house in the wailing cliff’s edge, the lighthouse owner watches that the beacon is being lighten up each time darkness arrives, so that monsters wouldn't dare to crawl inland, or so legends say. Both buildings are haunted, maybe even the man himself, by both past and present ghosts. Surprisingly, the keeper’s work is beyond turning on the beacon every night— but the rest is on you to discover.

Summary: You arrive at the city, knowing that once you return by the sea, things will have changed. For the better of for worse? That's on you to decide.

Taglist: @lunar-monster @bittercyder @local-mr-frog

Chapter Seven: The Sea's Call [Pt. 1]

The air far from the coast was colder and thinner, and yet the whole ride toward the city felt just as asphyxiating and dense inside the tiny carriage that bumped away at every second on the unpaved road.

Viktor pretended to read the whole time, even when you doubted he could make sense of the words with how much the carriage seemed to jump around. But the façade was welcomed because you didn’t wish he could see the way you fidgeted with the hem of the sweater that was too long for you to wear.

Knitted in wavy patterns, teal blue as if you’d wished to take a part of Piltover the Old with you now that the roar of the sea was too far away to be heard, replaced by white noise, the still breath of Viktor echoing in the quiet ambiance.

You had forgotten to scrub your hands well enough, some stains of oil staining the reverse of your palms. Viktor helped you maintain the electrical system of the lighthouse, Surveying the beacon will keep the light up day and night for consecutive three days.

Part of you prickled with curiosity, wanting to know why it was so important to turn on the lighthouse beacon, but besides the very peculiar circumstances of your messy relationship with Viktor, you found yourself shying away when the question wished to pour out your lips.

Ever since the footprints went toward Viktor's bedroom, a thought haunted the back of your mind when the world became quiet, when all you had to do was to watch toward the sea, toward all the ghosts and creatures that seemed to become more solid the more you thought about them.

You didn’t wish to know—and part of you claimed it was a terrible idea to get tied to this man, to the owner of the claimed haunted house by the cliff.

But was it, truly? Could it be… a you problem? Instead of all the legends coming true, it could be your mind invocating them to life to distract you from your unstable situation, suspended midway from jumping off into the endless void.

You decided to nap, at least try to, the bumpy road not helping to lull you. Though inside the dreamlands your inner warning still reached you; in the form of a misty evening with the water rising at the coast, with nowhere to go.

There, you were one of the specimens in Viktor’s studio in the basement, trapped in a tidepool first, and then forever in formaldehyde. You hoped this marriage wouldn’t corner you to such destiny.

You closed that door, opening the next, this one deeper into your subconscious. Everything floated and swayed in a calm current, lulled by the chants of the waves crashing over a golden shore filled with broken shells; there you could lay on the cool sand and stargaze when the moon turned the water liquid silver.

“Miss?” A voice said, and you were about to open your mouth to invite them to watch the night sky, when a hand touched your shoulder, gently shaking it. “Miss, we’ve arrived.”

Your eyes opened, golden eyes gazing down at you. Viktor’s lips curved in an apologetic smile. You had barely slept ever since your haunting experience inside his house.

You nodded, finding that your hands were trying to comb your hair, so used to the humid air of the sea that down it felt dry and without volume. Viktor exited the carriage once he was sure you were awake, hands reaching inside his pocket to retrieve the key to enter the building in front of you. His figure disappeared into the luminous foyer as the driver helped carry the luggage up the stairs, barely two identical suitcases as Viktor had to lend you one.

Minutes later, Viktor got outside. You caught a glimpse of his hands folding a ticket inside the breast pocket of his jacket. He stood at the door of the carriage, extending his hand toward you.

You took his hand, jumping out of the vehicle. Your steps were wobbly, like a newborn fawn. Cobblestone welcomed your feet, steady and solid contrary to the sand that tried to suck you underneath over the beach dunes. You heard chatter echoing in the busy streets, another lulling rhythm replacing the waves, both just as never-ending.

Looking around, you took in the tall buildings with wide windows open to take the afternoon breeze, curtains dancing ghostly melodies against the wind. The city smelled like oil and smoke, like newly baked bread and strong coffee. It felt alive.

Some puddles of rain reflected on your face as you gazed down at the flicking reflections of you mixed with the landscape. Almost meant to be.

“Come inside,” Viktor told you, taking some money from his pocket at seeing the driver coming down the flight of stairs, tilting his hat to Viktor to inform him the luggage was placed at the entrance of the apartment. “It’s getting colder out here.”

You were torn between letting go of his hand to walk down the street, the coffee shop on the other side cozy, and warmth from all the people talking and laughing inside.

Viktor seemed to follow your gaze because he smiled. "We can go there once we eat a strong meal first. Their fruitcake is delicious. But it won’t make you any good to eat dessert first, would it?”

“Why is that?” you inquired, following him inside the house. Three floors were divided into an apartment each without counting with the restaurant on the ground floor, the main landing flooded with a drooling smell of stews and grilled meat. “Talking from experience?”

Viktor chuckled. “Most certainly.” He looked up at the stairs in front of both of you and sighed, one of his hands grabbing the metal rail and he propelled his weight up.

“You can lean on me if you want,” you said, just by instinct.

“It’s easier with the rail,” Viktor reassured you, looking back at you with the smallest of smiles. “But thank you for the offer, Miss.”

His apartment was nothing like the gloomy house near the sea. This one brimmed with life; pale yellow walls showed countless chalkboards and boards filled with papers and drawings, polished wood floorboards there where fluffy carpets didn’t cover it. A large couch tucked between a bookshelf and a coffee table had a couple of blankets thrown in the backrest, cushions pilled up to where you supposed, he laid back in the afternoons to keep working.

Viktor cleared his throat at your wandering eyes. “My apologies for the… eh, the clutter. I'm not used to having visitors."

Hardly could you be called that, after everything. Though you kept the thought to yourself.

Besides, you had helped him tidy up the house, so you thought he didn’t have a particular reason to feel embarrassed. “Don’t worry. You can’t do many chores when you’re this busy. I imagine.”

He nodded, his bare feet muffled by the wood as he left his shoes in a rack by the door, walking toward what seemed to be the kitchen. You slid the luggage inside, taking your boots off before closing it.

Viktor returned with a glass of water for you. “The food will be here shortly,” he said, gesturing for you to follow him across the hallway. "Sadly, I don't have a guest room here either. I will be sleeping on the couch; you can take the master bedroom.”

You looked at him, almost horrified. Shame and fear washing at you—you remembered quite well what occurred when you took his bedroom before.

“I sleep there most nights, you don’t have to worry about it.” As if you needed confirmation from the nest of blankets and pillows on the couch, he opened a door, turning up a lamp to reveal the bedroom. Contrary to the piles of books and papers, and the closet ajar with some clothes thrown inside carelessly, the bed was practically untouched besides some wrinkles in the side next to the closet.

“You can change if you want,” Viktor continued. “I will be in the living room if you need something. The bathroom is at the end of the hallway.”

He closed the door once you and your luggage were inside. Carefully, you sat at the edge, feeling the cozy carpet underneath the bed brushing your toes, as soft as sand, the fluffiness of the duvet, and how your body sunk into the mattress. Looking around, you saw the pairs of shoes Viktor had tossed in the bottom level of a vanity with no stool. You left your things there; hairbrush and tiny bottles of shampoo and soap, toothpaste, and toothbrush. You had brought the shell, too.

The next thing you did was rummage in your luggage to take your clothes off it and use the cloth hook behind the door to hang your dress.

Your wedding dress, you thought as you bit your lips.

It wasn’t white, but rather a yellowish ivory with details in gold that time, and abandonment had only got more yellow. It had been your mother’s, watched over by your grandmother until you were old enough to wear it without dragging the skirts. Of course, it wasn't supposed to be the one you wore to whatever wedding your family was planning for you, but rather just another one of the puzzle pieces of memories of the life you couldn’t have.

Shaking your head, you changed into the first clothes you saw; an old green dress that you tied with a belt as the hem had become too loose over the uncountable washes, that’s why the sleeves would sometimes slip away from your shoulders if you moved too much. But the fabric was thick enough from the slightly cold air of the city, and you weren’t meant to explore the suburbs until tomorrow, after the wedding.

Looking at your reflection in the vanity, you nodded at yourself—more for gathering courage rather than in an approbatory way. Then you tiptoed outside the room, hearing Viktor mumbling to himself as he hurriedly tried to clean the living room.

He looked at you with surprise, almost as if he had forgotten you were supposed to be there, before gesturing to the kitchen. "The food arrived. Feel free to serve yourself, I will be there in a second.”

You walked toward him, looking at the myriad of books lying around, from physics to folklore tales and history, to biology and engineering. Part of you felt relieved at seeing that Viktor was so knowledgeable. If there was someone to help you study to enter the University, that was him.

“I can help you clean,” you offered, taking the folklore book, some papers falling at your feet. “Uh. I’m sorry.” You crouched, piling the pages and putting them inside the book. It seemed old, with yellow pages and the spine almost unattached. Scribbled on the front page was a name.

“Don’t worry,” Viktor said, fingers taking the book away from you before you could read the dedicatory. “You can eat first, I’m not very hungry yet. The journey made me feel motion sickness.”

You blinked, embarrassed that he may be driving you away due to your nosiness. “Oh, alright then.” Then he also couldn’t read while in the carriage. That would mean he was trying to ignore you or to pretend doing something else to avoid making you feel nervous. But little mattered, you thought as you walked inside the kitchen, a bowl with beef stew and bittersweet chicken accompanied with white rice laid in porcelain plates flanked by a jar filled with orange juice.

You sat, alone in the still space of the kitchen, with only momentaneous echoes of Viktor’s steps as he moved around on the other side of the wall.

He appeared around an hour later when he heard you turning on the water to clean the dishes. Viktor settled next to you, taking a towel to clean them as he put them away on the cupboard.

"I went downstairs to buy some bread," he announced to you, signaling to the paper bag lying on the table. "I hope you like chocolate."

*~*~*~*

You sat on the missing stool of the vanity, Viktor settling in a chair next to you.

The balcony was a small cube, some lines of rope filled with empty clothespins. It couldn't overlook the city that well, with Viktor's department being only on the second floor rather than the last, but you liked the view anyway.

Catching glimpses of golden windows open despite the sudden drizzle tapping the roof, you saw blinks of life; a table filled with food with a family surrounding it, a woman painting on her living room, and even a cat lazily lying in the backrest of a couch.

You hoped that this scene, with Viktor next to you and a tiny glass table filled with desserts and coffee could look just as inviting. Just as real.

“Do you like it?” Viktor asked, and you knew he didn’t mean the sweet, braided swirl chocolate bread he had bought you.

“I’ve never seen so many things before,” you said, blowing into your cup of coffee. “It feels… alive.”

Viktor chuckled. “Sometimes too alive.” He shrugged. “But I understand. Piltover the Old is… well, old. Both the architecture and the people made you believe as if you'd been trapped in time there that when you get out, it feels as if things move too fast.”

You looked at him. “You don’t like the city,” you pointed out instead of asking.

His golden eyes didn’t meet yours anymore. “It has its charms.”

“Do you miss back home? The sea?” Part of you felt as if it would be hard to sleep without the constant roar of the ocean surrounding you.

Viktor reclined on his seat, barely taking crumbs out of his slice of fruitcake. “If I can be honest with you, I don’t think I’ve ever considered myself at home,” he said softly. “Not here, not there.”

You interlaced your fingers in your lap. “I feel the same way,” you confessed, not wanting him to feel embarrassed. “Of course, this is the first time that I leave Piltover the Old, but…" You shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose one day I will be able to be somewhere and just feel the pull. The realization that I’m finally home.”

Viktor smiled, his eyes sweeping over the city landscape. “I feel the same way, Miss.” Taking his cup of coffee, he extended it toward yours. “I hope we can both find such a call, someday."

The porcelain clinked together when you cheered, the noise like bells staying much longer than it was supposed to.

*~*~*~*

Unknown to you, that night was the best rest you’d have in so long. Encountering you dumbfounded once Viktor knocked on your door the next morning, his thick morning accent poured into your sleepy brain telling you that it was almost 8 AM.

“I’m awake,” you told him, voice groggy.

“Can I come in?” Viktor said, and any remnants of sleep evaporated from your mind. “I didn’t take my suit out yesterday.”

Oh. Of course. Looking at your dress, you nodded. But he couldn’t see your nod with the door closed. “Yes, of course.” The blankets were soft and smelled like soap when you covered yourself with them, peeking at his figure wearing mismatched pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt when he entered.

He looked once at you, nodding thankfully as he made his way toward the closet, eyes glued on everything but you. Between the friction of hooks and clothes, he produced a brown suit jacket with some pants folded underneath, the color so dark for a moment you thought it was black.

From another hanger, he grabbed a cream vest and a white dress shirt. Viktor turned, closing the closet doors before backtracking. “Eh, yes, yes. The tie,” he mumbled, looking at you from the corner of his eye, cheeks slightly red from having witnessed of his self-chatting.

Tossing a red tie atop the clothes hugged against his chest, he turned back to the exit. “I will be going now—” Viktor started, looking at the dress that had been hiding behind the door. “That is such a pretty dress, Miss,” he commented, looking up and down at it before turning the knob open.

“Thank you. It was my mother’s.”

He looked at you, his stance frozen on the threshold. “Have you ever imagined her in your wedding?” Viktor asked tentatively.

“I’ve never imagined I’d get married by my volition, so no. Not really.” What was the point anyway? “Death can’t return her to me anyway.” But part of you hoped that somehow, somewhere, she could be a little bit proud of seeing you here, in the city she inhabited before the sea called her back.

You didn’t even know if you wanted to have her with you. Would she have lied to you like your family did to protect you?

“If she was a student in the University, then there has to be some registers about her in the archive,” Viktor told you. “We can go there later. What do you say?”

Your aunt's words drilled into your skull, making your heart squeeze painfully. An unknown father, a mother given to the sea. A childhood filled with lies.

“No, it’s alright.” You forced a smile. “Maybe on another occasion.”

His golden eyes froze in your face, eyebrows furrowed just slightly, just for a moment. “Very well. I will let you change, then. We’re meant to leave to the notary in an hour.”

The mental clock ticking by his words didn’t help with your nerves, but you thanked him nevertheless. Not even the cold bath could soothe you, taking double the time to slip inside the dress and try to reach the tiny buttons aligned at your back.

Now it dawned on you the curiosity of why your mother had a wedding dress. Seeing you dressed in it, you pictured her twirling in a mirror on a boutique, a dreamy smile on an unknown face as she hoped to walk down the aisle toward your father, perhaps. Another faceless person it didn’t matter to grieve about.

Or so you tried to convince yourself.

What a useless thing to long for something it never was.

You entered the living room, Viktor sitting in front of the coffee table as he ate tiny bites of a slice of toasted bread covered with yogurt, the smell of newly made coffee flooding from the open door of the kitchen, a half-empty bowl of sliced fruit next to yours that was still completely covered in a mountain of sliced strawberry, peach, and pear.

He must’ve woken up around two hours ago if he had prepared all this and finished dressing already. The only thing missing was his jacket and his shoes which were aligned at the doormat entrance, files of the needed papers ready to go over the bookshelf.

You sat next to him, his fingers grazing yours when he passed you the breakfast. From the purplish eyebags adorning his golden eyes, you thought it was a mercy he had so many things to prepare in the morning, allowing him to get up instead of rolling away, trying with no luck to catch slumber.

You ate in silence, feeling your throat strained with nervousness. Quickly, you both shared the bathroom to brush your teeth, Viktor leaving you alone as you finished preparing.

Finally, around 9:26 AM, Viktor gazed at you when you walked toward the entrance door of the apartment, finding it weird to see his hair brushed back, with barely some locks poking rebelliously against his brow.

“The dress suits you,” he commented on your way down the stairs. “If you’d allow me to say that.”

Your steps faltered. “Oh, that’s right!” you exclaimed, waiting for him to descend all the stairs. “Can you help me button it up? I just missed the middle buttons.”

Viktor chuckled, gesturing you to turn around in the empty corner of the landing. It was too late for the rest of the residents to linger in their houses on a weekday. He gave you his cane to hold, his hands brushing your back slightly as he pinched the buttons inside the grommets.

You took in his presence, feeling his warmth bathing you, the essence of his shampoo smelling like a fresh breeze sweeping by the coast.

“There you go,” Viktor muttered, his breath moving the hair around your ear. You shivered, walking away from him. “Are you cold?” he asked, blinking with confusion knitting his eyebrows. “I can give you my jacket—”

“No, no.” You raised the unmatching muddy green coat and hugged it against your chest as if he could feel how your heart was picking up speed if you didn't. “I have this.”

Yanking the door open, you hoped the cold morning could calm down the frenetic rhythm reverberating in your ears, but it was all in vain when you ended up sitting next to him in what Viktor told you, was called a trolley car. The movement of the vehicle stopping and starting again at each public stop made your body press against him as the strange train moved its way up the city.

“The University is here,” Viktor chatted, trying to soothe your nerves as he fiddled with the handle of his cane. He pointed to the glass, where you could see a big, gothic-like building hiding the sun behind its high towers. People were walking inside, its courtyard made of neatly cut grass and tiny trees. All of them held books as they walked, both alone and in animated groups toward the cobblestone path that connected a pair of double doors with the outside. "This is the main building, but the rest of the faculties are behind it. You can't see it all from here."

“It’s gigantic,” you said, trying to take in all the details as the car moved away.

“Indeed it is. You have to be careful not to lose in the hallways,” he chuckled. “Or you’ll be late to class.”

"Where does the entrance exam take place?"

Viktor signaled out the window again. “In the main building.” His hand hovered over yours, interlaced on your lap. This time, he poked one with his finger. “You’ll see it for yourself soon enough.”

Embarrassed, you giggled. “I hope so.”

“Have more faith in yourself,” Viktor added, leaning slightly against you so your shoulder brushed his. “I believe you can do it.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Viktor…” you said in a hushed tone to not wake up the working man next to you, his uniform covered in coal and oil from his shift in a factory. “Thank you. For trusting me.”

Your gazes connected, and it felt as if he could rival the morning sun, the gold in his eyes twinkling like pools of honey poured in a teacup; reassuring and warmth.

"Couldn't be any other way."

*~*~*~*

The notary had a tiny chapel, barely decorated with candles whose wax had made them amorph, some of them cocooned in hollow wax ponds. The red carpet where you walked down the aisle alongside Viktor was worn out and thin, but neither of your steps faltered, the official papers tucked in a file under his arm.

You don’t have to do this, you repeated Viktor’s words, as you’d been doing ever since you entered this seemingly deserted building on a Wednesday morning, hand in his. But you wanted to, thrill pooling in a chaos inside your belly that almost felt like fluttering. Of all the scenes you could picture a marriage in, this was the most interesting. Almost funny how surreal it was.

You would've been so lucky if this was sincere, a childish part of you longed.

But it wasn’t, and foolish was it to lament for things that never were.

The officiant smiled at you two, Viktor taking your hands into his as he asked him if he could give you two his blessing—as no other one could.

You took in a deep breath, pride filling your stomach now that you could do something your mother yearned for. Fulfilling another’s dream, but your way.

His golden eyes sparkled with the dancing flames of the candles, his fingers interlaced with yours as he looked down at you, the officiant’s voice echoing in the empty seats and closed doors.

“Will you have Y/N to be your wife? To love her, comfort, and keep, and forsaking all others remain true to her, as long as you both shall live?”

Viktor nodded, looking from the pastor to you. “I will.” The squeeze of his hand made your eyes swept away, the room getting too hot from all the candles lit and no windows open.

“I promise to keep you safe even when the storm is raging outside,” Viktor said, his tone gentle yet confident. Just as his muttered words of solace back at the cliff. “To accompany you in each dreary night watch, for I will be here as long as you need me to.”

You felt a lump in your throat that made it difficult to breathe without having your voice broken.

"Thank you," you couldn't stop from saying, which made him smile. His thumb brushed away a stray tear running down your cheek.

“Will you have Viktor to be your husband? To love him, comfort, and keep, and forsaking all others remain true to him, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do—I will,” you said, finding your throat dry. Viktor nodded, encouraging you silently. “I take you as my husband. To be your best friend when you’re seeking a friend. To light up the way back home if you ever get lost. I’ll be there, always.”

His gaze was hard to read, brows pinched and eyes squinting, blinking away in a tender smile. “Thank you, love,” Viktor said.

The officiant had the papers laid over the table, his pen scribbling away at the paper the complete names of you both. You glanced at the words Viktor Ambroz right next to yours when it was your turn to sign the papers.

“For the power given to me, I declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride, young man. Congratulations.”

The officiant busied himself with registering the marriage in his ledgers, Viktor right in front of you. His eyes said the same plea repeating in your mind, you don’t have to do this.

But you nodded nevertheless, looking back at the officiant as if saying that it would be weird if you didn’t kiss.

In reality, you were curious about what would happen next. Finding refuge in the dimming room, Viktor couldn’t see your flustered expression if he proceeded, nor your unfiltered hurt if he chose not to.

Viktor took in a deep breath, taking your hands into his as he pulled you slightly closer, cold fingers brushing your trembling ones. His eyes seemed to read your soul from how close they were, speckles of amber and brown mixed on his irises, honey, and chocolate that felt just as sweet when he gazed down at your lips.

Suddenly shy, you closed your eyes, feeling the brush of his eyelashes when he did the same.

He leaned in and brushed his lips with yours, barely a fleeting motion, the friction making you dizzy. Viktor stayed there a second too long, or so you thought, the world seemed to stop, just as your breath and your heartbeat.

A gasp rippled through his chest when he pulled away, the orange hue of the candles letting you see the wild red blush creeping from his ears down his neck.

The officiant gave you the papers, a beam as he congratulated you both once again.

“Let’s go, my dear, We have the whole day ahead of us to celebrate.” He smiled, taking your hand to drag you away.

If the officiant found it weird that any of you had said 'I love you', to each other, he didn't comment on it, the register was sealed official by his signature, filled with already dried ink. All opportunities of turning back were now locked away in the corresponding ledger, the leather book put inside the archive where the shadows would watch over it from the time being.

#arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor arcane x you #arcane viktor x you #viktor x reader arcane #arcane viktor x fem! reader #arcane x female reader #arcane viktor fanfic #viktor arcane fic #viktor arcane fanfic

42 notes · View notes

cryptids · 11 months

Text

I think it's been about like 3-4 years now since I resolved to try and leave a comment on every fic I enjoy enough to read all the way through to the end, and I do pretty much all of them (the few exceptions are always when I'm reading before bed and accidentally fall asleep then forget to do it lmao) So uhhh.... for no particular reason, here are some things I've learned over time? This is just me personally though so ymmv of course.

It becomes a lot easier to think of what to say after you've been doing it for a while. At first I used to really struggle with what to write and putting stuff into words?? But is easy for me now.

The commenting itself also becomes a habit after some time and stops feeling like something that takes significant extra effort. It's just second nature now and really does feel easier.

I only get a response from the authors on maybe like.... 1/5th?? Of the comments I leave. It can be disheartening at first (especially when it's a really long or heartfelt comment that took you ages to write) bc it feels like the writer isn't seeing it and you're just posting into the void lmao. My only advice is just to try not to let it discourage you... I know a lot of writers don't reply bc they're shy or aren't sure what to say, or they intend to and forget, or they just haven't checked that account in years. Tbh I just figured there's no way to know if my comment will be seen, but it's worth leaving them anyway bc the times they are appreciated always makes up for it like tenfold.

If you can't think of much to say or don't have the energy, simple stuff like "I loved this" or even just some heart emojis still seem to be appreciated in my experience.

Please don't feel too embarassed to leave comments on super old fics!! I've commented on some fics from 10+ years ago, and gotten delighted responses from their authors who were super happy to know people still enjoyed them.

Please don't feel embarassed to be the first commenter on a fic either. This could just be bc I'm always in rarepair hell but I can't even tell you how many fics I'm the singular comment under, even ones that have a lot of kudos and bookmarks. I promise its not weird to be the only person in a comment section, and yours might encourage others.

Making an account makes things quicker and easier than having to put your info in for anon comments each time. I have an empty ao3 account I use only for commenting and bookmarking, I recommend that for anyone else like me who is not a writer themselves.

I'm not bothering with "don't comment rude or entitled things" type of points or "how to write/structure a comment" bc there's already a lot of posts like that from fic writers, this is just some things from the pov of a regular commenter that I learned through my experience.

I think my final thing worth saying is that if you have any anxiety issues with feeling self conscious like I do, you might worry a lot that you're "being annoying" by leaving comments (especially if you end up leaving multiple by commenting on different chapters). But I've expressed this worry to a number of writers over the years and all of them have told me that its actually the opposite to annoying and they love it. So please let their words reassure you as well gsjshdjs

#🐊#long rambling post nobody asked for lmao #but if anyone else is wanting to start commenting more often maybe some of this will be helpful;;;

61 notes · View notes

dutchvanwinkle · 1 year

Text

Mr Van der Linde Pt. 5 - Dutch x Reader

Hello again darlings! I hope those of you celebrating Easter / Ramadam / Passover are having a wonderful weekend, did you know this overlap only happens three times every century? How cool is that!! Whether you're observing a holiday or not, it's now time for us to all come together and fantasize about daddy Dutch :)

I would apologise for the wait between this chapter and the last, but I did say this fic would be relatively slow in updates. I wrote a good chuck of this chapter then decided I hated it, took some time away from it, came back, then realised it wasn't as bad as I'd made out in my head lol. It's a pretty fluffy one tbh, and even if it's not as long as the previous one I hope you still enjoy!

It's on ao3, too!

Summary: Your relationship with Dutch deepens when you spend more time with him after a stressful week.

Word count: 6,471

Content warnings: smut, mildly creepy dutch

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Despite everyone’s knowledge of the end of the academic year, not one of your group of friends took the responsibility of arranging the flat for you to all live in together for second year. So, once again, you and Karen were in the same one - with John, Abigail, Sean, and Javier across the hall in theirs. You didn’t mind much; you were all too deep in the habit of leaving your flats unlocked anyway so the others could wander in should they please. It was dumb, but you hadn’t been robbed yet and imagined that’s what it would take for you to change your ways.

Abigail had made extra dinner and you were the first to claim the portion, skipping across the hall and ambling in with a grin on your face. The two of you ate and chatted with the TV filling the background noise. Karen had joined not long after, and the three of you found yourselves sprawled on the sofa, tired from a full day.

Second year was noticeably harder, no more easing you into university life – the theory and assignments were tough. However, thanks to your hard work in the previous semester it wasn’t an impossible leap. It had been for some, Javier regularly coming around in an attempt to inconspicuously copy your coursework.

Just as you were mentally preparing yourself for the next day, the last before the weekend, your phone buzzed.

Naughty girl.

Dutch. You cleared your throat, pausing a moment before opening his message. He hadn’t taken any liberties with his possession of your phone number, and your inbox had been decidedly empty since the last time you saw him.

Was this the old-person way of flirting? Was it sexting? Hopefully, your response would allow room for clarification.

I was just in my photo gallery.

Oh. You smiled to yourself. Another message.

I almost dropped my phone.

Sorry, won’t happen again.

It better happen again, miss. I’ve already made good use of it, and now I’m in need of more.

Good god, the thought of him pleasuring himself to a photo of you brought heat all over your neck. “I’m just gonna use your bathroom,” you stood up to excuse yourself, getting no response from your friends.

Once inside, you looked around, knowing full well it was empty and quickly flicked the lock on the door, before pulling your top over your head. Glancing over your reflection in the mirror, you tried to figure out the best angle that’d reveal enough but not too much.

Eventually, you got an angle you were happy with, only your jaw in view and your tits on full display. You cropped the photo (including your bottom half was a bit too much, right now at least) when his name appeared in your notification bar again.

Too far?

Bless him, he could see you’d read his message but left him without a response for ten minutes. Without giving yourself time to chicken out, you sent the picture to him.

Sorry, I was distracted.

He read it instantly, and it took a full minute before you could see he was typing. Then the dots disappeared. Then reappeared. Then disappeared again. You smiled to yourself, pulling your top over your head and flushing the toilet for good measure, before venturing back out and returning to the sofa. Dutch finally decided on what to say once you’d made yourself comfy.

Come see me this weekend.

If only. A weekend being fucked repeatedly was just what you needed, exhaustion already settling into your mind thanks to your busy schedule being back in action. Unfortunately, said schedule was exactly why you couldn’t.

Can’t, sorry. I’m working tomorrow and Saturday.

Fuck work. I’ll pay you.

“What are you smiling at?”

You glanced up, Karen looking at you inquisitively, Abigail taking her attention off the TV in turn to see what the fuss was.

“Nothing?” you said casually.

“You’ve been grinning at that phone of yours for five minutes.”

“I have not been grinning.”

She raised a brow, the look on her face turning to intrigue.

“Please tell me it’s a guy. Or a girl. Or anything with a pulse,” Abigail pleaded, and you tutted while Karen cackled.

“I’ve told you I don’t have time for that crap! Besides, I’m perfectly fine as I am,” you said defensively, folding your arms and ignoring the buzz of a message on your phone.

“We all need a good screw now and again,” Karen said plainly, Abigail nodding in agreement.

Don’t we just. “Oh, and Maquire is providing that service well enough for you, is he?”

She shot you a glare, and as she was about to retort the main door opened, the man himself trailed by Javier and John.

“Yeah, alright,” John said, his phone held up against his ear while he set the bag of shopping on the counter.

“Hello ladies,” Javier greeted you all, beginning to put away their communal shop which was pathetically void of nutrients and taken up mostly by cans of beer.

Sean pulled off his boots, hopping a little before it gave and sighing proudly when it did. “Any of you want a drink?”

You shook your head, as did Abigail, but Karen held her hand out.

“Ah, that’s why I love ya,” he grinned, handing a can out to Karen who scoffed in disgust before snatching it from him.

“Okay, fine, yeah. I can do that. See you later,” John said, hanging up his call and letting his phone drop into his pocket.

“Everything okay?” Abigail asked while John played tetris stacking the beers in the fridge.

“Yeah, just my dad. He’s coming down this weekend.”

That got your attention. Surely not -

“Says Tilly’s been angling to see the city. He was just checking I was free to spend time with them.”

“Aw,” Abigail sat up, “will we get to see them?”

John shrugged, and your phone buzzed again.

I’m serious. read Dutch’s previous message to you, followed by his most recent one: Looking forward to seeing you.

You neglected to respond just yet, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. That man worked fast.

“Where are you gonna take them?”

“God knows. Knowing Dad,” John sat down beside Abigail, “he’ll have already drafted up a full itinerary.”

You smirked at the thought, a warmth growing in your chest.

Dutch was fond of John’s friends. They were a decent bunch, and he’d been glad to see their familiar faces when he and Tilly arrived in the city the next morning, dropping their bags at the hotel before coming to visit John’s flat. He reminded himself repeatedly not to comment on the lack of cleanliness students seemed to thrive in.

It was nice to see John, along with Javier who he’d watched grow up with his son. Abigail was extra friendly, and thanks to a little birdie he understood why. She was a nice girl. They were all nice. But the one he wanted to see the most was unfortunately yet to descend on the flat despite John’s assurance that everyone swings round all the time.

“I’m going out for a cigarette,” Dutch announced, departing the flat and being met with the doorway to yours opposite him. He tried his luck, finding it unlocked, and mentally chastised you for being careless. He wasn’t sure which room was yours, though he thought it a good enough excuse to have wandered into the wrong flat should anyone ask. Two of the doors were ajar, and after a peek, he found them empty. The flat was quiet, and he decided there was no harm in trying the closed ones. He knocked on the next door, getting no response and so pushing it open.

Dutch smiled to himself as the air entered his nose; it smelled just like you.

Thanks to the strange layout, he could see the end of your bed and a slight bump under the duvet where your feet lay. “Tut tut,” he hummed as he took a couple of steps in, “you really should keep it locked – oh.”

His brows pulled together as his voice died in his mouth at the sight of you fast asleep and bundled up in your bed, completely flat out. He debated waking you but was distracted by seeing the inside of your room for the first time. A little nosy never hurt anybody.

Hands in his pockets, he observed the pictures up on your wall and smiled fondly at the ones including his drunken son. Then, he glanced over the perfume bottles lined up near your small desk mirror, then to the books and paper laid out beside your laptop accompanied by an empty mug from the previous day. It was then that he turned his attention back to you, hair ruffled with one arm out of the covers.

Dutch sat on the edge of your bed and brushed a strand of hair from your peaceful face. It was enough to make you stir, and you cranked your eyes open. He smirked as he observed your expression, going from alarmed to relaxed when you realised it was him, then back to alarmed when you realised it was him.

“You really should lock your flat, and your door,” he greeted.

You rubbed your eyes, wondering if the man had come to visit you in a dream though it felt undeniably real as you remembered your conversation with John the previous day. “Or perhaps,” you said around a yawn, “strange men shouldn’t let themselves in and sit on my bed.”

“Strange men?” Dutch looked mildly offended. “I’d hate to know what you do with familiar men.”

“Very funny,” you grumbled, pulling the covers up to your neck. “What time is it?”

“Ten thirty. I didn’t think you were one to sleep in late.” His hand rested on your lower leg, and the added pressure was soothing and lessened your motivation further for starting your day.

“I’m not. But I’ve got a long day today, so I’m treating myself,” you shut your eyes and felt Dutch shift his weight on the bed. You felt his warmth over you before you felt the kiss he pressed to your cheek, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of it. It awoke other unsavoury sensations that you usually repressed in the morning.

It was as though he sensed it, brushing his hand up your leg and moving to kiss your jaw, an added tenderness compared to its predecessor. You sighed contently, the comfort of Dutch’s soft chuckle reaching your ears. There was no option but to give in, your eyes fluttering open as you shifted onto your back, allowing Dutch to manoeuvre himself on top of you. His face filled with pride, but when he moved in to kiss you, you put your hand up as a barricade.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you explained, and he huffed a laugh.

“I could care less. But, if you insist,” his hand travelled further up the path of your body, cupping your breast as his lips tended to your neck instead, which you bared for him gladly.

“Was it really worth coming all this way?” you asked, lazily watching him trail his lips around your skin.

“Of course,” he said, hardly breaking his path, “need I remind you of my lack of interest in desiring a thing. I prefer -”

“- to have it, right.” Dutch smiled up at you, and the tardy realisation hit you that you were now finishing his sentences. “How was the drive up?” you asked quickly, hoping to alleviate any teasing forming in his mind.

“Just swell,” he answered, trailing his hand underneath your pyjama top to knead your breasts. His fingers moved gently in circles, testing your tenderness as they neared your nipple and lightly tweaking the now erect buds. Then his mouth came down over the fabric, and he sucked one into his mouth, leaving a wet patch behind that he eyed fondly once he was done.

“You know,” you set up on your elbows, craning your neck to look at the door, “I really should lock my door. Just in case.”

Dutch placed his palm on your chest, applying pressure until you lay back down. “No no, you want to leave it unlocked, then you leave it unlocked.”

“I’m serious,” you attempted to sit up again but damn he was strong, “John lets himself in all the time.”

“Does he,” Dutch hummed, moving his head down to suck your nipple in again and released, “I ought to teach the boy some manners.”

“Dutch, it’s not funny. Let me lock the -”

As you tried to sit up Dutch applied his full weight onto you and mouthed at your neck while all the air was knocked from your lungs. Strong and heavy. It would be a comfort if you could only breathe, and grumbled incoherently at your body’s response to being trapped by him despite the danger of the situation.

“Now,” Dutch cooed, lifting his head and running his thumb along your chin, “don’t you worry. I’ve been fit to burst since you sent me those pictures.”

“I thought you -”

“I did, but it’s not the same.” With that, he eased off slightly as you gradually accepted this was a risk you’d just have to take, and wrapped his hand around your inner thigh to shift your legs apart. “Huh, looks like I’m not the only one.”

You frowned down to observe what he was looking at and were met with the moist material of your pyjama shorts. “Goddamnit.”

Dutch chuckled while he trailed his fingers up and down your mound, and it wasn’t long before you were grinding up in time with his movements. He always seemed to know the exact pressure and pace you wanted, and often reigned it back some so as to keep you frustrated. You were about to ask him to get on with it, considering the risk and limited time you had before your day started, when he removed his hand to undo his jeans and pull out his frustrated-looking cock. The man didn’t even look at you, nor give you any warning, before moving your shorts to the side and sliding right in. And curse your body once again, allowing him the smoothest of passages.

A sigh of relief left him, the sort one would make when sinking into a hot bath. He stayed there a moment, nosing at your neck and brushing his palm down your flank to your shorts, the fabric of which he bunched up in his hand. At least you weren’t wearing any underwear he would inevitably steal.

“How could this not be worth the journey,” he mused, and you realised he was in fact talking to himself. Still, you sighed out a laugh.

Dutch moved his torso off yours, straightening up to grab your outer thighs in each hand. His grip was tight, bruising almost, and he held you right where he wanted you as he pulled out and began thrusting in a slow, deep rhythm. His head tipped back, and you stayed watching him, the euphoric pleasure seeping over his face enough to keep you lubricated down below. It truly was nice to know you were the cause of such a response. Well, your body, at least.

“Now,” his heavy gaze met yours, and he leaned forward to plant one hand on your headboard and left the other gripping your hip, “let’s get to it, shall we?”

There was no room to answer before he deepened his thrusts, his thick cock thoroughly filling you. He was perfectly anchored to the bed and you, and being leant forward slightly enabled him to brush over the plush, pulsating spot inside you repeatedly. Swiftly building up your impending orgasm, you thanked your accommodation for not giving you squeaky beds despite their questionable quality.

Dutch’s grunts sounded at the same time as his thrusts, his lips pressed together to limit any other noise and you did the same, quiet gasps leaving you on occasion. “You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he asked through a laboured breath.

“Mhm,” you answered and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him further in and it was the last bit of motivation he needed to fuck you into your mattress until silently you came, back arching and hands gripping the duvet beneath. Dutch continued to fuck into you while your orgasm ebbed away, and you bore through the over-stimulation until he pressed his hips as far forward as he could, filling you up as you felt his cock twitch inside you.

Your breath evened out while he dropped his head forward to run a hand through his hair. “My memory did not do you justice.”

“That right?” you tilted your head in amusement and he hummed his agreement while slowly pulling out and doing a poor job of catching his spend. Guess you’d be changing your sheets today.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked and you gestured to the door to your ensuite in agreement. While he was there, you pulled some wipes out from your side table and cleaned yourself up.

“What have you got planned for today?” you asked as he ventured back in, doing up the fasten of his belt.

“Probably get some food, walk around and see what we can find,” he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, gesturing to your fire alarm that was tactically covered by a sock. “You really are a naughty girl.”

You snorted a laugh and sat up, while he leaned on your desk and cracked your window open to blow the smoke out. “Are they not going to wonder where you are now?”

“I told them I was going for a cigarette.”

“Huh, smart.”

He raised his brows in agreement as he took another drag. “What time are you working until today?”

“Late,” you shrugged. “I’m on until close.”

Dutch tutted. “Well, my hotel isn’t far from your work, so you may as well stay with me. I’ll wait up.”

“I don’t recall telling you where I worked.”

He smirked, tapping the ash out the window. “You didn’t.”

“Then how -”

“I have my ways. I can be rather resourceful when I want to be.”

“No shit,” you scoffed, ignoring the slight creepiness of him having that knowledge. “But no, thank you, I’ll be too tired.”

“The hotel bed is very comfortable.”

“I said no. Besides, you have Tilly with you,” you said, Dutch shifting his position to be half-seated on your desk.

“She has her own room.” After a final drag, he stubbed out his cigarette and flicked it out your window. He walked over and sat on your bed again, taking your hand in his. “Just consider it?”

“Fine,” you acquiesced, “I will see how I feel after my shift.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, a pleased smile forming on his face and moved in to kiss your cheek before standing. “Be sure to say bye before you head off.”

“Whatever you say,” you rolled your eyes, and with that, he departed, and the urge to shower became urgent.

You had ten minutes to spare after getting washed and dressed, and couldn’t find anything to busy yourself with so you ended up visiting John’s flat after all. Your friends were all there when you entered, Tilly offered you a hug, and Mr Van der Linde greeted you casually when you entered the flat, like he hadn’t been pounding into you less than an hour ago.

“Here she is,” John smiled, “you feeling better?”

Dutch’s expression hardened so fast you could feel it, and you grumbled internally at John once again unintentionally putting his foot in it. “Yeah, fine,” you said quickly, “just needed some sleep.”

“Perhaps you should skip some lectures and catch up some more,” John teased.

“You’re actually going?” Javier scoffed from the sofa, taking his attention away from Tilly’s phone where she appeared to be showing him a video.

“You know I have to,” you deflected, walking over to sit on the arm of the sofa beside him.

“Eighty percent, you can stand to miss a few.”

With a playful tilt of your head, you raised your brows accusingly. “Not worth getting into the habit.”

“Get me a copy of the notes?” he asked sweetly, smiling up at you and taking your hand in his to place a kiss on the back of it. As always, you could never resist, nodding your understanding with a smirk. “Ah, Mr Van der Linde -” Javier’s expression dropped as he look at the man in question, “don’t tell my pa, okay?”

Before he could respond, Sean decided to get a word in. “My da doesn’t mind me not going, says it’s better I don’t get my head filled by those pompous academic types. N-no offence, Mr Van der Linde,” he held his arms up placatingly.

“Now, why would I be offended by that?” he asked, genuinely, though Sean visibly began to sweat.

“No reason! No reason at all -”

“And on that note,” you cleared your throat, deciding to save Sean before he inevitably fell further into his self-made hole. “I should get going. Nice to see you both again,” you said, mainly to Tilly, and hoped Dutch’s devious expression in response wasn’t as noticeable to anyone else.

If another person asked you to make a cocktail, you’d scream. It’s a Friday, do these people not know how filled to the brim with students this place was? You weren’t even sure why you offered cocktails at this stupid hour; everyone was too inebriated to even appreciate it, and who needs to spend extra on a drink when they’re out to get as plastered as they can, anyway? Just order a shot and be done with it -

“Whiskey old-fashioned, please.”

You turned, half-ready to lose your job for punching a patron and were met with a smiling Dutch on the other side of the bar.

“Seriously?” you gestured around yourself, both as to why he’d ordered that and why he was there in the first place.

“Why not?”

“It’s busy,” you grumbled, making an exasperated show of preparing the glass.

“Fine,” he chuckled, “just a double on ice will do.”

You offered him a grateful smile, scooping a few ice cubes out of the tray.

“Do you always speak to customers that way?”

“Only the annoying ones,” you shrugged.

“I’m in half a mind to tell your manager,” he raised his brows, leaning on the bar in a way that enhanced his arms as his burgundy shirt stretched around them.

“Do that and I’ll ask you for ID. You forget I also have the power to withhold... other things,” you slid the drink over to him, and as you were about to announce the total, he handed you a twenty. “It doesn’t cost that much.”

“It’s a tip.”

“No,” you lamented, refusing to be his charity case, “it all goes in a pot anyway.”

“Consider it an apology for my being a difficult customer,” he answered immediately. “And as a sweetener, so you don’t withhold your oh so generous offerings.”

You tutted and placed the change to sit stubbornly in front of him on the bar. “I -” your attention was pulled to someone new coming up to the bar, “hold on a second.”

After pouring out two vodka cokes for them, you returned to Dutch. “Where’s John and Tilly?”

“John’s back at his flat, I think, and Tilly’s sleeping at the hotel,” he sipped at his drink, and you smirked as he tried to hide that this whiskey was not as fancy as his palate was used to.

“Will Tilly be alright on her own?” you asked.

“Of course. I plan to return soon anyway; I just need to pick something up first.”

“What do you need to – oh,” you realised what – or rather who – he was referring to. “I haven’t agreed to come back with you. Besides, I’m still working.”

“When do you usually finish?”

“When everyone leaves,” you narrowed your gaze at him accusingly.

“Ah,” he hummed in amusement. “It appears to be quietening down.”

He was right. The crowd was certainly beginning to thin out, and you hoped that in true student fashion, they would all leave to go somewhere busier once they noticed. “I still haven’t agreed.”

Dutch’s response was the inching of his fingers closing to yours, brushing them over your own secretively. “I would really like you to.”

“I’m really, really tired, Dutch.”

“That’s fine, you can go straight to sleep,” at the raise of your brows, he continued with a smile that inched on his face, “I mean it.”

“I could be a while,” you excused yourself further.

He finished the last of his drink, pausing a beat before finishing it. “Just text me when you’re done. Otherwise, I’ll stay here until everyone else has left.”

“Okay, alright,” you rubbed your brow, supposing it couldn’t be too bad if you did just go there to sleep. By now, your trust in him had grown to the point where you believed he would’ve put all the measures in place to ensure the two of you weren’t caught. “I’ll text you.”

“Good,” he said, pleased, and stood. “I’ll be going now, then.”

“You mean you don’t want another one of those?” you pointed to his empty glass.

He gave you an almost weary look, and a laugh slipped from you.

“I’m only kidding.”

He shook his head, and for the briefest of moments your heart skipped as you saw his rare, genuine smile.

“See you later,” you concluded the conversation.

Dutch folded his jacket over the arm and offered you a secretive wink. “I look forward to it.”

It was another hour before the bar closed, and you swiftly grabbed your bag from the back room, pulling your phone out to message Dutch at the earliest opportunity.

You opted for waiting outside, a small way down the street in case any of your colleagues caught you swanning off with an older man who’d visited the bar. He didn’t leave you waiting for long.

“That was sooner than I expected,” he greeted you, and on the short walk to the hotel, you answered his questions about how your shift went.

“This is an expensive hotel,” you slowed on the approach, and Dutch rested his hand comfortably on your lower back. Somehow, you always seemed to forget just how rich he was.

“You think they won’t let you in?” he teased, and you nodded genuinely. “Relax, darling.”

That worked. Your body softened involuntarily, and walking in with him felt natural, easy. What you’d expected otherwise you weren’t sure, still hyper-aware of how you must look to a passer-by at this moment. Or perhaps they didn’t care. Dutch certainly didn’t.

The two of you took the lift, walking down the well-decorated hallway until Dutch stopped and swiped his card on a door. You let out a breath once inside, kicking off your shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed without a second thought.

“You and Javier seem to have an interesting relationship,” he commented, untying his shiny black shoes and placing them neatly by the door.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked defensively.

Dutch shrugged casually, clearly a façade. “You seem close. I wondered if there was anything there.”

You scowled at him, too tired for this line of questioning. “Obviously not -” you paused, remembering yourself despite your newfound anger. “Well, we might’ve had a drunken kiss on our first week, but it didn’t progress beyond that.”

“Hm. I thought as much.”

“What is wrong with you?” you said sharply, “why would you ask that?”

“I was only curious,” he held his hands up before unbuttoning his shirt. “I didn’t realise it was a crime to ask.”

“It’s not. You’ve no right to be jealous.”

“Who said I was?” he asked, leaning into a chuckle and it only aggravated you even more.

You huffed out some of your anger. “It’s pretty obvious. I’m not stupid. And you’re not as good at hiding things as you think.”

His face altered from unbothered to mildly entertained. “I don’t see why you’re getting so defensive. It was only a question.”

Your mouth opened to let a retort pass through, but none came. The fucker wasn’t wrong, he had only asked. In your exhausted state, you questioned whether you’d read too much into it, and frowned at the ground while rubbing the stress from your brow. Keeping so much contained was a problem in times like this, when emotions escaped out into the world. “I don’t - I just -” you began, feeling yourself getting worked up.

“Okay, alright, darling. Come here,” Dutch sat beside you, opening his arms and you tucked yourself into the warm embrace.

“Sorry,” you sighed quietly, “this is why I didn’t want to come. I get grouchy when I’m tired.”

“I can tell,” he teased, but the kiss placed on the crown of your head balanced it out. “You’ve been sick, John said?”

“Not sick. Just tired this week, that’s all.”

Dutch paused, tightening his arms around you. “It doesn’t look like you’re going to have any time to rest in the near future.”

“I’ll take a weekend off work at something,” you mumbled, almost on autopilot as it wasn’t the first time you’d been berated for being too much of a try-hard.

“Why do I get the impression you’re lying?” he asked gently, and your responding laugh was mirthless. “I like most things about you, except this.”

“Except what?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder to catch his eyes.

“This incessant need you have to work yourself to fatigue. It’s unhealthy.”

“It’s temporary,” you insisted.

“If you would only let me -”

“Don’t you dare offer me money again.” That was a place you’d never go to, a sense of pride far too strong to accept his help. You could do it. You just... need to complain occasionally. And maybe have someone that could help alleviate the stress using tried and true methods. “Wait, you said most. What else don’t you like about me?”

He paused, as though he hadn’t expected that question. “I suppose how little time I get to spend with you.”

“That’s a cop-out.”

Dutch laughed, releasing you from his embrace and standing to continue getting undressed. A feeling resembling awe settled in your body at how proudly he stood, in only his underwear, while finding a pair of joggers to wear for bed. He hooked his thumbs into the band of his pants but paused, slyly looking over his shoulder at you. You swiftly averted your gaze.

“You’re allowed to look, I don’t mind,” he said with amusement, and you only looked back once you’d heard his underwear come off and joggers come on. You were far too tired to go another round, but you feared your body would decide otherwise if you caught a glance of him fully nude. “Here,” he passed a plain t-shirt to you, “I suspect you don’t have anything to wear.” After you took it, his face fell slightly. “Not that I mind you sleeping with nothing on.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, for whatever reason wanting to get dressed where he couldn’t see. “Does the hotel have spare toothbrushes?”

“Sure, in the bathroom,” he pulled back the cover of the bed and got in, clasping his hands over his stomach. “Help yourself to whatever.”

You did, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and changing into Dutch’s t-shirt. It was clean, but it still held his underlying scent. He was in the same position when you re-entered the bedroom and lifted the covers for you to get in. “Thanks,” you said, laying down and marvelling at how soft the bed was, a yawn escaping thanks to your newfound comfort.

Dutch reached over and flicked the switches above the side table, turning off all the lights except the lamp next to him. Then, he brushed the back of his knuckle tenderly over your temple, and it took all you had to fight an immediate descent into sleep. You took the opportunity to shuffle closer to him, and he extended his arm so you could lay on his chest while he was propped up a little against the headboard. “Get some sleep, now,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble in the low light of the room.

As you melted into him some more, the bare skin of his chest warm and soothing, he put on his glasses from the bedside table and picked up his book. “Aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’ll sleep better if I read a little first. Don’t mind me, though.”

“Okay.” You pecked his lips, and once you were re-settled on his chest sleep came easier than ever.

The gentle motion of fingertips slowly grazing the middle of your back was the first sensation to greet you upon awakening, and you blinked your eyes open to the hazy filter of morning sun through the window. You were nestled comfortably into Dutch, still using his chest as a pillow and glanced up, finding the man himself in somewhat of a daydream as he looked out the window. He noticed the small movement, though, and offered you a warm smile. “Morning.”

“Morning,” you half-yawned, stubbornly closing your eyes to nestle further into his chest. How he was more comfortable than the bed itself you weren’t sure.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

“Like a log. You?”

“Just fine. You’re nice to wake up to.” He placed his palm flat on your back, holding you to him.

“You aren’t so bad yourself. What time are you seeing John today?”

“I think we’re going for a late breakfast; I suppose whenever he’s ready. We have a bit of time, if you want anything brought up to the room?”

“No, no, I’m okay. Thanks though. Actually,” you shifted up onto your elbow, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and internally deciding you preferred Dutch’s hair in the morning, a little messy from the night. “I wouldn’t mind using that shower.”

“Be my guest,” he said politely. It was nice to lay like this with him, you’d expected him to have his hands all over you as soon as you’d awoken, though perhaps he was tired. If anything, he was more reserved than usual, and you hoped he wasn’t beginning to have second thoughts. You knew better than to question him first thing in the morning and moved to a seated position before swinging your legs off the bed.

“Appreciate it.” You picked your clothes up from their crumpled heap on the floor and carried them into the bathroom with you before having the most glorious shower you’d had in some time.

Checking your phone once you were finished, you realised you’d been in the bathroom for a full thirty minutes. Whoops.

“Sorry,” you said as soon as you opened the door, Dutch seated on the bed, now dressed and rolling up his sleeves. “That shower was a little too nice.”

The smile Dutch offered you was warmer, more awake, and more like himself than he had been previously. “Good,” he offered out his hand which you promptly took and pulled you towards him to stand between his legs, and he wrapped his arms around your lower back. “I’d say you’ve earned it.”

You chuckled easily, glad to find out nothing was wrong, and he simply hadn’t woken up yet.

“What time are you working?” he asked, while you ran a hand through his hair and settled it on his shoulder.

“Early afternoon. I’m off tomorrow, but I’ve got work to do – what time are you leaving?”

“About midday. Don’t worry about it,” he placed a kiss on your sternum, “I’d prefer it if you rested instead.”

“I’ll try,” you nodded with a snort.

“I would like,” he stood up, holding your hands in his, “to see you more frequently, if possible.”

“I’d like that,” you looked up at him, and the deal was sealed with a kiss. “I’m not sure exactly when, but -”

“We’ll work something out. I have your number,” he said conspiratorially, an alluring half-smile making him even more irresistible than he already was. “But I fear Tilly will be up soon, I don’t want her catching you on the way out.”

“Good call,” you agreed, breaking out of the embrace to pick up your bag and double-check you hadn’t forgotten anything. “Have a good weekend.”

“We will,” he pulled you in for a kiss, one that was tender and slow and left you a little breathless once you’d parted your lips from his. “Thanks for coming to stay with me.”

“I’ve got to do my part for the community,” you shrugged, and his face dropped into playful annoyance.

“Oh, that’s how it is?”

You laughed, edging towards the door though he managed to pat your ass in reprimand before you were out of reach. “I might add this to my volunteering work on my CV, come to think of it.”

Dutch laughed heartily, pressing his tongue into his cheek and shaking his head. “You truly can be a wicked woman.”

With a proud, final smile, you stepped forward for a kiss goodbye then opened the door, checking the coast was clear before stepping out. At the risk of Tilly hearing you, you offered Dutch a simple nod before departing, which he returned.

It wasn’t a short walk back to your accommodation, but it wasn’t long, either. The weather was good, and you were thankful it’d been nice for Dutch and Tilly’s visit up. It wasn’t lost on you that there was a slight spring in your step, every meeting with Dutch making your heart feel that extra bit lighter, and life feel an extra bit more accommodating. After last time, you’d attributed it to the sex, to the rush and release that was a rarity in your everyday. But perhaps it was him, and while this newfound feeling was a nice one to experience, the low hum of guilt and the prospect of where this avenue of exploration would lead you left a slightly bitter taste in your mouth.

There was a possibility that Dutch’s philosophical suggestions were imprinting on you, but you actively decided not to dwell on the many possibilities and instead focus on that, for now, you had something that made your chest grow warm and your breath seep from your lungs. Perhaps this was what you were missing, a way to dispel your worries and fears even for a short while. And perhaps, on some level, this was something you deserved.

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x f!reader #dutch van der linde #dutch x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfiction #my stuff

92 notes · View notes

lost-girl-2021 · 11 months

Note

Can you write Quaritch's reaction to Spider calling him dad? I mean his pov, thoughts, feelings maybe he bragged in front of his friends heh

Spoilers for the two most recent chapters of Days Into Decades

He for sure texted his lil group chat after Spider went into the bathroom. Like, spelling errors/all caps— the works. He's panicking, the system is crashing. Error, error. The gc blew up for the rest of the night as various members threw out their opinions and reactions.

I feel like he's an old man dad, in the sense that he doesn't talk about his feelings/acknowledge uncomfortable situations (at least not easily). That's part of why they were just silent on the car ride Saturday night. Spider was silently freaking out, Quaritch was trying not to make it seem like a big deal. Like, yes, if I don't acknowledge it happened, my son will understand how happy I am that he called me dad. Makes total sense.

He probably spent most of Sunday counting down the hours until he was supposed to pick up Spider. Like, he played it totally cool when he texted Spider that he was on his way, but he was genuinely excited.

And then . . . Well . . . He gets to the McGregor's and nobodies there. He texts and calls and gets no response. He calls Mr. McGregor, who's apparently been at work all day and hasn't seen Spider. He suggests checking with the Sully's, as though Quaritch and Jake will ever be anything but enemies.

He does end up calling Jake, since he has his number from Spider's emergency contact file (that he had changed as soon as possible). Jake is pissy about it, because he has to acknowledge Quaritch's existence yet again, but he agrees to check if Spider somehow ended up with one of his kids while he was at Tuk's dance recital that afternoon.

When Jake checks Lo'ak's room and finds it empty, he questions Kiri and Neteyam. Both are slightly panicked, because Lo'ak and Spider weren't even talking the day before and now they've apparently run off together? Not to mention, Lo'ak just got into a fight and was 100% grounded. He should've been in bed, watching movies and sulking as he'd been that morning when Jake and Neytiri left with their youngest.

Eventually, Neytiri and Jake remember the tracker they have in Lo'ak's phone (the kid loses it every other week, they were tired of hunting through the house every few days) and track it to the forest preserve. Jake doesn't even tell Quaritch, just honks across the street as they pull out of the driveway.

All of the adults end up in one of the forest's parking lots, Neytiri staying in the car so she doesn't physically attack Quaritch. Jake and Quaritch are kind of like bitter ex-bestfriends (which they kind of are, tbh) and stand five feet away from each other. ("Don't look at me— " "Don't look at me.")

There are too many paths and the tracker doesn't give anything beyond a general location when it's not hooked up to wi-fi, so they just wait the kids out. Soon enough, Lo'ak and a hoodie-covered Spider emerge from the thicket, skateboards in hand. They stumble over the last of the roots and Quaritch sees the 'oh shit' face both boys make (Spider a few seconds after Lo'ak, given his confinement).

Cue Quaritch's first big time parenting moment. The childcare courses did not cover finding your sixteen-year-old high off his ass in the woods. He takes him home, silently fuming the whole time, and watches him sluggishly make his wake up the steps and into the apartment.

After the anger fades a little bit, he wonders if it's his fault. If Spider got high because he regretted calling him dad the day before. If Quaritch made him feel so uncomfortable that he decided he needed to get high before he saw him.

Eventually, though the anger returns when Spider tries to shout his way out of a punishment. No phone, no skateboard, no Sully's. Were the last two mostly so Quaritch could stop having a heart attack anytime Spider left the house? Absolutely. But, they were also valid punishments.

This pretty much brings us back to the end of the most recent chapter. But, yeah. Basically, he's hyped, then pissed, then kinda sad, then pissed again.

#atwow spider #spider avatar #avatar #avatar way of water #spider #avatar fanfiction #miles spider socorro #atwow fanfiction #atwow #days into decades

53 notes · View notes

bella-rose29 · 6 months

Text

Not Your Lover - Chapter 6 (18+ version)

This is the 18+ version of Chapter 6.

For the safer version (whether that be because you're under 18 or just don't want to read it), please go here <3 (I tried my best to make it less explicit, so please please please let me know if I need to edit anymore because I wanna make sure that everybody can enjoy reading)

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: swearing, sex, like really explicit oral I won't lie to you, look away if you're not comfy with that (I'm sorry), davor is still stalking bc he has no life or personality

Tag list: idk who to tag tbh so I've tagged everyone in the safer part and linked this version to it :)

Y/n and Nikolai had settled into a routine within the first two days of staying in the same room, and he was starting to blur the lines in his head of what was real and what was fake.

It was dangerous, walking this line, especially since one wrong move could ruin everything that the two of them had built, but Nikolai knew that he was extremely close to throwing himself fully past reality. They had kept the pillow wall the first night, but when they had woken in roughly the same position as they had the first time that they shared a bed it made sense to forgo the divider completely. Neither of them appeared to be acknowledging it while asleep, and it saved some effort in the evening when they were getting ready for bed.

Work on the building had continued in much the same way as before, although Nikolai noticed that there was a little more tension in the air than usual. None of this was helped by the fact that he couldn't let his demon out at night anymore, and had resorted to staying late at the mansion after Y/n had headed back to the hotel room so that it stopped giving him a headache. Davor was still watching the two of them, following Nikolai around when he tried to go on a late night walk to take his demon fishing, and it was starting to get annoying. He had half a mind to confront the man, but somehow whenever Nikolai actually wanted to see Davor, he wasn't anywhere to be found. Y/n had mentioned that he was doing the same to her, but she didn't seem nearly as bothered about it.

Currently they were working on the floorboards of the first room, having pulled up the old ones and throwing them out, and Nikolai couldn't help but stare at Y/n every now and then as she worked. His demon snickered at him in his head, and Nikolai muttered a quiet "shut up" under his breath.

"Sorry? Did you say something?"

"Huh? No, nothing."

"Oh. Never mind."

They worked in silence again after that, the only sounds being the new floorboards being put down.

By the time sunset came around a few hours later, they'd managed to lay the whole floor, and Nikolai had replaced the windows, letting in the evening sun. He wiped his brow, wishing more than anything that he could take off some layers (but that would mean showing his scars for longer than a few seconds, and he didn't feel like having that conversation with Y/n yet. She'd probably also stab him or something).

"You alright? You look pretty sweaty."

"Yeah, I'm alright. Hopefully this heatwave brings in tourists," he replied, turning to look at her. That was a mistake, apparently, since he couldn't do anything but think about how gorgeous she looked in the golden light streaming in and lighting up her skin, making her look ethereal.

He was so screwed, and he knew that there wasn't any coming back now. He'd very nearly kissed her the other night, when she'd come in crying about her mother and he'd wiped away her tears, but the demon just had to pick that moment to make a noise. Nikolai had scolded it the whole way back to the hotel, and it had the good grace to at least seem sorry for getting in the way.

It had been a little awkward since, neither of them saying anything about the fact that they had very nearly kissed purely because they felt like it, and the tension was starting to kill Nikolai. They kept waking up tangled in each other too, and although he knew he shouldn't, he held on to her a little longer in the mornings, and his touch lingered a moment more when he passed her things. Whether she'd noticed, he had no idea, but at least she hadn't told him to stop being weird yet.

~~~

Nik was being weird.

He kept staring at Y/n, for one, and every now and then he would hold on to her for longer than fake boyfriends probably should. He was staring now, in fact, although why she had no idea. She was covered in dirt and sweat from working all day, both in the bakery and in the mansion, and she definitely needed a bath. Maybe he was staring at her because of that? Yeah, that made more sense. Although when she looked at him (not that she was sneaking glances or anything), she couldn't deny how gorgeous he looked in the light, the sunset making his golden hair glow.

He kept talking to himself too, and Y/n was starting to worry that he was going mad. She'd talked to Gregor about it that morning, and apparently Nik was doing it while he worked in the workshop. Gregor also looked like he knew something else, but despite Y/n's best efforts she couldn't get it out of him. The man was notoriously good at keeping secrets, but if it was about Nik then she wanted to know.

"I'm sure he'll tell you in his own time, Y/n/n," was all he had said, and Y/n had huffed and left not long after.

She snapped herself out of her thoughts, blush rising when she realised that she'd zoned out looking at him, and turned back to the wall that she was painting. They'd done good work today; Nik had managed to get the new windows in with the help of her father, and the three of them had finished off the floor. Y/n had picked out the paint a while ago, and had made a start on covering the walls.

"You know," she started, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Nik turn to face her. "I think we can do this. How long have we got left now, eight days?"

"Yeah, I think so. There's still the two other rooms to do though. I know they're both clear but it's going to be a stretch to get them done on top of this one. It's taken us this long to get this room nearly ready."

"What happened to mister 'we can do it!', huh? I've got a plan, don't worry."

"Is your plan hiring the entirety of Taya? Because I might be an optimist but this is bordering on impossible."

"I thought that nothing was impossible, only improbable," she quipped, mocking his voice.

"Was that... was that meant to be me?"

"I thought it was an excellent impression. Did you have a problem with it? I mean, personally I thought there were two of you for a moment."

Nik laughed, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous," he said, looking at her fondly. Y/n smiled lightly back at him, and they got lost in each others' gazes. Nik suddenly snapped out of it, whipping his head back to the curtain pole he was adjusting. Y/n moved her own attention back to the wall, feeling her face heat up.

Shit.

~~~

An hour or so later, the sun had fully set, and Nikolai had had to turn the chandelier on in the room so that he and Y/n could continue to work. The demon had, for once, helped Nikolai out, since its laughing at Nikolai and Y/n gazing at each other made him realise what he was doing. He'd quickly gone back to what he was doing, and a moment later he heard the brush of the paint on the wall.

Now they were in separate rooms, and Nikolai had looked to check that the demon wouldn't be seen before letting it out.

"No noise, alright? The second you make a noise you're back in, understood?" The demon had nodded and padded off into a corner of the room, starting to use its tail as a brush, collecting the remaining rubbish on the floor. Nikolai felt proud of it once more, seeing it trying to help, and hoped that it had learned something valuable from working hard. Saints, he sounded like the demon's teacher. Nikolai frowned, shuffling furniture around the room. He supposed he was in a way, teaching it how to be nicer. Maybe he'd be able to let it out more if he knew it would behave. He was glad for the distraction of the demon, since it stopped him from thinking too hard about Y/n, and having to keep half an eye on the little bastard was rather entertaining at times. It was a little like having a child, except the child was quite literally a demonic entity of darkness and destruction that enjoyed ripping people's faces off and generally making their lives complete and utter misery. Nikolai suddenly wondered if that was how Baghra had felt about the Darkling, and shuddered at the thought of baby Aleksander. The demon noticed, growling lowly at its creator, and Nikolai called it over softly, careful not to alert Y/n.

"Come here, that's it, there we go," he whispered, settling on the floor as his demon came and rested its head on his lap. It was strange, doing this, but he could sense that his demon was disturbed by Nikolai's thoughts of the Darkling. While the man had been responsible for the separation between Nikolai and his demon, the latter now shared the resentment that Nikolai harboured. No doubt it was remembering the battle with Fjerda too, and the multiple brushes with death. Since then they had only become closer, reaching an agreement that they would die for each other if needed.

"Nik? You alright in there?" Both Nikolai and his demon turned to look at the doorway where Y/n's voice had come from, and they glanced at each other before the demon crept off into the shadows.

"Yep, I'm alright." He pushed himself off of the floor just as Y/n walked in, paint on her trousers.

"I think I'm gonna head out now, I've done what I can on the walls. You coming?"

"Yeah, sure. Let me just grab my things," he smiled, and she returned it, heading back into the front room. He took the demon back in, telling it to stop fussing and hurry up, and followed her out, collecting his jacket from where he'd slung it over one of the armchairs.

~~~

They made it back to the hotel no problem, although Y/n could have sworn that she saw Davor following them when they went round a corner, and when they were up in Nik's room he pulled out a bottle of kvas and two glasses.

"Drink?"

"Sure."

Davor following them wasn't too disturbing for Y/n, given he was a deeply untrusting person and was probably trying to expose Nik and Y/n's relationship for what it was, but Nik seem more concerned. He brought it up as he poured, passing one glass to Y/n and taking his own over to the sofa in front of the fireplace. Despite the heatwave, the hotel room was somehow freezing (Y/n had no idea how the owners managed it), so they'd lit a fire.

"You really aren't worried about him stalking us?"

"No, not really. Why are you so worked up about it?"

"Um... because it's stalking? It's quite literally illegal. Also, what happens if he finds out none of this is real?"

Her heart hurt at his words, but she quickly dismissed it as nothing. "Nobody will believe him if he says anything, because they like us a whole lot more. Everybody knows he likes stirring up trouble for no good reason, and I've got a reputation, hell, you have a reputation now. We'll be fine." She sipped her kvas, grateful for the burn as it went down. It stopped her thinking too hard about Nik.

"If you're sure," he frowned, and Y/n wanted to smooth the lines on his face with her fingertips. He settled into the sofa next to her having finished fiddling with the fire, and it was cramped enough that his thigh brushed against hers. She pulled her legs up, turning so that her back was resting against the arm and she was facing him. Nik angled his body slightly so that he was looking towards her, shifting in his seat in a way that had Y/n hiding behind her glass and trying desperately to not think too hard about his lap. "You alright?" he asked, amusement in his eyes and a smirk on his face, and Saints damn it she was blushing and he fucking knew it.

"Yeah, I'm alright." He hummed, and Y/n felt her cheeks grow even warmer. "What? I am!"

"Okay! You just look a little... flushed," he responded, and she could hear the laughter in his voice, making her glare at him. "There it is! I've missed that glare," he joked, only succeeding in deepening her frown.

"Fuck off," she muttered as she sipped her kvas, and he laughed, loud and bellowing. Saints, she wanted to make him laugh more often.

Sleeping next to Nik tonight would be difficult, she decided as she watched him.

~~~

A few hours and half a bottle of kvas later, Nik and Y/n had loosened up significantly, and were spilling secrets that she would never dare to tell him were she sober.

He'd confessed that he was absolutely terrified of spiders, having been nicknamed 'Nikolai the spider squealer' by his childhood best friend, and was considered a general menace to society as a small boy.

"Oh yeah, I find that so difficult to believe," Y/n giggled sarcastically, and Nik's responding pout only made her laugh harder.

"What is that supposed to mean? I am an absolute delight to have around!" He put on a look of offence, and Y/n nearly spilled her drink when she held her sides from laughing. "Seriously!" He was laughing now, spluttering as he spoke and unable to get words out properly. A few minutes later when they'd calmed down enough (it took a while since whenever they looked at each other they burst out laughing again), he spoke up again. "Go on, your turn. I think it's been my turn the last three times," he frowned, trying to count in his head. Y/n thought for a moment, before coming up with something.

"Saints, I don't know why I'm even gonna tell you this," she laughed, pressing her hand to her forehead. "Okay. So, basically, I've never... I have never... you know." She waved her hand in the general direction of her lower half. Nik's eyes went wide.

"Wait. You've never had an orgasm?"

"No, I haven't!"

"No wonder you're so fucking grumpy all the time, Saints!"

"Oi! It's not exactly my fault! Davor never could and neither can I, I gave up trying to get myself off like six months ago."

"Bet I could," Nik said, sipping his drink.

"...What?"

"I said I bet I could."

They looked at each other, Nik studying her over his glass and Y/n feeling increasingly flustered at the direction their conversation had taken.

"Prove it."

He said nothing, still just looking her, and she was starting to regret her words. "Sorry. Stupid idea. Forget it." She turned her face away, staring into the fire. He was yet to say anything, and the atmosphere turned awkward.

"Are you?" he said, and Saints, why was his voice so low? "Are you sorry?"

"No," she whispered, and she was hyper-aware of the sound of his glass clinking against the side table as he set it down. She turned to look at him, breath leaving her body at the sight of him closer than before, eyes filled with something dangerous. She put her own glass down, nearly spilling it since she hadn't taken her eyes off of Nik. "Why?"

"Because I want to prove it."

Something snapped then, and Y/n surged forward to grab at his shirt with her hands and pull him in for a kiss. He didn't seem to know what to do with himself for a moment, but after barely a second he was responding, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulled her into his lap, moaning softly, and Saints she wanted him to do it all over again. Her hands moved up to play with his hair the way that she'd wanted to since their first kiss in the square all those days ago, tangling in the locks and tugging every now and then as his hands grasped her hips. She wasn't sure how long they were there for, exploring each other his their hands and tongues, but every second of it was just as good as she'd imagined. He'd moved her hair out of the way to kiss down her neck, alternating between soft kisses and gently biting the skin, drawing sounds out of her that Davor never could. "Nik," she whispered into his hair, not missing the way his grip tightened on her hips. He slowly dragged his head back up, kissing as he went, before he pressed another to her mouth.

"Yeah?" His pupils were blown, the blue of his eyes nearly non-existent, and his lips were slightly swollen from kissing her.

"You gonna prove it or not?" she breathed, and he could only stare at her for a moment before nodding, and then she felt his hands at the top of her trousers, pulling up the fabric of her shirt. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her, silently asking if this was still alright, and they only broke eye contact when her shirt slipped over her head, landing on the floor a second later. He pulled her back in, kisses a little more gentle than before, and Y/n went to take Nik's shirt off. He hesitated slightly, and she paused, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. "This okay? You don't have to, if it's... I just... wanted to feel you, I guess." She blushed at the admission, and he smiled softly at her.

"It's okay, darling," and Saints she'd forgotten how her stomach dipped at the pet name. "I've just... got a lot of scars," he whispered, and Y/n immediately went to reassure him.

"That's okay. You're helping me out, not talking about your scars. but equally if you wanna do that then I'll listen," she said, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and she practically felt him melt under her. He moved back a little, giving himself room to take his clothes off. Nik paused for a moment, looking at his gloves, then made a decision and yanked them off, chucking them on to the side table next to his discarded drink. He glanced back up at her, waiting for her reaction as he settled his hands lightly on top of her thighs. Y/n could only stare at them, reaching out to hold one with her own hand but not quite touching. Most of the veins were black, and his fingers were the same, and as Y/n finally took hold of his hand, lacing their fingers together and turning his arm in her grip she noticed that the black veins continued partway up his forearms. "What..." She didn't finish, not sure where to go from there. Nik was transfixed by their interlocked hands, and his thumb was stroking hers.

"The Darkling," was his only response, and Y/n didn't know what to do other than press a gentle kiss to his mouth, cupping his face with her free hand. She pulled away, resting her forehead against his, and her hand moved down to rest over his heart.

"Does it hurt?"

"No. Not anymore."

She kissed him again, slow and careful, still holding his hand in hers.

"Do you wanna carry on?"

"Yes," he said into her mouth, hands sliding up higher on her thighs, pulling her closer to him, and Saints, he wasn't lying. She moved her hands to his shirt, tugging at the hem and lifting the fabric all the way off. Her fingers traced the lines of his chest, spending extra time on the scars and marks she found, and Nik's hands came up to rest on her back, pulling her flush against him. They kissed again, this time with more hunger, and in a sudden movement Nik had flipped them so that Y/n was lying on the sofa, legs half dangling off the edge as he situated himself between them, never taking his lips off of hers. He bit her lip, and she moaned as he slipped his tongue inside, hands moving over her sides as he shifted his hips into hers. Her grip tightened on his hair, and this time it was his turn to groan as he moved to kiss down her neck again. Nik tugged at the laces of her undershirt, pulling the clothing off a moment later and flinging it to the side. He stopped, sat up and staring down at her chest, and Y/n went to cover herself. Before she could, he'd grabbed her hands, shaking his head at her. "None of that, darling. You're stunning."

He lowered himself back down, nose brushing her chest as he asked for permission. She didn't hesitate, using her hands in his hair to all but shove him further into her, and a brief moment later he was lavishing her with his mouth again. He moved further down her body when he was satisfied he'd done enough, leaving a trail of kisses as he went, and then he was taking off her belt and looking up at her from where he now kneeled on the floor between her thighs.

"This okay, Y/n?"

"Yes," she breathed, helping him to take the rest of her clothes off. Nik kissed his way across her inner thighs, touching her everywhere but where she needed him most, and his hand on her hips was preventing her from pushing up. Annoyingly he was going to prove his point eventually, and Y/n could only begin to imagine how cocky he would be. All thoughts of anything but Nik went out of her head when he suddenly kissed her there, tentative and experimental, and Saints, the smug smirk he had on his face at her responding moan was enough to make her want to go right back to hating him.

She lost all sense of time as Nik touched her, drawing out new sounds with every movement. The hand that wasn't holding her down was helping to bring her closer, and somewhere in the haze of her pleasure Y/n thought about his blackened fingers on her skin and inside her and she gripped his hair tighter (she also had a vague thought that his scalp would hurt after this, but he didn't seem to mind at the moment), urging him to keep going.

He did, never once stopping his actions until he'd pushed her over the edge, hold on her hips getting stronger (she'd have bruises, she was sure) as she shook, and then again when he did it for a second time.

He moved back up her body a while after, having left soft kisses behind as she came down from the high, and when she brought his face down to kiss her it was soft and more loving than it should have been given they weren't actually together.

"You alright?" he asked, nose nudging against her cheek. She could only nod, wiped out. She could feel him smiling, the cheeky fucker, and she half-heartedly slapped his arm, trying to not think too hard about how toned it was. "What?" he smiled, pulling back to look at her.

"Nothing, just, you're a lot more... I don't know," she trailed off, blushing at his stare. "You have very nice arms," she decided on, and Nik's immediate laughter made her flush even more. "Shut up," she mumbled, turning her face to hide in the back of the sofa. She felt Nik's hand cup her chin, bringing her face back towards his as he planted a kiss on her lips, lingering for a while.

"Thank you," he whispered, amused smile still present. "You have very nice tits, if that helps."

"Nik!"

~~~

Nikolai had no idea where the two of them went from here, but he wouldn't take back a single second of it.

He'd helped clean Y/n up, and then had helped her move to the bed, passing her one of his clean shirts to sleep in. He went without the gloves as he got into bed next to her, leaving them sat on the table in front of the fire. He was just pulling his boots off when he felt Y/n's fingers on his back, tracing over the scars from the demon's wings. Her hands flattened on his back, then moved around his torso and under his arms as she pushed herself against him, pulling his head to hers to kiss him. The angle was awkward, so Nikolai shook his boots off and turned around, cupping her cheek to deepen the kiss. He clambered in next to her, breaking away, and pulled the sheets up over them. At Y/n's pout he simply chuckled, and brought her down to lie next to him, and she slung her arm over his chest and her leg over his, falling asleep not long after.

Nikolai stayed awake a while longer, thinking over everything that had happened. He really didn't know where they went from here, but no matter what, he needed to tell her the truth before they got too far in.

Chapter 7

#grishaverse #netflix shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai x y/n

27 notes · View notes

noisynaia · 1 year

Text

Distant Suns - Chapter 3

Among the Stars: Distant Suns

Chapter title: The Departure

summary: You have lived on Tatooine your entire life, never even been off-planet. Your path crosses a mysterious Mandalorian and his even more mysterious child. You end up having to leave your home after getting caught up with the mysterious duo by mistake.

word count: 3.2k

rating: E

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!reader

note: No use of (y/n). The reader goes by she/her pronouns. I am not super satisfied with how this chapter turned out tbh, but it is what it is, I guess. This has not been beta-read and English isn't my native language

crossposted on my ao3

previous￨series masterlist ￨next

Din is blaming himself, there is no one else he can blame. He had been sloppy, had gotten too comfortable, and let his guard down, and now he is paying for the consequences.

The memory of the Dressellian’s words is flashing on repeat in his head, an insidious smile on the thug’s lips as he had looked at the delicate fabric of your handkerchief.

“Huh, what a pretty name. It would sure be a shame if anything happened to her.”

He shouldn’t be lingering on the planet, he should go to the spaceport, get the Crest and fly himself and the kid as far away from danger as possible, but his conscience is holding him back. He doesn’t know how far the Dressellian and his men will go to take revenge, but Din has a feeling that they will go far, and that they have the resources to find out who and where you are.

He had noticed a shadow since he had left the market, feeling that he was being followed. It had turned out to be some associates of one of his old bounties, a high-profile member of a crime syndicate with base on Bakura. Din had taken out many of the mobsters but had been vastly outnumbered, not getting them all, and they probably have even more people on the planet. His first priority was to keep the child safe. He had lost your gift in the fight. The Dresselian had gotten his hands on the bundle, untying the fabric and letting the fruits hit the ground with hollow thuds.

Din knew that they must have shadowed him since the market and saw you talking with him and the kid. He doesn’t even really know you, yet you have shown him and his foundling so much kindness in the few moments he has spent with you. Din can not let them hurt you.

He has to find you before they do.

___

Your heart is racing, you can hear your pulse throbbing in your ears.

“I am not gonna hurt you, but I need you to be quiet.”

Okay, It’s Mando; he is not going to hurt you, and whatever is going on - you need to stay quiet…

You don’t know what’s going on, but even though you barely know Mando you trust him, he told you he is not going to hurt you and you believe that. You stop struggling, but your heart is still beating, at what feels like a thousand miles per second.

You smell the faint scent of blaster gas on his glove, has he been shooting? Is the child with him? Are any of them hurt? Good maker, you hope the child is okay.

You are soon getting an answer to your question, as the satchel bag, from which the child’s little head is sticking up, is shoved into your arms by Mando. The little green kid is looking a little dissatisfied and startled, but otherwise okay.

“Stay here and keep quiet, I’ll come back for you in a little while.”

The cold, stoic tone of his voice is sending a chill through your body. It all feels like a stressful dream where you don’t really know what is going on, you watch silently as the Mandalorien turns around to leave you and the kid alone in the alley. You have so many questions, but you know that you will have to wait to get them answered. First priority now is to keep yourself and the child safe from whatever danger you have found yourself in, so you focus on the little youngling in your arms whose big eyes are looking up at you. You begin to rock him gently in your arms, not sure if it is to comfort him or yourself, but it seems to help you both.

You realise that even through all the turmoil you still have the little metal nut in your hand.

You pull out a decorative string from your suede boots, beading the little hexagonal ring through it and secure it with a knot, pulling the string over your head before tucking it securely away under your tunic and undershirt. The cold metal feels nice against your sternum, you feel like your entire body is on fire from fear and adrenaline and the cool metal is grounding you, even though it’s a short-lived pleasure since it doesn’t take long for the metal to absorb the heat from your skin.

You are not sure for how long you have been sitting with the kid in the dark alley, your sense of time completely gone. It could be 15 minutes or an hour. You are just sitting, rocking the child and staring into the air right in front of you like you’re in a trance. Your head is running at a thousand miles, but you are not able to stop and actually focus on a single thought.

You are suddenly pulled out of your daze by a loud bang, followed by the sound of blaster shots. Pinching your eyes shut, you instinctively shield the child in your arms. A couple more shots are fired and a distressing cry is heard, that you are horrified to realise is coming from a dying person. You try to calm your nerves but have little luck. You want to scream, but know that you have to keep quiet, so you simply hold your breath till the sound stops.

Mando’s shiny armour reappears in your field of vision, blaster tightly clutched in his hand. It is scary how quiet he is when he moves despite how tall and bulky he is built.

“Mando, what’s going on?”

You watch him lower the weapon. Mando sighs, looking down at his boots before turning his black visor directly to you.

“I’m a bounty hunter. The friends of an old bounty of mine are, apparently, here in Mos Eisley. They are some pretty serious guys, part of a big crime syndicate and they are not exactly fond of me and not the forgiving types. And I have reason to believe they will go far for revenge.” He takes a short break, shaking his head in frustration.

“They saw you talking with me at the fruit stand.” The tone of his voice dropping an octave. “They know your name, I lost your handkerchief in the turmoil… I’m really sorry for bringing you into this.”

He is cut off by a sound from the street outside the alley.

“Down.” Mando whispers.

You crouch down again, the child still placed tightly in your arms. There’s a pause, the only sound is your quiet but frantic breath, which you try to control as well as you can considering the circumstances. Mando scans the surroundings but doesn’t seem to find anything. He looks back at you, nodding his helmet for you to get up after he has confirmed the coast is clear.

“We have to go.” He states, his voice low and authoritarian.

“Yeah…” You croak out, letting him lead you out of the alley.

You step over the dead body of the person Mando had shot, clutching the child close to your chest, shielding the view of the corpse from him as much as you can. You feel your stomach turns, and you are afraid you’re going to vomit, but you manage to keep it down.

The journey to the spaceport hangars is a haze, Mando dragging you along, not letting go of you, even once. He leads you through the dark back alleys of Mos Eisley, his glove-covered hand firm around your wrist, but not so tight that it hurts. You no longer hold the canvas bag with the kid in your arms, having crossed the strap over your torso instead, wearing the bag as it is intended to make you move quicker. You try not to think too much, just focusing on following the moving armour in front of you. You clutch your free hand tightly around the strap of the bag with the kid as its precious content.

You are not that familiar with the spaceport, you don’t really have a reason to, you have never left the planet before. You are surprised when the Mandalorian is leading you to the only hangar you are somewhat acquainted with, the one that is housing Peli’s mechanic shop. You know Peli, you actually know her pretty well. She has come to the inn every Sunday to play sabacc with Yina since you were a child. The familiarity is helping to calm you a little as you sneak into the enclosed space with Mando, having four walls and a roof around you is a safe feeling.

You throw your back against one of the metal walls, sliding down against it until you’re sitting on the floor, again clutching the bag with the kid tightly to your chest.

“Are you okay?” Mando asks you, towering over you as he looks down at you in his standing form. You are surprised by the gentleness of his voice after experiencing him in his brute bounty hunter mode.

“I’m okay, just a little startled.” You croak, feeling way more than just a little startled.

The kid, who had been still and quiet since he was left with you in the alley, begins to stir in your arms and let out a small grunt.

“Oh, sorry, baby. Am I squeezing you?” You whisper under your breath, loosening your hold on the little one, without letting completely go of him. You are still on high alert and your instincts tell you to keep the babe safe.

He seems to be satisfied again, getting comfortable in your lab as his head and shoulder are free and the rest of his body is wrapped in the canvas like a tiny sleeping bag.

The three of you are approached by one of Peli’s pit droids. Mando seems weirdly reluctant to talk to it, but asks to see Peli. The Droid tells Mando to follow it to lead him to the mechanic, but Mando turns to you before going with it.

“We are safe in here.” He reassures you before leaving you and the kid on the floor of the hangar.

The child is removing his arms from the bag, stretching his little hands towards Mando as he disappears behind some crates with the droid, uttering a weak,‘Patu’. He is, however, quick to accept being left with you again, seemingly aware that his father figure’s still in the hangar. It was clear that the kid had known that keeping quiet was important before, but now he is looking up at you with his big eyes, softly babbling as he leans more into your embrace. You can’t help but smile down at him despite the tumultuous evening you have had.

“You don’t say.” You tell him, playing along with his incomprehensible baby chatter. The calming presence of the child is a great distraction from your frayed nerves. You don’t know how long you have been sitting with the child when Mando reappears. Peli is hot on his heel, and she doesn’t look pleased.

“Mando’s pulled you into his mess, huh.” She addresses you, standing with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

“Write a packing list, I’ll send a droid to the inn. You might be all grown up, but I’m not letting you leave before you have spoken with Yina.” Peli interjects before scooping up the child from your lap, who greets the woman like an old friend, happily babbling at her.

You look up at her questioningly, but Peli is focusing on the kid so you turn to Mando instead. You form your lips to ask what Peli means, but Mando speaks before you get to it.

“It might not be safe for you in Mos Eisley for a time.” He speaks slowly through the modulator.

You are already beginning to plan on where you can stay, you have an old school friend who moved to Mos Espa a couple of years ago. Maybe you can stay with her for a while? But when Mando adds. “Or on Tatooine in general…”

This knocks the air out of your lungs, what in the worlds are you going to do?! But, yet again, Mando gives you an answer before you get to ask for one.

“I got you involved… I’ll keep you safe till you can return to the planet again.”

You learn that Peli and Mando are acquainted, Mando had apparently let Peli in on the situation you had found yourself in while they were alone. They had seemingly both come to the conclusion that leaving the planet under the cover of night was the best gameplan and that you had to come with. You staying on Tatooine was simply too dangerous.

You get the items Yina will have to pack for you scribbled down on a piece of parchment, which Peli sends to the inn with a droid. You are now sitting on one of the many metal crates in the hangar while Mando and Peli work on getting the Crest ready. The kid is back in your lap on the verge of falling asleep, and you’re mindlessly patting his back while looking straight ahead, eyes not focusing on anything specific. You suspect that you might still be in shock. Some time goes by like this, but you are pulled back to reality when Yina steps into the hangar, distraught painting her gentle features, until she locks eyes with you. She lets go of the two bags, which you later learn are packed with your clothes, toiletries and a few personal belongings, heading straight towards you. You jump down from the crate, gently placing the kid down on the floor to embrace Yina, who is headed towards you with outstretched arms.

“Are you okay?” She whispers into your hair as she hugs you tightly.

“I’m okay.” You confirm, and you feel her body relaxing a little by your words.

“Did Peli tell you what happened in the note?” You ask her.

“Yes, she did…” She sighs, still not letting go of you.

You stand like this for a while, a comforting embrace without saying anything. Yina gently rocking you from side to side, until the child thinks he has been ignored for long enough and begins to tug at the fabric of your pants. You look down at him as Yina lets go of you. You can’t help but chuckle at the little one. His big ears wiggling as you pick him up. He snuggles his little body into your embrace, big sleepy eyes looking from you to Yina. You feel your heart melt a little and it seems that Yinas heart does too, she gently strokes one of his ears as she speaks in a gentle voice still looking at the kid, but talking to you.

“You know, I have been thinking that you should get out and see the galaxy for a long time now. I had hoped that it would be under less drastic circumstances, but still…”

She moves her eyes from the child to you.

“There is much beauty out there, you deserve to see that.”

You feel a lump forming in your throat. Sweet loving Yina, is she going to be okay without you to help her. Will you be okay without her?

“Will you promise me one thing?” She asks you.

You nod, rearranging the kid in your arms so his head can rest against your shoulder.

“Find some water, a lake or maybe even an ocean. I still miss the lakes I grew up around, I want you to see how pretty water can be.”

You smile at this, remembering the tales of green landscapes and forests and lakes she would tell you as a child.

“I will try.” You say, making a weak smile appear on Yina’s face.

You and Yina sit down, gently talking as Mando and Peli finish the last things that needs to be done to the ship before your departure. The kid has fallen asleep on your shoulder. You are finally feeling like the adrenaline is leaving your body, finally making you able to have a coherent thought again. You begin to worry about the prospect of spending what could be weeks, maybe months on a small ship with who is practically a complete stranger. You have always had an easy time getting along with people and you have enjoyed the time you have spent with Mando so far, but that time has been very sparse. You really like the child - his cute face and sweet demeanour already has you wrapped around his finger.

But you don’t get to worry too much before Mando approaches you and Yina. He stands like he is going to say something, but he pauses, looking at the sleeping child in your arms before finally speaking.

“The Crest is ready to take off now, and we have to go soon. We can’t still be here when the sun begins to set.”

Mando holds his arms out to take the child from you, stepping a little away from the two of you again so you can say goodbye to your mother figure in peace.

“Yina I…” You begin, but you don’t know how to continue. You have not been away from her more than a couple of days since she took you in as an infant. You love her so much, and you don’t know any words that can fairly describe how much she means to you. She decides to talk instead.

“I won’t tell you that you were like the daughter I never had.” Her big black eyes are shiny with unshed tears. “You have been my daughter from the moment I first held you in my arms.”

She pulls you into a tight embrace, petting your hair.

“I love you my little star.” Her voice is now shaky. Your own grip is getting tighter.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better mother.” You whisper, with confidence. You have never called her mother before, but there has never been any doubt that that is how your relationship is.She squeezes you before finally letting go, her cheeks now wet. You can only remember a few times, in your entire life, that you have seen her cry and you know that you have to go now to not begin crying yourself. Peli loads your bags onto the ship for you, joining you and Yina after she is done to say her goodbye and holding a comforting arm around Yina when you go to the ramp of the Crest. Mando has put the kid into the pod that Yina also had brought with her from the inn along with Mandos few items he had left in his room. The Mandalorian says goodbye to Peli and Yina before joining you at the ramp.

“Mando!” Peli calls out, making him stop halfway up the ramp, he turns on his heels.

“You better take good care of her.” The short woman’s stern look could cut through metal. He does not answer, at least not with words. He gives her a single strong nod instead, much more powerful than any word could have been. It is a confirmation - a promise, he will keep you safe.

194 notes · View notes

elanorpam · 7 months

Note

Hey, ive been a fan of your cultstuck series since i first read it 10 years ago and its one that i hold dear along woth toastyglow and their siblings' works. Given that we are all adults now with very busy lives, i dont expect you to kerp up with an old project like writing a fan novel fpr free, but i am curious as what ur current plants for earthbent are, if there are any atm.

(Tbh id be happy with any answer you provide, whether its a detailed outline, an unsure shrug, an excited wink hinting at a deadline or an announcement of permanent hiatus. Youve given so much with your writing, thst i just want you to be happy with whatever plans u have)

hey there! i'm going to go with unsure shrug as an answer here.

see, I did have a detailed outline for cultstuck-- i wrote it all down at around ...2015? very soon after the second eridan chapter, and sent it to my beta, who then proceeded to ghost me forever. I was already sensing she was growing disinterested in the fic/the fandom, giving constant excuses, and I myself was dealing with an anxiety/depression combo that would sharply nosedive by the time the finale came around, so i just... let it go. She didn't care. I wasn't in a good mental place to care. We went our separate ways.

I decided to take a mental health sabbatical, and now, after a few years of sertraline and therapy, the thought of picking it back up is very, very far down my list of priorities. I have so many other fics I want to write, for media which hasn't let me this profoundly down! And also, Cultstuck was conceptualized in the post-cascade hiatus, in chat logs and rough outlines, and was never supposed to take later canon into account unless it dropped any interesting, matching lore...

...but late act 6 took such a dump on the characters and the setting that it took the joy right out of playing on my patch of sandbox, fenced off as it was. And I couldn't connect with the Retcon timeline at all, but some of its developments are so popular and so deeply entrenched that I hesitate to contradict them even though i kind of hate the whole thing and never meant to take it into account?

Let's take the strongest example: Davekat. Dave and Karkat in Cultstuck were never meant to be anything more than mutually annoying acquaintances connected only indirectly via Terezi-- Dave was to be her moirail, and aro-ace besides. This was because for the entirety of the comic, that was the only vibe I got from Dave as a character, and from his interactions with Karkat as a whole-- he and Karkat felt too similar in mutually unpleasant ways, like a cousin that's just enough like you to give you second-hand embarrassment. So by the point the comic was playing coy with pushing the New Dave and New Karkat action figures together, you couldn't get me to care about Davekat if you put a gun to my head. This really hasn't changed in the least. And that means whenever I think of dealing with disappointed Davekat fans in the future of the fic, I just feel an all-encompassing, soul-deep exhaustion.

but i also don't want to drop the fic altogether, for some reason? Like, I might not feel this way forever. So idk, i'm keeping my options open i guess. Subscribe to the fic/series and maybe 10 years from now you'll get a notification like a holiday miracle. Who knows.

#cultstuck #homestuck #homestuck thinks

27 notes · View notes

geddy-leesbian · 7 months

Text

hey look it's all my Serrennedy fic (note that I did not come up with tags for the AU's until making this post, meaning I have to go back to retroactively tag the posts I've made, which is going to take a while because tumblr's search is hot garbage.)

and also due to tumblr's search being garbage, searching my blog for my tags won't give you shit, but if you click to search all of tumblr instead, every post will show up. idk man, that's just how it is.

RE2 AU

started as a one-shot and then spiraled into a whole RE2 AU. the only thing I've written where things pretty much go right for them 💖 Leon isn't a government agent, Luis is a stay at home dad, and Claire and Luis lovingly bully Leon together.

tag: 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆.

How Do You Talk To Girls? (2/3 chapters posted)

❝Don Juan, eh? Always thought of myself as more of a Don Quixote, but if the shoe fits… How about we try some practice anyway? I can talk to you like I'd talk to a girl, give you a first-hand demonstration.❞ OR Leon tries to learn how to pick up women from Luis, and instead has a bisexual awakening and picks up Luis. Task Failed Successfully.

“𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝑰𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒖𝒅” (unpublished WIP)

Claire and Luis are getting married.

Something A Little More Plain

Not in the same continuity as the other two fics, but it is an RE2 AU, so I'm putting it here. Just really soft Luis being a dad to twins content. The only thing I've written about them that is just fluff and no angst.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

Signals // Childhood Friend AU

playlist

tag: 【𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙜𝙤.】

𝑇𝘩𝜀 𝛥𝜋𝛼𝑙𝜎𝑔 𝐾𝜄𝜕 (1988)

you move me, you move me. with your buildings and your eyes, autumn woods and winter skies. you call me, you call me.

»»————-💙————-««

somewhere out of a memory, of lighted streets on quiet nights… (1988)

»»————-💙————-««

ΠⴹⰞ Ⱎ⎕ᒥᒪᗪ ᎷᗅΠ (1988-2004)

he's old enough to know what’s right, but young enough not to choose it.

»»————-💙————-««

Digital Man // Open Secrets (2004) (1/? chapters posted)

Well I guess we all have these feelings we can’t leave unreconciled. Some of them burned on our ceilings, some of them learned as a child.

The things that we’re concealing will never let us grow. Time will do its healing, you’ve got to let it go.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

BU2B (aka Leon Fucking Dies)

(2/3 chapters posted)

❝That Agent Kennedy is proving to be quite a thorn in my side, much like you. I need him to live long enough for him to appreciate his gift and go home and begin to spread it to the rest of the world, but he's starting to cause a little too much trouble. But still, it would be a shame to have to kill him. Such a 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 it would be. If only there was some distraction to keep him occupied and out of trouble… You 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 him, don't you?❞ ❝This isn't about him. Say whatever you want about 𝘮𝘦, but keep 𝘩𝘪𝘴 name out of your mouth.❞ ❝But you'll want to hear this: He's quite fond of you too. He doesn't want to admit it, but I've been in his head. He likes it when you tease him. He 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘴 you. You could send him on wild goose chases over and over, and he'd just keep following you, until time ran out.❞

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫 (𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆)

My very first Serrennedy fic,,, someday there will be a second chapter, but I have zero idea of when because I've been fighting demons tbh (by demons I mean various rough drafts because I can't figure out what the fuck to do with it. The ideas are there,,,,, but the execution is not 🫠)

Luis thinks he's a shitty person. Leon disagrees.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

Other random stuff kicking around in my drafts (and feel free to ask about any of these because I love talking about them):

AU where Luis sabotages the Nemesis Project, gets caught, and sent to Rockfort Island.

Alfred Ashford notices that Luis was a child prodigy and thinks that's neat because he's a weirdo and Alexia was a child prodigy. So instead of being executed, Luis is forced to be his friend until Alexia wakes up from her cryo stasis thing. (And being his friend is not a good time, because he's a weirdo and threatens to get his sniper rifle and hunt down Luis for sport a lot.) Luis gets out when Claire does, and goes back to Valdelobos after to hide from Umbrella, meaning RE4 will still happen, although slightly different. Luis is much colder and very hesitant to help Leon, because trying to do the right thing previously got him sent to a concentration camp.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

DON'T WALK AWAY

Songfic. While Leon and Ashley are waiting on a helicopter to come pick them up post-RE4, Luis tries to quietly slip away, because he thinks he's a shitty person who doesn't deserve to have Leon. Leon notices him trying to leave and says fuck that and argues with him, insisting that he will come with Leon.

❘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘🖤⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘❘

Don't have a title yet, but a little thing where Leon gets a call from Chris right after he gets back from Spain. Chris says the BSAA has been conducting their own investigation into what happened, and they found someone ex-Umbrella they had been trying to track down for years severely injured, but alive while searching the place, who claims to know Leon and that Leon would vouch that he's a good person now.

#⛓𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼⛓#<- my general Luis Serra brain rot tag used for anything unrelated to a specific fic #【𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙜𝙤.】#𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 #<- general Serrennedy as dads tag #𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒. 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆.#resident evil fanfiction #serrennedy #guess I should tag this as edits too since I did put moodboards in #my edits #serennedy

21 notes · View notes

cupoftaae · 1 year

Text

Forever And A Day (KTH x READER) series ♡ The Art Exhibit (Chapter 6)

Summary: your lifelong friend is forced to face his true feelings for you once he breaks the number one rule of becoming friends with benefits: dont fall in love. He knows he loves you, but you on the other hand need more convincing of the most important thing: the right decision.

Genre: fwb. Roommates, friends to idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, the whole 9 yards tbh.

Pairing: taehyung x female!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni!!!)

word count- 5k

chapter warnings!- swearing, alcohol, this is kind of a fluffy ass chapter, but the end is a little frusterating. NO BAD VIBES THOUGH! reader is finally happy rn. tw: annie.

a/n- Hi guys! first of all, HAPPY SPRING! Also happy Ramadan to anyone who is celebrating!! I really wanted to publish this by last Monday at least, but I ended up getting a cold, and then I had an exam this week too that I crammed studied for. I wasnt happy with the ending of this chapter and wanted time to fix it up a bit!! we are getting to the good stuff now so I really hope you enjoy! (ps. another thanks to all the likers, rebloggers, commenters, it means so much to see feedback, ily guys.

The song of this chapter was on repeat while I wrote it !!

This week had been good.

For the first time in what seems like forever, life was actually giving you a break....sort of.

"Kwan, cmon! I promise French isnt that hard if you just sit and let me teach you!" you exhale with a wide smile, looking at the 6 year old who was now running around the living room.

Since Tae quit his job, you decided to start picking up after school shifts to tutor your neighbor, Mrs.Chin, and her bratty 6 year old. You used to tutor her other child, Mimi, who was always well behaved, but she went to study abroad, leaving you alone with the devil reincarnated.

"I dont wanna! its stupid!" the younger child yelled back, making you take a moment to breathe before responding. "Kwan, I would appreciate if you let me teach you, or at least if you even sat down and listened to me read." you said calmly.

You looked over at the pouting boy and his action figures, arms now crossed over his chest as he glared. You sighed and ran your hands over your face, lets just say if the pay wasn't $90 an hour, you probably wouldn't submit yourself to this.

"Kwan." you said, getting up with your textbook and sitting on the floor next to him "your mommy hired me to help you learn, I really want to be able to teach you something here, because whether you realize it now or not, learning a second language is a really beautiful thing" you show him all the pages of notes youve taken from your own classes, watching him view it over.

"I wanna be here for you, we can be buddies, ok? no more fights, no yelling. How about this-" you turn around to him "If you let me teach you for a half an hour, 30 minutes, you can have 20 minutes of playtime, yeah?" you spoke softly

"mmkay.." he looked at you, nodding gently.

"aw, see, you are a good boy I knew you were, cmon, sit and i'll teach you how to introduce yourself in French, so when you go to daycare tomorrow, you can show it off to everyone" you smiled and gently tickled the boy, making him giggle loudly.

You really did enjoy teaching and learning, something about it just made you feel incredibly intelligent, and yes, you loved acting too, but the idea of being able to offer something new to someone genuinely got you excited. If you could go back and change your major to anything, It would probably be French or some other foreign language, teaching abroad doesnt sound too bad.

At the apartment, Tae had been cleaning a little bit more. He figured if he was going to have more free time, then he needed to learn to help out around the house....He also needed a distraction from the fact that tomorrow night is the art exhibit, and to say he was nervous was a complete understatement.

The work he'd been creating is done, but like always, he wanted to change it last minute. You sat with him last night and explained that it didnt need to be changed, and he needs to be more confident with himself and his art.

His thoughts were interrupted when you walked through the door, offering a quick smile at him before walking off into the kitchen. He put down his broom and walked over to you, "How did tutoring go?" He asks softly, watching you pour coffee into a mug. "It was okay" you shrug, looking at the clock and internally sighing, it was dinner time and you hadnt prepared anything.

"You okay?" he asks

you look back at him and lean against the counter, "yeah...Kaito was supposed to pick me up at 8, and I sat outside texting and calling him until 8:30, when I decided to just get an Uber home"

"why didnt you call me? I would have drove over there" he frowns, leaning against the opposite counter. "ah, didnt want to bother you" you shrug.

He sighed and looked down. "I made you dinner, by the way" he spoke, making you look up at him warily. "by made, I mean bought, dont worry theres no food poisoning here" he rushed, making you giggle.

"thank you tae, I really appreciate that" you walk over to hug him gently, telling him you were gonna wash up and shower before eating.

He finished cleaning the living room before finally crashing on the couch, watching as you left your room with a towel on your head, making him laugh. "are you gonna tell me my fortune"

You scoff and grab your bulgogi, sitting onto the couch next to him.

"yummy?" he asks, searching for something to watch, "mhm" you smiled and offered a bite which he gladly took.

"oh also, Because tomorrow night is the art show, I was thinking afterwards we should get dinner or something..." he trailed off, avoiding eye contact.

you turned your head to him, smiling softly, "hm that sounds fun. are we thinking Mcdonalds?" you giggle, making him laugh as well.

"nooo, no" his head shook, "I dont know yet, I'll look around."

"we can go to that Korean barbecue place that just opened, and celebrate your win" you shrug

"we dont know if Im gonna win, there are many talented artists participating. I have like no chance, y/n."

you scoff and shake your head, "you are telling me, that THE Kim Taehyung has no chance? I dont believe this!"

He smiled and watched as you rambled about how he has worked for this and deserves it, laughing quietly.

"yeah...I dont even care for the money to be honest. I Just want to go to Paris again...it was fun when we went last time" he sighed.

You chewed your food and nodded, standing up in front of him with your hands on your hips, "Mr.Kim, I am putting it into the universe now, that if somehow you dont win, I will make sure we both go to Paris once more"

"really?" he spoke after a moment, unable to take you seriously with the towel head.

"really"

"I dont think Kaito would like thattt" he sung jokingly, getting up and grabbing the blanket from the other side of the couch, covering himself in it.

"I dont careeee" you sung back before jokingly jumping onto him, squeezing his face as you continued to speak. "I dont even know where he is right now, probably drunk or something"

"does he get drunk a lot?" tae asked, smiling as you poked around his face with your hands. "yeah....kinda. He can handle it most times but.." you cut yourself off, not wanting to say anything else.

"but what?" tae asked, head turning to yours as you laid on him. Your eyes simply scanned over his face as he did the same with you. The urge to kiss him was there, but you knew better.

You got up and off him, making him sit up and look at you. "but what?" he repeated

"nothing" you smiled before stealing his blanket and running off to your room, making him get up to chase after you.

You were both laughing, but Tae was still catching his breath. You looked like you wanted to kiss him, no? His mind ran around in circles, ultimately convincing himself that he really does need to drop this and stop over analyzing everything.

He sat into his bed that night, looking over at his painting which leaned against his desk. He so desperately wanted tomorrow to be perfect, he wanted to win, but he also wanted to impress you.

His mind wandered down the rabbit hole. was it too clingy to ask to go to dinner after? was he annoying you and you didnt have the heart to tell him?

He rolled his face against his pillow, sighing heavily as tannie ran up and jumped on the bed, cuddling with him.

Across the hall you paced your room, glasses on as you tried to memorize your studying and figure out an outfit for tomorrow.

You gently hummed to yourself before moving the coat hangers around to see what you had, you dont exactly have 'art show' worthy clothes. You knew that ultimately it didnt matter, it wasnt about you, it was about him.

You climbed into bed and wrapped up your homework, deciding to pull your phone out and see if your boyfriend called or texted.

0 notifications

you sighed and opened up messages, texting him quickly.

you: hey....I hope you are okay? You havent texted or anything, im a little worried. you were supposed to pick me up today and then go for like coffee or something. did you forget? its okay if you did, just hope you are safe.

you bit your lip as you sent the message, waiting for a few minutes for a possible reply, but ultimately receiving nothing.

"ah, Yun Y/n, you really have impressed me, this is amazing"

you looked at your theatre teacher with hopeful eyes, glad that she appreciated the project script you stayed up to finish last night.

You bowed politely, "thank you so much, that means a lot"

"of course" she responded, taking her glasses off, "I really do hope you decide to take this class next year, you are one of my best students and I think the incoming freshmen would love to learn from your writing skills"

you smiled and nodded, "I dont see any reason why I wouldnt stay" you laughed lightly, making her nod, "good!"

she handed you your papers back with the received grade, allowing you to walk out into the hallway to see a certain someone.

"um...hello?" you spoke, aggravation evident in your voice. Kaito looked up from his bag at you, a guilty expression now showing.

"y/n, baby im sorry about yesterday"

"Look, I dont care about the pick-up thing, why couldnt you text me this morning even? I thought you died or something"

he laughs yet you were not amused. "My phone broke" he cleared his throat. You sigh and look around. "you know how many phones are on campus? you also have so many classes with Chae, would it kill you to relay the message?"

"im sorry, ok?"

you glared at him. 'Sorry' had become his broken record repeated phrase lately, and honestly, it didn't sound all to genuine anymore.

"yeah" you shrug and begin to walk away before he stops you. "Oh, are you free tonight?"

you stop and turn, shaking your head, "no, I have plans"

He scoffs, "doing what?"

"I have an art show with Taehyung and its late, we are going right home after"

"I see" he nods sarcastically, obviously pissed off. "are you going to the party that Jungkook is throwing at least?" he adds

"oh yeah....Dahyun invited me, I'll be there I guess" you mumble

"good" he smiled and held your cheek, making you look up at him. "dont bring him, okay?"

you look over his face before rolling your eyes and turning to walk to your next class.

Things lately with Kaito havent been as well as you had planned. When you two first started dating, the romance was there, there was a spark within sharing similar interests and likes, there were cute dates, late night conversations. As you find yourself walking down the hall, you wish that perhaps you never got to know the quiet boy in your acting class. You ponder about what would have happened if you two just remained friends, strangers, even.

His drinking was something you had been made aware of by a few classmates, but you can only blame yourself for ignoring them. As much as you hated to admit it, you didnt care in the moment. You are a young girl, who has vulnerabilities and of course wishes to find someone that makes her feel special....but given that....you also deserve pride, and the power to know, or to walk away from situations that arent helping you grow.

You dont ask much of kaito, he couldn't even pick you up on time and let you know why. It was borderline pathetic. He was pathetic, and the marks still evident on your wrist were enough to prove it.

you dont know what you had done in a past life to get such shitty treatment from men, but you could only pray that either the universe sends you in a different direction, or fixes the broken path you are currently trying to fight through.

"I called the restaurant, they take walk ins" Taehyung cheerfully spoke, barging into your room to see you sitting with your back towards him, papers sprawled around your desk surface.

"thats good" you mumble, refusing to turn around at the excited boy.

Taehyung notices the shift in your voice, the way your back is slumped over as you hid yourself in the piles of paper and homework. As he walked over, small droplets of tears resting on the wooden desktop below you are visible. You had been crying. A gentle hand comes up to graze against your back, remaining still for a moment before he spoke. "Y/N, whats going on?"

You sniffled, wishing that you could just be alone but also refraining against sending the boy out, he just wanted to help. "Im just stressed" a simple shrug and a blow of the nose make taehyung sit on the end of your bed as he faces you, deciding its enough distance from you, but not too much. "do you wanna talk about it?" he asks softly, his hair resting in front of his eyes, its grown so long these days.

You looked back at him and remained quiet for a moment before opening your mouth, "no" you shook your head. "I just....I just want tonight to be fun, I want you to have fun, I want this for us, just one day without anything pulling us down, okay?"

Taehyung nodded slowly, not sure what could have sent you into a spiral like this, but respecting your decision to not speak on it. "Okay, yeah, we will have fun okay?" he whispers, hand now holding yours as he got closer to you, wiping away your tears. "don't cry, everything will be alright sweet girl" he brings you into a tight hug as his words are close to brining you to cry again. You can blame it on being hormonal, but something about the comforting nature of the boy in front of you made you just want to constantly be there, support and love him for what he is. You would cling to him like a koala if you had the chance.

but he wasn't yours, and you were not his.

You had not been the best friend to taehyung for the past few weeks, something youve tried to make up for by either cooking, or buying him new art tools. You even stayed up late with him a few nights ago just letting him rant about all the shit on his plate. It made you realize that this boy would tell you every little detail about his life, he trusts you so much, yet you couldnt even be honest about the kaito situation.

Guilt was the best emotion to describe the feeling in your chest.

The best thing you could do tonight is to treat him like he were king of the world, he deserves a break, and it would kill you to have to be the one to ruin it again.

You sniffled and looked back at him, "so are you gonna show me the menu of the restaurant or what?"

Taehyung laughed lightly, squeezing your hand as he helped you up and led you out into the living room with him.

Every time Taehyung see's you upset, he feels as if those emotions transfer to him. If he could snap his fingers, or wave some magic wand, he would make it so you never cried again. A part of him was upset that you didnt feel comfy enough to open up about what exactly was bothering you, yet at the same time, he was able to understand your reasoning. You two fought more in the past few months than you have in your entire lives, it felt like walking on eggshells every time he spoke, he was fearful of losing you as a friend, so he made sure each word that came out of his mouth was nothing but delicate, kind, and loving.

He buttoned up his suit, smiling at himself in the mirror as he sprayed on some cologne you bought for him last Christmas. He remembers how much you loved to cuddle up to him when he got home from work, hiding your face in his neck, complimenting how good he had smelled.

Seems like those memories are so distant, in a way he almost mourns them. He is grateful to even have you at all, but as time goes on he truly believes he may never get over you, that you will always just be the one that actually got away.

He looks down at his drawer in his bathroom, the drawer that had been shared by you whenever you had used his bathroom. It hadnt been open in a while, but as he looked through it, he couldnt help but laugh.

purple nail polish.

You asked him if you had left it in his bathroom and he told you no. He thought it was cute that its the shade youve always worn. He even bought you a new bottle just so he could keep the one you left behind.

His mind flickers back to when you had begged him to let you paint his nails, after about 30 minutes of pestering, he finally gave in, letting you give him the full spa treatment.

He softly smiled as he examined the polish, carefully putting it back before walking out and into the living room.

"AHH you look so cute!" you giggled and ran up to him, squishing his bread cheeks. Tae had never worn a suit before, but you took him shopping a few days ago and convinced him he would look really good in one, and he has to admit he feels pretty well fit in it.

You fluffed his hair up and smiled softly, watching his eyes scan over you, something that made you blush. "You look really good, is this a new dress?" he asked quietly

"wow you noticed" you teased

"Of course, you look so pretty in it" He wanted to go on, he wanted to tell you how beautiful your smile looked and how it didnt matter what you wore, because in the museum full of brilliant art, he probably would only be able to look at you tonight.

"thank you" you shyly spoke, "are you ready?"

He held up his canvas, smiling brightly and nodding. "Here" you placed a plastic bag over the art so it wouldnt get destroyed or ruined in any way, especially since it was raining out.

"thank you" he spoke, lifting it up again before grabbing the umbrella and walking towards the door. "Lets go win that prize and rub it in everyones face" you tease, cheering as you made your way down the hall, tae walked behind and watched your childish nature, giggling to himself.

It was crowded.

You didnt even know there was this many art students in your school.

"just stay with me, its okay" Tae whispered to you after dropping off his artwork at the front table so they could enter it into the contest. He noticed your fidgety state, gently grabbing one of your hands with his own. You offered a light squeeze in acknowledgment.

"Taehyung!!!"

You both turned around to see Annie running up, smiling brightly with a glass in her hand. "Uhg Im so glad you made it, did you submit your work??"

"yeah I just gave it to them" he pointed at the adults working the table. "great, I seriously cant wait to see your work hung up, I know whatever it is will be beautiful."

"ah thank you, you are too kind" he spoke softly, feeling your grip on his arm tighten.

"Hi Annie" you spoke, annoyed that she chose to ignore you. "Oh hi!" she waved. "Im sorry, I forgot your name, what is it sweetheart?"

Taehyung scoffed quietly, stopping you from speaking before him "Her name is Y/N, I only talk about her all the time" he looked down at you, offering a reassuring smile.

"Oh, I forget everything im sorry" she giggled loudly. "cmon, lets go get something to drink" She tugged on his other arm eager to get him away from you.

"do you want anything?" he mouthed to you, making you shake your head. "no, go have fun" you offer, watching him give into annie's aggression with a sad smile, walking away.

You took your time walking around the exhibit, stopping at each frame to read the small descriptions and notes. You were never super artsy like Taehyung was, but it was impressive to see how dedicated he was.

you made your way through the large crowds of chatter, searching for taehyung before spotting him in the corner by the food stand. You walked over and gently hugged him from behind, it wasnt an act of anything, you just hated being in crowded areas, so you clung to him as best you could. His hand gently grazed along your arm before turning, a audible scoff from Annie is heard as he turns to face you.

"Hi sweet girl, You okay?"

"yeah" you nod, "I was just looking at all the art, which is beautiful but I think they have nothing on yours"

"Youre biased" he chuckled

"tsk tsk, I tell the truth" you giggled, hugging him as you rested your head on his chest, his arms around you loosely. To any onlookers, you two were a couple.

You both are naturally cling people, perhaps it can be to blame for how you both fell so easily into the friends with benefits thing.

"I didnt know you guys were dating" annie took a sip of her wine, gesturing between the both of you.

"oh no, we arent" you quickly spoke, "we are just really close"

"ah..." she trailed off and gave a knowing look to Taehyung, making him shrug. He didnt like to be mean, but he also liked seeing how jealous she got of you. He would never date Annie, and he felt guilty for maybe leading her on, but he feels pride in knowing that shes jealous of you.

you are his girl whether you were dating, friends, anything, everyone knew that.

"they have food if you are hungry" he suggested, patting your back to get your attention.

"Oh, thats okay, im saving room to stuff my face with Tteokbokki later" you both giggled,

"lets go look around, yeah?"

you nodded and grabbed his hand, leading him away from the judgmental girl watching you both like a hawk.

You noticed his frown as you sat in front of a canvas filled wall, "whats wrong, tae?"

"these are all....amazing..." he gestured towards a few, head lost in thought and self doubt.

"bubs, i promise you, yours is just as good if not better. remember what I said, no matter what happens, the outcome will be okay" you rubbed his shoulder, watching a small smile appear on his face.

"everything will be okay" he whispered to himself, taking a deep breath before nodding

As the night went on, guests were informed that the ranking and award ceremony would be taking place in just 15 minutes. Taehyung had been wrapped up in conversation with another one of his classmates, eyes absent mindedly searching around the banquet hall for you.

You told him a bit ago that you were gonna go grab a drink, and its been 10 minutes.

Across the room, little to his knowledge, you were wrapped up in your own conversation with a boy who caught you admiring his own work. "It took me a few months" the boy spoke softly, both of you standing in front of his painting. "You didnt want so submit it into the competition?" you asked, watching him shake his head. "I dont need people judging my art, it doesnt matter what they think. I like being able to just put it out into the world for what it is, I dont need a prize for that"

You were taken back by how well and soft spoken he was, unsure how to respond, "Whats your name by the way?"

"My name is Jung Hoseok" he bowed his head lightly, smiling brightly at you. "Ah nice to meet you Hoseok, Im Yun Y/N"

"pleasure meeting you" he spoke, shaking your hand. "so are you here tonight for your own art?" he added

"oh no, no, I am definitely not an artist", you giggled. "Im here with my best friend, he is the one participating tonight"

Taehyung finally found an out in the conversation and began his search for you, pushing through the room to see you standing next to some stranger. He would be lying if he said he didnt like to see you with other men, especially Hoseok, who was in his art class. He would rather you be standing with Kaito at that point.

"Oh taehyung!" Hoseok greeted the man you didnt even know stood behind you, making you turn and smile. "Sorry, I got lost" you giggled, taking his hand as he moved beside you. "Hello Hoseok" tae bowed his head.

"Y/N told me you are trying for the contest, good luck, I heard the judges tend to pick favorites" he laughed and tapped his arm, making him awkwardly smile. "I think he will be ok, wait until you see his painting, its beautiful" you spoke up

"Im sure" he looked at you both, bowing politely before walking off into a new conversation with his nearby friends.

"dont let his charm get to you, he isnt the nicest person" taehyung turns and speaks, gently leading you back to the front of the banquet hall.

"What? he seemed so sweet" you spoke

"I heard he is kind of....you know....like, he likes to play with multiple women at once" he explained as best he could, making you smile, "a man whore" you suggested, making him laugh. "yeah, a man whore"

"dont worry, Im not interested. Ive had enough boy drama to keep me away from any penis within a 5 mile radius" You spoke, watching Taehyung burst out in laughs. "speaking of him, is kaito mad you are here?"

"If he is, I dont care, tonight isnt about him, only you"

A few moments later, everyone had gathered into the front of the banquet hall, a panel of 3 judges proudly standing on the small stage ready to reward the prizes in rankings of the top 5 works of art submitted tonight.

"I am so nervous" Taehyung whispered, not directly at anyone but himself. You looked back and smiled, grabbing his hand and entwining it with your own. "Stop stressing, your hair is gonna go grey." you both quietly giggled before the lady on the mic began to speak.

"Thank you all so much for coming to our annual art banquet show, this is the 11th year we have been graciously welcomed back and we could not be more excited as the number of participants grow each year." she adjusted her glasses before speaking again. "Tonight is not about winning, or being the best, it is about recognizing talent of all unique levels, seeing things from other peoples eyes, its about the beauty of art"

The audience clapped lightly, making you smile as you looked around at everyone piled up together in anticipation.

"With that, I believe we are ready to begin the gift ceremony. The other judges and I graded on not only the art itself, but the impact received through it, we were looking for those who went outside the box, and we are happy to say we were not disappointed."

Taehyung looked at the black cloths that hung over the art work that was pinned on the wall up front, unsure if his was one of them or not.

"I'll remind everyone of the prizes, 5-3 place recieve a generous cash prize, as well as a discounted art session for next semester, 2 place recieves a larger amount of cash, while 1st place gets a visit to the Louvre Museum in Paris France, fully paid!"

The crowd happily cheers, the excitement in the room can easily be felt. You were nervous for Taehyung, not because you didnt think he could win, but you knew how much he wanted this trip. You wanted to see him happy, and most importantly, you wanted him to be proud of himself.

"We will now begin" The older woman walks to the lined up art, standing in front of one. "In 5th place, we will happily be awarding this to...." she gently pulled the black sheet off, revealing the art as the crowd clapped happily.

"Seo Yoon, with 'a walk with existence'"

you looked around to see the girl stand up and go to collect her certificate, bowing and thanking the judges.

"4th place, goes to.... Park Jimin, with 'serendipity'"

Everyone cheered as the younger man walked up to join the others.

You felt taehyungs hand squeeze yours lightly, as the 3rd person was revealed and it wasnt him, now he was eager. He either got 2nd, 1st, or none at all.

you gently rubbed his back as the woman went to reveal 2nd place. "In 2nd, we have..." the painting was revealed, "Kang Annie, with 'daydream'"

You both looked at eachother, "I didnt think her art was that good" taehyung claps but whispers in your ear, making you giggle and hold his arm for support. The tension in the room grew as the judge made her way to the remaining painting, the cloth gathering in her hand.

"and for first place, we, the judges have decided to reward...." the curtain felt like it fell in slow motion, taehyung quite literally on the edge of his seat.

"Kim Taehyung with 'Forever and a day'"

You jumped up immediately as his name was called, his beautiful painting on display for everyone to see as claps and "congratulations" were gifted his way.

"I won?" he mumbled, standing as you grabbed him close, hugging him tightly. "I fucking knew you could win!!! Im so proud!!!' you cupped his face and smiled, making him smile as well.

"get up there and claim your prize" you mumble, urging him up to the stage where he went to collect his prize and certificate. "Congratulations to everyone who won, and everyone who participated! lets get a round of applause for all the talent here tonight"

The room clapped loudly as you caught his eye, smirking and chanting loudly, maybe a bit too loudly for an art show. He laughed and congratulated the other winners, giving annie some bullshit answer when she joked about being his Paris plus one.

"You have no fucking idea how proud I am, Taehyung" you hugged him once more as you two started to get ready to head out. He made sure you took 10 million photos of his painting on display, making it your lock screen on your phone.

"I still cant believe I won.....it doesnt feel real" He joked, linking your arm with his as you both made your exit after saying goodbyes to everyone.

"wait until it hits, you are gonna be so proud of yourself. Paris....PARIS, taehyung, this shit is huge. Im not gonna lie, I almost cried when I heard your name"

"you did not!" he chuckled as you both walked to your car.

"Yes I did, you just dont get it" you teased "felt like such a power moment, you just know annie was pissed too....little bitch"

Taehyung bit back his laugh as he sat in the drivers seat, pulling his seatbelt on and resting his head back as you got in. "Thank you for everything, for coming....for just being my support" he spoke kindly, wide grin stuck on his face.

"dont thank me, im always gonna be here for you, seriously. Now, lets go eat until we get full, order dessert we cant finish, take it home and get drunk" You put your seatbelt on, car filled with excitement and giggles as he began to drive to dinner.

He really did feel excited, He was mostly in shock on how he was able to win something he threw together last minute.

Blame it on the alcohol, but some deep part of him wanted to come clean in this very moment, as you were now in the crowded restaurant, music blasted as you sang loudly, you looked so beautiful and alive.

The painting was about you.

Taehyung spent hours dedicating himself to that painting, and it was about you. It seemed like a perfect time to just rip the bandaid off right now, a night where everything was going right.

"y/n..." he mumbled, watching as you happily looked over at him, his heart now in his throat. you stopped dancing and made your way over to where he sat at the bar, your drunken self leaning forward to hear him over the music.

"I just wanted to tell y-"

"youre so handsome, jesus christ I hate you" you interrupt, words slurring as you look at him lovingly.

He knows you are drunk, but the comment still made him laugh, "thank you" he whispered as you walked back out to the dance floor, dragging him with you.

"ah y/n, im not really a dancer"

"you dont need to be, just listen to the music and feel it" you shout, jumping around and holding his hands. He has to admit, seeing you away from your usual tight knit persona was really attractive, of course he admired you always, but he never saw this side before, it was new and exciting.

He allowed himself to relax a bit, taking another shot before finally giving in and dancing with you in the crowded bar. "thats it!" you yell, jumping around with him as you both fell into fits of giggles. "cmere" you turned around and pressed your back to his chest, and even in his drunken state, his heart still fluttered at the sudden contact. You carefully danced against him, not in a promiscuous way, simply just a light sway.

You two ended up spending a bit too much money at the bar, making tae ultimately put a cap on the drinks for the night. You werent ready to leave yet, so he ordered a basket of fries and water, sitting at a table with you in the next room.

"we have to sober up just a little bit, I still have to drive home" he giggled and sat beside you, taking a few fries and shoving them into his mouth. "thanks bubs" you slur, eating the fries and chugging water like you havent had any in weeks.

"are you having the best day of your life?" you ask, making him smile, "yeah, I am actually" he held a fry up and fed it to you. "good, me too" you spoke, mouth open and full of food.

the two of you sat and spoke until you felt some of the alcohol waving off, "hmm, do you wanna go home?" you asked him, noticing how tired you both were getting.

It had been almost 5 hours youve been here, and you didnt want him to only stay because you wanted to.

"yeah...its kinda late" he smiled softly, standing up and helping you.

"youre okay to drive?" you ask, watching as he looked into the next room, listening to the jazz song that was playing.

"tae?" you walk over, watching him turn and smile. "wait, before we leave.." he held your hand and led you into the other room. "dance with me, just one last song" he looked down at you, and there was no way to say no to him.

You two were surrounded by some older couples, all of them turning their attention to you as you made your way into the center of the floor, saxophone blaring through the speakers.

Taehyungs long arms wrapped loosely around your waist, resting just above your butt, your arms reaching up to hold his shoulders as you two slowly swayed to the music.

"Why are you looking at me like that" you mutter, thankful for the dark lighting hiding the current blush on your face.

"Like what?" he smiled

You shrug, giggling softly, "I dont know" you bit your lip and looked at him, alcohol still able to be felt deep in your veins.

"whats so funny, hm?" he teased, looking directly at you with a wide smile, "whats my girl always laughing about?"

you shyly looked down, the weight of his gaze too much. Your head rested against his chest as butterflies filled your stomach. this was wrong.

"you cant say that" you whine quietly

"why not?" he stood back and gently spun you around, making you smile as your hands returned to his shoulders.

"because....im not your girl" you mumble, eyes fixated on both of your feet below.

He sighed and rested his head against yours, words not needed, yet actions saying much more as his hands squeezed your waist gently, rubbing up and down carefully.

you looked up at him finally as the song was coming to a close and allowed yourself to just be, smiling as he looked at you. "You will always be my girl" he whispered so only you two could hear, he quickly turned, grabbing your hand. "lets head home"

You felt breathless, and most of all guilty....but not in the way most would think. You were guilty about not feeling guilty. You had fun, and you werent going to apologize for the mindless flirting that occurred tonight.

The both got out of the car and jumped under the hood of your apartment complex, looking at the rain pouring.

"I had fun, tae..."

"I did too" he looked at you hopefully, his hand returning to yours.

"we need more time for just us, we've been so wrapped in other shit" you sigh, the sound of rain surrounding both of you.

"I agree, I dont care what we do, im always enjoying myself with you"

You smirk and jokingly jump towards him, embracing him tightly "ahhh tae tae...what will I do with you, little art boy" you smile as he laughs.

You both pull away, arms still on eachother as you stood outside your home. There was a moment of quietness, eyes scanning over eachothers faces.

"Tae...." you whisper, gathering your thoughts before he slowly leans in, nose brushing yours. The top of his lip grazes against yours as you lean in, suddenly realizing what was happening as you pull your head away.

He didnt react sharply, just watching you with sad eyes.

"we cant" you whispered, shaking your head

"why not?"

"because we dont know what we are doing tae, we know better than this." you firmly say

"do we?" he spoke calmly, eyes still fixated on you.

"yes.."

He looks down at your hands, squeezing them "please...."

You frown when he isnt looking, dragging your hand to pull his wet hair out of his face. "Im sorry" you softly spoke, rubbing your thumb over his cheek, "lets go get some rest, yeah?"

he waits a moment before nodding, silently following you into the apartment.

You werent sure what exactly was in the air tonight, but you knew something changed, and maybe it was the universe finally answering your call.

A/n: sorry ...

Tag list:

@turnthepageandbeburnt @taebangtanbabe @borahaexoxo @lelefoodlover @tan-veee

62 notes · View notes