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alluringjae · 3 years

Text

it’s a royal order - jjh

⤑ summary: one of your royal campaigns became a success, and your bodyguard jaehyun was there to see it all happen. it’s only fair to celebrate, right?

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 2k

⤑ genre: fluff, suggestive (dirty talk, jaehyun got a daddy kink, superiority complex!!), implied smut | bodyguard!jaehyun, princess!reader, slight enemies to lovers!au, modern royal!au (where south korea remains under monarchial power)

⤑ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drugs, family problems and therapy, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: this is definitely less emotional than all i do is wait! i got this idea from a show i really enjoyed before it got cancelled named the royals. specifically, i really liked the story of eleanor and jasper, which is the whole princess x bodyguard dynamic. the pining and tension, ugh! if you know this show or not, it doesn’t matter. anyways, thank you for the 30+ followers and 200 notes on aidiw! enjoy!

i need holy water because of this piece.

⤑ credits to jeongjaehyuns for the gif above uwu

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

“On behalf of the royal family, I would like to extend my utmost support for the Anti-School Violence campaign for all students to have a safer and more meaningful learning environment.” You proudly announced to the board of officials alongside other influential individuals in Korean society.

Being the only princess in the current royal line may have its pressures, but holding a strong, direct impact for a brighter future for the people motivated you to take advantage of your platform for the better. As the image of pure innocence and revamped women empowerment, you aimed to accomplish all the things your mother wished she could before her untimely death alongside your personal aspirations.

Expressing genuine joy with the campaign, with a tinge of desire to annoy the old-fashioned and closeminded officials, your prying eyes were more enamored by a certain man in the back clapping by the ballroom doors. You can’t help but act flustered whenever he witnessed you in a state of success and satisfaction.

This man went by the name Jeong Jaehyun, your trusted bodyguard since you were in your early twenties. 3 years later, he still stuck by your side and helped you endure all the darkness as a royal.

Back then, you went through a rebellious phase that was ruining the image of your family. Clubbing almost every night, drugs, skipping school, you even managed to get all assigned bodyguards to quit! The media ate up all your tricks, turning them into scandals. That was the plan, of course. You desired your own freedom from all the royal obligations because you didn’t ask to be born into that lifestyle. To all of your peers who wished to be in your footsteps, you would’ve impulsively passed your title to them. There’s so much deception that lies behind the glitz and glam of it all.

This unexpected change in your former untainted attitude came to the point that your father, the king himself, stepped in and personally assigned one of his men to get you in check. He figured that appointing a guard nearest your age may lessen the tension and mend you back together.

In the start, you absolutely despised him. There was no way to fool him when you were up to no good. He easily found your alcohol and drug stash which he disposed of on the spot and stood by your bedroom door every night so you wouldn’t sneak out past curfew (which your father also strictly implemented).

One big turning point in your relationship was when he rushed you to the royal hospital when you drank a cocktail that went unnoticeably spiked. To think that this was a typical social gathering with other royals and officials, you’re a constant target to many. You didn’t wake up for a few days, and the entire time, Jaehyun willingly stood by your bedside and outside your hospital room.

Since that and more instances your father insisted you get involved in royal affairs, you softened up. As cliché as it was, the more time spent with him, the more you knew about him and vice versa. He was the one that got you to fully open up about your grief towards your late mother, encouraging you to seek help. Turns out you weren’t as different as you thought despite your differing ranks in society when he also had a void for a missing parent. In his case, it was his father, who ditched his family for his mistress. Silently, you helped each other recover from your traumas alongside therapy. From dreading his presence, you started treating him more casually. Your father’s tactic of assigning a bodyguard around your age admittedly worked.

Oh, how time flies.

This campaign was the last thing on your weekend agenda, so you had the entire late afternoon and evening to yourself. Bowing one last time to the audience, you stepped down from the platform and accepted the soft hand of your bodyguard, who quickly made his way to you despite the flashing cameras. It was something he got used to as it is part of the job.

Once he successfully ushered you out of the ballroom, his hand still held yours. Nothing new, except this event was quite public and you didn’t want anyone to get any wrong ideas. Strolling down one of the many hallways in the palace became a pastime for the both of you, where no one can catch you. It was a safe haven within the destructive life of the Park kingdom.

“You did phenomenal as I expected, your highness.” Jaehyun complimented, recalling your panic the night before as the stage fright hit strong when you were reciting your speech to him over and over again.

“We are in private, Jaehyun. Must you really use those formalities with me?” You taunted, bobbing your head sideways mockingly. With him could you felt like a normal young adult, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Jaehyun loved being frisky with you, catching you get irked up. And he was up to do it again.

“Hmm last time we strolled these halls, Yuta caught us making out after a successful meeting with the Prime Minister.”

You gasped at his statement, conscious of whoever may be in the vicinity. But before you could refute, your hand that was interlocked with his were mightily slammed against the white wall. You lost your breath for a moment, his warm body closely on yours. His free hand freely roamed up and down your covered waist. His lips were dangerously near your neck, where you’re sensitive. Your hips naturally grinded against him to release the pent-up tension.

“Something tells me you want to do it again, princess?” Now he’s just using your title as a pet name, but you couldn’t complain. It just hits differently when the situation was set up like this.

“I deserve it, don’t I? Got a lot of those hell-driven officials on my side for this round.” You raised both your brows cockily, licking your lips.

“Hell yeah, you do.” Finally, he rids of the tension and plants open kisses on your bare neck. Your throaty moans were uncontrollable, and you could care less.

“My princess,”

Kiss.

“So intelligent,”

Kiss.

“So benevolent,”

Kiss.

“So helpful,”

Kiss.

“But,” He changed his pace and direction, swollen lips near your ear.

“But?” You question naïvely. He scoffed, smirking at your antics of playing dumb.

“But a total slut for her bodyguard.” He dominantly planted his lips against yours, one of his veiny hands gripping on your waist and the other by the arch of your butt. He was hungry, needy even. Due to your shared schedules, it’s been a constant struggle to have proper alone time from the snooping eyes of Korean society. After all, it wasn’t in the norm for a princess to fall deep for her bodyguard. Nor were you sure you would be accepted by anyone. Yuta, the bodyguard of your oldest brother, the crowned prince Jinyoung, finding the both of you at that time was a total shock but didn’t care either.

All that mattered was that your feelings towards each other are real and strong. Accepted or not, you had each other.

All this lust put you in a daze, wanting much more than another smooch fest in the hallway. Tugging on his belt, he squeezed your butt tightly. You emitted a moan, which allowed his tongue access. No way could you keep your hands to yourself, touching his upper body and the flexing of his abdominal muscles from his button-up. You felt his now hard member poking through.

Analyzing your area, you were on the other side of the palace. Farther to your bedroom where numerous rendezvouses were made, one kink you’ve considered in the past amplified your mind. Considering this area was also the king’s side, and he was abroad for royal affairs, this was your chance.

“I have an idea, my love. You up for it?” You rose a brow at your lover, challenging him. Not one to overpower this man in bed, but always suggesting a way on how to spice it up.

“And what exactly does your feral brain want to do with me, princess?” His finger lifted your chin so you meet eye to eye. You can just see the fire still burning, and oh how you were ready to intensify it.

“The main ballroom, where my father and late mother’s throne rest, are a few doors away.” Your fingers signal him to lower his stance as his tall height was difficult to reach. With a sneaky smirk,

“Let me ride you in the king’s throne, my love.” Your lips brushed over his and sucked his bottom lip, tugging him by his belt. He groaned, squeezing your butt. “It’s a royal order.”

“Nasty, your highness. Insanely nasty, you are.” His hands hoisted your waist, boosting you up in his arms. You gasped with profanities, ravenously cut off by his lips again. His nails digging deep in your bare thighs, your legs naturally linked themselves around his torso while your arms passionately intertwined his broad neck.

In between kisses, he carried you to the said main ballroom. One of your wildest imaginations, just a second away. This room remained to be the only place without any guards stationed technological advancements or updated interior designs to preserve its traditional beauty. Dated as far as the 19th century, only special events were held and the highest of the high were allowed inside. Spacious, surrounded by gold linings majestic paintings of angels from above with a huge crystal chandelier right above the center. Right ahead, the original thrones that your ancestors, grandparents, and parents sat on when they were throned in its pure glory.

Pushing your lover on the king’s throne, the gold sun-like rays plastered behind the headrest, he cockily leaned back and manspread his legs for comfort. He rubbed his hands before patting his thigh, waiting for your submission. But you weren’t going to give in just yet.

Not when you prepared a mini-show just for him underneath your designer silk dress.

Jaehyun’s solemn eyes marveled over your gorgeous figure as you stripped down one strap after the other. Due to its silk fabric, it effortlessly dropped down to your figure to reveal a new set of black lace lingerie from your previous trip to Paris. Ages ago, Jaehyun unhesitatingly ripped your favorite ones during his birthday, so you decided to get a mature version of it. A version where your bra lifted your breasts more and undies hiked up to your waist to elongate your legs. Only for the eyes of yourself and the man in front of you, establishing that you were a powerful woman who can be absolutely anyone she can be. Princess, a normal young adult, or his slut, it’s up to you how you see yourself.

Jaehyun mumbled all the profanities he could think of at the moment. Looking like a divine angel when the sun from outside shuns behind you, his slacks tightening so much more than a while ago.

“All this for me?” He ogled shamelessly, undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and untying his necktie. “What did I do to deserve such regal treatment?”

You sneered at his comment, stepping out your dress in your heels and stationing right in front of his luring lap. “You’ve always been there for me, thick and thin. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Lowering yourself to straddle him, his breath hissed when your damp core collided with his crotch. Distracted and caught in your trap, “I don’t think you answered my question, my love.”

Rather than a verbal response, he roughly pulled you back in for a kiss. His hands scattered to explore from your back down to your waist. Your hands messily ran through his hair, tugging on some when your body got too sensitive to his wild touches. The thrilling sounds of the two of you drowning in your fiery romance bounced throughout the ballroom, not minding if anyone passed by the hallways outside. It was a private room after all, and whatever happens here, stays here.

Rolling on his crotch while his lips trailed down to your collarbones, the quick snap of your bra wires echoed. The tight lift lessened as Jaehyun’s fingers dropped the straps, unveiling your bare chest covered in his marks.

“Enough playing, princess. Let daddy have some real fun with you.”

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infernalrevenge · 3 years

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It would be pleasant to see a fanfiction with a blind reader. Like, they do not get attracted at first by alcina look because, well, the reader can't see. ( it may be fun to have the charavter confused because the voice of alcina is coming from somewhere insanely tall for a "human" ). Maybe, because the reader is blind, they can do a manual job with a lot of hand sensitivity ( like... carving or maybe a maid because it's not impossible )

Ooooh, extremely valid! I'm assuming since you said Reader wouldn't be able to see Alcina and know that she's super tall that they have complete blindness, so I'll work off that.

I've had to do research on this since I don't have firsthand experience on it, so I hope I've done this prompt justice. This got veeeeery long. If there's stuff I might have gotten wrong or you want to send some constructive criticism on how I wrote a blind Reader, you can message me! I'm always willing to learn.

Alcina was surprisingly accommodating of a blind servant working on her staff. You were willing to make yourself useful, right? So why not?

(And if you couldn't, well you might make for a good snack later down the line.)

You heard about how the Lady of the house could be: A perfectionist, stringent, and rarely forgiving. You heard the stories of other servants being dragged down to the dungeons or sliced with a knife for the smallest mistakes.

You typically got around on your own with your cane, though you were much more cautious when using it when you first arrived at Castle Dimitrescu.

You did not want "accidentally knocking a vase over while trying to walk around" to become a cause of death.

However, once you were more comfortable traversing the space, knowing how wide the corridors were, that irrational fear was pushed to the back of your mind.

(Not that fear of getting "sliced to ribbons" though, as she says. That was still very much alive.)

The Lady didn't address the staff directly often, but on the occasion she did, you always remembered the thunder in her voice. The commanding tone mixed with a level of grace and elegance. It was enough to make anyone quake in their shoes, and also make no mistake that she was in charge. You could feel her voice shoot straight through your heart.

You could recognize that she was tall, since every time she did talk to you, the voice was always coming from somewhere above you. It wasn't "far away" necessarily, but it wasn't as direct as it would sound like if the others talked to you, or even the Lady's daughters.

Was she always on another floor for some reason? It kinda seemed like she's always talking to people from a balcony. She can't be that tall, right?

You've heard of high and mighty but come on--

Her footsteps always came by slowly and loudly -- you never thought the clacking of heels could sound this terrifying. It also seemed like she carried a lot of weight, judging from the way she carried herself. You were never one to judge, but... that might tie in with the whole "she might be really tall" theory you have going on in your head.

Your main job was greeting and attending to any guests that came into the premises, and were to inform the Countess right away of their arrival. Sometimes, you would also offer drinks while they waited.

You knew Alcina always wanted wine (a part of you wondered if it was to help her deal with these kinds of meetings.)

Preparing drinks yourself was no big deal. You knew where things were kept around the kitchen, and as long as they were put back in their places, then you knew where to go.

When they weren't though... it got a little frustrating. You weren't afraid to remind your fellow servants about it though, since it helped with organization and cleanliness around the area too.

Sometimes, you could hear the other maids and servants talking about how they pitied you and "what you had to go through". They frequently tried to offer a hand when you were doing work, even though you had done the task many times before. And when you did accomplish it, you'd get praise for doing something so simple. You knew they meant well, but it got annoying very fast.

You're blind, not useless! You weren't helpless either! Come on, you could do things on your own!

(Not even Lady Dimitrescu was this condescending.)

In fact, she often left you to your own devices. She's mentioned how much she trusted you with tasks that she thought others had struggled with. It made you feel more confident in what you could do, with or without help.

Sometimes, you would offhandedly complain about certain accommodations, or lack thereof. Handrails would be nice. Not slipping on loose rugs that you might miss with your cane would be nice too. Tactile stickers on things that feel the same in texture and weight would be great. Just little things.

Then the following week, you hear about changes being made in the estate. Essentially the same ones you talked about with a friend too. They were some bare minimum changes, but it was a good start.

Who knew the lady could listen from so high up?

Her daughters seemed to have taken a liking to you too, and were for some reason wildly amused by how you could tell them apart just by their voices. Alcina would spot you all together and not be sure what to make of it, often telling them to leave you alone so you could get back to work.

Eventually, with enough work, you might find yourself being the Lady's personal servant, to come at her beck and call and address her every need.

You would notice how her tone with soften with you over time, almost similar to how you would hear her talking to her daughters. You couldn't quite put your finger on it.

It made you shiver in a way that you hadn't felt in a while -- not out of fear, but more out of... something. Again, you weren't sure.

(But you knew you liked it.)

Sometimes, you would feel her gently touch your shoulder, and it felt like she could easily hold onto your whole arm in her grasp. Were her hands really that big? How did they get so big???

But you would feel the warmth in her touch and those confusing thoughts would just slip away for the moment.

You listened well for any changes in her mood -- when she was tense, you would offer to fetch some tea. In physical pain? Maybe a massage would help. Feeling down? ...perhaps some company and a listening ear.

She still tried to keep up airs around you, but when she would let her guard down on that rare occasion she was too tired to do so, your heart would break. But after providing comfort, you would feel so honored that she would be willing to be vulnerable anyway.

Before you knew it, Alcina had slipped her way into your heart -- you just wondered if she would take you the same way.

You knew your disability was no problem for her, but what about you? Would she take little ol' you as you were? Insecurities, rashness, imperfections, and all?

Only one way to find out.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #re8 #inbox #nydeiri #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #blind reader #i definitely got carried away with this one this is so many bullet points HAHAHA #also the only way to finding out is telling her how you feel #disabled reader #headcanon requests

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theyarebothgunshot · 3 years

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I’d be very interested in your thoughts on the JIB8 cockles panel. just a suggestion for your rewatch 👀

i’ve seen the jib8 panel so many times, because it’s honestly one of the wildest things i have ever seen and i just never get tired of it.

first of all i want to give you my take on the overall vibe, and then second of all i will get into the details and link to certain timestamps in the video.

disclaimer: i am not gonna be linking to every single thing i talk about, but i will try my best to link to the moments that stand out to me the most. i have read long posts about this panel before, so not everything in this post is gonna be original or said for the first time ever, simply because there is a good chance that information has stuck in my mind and has subconsciously formed my view of this panel. this is also in no way, shape or form gonna be coherent, unfortunately. i’m just gonna hope that the cockles hivemind will be able to make sense of this regardless. love and light. and lastly, this is all in good fun, so don’t come at me if you think this is too out there please and thank you.

fun fact: i was today years old when i found out that the airbnb story took place one day before this panel. what a sexually charged weekend that was for them dude (gn).

the vibe that i get from this panel is that their moods were off before they got on stage, and where misha kind of looks tired and not 100% enthusiastic about things, jensen apparently decided to get drunk and is trying to make it look like he is thriving. yet, a little while into the panel we learn that it has been an emotional rollercoaster of a day for him, which might have something to do with the overall mood. then again, it could be that something else happened in between the autographs and that panel, who is to say?

i have talked about the d/s subtones in their interactions before and this panel makes my radar ping like nobody’s business. if my interpretation of their dynamics is right, then one could assume that jensen was being very bratty on purpose, trying to stir up a reaction in misha, and i think he probably got what he wanted (more or less. maybe he thought misha would find it more amusing than he did, or but honestly, at that point they have already known each other for nearly 10 years so odds are he knew what he was doing and how misha would react to it. it would surprise me greatly if these two didn’t work out their mutual frustrations with the day and each other after this panel ended- in the bedroom.)

i genuinely think i have never seen jensen flirt more openly and aggressively with misha, ever, and i have never seen misha in the state he was in during this panel either: tired, a little annoyed about the fact that jensen was going off the deep end and that he was not able to stop him, to the point where he just gives up and says things like ‘when in rome’ etc. let’s get into it.

the mood is set from the very first second: misha is kinda subdued, and jensen is being a bit of a clown, coaxing misha to join him in the madness, which he does to a certain extent.

we are off to a great start with not just one [0m15s], but two [0m20s] moments in which i just know in my bones they wanted to hold hands. how do i know? because i have been there my fucking self. wanting to hold hands with your crush when you are drunk and acting silly is a love language okay.

as soon as they sit down, misha tries to make conversation and jensen just starts pushing him and pushing him, [1m11s] saying ‘shut up’ and ‘yeah it’s really stupid and it embarrasses me’, but misha tries to ignore it at first and just marches on through. which is probably why i never see people talk about that little comment. it embarrasses jensen when misha sits like that? why would he need to feel embarrassed by his friend’s actions? kinda weird tbh, sounds like husband behavior to me. i have a feeling that when misha said ‘by which he means it’s an innie’, jensen REALLY had to bite on his tongue not to go all ‘you weren’t complaining this morning’ or something like that. look at his face bro [1m55s].

and then jensen opens up his legs like the little tramp (affectionate) that he is and when misha tries to stop him he just TURNS to misha with said open legs like a mad man and goes ‘here’s the thing. pick a leg.’ [2m05s] LIKE? who DOES THAT? that is insane people behavior!!! admittedly i am a cis woman and i don’t have conversations with male friends about their bodily anatomy all that often, but i legit cannot phatom that this is a normal thing to talk about with your platonic buddy. pick a leg for me to rest my dick on, old buddy old pal. NOBODY DOES THAT. it’s not even something that i would consider flirting because even though i am into men, i would not find that arousing? so it’s either an action to provoke annoyance in misha or it’s something they have discussed before or both. because misha immediately understands what he means, starts shaking his head in frustration, and actually turns to jensen as if to say ‘are you fucking kidding me right now? really? you are really doing this?’ followed by a ‘this is making me feel so uncomfortable’ aka one of the phrases they both like to use even though they never mean it.

then when jensen actually goes up to do his ridiculous mating dance and sits back down again, he automatically sits down with his body turned towards misha.

quick side note: if anybody understands what the joke was about when they talked about ‘cas has big dolls’ i would love to hear it, because that has never made any sense to me, but it’s probably a me problem lmao.

when misha goes ‘could you watch your language please’ i think that’s a sign that he is genuinely getting a bit frustrated [4m53s] with jensen even though he is obviously playing it off as a joke. right after he says that, jensen puts his fingers against his mouth, as if to shut himself up. i know that a lot of people don’t wanna read too much into body language but hey, i am writing an analysis here so work with me for a sec: i think that could be a subconscious decision to listen to what misha is telling him to do, which ties into the d/s dynamics i’ve mentioned earlier.

i know people always go crazy when misha goes ‘what did i tell him’ [5m19s] and jensen whispers in his ear. i personally think misha probably told him about the fact that they booked kansas the band, but it’s still pretty telling that that is how misha would react to the question if something he told him is public knowledge. evidently that goes to show that there is enough that misha tells jensen that cannot be shared with the public, which i thought is interesting.

now that i am watching it again, the ‘j*red would have just said it’ comment kind of stumbles around in my brain asking me to dissect it. let’s just say that i wouldn’t be surprised if they were both thinking back on the many, many times that j*red put his foot in his mouth and made a suggestive comment about jensen and misha’s relationship.

god i just cringed [6m14s] watching jensen interact with that first girl who asked a question and he just goes off on her about how twins are cool and misha is shaking his head lord oh lord and that is the minute daniella decides that hey maybe they need even more alcohol lmfaoooo it’s a lot. poor misha i genuinely feel bad for him.

and then he goes ‘real men have twins’ and looks at misha and misha is still not having it so he goes ‘it’s just a shirt’ like girl (gn) pleASE that’s husband behavior, yet again, why else would he feel the need to clarify it. ‘look babe don’t be mad or jealous i don’t mean anything by it, it’s just a shirt’ i hate him.

i just know misha would have wanted to take the apple juice away from jensen lmao.

one of the moments [9m35s] that always stands out to me is when they go ‘that’s why we don’t bring steven’ ‘that’s right, that’s why he’s not allowed’ idk how to explain it but the way that just flows out of them so naturally feels very coupley for some reason.

i think we can all agree that jensen’s reaction [12m22s] to misha’s ‘i always wear orange underwear’ story is completely fake, right? because there is no way he didn’t know that, and his reaction was very exaggerated. plus, the little gesture to make misha show his underwear? bitch, please. whipped. there was also exactly zero reason for him to come that close to misha in order to inspect the color of his underwear.

the one thing that i wonder about, though, is why misha didn’t know jensen was wearing the famous underbear briefs? but as i am writing this i realise that even if they slept in the same hotel room, there are obviously a few different possible reasons why misha didn’t know what underwear jensen was wearing that day: either jensen showered and changed in the bathroom, so by the time he faced misha again he was fully dressed, or misha had to leave their hotel room earlier than jensen, or jensen changed while misha showered, etc etc.

in any case……. jensen dropping trou in the middle of this fucking panel? absolutely batshit insane, 10/10 thank you for your service nesnej.

this [13m54s] is where shit really starts to hit the fan. jensen is OUT OF CONTROL. the long stares??? the ‘rawr’s??? ‘you didn’t even get the full picture’??? (sidenote i would love to know what misha whispered to him right after).

OKAY so. when the girl mentions j*red and jensen goes all Knowing What’s Up and says ‘oh he has had a rough time today. misha kept us up way too late last night. *glances at misha* rrrrrrr’ listen. the only reason i am not reading too much into this is because i do not believe they had a threesome with j*red but also the way he said it was very sus and my mind can’t help but wonder if they were disgustingly flirty and way too touchy feely in front of j*red whilst drunk and honestly that’s probably the case.

of course this is followed [15m15s] by the insane man saying ‘by the way they go down to here’??? and the potentially whispered ‘i’ll show you later’?????? sir i have a lot of questions. number one: how dare you?

bless this next person for this question, because she starts her sentence with: ‘people who have been together for a long time…’ i actually already made a post about this once so i implore you all to read that because i still stand by what i said in there.

it is of course followed by them both not being able to think about ANYTHING appropriate to say to the question if there is anything they only do in front of each other that doesn’t involve pants. and then misha goes ‘why don’t i just share a private moment that we had’ and jensen’s first instinct is to say ‘shit’. i mean. i am merely perceiving.

this is the moment we realise that it has been quite The Day for them, but especially for jensen, because he has been emotional earlier in the day. which, again, could explain his demeanor during the panel. trying to distract himself. notice that he gets up and shakes his legs again and goes for a drink the second misha starts to tell the story: coping mechanisms aka distraction, just like he did at the start of the panel.

the moment where he goes ‘it’s hitting me now. shit.’ really solidifies this theory for me, that he has been acting like a goofy drunken guy all panel, in order to drown out the emotions he felt that afternoon, but alas. once he started to talk about it, it still all came back to him.

i will say this though: it kind of warms my heart that he was so touched by the fact that the fandom spawned something good. makes me feel slightly less dumb for forming parasocial relationships with that man. only slightly, but still.

misha going ‘god he’s so grouchy’ [25m32s]? say it with me, folks: husband behavior. once again misha tries to talk jensen down and jensen listens (sort of). say it with me, folks: d/s behavior. and RIGHT after that jensen walks towards misha with this intense fucking stare in his eyes that makes me feel like i am intruding, and then after he gets another drink (nesnej, why?) he just. gently massages misha’s neck and shoulder before draping his arm around him? and his hand lingers when he goes to grab the keychain? okay.

insert the famous ‘when in rome’ debacle lmao misha was so done with jensen by then it’s so hilarious. the funny thing is that misha says ‘what i mean is show each other our underwear, nothing weird. you can’t look at me like that, because of what you did’, while the question was ‘what would dean and cas do in rome’ and not ‘what would jensen and misha do in rome’ but clearly, once again, the actors cannot make a distinction between the two. interesting :) it also wouldn’t surprise me if jensen has told him to tone down the dean/cas answers but now that jensen decided to fully flash him on stage misha is like ‘sorry but i am not playing by your rules after what you did’ lmao. of course, jensen’s reaction is to go back to parting his legs for misha, like he is challenging him. i mean. you can’t make this shit up.

am i the only one who thinks that jensen might be thinking dirty thoughts when misha repeats ‘what would dean and cas do’ [27m50s]? because like. that’s quite a face he is making.

when he says ‘i don’t know how to answer that’ and misha agrees, idk, for some reason i get the feeling that that’s in the sense of ‘i don’t know how to answer that in a way that won’t get our fans’s hopes up because we know what they would want and we know what we would answer but we can’t go there’.

i really feel like the final straw for daniella was the way that jensen reacted to that last question like he was gonna have another breakdown lmao and that’s why the rest of the cast and crew were pushed onto the stage prematurely. because when you think about it, it’s a pretty rude thing to do when somebody is still answering a question? but okay.

listen - the last 6 minutes of this panel are so chaotic sdjfhsjh the only thing i can conclude from it is that jensen is hella drunk but we’ve been knew. his mood changes by the fucking second. i love him and his little dance and how he sits down on the stage. i feel like i might be jensen coded when i am drunk. i too get slutty and unpredictable.

so anyways long story short: jensen was hella drunk and wanted to provoke misha, it worked, they had hot sweaty sex after this panel, and the fact that jensen got drunk enough to entrust misha with taking care of shit during the panel makes me very emotional for some reason, and i just love them a lot. thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#cockles #i am sorry this is such a mess lmao but enjoy i guess?#jib 8 #alsaurus-loves-dean #i edited in the timestamps because apparently the links dont work on mobile and just jump to the beginning of the vid. sigh

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cringe-central · 3 years

Text

Love Languages

The Lost Boys: Seperate

Giving vs. Recieving

A/N: Im so sorry this took so long to complete. I just started a new job so things may take longer, but ill still be writing. The next fic will most likely be poly with you and the boys getting together.

David

Giving: Gifts

David enjoys giving gifts that remind you of who you belong to. He's not good with emotions so giving momentos, to David, is a good way of showing his love.

David gives gifts to show you that even if he isn't around, he's thinking about you. He also uses gifts as an excuse to take care of you. He views himself as your protector and wants you to know that he can and will provide for you.

If he sees you looking at something for just a little too long, he will totally pay for it, legally, with money. He definitely won’t steal it if that's what you're thinking. But whether it's gained via dubious means or not, it's yours. David is basically a criminally inclined sugar daddy.

If you make an off comment about being hungry? You're getting food. You tell him he doesn't have to get something for you? That's too bad, it's not even a question to David, you're getting taken care of.

David just wants to provide and protect, just let the boy take care of you the only way he knows how.

Receiving: Physical affection

David is very touch starved under all that angst, pride, and daddy issues. Although he wont admit it, he needs to be given affection, badly.

Before he met you it never bothered him, he had the boys and he didn't need more than that. But when you came into his life, and you held his face in your hands? He realized how much he missed being held by another.

He's never thought highly of humanity, but your warmth pressed against him and feeling the steady rise and fall of your chest under his hand hits him in his cold, undead heart.

In public, PDA is kept at a minimum with David so he can keep up his rough and tough persona. He acts annoyed when you get clingy, but it's painfully obvious that he actually adores it. If you want to force him to hold your hand he'll complain about it, but he wouldn't dare move away from you.

In private however, all bets are off. Chairs aren't allowed, you're either on his lap or laying on top of him. Worry about his legs falling asleep? Don’t, he's already dead, they physically can't fall asleep. You aren't going anywhere sweetheart. If you're standing? He's wrapping his arms around your stomach.

If for some reason he moves his hands away while cuddling and you bring his hands back, He swears he can almost feels his heart start beating again. He finds you adorable when you're like this. It makes David smile when he sees your look of mock offense when he takes his arms away from you.

Cuddle this man. He may try to act all tough and intimidating, but he just wants to be held.

Dwayne

Giving: Acts of Service

Dwayne likes making your life easier, he's not a big talker but he knows that actions often speak louder than words.

He's a vampire, so the biggest stress factor the boys have is being found out and staked, but other than that he and the boys live a carefree life. He knows being a human is often very difficult. Picking up on your stressors and helping make your life easier is how he shows affection best.

Often if you're really busy, Dwayne will pick up food for you and make you take a break before helping you finish what you were doing. If you feel unwell in the slightest he’ll be there in a second to take care of you. Dwayne is also very tall, and will always get things down from above without even needing to be asked, it's basically a reflex at this point.

It's not uncommon for Dwayne to finish those last edits of an essay you were writing. He'd do more than that but he knows you'd be upset with him if he did. If you worry about taking advantage of him, Dwayne assures you that isn't the case. Taking that weight off of your shoulders makes him feel not only wanted, but needed.

Dwayne needs to know he's taking care of you, he's never been one to show love through words but you never go a day without feeling it.

Receiving: Quality Time

Ever since you and Dwayne became a couple, you've been the first thought in his head every morning, wanting to get feedings done sooner so he could spend time with you.

Dwayne has a lot of free time on his hands and during the time he spends with you, every possible ounce of attention you could give him was given. He adored those long conversations where you went on and on about whatever your current hyperfixation was. Even if you felt as if you annoyed him by simply rambling about a topic, he found those moments intimate and special.

Museum and Bookstore dates were very common between the two of you. Debates and deep conversations were a favorite of his, you both respected each other and your opinions.

For museums, he would watch you stare at the exhibits in wonder while he told you of what history he remembered in certain pieces. Though he wasn't too old by vampiric standards, you would ask him all sorts of questions about the eras he's lived in. He's very quiet, but it's on these dates where you can get him going.

Bookstore dates are quieter, there was one a little ways away from the hotel that stayed open later into the night. Once a week, you and Dwayne would try to get there as soon as possible and stay there until they kicked you out. You would buy (definitely not steal) books and walk back to the beach or, if it was particularly cold, back to the cave. You two would then read them and discuss the book until the next bookstore date.

Paul

Giving: Physical Touch

Paul loves giving affection, he takes offense to any moment spent without his S/O in his arms. He knows his reputation, and keeping you close shows that you're not to be fucked with. Many girls may try to get his attention, but they will never be the ones on Paul's hip and you take that as a badge of pride.

Paul enjoys the summer, his cool body is perfect for giving a lot of cuddles during that time. The colder months are heavily disliked by both you and him because of you body needing to stay warm, but Paul gives the best hugs, to the point where you begin to crave his touch.

Paul's worst fear is you feeling ignored or unloved; if you two have been physically distant he will immediately rectify it as soon as he can. This boy will never let his S/O go un-snuggled. Every time you're upset you are swept into Paul’s lap with your head tucked under his chin.

When you're at the boardwalk, your hand is always in his or his arm is around your shoulders. If you two are sitting down then you'll be in his lap. The boys may tease him about it but he doesn't mind, he's proud to show you off.

Paul is a himbo at the end of the day, he's not good with words and has said the wrong thing before, but through his actions you are shown how truly loved and valued you are to him.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation

Paul is a very literal person, he enjoys when you tell him what's on your mind, and he adores listening to you talk. Listening to you talk is the highlight of his night.

Even though Paul shows love through physicality, he needs to be told the words I love you. The first time you told him those three simple words he became pretty emotional. He couldn't remember the last time someone genuinely told him he was loved, and here you were confirming your mutual affections for each other. He's so soft for you man.

You always tell him how much he is admired and adored as you hold his face in your hands, and Paul melts every single time. He finds a lot more pride in his clothing and hair after you rave about how amazing he looks.

He values what you say above everyone else's opinion, and if you like the new thing he did with his eyeliner you notice he does it significantly more. Paul is the definition of jokester, but when you tell him what he said made you laugh he takes it to heart.

Paul loves being a vampire, but sometimes he needs you to say you aren't afraid of him. That despite what he is, you still feel safe around him. Even the toughest of people feel insecure sometimes and you're willing to do whatever he needs to feel okay again.

Marko

Giving: Physical affection

There's a reason him and Paul are best friends, sometimes a bro needs a hug. And though his motto was always ‘bros before hoes’ something was missing. There was a level of affection he longed to give, but never could.

When he met you and he was finally able to give those romantic affections, he went overboard. Always holding you and touching you in some way, you weren't let out of his grasp for weeks. Any time you needed to leave the cave to go home, Marko would whine and beg you to stay with him for a little while longer. Any time he could convince you to stay the night, he would be ecstatic.

Marko is very happy to know that someone loves him for him, and he is determined to show that in every single moment of your relationship. If you had a distant boyfriend before? Destroy those expectations, because you got the clingiest vampire in the lost boys.

He loves to scent mark on you, a giant vampire thing, it's like a drug to this angel faced sweetheart. Having his scent melding with yours as you two roam the boardwalk drives the boy insane. Marko is very possessive, and he can't help but nuzzle into your neck or wrap his arms around your torso so that everyone knows you're taken.

Much like his best friend, Marko is also a himbo. He needs you close to him and if you aren't he becomes whiny. The next time you see him, you won't be leaving his grasp any time soon.

Receiving: Gift giving

Marko is an artistic being and he appreciates gifts that have effort put into them. Things that are bought are nice, but if you spent hours making something? He doesn't care what it is, he will love it.

If you made him a bracelet, he'd wear it every day. If you paint, you'd notice pieces of art taped onto the wall, growing with every piece you make him. If you bake? What you make him is gone in a day. His favorite gifts however are the patches you make him, sewing them on and admiring the intricate detail put into each one.

Everything you make him or give him is valued, keeping anything and everything tangible in a wooden box that Marko painted himself. He protects that box with his life, keeping it in the most protected place in the cave.

If you write him letters he stores them in the box and he reads them by the fire pits when he can't sleep, which helps him get some shuteye. He treasures every little thing you give him, but to Marko, you are the true gift. Each of those momentos being a simple reminder of the wonderful being who made them.

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys paul #this took me so long to complete im so sorry

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Irreconcilable

Warnings: nonconsent sex, violence.

This is dark!Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You and Steve come to a breaking point but he’s not ready to let you go.

Note: My current kink is Steve Rogers being a bad motherfucker with a hint of insanity. Like he really coming in hot here. Oh and he got a touch of breeding kink. Enjoy <3

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You had come a long way since you were a naive SHIELD agent mooning over the one and only Steve Rogers. You were no longer an agent, you had married Steve Rogers, and now you were divorcing Steve Rogers. Five years went by in a flash and yet it felt like an eternity. It was like you were starting over again.

New job, new house, new you. Just you. Alone.

It was a breath of fresh air. You had spent so long in denial that acceptance felt like freedom. In the two years of wedded misery you spent with Steve, you had convinced yourself it was bliss. Something about that ring had changed him and he had expected you to change too.

Well you did, just not how he wanted.

It was subtle at first. He was still sweet and your honeymoon was immaculate. When you got home, back in the thick of things, he started to grow irritable. At home, on missions, in bed. First, it started with a breakfast you failed to cook. Then he didn’t think you should be working so much as he was eager to start a family. The revelation that you were in no such hurry, further agitated him. And when it came to intimacy…

When you were just dating, he was doting, gentle, diligent. He worshipped you and made you feel beautiful. Then he turned relentless. Foreplay dwindled to a slap on the ass and a growled order. On nights you denied him, for a headache or some report you had to read, he slept on the couch. And when you didn’t reject him, it was as if he was intent upon hurting you. Punishing you for daring to defy him.

And when you tried to talk it out, there was nothing to talk about. He grew silent and restless. He didn’t have the patience to stay and delve into whatever had turned him so cruel. He had work to do or at least, something better.

And he attended a single counseling session before he stormed out and declared it nonsense. In his day, couples made it work, through thick and thin. Well, in his day, husbands also got away with slapping around their wives and children. You liked to think that the new century had improved upon the formula.

Then his missions grew longer and he started going out with the boys a little too often. Sam and Bucky liked to have a beer now and then but you’d never known them to keep fratboy hours. You couldn’t disprove Steve’s plans but you also couldn’t be certain of them. You guessed he was cheating but you didn’t need the excuse to get out. You were already done.

So you went to Stark and Fury and discussed your departure. They agreed not to tell Steve while you figured things out. Then you went to a lawyer and drew up the papers. You didn’t want anything, just out. And, you suspected, Steve didn’t want you anymore either.

You waited until you got a position as head of security at a government office downtown. Well-paying and respectable. Fury’s referral had gone a long way. A desk job was a dream after years of fieldwork. It was all going to be different and you were finally ready for the change.

Steve was due home from his latest mission at four. It was already seven and the boxes had already been packed up and taken to your new condo. You would let him keep the furniture. Still, the house looked empty… well, it had for a while now.

You paced across the front room for another hour and at last you heard his car. A month ago, you’d be ready to tear into him. Ready to rant and rave until your head hurt. Not anymore. You had no energy left for this relationship.

He came in quietly. He stopped short as he entered the living room. He looked around and sighed. His hands went to his hips. The Captain stance. His eyes turned deadly as he looked at you. You quit your pacing and crossed to the coffee table. You took the large envelope and went to him. You held it out.

“Everything is yours,” You said as he stared at the envelope. “Clean break. I don’t want anything. Just out.”

“What?” He brushed past the envelope and walked the perimeter of the room. “You can’t be serious.”

“Steve, you know this isn’t working.” You followed him. “We’re both miserable.”

“No, you’re miserable,” He turned on you. “I’ve only been trying to help you and you just sit there and sulk. And now you’re-- you’re trying to divorce me.”

“I am divorcing you,” You pushed the envelope to his chest. “This doesn’t have to be difficult.”

“You made a vow--”

“Jesus, Steve, this isn’t 1366,” You huffed. “I can’t live like this anymore. I won’t.”

He was silent as his jaw ticked. He backed away and crossed his arms.

“You know I still love you right,” He said quietly.

“And? Love can’t fix whatever this is,” You insisted. “Steve, come on, this doesn’t have to be difficult. You sign and it’s done. Take it to a lawyer, you’ll see it’s a good break. You get the house, the furniture, everything. We leave with what we came with; you get more than that.”

He spun back. He had the grace to look hurt.

“Think about this, please,” He pleaded, “You don’t want to do this.”

“Steve, you won’t talk to me, you won’t listen to me, what is there left to think about?” You asked. “It’s done. We’re done. You think I haven’t been thinking about this for months?”

He nodded and his jaw squared. His brows drew together and he tilted his head as he stared at the envelope in your hand.

“Fine,” He conceded. “I’ll take it to my lawyer…”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” You tried to near him and he turned his back on you again. You set it on the coffee table instead. “It’s just here, okay?”

“If you were sorry, you would try,” He growled. “Oh, and let me tell you, this will not be easy.” He peered over his shoulder, “I’ll make sure of that.”

The anger in his voice startled you. You swallowed and backed away from the table. You took your purse and your jacket in the deathly lull that followed. Steve didn’t move as he stared at the artificial fireplace.

“Goodbye, Steve,” You said as you hovered in the doorway.

“Get out,” He sneered. “Trust me, this isn’t goodbye.”

💍

Your last day at Stark Tower was the same day you served Steve the papers. You had planned it so delicately but you knew now he would not go along with it. Not peacefully. You spent your weekend unpacking and on Monday began your new position in the city.

You were only a block away from the Tower but you avoided the area. Tony and Fury promised not to tell Steve where you were working. You suspected that wouldn’t go well for them but you trusted them. They’d faced much worse than a bitter Steve Rogers.

Coming home to your new place was no different than before. What was different was that you could breath. There was no oppressive shadow hovering over you. You opened a bottle of wine and turned on the series that Steve always complained was too vapid. He couldn’t say anything now. He could sit and watch his dry war documentaries as he preened over any mention of himself. He sure was up his own ass.

You fell asleep on the couch. You woke and repeated the same day. It all became routine and you slipped easily into the single life. Single and unwilling to mingle.

Woven into your newly found serenity, was a thread of insecurity. Steve’s promise echoed in your head as you closed your eyes at night. “This will not be easy”. You found yourself staring at your phone as you waited for the call from your lawyer. It didn’t come for a whole month. Steve wanted a deposition. It was to be scheduled for the next week.

You set your phone down and sighed. Of course. You knew it. He wanted to be messy and surely he knew the extra lawyer fees wouldn’t make this any easier. You couldn’t fathom, however, what else he could want from you. Your settlement had swayed heavily in his favour. Well, you could guess he wanted the final word. A final victory.

Captain America never failed.

You’d have to book the day off and only a month into the job. You were sure they’d understand. Your superiors were few and your team was competent. It only annoyed you how even now, Steve could get in the way of your work.

Well, better to get it done and over with. Maybe when it was all signed and sealed, you could leave New York. It would be terribly difficult to find another job and the city had grown dull. These were his streets, his people. You would just be the woman who walked out on the first Avenger.

💍

You sat in the stiff plastic chair and stared through the clear glass wall of the deposition room. The court reporter was within, readying for the meeting. Your lawyer, Donald Calliers, was beside you and tried to calm you down with assurances that it was nothing more than a formality. There was no reason for this to go beyond a single day and he didn’t suspect much would change in the settlement.

Steve arrived ten minutes before the meeting was to begin. You peeked at him, hoping he wouldn’t catch you. He had grown out his beard and his hair was getting long. He looked very much unlike the man you’d married, albeit he was well-kempt and put together for the occasion. He was accompanied by three lawyers. That made your stomach drop.

“Three lawyers?” You whispered to Donald. “Is that bad?”

“It’s a show. Trust me. I run depositions in my sleep. No one needs that amount of representation at these things. Quality over quantity.” He said under his breath.

“I hope your right,” You replied. “I don’t think I can afford three of you.”

“Good thing there’s only one of me,” He kidded. “One of a kind.”

You forced a small laugh and tried not to fidget. You had barely been able to keep still before Steve showed up, and now you felt as if your entire body was shaking. You could feel his eyes on you and hear his own low whispers to his lawyers.

The door opened and saved you from sinking into doubt. Steve and his team stood and waited for you to enter first. You sat on the far side of the table and they took the seats across from you. The court reporter took the chair at the head of the table and cleared his throat. He swore each of you in and signalled the beginning of the deposition. Steve’s lawyers allowed no delay.

“Mrs. Rogers,” The tall blonde woman with the square jaw, Ms. Lauer, began. “We’ll start with your monthly expenses.”

Donald shuffled through his folder and slid over the copies of your statements. The lawyers read over them and nodded as they made notes.

“And on average, thinking of only you, how often do you travel throughout the year for pleasure?” Another lawyer asked. This one a bald man called Mr. Harin.

“Once, maybe. I tend to work more than I vacation,” You answered.

“And how often do you dine out?” The third asked; Mr. Pollard.

“Couple times a month, maybe,” You avoided Steve’s gaze as it never wavered. He seemed not to even hear the questions or your answers.

“And your debt? You have any credit card debt? And outstanding loans owing?”

“I have a card I am currently paying off but it’s only a couple hundred owing,” You replied evenly. This was ridiculous. Was he really going to try to fleece you? He still made more than you did.

“And you cited irreconcilable differences on your papers,” Harin said. “We would ask what exactly these differences are?”

You looked at Steve and the angles of his face hardened.

“It’s not much of a marriage when you never see each other and when you do, you don’t talk,” You said. “And when you do communicate, it is nothing short of hostile.”

“Oh, and would you classify this hostility as abuse?” Pollard asked.

“No, not really,” You answered. “Just unhealthy and unbearable.”

“So you would file on the grounds of irretrievable breakdown but as our client would state, any such breakdown has not been evident for the required period.” Harin intoned. “In fact, he say you’ve surprised him with such a claim and you would cite no other valid grounds for the divorce.”

“Our marriage has been little more than a shell for the last year,” You said. “As I’ve been informed, it is only six months required to make a claim.”

“But you never made such a claim to your husband, thus how could he recognize and try to reconcile these differences?” Lauer prodded.

“I did. I have a statement from a counselour that confirms that were seeking help nine months ago,” You insisted.

“We have seen that but you did not attend further after that instance.” Harin argued.

“And… he wouldn’t go,” You accused. “He wouldn’t try any sort of reconciliation.”

“And do you have proof of his refusal?” Lauer asked.

You looked to Donald who shifted in his chair. “It is not required to have proof of this claim,” He said. “She did recognize that the relationship was declining and she made a visible effort to amend that.”

“Once in two years,” Harin countered. “And she would not claim abuse or inhumane cruelty and we’ve heard no mention of adultery.”

“It does not invalidate her claims of irreconcilable differences. You might refer to their schedules and the amount of time they spent apart.” Donald retorted.

“Occupational absence does not account for personal neglect,” Pollard said.

“So…” You looked along the line of lawyers.

“This settlement you’ve offered is completely invalid. There are no grounds for it.” Lauer stated.

“But...but…”

“We cannot allow our client to sign these papers knowing them to be of such questionable validity thus we ask that you withdraw the claim.” Pollard declared. “We have faith that your lawyer is competent enough to agree with us.”

Donald frowned and turned to you. You spun your chair around as he leaned over and whispered quietly. “They’re right.”

“But they can’t disprove my claims,” You hissed.

“Sure but that’s not their job. If we went before a judge, we’d be overruled easily.” He explained. “You’ll have to sign a separation first and wait a year. If it was uncontested, sure, I’d have you out by the end of the week but he’s putting up a fight.”

“A year?” You shook your head.

“Separated. You just have to live apart for a year. No contact required but you have to maintain residency in the state.”

“Really?”

“We can probably get it signed today, I’m sure,” Donald assured. “It’s the best we can hope for.”

“Fine. If it’s a means to and end.”

You turned back and Donald reached for his briefcase and shuffled around.

“My client proposes that instead of the settlement, that an order of separation might be more appropriate for the circumstance.” Donald said. “Would your client agree?”

Steve looked to Harin and gave a single nod. He wasn’t happy.

“Alright, we’ll have it drawn up and faxed over to your offices to be signed by the end of the week.” Donald said. “Is that agreeable?”

“It is,” Lauer accepted. “In the meantime, we would ask that your client prepares a full statement of her expenses over the next year and we would also require a report of her personal activities within the last year of her marriage.”

“Personal activities?” You said.

“Our client has his own accounted for. We only wish to cover our bases.”

You shrugged and Donald agreed to it. You couldn’t look at Steve. You knew what he was implying. He thought you were unfaithful or was at least petty enough to raise the accusation.

“Are we done here?” You whispered.

💍

Another month and even more wine. Your days had grown endless. When you were at work, you could forget about your legal connection to the asshole who chose to make your nights a living hell. Ever since your failed deposition, he had broken his silence.

It started with a text. Sweet, even. ‘I miss you, we should think this through.’ That was until the separation was finalized. Then they turned nasty; ‘you won’t get away that easily’; ‘we’ll see if you last a year’. Then you changed your number and deleted his.

That was when it all caught up to you. Your marriage had failed, you’d had to flip your entire life because of him, and now you were all alone in a condo that was way too big for just you. And you couldn’t leave the state until this was all over.

You were awoken one night by the chiming of your phone. You could still the acrid wine on your tongue as you reached for it. A video call? You answered in your sleepy haze and were stunned by the image that met you. The loud slapping that rose from the speakers and the low purr of some unknown woman. Her wavy auburn hair spilled over her shoulders as her round ass clapped against a pelvis. You recognized the hand that gripped her hip.

“This should be you,” Steve said from behind the camera. “Fuck, I wish it was.”

You hung up and fumbled with the phone. It fell onto the floor as you sat up. You turned on the lamp and pressed your palms to the side of your head. What the fuck was that? You let out a grunt of frustration as you heard the phone ringing again. You picked it up and declined the call. You couldn’t block the private number.

You silenced your phone and shoved it in your dresser. You went to the kitchen and got a glass of water. You felt sick to your stomach. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not after that. So you went to the couch and turned on Netflix. It would be a long day at work.

💍

You slept for about an hour before your alarm blared from the other room. You stumbled off the couch to slap the clock and retrieved your phone from the drawer. You gather your clothes for the day and made your coffee. You sat with the steaming mug and unlocked your phone. He’d sent a video. It played automatically. It showed him coming down the woman’s thigh. You deleted it and grumbled at your coffee.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and forced yourself to get dressed. If he called again, you wouldn’t answer. You’d have to change your number; again.

The office was quiet. Thankfully. You had another coffee as you went over logistics and kept an eye on the screen mounted in the corner that showed you every camera in the building. You liked having the view. An alert went up for the bank down the street and you keyed in the response measures. It was a faulty trip.

You looked back to the cameras and your chair almost rolled out from under you. It couldn’t be. You got up and walked to the screen. Steve was just down the hall by the receptionist's desk. Several of your employees were gathered around him. You could hear their voices through your door.

“Fuck,” You swore and thought of locking your office.

You slipped out into the hall and sneaked down to the bathroom instead. You listened against the door as fragments floated through the air. ‘THE Captain America?’ ‘So honoured to meet you’...

You waited twenty minutes before it all died down. The silence that followed was eerie and you slowly cracked open the door to peer down at your office. You didn’t see anyone. You let out a long breath and stepped out. You tiptoed along and peered down towards the receptionist. All had gone back to their work but chattered here and there about their visitor.

You opened your office door and he was there. He sat in your chair as he swung the seat back and forth. He smirked at you. You blinked and let the door fall closed behind you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Just wanted to see the new gig,” He said. “Must be boring pent up in here all day.”

“Not at all,” You crossed your arms. “Steve, leave.”

“Come on, don’t you miss it?” He ignored you. “You remember how it used to be in the field? You remember when I fucked you on the jet? Or maybe at that little party where we were supposed to be posing as arms dealers. Tight space but we made it work.”

“What is wrong with you?” You marched over to your desk and leaned on it as you glared at him. “You need to go. Now. This is my job.”

“Wouldn’t mind having a go here,” He put his foot up on your desk and crossed his other leg over. “Bend you over. You think you could keep quiet?”

“Steve.” You hissed. “I mean it, go. I work in security. Don’t make me call them.”

“I’m sure they’re all too eager to escort me out,” He taunted. “You really think they would? After I signed their mugs and ridiculous posters.”

“I’ll call the police then,” You said.

“False reports can get you a hefty fine, even some time,” He leaned back in your chair. “Unless you truly think they’ll listen to you?”

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

“Because you still think you’re going to get away,” He said. “And I assure you that last night was just a taste of what I have planned for you.”

“Steve…”

“Steve,” He mimicked breathily, “’Oh, Steve, harder, harder’… I miss that.”

“Well, I don’t,” You sneered. “Last night was disgusting. You are disgusting.” You stared at him. “What happened to you?”

“What happened to us?” He pulled his feet from the desk and sat up. “You said you would be with me forever. You are my wife.”

“Not for much longer, Steve,” You said. “Stop making this worse for yourself.”

“Oh, I’m having a hell of a time,” He stood slowly. “And let me tell you this, that girl, meant nothing. A toy to me. You… oh, I’ll make sure you have something to remember me by.” He rounded the desk. “I’ll make sure you’re never rid of me.”

You reached around blindly as you turned to him and grabbed your stapler. You hit the release as he got closer and held it up shakily.

“Don’t come near me,” You said. “Go.”

“Or what?” He took another step.

“Steve,” You warned.

“Oh, I just want a little fun. How about--”

He tried to grab you and you lunged at him. You hit the stapler as it met his chest and he barely flinched. You pulled it back and held it by the bottom and swung it again. This time, you smacked him in the shoulder and his jaw ticked.

“You’re getting rusty,” He laughed as he knocked the stapler from your hands.

“Steve,” You backed away and he stopped suddenly.

He looked you up and down and pulled out his phone. He lifted a brow and tucked it away.

“Damn, looks like I’m already running late,” He sighed. “Tony’s not gonna be too pleased but… I’ll let him know you say hi.” He headed for the door as you watched him in terror. “Oh, and… I did mean it. Til death do us part.”

💍

You didn’t see Steve again. A whole week passed and the only hint of his existence were the texts you didn’t read. Ten and a half months to go. You could do it. He was just playing with you. Trying to change your mind. He would admit defeat as soon as the final paper was signed. He had to.

You got home and uncorked your Friday night wine. You’d been abstaining for a while as you didn’t want to make it a habit but you were so on edge, you needed to just chill. You poured a healthy glass and pulled a throw over your shoulders as you sank into the couch. You really didn’t mind living alone.

You almost finished the bottle and laid back on the sofa. You were cozy in the heat of the wine and the fuzzy blanket. You dozed off as soon as the theme of the next episode stopped playing. You floated in a haze and your eyes opened only as a shadow passed on the other side.

You sat up dizzily and glanced around. You gripped your spinning head as you stood and clumsily walked around your front room. It was likely just the television. You shook your head and told yourself it was nothing. You were drunk and falling asleep in front of a screen often left you restless.

You fell back down onto the couch and leaned into it. You skipped the episode back, suddenly awake. Slowly, the alcohol dragged you down and you began to slump against the cushions. Your head began to loll and you felt a warmth brush over your cheek.

“A place like this must get lonely,” Steve’s voice startled you as his breath tickled your skin.

You tried to jump up and caught you below your arms and pulled you back over the couch. You wrestled with him as your vision wobbled. You flailed and kicked as his arm slipped up and he wrapped it around your neck. He squeezed until a weight settled in your limbs and he slowly lowered you to the floor.

“It’s okay, honey,” He slithered as the void welcomed you. “You won’t be lonely anymore.”

💍

You awoke slowly. Your head was heavy from excess. You knew the place but it wasn’t your condo. You laid in the bed you once shared with Steve. You groaned as you stretched your arm across the mattress. It was just you. You sat up and found Steve watching you.

He stood from the chair near the window and you quickly rolled to the other edge of the bed. He jumped across and caught you before you could take another step. He pulled you back and turned so that you were pinned beneath him. You screamed and he covered your mouth.

“I’ve done a lot since you left. A lot of time to think,” He said. “Soundproofing, renovations, redecorating.”

You mumbled into his palm and he rolled his hips against you.

“All for you.” He snarled. “I’ve waited too long.”

You tried to peel his hand away from your lips and he only clung tighter.

“I got the nursery done though. It’s nice. I think you’ll like it,” He continued. “The only thing I haven’t done is thought of names.”

You finally pried his hand down to your chin and gasped. “Steve, please…”

“I think this might just be the reconciliation we need,” He said. “Don’t you?”

“No,” You begged. “No, Steve, get off--”

“I don’t think you were meant to be a wife. You were meant to be a mommy,” He nuzzled your head.

“Steve, stop. Get off of me right now. Or--”

“Or what? Doesn’t look good when the soon-to-be ex-wife breaks into her spouse’s house.” He growled. “Something like that, that could lose you your job and it definitely wouldn’t look could in a deposition.”

“Steve,” You sobbed. “You’re hurting me.”

“You hurt me!” He snapped. “You understand?! You hurt me and you’re not going to take my life from me.”

He pushed himself off you roughly and grabbed the back of your neck as he pulled you up after him. He turned you to him and gripped your head between his large hands.

“You’ll find someone else. Someone who can give you that life, Steve,” You begged. “It’s just not me.”

“It is you.” He sneered. “Only you.”

“Please, don’t--”

“Shut up,” He shouted. “I’m done talking with you. You never listened to me. Ever.” He shoved you away. “So you’re going to listen now.”

You glanced at the door and he caught your chin and turned you back to him.

“You think you can get out of this room? Think you can get past me?” He challenged.

You stared at him and your heart sank. Fight as you might, you could never beat the Captain. He was always one step ahead; in the field and off.

“Answer me,” He rescinded his hand and slapped you across the cheek. “Now.”

You were stunned by the force of the strike. You stumbled back and tears rose in your eyes.

“St-Steve…” You stammered but his eyes were distant. “No, I can’t.” You admitted weakly. “You know I can’t.”

“Finally talking some sense,” He smirked. “Now, we’ll start easy.”

Your lips parted but you didn’t know what else to say. You hung your head. A silent surrender.

“I didn’t hear you,” He mocked. You looked up at him confused. “That’s a ‘yes, husband’.”

You blinked at him. Your lip trembled as you forced the words out and he shuddered in delight.

“Now, you can undress me first.” He said.

You uttered another ‘yes, husband’ and crossed to him. You lifted his tee and he bent to help you sweep it over his head. His eyes never left you. You shakily undid his jeans and you gulped back a sob. It felt like the first time again, except you were shaking from excitement. This was fear.

When at last you bared him of his briefs, he was hard. He stroked himself without shame and rubbed the tip against your shirt.

“Your turn,” He said.

You stripped a piece at a time. It was mechanical, instinctual. You didn’t think as you dropped your clothes on the floor. You stood before him entirely vulnerable. Naked. You had loved this man once, but you weren’t sure he had ever loved you. Only wanted what he could get out of you. Be it his pleasure, some reassurance of his insecurities, or the life he’d romanticized for so long.

“Turn around,” He commanded and you obeyed with a ‘yes, husband’. He hummed at that. He pushed on your shoulders until you bent. “Grab your ankles… and stay like that.”

He went to the closet and returned. He held straps you’d never seen before. Your sex had never been bland but he’d never gone beyond the usual. Never wanted toys or lube; just you. He secured your wrists to your ankles. He lifted your chin and looked into your eyes.

“I’m gonna fuck you like never before. For all those times I slept on that goddamn couch,” He pushed his mouth against yours. “I’m done holding back.”

He stood and rounded you. He slapped your ass and you almost fell. He steadied you and pushed your feet apart as far as they could go. You were entirely imbalanced, barely able to keep yourself up. His hands slipped down your thighs and back up and he gripped your hips.

He pressed against you and wiggled his hips as his cock rubbed against your ass.

“It didn’t have to be like this,” He growled. “You made it this way.”

You shook your head and stayed silent. He was too far gone. Whatever you said would only anger him further.

He reached between you and pushed his cock down to your cunt. He eased into you an inch at a time. Your walls resisted him as you were unprepared for the intrusion. As he got further in, it hurt more and more. You whined and he cursed as he slapped your ass so hard it stung.

“Come on, honey,” He bucked his hips and filled you entirely. You cried out at the pain. “I know you can take it.”

He thrust against and you shook. He rocked his hips until your body reacted. Each delve inside grew easier as your arousal leaked from your core. He kept you moving steadily along his cock as his groans swirled around you. His pelvis clapped against your ass.

“Yeah, yeah, this is what I wanted,” He breathed. “This is what I imagined. Only you…”

He moved you against him as his grunts grew deeper and deeper. Your legs trembled and he held your waist tighter as he slammed you back against him. His thrusts turned slower but sharper. He inched your foot forward with his and then the other. He walked you over to the bed until your faced was pressed to the mattress.

He rutted into you harder. You yelped into the bed and seemed riled from the sound.

“Louder! Louder!” He demanded, speeding up until you cried out again and again. “Oh fuck, honey, I missed us so much.” He kneaded your ass hungrily. “Maybe if you had let me fuck you like this before, you never would’ve made such a stupid mistake.”

He sank into you completely and stopped. He pulled out of you but only to flip you onto the bed. You landed on your back awkwardly and bent your legs as they remained bound to your wrist. He climbed up swiftly and was upon you in a moment. He entered you easily and snaked his arms around your thighs as he caught his rhythm.

You bit your lip as you felt your core swelling. He reached down and pressed his thumb against your clit. You squeaked in surprise and his hips moved faster. You mewled as he swirled around your bud and gritted your teeth against the rise.

“Cum for me,” He said. “I know you can, honey.”

You grunted as you couldn’t help but climax. Your walls pulsed around his cock and you quivered violently. Your muscles ached terribly from how you were tangled beneath him and he sped up once more. He curled your back as he raised himself on his knees and lifted your ass off the bed. You felt as if you fold in on yourself.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re going to look so good…” His hand crawled up and spread over your stomach. “With my baby inside of you.”

You closed your eyes and turned your head away.

“Here it comes, honey,” He rasped. “I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna fill you up.”

He exclaimed and you felt his release as it seeped into you. His hips moved spasmodically against you as he slowly lowered your ass and leaned back on his heels as he stilled. He let out a deep snarl and squeezed your thigh.

“Mmmm, I can’t wait…”” He hummed and rubbed your stomach. “I can’t wait to see you grow.”

#Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #one shot #dark!steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #mcu #marvel #captain america

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sassooda · 3 years

Text

Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 37 - Destined for Greatness

w/c - 7,731

Suguru has been lying in bed for hours now as his mind wanders through his past and imagines different scenarios for the future. He sighs as he tosses and turns for the thousandth time, facing away from his door while his gaze takes to his new quarters that are viewable from this angle. This is by far the cheeriest room he has ever called his own. The walls are a warm yellow, the floors of solid hardened red clay and all of the matching furniture a light wood. His eyes take to the closed curtains with long thick white drapes, ‘This is so fucking annoying…’, he mumbles knowing there’s not even a window behind it, there’s no way for there to be when you’re underground. Sitting up now with aggravation, he reaches over to the bedside table and places the bowl of water he was using the night before, back into his lap. He wants to check in on Elska’s surroundings although he knows other Titers are tasked with the enemy’s usual surveillance. Before activating his technique though, he hesitates due to anxiety, ‘What the fuck am I going to do when we take her? What the fuck will she do?’. He hears footsteps approaching his door and knows Genghis must have already finished with most of the arrangements.

“Little one! Time to wake up!”. Genghis calls out in an eager voice. He stops and smiles when he sees that Getou is already awake and asks, “Aren’t you excited about today?”. He looks over the worrisome Suguru who’s vexation is transparent. The golden sheets drape along his body and slide from his bare skin whenever he moves under them.

Getou grumbles and turns his head, “I don’t think what I’m feeling is excitement…”. He keeps looking at the curtains that hide lies while wondering if he’s much different. ‘Will I have to subdue her when she lashes out? Am I going to have to hurt her when she resists?’. He’s had no qualms with doing so in the past but feels an incredible amount of pressure regarding it now. ‘Could we…like each other?’.

Genghis chuckles and ignores Suguru’s reluctant attitude while looking around the room, “This is definitely much more suitable! Did you really put in a request for a giant tub though?” He’s poking fun at his pupil but he was also puzzled by that. Genghis thinks the brighter room will serve them both well psychologically. ‘Not too shabby for being done at the last minute.’.

Embarrassed by the question, Getou submerges deeper into his bad mood and bed before retorting, “It’s for me. I’m tall.”. He was certainly not about to admit that it was for Elska, thinking she really must love them judging by how insane Naoya acted about it when the Zenin originally designed the first room where she was held. Suguru is aware that her reaction may be hostile overall and is dreading these coming days because of it so he hopes having one may ease her nerves. He doesn’t know that tub is Naoya’s thing.

Genghis isn’t really satisfied with that answer but continues on, “I’ve gathered the most adept offensive fighters we have to offer.” Knowing the Titer’s abilities are incredible but lack in the area of traditional combat, selecting the most capable available would be crucial. “I believe you’ll quite enjoy my plan…”. His teeth show in this smile now, he’s more than willing to share his enthusiasm.

Suguru finally turns to his mentor, interested. “Do tell me what you’ve concocted.”.

Genghis lights up, “So as we were discussing, we need to restrict their actions. We will make our move in a public setting but you’ll still be able to have your fun...we will have to harm innocents but I assume that’s not what troubles you.” He grins maniacally, “Mr. Satoru Gojo’s presence will be requested before the Elders here in a few and his curiosity will assure he attends.”. Genghis sighs, “I was worried Gojo might want to kill all of them but I brought in two special people to mediate our fictitious ambitions.”. He chuckles, “The silver shaman has no idea what’s in store for him.”.

Getou smirks at the thought of Gojo having the rug pulled from beneath him, “So we’re planning on having to deal with Toji, Zenin and Choso…aside from her today?” Genghis nods to his question but a heaviness forms in Suguru’s chest when he thinks about having to kill Choso. He’s still not on board with that completely and figures he’ll try his best to protect the hybrid in the midst of confusion. ‘Not him too.”. Getou wishes to find a way to bring the hybrid back to his side.

Genghis claps his hands, causing his yellow robes to flutter, “You better get up and get ready! I’m about to meet with our team. I believe your first sweetheart will be amongst them.”, he chuckles for the drama but honestly loathes that woman.

“Lidia?”, Getou stiffens immediately as that did not help his motivation. “She’s fucking crazy Master Genghis, I don’t want to be anywhere near her!”. Suguru takes his head to his hands as a few memories of her dependency and inhumane behavior flood him. ‘Psychotic bitch.’. Lidia always chased after Suguru when they were younger and at some point this wore on him as before he knew it, she was claiming them to be betrothed. She was obsessed with his destiny, his calling for the clan and would worship him in the most toxic ways due to it. Her need to be the only one in Getou’s life caused her to mutilate young women amongst Suguru’s outer circle out of spite and jealousy. Their time together did not last long as it quickly became a violent pairing, ending with him crushing her ribs under his usual technique. Suguru sighs, “She’s is not going to help me obtain another woman…”. He shudders recalling how after healing, she was back to throwing herself at him as if nothing happened. ‘Fucking…crazy…’.

Genghis hides his sneer, knowing full and well the history of the two. “On the contrary, she requested this assignment.”. He notices Suguru’s growing frustration and wishes he could explain exactly why he’s doing what he’s doing but instead says, “I’ve seen many outcomes for this and although they may have varied, I can assure you Lidia will serve a great purpose here.”. Little does Getou know, Lidia will be the proof offered to show Elska she will be cared for while in the Titer compound.

Suguru is skeptical to believe this and shows it through his expression as he rises from the bed and says, “Women are the bane of my existence…”. He stretches in his black briefs and cracks his neck while thinking something foreboding was eating at him. ‘I’m probably going to have to expose my other techniques now.’.

“You’re about to receive the most powerful wife in the world…and yet, you complain.”, Genghis teases as he’d probably be nervous too if the roles were reversed. He watches Suguru don a black robe, clearly showing signs of stress so he walks up to him and puts his jokes aside, “This is going to work out, little one, one way or another.”, and pulls Getou’s head down to plant a fatherly kiss to the top of it. After sharing the rare moment, he bows and leaves Suguru to his morning routine.

Getou watches him quietly walk out of the room with conflicting emotions. Genghis is the only man he’s ever looked up to, the only other human that ever offered genuine affection. Ever since Suguru was reunited with his mentor though, something has felt off or perhaps he’s just seems more purposeful. He’s not sure if this odd feeling is because of his own unstable emotions that threatened to derail his purpose of revenge or if there’s another reason but he can’t ignore it either way. He trusts that his mentor is still worthy of his respect and recognition though and finds his returning welcomed regardless. ‘All of those years…’, he wonders where Genghis spent his time and exactly why. ‘Did they really keep him away to simply foster my hatred for Gojo?’. He knows that doesn’t really make sense.

Genghis is turning a hall leading to stairs to take him upward. He sees two of the recruited Titers waiting for him outside of the designated meeting area at the top, smiles and nears them. The first one he shakes hands with is Sain Khun. The 32-year-old Titer was a remarkable martial artists and hunter. His rare eyes are more grey than blue and stand in contrast to his long black hair that he wears down. Sain is one of the handful of Titers that learned to channel their metaphysical natured abilities into to combative techniques but usually stays out of the political fray of the clan. ‘A fine young man.”. Before he’s able to address the handsome Titer, the second of the pairing cuts in.

“Master Genghis, I have more questions about this woman.”. Lidia shamelessly exudes her opinion of the situation and demands attention. She receives a sharp look from the clan’s head that only fuels her suspicions. “Are we certain she’s the best pairing for Master Getou?”.

“Miss Lidia, you look lovely today…”, Genghis takes her hand and kisses it, ignoring her inquires. He continues to smile until she speaks up again. ‘She never ceases.’.

“Can we trust that her intentions for Master Getou are ones we can stand by?”. Lidia shakes her long curly red hair that dances down her arms. Her green eyes narrowed still, she waits for an answer. “She’s not even human. What if she uses her powers to manipulate his biology as well?”. Her foot taps impatiently against the now softer ground, ‘I’ll fucking kill that bitch if she even looks at him wrong!’.

Genghis has already grown tired of catering to Lidia’s neediness in the short time they’ve come to know each other but understands she’s vital. “And what of your own intentions?”, he confidently questions her as he doesn’t need an answer. He already knows and is glad to see her heart hasn’t wavered from its possessive ways.

Sain feels forced as this greet was supposed to be simple. He cares not of Lidia’s unhealthy interest for Suguru and even with his instincts crying against Genghis, feels badly for the man. He decides to enter the conversation in hopes to shut it down. “Lusting Lidia, it’s time to get on with the meeting.”, and grabs her arm, leading her through the door where the rest of the selected wait.

Genghis takes a moment to center himself, ‘I understand your resentment little one…’. This quick exchange between them wasn’t the worst he’s suffered from the woman but he still cannot stand to be around her. He chuckles and whispers to himself, “But if she were any less obsessed, this wouldn’t work.”, and then enters the room with the rest as they lay out their plans.

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

Elska is looking around at the busy street as they occasionally bump into passing people. “My prince, are you sure it’s around here?” She’s never been to this part of the city before and is feeling anxious by the crowd. The sun is out but a chilling breeze catches them every so often. Her mind is heavy and plagued with questions but doesn’t want to dampen Naoya’s mission for the day.

Naoya stops near the edge of the wide sidewalk and pulls out his phone, “I’m positive!”, while checking the map to make sure he could stand by those words. ‘Where is it?’. His brow creases as he studies the screen.

Toji huffs, “We’ve been walking forever.” He’s abnormally agitated but also hates crowds and is pinning the fault on being dragged out into one. He looks at Elska who’s eyes happen to meet his and feels his tension release ever so slightly as the wind blows her black V-cut dress along her knees. All of them are dressed up more than usual since Naoya begged for them to eat at one of his favorite restaurants. He sees Elska eyeing him in a way that foretells she finds his black pants and squeezing button up suiting and it makes him feel like he could deal with the clothed restriction for a while longer.

“It says we’re close!”, Naoya points to the map on his phone pridefully. It’s been a few years since he was on this side of the city and a lot has changed. He’s becoming frustrated with not knowing how much time they’ll have before Gojo returns, wanting to enjoy some normalcy. ‘I just want to treat her to nice meal!’ He turns to Elska and takes her hand, “Baby, I promise it will be worth it. I’m talking…food fit for a princess.”, when she giggles, he does too, being happy to see that she isn’t wanting to turn around. He looks to Toji now, “Want me to find you a walker?”, and snickers as the giant narrows his eyes before continuing ahead.

Elska feels Naoya’s finger lace into hers as they resume walking, with Toji on her left. She’s trying to be cheerful today, wanting to appreciate the time she’s spending with them but her mind keeps leading her into thought. The night before, Toji stopped her from feeding and although she was aware of why and understood the risks Satoru spoke about, she tried to proceed anyway. There were a weird few minutes where she could only focus on drinking from her beloved and flailed wildly as he restrained her. ‘Why did it feel like I wanted the Titer energy too?’. She thinks to hold Toji’s hand as well in this moment but stops herself as she doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to the three of them. ‘He looked so concerned all while I couldn’t even stop…”. The ancestral voice advised her to feed. Her heart aches as she knows this was out of character and extremely selfish when they didn’t know how it could affect her. The one thing keeping her afloat in this matter is how Toji held her after she snapped out it, how he seemed to understand without saying that she didn’t mean to.

Toji lets Naoya and Elska get a step ahead of him so he can keep his eyes on her. After their last outing, he’s remaining highly aware of their surroundings and is watching for anything suspicious. He sees Naoya in his dark grey slacks and black dress shirt, leaning down to talk to her as they maneuver through the groups of families and friends, keeping her close. ‘Is she really, ok?’. Toji recalls how she struggled against him the night before. Gojo tried to rush to the bed after seeing her reaction but Toji was also wanting to shield her from him. Her eyes changed, showing the dashes of his green while she clawed at his arms and flashed her fangs with a glare. Toji knew that wasn’t his Elska but didn’t want to make her apprehensive, so he hid her the best he could from Satoru until they reverted. He heard something from within while this was all occurring, a voice that he swears communicated for him to feed his master. ‘Is that even possible? What the fuck was that?’. He rubs his bicep after feeling a sharp pain run through his arm.

Naoya leads them to a building that has loud club music playing inside, the base being noticeable from where they stand. He looks up and scrunches his face, “What the fuck is this?”. He checks his watch that bares 1:39 and is further confused by the daytime club scene. ‘I’ve failed.’. Toji can be heard groaning so he orients himself to face them both, “It was right here!!”. He takes in Elska’s kind smile as she’s clearly not going to make him feel bad for being wrong. Not knowing what to do to save their lunch adventure he stands there awkwardly to think but hears Elska say, “Well let’s enjoy a drink while we look up somewhere else nearby!”. He smiles at her ability to always find a silver lining and follows behind her up the ramp that leads inside.

As they walk through the room on the first floor, Toji feels this intense wave wash over him. Music is drowning out most other sounds but the way the bass pulses through him allows him to feel alive. The stench of cigarettes, sweat and alcohol sting his senses while they find a seat at the bar. Once sitting, he can smell Elska’s perfume when she whips her hair behind her shoulders, exposing her neck to which causes him to stir in the stool. Naoya hands out drink menus from them all but Toji doesn’t even look at it, knowing his order already and wanting it immediately. He feels ready to pounce but is cautiously calming himself as he knows this is not the place, ‘I am NOT Gojo…’. When she crosses her legs he feels the sting in his arm again, bringing his mood back to a wavering position.

“I’m thinking a red…’, Elska states loud enough to be heard while looking over the wine menu. Naoya smiles to her words as he announces his choice of Mojito. “That’s why you’re so sweet!”, she jokes vaguely in regards to his actual taste. She places a hand on Toji’s right knee before turning to him and feels him jump. Her voice now concerned, “Did I scare you!?”. She giggles until she sees the intensity in his eyes, wondering why he’s exuding so much right then. Her breath was held in her throat as she waited for his eyes to glow, knowing that would not be good for where they are. They never do though and she eventually resumes respiration as he places his own large hand over hers. ‘What was that?’. She now swivels her head around the large room, taking in all of the day drinkers on the dance floor and seated randomly about.

The bartender takes their orders with a smile and begins to serve them up right there. He recommended a red for Elska that he swears was his personal favorite and proudly waited for the approving sip. When she stated its palatability, he then left to attend other customers while Toji stared him down menacingly. ‘That’s a brave man to be flirting right in front of us.’.

Naoya sips his drink while eyeing Toji chug his whiskey on the rocks. “Slow down old man, we still have to go somewhere to eat!”, he laughs at the eyeroll he receives and notices Elska drinking pretty quickly as well. “Baby, what’s on your mind?”, he knows something is bothering her and wonders if they’re both just nervous after the last Titer attack. ‘Maybe I can convince her to dance it away!’, he thinks as he imagines himself twirling her under the disco ball. He just wants her to have a good day.

After finshing her glass already, she sets it down and tells Naoya, “I’m fine, I promise! I just really have to pee!”. He chuckles and adjusts himself so she has more room to slide off the stool. She announces that she’ll be right back before searching the walls for signs indicating the direction she should take. A drunken man bumps into her shortly after leaving the bar and can feel Toji increase his presence so she turns around to show that she’s fine. The whole room was lively except for Toji’s motionless staring. ‘I better be fast before he loses his shit.’.

“She shouldn’t be alone.” Toji followed her with his eyes as she turned a corner down a hall. He’s worried about her and has this familiar unyielding need to be in her vicinity. It’s almost as if he knows something is about to happen. “I’m going to wait for her, watch the drinks.”. He hears Naoya protest with grief but faces him and says, “Boy, why don’t you find us a place to eat since we’re out here because of you.”, and places a hand on Naoya’s shoulder as he goes to walk past to counter the aggression in his voice. “Order another round too will ya?”.

Elska stands up in the stall and flushes but doesn’t leave. She’s feeling like Toji’s eyes were trying to tell her something minutes ago but she can’t figure it out. All she knows is that it was sexy. She opens the latched door to wash and dry her hands but takes in her reflection in the mirror and thinks, ‘Life is so much crazier now…’, but smiles to herself knowing she had fantastic support from everyone. The door pushes open abruptly behind her and she gasps in startlement before realizing that it was Toji himself. “TOJI! What if there are others in here?!”. She can tell by his focus though that it didn’t matter anyway.

“Doll…” he mutters as he locks the door behind him. He sees that she was caught off guard when she asks what he was doing in there but he just walks closer until he’s inches away. “I need…”, he lifts her up so she can wrap her legs around his waist and supports her weight with his right arm. “I need you.”, he whispers while dragging the tip of his nose along her collar bone, watching her skin change pigment from his glowing eyes. Her hands are roaming through his hair and he moans to the sensation of her nails against his scalp. “Right now.”. He nearly growls as he sinks her into his groin from above.

“Toji…”, she was right about his prior intensity but can’t find it in her heart to stop him as he begins kissing the crook of her neck. The music can be heard through the walls along with idle chatter and it all serves as a reminder for where they’re at. She thinks of her pheromones and instantly pulls herself out of their beautiful trance. She whispers, “We shouldn’t do this here, my beloved.”, and frowns as he lifts his head to meet eyes. “I can’t release them here, it’ll be a disaster…”.

He agrees that they shouldn’t have sex and nods with a grunt but that’s not truly what brought him in lady’s room to begin with. Feeling his fangs form he shows them to her and happily takes in her reaction as she smiles and moves her hair while saying, “Oh! ok…but we have to be quick!”. He squeezes her cheek with his right hand that supporting her rear and drags his teeth across the skin of her neck. “I just need to taste you.”, he wantonly groans before biting down. She gasps to his intrusion and grips his hair as he begins to suckle. His own whimpers could be heard between his gulps, loving every drop he’s being given as he deciphers her soul and feelings. Her flavor, now that he’s not as overloaded by the information, is reminiscent of the aroma born from a field of flowers. Each time he swallows more of her blood, his overall restlessness fades while her squirming increases.

Elska cradles his head into her while melting in the master’s ecstasy flowing through her. Her eyes are closed as she bites her lip and attempts to muffle her sounds. “My beloved…”, she whimpers to him while her fingers stroke through his hair. His hypertonicity dwindles as she feels his left hand travel up her back, resting a grip on the nape of her neck. “I love you, my beloved Toji…”, and gasps in desperation as she can sense his own, wanting to assure him of his importance. Those same fingers now dance along her clavicle as he brings them over the wounds to close them while panting into her neck. He leaves his face buried there, adorning the area with his lips slowly as he she can tell he’s gathering himself. “Do you feel better?” She caresses his temple and cheek hoping that he did, feeling terrible that she didn’t recognize or even sense his disposition sooner. When he lifts his head to look at her again, she feels the need to lock her lips to his as they both exhale in a gratified union. She moves the hair out of his eyes and kisses his forehead before he gently puts her back down, him looking refreshed with a bashful grin.

He grabs a paper towel from the dispenser and wets it. In the mirror he can see Elska’s loving eyes watching him and the scar on the corner of his lips bends pleasantly. While wiping away any evidence, he shyly adds, “I love you too, doll.”, the words still seeming unreal. After discarding the bloodied paper towel, he takes up her hands in his own, “I’m sorry for following you in here, I just…I really needed to do that.”. He’s still uneasy by how compelling the desire was. “I felt like I wouldn’t get another chance.”. He sees the concern on her face and doesn’t want to worry her, “It was just time for me to feed doll, everything is ok.”. Her hand sails upwards to hold his cheek and leans into it. ‘I have to keep her safe.’.

Naoya is watching the condensation accumulate on his glass and is now feeling nervous as he checks his watch again. ‘Where are they?!’, he swings around in the stool to check the room and feels an incredible wave of relief as he finds Toji and Elska making their way back to the bar. After they sit he asks, “Did you guys go to the bathroom at the dorms or what?”, but picks up on the weird laughs he receives from them. ‘He wouldn’t have tried something sly, would he?’, and squints his eyes at Toji. ‘He looks way better though.’, and decides to let it go as he’s sure even a quickie couldn’t be that quick. “Baby…”, Naoya slides his phone over in front of them as he finishes his second Mojito, “I’ve only been here once but they have beautiful seating along the water!”. He cackles, “…and it’s only about half a mile away by foot…”.

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

Gojo is quickly walking through the whited-out halls with Choso following. He speaks without looking, “Choso, when we get in there…I have to warn you, you’re not expected.”. Gojo heard Choso stop in place so he turns around to see him. “You’re with me though so it’s fine! If they say anything to you, just ignore them. I will do the talking.”, and waves for the being to hurry.

“I…I don’t understand why I’m here with you and not everyone else…”. Choso is familiar with the Elders but can’t ignore the fact that he used to work for them where as he’s now on the opposing side. ‘Is this a good idea?’. He was expecting Gojo to sulk and whine to being called in today and is puzzled by how thrilled he seems.

Gojo jumps up to click his heels to the side before saying, “I don’t trust these cunts and I’m almost positive this is a trap of some sort…”. He notices Choso’s eyes widen with confusion so he continues, “If they’re trying to distract me from Elska, they fail if you’re there using your technique to watch her for me!”, his smug grin appears, “This way I’ll know the moment something happens.”. He’s sure the Elders have called him away in order to create an opportunity but has a mind to flip their plans upside down with this small act of rebellion. “I can never remember where to go! This shit all looks the same…it’s creepy.”.

Choso sighs but tries to keep up with Gojo’s quickened pace. The bright lighting overhead is blinding and causing him discomfort as he prefers darker places. He doesn’t know what to make of Gojo’s explanation but figures he’s along for the ride at this point anyways. “Do you think they’d even admit to what they’re doing?”. Choso understands the amount of secrecy the surrounds the Elder’s goals and is sure that he’s not even fully aware of their intentions.

“Yes. I will make sure they do.”, Satoru’s words are eerie but his expression is still delighted. “These fuckers have messed with us for long enough. They’re cowards, Choso and the things they want to do to my love are unacceptable.”. Gojo is certain that none of the others would have condoned what he’s thinking he’ll have to do which is why he said nothing before leaving. “They need to leave her alone and how can I call myself the strongest if I can’t protect her from these witless skin bags?”. Satoru at least wanted to inform Nanami of his meeting but hasn’t been able to reach the fellow shaman yet. ‘Did they get to him too?’. Gojo is certain that something happened with Shoko but was waiting to see how things played out. ‘As long as she’s fine, I know she can handle it.’, but worries about Nanami’s reaction if he’s already discovered this too.

‘What is he going to do?’, Choso feels like something big is about to happen, something that cannot be taken back. The unnerving pressure in his gut hints that whatever it is, it’s not good. “Itadori and the others are still on standby but isn’t it odd that they haven’t been given any missions?”. They pass more rooms before Satoru finally stops. Choso watches the silver shaman’s expression change to lethally cold one before straightening himself with resolve, and knows he should do the same. ‘I guess I have to just trust him…’, the thought not sitting comfortably at all.

Gojo quietly speaks, “Remember, don’t mind them, they’re not worth the stress. You do not serve them any longer.”, and places a reassuring hand on the hybrids shoulder. He’s impressed when he looks over the being, seeing that his previous nervousness has been cast away and replaced by a collected ensemble. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m right about him.’, and feels poised in the dark nature that lurks beneath Choso’s kindness. Turning back to the door, Gojo kicks it open fiercely before entering. “WHAT’S UP FUCKERS?!”.

Three people sit along one side of a long white table, seeming prepared aside from the sudden commotion. The first is a representative of the Kamo clan, a new middle-aged face Satoru has never seen draped in dark red robes. The second is a Zenin, the bought errand man known better as “Peaches” for a less known reason. Gojo knew him rather well from his childhood and all of the clan events he was forced to attend. The third, however, catches Satoru by complete surprise and angers him. The woman sitting as a representative for his own clan is none other than his mother.

Gojo seethes with white knuckled fists, “What the fuck are you doing here?”, as old anguish resurfaces between the two. Satoru hasn’t been home in years and purposefully. He was sure if he stayed any longer, he’d annihilate his own family.

The Kamo rep scoffs, “Yes… well hello to you too Satoru Gojo. We could ask you the same.” He points to Choso, “Isn’t that Kamo property?”. The hybrid and Gojo fail to give him the time of day, causing tension.

Gojo never takes his eyes off of his mother while waiting in silence as Choso dutifully ignores them. His eyes darken, “I asked you a fucking question you miserable old whore.”. He feels the urge to gather a technique but calms himself with his better judgement.

His mother speaks, “That is no way to talk to the woman who raised you!”, she laughs in a haughty way but brings her dramatics to a close, “Why else would I be here? You can’t be left to just do whatever you please…”. She tilts her nose up and displays her notion that she is untouchable.

Peaches shifts in his chair, “You have something that needs to be returned to the Zenin’s. Master Naoya was promised her hand.”. He’s honestly terrified of Gojo but would never allow this to show. Satoru darts stormy eyes in his direction and he feels a chill race down his spine.

“Let’s just be frank about it. You want Elska.”. Gojo voice is calm, almost lighthearted. He brings his gaze back to his mother, feeling a little better about the situation knowing he’s going to handle more business than he expected today. “Choso, please start now.”. Gojo doesn’t have to look since he can feel Choso’s energy gathering to form the window. He watches the representatives lean to figure out what the hybrid is up to and laughs out loud. “My friend here”, He scowls at the Kamo man, “is going to observe Elska while we meet.”. He winks to Peaches, “She’s with Naoya right now for your information…Toji too.”.

Gojo’s mother bursts into hyaena laughter, threatening to rupture the unsuspecting eardrums of the others. “You think you have it all figured out, don’t you? Such a pitiful child.”. Her long white hair waves in the air as she jerks her head to see Peaches’s perplexed expression. “Don’t believe him just because he speaks it…trust me…”, and folds her arms while thinking of how many more beatings her son should have to experience when younger.

Peaches clears his throat and tries to save face, “Surely this is some kind of joke. Master Naoya loathes your very existence Satoru.”. He’s now chuckling to himself having felt it was a test of some sort, “Are we not on better terms than that of your games?”. He’s now sure it was a lie.

Gojo regrets that Peaches is here today but is unable to overlook the fact that the old goat is in cahoots with this situation. ‘It can’t be helped!’. He turns to Choso now for the first time since they walked into the room and is reassured that nothing bad is happening. Now facing Peaches again, “You know… Zenin and I got off on the wrong foot.” He grins, “But now we have threesomes!”, loving the shock that plasters everyone’s face. The Kamo man choked on his own saliva to the mention. Gojo looks at his mother, “Don’t be upset just because no one wants to fuck you. It can’t be helped when your cunt leaks venom.”.

Choso sits motionlessly as he listens to the meeting unfold, completely flabbergasted by Satoru’s way of speaking. ‘What did his mother do to him to make him hate her so much?’, he hesitates to explore the options in his mind as he can only imagine. Aside from that though, Choso has never witnessed such a display of blatant disrespect to the higher ups and is completely unnerved by the silver shamans ever changing composure. ‘What is he planning to do?’, the ominous feelings he’s experiencing from this are only growing at this point.

Peaches is red with embarrassment, “HE WOULD NEVER DO THAT!”, and allows his anger on the matter to spill over. The representative huffs relentlessly to the accusations and feels disgraced for his ears being exposed to such vile talk. When expecting to see an angry Gojo, he’s further confused by the smile that meets him instead.

Gojo runs his finger along the table as he casually saunters in front of each of them. “If you three decide to get rowdy…I’ll have to kill you.”. He basks in the glares and especially enjoys his mother’s fear as she knew he was not playing around. Once they become settled he says to her, “You being here makes you my enemy, mommy. How long have you been involved?”. She starts to swat his question away with a scoff but everyone leaps out of their skin when Satoru yells, “HOW FUCKING LONG?!”. He increases his presence tenfold and watches the representatives writhe in distress before him.

She says nothing.

The Kamo rep is sweating bullets as he’s only heard the tales of horrors committed at the hand of Gojo. ‘Genghis said nothing about this hostility.”, he thinks to himself as he comprehends that he’s bitten off more than he could chew. He’s afraid to peel his eyes away from the powerful shaman making inquiring demands but also wants to flee the room. ‘This guy is even crazier in person!’.

Gojo takes a deep breath and exhales dramatically, “Well…this is going nowhere…”, and summons energy into his hand as he aims it at the Kamo representative. The nameless man cries out in fear and studders in his breathing. Gojo notices Choso jump to his feet but the being doesn’t say anything. Only when the defeated female voice utters, “3 years.”, does he quell his attack. He thinks about that answer for a moment before acknowledging her again. ‘That’s strange.’. Looming across from her he now asks, “I’d already had my love for some time before that, why did you join them to conspire against me at that point? Don’t make me blow this poor guy’s skull open…”, he warns of his lack of patience.

His mother sulks in her seat having her hands tied about the questioning, “I thought she was a passing infatuation at first, like all of the others but you completely neglected your responsibilities of being an heir because of that wretch.” She’s met with unforgiving eyes and wishes she was able to smack the audacity out of him but has learned the hard way about his response to abuse. “She is not yours Satoru and you jeopardize the entire balance of the clans with your actions of keeping her.”. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Peaches nod in support and feels reaffirmed by it.

Gojo slips a wild laugh and slaps the table, “She is mine though. I voyaged worlds away to find her. I went to incredible lengths to bring her back…”, he sighs while resting his hands on his hips. “You do know, mom, these Titers that have you in their pocket…they were going to use her to assassinate me.”. The atmosphere of the room deteriorates at the mention of the Titer clan. Its obvious that they were left unaware to Gojo having knowledge of the group’s silent partner.

His mother jumps from her seat and screams, “AND THEY SHOULD HAVE SUCCEEDED!”. All of the hatred she’s ever felt for her son sears the air around them, her chest feeling lighter for the honesty but heavier for the fear. “You were destined for greatness but even with your gifts, something is wrong with you! How you ever came out of me? I will never know…”. She feels she must stand her ground or else the structure they’ve served their entire lives will crumble. “You’re evil. You always have been.”.

Choso is still watching Naoya, Toji and Elska but can’t help but be distracted by the darkness exuding Gojo. ‘What is going on here?’, he doesn’t understand how this is official business and even finds himself feeling defensive over Satoru. ‘That woman is appalling.’, he thinks as he considers Gojo’s upbringing and decides there’s more to the man than he ever considered. He looks back to the window after surmising that none of the representatives would attack. Choso becomes rattled when the window shows Toji drinking from Elska in a cramped bathroom, ‘I can’t believe the lighting permits this, it must be dim.’, He temporarily becomes fixated with Toji’s fangs anchored into her as she quietly moans. He’s not seen anyone but her feed before. ‘So, his bite feels good to her as well?’. He brushes his lap as if to tell it, “Knock it off”, but his attention is soon stolen by Peaches’s mention of Elska.

“If you don’t return Elska Oda then this will be seen as an act of aggression Satoru, please…don’t do thi-…” Peaches can no longer speak as Gojo grips hit throat and is thrown into a fit of fright.

“I kind of liked you…I was use to you at least…but if you ask me that one more time, I will break your fucking neck.” Gojo feels his face twitch as he squeezes the old man’s beard into his throat, “You guys are fucking with me today and I don’t appreciate it.”. Never letting go, he turns to his mother but also glances at the petrified Kamo rep, “I do not give a single flying fuck about the clans, I couldn’t care less of your archaic ways and I am never going to surrender my Elska.”. As Peaches reaches a critical point of needing air, Gojo clamps his fingers deeper, “I left my love’s side today to be here because of your guys’ little fucking Titer friends. That is what we will discuss.”.

Gojo’s mother rushes to pull her son’s hand away but right as she’s reaching out, Satoru releases Peaches. She watches the old man heave and choke uncontrollably and shoots hateful eyes. “How dare you lay a hand on him? Do you fear nothing?”, she thinks to threaten with her husband but knows that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree so it’s likely useless.

Satoru smirks while studying Peaches inability to regain his breath, “I crushed his trachea a bit, he’s going to need medical attention soon.”. He watches the Kamo man stand up in disbelief and warns, “My mother is right about one thing, I do not fear you or your influence.”, and smiles approvingly as the man takes his seat again hesitantly.

“You psychotic little freak!”, his mother cries out in disgust, “We need to get him to a doctor!”. She feels herself fill with anxiety as she was not expecting him to go this far. “Let us take him!”.

Satoru hisses quietly, “If you guys weren’t so dead set in dicking me around then this wouldn’t have happened. No one leaves until I get some answers.”. He strolls around the table, loving how terrified the Kamo representative became when he was close. He yanks up the suffocating Peaches and throws him back into his chair, “Have some fucking dignity…I thought better of you.”. When Peaches makes eye contact, he can see the dread wash over the man, knowing their dynamic has changed forever.

The Kamo man speaks up sheepishly, “Wh…What is it that you want to know?”. He’s all for handing over the required information as he clearly cares about his life more than the others. Satoru’s expression softens as the other two representatives hang their mouths open, not expecting him to fold so easily. Gojo states, “Everything.”, which causes the rep to tense up as he doesn’t know where to begin. He hastily blurts out, “Suguru Getou inherited ancient techniques as well. The Titers are planning on taking the girl for themselves to ensure their supremacy.” He inhales sharply, “The head of their clan met his end by the hands of your company, they want to repay by being rid of you as you are their final target. You’re still too strong because of your infinity, so the girl’s fate was determined the moment you were born.”.

“You… weak imbecile…”, Gojo’s mother retaliates to the sensitive information by pushing Peaches backwards causing him to fall to the ground and thrash violently. Without so much as a second thought, she gathers energy into her hand and expels it at the Kamo man’s mouth. The representative dons his own matching blood as his brain matter exits the back of his head, decorating the white surroundings behind him. Only a cavernous jagged hole remains where the words escaped him only seconds prior. His body slumps over the table as he leaks his remaining essence into a pool that shortly forms a dripping pattern to the white tiled floor.

Choso defensively stands as the black tattoo on his faces begins to wave. “Satoru…”, is all he says while watching Gojo’s mother now strain to lift the blue tinted and gasping Peaches back upright his seat. ‘His mother is just as rash…’. Choso waits for a few moments longer but is eager to gauge Gojo when their eyes finally meet. ‘Why does he look so satisfied?’, he questions himself as he’s met with that smug smile. The Zenin man’s eyes look like they may pop out of his head but Choso can still make out the man’s reaction to his own presence. He hears Gojo say, “Everything is alright Choso, don’t worry. Just watch them.”, but the being is unable to simply sit with ease at this time. ‘How is this alright?’.

“And you wonder where I get it from?”, Gojo is irritated that the only man that was willing to talk is now dead but he’s also able to take the information to heart because of how his mother reacted. ‘So all of this really is because of me…’, he thinks of Elska with a heavy heart knowing all that she’s been through, even before he got his hands on her was his fault. ‘My love…I will make this right.’.

Gojo’s mother now sits back down, wondering if she went too far and gave away their hand. Peaches struggles to speak next to her but she can make out that he’s trying to question the fidelity of the Kamo’s last words. She sighs, “Look Peaches, I like you but I’m siding with Genghis.”. Peaches gurgles himself into a purple hue as he still cannot breathe or talk properly. She understands that Peaches was completely ignorant to the Titer’s planned betrayal to the Zenins and calm says, “They’re not wanting to eliminate other clans, they’re just going to help guide us to this proposed peace, don’t worry so much.”.

Peaches can only think of Master Naoya who he feels is in grave danger after hearing this information. ‘I…he has to know…Master Na…he needs to be made aware!’. He thinks to grab his phone but he wouldn’t be able to relay the information, nor is he fast enough to text it. Peaches chokes in his stress and can tell his body is slowly shutting down after being deprived oxygen and feels completely hopeless about his predicament. When his heavy eyes meet Gojo’s he freezes in apprehension while listening intently.

Satoru sighs dramatically with growing anticipation, “Now…where were we?”.

Next Chapter (38) >>

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Tagging : @angelofthorr ❤️

15 notes · View notes

vegalocity · 3 years

Note

Hugs 16, Kisses 27 and 38 for Jasminetea, please because I need more content of this ship

Affection meme

16. ‘not wanting to let go’ hugs

27. desperate kisses

38. relieved kisses

I'd love to contribute to the jasminetea revolution Tigerseye~

Today was supposed to be a frightening day, yes, but not like this.

Pigsy had mocked him for his pining over Sandy for too long. And he couldn’t shut him up by mocking him over his thing for Monkey King anymore because unlike him Pigsy actually had the nerve to go for what he wanted. So once he was tired of Tang firing back about his own pining and suffering he just… went out and did it.

And Sun Wukong thought the initiative was endearing and then Tang didn’t even have a leg to stand on anymore because suddenly Pigsy wasn’t even a companion in Pining Hell anymore.

And he was getting tired of all the ‘That is NOT a good excuse! You’re a freeloader but you’re not a COWARD Tang!’ too, so he figured it was maybe time he should just grow a spine and do it too.

Today he was supposed to march over to Sandy’s boat and just.. Finally come clean. Tell him how long he’d been pining after him, whether it ended well for him or not, the emotions had all been bottled up for so long sometimes they felt like they were about to burst at the most inconvenient times.

And then Sandy would have to turn him down because Tang was man enough to acknowledge when he doesn’t really have a chance with somebody, but he’d let him down gently because Sandy was too damn good like that, and assure him a hundred times over that this didn’t have to make things weird at all and they definitely can still be friends, and that he’s super flattered and anybody would be lucky to have Tang, just… not him. And Tang would take it as well as he could and find at least some catharsis at the end of the day over it.

This was not supposed to be a day where everything went to shit so quickly. This was not supposed to be a day where some… Demon he didn’t even care enough to remember the damn name of (but he KNEW he was a Problem during the Journey to the West at SOME point) decided to raise some havoc and go absolutely batshit over the city.

Xiaotian, Xiaojiao, and surprisingly Red Son, took care of it because of course they did… But…

Sandy took a really rough hit for Xiaojiao, and… look… they were in what was essentially the superhero business in this day and age, Life risking battles were par for the course. And tanking rough hits was something Sandy would openly say he was fine with, that he was perfectly content to be the wall of muscle between his friends and danger.

That didn’t make it okay. It didn’t mean that Tang wouldn’t be absolutely devastated if something happened to him while he was protecting someone else.

That didn’t mean it wouldn’t destroy him if Sandy died without Tang ever telling him the truth because it just happened to be planned on Today of all days.

They were in what was essentially the superhero business.

They couldn’t afford to leave things unsaid anymore.

So when the battle was done, the demon (he did NOT care enough to remember which one he was- It was the Rhino King, fucking dammit) sent running, and everyone was pulling eachother from the rubble, Tang placed himself as the one to fuss over Sandy, since Pigsy was already fussing over Xiaotian and Xiaojiao whom both already had minimal injuries (and Red Son, but he kept shouting about how his assistance had been extremely conditional today and he wasn’t interested in being babied)

Though that knowing grin Pigsy shot him before doing so was certainly doing something to remind him about every single embarrassing story he had on the pig since college to threaten to indulge Sun Wukong in as what little blackmail he had left.

Sandy was a fair bit more roughed up, granted he’d been thrown through multiple buildings and every crash against the concrete that had made Tang’s gut lurch in fear and dread.

“You’ve got to take better care of yourself in these fights.” He found himself huffing quietly as he applied antiseptic to the huge gashes that had torn their way onto Sandy’s back.

He didn’t even flinch, and just laughed at the idea.

“I’ll be fine, Tang. Nothing small like this would be enough to take me down!” He forced the sterile cloth a little harder onto a certain wound right along Sandy’s spine to get the gravel out and felt the fish demon go rigid beneath his hands.

“Haha! Besides-” His voice was strained. “Rather it be me than the kids.” And the worst part was that he couldn’t even debate that! He was certain all of them would rather throw themselves into the jaws of agony than let any of the kids fall in themselves. (and by the surprisingly quick way Red submitted to Pigsy’s fretting they’d probably have another name on that list before too long)

But-

“That doesn’t make it less terrifying to have to see.” He leaned forward just a bit, feeling his forehead brush the space between Sandy’s shoulderblades, one of the few parts of his back that weren’t raw or freshly bandaged.

He felt Sandy take in a breath beneath him. “I’m sorry Tang… Musta’ looked pretty bad from the sidelines, huh?” The sidelines.

“You have no idea.”

He was always on the sidelines, huh? Long before all of this fighting and magic started coming around.

He’d only become friends with Pigsy in the first place because the history buildings and the kitchens were close to each other so they’d pass through the same pathways on their respective ways to class back in college, and he was obnoxious and curious and Pigsy was the only one from the Culinary Arts major who’d indulged him. He’d only even met Sandy at all because of their history.

He’d just always been extremely lucky to annoy the right people. Because he never took any real chances. He’d talk a lot of game back then, and even sometimes now, but he was always the real wallflower of the group.

Did he really have it in him?

It wasn't really a good hug but he didn't have to pull away, he didn't necessarily want to anyway. If he just left it there Sandy didn't have to know. He could just continue on and it never would raise any red flags.

He could.

Tang shuffled around, and though Sandy remained seated he twisted his body to face him and smiled that big, sweet, beautiful smile.

“I’ll try to be a little more careful, There is a difference between being a body shield and playing defense, I gotta remember that.”

Fuck it.

Leap of faith time.

…

He… He was supposed to say something. He was supposed to just say how he felt. But the impulse to DO something instead of just say something had for a moment driven him temporarily insane, so instead of just telling Sandy how he felt, like a normal person would have done, Tang decided to pick the stupid version of that and grab Sandy by his necklace and pull him in.

But dammit- he was TIRED of this!

And-.... it felt good. It felt really fucking good to finally kiss him. Sandy let out a muffled yelp of surprise but quieted quickly.

-But he didn’t kiss back.

Tang pulled away and willed himself not to be too upset, he knew this was coming after all.

Didn’t make it hurt any less to have the confirmation though.

Too late now. Might as well make the whole thing explicit.

“I’ve been in love with you for too damn long to watch you throw your life away like that.”

He braced himself for the vague noise of distress when it sunk in for Sandy what that meant. Braced himself for the ‘Oh… Tang I’m uh… I’m really sorry and I’m super flattered-’

And then a large, gentle hand hooked under his chin to keep him in place and-

Oh…

Well… that was a balm on his nerves. Tang responded to the second kiss as much as he could, which was admittedly a bit difficult for how chaste it actually was, but placing his hands on Sandy’s arm and leaned in, and- was this real? Was this really happening? Was he about to wake up at home halfway tangled up in bedsheets and cursing another day of being a coward?

He didn’t want it to end, but when Sandy pulled away and smiled down at him that big beautiful bashful smile, cheeks turning purple with a truly precious blush he couldn’t complain.

And then the sounds of cheering from the others broke up the moment.

“Fucking FINALLY”

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#Letters to vega #Vega writes stories too #LMK Sandy #LMK Tang #Lego Monkie Kid #Jasminetea #affection meme

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pocketfulofrogers · 5 years

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Solace

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You’ve recently switched to the night shift and the adjustment hasn’t been great. Your neighbor would agree.

Notes: This is a part of @buckygrantbarnes writing challenge! I chose concept #5: Character and Reader are neighbors, and Reader keeps waking Character up by setting a really loud alarm in the middle of the night.

I know this is a smidge late, but life has been crazy! Thanks for hosting, I had a lot of fun writing this!!

Steve Rogers considers himself a reasonable man, he really does. He remains patient with the trainees while he shows them new techniques again and again until his mind melts, taking each clipped jaw in stride. He even always smiles at the children trying to climb his body in their excitement when all he wants is a coffee.

During those precious moments he isn’t in the suit, he’s a very quiet, laid back man.

Which is why he’s gone two months without breaking down your door in the middle of the night when he hears that shrill, incessant alarm you seem to be immune to seeping through the shared wall.

He’s been tortured before. This is worse.

Each time he comes home from a mission, peels the Kevlar from his body, and sinks to his bed, your alarm steals away the hope of a quick slumber and he loathes you for it.

Sam tells him to try writing a letter, Natasha offers to break in and steal it.

He considers both options, the latter more seriously, until one afternoon he runs into you after his morning jog. The elevator doors are almost closed when he shoves his hand in the small opening. He mutters an apology, but hears no response.

You’re leaned on the wall, arms crossed before your chest, head resting against the metal and for a moment he thinks you may actually be asleep.

He doesn’t say anything, he’s been there.

“6B right?” You mumble. He’s not sure he’s heard you correctly. “I’m 6A. I think I’ve seen you around.”

When you look over at him, his stomach flops, does somersaults in his belly. You look positively wrecked. The light blue scrubs you’re wearing are splattered and stained with various colors, and the bags under your eyes are deep enough he’s almost concerned for your health.

Yet he thinks you may be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Uh- yeah, Steve.” He manages.

You nod and go back to resting your head. “Y/N.”

He imagines he may be more tolerant going forward.

He tries to catch you again in the following weeks, but your schedule seems to be more unpredictable than his. That stupid, stupid alarm still wakes him most nights, but he finds it easier to suffer through now.

One night he comes home after a long mission. Exhaustion weighs his body enough he almost considers passing out by the door, but after days of sleeping on dirt floors, his back is pleading for the comfort of his bed.

Looking at his watch he knows he has about 45 minutes before you have to be up for work. Maybe it’s the hope that for one night he could have a restful sleep, or perhaps the humidity of the jungle had just escaped had dissolved his patience, but his feet have padded their way to the hallway before he truly knows what he’s going to do.

Barefoot before your door, he knocks. Once. Twice. Then a third time.

He waits patiently until he hears you mumble something less than kind from behind the door and finds himself smiling at the irony.

Having someone pound on your door at midnight, ripping you from a dead sleep, is only about the third worst thing to happen to you this week.

You fling the door open. “Do you have any…“

Of all the people it could’ve been, Martha from 5A coming to complain about nonexistent noise, the new mom from 6F asking you to check out her baby for the third time this week, or the teen from 2 trying to convince you he definitely needs a medical marijuana card, a very tired Captain America leaning on your door frame is the last thing you expected.

He raises a brow at your unfinished threat. “Ah yes, 12:09. 21 minutes before your alarm.”

You furrow your brows. “How do- “

“Look,” He interrupts, pushing off from your door frame, you don’t miss his wince- the way he favors his right side. “I know you probably have a very important job, and getting up in the middle of the night for shifts like those must be brutal, but I’ve just gotten off quite a draining ‘shift’ myself and was hoping that for at least one night you could just not.”

You’re catching on. “’Just not?’ Are you talking about my alarm?” He nods. You’re stunned, having thought that with as much as you pay a month, the walls would’ve been much thicker. Or is it really that loud? Adjusting to the night shift had been rough. “Oh, wow, I am so sorry.”

He shakes his head and points to his ear. “Super good hearing, don’t worry about it. Thank you.” He turns to walk away and that’s when you notice his limp, and the blood.

“Woah, wait. Did you have anyone look at that?” You point at his leg and he shrugs, giving you a less than assuring ‘it’s fine’ and goes to open his apartment door. “Uh- no. That’s a 6-inch lac that’s still actively bleeding? Are you insane? Please, let me take a look.”

“That’s very kind, but-“

“Your ribs could also be broken and I’ll just spend all day worrying about if you died in your sleep from a punctured lung or something. I can’t have Captain America’s death on my conscious.”

He takes a moment to look you up and down and weighs his chances of being able to talk his way out of whatever this is. He’ll heal on his own, eventually, but the look in your eyes tells him he’d have more luck trying to convince Martha he doesn’t actually stomp around just to annoy her.

“Alright.”

Managing to get Steve to strip down to some shorts and a tank top, he’s sat at your kitchen table. It took you a solid five minutes to convince him that he needed stitches, and lucky for him, you steal suture kits.

“You know, when you told me your name it would’ve been the perfect moment to mention you’re Steve as in Steve Rogers.” You lightly chastise, holding pressure to his thigh.

He doesn’t even flinch. “Not like I was hiding it. You did look right at me.”

You laugh. “Well I had just gotten off a 36-hour shift, you cannot hold that against me.”

He watches quietly as you work, forehead creased with worry and constantly mumbling about how he’s lucky there’s no signs of infection, with an occasional ‘you really weren’t going to do anything about this’. He finds your commentary amusing.

Your fingers glide across his skin and your touch is faint enough it almost tickles. You’re worried about nerve damage, but he thinks you’re just that good.

With a pile of red stained gauze by your side and the area around his wound as clean as you could get it, you grab a lamp from your desk and pick up the needle with your hemostat. Well, not yours, really. Also stolen, but sterile!

When you hold the needle up and adjust your grip on the clamp, he gives you a wary look.

“What?”

“I don’t know how I feel about a thief stitching me back together.” He says with a raised brow. There’s a glint in his eyes, the smallest twitch at the edge of his lips.

You roll your eyes. “With as hard as they work me, this is the least they owe me.”

“What do you even use them for?”

Your quite for a moment. “Sewing.” You say quietly and he barks a laugh. “I just- hush, don’t distract me.”

He complies and sits back to watch you fondly. Your teeth sink into the pillow of your lip each time you push the needle into the flesh of his thigh. You had apologized for not having any kind of numbing agent, but he had assured you that he’d be just fine.

Still, you glace up with each pull to make sure it’s not some macho show. Then again, he was Captain American and by the look of him at this moment, the pinch of a needle is probably more an annoying after thought than anything else.

Cutting the last stitch, you place the bandaging and offer him a smile. He thanks you sincerely, but you tsk when he tries to get past you to the door.

“Shirt off.” You order. He takes a half step back, cocks his head to the side and smirks. How he could be even slightly amorous at this moment is beyond you. “I want to check your ribs, make sure nothing’s displaced.” Something in his eyes shifts, he’s hesitant- guarded- and you’re unsure why. “I haven’t seen you take a single normal breath in the time you’ve been here. A simple, quick exam can tell me if there’s anything to worry about.”

He looks away and you’re about to suggest that he just check in with the medical team at wherever it is that super people work. They have to have medical staff, right? You tuck that question away for later.

Steve looks back to you and nods before pulling the white cotton over his head.

You would be completely stunned at the site of his quite perfect physique if it weren’t for the bruises blossoming bright red and dark purple across his torso.

You catch yourself moving closer, reaching forward to graze a finger around the outline of the prominent colors. “Jesus, Steve.” You whisper.

“Heard that phrase before, never in a situation like this, though.” He mumbles, but you ignore him and begin to prod as carefully as you can.

When you apply pressure to a certain spot that looks the most concerning, his breath exhales quickly in a hiss. “Sorry.” You mumble and find yourself asking how this happened before you can stop yourself.

He grabs your hand in his to stop your exploring fingers. The memory from these injuries hadn’t quite made their way through him yet. They sat too fresh on the forefront of his mind and being this vulnerable before someone he barely knows is quickly becoming too much.

“I’m fine, darlin’, really.” He says softly. You of course don’t buy it for a minute, but the proximity of him steals your fight, you lose your argument in the blue of his eyes.

“Ice it.” You order weakly. “Maybe just bruised, probably fractured.”

He nods, twitching the edges of his lips into a smile. Your hand is still in his and he brings it up to ghost your knuckles against his lips before thanking you again.

He leaves you there, stunned. You’re 15 minutes late for work.

“Wait. You had the Steve Rogers in your apartment half naked?” Your friend prods during your lunch break. You nod and lower your forehead to rest against your coffee cup. “And you didn’t even take advantage, kudos to you. Wait, is this a HIPAA violation?”

You sigh and look up to meet her narrowed eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know. Wouldn’t be surprised if SHIELD took me out, though.”

“Is that even a thing anymore? I can’t keep up with that craziness.” She shakes her head.

“Guess I could ask my neighbor, but I doubt he’d tell me the truth.”

“You have to see him again. You’re going to see him again right?” You try to ignore the excitement in her voice.

“He is my neighbor and those sutures have to come out eventually. Although he’ll probably just rip them out himself.” The thought makes you cringe.

“You know that’s not-“

Thankfully your pager goes off right then, cutting her interrogation short. “Sorry! Incoming trauma, gotta bounce.”

Steve comes home that evening to ice packs with the nearby hospital logo on them by his door. “Stop stealing from work.” He calls out and is rewarded with your laughter floating out from under your door.

He starts to make a habit of it, showing up at your doorstep sometimes bruised, usually bloody. You start to keep a bigger stock of supplies around, and worry on the nights he doesn’t show before you leave when you know he’s on mission.

He tries to message you when service and circumstance allows, just to ease you mind.

Every once in a while, you’ll find him sitting in the hallway beside your door, waiting with food and some injury that needs your attention.

Eventually you get around to asking him if there just isn’t any medical staff where he is, he tells you this is just more convenient. You don’t prod, but think it may have more to do with the way you treat him. Like a patient, a person, not an Avenger.

One night a knock awakes you in the middle of the night. You jump out of bed, knowing it’s most likely him. When you open the door and lay eyes on him, your heart stops.

He’s leaned against the doorway, barely able to hold himself up. There’s blood on the wall, his hands, his face, everywhere. He’s ghostly pale and you can tell he can hardly focus his eyes.

Before he can pass out, you wedge yourself under his arm and try to guide him inside.

“Probably shoulda just went to medical, shouldn’t’ve driven.” He tells you before collapsing onto your couch and you work quickly to get his suit off, apologizing each time he groans in pain.

“Oh god, Steve.” You whisper eyeing the deep gash on his side and quickly apply pressure.

He grunts. “I hope to hear you say something like that under different circumstances one day. You know, not in horror at the state of my health.”

“Well, don’t only show up when you’re hurt.” You shoot back and tape the gauze in place so you can get a line started. You had hoped he’d never show up this hurt, but a part of you can be relieved that you were prepared for it.

“Hey, I brought you food at work last week.”

You ignore that. “Steve, this is bad. Really bad. What the hell were you thinking?”

Ignoring his half assed excuse, you get to work, quickly and tensely, mumbling your thoughts and a few vague threats about him not being allowed to die on you.

“Don’t worry, darlin, wouldn’t dream of goin’ anywhere.”

Once you get the bleeding under control unlike your emotions, you start to lay into him. Loudly. Your reaction is to be blamed on fear, the absolute nightmare that the man before you, who you’ve reluctantly become very attached to, could have actually died in your arms.

“I mean, seriously, Steve! How could you be so reckless?”

He drapes his arm over his eyes. “I like you more than the docs we have.”

You huff and begin cleaning the rest of him up. “I’m sure they’re just as good at their jobs.”

He shakes his head and willingly gives you the arm resting above him when you reach for it. “You’re better.” He states simply and you snort your disbelief. “Your hands are softer. I think your touch reminds me I’m still human.” He says quietly, eyes trained on the ceiling.

Your movements stall, his admission leaving you a little dazed. When he tilts his head to look over at you, you swear you stop breathing.

“I think I’ll always prefer you.”

The rational part of you is telling you to just chalk this up to blood loss, not to get your hopes up because this could get so complicated. But the other part, oh the hopeful part, was singing.

“I think I prefer you too.”

He laughs. “As a patient? Neighbor? Avenger?”

“Oh, come on now.” You start seriously. “The Black Widow went to Capitol Hill and basically told congress they wouldn’t arrest her because they didn’t have the balls. She will always be my favorite. You might be a close second.”

“Might be?��

“You’re first for everything else. Take the win, Steve.”

It only takes five minutes and two bribes to convince him to stay the night and that you should call out of work to keep an eye on him. He had protested, given you every excuse he could come up with, but you are well versed in the language of Steve Rogers.

You set a takeout menu from his favorite place before him during the middle of his ‘you have already done so much for me’ speech and he grumbles out an ‘alright’.

He awakes just after dawn to your head on his thigh, your body tucked tightly between his leg and the couch, and the intro music to some infomercial droning in the background. The last thing he wants to do is move, he could watch you like this all day. Maybe one day he’ll get to.

When you finally wake up, he’s gone. There’s a blanket from the laundry room draped over you and the smell of him still on your pillow.

A part of you is hurt, but you’re not quite sure why.

You don’t hear from him for two weeks.

Some coworkers suggest going downtown to blow of some steam and, since you knew Steve was home all week out of harm’s way, you agree. It’s not often you get to go out stress free.

However, mixing alcohol with a list of fairly serious questions that only one extremely handsome and infuriating super soldier could answer isn’t the greatest idea. Especially when said blue-eyed day dream lives right next door.

It isn’t long before you’re stumbling up to his door, despite the warnings of everyone that night that you absolutely should not. 2am wasn’t that late and when you get an idea in your head it’s hard to shake it.

He answers faster than you thought he would and his amused expression only distracts you for a few moments.

“You’re drunk.” He points out, trying to withhold a grin.

You scrunch your nose. “A smidge.”

“Lose your key?”

“No. Well… maybe. But that’s not why I’m here.” You take a step forward, place a hand on the door frame to steady yourself, and point a single finger at him. “I have questions that need answers, Cap. Let me in.” He raises his brows. “Please.” You add and he obliges.

You make your way to his kitchen and take a seat at the island, he trails in behind you. “Would you like some water? I think you should have some water.”

He sets a glass before you when you don’t reply, but with his eyes watching you, concern in the crease of his brow, you suddenly feel vulnerable- exposed. Where had that burning rage at him for leaving you without a word gone? Why had you been so angry to begin with?

It’s difficult to sift through the thoughts in your head, and the alcohol wasn’t exactly making that easier. What was the word for what you felt? Used? Forgotten? The last thing you wanted to do was sound like a needy child.

He leans forward onto the counter before you. “What’s on your mind, darlin’?”

Instead of meeting his eyes, you run the tip of your finger through the condensation on the glass, watch it pool on the marble.

“Talk to me. What is it?” He asks again

Suddenly you wish you had just gone home.

You chug the water. “It’s nothing, never mind. I’m just gonna go to bed.”

He steps in front of you before you can make it to the door, pleads with you again to just talk to him. You try to get past him, but his hand on your hip makes you freeze. He trails it up your side, grazes his knuckles up your arm. His fingers stop below your chin to gently tilt your eyes up to his.

His lips have barely parted to form his next plea when you cut him off. “What am I to you.” You barely whisper.

That catches him off guard.

“If this is just a convenience thing for you, I need to know.” He looks confused but you power through before he can respond. “Maybe your admission was just the blood loss talking and you disappeared to keep me from getting attached, although it’s a little late for that. Or, maybe there’s someone else. Which is fine-“

“Do you think I’m using you?” He appears hurt at the insinuation and suddenly it’s difficult to meet his eyes. “Look at me. Is that what you really think?”

“I don’t know what to think, Steve.”

He crashes his lips to yours. A sudden almost desperate act that leaves you useless. Your brain stalls and suddenly he is all there is.

It’s needy and messy, but it is everything you needed. You thread your fingers through his hair and press yourself to him. The soft feel of him steals your hurt, dissipates that pit in your stomach, and you could almost hate him for it.

He pulls away, breathless. “What part of ‘I will always prefer you’ wasn’t clear?”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #buckygrantbarnes #buckygrantbarnes writing challenge

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floatingpetals · 5 years

Text

Call Of The Mountains || Ch. 1

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes (Werewolf AU!)

Warnings: Nothin

Word Count: 1700+

Summary: (Werewolf-AU!Stucky x f!reader) Life had begun to overwhelm her. Work was insane and her life was a mess. There was a tug in her soul that called her to take this trip, deep into the forest away, where there was the peace and stillness of nature. She didn’t know why, but she knew she needed to listen. It was meant to be a relaxing trip, but one misstep on some moss sent her tumbling into the rapids of the flooded river. She thought she was gone and the earth decided it was time to reclaim her. She didn’t expect was to be pulled from the river nor the creature that saved her. Her entire world is turned upside down and all it took was an accidental step to the left. (18+ Only Story)

A/N: Aight, so this is one I’ve been wanting to write for a while but made myself wait until I got a few stories done. Now that’s done, I can write this! It’s gonna get spicier in later chapters, and I’m exccciittteeeed! I hope you all enjoy this new story and the wonders it’s gonna contain! Let me know what you think! Enjoy! ❤

The gifs are not mine, credit to the owner.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Series Masterlist

This wasn’t a really bright idea. She knew it. However, that didn’t stop her from packing up her car with a tent, duffle bag filled with essentials and enough food for a week or so in a bear-proof cooler. She needed a break. Things had gotten crazy at work and life was stressing her out to where she was nearing her breaking point. If she didn’t take this vacation, she’d lose her ever-loving mind.

Fortunately, her boss understood and gave her the time off she wanted. The very next day, Y/N packed her car up, let her friends know she was going to be gone without cell reception for a week or so and drove off towards the mountains and forest. There was a campsite she and her family had been to a few times before; they were more outdoorsy than her, but something was calling to her. A little voice inside of her was craving to be surrounded by nature and away from society, tugging her towards the distant mountains. She needed to unplug and unwind. And so far, the little voice hadn’t steered her wrong.

The drive was long, but it helped her being to decompress and leave the stress behind her. The closer she drove, the thicker and taller the trees began to grow. Eventually, she reached the exit her mother wrote on a sticky note. Very quickly Y/N felt a peace wash over her as she took the quiet country road towards her destination.

She checked her location on her phone and noted her service was at one bar and kept dropping, not that she minded. She was about half an hour from the turn into the reserve and still had a few hours left of daylight. Good, she’d be able to pitch the tent and get a quick dinner started before the sun began to set. Maybe she could go for a quick dip in the river nearby. It had a lovely waterfall that flowed from a spring somewhere along the mountain. It was the perfect place for her to unwind.

Half an hour later, a smile spread across Y/N’s face when she spotted the sign and entrance. The ranger at the booth at the reserve's entrance was happy to help point her in the right direction, chatting with her for a moment and explaining how things worked. She was one of the few campers there, and while she might run into one or two if she went out hiking, the campsite she requested was far enough away she didn’t have to worry about seeing people all the time. Just what she wanted. He did, however, warn her that due to a large amount of rain they were getting, the rapids in the river were quite high and fast in the area and to make sure she kept an eye on where she stepped on the soft ground beside it.

Following the directions the ranger gave, Y/N drove further into the reserve and was unable to keep herself from admiring the green around her. Living in the city meant she got very little to none of this. True there were trees here and there, but nothing like this. Parking her car in the marked spot beside the site, Y/N stepped out and took in a deep breath of the clean crisp air. No loud sirens or shouting filled in air, or the smog and dingy stale air from the city. All she heard was the sound of the trees swaying in the breeze and the happy chirps of the many birds in the canopies. The weather was supposed to be sunny and relatively cool, with a slight chance of clouds later in the week. The perfect weather for camping in the perfect setting. Yep, she thought, this was what I needed.

The unpacking took her a little longer than she thought. The tent was new, one of the dome ones big enough to fit six people. Her father bought it on sale, something about it being almost 70% off and he just had to get it. The tent was comically large for Y/N, both in height and width, but she wasn’t going to complain. She didn’t want to go out and spend an inordinate about of money for one camping trip. There’s no telling when the next time she’d get a chance to do this again. Her father was also the one that gifted her with the cooler, which he reminded her to keep in the car locked up tight at night as well as a few lanterns, a swiss army knife, plenty of matches and lighters, a few jugs of water, a camping GPS tracker, and the fishing poles Y/N doubted she’d use. But considering she had no idea what she was going to do while here, Y/N didn’t argue. Her mom wasn’t so sure about this, going out alone into the woods, but Y/N just needed to do it. That tug kept growing inside of her and the only way to make it stop was to answer the call.

The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. After the slight struggle figuring the tent out, Y/N made a quick dinner with her packed food and started getting her things ready for sleep later that night. But first, Y/N wanted to go find the waterfall with the scenic pond that turned fed the river. Going off what the ranger said, Y/N assumed the waterfall would be much larger than the last time she’d been. She had plans to go back in the morning but didn’t want to wander around trying to find it.

So lacing up her hiking boots, she snagged a flashlight in case it got darker sooner than anticipated and followed the little marked trail that led her through the woods. The trail was familiar. She hadn’t been here in a few years, and normally her parents would camp further down the river, but once she found the main trail that followed closely alongside the riverbank, Y/N knew where she was. She paused at the sight of the much higher waters, the usually calm waters roaring with life. The ranger wasn’t joking about the current. It looked like it could drag a person under and downstream before anyone had a chance to blink.

Keeping a close to the trail along the forest, away from the soft edge, Y/N walked against the stream of the river and towards where the waterfall should be. Usually, when she was alone with her thoughts, Y/N would find herself full of anxiety, constantly thinking over everything and anything that could go wrong in her busy life. She hated how her mind fought with itself, constant warring with her about this and that. Trivial meaningless things she’d have little to no control over. Yet right now, with her breathing calm and her footsteps unusually light, there wasn’t a single anxious thought insight. The forest seemed to soothe her as if a spell was cast when she stepped foot on the land.

As she began to turn a corner, Y/N heard the waterfall first. It was roaring, echoing off the mountain beside it and the rocks and trees surrounding it. She felt a little flutter of excitement as she turned the corner and gasped. What was usually gentle and slight, the waterfall was twice its size. It caused a cooling mist to form at the bottom, shrouding the little clearing. Where the water pooled was twice in size as well. She spotted the top of a rock she would usually settle on beside it nearly submerged five feet from where the water line began. Fortunately, there were still plenty of places to sit and read around the area, the waterfall loud but not overly so. It was just enough to keep her thoughts at bay in case they crept back in sometime later in the week.

As she stood there staring in awe about how quickly nature can turn from mellow and serene into an impressively dangerous beast, a strange feeling took over. At first, she couldn’t quite place it. It sort of felt like someone was watching her. Frowning, Y/N turned from the waterfall, eyeing the surrounding forest across the water.

The sun had begun to set, leaving shadows to grow under the trees. With the added combination of the mist, Y/N couldn’t make out the other side very well. But the feeling was still there, growing heavier as whatever it was watched on. It wasn’t angry or even annoyed. No, it didn’t make the hairs on the back of her neck raise. Instead, it was almost curious, watching and waiting to see what she’d do next. It made Y/N want to see who it might be, so she chanced a step towards the water. Her eyes followed the waterline, looking and searching.

A shadow moved out of the corner of her eye. It made her jump, her attention snapping towards the spot. She couldn’t have been certain, but she swore she saw a large shape through the trees. Squinting, Y/N tried to make out what it was. But a bird cried loudly behind her, startlingly loud. It caused her to jerk and jump away from the edge of the water, surprised at how close she had gotten without realizing it. She glared at the smug-looking bird that sat on a low branch staring everywhere but at her and turned back to the shoreline on the opposite side. However, the feeling and whatever ever was there was gone.

Letting out a sigh, Y/N deiced that was enough excitement for the night. She shot once more look over her shoulder before heading back towards the way she came. Shaking the strange feeling off, Y/N decided not to dwell on it. It was the first day, there was no point in worrying about something she may or may not have seen. It was just a trick of the light, she tried to reason. Either that it was another hiker who happened across the same spot as her. Yeah, she thought, that was it.

The forest was a mysterious thing. It had its secrets, both good and bad. More often than not, the visitors that would come through never saw the magic that it was made of. There were a lucky few that would see the enchanting wonders it held, whether they stumbled across it or the magic was brought to them. Then, there were the unlucky ones who could see how unforgiving mother earth could be. The trails could lead her down many different paths. It was up to her to determine which direction she would end up taking and what the Earth had decided.

NSFW Tag: (Open- MUST BE 18+, NO EXCEPTIONS)

@cherrynat / @221bshrlocked / @theapologies / @lusts-of-the-flesh / @rowencarter3 / @littlehellflame / @buckyb4rnacle / @diinofayce / @sincerelymlg / @punkrockhippiefromthefourties / @slytherinlifeislove / @moderapoppins / @nirinael-the-rising-demon / @girlwhoisfearless / @whatisanniedoin / @xxashy999xx / @cinema212 / @sergeantjbuckybarnes / @lokigodofsasss / @myforeveryoungblog / @serpentbaby / @palaiasaurus64 / @electra-hxart / @libbymouse / @disaster-rose /

Call Of The Mountains Tag List : (CLOSED)

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supernaturalee · 4 years

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Green and Gold: Part 2 - Gwilym Lee x Reader

Pairings: Widow/Single Father! Gwilym Lee x Reader

Warnings: Some swearing, Mentions of X rated thoughts, and more KAREN

Word Count: 4.4k

Previous Parts: One

Summary: When Gwilym lost his wife two years ago he feared raising his daughter alone in a small coastal New Jersey town would be difficult. In the two years since her death, Gwil and Brianne are finally ready to start moving on. Following the words of a child psychologist, Gwil signs Bri up for cheerleading with the local youth squad, something Gwil knows nothing about. As he is thrust in the world of cheer bows and back handsprings, he will learn it takes a lot more than green and gold uniforms to mend his and his daughter’s hearts. Hopefully through the squad they will find strength, friendship, and possibly a spark of new love for the widow himself.

Taglist:@the-baby-bookworm @ixchel-9275 @slutforbritdick @kurt-nightcrawler @radio-hoo-ha @imgonnabeyourslave @queendeakyy @girllety @im-an-adult-ish @what-wicked-delights @drivenbybri

Author’s Note: It’s almost 2 am EST and I thought to myself, why not post part two. We are getting into meat of the story here, y’all! Again, this update is late, but my writing was hard to come by for a while. So without further ado, he is part 2 of Green & Gold. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in future installments.

In the four short weeks since Brianne had started cheerleading practice, Gwilym had come to learn three absolute truths. First being that cheer made Bri happier than Gwil had ever hoped. In the time since that first practice, he had seen her smile more than he had seen since before Angela had passed away. Her eyes lit up now whenever she spoke about how the routine was coming along or how she was learning all of these different things. Such as stunts or new tumbling passages or jumps that had odd names like toe touches, herkies, and pikes. While Gwilym cooked dinner or checked over her homework, he could always hear her routine music coming from the stereo in the living room. Once he got her to wash her hands and then settled at the table. It would become Gwilym’s inquiry into the world of cheerleading and Brianne was more than happy to oblige his many questions.

Bri had taken to cheering like a fish takes to water. It was in her blood, Angela’s cheerleading history flowing through Brianne’s veins now. It made Gwil so happy. She spent three nights a week on the mat now and Saturday during the day at either the home field or away fields cheering on the young football players. The football team’s age coincided with the cheerleaders of Bri's team’s ages. Or the Mustang Pee Wees as Gwil had learned. He had finally found out the difference between the game cheers and the competition cheer as Bri had once told him. He usually sat in the game bleachers trying to decipher how American football was more popular than actual football. Or as Y/N lovingly reminded him every time he complained, “It’s soccer here.” she would say with a smile. At first he thought it was kind of annoying but now anytime she reminded him, he found it endearing. The way her lips curled up in a smile as she said it, he found himself mesmerized by it.

When Brianne wasn’t cheering and once her homework was done, she could be found hanging out with her new friends Jasmine, Joey, and Selma. The carpool Y/N had promised had been fruitful for Brianne and Gwilym on the friendship front. They had been the type of cheer parents Gwilym had hoped for and luckily he got in with them instead of the others. That was the second absolute truth he learned that, cheer parents were absolutely bonkers bananas insane. Karen Diguimi was just the tip of the massive iceberg that was the “Stepford Stangs” as Joe lovingly coined them. Gwil had now become a member of the mailing list. A dreaded place to be that he wouldn’t have agreed to had he known what a nightmare it truly was.

He had now started to receive daily emails with updates on fundraising and how close they were to the nice buses. Game schedules, rule changes, and low fat recipes to keep your little cheerleader in proper cheering shape were among the other important articles. Plus little snide comments on the surrounding towns’ teams and how far superior the Mustangs were to them. It was like a tabloid magazine that Gwil now had a daily subscription too.

Y/N had sent him a long paragraph text about the low carb recipes and how dare the “Stepford Stangs” imply that only certain shaped children could be cheerleaders. ‘It is the middle of October and they are nine and ten years old. WHY DO THEY HAVE TO BE SWIMSUIT READY?! Gwil, you will have to stop me from strangling Karen at the next practice.’ It made Gwilym feel a swell of pride for a moment that he read her text. It caused the return of a certain set of emotions. These feelings that he was feeling were something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Often he would check over the email for that week’s game schedule then file the email away. His new gang of misfit parents would mock the over ridiculous links in the emails or the fact that they received a new one every day. Joe always sent a meme or two about them, while Rami commented on the complete lack of email etiquette. ‘It’s too many emails and too many people hit Reply All instead of reply. It is chaotic!’ Rami had sent in their group chat. ‘I think its nice to keep us informed with the same information that we knew yesterday.’ Lucy had added. Gwil finally being able to put a face to the name as he met Rami’s other half at the first football game of the year. She was blonde, slim, and in a way almost fairy like. Her movements were graceful but she had this hidden strength to her. Rami and Lucy complimented each other well. Rami was a computer engineer, who like Gwil, could do most of his work from home. Lucy, on the other hand, was a certified midwife and a nurse at the local OBGYN. Often traveling between the hospital and the doctor office. Their schedules mostly allow for their twin girls’ busy sports schedules to work. Joe ran an accounting firm but swore he was bad at math. He stated he liked the business but preferred leaving the accounting to his dedicated small team of accountants.

Finally, the third absolute truth that Gwilym Lee knew was that Wednesday nights were now his favorite night of the week. It was the only night parents were allowed to stay for the whole practice. This meant about two hours of watching Bri have the most fun and grow into an even stronger, more beautiful young woman. It also meant getting to spend time with his new friends including Y/N. Y/N had quickly become Gwil’s confidant in all things cheer related. Any question or need he had, she had the answer and was always there with a smile. It was just another reason why Gwil was now harboring a crush on this woman. He and Bri had not seen her coming. He thought he would scrap by with googled information and keep his head down. He would be quiet and lonely, knowing just enough to get by.

Yet there was Y/N with her intelligence, her helping hand, and her kind heart. Bri also loved her and Jasmine. She was treated with so much love, respect, and care by Y/N. Gwil found it hard to keep himself from melting every time he was in her gaze. He felt like a teenage boy with a crush. He had confided in Ben who told him to get back on the horse. However, to Gwil, the horse was a twenty foot tall bear that was very hungry. Angela was still on his mind, in his life, in his heart. He saw her every day in the brown eyes of his daughter. He feared that any new relationship he would start would be doomed to be branded as the rebound relationship for the man with the dead wife. Even if he found someone, they had to pass the most important test in his book, being well loved by the most important person in his life, Brianne. He shook away the heavy thoughts as the red light turned green. He pressed his foot on the gas as he continued the drive to practice. Bri and Jasmine chatting in the back of his car.

Y/N had asked him to pick Jasmine up from school and drive her to practice. Y/N had a meeting with the college board about one of her students. She would meet them at the cheer gym later. Gwil’s mind couldn’t help but wander to Y/N. He hoped her meeting went well. He knew in just the short few weeks of knowing her that her job meant a tremendous amount to her. Professor Y/L/N had a very nice ring to it. His mind wandering further to dirtier thoughts. If they were ever to be together would she let him play the teacher's pet. His fantasy slowly took form in his head when Bri’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“Dad?” No answer came from the driver’s seat. “Earth to dad. Father?” She laughed. Gwil pushed all X rated thoughts from his mind and looked to the rear view.

“Hmm?” He answered, putting on a small smile to show her that he has really been paying attention the whole time.

“Could Jasmine and Ms. Y/L/N come to dinner with us?” Bri asked sweetly. The two had joined them for dinner every Wednesday night since that first practice.

“Please Mr. Lee!” Jasmine used the same sweet voice. Gwil rubbed his jaw with his free hand as the two girls started repeating the world please.

“Please please please please please please please please please please please please please!” Bri and Jasmine begged together. Gwilym laughed, smiling.

“It is fine with me but we will have to ask your aunt, Jasmine, when we see her.” He said. Both girls cheered happily as they looked at each other.

“Of course Mr. Lee!” Jasmine smiled. “Aunt Y/N likes getting dinner with you and Bri.” Jasmine said. Gwil felt his cheeks heat up for a moment. This came as a surprise to him in a way. Sure he knew she cared about their friendship but maybe this meant she also felt something more for him. He quickly pushed this thought away, no it wasn’t a good time for him to get into a new relationship. I’m not ready. His thoughts continued his mantra.

“Well we like having dinner with both of you as well, dear.” He answered her. Jasmine’s smile grew. She was a wonderful little girl who Gwilym had grown to care for. She didn’t know what she was doing for Brianne, but Gwil did and how it helped her improve immensely. He had known his daughter had tried to hide her sadness from him. It was something she tried to do to prove she was strong like Angela but she didn’t need to. Gwil and her grandparents knew that Brianne had every ounce of Angela’s strength tenfold.

As he pulled into the parking lot of the cheer gym he saw Y/N’s Jeep had not yet arrived. He also didn’t see Joe’s or Rami’s cars either which meant he would be alone. He would most likely have to face yet another conversation with Karen. Or he could just hide out in his car until his friends arrived. He shook his head for a moment, he had to go inside, he could handle this. As both young girls made their way inside, Gwil followed behind them making sure both safely got in the building.

He signed both in at the desk where the young man who Gwil had learned was one of the coaches’ sons sat. He gave the teenaged boy a wave before moving to his usual spot in the bleachers. He had settled into the groove of sitting with everyone, Gwil sat on a lower bench due to his height, while Y/N sat on the bleacher bench above him so she could make eye contact easier. Rami would sit above her and then Joe would sit beside her, the four almost making a little diamond of security. His blue eyes looked around the room before he spotted her.

Karen was talking to some of the other team parents, her eyes scanning the room for him. He dropped his head down trying to hide himself from her.

“Oh Gwilym!” She exclaimed, moving to him. Gwil sat up straight, damn he had been caught. He politely smiled and nodded. Please don’t come over, please don’t come over, please don’t come over… He repeated in his head, it was too little too late. She made her way over to his place of peace and quiet.

“Hello Mrs. Digumi.” He said politely. Her smile grew. Damn, his British charm. She stood in front of him.

“Please call me Karen.” She smiled still. “I wanted to ask how everything was going with Brianne. She is quite the little cheerleader. One of the best on the squad. Almost as good as my little McKenna.”

“Thank you. I will tell her that later. She certainly seems to be enjoying it and that makes me happy.” He said honestly, maybe he was wrong about Karen.

“You should have her over for a play date with my McKenna. You and I can exchange parenting tips or tips of some other kind.” She batted her heavily mascaraed eyes at him. He gulped softly.

“I will have to talk to Bri about it and get back to you Mrs. Dig-Karen.” He corrected himself.

“I am just saying Brianne seems like a very sweet girl and you don’t want her to get in with the wrong crowd before middle school. Popularity is key and my little McKenna is going to be one of the most popular girls in school. Just like I was. If Brianne settles herself with the likes of those children, her social life is over and I don’t want that for her or for you. Popularity is everything.” She said as she sat next to him. No, he wasn’t wrong about Karen.

Wrong crowd? What the hell, they are children not teenagers. He thought to himself before defending the children of his friends. Popularity is everything. What a bunch of bullocks.

“Jasmine, Joey, and Selma are good kids. They are smart, fun, courteous, kind and they are Bri’s friends. They were the first ones to welcome her with open arms,” He said. Gwil was a bit taken aback that a grown woman would say something like that about ten year olds. If Bri and Jasmine weren’t on the mat about 50 feet away, he would have forgotten his manners and let Karen have it.

“I don’t appreciate you talking that way about my friends’ children or about your child’s fellow teammates.” He continued, his tone was serious and sharp. Her eyes went wide as she heard the manner in which he spoke.

“Oh! I didn’t mean the kids! I meant, um, the parents.” She was quick to backtrack and try to fix her mistake. Her chance with the Welsh man slipping away. “Gwilly, you are new to all of this. I should have specified that I meant that if Brianne settles herself with the likes of the parents of those children, her social life is over. You both deserve so much but you are still so naive, honey.”

“My name is Gwilym.” He stated. She had called him Gwilly, a nickname that Angela would lovingly call him after a few glasses of wine. How dare this woman even try to put herself in the same realm of love as his wife.

“I am so sorry honey.” She smiled to try to cover up the large hole she had dug for herself. “Like I was saying to you that first practice those parents you have chosen to bond with don’t understand the mustang way.” It was clear to Gwilym that Karen intended to keep digging. “Especially Y/N, I mean she likes to pretend she was a good cheerleader because she was once a national champion herself. But she was the worst one of that team, I should know, I did date her brother.” Karen said as jealousy slipped between each word. It was clear to her that Gwilym cared more for Y/N than he would ever care for her. “They carried her to the gold medal and she got the recognition for it like everyone else. Even made her brother break up with me, how dare she. That bitch.” That was the final straw for him.

“I am going to stop you right there, Mrs. Diguimi. I do not want to hear you ever bad mouth my friends or their children. Please understand I am friendly with you because I have to be. You are the team mom and I do not really like having issues with anyone. However, my daughter is the only reason I am here. Y/N, Joe, Lucy and Rami plus their amazing children came as an incredible bonus to all of this. You did not.” He said calmly. “Now please step away from me and know, this is the last conversation we will have that is not about fundraising or cheering information. I do not take kindly to people belittling others or their children for their own personal benefit. Thank you and have a good night.”

Karen let out a breath of air through her nose, standing up quickly. Moving from the bleachers, staring him down.

“Oh I understand.” Her voice dripped with sweetly sickening venom. “If you ever change your mind I am right over there with the good parents.” She moved to the other waiting ‘Stepford Stangs’. Gwil let out a long breath as a smile appeared on his lips. God, how good it felt to let her have it and god how he wished Y/N had seen him. She would be so proud once he told her. It was the sudden sound of two voices that drew him away from his fantasy.

“I see you are on the list now.” Rami said as he and Joe joined Gwilym in the bleachers.

“List?” He asked, tilting his head curiously.

“I’ll let Joe explain.” Rami smiled.

“It is Karen Diguimi’s way of saying you are cancelled until you apologize.” Joe smirked. “We just caught the tail end of what you were saying but from what we heard, it was fucking brilliant.” He said quietly enough for just the three men to hear. “Welcome to the list. I have been on it since the ‘I won’t let my underage child wash stranger’s cars in the shortest shorts debacle of last summer season.” Joe said.

“Rami, how did you end up on the list? It seems like she likes you the most out of all of us.” Gwil asked. Rami chuckled.

“I once asked her if the pom poms for adults were necessary at a competition because it was just one extra thing to carry.”

“That’s not too bad.”

“She also hates my wife.”

“Ah, I see.”

“So we both reside on the list with Joe and Y/N.”

“What did Y/N do to get on the list?”

“What hasn’t she done to get on the list?” Joe laughed. “First it was being Dominic Y/L/N’s little sister during high school. Then it was becoming Jasmine’s key guardian when he died, then it was a few other arbitrary things I don’t remember, but most recently, it was getting you to be our friend instead of hers.” Joe said.

“It’s a rite of passage to get on the list.” Rami said. All three men laughed as Gwil felt more at peace than ever before. Even though Karen had basically verbally bashed children in front of him and badmouthed Y/N, she did provide one key piece of vital information. Y/N as a former national champion for the Mustangs, maybe even on the same squad as his late wife. He marked it in his brain to ask her later.

As practice started and the three men continued their conversation, still no Y/N. Part of Gwilym began to worry that something bad had happened. He checked his phone to see if she had called or texted but nothing. He tried to push the worry to the back of his mind as Joe began to talk about the upcoming competition this weekend. It was the same thing Bri had not stopped talking about for the past week. Even as he got her and Jasmine into the car today, they talked about their nervous excitement for it.

Joe was going to ride up with Rami and Lucy. Figuring Gwil would want to carpool with Y/N. Actually all three of them, Joe, Rami, and Lucy, hoped something would blossom between the two.

“Oh I hadn’t even thought to ask her. It is probably too late, I will just drive up myself.” He said he was a bit disappointed he hadn’t asked.

“She’ll say yes if you do ask.” Rami smled.

“She might not.” Gwil continued.

“Oh no, she will definitely say yes.” Joe smiled slyly. Both men looked at each like they both held the same secret that Gwil wasn’t privy to. It was at that moment Y/N moved into the gym still in her work clothes. Her blazer that was once covering the purple silk blouse, was replaced by a jean jacket. She wore black slacks and black vans.

“I don’t drive in heels, I don’t want to be responsible for that many lives.” She had told him their first Wednesday night dinner out with the girls. He knew that she kept a pair of black lace up vans in her Jeep for the drive home from the university.

“Speak of the Devil and she shall appear.” Joe teased her as she sat in her usual spot. She laughed and Gwil’s heart skyrocketed into flight.

“Ha ha. Good to see you, Mozzarella.” She snarked.

“That’s Mr. Mozzarella to you.” Joe answered. Both tossing their heads back gently and laughed. There went Gwil’s pulse racing for a moment.

“Did I miss anything?”

“Gwil’s on the list.”

“No!”

“Oh hell yeah!”

“How? Tell me! I have to know how Karen’s little lust for you somehow got you on the list.”

“Karen’s little what?” Gwil said.

“Dude, she wanted to bone you.” Joe said. “Hard.”

“Bone?” He asked.

“Sleep with you, knock boots, cherry pick, dude I know too analogies for sex.”

“She’s married!” Gwil exclaimed quietly to the group.

“Hasn’t stopped her before.” Y/N said. “Anyway, tell me how you got on the list.”

Gwilym began to tell the story of her confrontation with Karen. His own smile grew as he watched Y/N’s own smile grow as he got to the words match.

“Mr. Lee you are bloody brilliant.” She said, her hand rubbed his arm for a moment before she withdrew it. Gwil blushed.

“It was nothing.”

“This is cause for celebration. You being on the list. We will all go out kid free and celebrate soon.” Joe said.

“Sounds good to me.” Rami agreed. Y/N nodded, her eyes looking up and waving to Jasmine as the girl waved back.

“Hey Y/N, did you know Gwilym here was going to drive to Trenton all alone?” Joe stated. Gwil’s eyes went wide as he looked at the man over Y/N’s shoulder. He felt his cheeks heat up.

“Really?” She asked.

“Yeah. He was going to drive by himself.”

“Why don’t you ride with me? It isn’t as long as a drive if you have a partner.” She offered him. Her Y/E/C eyes meeting his blue. A small smile on her lips.

“Um, you won’t mind?” He asked shyly.

“No, it will be a treat to spend time with you alone.” She said honestly, all the room felt almost like it was silent around them. Joe and Rami watching the two just share prolonged eye contact. Gwil could almost swear there was a light pink tinge on her cheeks as well.

“Then it's all set. I’d love to ride with you.” He smiled. The tinge got a bit darker.

Joe poked his head between the two, “Is your, um, neighbor coming?” He asked her. His voice was almost giddy, like Gwil’s when he talked about Y/N on the phone to Ben. Who was this woman that was making Joe act like the same lovestruck teenager he was?

“Oh no. Unfortunately, Jolene had one of her advanced painting classes rescheduled to Saturday. It is too much money to miss out on but she promised Jasmine she was coming to Regionals.” Y/N said as she raked her hair up into a messy ponytail.

“Oh.” Joe’s smile faded quickly.

“You know you could just ask her out. She likes you too.” Y/N patted her friend’s shoulder. Joe shook his head.

“The divorce is still too fresh to Joey. It wouldn’t be fair to him for me to get involved with someone new so soon after his mother and I split up.” Joe admitted. Gwilym understood that point. A divorce was a similar loss to a child as a parent passing. Everything became different over night for them, changing so suddenly. Joe and his ex were friendly enough to a point for the sake of their son. The one thing that will keep them forever linked.

“Okay honey. One day though, Joey is just going to want his dad to be happy.” She said with a soft smile to their friend. Joe just nodded looking over at his son.

How Karen could ever call this wonderful woman a bitch was past Gwilym’s arena of thought. He looked at Y/N and smiled. God how beautiful she is even in the lighting of this gym. He thought to himself. As more time passed for the practice, the three experienced cheer parents told Gwilym everything he would need to know to be ready for Saturday. How he would have to have Brianne ready before 6 am to get her to the gym so that the team could take a bus together to the arena before driving there with Y/N. He would have to make sure he paced enough bobby pins, snacks, water, everything. His worry level that he would mess this all up grew. Especially the idea that he would have to do her hair in a high slick back ponytail. Brianne had hair like her mom’s thick and wavy, he could barely get it into braids without at least three Youtube tutorials.

“How about this? I bring Jasmine over at like 5. I can do both of their hair and you can make sure they have enough snacks?” Y/N offered, once again being the incredible person that she was.

“Please. I fear what I would do to my poor girl’s head.” He said honestly.

“I think you would be fine, but the first competition is the scariest for both the parent and the cheerleader.”

“It will put not only my mind at rest but Bri’s mind too. Thank you Y/N.”

“Anything for you, Gwil.” She smiled. “Oh and um, thanks for standing up for the kids earlier with Karen. She can talk all the crap she wants about me but Jasmine doesn’t deserve that. It means a lot to me and it shows me how wonderful of a human being you are.” She said before turning her attention back to the mat. His heart raced again. God, Wednesday nights really were his favorite.

#green and gold #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym x reader #gwilym lee imagines #gwilym lee #bohemian rhapsody #midsomer murders #Lucy Boynton #rami malek #joe mazzello #ben hardy

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kirishwima · 4 years

Note

Heya! If it ain't too much trouble (if your inbox isn't too full) could I get headcanons about the RFA's (plus saeran, if you'd be willing to write for him too) reaction to a 17 y/o MC? Platonic headcanons of course ^^ Your content for mystic messenger is truly great from what I've read so far! Thanks a lot ❤

awe thank you, i really appreciate that! i honestly only have a couple more prompts in my inbox currently, so im grateful for any and all you send my way! (even if there were a lot i really enjoy writing them so i don’t mind at all~)

ZEN:

* He’s so shocked???

* being well, Zen, he immediatly tried flirting with the new person in the RFA, only to immediatly be told by Seven that they’re 17

* Immediatly assumes a Big Brother Role and loves it

* He’s always defending MC, and telling them to let him know if any of the other members make them nervous, calls them frequently and if they’re in high school, checks on them and reminds them to eat and take breaks between studying

* Honestly he’s always wanted to be a big brother so he loves it lol, and he’ll be especially protective of MC from Jumin, constantly telling them to never grow up to be like him

* Will absoloutely let MC call him and vent about whatever is troubling them-as someone who was as troubled as he was at 17, he wants to make MC’s final teenage years as happy as possible wherever he’s able to

* Will Absoloutely interrogate whoever MC decides to date and treat them like a protective father lmao

YOOSUNG:

* Equally shocked, he would never expect someone so young to have to take on the big job Rika once had!

* Honestly he doesn’t care much about MC’s age, although he does feel a little threatened at first-he used to be the baby of the RFA, and whilst he would constantly complain about it, he did like the attention it brought him

* When at some point MC asks him for any advice and thanks them for it, he does feel a sudden surge of pride-he’s an only child and never really interacted much with people younger than him

* He’s the youngest so he still remembers what being 17 was like, and how overwhelming things could be, especially if MC’s in school

* He’ll do his best to help MC study, even meeting up with them and tutoring them-if their marks improve after it or it helps them in any way, he’ll be so excited!

* Will also become really protective of MC, and might even argue with Zen over who MC’s big brother is (hint-it’s neither of you y’all are like, in your early 20s chill)

* Just overall happy to have another friend in the RFA really

JUMIN:

* He...doesn’t....care?

* He’s surprised that V allowed someone so young to just, live in Rika’s apartment and take over her job, but he doesn’t really question it. After all, when he was 17 he was already pretty much running the company alongside his father.

* He’s as cold and aloof as always, although he’s confused as to why Zen becomes so protective and even more furstrated with Jumin than usual. Has he said anything to offend MC in anyway?

* He eventually calls MC and asks if they’re finding everything in the RFA allright, or if they need any help, and after getting to talk with them, sees why the whole of the RFA has taken such a liking to them-MC reminds them all of who they once were at that age.

* It’s not like anything drastically changes in his behavior-he’s still thankful that MC is doing their new job properly, but he’s careful to not overwhelm them with tasks, and frequently will ask if they need any help. He also insists that they should return to their home as soon as possible so as to not worry their family or care giver.

* If MC is a student, he’ll offer to hire one of the best tutors for them, even if they don’t need it-he considers it only natural to receive as many educational opprotunities as possible

((No Jumin, not everyone has had tutors during their high shcool years. Yes it’s doable pls stop nagging Zen about it))

* Yeah, overall he’s just the same as always lmao

JAEHEE:

* She’s actually really concerned when she finds out MC is only 17. How did V ever think that it’s alright to put someone so young into a predicament like this?!

* Will frequently call MC and check in with them, see if everything’s all right, if they need anything e.t.c

* She just really wants them to be comfortable in the RFA-not only does she remember how hard it was for her to adjust after joining, she can’t imagine how hard it is to be thrown into this situation at this age. She genially wants MC to be happy

* Might come off as a bit of a mother hen at first-even the rest of the RFA tell her she doesn’t have to keep worrying over MC so much, after all they’ve proved they’re a responsible person and can take care of themselves

((Take care of-THEY’RE A BABY she screams to deaf ears))

* She does however, realise that everyone else is right-MC is diligently doing their job, and seem to have their shit together. That however doesn’t stop her from watching over MC regardless.

* If MC tells her that they look up to her like a big sister, she’ll smile the softest little smile, happy that MC feels like they’re family

* after all, that’s what she too secretly hoped to receive from the RFA-the family she never had.

SEVEN:

* Obviously, with a quick search he found out MC’s age

* He’s concerned, yeah, but he’s also never really had a normal childhood ((understatement of the century)) and can’t really be certain wether it’s normal for MC to be in the situation they are at this age or not

* More or less he treats them exactly the same-he’s as concerned as he’d be for an MC of any other age really

* He does however constantly tease them about their age-he’ll say something along the lines of ‘back in MY day’ or ‘when i was your age...’ at least once per each chatroom lmao

* When/If he comes to Rika’s apartment to protect MC, he’ll be distant at first, but not as much as he’d be with an adult MC-he remembers what it’s like to be alone at that age, remembers how much he despised it-he can’t help but be a little more lenient with them. He’ll still try to push them away, alert them of the dangers of associating with him, but he’ll also constantly hover over MC, have them tell him about their troubles, making sure they eat e.t.c.

* P much just acting like an annoying big brother lmao

V/JIHYUN:

* As soon as he found out that MC’s only 17, he became insanely concerned.

* What was Rika thinking?! Why would they put such a young person in such danger?!

* He’s so worried, he can’t help but frequently log in to the messenger and call MC to make sure they’re alright and as safe as they can be.

* He’s taken care of Saeran and Saeyoung as young teens, so he’s probably the one to treat MC the most normally than any of the other RFA members. He’s patient and sweet with them, treating them like a mature person but also mindful of their age at the same time

* He finds it sweet how the rest of the RFA cares so much about MC-it brings him peace to know that no matter what, RFA will have their back.

* If they’re a student he’ll also try and help them study, mainly with more theoretical subjects like history, art e.t.c. He’s also frequently reminding them to take breaks and rest, that their mental and physical health will always be more important than schoolwork.

* Would honestly feel more like a doting dad than a big brother, he’s pretty much a perfect parental figure lmao

SAERAN:

* Of course he knew MC was 17, since he’s the one that brought them into the RFA in the first place

* Their age didn’t really have anything to do with why he chose them; he just did as he savior told him to and chose the person most suitable for the job

* He’s reminded of MC’s age through the little things-monitoring the RFA chatrooms and seeing how the members treat MC, how they’ll frequently talk about their schoolwork or daily life matters, little things that kept piling up in Saeran’s consiousness

* When he’s finally free from Rika’s grip and has a clearer view on things, guilt eats him up from the inside out at the fact that he put a person this young through such an ordeal-it’d be bad enough for anyone, but a person who’s not even an adult?!

* He’s reminded of the horrors he went through when he was young, the mess he’d been in when he was 17-it makes his stomach churn, to think he’s put another person through such horrors

* It’ll take a lot from MC to not only forgive him, but also help him understand it’s not his fault-he was genially not in control during those times, and his guilt proves that.

* He’ll try and avoid MC at first, but if they keep pushing, he’ll eventually open up and befriend them.

* He’s genially happy to see MC forgive and slowly forget about the whole Mint Eye ordeal, to slowly return to their everyday life, almost as if he’s seeing what he’s missed out during that age through them; it brings a bittwersweet feeling to his chest, to see what could’ve been.

* He’s not really a big-brother type-but he is a fiercly loyal friend, and he’ll be there for MC through thick and thin, and god have mercy on whoever dares try and hurt MC-hell hath no fury like an angry Saeran.

I’m sorry these were quite short, i really couldn’t think of much else T-T regardless of MC’s age, the whole RFA gang would care for them as a friend and family!

-Send me headcanons/scenarios for mystic messenger characters’ reactions!-

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joaquinwhorres · 4 years

Text

The Fool (Ch. 2) {Fred Weasley x F!OC}

SUMMARY ››››› After getting tangled up with the Weasley Twins during the events of the Quidditch World Cup, Wren Collings’ life takes a turn for the chaotic. It threatens everything she has going for her, but she’s not convinced that’s entirely a bad thing.

PAIRING ››››› Fred Weasley x Female OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 7,000-ish

WARNINGS ››››› There is no depression or mental health issues in this story, but there are mentions of death, violence, abuse, some PTSD, etc. As most of the specific warnings revolve around major plot points or are found throughout most chapters, I’m just going to rate certain chapters on the movie scale. This is chapter PG-13.

A/N ››››› This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Emma. You KNOW why.

Series Masterlist | Read on ff.net

Wren wasn’t sure who was right, if it was Simon or the cards or her gut feeling about this year: all she knew for sure was that NEWT classes, and not the Triwizard Tournament, would be the death of her.

The last part was a bit of a disappointment, not so much that she wanted to die in a blaze of glory, but she would have at least liked the chance. Sadly, her June birthday saw to the fact that she would be a supporter and not a competitor.

Her small silver lining (more dull grey than a true silver) was that it was one less thing to worry about on top of her classes. McGonagall’s warning when passing over her time table that this year would have a “demanding workload” was apparently code for “grueling affair with death itself.”

Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed fixated on killing her through the traditional means of excessive school work, but the rest seemed to approach her death in a more “hands on” manner.

Herbology seemed intent on strangulation as Professor Sprout has decided to begin with snargaluffs and venomous tentacula. Dodging the slippery and spiky spines soon became second nature.

Hagrid has decided to introduce them to, if not venomous, exceedingly dangerous animals. Currently the class was in the process of telling jokes to Fwoopers as an alternative method to the silencing charm. Leave it to Hagrid to find out that they just click their beak when laughing. Of course, the untraditional method had already put Kenneth Towler and Amina Qureshi into the hospital wing to treat their minor insanity. But, all things considered it was a nice reprieve.

For its part, Potions had started off the year with poisons and their antidotes, which while extremely fascinating was somewhat nerve racking. Wren was fairly certain that at some point Snape would attempt to poison her as the lone Gryffindor in NEWT level potions. That minor fear, in addition to her particular love for the magic, drove her to devoting most of her studying hours to the class.

Which seemed to come in handy now as Snape began to pass out his unannounced quiz to the class. To Wren's surprise and mild relief, it was not a practical quiz but instead a written one. She assumed this was in an attempt to catch out students with trick questions which could otherwise be avoided as long as their potions worked.

In fact, as Wren reached question four, she was sure of it:

I am called in to the Hospital Wing once again because a careless Herbology student has failed to properly cork the juice of a Venomous Tentacula and has gotten some on their skin. What condition do I find him in, and how will I cure it?

She remembered this one as it had been a precaution Professor Sprout had failed to give them. She had simply instructed them not to let any get on their skin, and it was only in potions that Snape had revealed why. It had been more of a side comment in his lecture antidotes for the plant's other means of attack: bite, spike, and venom.

The student will be a bright shade of purple, and depending on how much juice he has come in contact with, complain of a faint burning sensation. The student should also feel quite embarrassed about their negligence. No antidote is truly needed except time which will hopefully make them more careful. Should you choose to cure them, however, the quickest effective cure would be a tincture of muddled fluxweed, shredded boomslang skin, and leech juice. The student will be extremely pale instead for a few days, but it might be preferable to the purple colour.

Wren reread her answer and felt that all loopholes were closed before she moved on to the next question.

A student suddenly collapses in the middle of class during last hour and slowly turns to stone. She has come into contact with no plants or creatures and eaten and drank of nothing since lunch. What were they poisoned with and what is the antidote?

Wren twirled her quill in her hands. Come into contact with nothing but suddenly turned into stone. They could have seen a basilisk? No, that only petrified people, it didn't turn them into stone. Could they have a Gorgon run into their class? Unlikely unless the student was in the Grecian Isles. And that was a sudden turning. This student slowly turned into stone.

It hit her, thinking of islands. Naghinbato Brew.

The student was likely dosed with Naghinbato Brew during their lunch. This poison is undetectable aside from its slight tang and it takes approximately four hours to begin affecting the person poisoned. If the student was lucky enough to fall over with her mouth open, a Wiggenweld potion with some Mandrake roots brewed in after the salamander's blood would reverse the effects. If not, an Adarna must be brought in to sing the student awake.

The remainder of the questions proved to be more and more tricky so that by the end Wren hoped for nothing but essays and practical exams for the rest of the year. The wording of each question proved difficult to navigate and at the end as she packed up her bag to leave for Defense Against the Dark Arts, she found herself casting a look at Snape who had begun to grade the quizzes and looked very much like he had just smelled something unpleasant.

Wren turned and headed out the door, eager to put the past hour behind her.

"Hey, Wren." Quick footsteps caught up to her as Cedric appeared to her left. As the only Hufflepuff in Potions, the pair had taken to sitting together as the sole representatives of their respective houses. Wren had to admit, she hadn't expected to see him on the first day of class. Nora had always claimed he was brilliant, but it had never quite shown through in any of the classes they had together. "How do you think it went?" Cedric asked, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

Wren shook her head. "I don't know. Has he even taught us any antidotes involving the dirt of a child's grave? Or was that just a veiled threat?"

Cedric chuckled. "They use it against Amnetias."

"Of course," Wren moaned.

"What combination of poisons did you list as the components for that last one. I got Angel's Trumpet Draught but what caused the vertigo?

"I said Syrup of Hellebore."

Cedric winced. "Missed that one."

"Your antidote could still work," Wren shrugged, making her way up the stairs as Cedric walked behind her. The two of them pressed close to the walls as a flood of nervous looking Hufflepuff first-years descended down the stairs. Poor kids.

"Not likely," Cedric said. "I used a creature-based remedy for the vertigo."

"Ah well," Wren sighed. "At least we'll all get D's together." Cedric laughed at this and they continued the rest of the way up. The two exited the stairwell, heading towards the classroom that had been the talk of the school recently.

Quite frankly, Dumbledore should have hired an ex-Auror much sooner. Professor Lupin had been good--loads better than Lockhart or Quirrell, or Merlin-forbid, the ghoulish woman Wren had her first year--but Moody, he had lived this. His very first lesson for all of the students 4th through 6th year had been showing the Unforgiveable Curses. Today they were supposed to be practicing resisting the Imperius Curse. This was real education.

Wren entered the classroom, peeling off from Cedric who walked over towards where Nora was sitting with their other Hufflepuff friends. Instead Wren sat at the desk across the aisle from her dorm mates-- Angelina and Alicia.

It was pitiful how quickly Wren had given into the Imperius Curse.

Unsurprisingly, Fred Weasley had been the longest hold out, beating George by a full twenty seconds. Wren suspected it had something to do with their natural inclination to ignore any given directive, but Lee Jordan hadn't done as well as Angelina, and she was by far the most rule-abiding in their friend group.

Wren spent a good portion of the rest of her week practising fortifying herself against being Imperiused so as not to embarrass herself the next lesson.

Her timing wasn't much better.

She largely chalked this up to mental exhaustion after the previous afternoon's brutal double Potions lesson. Snape had clearly been seeking retribution for the class's quiz scores. While Wren had managed to earn an E on hers, it seemed the rest of the class had not been so careful reading the questions if Snape's rant about their inattention to the finer details and nuances of potion making was any indication.

So, after that lesson on Wednesday, being Imperiused on Thursday, and failing to to transfigure her raccoon on Friday, Wren felt completely spent and ill prepared for the mountain of homework awaiting her this weekend.

"I'm not going to survive NEWT classes," Wren griped, laying her head down on her arm and giving her eyes a rest from her Charms textbook, instead gazing at a sideways Simon who looked up at her from across the table.

"You're not going to die," he shook his head, returning his eyes to his parchment. "Nora didn't read it in your cards."

Wren rolled her eyes at the sarcastic joke and propped her head back up on her palm. She might have been more annoyed at the lack of sympathy if it weren't for the fact that she brought up how busy and stressed she was each time he saw her. It was a miracle he put up with her, really. She doubted anyone else would.

"You're right," she agreed. "But, a study break couldn't hurt. We've got ten minutes 'til dinner. Plenty of time to pack up and go to our corner..." She dropped her hand and leaned towards him. Simon looked up from his work again, this time giving her a small smile as he came forward and kissed her gently and far, far too briefly. He sat back into his chair, leaving Wren hovering over the center of the table.

"I wish we could," he sighed, picking up his quill. "Truly." His eyes raked down her face to the opening of her blouse. Wren's face heated up, and she returned to her chair. "But I have to get this done. My weekend's packed as is, and they rescheduled Wizard's Chess Club to tonight so I already have less time than usual."

Wren pouted "I know," she said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I just miss you is all. I haven't seen you all week."

It hadn't been that either of them was avoiding the other--this year it just seemed like their time tables filled up too quickly with barely enough room to squeeze in each other. Each of their classes seemed to meet at opposite times so they never had a free period together. Time after dinner was largely devoted to clubs, homework, studying, and prefect duties with the weekends looking largely the same with the addition of Simon's commitments to his Ravenclaw friends and tutoring of younger students. The only small bit of time they had together during the week was the hour right before dinner on Fridays.

"Wren," Simon said, his voice taking on a slight edge. "I'm doing my best, ok?"

Wren's cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. She hadn't meant to insinuate that he wasn't. She wanted to whine about how Hogwarts seemed to be plotting against them, not whine about him.

"It's my seventh year. I sit NEWTs in June. If you think professors are giving you too much, just wait 'til next year. It's all I can do to keep my head above the water. Between that and my duties," he paused, running a hand through his hair and breaking off the sentence. "When we meet to study, all I can do is study. I want to spend time with you, but I can't afford to just muck about this year."

Wren nodded, sinking back into her chair. She needed to stop complaining. She needed to make the most of their time together. She needed to remember the lessons she had learned from her parents' own marriage dynamic of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. That the Ravenclaw would always focus on the goals and achievements, but couldn't function without the Gryffindor by their side. He did need her. He did want her. She had to just get over this.

This wasn't last year.

For the remainder of their time together, the pair worked in silence. Or, at least, Simon worked. Wren re-read the same paragraph out of her textbook three different times. The silence continued even as they packed up to go to dinner and most of the way down the corridor.

Suddenly Simon tugged Wren by the arm to the side of the hall, the movement leading her to gasp in surprise. He stood before her for a second, looking down at his shoes. "I'm sorry," he apologized, dropping his hand from her arm to hold her hand. "I'm just stressed."

Wren nodded quietly, her eyes also on his navy blue and white wing tips.

"I already hate how little we get to see each other, and when you brought it up--it felt like you were trying to make me feel guilty. And it worked."

"I wasn't trying," Wren said, smally. "I was being honest."

Simon tucked a finger under her chin, tilting it up so he could press another kiss to her lips. This one was far harder than the one in the library, and soon his hands moved to her waist and behind her neck, pulling her against him. Wren's brain had just caught up with the moment, allowing her to tug at the front of his robes when he broke away and leaned his forehead against hers. Tingles still raced to her nerve endings as her body buzzed from the kiss. Simon's kisses always seemed to linger--or perhaps, echo was the right word. The sweetness of the library had lasted longer than the kiss, and the dizziness of this kiss…

"We'll figure it out, ok?" Simon asked. "It's the beginning of the year. Once things settle, we'll find more time."

Wren hummed in agreement, kissing him quickly and chastely before following him off towards dinner.

Weekends hardly felt like the weekend anymore. No time with Simon. No sightings of Nora. Even her dorm mates were out of the Gryffindor tower in various parts of the castle. Everything seemed to pass in a blur. One moment she was eating breakfast on Saturday morning, and the next it was Sunday evening and she was hunched over a stack of Transfigurations books in a corner of the common room. Wren sighed as a fifth year boy burst out laughing as an Exploding Snap tower blew up in his friend's face. The noise was getting too much for both her concentration and her nerves, so, gathering up her books, she retreated up to her dorm, spreading out the materials on her bed.

An hour later, she jolted awake to the door flying open. Wren's pulse raced as she extracted her cheek from the page of her textbook and blinked around to see what had happened. Alicia stood just inside, tears streaming down her face. She also seemed surprised to see Wren, half sitting up amongst her materials with her hair sticking to her face.

"Oh, hullo, Wren," she greeted, hastily wiping at her eyes while studiously avoiding Wren's gaze.

Wren lifted herself up to a seating position, her face creasing in worry. She wished she had Nora's natural instinct to know what to do in situations like this. Did she ask questions? Pretend like she didn't notice the tears? Leave?

"Hi," Wren said gently.

Alicia walked over to her bed, bending over to pull off her shoes. She succeeded in unlacing one and threw it to the floor with much more aggression than the shoe could possibly have deserved.

"Are you all right?" Wren asked dumbly, cringing the second the question came out of her mouth. It was exceedingly obvious, even to her, that Alicia was very much not all right.

"I'll be ok," Alicia brushed aside, fighting with the other shoe.

"Ok," Wren nodded, despite the fact that Alicia still refused to look at Wren.

"Is Angelina around?" Alicia's voice came out tight and high.

Wren winced. "I think she's in the library with Lee."

Alicia nodded, evidently not trusting her voice for a response.

"If you'd like, I'll fetch her," Wren offered. Because that was the decent thing to do right? That was the right solution? Before she could get a response, Wren hedged her bets. "But also if you want, I'm a decent listener."

"It's stupid," Alicia dismissed, despite the fact that her voice seemed to crack around the word.

"Given the fact that I haven't seen you cry more than twice over the past six years, I doubt that."

"It's just...boys are morons," Alicia sat down on her bed, and Wren got up from hers, humming in agreement with Alicia's statement as she crossed the room, sinking down into the bed next to her dorm mate. She lifted her arm to put it around Alicia's shoulders before moving to pull her hair back over her shoulder as if that's what she had always intended to do. She couldn't remember: was it Angelina or Alicia who didn't like to be touched? She had to be the world's worst dorm mate. It was a miracle they even tolerated her.

"And which boy in specific is the moron that made you cry?"

Wren had a sinking feeling she already knew the answer.

"Thom Spiro."

While she had expected it, she still had no idea what to say hearing the name of the boy Alicia fancied fall from her lips. Guessing what he did hardly seemed appropriate, but given the wide range of idiocy common in the teenage boys of Hogwarts, asking seemed to be a dangerous option too. So instead, she sat next to Alicia and tentatively looped her arms around her in what she hoped was not the most awkward hug to ever be given. Whether or not it was, Alicia fell into Wren, her crying picking up.

"I caught him kissing Louisa Finch."

Wren's spine straightened, but she didn't say anything.

"Last night--we were fooling around, and he wanted--" Alicia sobbed, seemingly unable to continue as she buried herself into Wren's shoulder. "I said no. I shouldn't have--"

"No," Wren said, firmly. "Absolutely not. You're not finishing that thought."

Alicia sniffed. "But--maybe--"

"No," Wren repeated, shaking her head. "You're not for his use. Obviously he doesn't want a companion, he just wants something he can stick his knob into. You're more than that."

Alicia let out a watery laugh. "I can't believe you said knob."

"What else do you call it?" Wren asked, and Alicia laughed a bit harder. Spotting a bit of success, Wren smiled. "He's a wanker. A tosser. A prick. A dickhead. A pants thinker. A broomstick with no lift. A magicless wand. I'm just guessing on the last two."

Alicia wiped at her eyes, extracting herself from Wren's hug. "I wouldn't know."

"Because you're smart," Wren said, grabbing Alicia's hand and squeezing it. "If you're not ready, you're not ready. It's better to wait than dive in too soon."

A pause settled between them as Alicia silently nodded seeming to think over the statement. "You're right, but--" she swallowed, and Wren could see the tears begin to gather in her eyes again. "It still hurts."

Behind her Wren heard the door to the dorm open and she looked over her shoulder to see Angelina.

"What happened?" she asked, the tone of her voice hinting that she already suspected exactly the story she was going to hear. Alicia filled her in quickly, adding a few more details that had been lost to sobs when she told Wren. All the while, Angelina listened, her face growing stonier and stonier. "Well, you know what we have to do now," she said simply.

Alicia nodded. "Can you?"

Wren looked between the two girls, her brow creased in confusion. "Sorry, I feel like I'm missing something."

Angelina turned her attention to Wren with an echo of amusement on her face. "We have to tell the twins."

It was impressive how much food Fred and George were able to knick in just a half hour. Crisps, popcorn, apple tarts, pumpkin pasties, oranges, treacle fudge, nut brittle, and butterbeer were all placed in the center of the floor of the boys' dorm. Wren and Katie had managed to scrape together a decent stash of other candies like Fizzing Whizzbees, Sugar Quills, Liquorice Wands, and Acid Pops while Lee had convinced the other sixth year boys to leave the dorm and done an impressive job cleaning. Either that, or the boys were a lot neater than Wren would have ever expected.

Wren reached forward, grabbing a new bottle of butter beer and tapping her wand to the top so the bottle cap flipped off.

"Alright are we going to keep avoiding it or should we get to the business of bashing Spiro?" Fred asked, rubbing his hands together. "I've got some excellent remarks on the spelling of his name."

"Come on Freddie, that’s too easy," George admonished, plucking up a handful of crisps. "Let’s get straight to the point that he's a disgrace to Ravenclaw House."

Wren choked on her butterbeer, and Katie reached over to pat her back some as she attempted to pull herself together. Angelina looked more amused at Wren's reaction than the comment, and Alicia turned rather glum as she twirled a sugar quill between her fingers.

"I'm sure there's plenty of boys in Ravenclaw who have done the same," Alicia sighed, lifting the tip of the quill so she could nibble on it.

"No doubt. Boys are horrid," George agreed. "But even amongst the ranks of Roger Davies and Hector Martín-Delgado, Spiro has a particular brain. One might even liken it to a troll's."

Fred nodded. "He's got to be the dullest of the lot. Not quite sure how he got in, frankly."

"No bloke in their right mind would choose Louisa Finch over you," Lee added, nudging Alicia with his shoulder. The corner of her mouth ticked up.

"That's one thing for sure, but the larger issue is--why snog in a public corridor if you're attempting to run around with as many girls as possible?" George asked.

Even Alicia laughed this time, spitting bits of sugar quill out of her mouth before clamping a hand over it.

"A fair question, George," Fred acknowledged, toasting him with his butterbeer. "There are plenty of empty classrooms for that."

"Or any of the not-so-secret passages," Katie added.

"Behind a tapestry," Angelina shrugged.

"In the woods at night," George suggested.

"Anyone on the grounds, really." Wren put in quickly.

Alicia smiled. "He's not exactly the best at finding spots for...rendezvous. Last time I tried to meet him, I ended up with you and Norah Randolph." Alicia gestured at Wren. This thought seemed to deflate her a bit. "It must be nice to have a boyfriend. You don't have to worry about the running around together bit."

“I wouldn’t know,” George quipped, popping some Fizzing Whizzbees into his mouth.

Alicia reached over and smacked his arm. George flinched away with a chuckle, his body slowly lifting off the floor as he tossed the rest of the sweets in his hand into his mouth. “I was talking to Wren,” Alicia corrected.

“You have a boyfriend?” Fred’s eyebrows shot up as he looked over at her, locking eyes. Her stomach flipped and she paused mid lick of her Acid Pop.

“Where was he at the Cup?” George asked. She felt more than saw his eyes on her.

Wren swallowed, clearing her throat of all sugar. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having. Not ever really, but particularly not now. “He was on holiday.”

“You may very well be on holiday, but you come back for the Cup!” Fred said, indignantly. As if Simon’s absence from the Quidditch World Cup was a particular affront to Fred’s own honor as a fan of the sport.

Wren returned her focus to the acid pop at hand. With any luck it would burn a hole through her tongue in the next twenty seconds, and she’d have an excuse to end this conversation before it steered into unwanted territory. “Well, he’s not particularly a Quidditch fan.”

“What particularly is he then?” George asked.

“Simon Chambers,” Wren answered, sticking the lollipop back into her mouth and deciding that she would not take it out under any circumstances.

“Simon Chambers? Really? You and him?” Fred asked. The shock in his voice was a bit offensive.

Before Wren could break her own resolve–which might have had something to do with why she couldn’t manage to stay un-Imperiused-- Angelina stepped in. “They’ve been dating almost two years,” Angelina looked between the twins. “How did you not know?”

The twins shared a look, and shit, shit, shit.

“Well, I just never would have seen it. You, George?”

“No, never.” No one asked Lee, but he shook his head.

Despite the small wave of relief, her stomach still felt as if it was twisted in knots, and she wished very much that all of the attention was off of her. “Look this isn’t about my love life, this is about celebrating Alicia for narrowly avoiding dating a troll’s tit.”

“Collings! Your language!” George gasped, holding a hand to his chest.

“You should have heard her earlier tirade,” Alicia said, grabbing a licorice wand from Lee’s hand.

Wren once again took the acid pop out of her mouth to defend herself. “It was hardly a tirade. None of the words I said were that bad.”

Alicia crossed her arms. “Would you use them in front of your mother?”

Wren opened her mouth but before she could get a word in, Fred followed up the question.

“Would you use them in front of McGonagall.”

Wren’s mouth snapped shut and the boys laughed.

Katie shook her head. “Never would have expected that out of you, Wren.”

“I never would have expected it out of Simon Chambers’ girlfriend,” Fred remarked.

Wren cast him a sour look, and he laughed loudly, but the subject was dropped, and they returned to eating unhealthy amounts of junk, devising new insults for Thom Spiro, and escaping all of the things that truly sucked about being a 6th year.

Despite the fact that she had to spend two hours, first thing in the morning, avoiding plants attempting to kill her, Wren found Herbology to be a bit of a reprieve. Even today as Professor Sprout taught them to wrangle with a Venomous Tentacula in order to effectively and moderately safely collect the plant’s juice, Wren felt as if she was able to breathe in the Greenhouse.

Part of this she attributed to her mother. Having grown up with a Herbologist of some note, a good amount of Wren’s childhood was spent in the gardens and greenhouses her mother tended. Of course, her mother had never let her get near anything quite so interesting as the plants at Hogwarts, but she’d always quite enjoyed tending to the honking daffodils and umbrella flowers.

Her young training had certainly come in handy during the early years of Herbology, but even now as she collected vial after vial of the juice. Wren backed away from the plant, casting an eye around the greenhouse. Many students seemed to still be struggling getting near the plants, while others, like Fred Weasley, seemed to have no issue getting near the plant but couldn’t quite figure out how to draw out the juice. She continued looking around, her eyes landing on Thom Spiro who was currently standing far too close to Caroline Purvis. She giggled as she held the vial up to the plant, and he stepped even closer, almost forgetting his role as a distractor for the plant.

Wren’s jaw clenched. George was right. Boys were horrid, and Thom Spiro was a special sort. He deserved a serious bit of justice.

As she set the vials in their holder to be brought up to Professor Sprout when class ended, an awful idea struck Wren.

It made her smile.

With one eye on Professor Sprout who was busy helping Arlan Summers and Tom Dalgliesh with their plant, Wren corked a vial, wrapped it in cloth, and stuck it in her bag.

Herbology ended soon after, some pairs, like Wren, scoring as many as four while others had nothing but a few tears in their robes to show for their morning.

Quickly, Wren made her way up the hill towards the courtyard where she could study before lunch. She had just picked out a spot lawn when something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned, staring harder as if that would make things make more sense.

Alicia and Nora were….hugging?

It was none of her business. She should really sit down and open up a textbook and focus on her studies and not be walking across the courtyard right now.

"Hi?" Wren cast a look between the two girls.

"Hullo Wren," Alicia said, the words coming out a bit muffled because of the sweet she was chewing. Wren turned her attention to Nora, squinting at her cousin as if that would explain why she was suddenly such close friends to Alicia. Alicia, Wren's dorm mate, whom Nora had had maybe three classes with in her entire Hogwarts career.

As both girls looked at Wren somewhat expectantly, it hit her that she probably should have come up with some excuse to be coming over to say hello. "Hi," Wren repeated again, this time more as a statement than a question. "I just wanted to catch Nora, for a second."

"Yes?" Nora asked, tilting her head slightly.

Shit.

"Mum said to ask if Aunt Kathleen had sent you my color changing ink. She thinks I must have left it at your house when we got back from shopping."

Nora shook her head. "No, mum hasn't sent anything yet...I thought I saw that in your trunk?"

Shit. Shit. Wren was saved from having to attempt another lie by Alicia.

"Wait--are you two cousins? I always thought you were neighbors or met on the train."

Nora laughed heartily. "I know it's hard for me to believe this moody one is my blood," she teased, poking Wren.

"To be fair, we are practically neighbors. It's just the two houses between us," Wren said, batting Nora's hand away as the other girl continued to poke Wren in the arm.

"Blimey," Alicia shook her head. "I'm just as bad as Fred and George aren't I?"

Wren wanted to assure her that she wasn't. The fact that Alicia even knew Wren was dating Simon was purely because Wren had asked her for advice to help get dressed for their first date. The only reason Wren had known that Alicia fancied Thom was more due to Lee announcing it to the common room one afternoon at the end of last year than because of any kind of closeness between the girls. But Wren didn't get the chance because Nora spun to face her.

"Oh?" she asked, her voice going up an octave. "How's that?"

"They didn't know she was dating Simon Chambers."

“Well can’t blame them for that one,” Nora's voice returned to normal as she once more turned to Alicia, ignoring Wren's glare. “You two are never around each other.”

“Our schedules don’t match," Wren defended flatly.

Even though she wasn't facing her, Wren could see the small twinkle in Nora's eyes. “Would you say it’s…'an unavoidable conflict'?”

Wren groaned, and Nora laughed again. "Told you Wren. Divination is serious magic. Anyway," Nora flipped her plait over her shoulder. "I'm supposed to meet Arlan and Cedric so we can do some Astronomy work before lunch. Keep me updated," she added to Alicia who nodded in agreement. With that, Nora was off leaving Wren and Alicia together.

"I can't believe I didn't know Nora Randolph was your cousin!" Alicia shook her head, moving out into the courtyard. Wren followed her.

"I didn't know you were friends."

"We're not really. Or at least, we weren't," Alicia said, selecting a shady spot under a tree and sitting down. Wren hesitated before putting her own bag down and sitting beside the other girl. "We have Ancient Runes together. With Thom."

Wren's eyes widened. "Oh."

"She saw me looking miserable yesterday and made her partner switch chairs with me. Next thing I know, she's passing me toffees and I'm telling her the whole story."

Wren shook her head with a small laugh. “That sounds like Nora.”

Alicia began unpacking some parchment and books from her own bag. "There's not anything in those toffees is there? Veritaserum or something of the sort?"

Wren shook her head again. “That’s just Nora. People'll tell her anything.”

“I think we might be best mates now.” Alicia commented and Wren laughed before taking out her own work, and settling into a studious silence next to Alicia.

She hadn't planned how to get the juice into Thom Spiro' drink.

That was the primary thought running through Wren's head as she sat at the Gryffindor table, picking at her food. She had waved Alicia on to lunch before her, claiming she was just going to finish the chapter before she went in and the other girl didn't have to wait. She'd waited fifteen minutes to enter the Great Hall, sitting far along the table so as not to be seen by professors or any of the prefects who tended to group together at the middle of the table whether consciously or not.

It was about then that the thought hit her for the first time, and she had eaten most of her food and was in the final quarter or so of lunch without the faintest clue as to how to get this vial in his drink.

She couldn't very well just walk up to the Ravenclaw table and slip some in his goblet. The most interaction she'd ever had with him was holding a door open to Charms. They'd never even so much as spoken. Wren half considered dropping a knut on the floor and picking it up and handing it to him. But, passing off a knut and simultaneously pouring something into his goblet seemed just short of impossible.

Wren took a bite out of her roll, watching as more Ravenclaws came in and filled the table. She caught sight of a familiar tall and lean boy with copper hair, and her eyes lit up. Simon. She would walk over under the perfectly reasonable guise of saying hello to her boyfriend, and swap her own goblet with Thom’.

This plan quickly crashed as Simon passed Thom, picking an empty spot, naturally towards the center of the table.

Of course, Wren had considered switching her plan to a simple Pepper Breath Hex, which certainly would have put an end to his romantic endeavors at least for the next couple of days or so. But compared to her initial plan, this idea seemed so inadequate. And how could she even be sure that Alicia got to enjoy the justice? There had to be some way, some excuse, for her to switch goblets--

Of course.

It was so simple, really.

It was unlikely the teachers would expect it. If anything, it'd be written off as an unhappy accident from Herbology. If only he had properly corked his vial or used gloves to pass it along like Professor Sprout had said. Quickly glancing around to see if anyone was looking at her, which of course they weren't, Wren pulled the Venomous Tentacula juice from her bag and poured it in her own cup.

Subtly, she took her wand out of her pocket and with another quick glance up at the professor's table, tapped her own goblet, muttering the spell.

She peered inside and noticed her cup was slightly emptier than it had been.

She'd switched them. A rush of victory swelled in Wren's chest and she almost wished that someone near her would give her a high five.

It took five minutes to determine that her plan worked. A small commotion rose at the Ravenclaw table which seemed like normal lunch nonsense before the group of boys around Thom parted. Wren watched as Thom’s skin slowly shifted from its beautiful shade of lilac to a darker lavender. Giggles began to echo through the Great Hall as Thom’s distress grew more and more apparent. Wren cast a quick look up at the professors' table. Professor Snape looked particularly unamused, but Dumbledore had a small quirk of his lips.

Wren took this as permission for herself to smile as Thom’s friends rushed a now violet Thom Spiro out of the hall and towards, undoubtedly, the Hospital Wing. Sensing this was as good a time as any to dismiss from lunch, the food vanished from the table, and the students began to file out. Wren picked up her bag, ready to go to Transfiguration and feeling particularly pleased with herself as all around her students whispered about that purple Ravenclaw!

"Fine work, Collings." Wren nearly jumped out of her skin, fumbling her books. She succeeded in catching them back onto her arms, but one slid out, bouncing against the ground in front of her. Before she could bend over to retrieve it, one of the twins scooped it up and placed it on top of his own, significantly shorter stack of books. If two books could be called a stack.

"What?" Wren asked, her head turning to each of the twins.

"I was wondering what you were up to in Herbology," Fred, the one who was not holding her book, remarked.

"Sorry, you've lost me." Wren shrugged and gave a jerky shake of her head.

Fred gave her a wolfish grin. "Have I?" He waved his wand, and the empty vial shot out of her bag and into his hand. Because of course he could do nonverbal spells already. He wiggled it in front of her, and Wren snatched at it, surprising herself by actually wrenching it from his hands.

Wren stuffed it back into her bag, glaring at him--although the fact that he was absolutely correct took all of the heat out of her look. "That's for potions."

"And apparently poisoning Ravenclaw dickheads," Fred remarked.

"I didn't poison him."

She did. Technically.

"I don't even understand why you think it was me." She succeeded in making her voice slightly more casual this time which did nothing but make the boys' smiles grow.

"It's not a suspicion," Fred dismissed. " I know it was you. Saw you in Herbology."

"There's a plant that does that?" George asked with widened eyes.

"Apparently the Venomous Tentacula," Fred said. "Sprout said it was a poisonous juice, but I never reckoned I'd actually see someone poisoned with it."

"Stop saying I poisoned him!" Wren hissed.

George's brow wrinkled. "Is there another word for it?"

"Empoisoned?" Fred suggested.

"Envenomed?"

"Would this count as drugging?"

Wren brushed past the twins, entering the Transfigurations classroom. They followed her in laughing.

Alicia looked up from where she and Angelina were gathered together giggling. "Wren!" she called, waving her over quickly. Wren approached, dropping her books off at her desk along the way and trying very hard to keep the smile off of her face, seeing Alicia positively beaming.

"Tell me you didn't miss it."

"Thom Spiro turning bright purple? How could I?"

"Merlin, it was glorious," Alicia exclaimed looking happily up at the ceiling as if attempting to thank Merlin himself up in heaven. When she looked back down, her eyes fell on the Weasley twins who had followed Wren over. "You two, you did this, didn't you?"

"Us? No," George shook his head.

"We'd never dope a student," Fred added, pausing for a second. "That's the word we're going with, right?"

George shook his head. "Doesn't seem quite right. I still think poison's the best fit."

Alicia's face creased in confusion, and perhaps if Wren hadn't seen fit to cast a dark look at the two, the other girls might have assumed they were lying.

"Wren Collings, what did you do?" Angelina asked, and Wren's face went slack with surprise. It was just her luck that Angelina, the one observant enough to have taught Wren and Alicia how to tell the twins apart, would have caught the look.

"Me?" Wren asked, perhaps too defensively because now Alicia's eyes were on her.

"Wren," Alicia looked at her wide-eyed. "Did you....?"

Wren made a sound of disbelief. "You think I poisoned a Ravenclaw student? I'm dating a prefect! A Ravenclaw one."

"You did!" Alicia gasped, grabbing Wren into a tight hug. "You're bloody brilliant. Honestly, Wren. I could kiss you."

"Doubt she'd let you," Fred quipped.

Alicia released Wren who stepped back, taking her book from George and hitting Fred with it. "So violent, Collings," he flinched away laughing. "They're going to lock you up in Azkaban. You maniac."

"So if he wasn't poisoned," Angelina said, "What exactly happened to him?"

All eyes fell on Wren. "He didn't wash his hands properly after handling the Venomous Tentacula juice in Herbology today. Or maybe the cork wasn't on right and some got on his skin," she shrugged. "Professor Snape said it happens every year."

Fred opened his mouth to remark but was cut off by Professor McGonagall walking in, signaling to the students to stop talking and find their seats. Her gaze fell on Fred.

“Mr. Weasley, as you are not taking this class, please find your way to the door.”

Fred gave McGonagall a salute, and turned to leave, making sure to gesture to Wren that he had his eyes on her before heading out of the room. Wren's cheeks tinged pink as she made her way to her desk.

The light poisoning might have been a mistake.

#fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x oc #fred weasley x f!oc #weasley twins #weasley twins fic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fic #harry potter book 4 #harry potter and the goblet of fire #ocappreciation #the fool #oc: wren collings #oc: nora randolph #series: the fool

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