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solemn-siren · 4 months

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Villain Storm Drabble

I had a dream where I fought a villain version of Storm and was inspired to write something. I seem to have a trend of close friends and people I know becoming villains and being forced to fight them… this better have some meaning. What does it mean when your friend becomes a villain in a dream 👀

Anyways enjoy, if people reeeally want a sequel to this ask and maybe you’ll receive (this was written before QJ)

Surrounded by mortals who cannot think, with minds blank and weak enough to manipulate, Storm spoke his words, each stinging the mind and twisting their free will further.

But not all had weak minds that could be twisted. Some were more resistant, and those who were the boldest of the people. Siren was one of them. Guardian of Nephya’s amulet, bender of one of the strongest magic known to the world, bold and fearless were words people used to describe her.

Storm’s rule started when he brutally fought and removed the old king from his rule. No one saw it coming, and Siren knew he single-handedly planned and executed his plan. At first, everyone thought his rule would be the best of all kings, but it quickly turned out to be the opposite. He was obsessed with his idea of him being the god of storms, and he wanted everyone to worship him as a god. Those who didn’t would perish in a violent show of thunder, wind, and rain.

Since everyone believed in his rule, many were easily manipulated into thinking what he was saying was for the good of the world. Siren was one of the few who wasn’t foolish enough to be blinded by his words. She saw right through his illusions and knew she had to do something about it. Only an individual who was strong could go against someone who considers themselves a god.

The sky was cloudy with a chance of rain, and in the gloom of the sky, Siren was on her way to Storm’s “mermaid gladiator arena” where he was, giving words to the people to manipulate him. She was able to tame a Nightshade Paolumu a few days ago and gotten used to him enough to ride and fly him. The dark grey bat like flowing wyvern was able to fly in the sky without alerting anyone of their presence thanks to them blending in with the dark sky above. No one needs to see her for this plan to truly work.

“Are you sure whatever crazy thing you’re about to do is worth it?” The small bat atop the Paolumu, Lullaby, asked. “You’re just a human planning to kill a god. Aren’t you concerned you’re going to die?”

“I’m not a human.” Siren corrected him, pulling out a spyglass to see how close they were to the gladiator arena. “I’m a human who was chosen by your old master to be the guardian of a powerful magic that once belonged to a dragon queen who was cursed to go insane. I’ll be fine.”

”Fine? More like dead.” Lullaby complained.

”I’ll fake my death in front of millions if I have to.” Siren added, putting down her spyglass. “We’re closely approaching the arena now. If something goes wrong it’s you and Nightshade’s job to get me out of there, alive or not.”

Lullaby sighed, before turning to Siren. “Well I will do that but if you die it’s on you.” He said, before turning to Nightshade. “Hear that Bat dragon? We circle that arena around until something bad happens!”

Siren smiled at Lullaby, before letting go of the saddle Nightshade was wearing and letting gravity do its job from here. Below her was the gladiator arena that Storm called home, but was also his fortress. She remembered there being a hole in the dome she could use to sneak past Hunted and Kenpo, who became guards after his rule. She wasn’t wearing armor of any kind, just her usual Velkhana jacket and outfit. In her pockets was her usual weapon, a small cylinder that contained a power source that allowed it to become whatever weapon Siren wished for it to be. She knew what was always beside Storm, and needed it out of the way.

Temporarily entering Harpy form, Siren landed on the roof without making a sound, using her wings to soften her fall. She knew the layout of the fortress thanks to her countless visits before Storm’s rule. She knew the ways between the walls, and as she mined a small hole into the base, she quickly sneaked inside, following the voice of Storm to her goal.

———

No one knew about Siren’s plan, so when a fury of bright pink arrows hit Storm’s Boltreaver Astalos companion, Raize, everyone went into panic, running to flee from the scene.

By the time Storm turned around to see what happened, Raize had been completely frozen from head to toe. He knew something was up when he felt something burning hot and arcane almost pierce through his armor.

Siren had frozen Raize and made the first attack while Storm was distracted. The cylindrical object she called her weapon was in the form of a sword with a bright pink blade. Her eyes were glowing a bright pink that showed she was using Nephya’s powers, using it to quickly dash between walls and gain a height high enough to reach the ceiling and hang there.

“How foolish are you, thinking you can kill god?” Storm asked, summoning both Forky flier and Spark. A bolt of lightning flew towards Siren, who dashed away towards another wall before moving behind Storm, readying another strike. Storm quickly turned around and blocked the attack with both Forky flier and Spark, a spark of silver and pink flashing across the room. Siren dashed away quickly, spinning her sword before it was surrounded in a bright light and suddenly split into two separate swords, one in each hand.

“I thought you could be trusted.” Storm continued on, lightning bouncing between the prismarine walls and Siren dashing between them in a flash of pink. “You once used to be one of my loyal followers, the one who followed my words with no questions asked. Yet once I became king of everything and the true god of storms, you stopped following my words. What’s happened to you?”

Siren didn’t answer, dodging the bolts of lightning. She send crescent moon blades of her own magic towards Storm, her’s a malicious and corrupted purple. Storm raised a shield, easily blocking the first few but the amount of power in each blade was too powerful for the shield and eventually it broke, the last few blades landing its hits on Storm, partially damaging his armor. Talk about Lullaby thinking Siren was too weak to go against a god. She could hold her ground perfectly fine. Slamming her hands on the ground she sent a line of her signature corrupted purple magic in the form of icicles and fog, indicating that stepping on it was not a good idea due to how cold it was. This line of chilling ice rushed towards Storm, who quickly dispelled it with a flash of lightning.

“Bold and reckless is what you became isn’t it?” Storm asked as he sent a bolt of lightning towards Siren, who summoned a ring of fire that protected her from the lightning bolt. The guardian spun her weapon again, this time forming into a long glaive. “Brave of you to show your true colors after all these years. However there’s one thing you need to know.”

As Siren lunged forward with the glaive, Storm reached his hand out, creating a third hand made out of lightning that grabbed the incoming glaive, stopping the guardian’s lunge mid air.

“You cannot kill god.” He said, before releasing the electricity within the third hand, throwing Siren across the room and knocking her into the prismarine walls.

———

When Siren woke up again, she was in a cave, surrounded by familiar faces, one of them being Lullaby.

“Surprised you didn’t die back there.” He commented, Nightshade happily approaching his rider. “After I bailed you out, Storm put a massive bounty on you for trying to ‘assassinate the king’. Everyone’s after you now, so we moved out of the post office and in this secret cave so you’re safe.”

Siren sat up as Nightshade gently laid his head on her lap. She may have lost that time, but she was determined to return and put an end to Storm’s rule once and for all.

#Writing #stormlordzeus #villain series #my stuff

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lockefanfic · 3 years

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White Silk

Parts One, Two, and Three of this series of oneshots.

There were only few moments in your life when you truly cared about the weather.

Once when your much-anticipated camping trip was spent inside your tents hiding from a torrential downpour. Another time when your apartment’s air conditioning broke down during an unprecedented heat wave. A final time when icy roads brought you close to you wrapping your car around a tree.

This was another one of those moments. Outside, what seemed like the storm of the century battered the building relentlessly, turning the day into a dark, stormy mess.

Inside, however, Lee Jieun somehow still managed to shine.

She was utterly beautiful - no, beautiful seemed inadequate to describe the sight. She stands with her back half turned to you, her perfect silhouette framed by the window. And while it is dark and stormy outside, she somehow still manages to glow, her very presence seeming to battle against the gloom that pervaded the rest of the day, seeming to defy it, seeming to tell it “No, your rain and clouds will not dim my brightness.”

She turns when you enter the room - and time slows to a crawl. It was like one of those moments in the movies when the female lead meets the male lead for the first time. As she turns her head, her hair, unstyled and seemingly also unbrushed but somehow still flawless, whips carelessly over her bare shoulder, almost as if in slow motion - a shampoo commercial come to life.

Wrapped around her lithe, thin frame is a white silk dress. Made of the finest of materials and woven by the most talented of seamstresses, it is almost a work of art in and of itself - but without the young woman on whom it draped it is little more than a useless scrap of overpriced fabric. No, the woman made the dress, and not the other way around. It is she that makes the dress beautiful.

From the second you met her so many years ago you’d thought she was the most beautiful woman you’d ever met - but right now, as a bride on her wedding day, you knew she’d never been more beautiful. All women are beautiful - but on their wedding day they glow just a little brighter.

Jieun’s eyes meet yours. A glimpse of a surprised reaction - one she quickly hides. She opens her mouth to speak, and you expect some eloquent, powerful observation on the storm raging outside, and how it will not affect her spirits.

“I need some fucking alcohol,” she spits.

You smirk a little at her first words of the day to you. She looked like a princess, but sometimes she had the tongue of a sailor.

“Sorry,” you answer as you step towards her, “there’s no bar on the premises, unfortunately, although I hear the reception will have one. Cash bar, though, so best hit up an ATM before arriving.”

Jieun sighs and returns her attention to staring out the window. You feel the room get a little dimmer as she takes her attention away from you.

“Of course not. Nothing today can go right, apparently.”

You stand beside her, staring out the same window at the angry grey skies and the seemingly endless torrential downpour.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she says after a few shared seconds watching the raindrops trace random patterns on the glass.

“You’re not exactly kicking me out.”

Jieun scoffs. “Well everything else today is going horribly wrong so yeah, why the hell not have you show up?”

“What else is going wrong, exactly?”

“The photographer came down with a cold, so the best we can muster is my cousin and his fucking iPhone. The hair and makeup artist I hired is stuck in traffic on the other side of the city and probably won’t make it here on time, which is why I currently look like a fucking college student on the wrong end of a weed bender. The florist thought the wedding was tomorrow, so the only flowers we have are those sad looking almost-dead bouquets from the fucking gas station. Oh, and the reception hall had a goddamn double booking and neglected to tell us that the banquet hall won’t be available until 10pm, once the fucking high school math olympics has finished its awards ceremony!”

You frown. There wasn’t really much you could do to ameliorate the situation.

“Clusterfuck and a half,” you state.

“Clusterfuck and three quarters,” she counters, “coming real close to two full clusterfucks. Compared to all the bullshit that’s already gone down today, yeah, fuck it, you may as well be here, even when you very clearly shouldn’t be. I’m getting married today, if you didn’t notice.”

You glance over to her for the first time, and even though she is currently wearing a frown on her cute little features, you are nonetheless still struck by her beauty. Such a cheesy thing to admit to - being awestruck by a woman. It was something that surely only happened in books and movies and on Netflix; surely in real life no woman could ever be so beautiful as to render a man temporarily physically paralyzed.

But Lee Jieun had a way of doing that to you. She did it when she walked into the busy downtown Korean barbeque place that your mutual friend had dragged her to on that fateful day so many years ago. She did it when she just so happened to sit next to you, and again when she reached out her slim, pale hand and introduced herself with a cute handshake and a blinding smile.

And she did it every single day you’d met her since. Today was no different, even if it was one of the most important days of her life.

“I overheard one of the bridesmaids saying you weren’t doing so well,” you say. “I had to make sure you were going to make it up the aisle.”

“Well I feel nauseous as fuck at the moment so I might make it up there only to barf all over the goddamn groom when I get to the altar.”

“What a lucky guy.”

“Damn straight. He gets to spend his entire life boning this hot piece,” she says with an exaggerated flourish of her hand over her body that was more sarcastic than serious, a deadpan frown on her face.

“I’m jealous,” you say.

Jieun buries her face in her hands, where she lets out a long sigh.

“Are you sure you don’t have a shot of soju in your jacket or something?”

“No,” you say. “I do have these, though.”

“I swear to god if you’re referring to your balls I’m gonna punch-”

When she lifts her head from her hands, she finds you with your arms wide open and the cheesiest of smiles on your face.

It begins slowly - just a slight crack of an upward tilt at the corners of her mouth, like a small ray of light piercing dark clouds. Eventually her soft pink lips and cute cheeks follow suit, and soon the metaphorical clouds part, her face surrendering to the reluctant smile and short chuckle that she allows to escape her mouth along with an adorable little snort.

She steps forward into your embrace, and you wrap your arms tightly around each other.

“You’ve always been there for me,” she says, her words muffled by your chest.

“I always will be.”

“Even when I’m married?”

“Especially when you’re married. Married guys can be dicks.”

Jieun chuckles again, and the soft vibration of her laugh against your chest makes your heart sing. She presses herself closer against you, as though she were fleeing from the accumulating problems of the day and had just found a hiding spot in your arms.

“How much time do I have?” she asks, barely audible.

“About an hour or so, I’d say,” you reply. Only a few of the guests had arrived and the groomsmen and bridesmaids were occupied with putting out the myriad of little fires that came up during weddings. There was still some time to yourselves before the start of the show.

“Then kiss me,” she says, lifting her head from your chest.

Time slows again. Time moves slowly, almost incrementally slowly, as you bend your head to kiss her.

It felt so wrong, so dangerous - but it also felt so right, so perfect. You should not have been there, not on her wedding day, mere minutes before she was to walk down the aisle. You could have, and perhaps should have, been anywhere but here.

But Jieun had always had that hold over you. You didn’t think yourself whipped for any other woman in your life, but when Jieun called you answered - no questions asked. You hated yourself for it sometimes, hated that a woman could have such overwhelming control over you, could have you wrapped around her finger like she did.

But one smile - and sometimes, one kiss - was all it took to remind you why you did it: you were in love with her.

The kiss deepens, becoming something more passionate, more needy. Tongues begin to explore familiar mouths and find their counterparts willing and ready to touch and taste. Hands tighten around torsos. Hips press against hips. The bride tries to find solace from a day of ruined plans in the kiss and embrace of a man that meant so much to her.

You are happy to leave it there - merely seeing her was already probably a mistake - but Jieun was never one to stop things she had started. She breaks the kiss and pulls at the back of your head until your mouth is on her neck, and you begin devouring the sweet, pale flesh there with your hungry lips and tongue. She cranes her neck up and back, offering up more of herself to you.

Her hands slip between your bodies to work at your belt, which she quickly undoes.

“Here..?” you manage to gasp in between kisses. She was taking your breath away, again, although this time for another reason.

“Here,” she snaps, as though she were surprised you would even dare to ask, “Everything else is going wrong. I need this now. I need you now. Fuck me like you always do. One last time.”

Before you could say anything further she has you out of your boxers, her slim fingers suddenly cold and chilly around your quickly hardening shaft. Soon she has you at full stiffness. It doesn’t take you long. It never did. Especially not now, given the circumstances. Given the knowledge that the hand wrapped around your shaft and pumping it up and down would soon have a shiny diamond ring on it for the rest of her life.

You groan into her neck as the pleasure she is conjuring inside your body begins to overtake your senses. You feel her cheeks move against the side of your face - a wicked smile on an angel’s lips.

You are content to let her have her way with you, but you are reminded of her request - to fuck her the way you always did. And when you fucked, you were the one in control. Her innocent, girl-next-door exterior belied the fact that she loved to be taken, loved to be called names and used - and you weren’t one to disappoint her, even today, on this most important of days. You hated yourself sometimes for how much control she had over you in your day-to-day life; but you relished the fact that in your most intimate moments the roles were very much reversed.

You bring your hands to her shoulders and turn her around until she is facing the wall. She lets out a gasp of surprise - one that turns into a low moan as you press yourself, and your stiff shaft, against her. She braces herself against the glass, her forearms and palms flat against it.

Your hands, still on her shoulders, trace the top edge of the perfect white dress wrapped around her like a second skin. When they reach the front of her dress, you grasp the top edge and pull downward.

Jieun gasps as you pull the dress down to expose her breasts, and you grin devilishly over her shoulder as you watch her reflection in the glass as her small, perfect round mounds bounce free from their silk prison. Before she can react further your hands are already on them, squeezing them none too gently, enjoying the feel of her body molding itself into your hands, her already stiffened nipples poking between your fingers.

“You gonna let me fuck you on your wedding day, Jieun?” you hiss into her ear.

“Fuck yes,” she hisses, her breath a mist upon the glass, “I want you to fuck me right fucking now.”. She reaches down, pulling her long, flowing skirt up to bunch it around her waist. It takes her a while - her skirt is so long - but soon the pale, perfect round cheeks of her pert little ass are laid bare, your cock pressing impatiently against her lower back.

You smirk at the sight of her, the perfect little bride on her wedding day, now a wanton, needy little thing, begging for it, begging to be fucked in a dress that was supposed to symbolize her innocence with its pure color. She wasn’t even wearing underwear, as though she knew this would happen, was expecting to be fucked wearing this dress.

“Fuck me,” she snaps, as though every moment you kept her waiting was making her more and more upset. “Fuck me please. I’m so wet for you.”

“Such a slutty little bride,” you observe. ‘So wet and hot already, and I’ve barely touched you.” You pinch her nipples. She sighs. You grin at the sight of her in her pristine white dress, an angel engaged in an act that was not at all angelic.

“Fuck yes. I’m such a slut. Such a slutty little bride. Now fuck me!”

“You want to get fucked against this glass in your pretty little white wedding dress?”

“Mmmm!” Jieun gasps, every sound that leaves her throat dripping now with need, “Please, fuck me now. Fuck this bride’s tight little pussy until you cum in it.”

You let go of her breasts, but not before giving her stiff nubs one last pinch that elicits a sharp gasp from her throat. Your right hand drifts to your cock, you line up your tip with her entrance, and within moments you slip inside Lee Jieun’s body.

You’d had her plenty of times, but today is different - and you wonder if perhaps the circumstances and the sheer audacity of what you were doing somehow added to the way she felt around you. She was slick and hot and wet and so, so very tight. It almost drove you insane to be inside her. Judging by the way her fingers curled against the hard glass, seeking something to claw into as she is filled with your cock - Jieun felt the same.

“Fuck,” she hisses, the curse word leaving her mouth in a breathy sigh. You both take a moment to savor the sensations - hers of being filled, yours of her wet, hot body wrapping itself around your stiff, aching shaft.

You don’t waste any time. You had little to waste, nor did you have any desire to deny yourself the pleasure her body promised. When you withdraw your shaft from between her round cheeks to find it glistening with her juices, you quickly drive yourself back in - this time to the hilt.

Soon you are fucking Lee Jieun against the glass, her naked breasts pressed against it, stiff nipples crushed against the cold surface as she is taken roughly, your cock pumping in and out of her wet, slick pussy at a frantic pace.

If she had problems with the liberties you were taking on her body she was not showing it. Her reactions told you much the opposite - that she loved each thrust into her needy pussy, loved feeling you piston in and out of her at the quick, hard pace you had set for yourselves.

“Oh my… oh my fucking god,” she hisses, her face pressed now against the glass, a soft mist forming on it with each hot breath that leaves her lips. “Fuck me, fuck me like this.”

You are almost afraid to look down, almost afraid to watch your cock pump in and out of her needy body - but you eventually tear your eyes from her pleasure-stricken face to glance down between your torsos.

Her juices are flowing freely, lathering your stiff shaft with a thick sheen of her slick, glistening wetness. Her lips grip every inch of your shaft, parting softly to welcome it in with each thrust, grasping it tightly with each withdrawal as though not wanting to let it go. You reach down and squeeze her tight little ass with both hands, filling your hands with her cheeks, parting them slightly to give you a better view of each thrust of your cock into her slick, wet pussy.

“Oh… oh fuck!” she gasps as you reach a new depth, bottoming out your thrusts now as you fill her with every inch of you, filling the mewling young bride as deeply as you could with stiff cock.

“Fucking take my cock, Jieun,” you snap, bringing your hand up to her chin to tilt it toward you. “Fucking take it.”

“Y-yes! Fuck me… I’m yours. I’m yours!”

The filth of her words, of her submission to you, would have been pleasurable any other time. But now, mere minutes from her marriage - it meant something more, something more perverse - and something more deliciously sinful.

You reach around her torso to grasp a round breast with your free hand, finding her stiff nipple and teasing it at first before pinching and twisting the sensitive bud. You turn her face toward you with the hand on her chin, wanting to watch as every thrust into her body twisted her small, adorable face with little spasms of pleasure. For a few long, delicious minutes you fuck the mewling, squirming young bride against the glass, the pleasure you both found in each others’ bodies far outweighing the filthy wickedness of your act.

“Is your husband going to fuck you like this every single day? Fuck your needy, slutty little pussy whenever he wants?”

“Y-yes!” she manages to gasp, her words interrupted by each thrust of your cock into her juicy pussy, “Yes… whenever… wherever… however he wants!”

“And you want my cum dripping down your legs while you walk down the aisle? While you get married?”

“Yes! Oh fuck please I want it, I want your cum inside me, I want it dripping out of my pussy oh please oh fuck, cum inside me oh fuck cum inside me please, fill my pussy, fill me with cum, fuck me, fuck me, oh, oh I’m cumming, oh--!”

You always dreaded Jieun’s orgasm during sex, because it was so powerful, so overwhelming - not only for her, but for the both of you. And it usually meant that you came soon after.

Jieun turns into a mewling, quivering mess of flesh, held up against the glass only by your hands on her chin and breast - and the cock still pistoning in and out of her pulsating pussy. You fuck her through her orgasm even as you feel your own beckoning, concentrating on each thrust, pushing yourself as deep as you can inside the young bride before pulling out only far enough to thrust right back inside her.

The random pulsating of her slick pussy, the wordless cries of pleasure brought upon her by her orgasm, and the soft breast in your hand - it all combined to push you dangerously close to the edge. But the thought of it - of fucking this needy young woman mere moments before her wedding - and at her demand, no less - it pushed you right over it.

You push yourself as deep inside her as you can go before you finally allow your orgasm to overtake your senses. Your mind tunnels, becoming focused solely on your pulsating cock as it spurts hot, thick semen deep inside Jieun’s tightly gripping pussy. The bride gasps - a soft, lustful sound - with each rope of cum that splashes into her depths, each stream further adding to the mess you’d made inside her body.

You both spend a long minute trying your best to piece your realities back together after your respective orgasms have shattered it, both reduced to heavily breathing, barely standing masses of suddenly weak flesh. It was a quick little session - not more than a few minutes from her first kiss to your mutual orgasm - but it still left you both exhausted, chests heaving in an attempt to refill lungs drained of air.

You reach up, tilt her chin to yours once more, and you give her a kiss - one that was more affectionate than perhaps either of you were ready for, but one you find her returning willingly and passionately.

Slowly you draw your softening shaft out of her body, and Jieun tries her best to clean herself up and look presentable, doing her best to look as though she didn’t just have rough sex minutes before walking down the aisle.

There is a knock on the door. It opens just wide enough for the maid of honor to poke her head inside - and you are thankful that she didn’t decide to do so a few minutes earlier, lest she catch you fucking the bride against the glass. She gives you a quizzical look.

“Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?” she asks.

“I think we’ve used up all our bad luck for today, Nayeon,” Jieun answers. “What’s a little more bullshit on top of the shit sundae that is our wedding plans?”

Nayeon frowns, confused by the bride’s nonchalance towards the day’s ruined plans. “Aish. Anyway, the makeup lady is here. And one of the groomsmen managed to track down a photographer. One of you should talk to him.”

“Thank you, Nayeon. We’ll just be a few minutes,” you reply.

The maid of honor gives you both a look before she closes the door behind her.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Jieun says.

“Me neither.”

“I’ll see you up there. You’re walking down that aisle first. Try not to trip.”

“Try not to drip.”

Jieun gives you a punch in the arm, but her hand lingers there for a moment, before sliding down and grasping your hand in hers.

“I love you,” she says.

“And I, you,” you reply.

You kiss her, and the peck on the lips turns into a soft but passionate kiss. She gives one last look out the window and the cloudy, stormy weather that continued unabated outside, although it all seemed to matter a little less to the both of you.

“Let’s go get married,” she says, the smile on her lips all the sunshine you ever needed.

Author’s Note: Short but hopefully sweet. :) I had to sneak in an “I, you” (IU) reference in there somewhere lol.

So I felt kind of bad about the way Green Silk ended and wanted to have a similar twist but this time with a happy ending lol. Also lol at maid of honor Nayeon, I bet being IU’s maid of honor would be a dream come true for her haha.

#kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #male reader #pov smut #lee jieun #iu

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cuddlesslut · 3 years

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Memories

Part three to Home

Suna x fem reader

Atsumu x fem reader

Tags: still angst, light fluff, just a lot of Suna simping.

AN// let me know if you want me to continue the story.

Part Two: Silence

Part Four: Chance Encounters

You were the most beautiful girl Suna had ever seen. When he saw you that first day of school it was like the clouds in his normally dreary day parted and he could feel the sun. You weren’t in the same class much to his dismay. That didn’t stop the middle blocker from searching for your face in the crowds of the halls or the cafeteria. Though it was rare he stilled catch some glimpses. In those moments a war waged in his mind part of him wanted to go introduce himself, he wanted to know your name. To just be around you. But another side of his brain forbid that. Stating that he was fine were he was he would just interrupt your day. What would he even say to you. Hi I’m Suna I’ve been watching you since the first and even though I know next to nothing about you I can’t get you out of my head..... yeah no. He’d just sit back and wait for opportunity to knock. Suna curses himself for his laziness. He can’t describe how his heart stop the day his friend brought you to practice and introduce you as his girlfriend.

Though he kept his composure he felt as though the air was stolen from his lungs. This is the closesest he had ever to been to you and it was overwhelming to say the least. You stood there at Atsumu’s side smiling and greeting the team memebers and when your attention drew to Suna he realized his favorite thing about you was your eyes. You beautiful (e/c) eyes shown with so much light and happiness. When you smiled you smiled with your eyes, always getting this cute little crinkle. He shook his head at these feelings. You were taken and by one of his friends no less.

From that moment on you presence was always close by joining the boys for lunch or stopping by practice with little snacks you had made the team. Suna almost resents how easy he gets along with you. How simple it is to fall into a banter with you. He hates how calming it is when you’d sit next to him and laugh as you showed him some meme. He wanted to be annoyed with you ever time you’d put your foot down and insist he let you wrap his finger after a bad block. But he couldn’t you were just such a caring person. He’d try and give you some petty insults, maybe if he caused a rift between the two of you he’d feel better, maybe then if there was more space between you he’d feel less guilty for always being enraptured by you. But you’d always snap back with something just as clever or petty. You could go toe to toe in trading insults but both of you knew neither of you meant it. You’d always break out into that breathtaking smile after a few rounds of back and forth. He realized soon that he’d much rather keep you in his life as a friend even if he could never have you because at least he’d still see that smile. At least as your best friend he’d still see your eyes shine bright and he could take a small pleasure in knowing he brought some of that happiness.

“You need to calm down,” Suna turned to see Osamu taking the seat on the bench next to him.

Suna's hands run through his hair gripping the roots in frustration as he let out a yell.

“How the fuck am I supposed to be calm, she could be hurt or missing, and that ass is just sitting there! Two weeks! Lord knows what could have happened by now.” Hes shaking part of him wants to go back up and give Atsumu a few more licks but he knows no good will come from it.

“YN is a grown woman and she’s smart and strong and you know damn well she’d bitch you out right now for thinking she couldn’t handle herself,” the former ace chuckled.

“I’d much rather her here bitching cause at least then she’d be here,” he groaned rubbing his hand down his legs trying to let out some of his nerves. “Did you know?” He asked the grey haired twin.

Samu gave his quick glare of offense. “Absolutely not believe me if I’d known I would have been the one to deck him , you just beat me to it.”

“The last i heard from her was her birthday, maybe if I’d had stopped by and brought the Onigiri myself I could have been there for her,” he sighs.

“We’ll find her don’t worry,” his friend pats his back, “and then you can finally confess,”he smiles.

“I’m that obvious huh,” he sighed.

Samu let a loud laugh “ OH PLEASE we all knew, well maybe not YN she can be kinda blind ya’know,”

Suna shook his head laughing. He has to see you.

They returned home today from nationals. The loss to Karasuno was really starting to sink in now that was Suna was home sitting in his room alone the house quiet. He laid there berating himself for balls he failed to block. If I had just done better maybe my team would still be playing. Maybe - he was disrupted from his thoughts by the chime of the door bell. His parents were out of town this weekend. They had assumed like many Inarizaki would still be out in Tokyo fighting for first place. It was fine though Suna was used to being alone. But that just confused him more as he made his way to the door. Who could possibly be here. All he can say is he’d never except to open the door and see you standing there. Like always you stole his breath away.

“What yer not gunna let me in,” you teased “and to think I brought you snacks!” He just realized now she was carrying a grocery bag that looked pretty heavy.

“Give me that ya Dummy,” he said taking away the snacks, he stepped to the side allowing her entry.

“I figured you were hungry, but try to save me some,” she giggled. Suna just rolled his eyes as she took a seat on his couch.

“What are you doing here?” He questioned taking his seat beside her making sure to leave a respectable distance. Though he wants nothing more than to hold you close. He dismisses the thought as he rummages threw the goodies waiting for your response. He smiles seeing the package of milk bread you bought. He took it out and tossed it to you knowing it was your favorite. You smile and give a slight nod as a thank you.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to be alone after the game, I know your probably thinking a whole bunch of nonsense right now aren’t ya?” She looked at him with a solem but knowing look. He cursed how well you knew him. Seeing as he had been doing just that before your arrival. His heart squeezed at the thought of you wanting to comfort him. It almost gives him a slight hope. What about Atsumu, he lost that game too.

“Why aren’t you with you boyfriend, he’s probably taking it harder than me,” he asks knowing he might ruin this little fantasy he has here with you. He sees a sad look cross your face at the mention of the setter. It’s not a look Suna wants to keep seeing.

“You’re right about that, Tsmu’s having a tough go of it,” she gave a soft smile. “But he said he didn’t want my pity and asked I leave,” Suna could see your eyes get a little glassy thinking back to the conversation.

“He’s an Ass.” The middle blocker states plainly.

“He’s just got a lot of emotions right now and wants his space, it’s okay.” But Suna can see your hurt. He knows it wont do any good to keep talking about it.

“His loss, now I get all of the snacks,” pulling out a bag of chips. “Want to watch a movie?”

That’s how the evening went the both of you curled up on the couch Suna had brought down some pillows and blankets and he wouldn’t lie he loved seeing you wrapped in his comforter. You went on and on about this anime you started and you nearly died when he agreed to let you show it to him, pumping your fist in the air going off about your favorite character and how he’s totally going to love him. Suna looks over at you and your wearing the biggest smile eyes wide with joy. This is will always be his favorite moment he thinks.

He’s right that moment still sticks out in his mind. He has plenty of great memories but that one right there is his favorite. He’s been thinking back on a lot of his memories of you lately.

It’s been seven months since your birthday and no one in your former circle new anything about where you were. You hadn’t talked to anyone. Your number was no longer in service and all of you socials have gone silent.

After a couple of days of looking for you Suna was ready to go to the Police and report you missing, ready to call every hospital and pray you are safe. At this point that’s all that matters to him. He can’t bare to think about anything bad happening to you but it’s hard to keep his mind out of the dark place. Osamu was the one to stop him. Luckily they had gotten in touch with their former captain and while Kita was sorry to hear about the situation and very disappointed in his junior for his actions. Every one was upset with Atsumu for his actions. Kita was gladly willing to help in the search. Still being in their home town he was able to pay your parents a quick visit. And while he was happy he could inform them both that your parents had heard from you the other day so your fine. That was all your parents could tell him, stating that you had requested to keep your privacy not wanting to talk to anyone. So while they knew the biggest detail they still knew nothing.

It hurt Suna the most. How could you just cut him off like that. You were the most important person to him how could you not know that. He fretted. He knows your hurting but why did you have to cut all of them off most importantly him. Part of him was so incredibly angry how could you not even say goodbye to him. Did his friendship really mean that little to you. But another part of him understood that he couldn’t possibly know what you are going through. All he knew is how much he missed your smiling eyes. He would give everything to see you again.

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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

Text

~ 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ~

Part III

All picture rights to their respective owners.

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥: Photographer!Hyunjin x fem!model!reader, manager!Bangchan, stylist!Jisung, agedup!straykids, SMUT, fluff, character driven story, stranger to lovers, summer!au, soft!dom hyunjin x fem!reader, PIV, penetrative sex, protected sex (wow first time writing that, good on ya cher) sexual photos/pictures taken during sex, semi-public sex, orgasm (m/f), cum, fingering, blowjob, light choking, praise kink, handkink??

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 5.4 k

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: am so creative with the office numbers? right? tell me im creative LMAO

oh god this was a fucking pain in the ass to read through i cringed at every sentence so hopefully my pain will be your pleasure

Taking pictures of you - MASTERLIST

ONE｜TWO｜THREE

Unlike any other day you couldn’t get out of bed. A boulder of nervousness plaguing you. Through the cracks of the blinds the sun shined in, small particles of dust floating around your resting figure. You were wide awake yet you felt asleep, your thoughts consuming your mind as the dimly lit room became brighter as time ticked on.

You were thinking, perhaps overthinking. This whole situation with Hyunjin seemed confusing and happened way to fast, your psyche not having a moment to digest the events that unfolded during the last couple of days.

Love was a feeling you were familiar with. You knew how it felt. Those butterflies in ones stomach, fluttering everytime a thought of the person passes through your ones.

You felt the same feeling everytime you thought of Hyunjin.

How his soft lips would feel against your cheek that was hot from just looking at his beauty. How his blond hair falls in his face everytime he puts it into a ponytail, his silver decorated fingers tucking the stray pieces behind his pierced ear. These thoughts alone would make your heart beat faster than ever, you eyes clouding with lust even if you knew that this relationship would be impossible given the status the both of you have in this judging industry.

Pushing the covers aside, you sat up before slowly stepping out, your feet hitting the cold flooring of the apartment. You stretched your arms upwards, feeling your spine extend as you squinted, a ray of sunshine hitting you right in the eyes.

The boulder in your chest didn’t feel any lighter but you still got up, wanting time to fly by fast just so you could see his face once again.

♡

No amount of mindfulness exercises could calm the churning of your stomach. The clock in your living room ticked as you watched it with careful eyes, waiting for the time to hit precisely half past before you got up from the couch and shuffled over to the wardrobe, only being stopped from a pling on your phone.

[Bangchan] y/n! can you come by in about an hour? need to discuss some concept photos, sorry for such short notice ❤️

That’s when it hit you. Bangchan didn’t know anything about this. He didn’t know that you’d seen the photos from the shoot and most importantly that you went on a date with the photographer. You could only describe the feeling as ‘improper’. Bangchan was after all one of the closest people in your life, he made you to who you are today and lying to him felt wrong but you shielded your eyes from the truth as you typed back.

[y/n] soz, got plans

[Bangchan] I don’t see any other meeting scheduled for today?

[y/n] you do know that I have a life outside of work? take the day off Chan, you could use some rest ❤️

[Bangchan] Don’t worry about me! You have fun alright?

[y/n] alright, see you next week then ^^

You clicked on the off button on your phone, making the text messages disappear. Getting paranoid, you plopped down on the couch, thinking about every possible way you could get caught which you’d already been, photos of you and Hyunjin circulating throughout social media but they mustn’t have reached Bangchan just yet. You felt like digging a hole underground, wanting to hide away from all these thoughts. The main thought in your mind was whether or not you understood Hyunjin’s intentions.

What if this love was one sided?

Waveing your hand in the air, you attempted to get the mind out of your head as if you were breaking up a cloud of real thoughts. You glanced up at the clock and only then realised that you were running late, as usual.

��Wear whatever you want”

Was what Hyunjin said last time but that didn’t make it easier to choose an outfit. Standing infront of multiple racks of clothing you pulled up the weather application on your phone. “Sunny” you mumbled, making you gravitate towards a beige croptop with white stripes around the neckline as well as a white tennis skirt. Not too dressed up but not too dressed down either, just right. Clothes were flying everywhere when you searched for a pair of white socks to pair with your white high platform sneakers. You put the outfit on, observing yourself in the mirror and smiling, trying to get yourself in a better mood rather than being a nervous wreck. Pulling up your phone, you snapped a picture and sent it to the person who knew best about fashion. Jisung.

[y/n] Sungie! Is this acceptable for a impromptu photoshoot?

The fashionable boy replied minutes later.

[Jisung] oh!! that’s so cute! very much acceptable in my book 🥺

You smiled at his reply

[y/n] phew! good...

[Jisung] is it a date?

Your fingers froze above the keyboard on the phone. Was it that noticeable? Was this really a date?

[y/n] no!!!

[Jisung] you sure, i saw those photos on social media. ahh.. y/n dating famous photographers now...

By this point you were sweating bullets.

[y/n] first of all, i’m not meeting him and second of all, he’s a friend so shut it.

[Jisung] hahah alright alright... i won’t tell Bangchan

[y/n] you have nothing to tell!! we’re friends just like you and I so be quiet otherwise i’ll come over there with balloons, popping them in your face.

[Jisung] oh wow... im so scared...

[y/n] need to leave, if i hear something about you spreading some rumors i’ll seriously do it.

[Jisung] Photo Attachment.

The photo that popped up was from yesterday and your breath hitched. You couldn’t help but to notice the way Hyunjin was looking at you, his eyes filled what seemed like adoration.

[Jisung] yeah because that totally doesn’t look like a date

[y/n] DON’T TELL BANGCHAN PLEASE

[Jisung] oh so it is a date? alright, i won’t! have fun and be safe

[y/n] be safe? we’re taking pictures, not drag racing

[Jisung] hahah stop playing innocent

Your eyes widened in realisation.

[y/n] you crazy fucker

[y/n] I WILL DESTROY YOUR ENTIRE WARDROBE IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP I DON’T SLEEP ON THE FIRST DATE

[Jisung] Whatever you say

Thanks to Jisung you were now running dangerously late leading to you snatching objects from all corners of the apartment before ordering a cab that would arrive in minutes.

♡

“We’ve arrived, miss” the cab driver says, smiling at you through the rear-view mirror. You thank him and step out of the yellow car, a smell of car exhaust hitting your nose. The cab drives away, leaving nothing but a small cloud of smoke. You looked up, almost not seeing the tip of the building as the skyscraper towered over you. You’re beside the busy road, mouth agape. You’d walked by a couple of times but knowing that you knew the person that owned at least a bit of the building made you giddy.

You walked in and was greeted by a grand lobby, a front desk as big as the wall behind it. The entire place was filled with people, everyone from business men in suits to trainee models in the most flamboyant outfits. Fishnet stockings, heavy chains and distressed jeans that consisted of more air then jeans material. The sun shined through the many glass panes that made up most of the ceiling and the slight breeze of the air conditioner made this whole vibe of the building comforting.

“Hi! y/n y/l/n, meeting Hwang Hyunjin” you say to the receptionist that was a relatively old woman, probably in her early 60′s. She was wearing a white button down shirt with her hair in a high bun, a couple of gray strands sticking out. Her red painted mouth contorted into a smile.

“y/n, Hyunjin said that you could make your way to his office without the guards. You must be a close friend”

You smiled shyly with your warm cheeks, looking at either side of the desk where two tall buff men were standing, wearing walkie talkies on their black vests. With a small nod, you started speaking.

“W-where exactly is his office?”

“Floor 20, his main office is in room 03″

“Thank you!”

You quickly shuffled over to the elevators, pushing the button that lit up with orange light emitting.

PLING

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped inside, a couple of office workers joining you and pressing the necessary buttons to make the elevator lift off.

You step out at the 20th floor, looking around at all the intricate wall design, everything inspired by ancient greece which explains the broken vases that were scattered across the hallway in the most unconventional places. They were all encapsulated with glass and standing on tall white pillars, the vases looking rather sad, being in a spectra of ashy grey colors, every single one of them falling apart.

Stopping, you observed this one vase that caught your attention. It had swirly details around the edge and was shattered in a rather beautiful way. It made you think how even the most broken pieces still carry beauty, beauty unique to only oneself.

“It’s pretty right?”

The voice sounded familiar and warm, almost as if it had anticipated your arrival.

“y-yeah, it really is”

You say turning around, nearly jumping up on the wall when seeing the figure that looked back at you. It was Hyunjin.

Yet again, his presence was astonishing. Everytime you met him it felt as if you’d met him for the first time. The blond boy was standing tall in front of you, wearing a black hoodie, black basketball shorts and a matching headband. A backpack was thrown across his one shoulder and a smaller camera around his neck, everything about his appearence looking completely different from the last time you saw him, his style usually more sophisticated.

“On your way to meet me, yeah?” he asked and you nodded shyly.

“My office is the other way, you know?”

You lifted your gaze to look at the tiny sign on the wall that pointed in two directions, you were walking down the hallway for offices 20-40 by accident and you smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of your head.

“I didn’t know heh...”

“It’s alright! Come with me, I was on my way to the studio”

“What room is that? Your office?”

“No, the room next to my office, come! I’ll show you!”

He grabbed your hand and you felt your body stiffen as he dragged you down the hallway, his hand not being decorated with statement rings this time, instead feeling soft and warm. You blanked out, your legs walking by themselves.

He stopped at a brown door, a tiny gold sign saying « 04 » and beside it a transparent sign stating that this was a photography studio. Hyunjin opened the door and dragged you in, closing the door behind you.

A cold wind hit your warm body, the air conditioner blasting it’s breeze with a faint sound. The room was wide, one wall being made completely out of glass, stand close enough and you could peer down the bustling city filled with people, cars and buildings. The typical photoshoot setup was already in place, the camera being propped up infront of a white backdrop, a white pilar in the middle and two boxlights standing unlit behind the camera. In the corner stood a vintage brown leather couch, the swirly metal details were concealed with a layer of chipped gold paint. Beside the couch stood a simple white table. A black bucket rested on the floor and upon closer inspection you noticed plants, multiple stems of eucalyptus poking out, wrapped in cellophane.

“What are these for?”

You sat down on your knees infront of the bucket while Hyunjin was pressing buttons on the camera that was screwed onto the tripod before walking over to the table and placing down the camera he had around his neck, his backpack lying lazily on the floor. He looked at your crouching figure, the corners of his lips going upwards.

“I thought they’d suit you”

You held in one of the stems, turning your head and looking at his shy smile, his dimples sitting playfully on the sides of his cheeks. You giggle, standing up and leaning against the white pillar, holding the plant in your both hands.

“Do they?”

Hyunjin walked towards the steadied camera, bending down and peeking through the lens.

“They do”

click

Your eyes widen, him snapping a picture without you paying attention.

“Hey! I wasn’t even prepared!” you chuckle, pointing at the blonde boy with the long plant that was dripping at the stem.

“Nature is a bit more beautiful when caught off guard, don’t you think?” Hyunjin says, his honey-like voice, echoing through the room.

You nod, staring down at the leafs of the plant, rubbing them between your thumb and pointer finger.

click

“Try leaning with your butt against the pillar and with one foot fully on the side of the pillar”

You did as he told, the pillar being surprisingly stable.

“Tilt your head and look down to the right”

Once again, you follow his instruction and he hums in satisfaction before pushing the button on the camera twice.

click

Your warm face turned into a smile, laughing loudly from embarrassment when he observed the pictures on his display. He snickers quietly from shyness, a faint blush brushing across his features as his brown eyes were glued to the screen. Hyunjin peeks up from the camera, seeing you looking down at the backdrop that was filled with ashy grey shoeprints.

The sound of his footsteps got closer until you saw them in your periferal view causing you to look up at his tentative face. He smiles, displaying his pearly white teeth and crescent shaped eyes before stretching his hand out, feather light fingertips grazing your hot cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, your dainty gold earrings now visible. Hyunjin’s hand lingers on your jaw as he looks at you with a gleam in his eyes, you gulping loudly as your gaze lowers to his pouty pink lips. Leaning forward, Hyunjin tilts his head, attaching his lips onto yours, your heart skipping a beat from the comforting feeling of having him close to you.

You drop the fragile twig on the floor, kissing him back by pursing your lips and tilting your head as well. The romantic tension that has been bubbling on the surface everytime you met had finally subsided, now the air overflowed sexual tension.

Cupping his blushed cheeks, you deepen the kiss my licking his plump bottom lip, coaxing his tongue that eventually slipped into your mouth. His hands were firmly planted on your waist, pulling you closer to his body that radiated heat in the already scorching summer weather.

The two tongues danced around in a impatient manner, the two of you dreaming of this moment since meeting. Hyunjin’s hands roamed over all the valleys of your body, placing his hands on the bottom of your butt, pulling you even closer, close enough to feel his semi-erection against your abdomen. Your eyes spring open in realisation, your body melting in his arms as you felt the effects of the deep kiss, the effects being you unable to control the wet patch that was forming on your underwear, nothing but the thin fabric seperating it from the air due to you wearing a skirt.

Pulling away from the kiss, your hot breath and a line of saliva was the only thing that seperated you and Hyunjin. You shielded your face from his twinkling eyes, you glancing at the blonde boy through the gaps between your fingers. His two hands grip your wrists, pulling your hands down as he smiles widely

“Don’t hide that pretty face”

Hyunjin giggles, your chuckles following shortly after. The boy grips your wrist tightly, walking backwards as he looks intensely into your eyes, his back falling against the couch as you sit down on the couch on your knees, he looks at you for a moment before attaching his lips again, pushing you down and hovering above you. The wet sounds of the sloppy kiss fills your ear, you helplessly rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. His fingertips trailed down your chest, tracing small circles on the inside of your thigh before plunging down under your skirt, grazing the wet spot on your underwear. The both of you smile into the kiss.

“Can I?” Hyunjin says, momentarily pulling away from your sweet lips and tugging on the edge of your panties. You nod shyly, not believing that this is happening.

His lanky fingers run up and down your wet folds as you put your hand at the back of his neck, pulling his blushing face closer to yours and pursing your lips to kiss him sensually. Hyunjin’s fingers gently brush up against your clit that was swollen from excitement, sending shivers down your spine.

You knew this was wrong, the door wasn’t even locked meaning that anyone could walk in at any moment but the way lips felt on yours made a thousand fireworks ignite, sparking from your chest. Wrapping your hand around his wide wrist, you guide his fingers down to your sopping entrace, your entire body craving him inside of you.

Hyunjin places once last peck on your soft lips before looking at you with concern, asking for permission with his fluffy brown eyes. You nod, your eyelashes gently fluttering over your eyes. His middle finger slips into you with ease, shortly followed by a second finger from seeing how good your cunt swallowed his digits, your essence coating them. A faint gasp escapes your lips as his fingers felt around your velvety walls, the whole situation still feeling like a dream.

“D-does it feel good?”

“mhm!” you hum, nodding your head as your grasp around his wrist tightens everytime he curls his fingers upwards. Small whimpers came from you as his fingers started pumping in and out, the blond boy chuckling at your reaction.

“Did you think I was innocent?”

The question lingers in the air as you look at him in the eyes.

“Y-yes,,,” just as the question you let the answer hang in the air as Hyunjin hummed, being knuckles deep into you and curling his fingers upwards once more, making you choke on your own moan. Hyunjin nodded slowly, glancing down at your body as he thought.

“It’s because,,, because you’re shy,, different from the others.” You added quickly, filling the silence that was soon interupted by your whimpers as the so called ‘innocent boy’ started circling your sensitive bud with his thumb.

“I think you’re different from the others, you make me like this baby”

Hyunjin said, seconds later crashing his lips against yours, his tongue attacking yours. He retracted his fingers, the tips coated in your juices and glistening in the sunlight. You whined inbetween kisses, the feeling of being empty leaving you disappointed. Hyunjin’s veiny hands trailed up your stomach, pulling the croptop up and resting it just above your boobs, your white bra exposed.

Hyunjin pulled away from the kiss, the both of you breathless as the kisses you exchanged were anything but light. His two damp fingers made their way to his mouth, licking them with a slight smirk on his lips. You could go crazy from the sight alone, his big brown eyes turning blank with lust. Not being able to control yourself any longer, you sat up on your knees and pulled off the top, unclasping your bra while you’re at it. As the fabric hit the floor, Hyunjin’s eyes darted to your bare tits, the wind from the air conditioner stiffening your two sensitive buds. You looked at him with a jumbled expression, him staring at your nipples for what seemed like an eternity. You hummed softly, causing him to snap back into reality, the blond boy pulling the black hoodie up from his head, displaying the defined muscles on his abdomen. You wanted him, you wanted him so bad.

Your knees hit the floor with a thump as looked up at Hyunjin, knealing between his two legs and watching the tent in his loose shorts grow.

“Do you really want to do this,, y/n,, you don’t have t-”

You hushed before speaking.

“Don’t worry, Hyunjin” you say with a stern voice making Hyunjin shiver, not knowing if it’s from your tone of voice or the way his name rolled of your tongue.

The blonde boy grabbed the small camera that was resting on the table, you looked up at him with confusion before smiling at his pleading eyes that met yours. You nodded, knowing exactly what he wanted to do and giving him permission since you never knew if he’d get to see you like this ever again.

You hook your two hands on the sides of his shorts and underwear, pulling the fabric down as Hyunjin awkwardly lifts his hips up from the couch for a moment, allowing you to slide the both garments down in one nimble motion. His veiny length sprung out, the tip hitting his abdomen for a moment before resting infront of your eyes, a bead of precum already leaking from his delicate slit. You gulp, the task of sucking him off suddenly seeming daunting. Hyunjin must have noticed since his face turned concerned, a half smile flashing across his lips.

“y/n,, you don’t have to-aghh!”

Hyunjin was cut of by his own breathy moan, your pursed lips wrapping around his leaking tip, licking small kitten licks before sinking deeper down his impressive length. Hyunjin’s blonde hair fell out of his face when his head rolled back in pleasure, resting it against the back of the rustic couch.

“f-fuck y/n,,, just- just like that”

He hummed out, his sweet voice intoxicated with desire. Your tongue swirled around his pretty red tip, simultaneously stroking the part doesn’t fit inside of your wet mouth. Multiple shutters of the camera was heard, his hand barely stable enough to hold it due to the pleasure that was shooting through his core. It didn’t take long before his dick twitched against you lips, your cheeks hollowed as bob up and down his girth. His eyes rolled back into his skull as his hand went down to cup your cheek, your eyes stinging with tears as you choked around him. Pulling off with a pop, his dick glimmered as a heavy layer of saliva rested on it, his already warm body turning hotter. He looks down at you, a smug half-smile errupting on his lips as he continued to stroke your cheek, his thumb grazing your cheekbone as he flicked through the photos on his camera, the half-smile now a full on expression of happiness. The two of you sat like that for a while, the silence engulfing the room as you observed his indescribable features. His sharp jawline contrasted with his soft skin that had a dust of rose pink across the cheeks, his moles adding to his charm.

“Fuck me, Hyunjin”

The words slipped out of your mouth, his brown shiny eyes widening before being overtaken by a blank gaze, placing the silver camera back on the tiny table.

“You thought I would stop here?”

Now it was your turn to be flustered, his sugary sweet voice interlaced with the cocky words making you even wetter then before, if that’s even possible. Without answering, he pulled you up to the couch by your hand and laying you down before realising what he forgot. The blond boy reached for the baggy backpack laying on the white floor, unzipping the front pocket and fishing out a condom. You nodded shyly, feeling your hands getting sweatier from nervousness, not really sure where to put them. Hyunjin noticed your gaze that was running all over the room, your body slightly tense. The boy snickered, ripping the shiny wrapping open with his hands where veins had started to become apparent.

“Something wrong?” He asks shyly, placing the condom on his leaking tip before rolling the rubber onto his length. You shake your head.

“J-just thinking,,,” you say, your voice fading out at the end.

“About?” His voice inhibiting a questionable tone as he holds himself up above you, his elbows on either side of your head.

“A-about,,, you”

That was a lie. You thought about how this would end up being disclosed to your company and your friends, Felix would snap your head if he found out that you slept with Hyunjin. Did it even have to be disclosed? Couldn’t it just be a secret between you and Hyunjin? As much as you wish that it could, it simply couldn’t. Not working in this industry.

Hyunjin smiled softly, his hand trailing down the curves of your body before lifting up the fabric of your skirt, his fingers pushing your panties aside and feeling your throbbing pussy once again. His caramel eyes looked into you the entire time.

Lifting himself up, he positioned the tip of his member at your sopping entrance, you chuckling softly as he gripped your hips but your chuckle was quickly replaced by a loud gasp, his dick stretching out your tight pussy better than you thought.

“Are you ok, y/n?”

He said softly, his dick not even halfway in but already jerking from your welcomingly wet and warm cunt wrapping around his crimson tip. You nodded, looking up at him.

“Pl-please,, keep going Hyunjin”

The blonde boy blushed, his ears turning red. Tightening the grip on your hips he fully entered you, you shutting your eyes tightly from the slightly painful but pleasurable experience. Glancing down at you, he had to use every bit of discipline to not pound into you. In his eyes you looked angelic. Your parted lips that we’re coated by saliva and the way your skirt bunched up around your waist made it feel like torture to be inside of you, not moving to let you adjust to his size.

“C-can I move?” He asks impatiently to which you smile, nodding and wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer to your warm body. Your breath hitched as he softly wraps his hand around your neck, him thinking he’d gone too far.

“I-im sorry! I-”

You hush him, placing your index finger over his plush pink lips.

“I’ll tell you if anything doesn’t feel good, alright?” You so desperatly wanted to place a “baby” at the end of the sentence, that nickname fitted him but being to scared to confess your feelings. Just because he wants you doesnt mean he loves you. Hyunjin nodded like an excited puppy, finally getting the permission of moving and feeling your clenched walls around his length, his one hand still wrapped around your throat.

His thrusts were slow, filled with passion which only worsened your longing for him, the longing of him being yours. Small whimpers dripped from between your parted lips, the moans being mixed with Hyunjin’s low grunts and sounding like a melody. You peeked up at the model-like boy, his expression being synonymous to pleasure. The movements eventually quickened, his long cock hitting your cervix with every thrust, making you put your hands behind his back, your fingernails digging into his soft honey skin. His previously closed eyes fluttered open, watching you with a soft gaze through his fierce eyes. You smiled and he smiled back before his gaze drifted away from yours.

“Y-you feel so good y-y/n,,, you’re an angel”

Chuckling and moaning at the same time, his praise gave you a sense of security but also a sense of lust, wanting to coax out even more dangerously sweet words from his pretty mouth.

“Go faster,,, Hyunjin”

You gasped out, the pleasure starting to pick up it’s pace. The sound of skin slapping against each other bounced off the white walls in the big studio, the old sofa creaking ever so often from the blond boys powerful thrusts. Hyunjin would never get tired of hearing you say his name, never.

The knot in your stomach signaled your impending orgasm as your walls were stretched out. You pleaded him to not stop, your voice sounding frail as you neared your sweet release. The hot tempeture wasn’t helping the situation, sweat beading underneath Hyunjins headband, soaking the two strands of blonde locks that hanged infront of his face.

“F-fuck,, y/n you’re so pretty with my hands wrapped around your throat, fuck-”

A loud groan escaped his lips, the pleasure of your wet pussy against his rock-hard length getting too much, Hyunjin having to hold back until you came, not wanting to appear selfish. It wasn’t long until you felt your legs shaking around him, your toes curling as the squeaky sound from the couch increased along with the speed of Hyunjin’s thrusts, the rubber not giving him as much intimacy as he would have liked but the visual of you lying beneath him, squirming away from bliss and softly moaning made up for it.

“I think- i think I’m cumming, s-shit Hyunjin, I’m cumming”

The words spilled from you, quickly followed by a incoherent mumbling of his name before a wave of hot flashed through your entire body, your walls clenching around him as your erotic juices coated his twitching cock. You held your hands against your face that was lightly coated with sweat but before you could come down from your high Hyunjin pinned your hands above your head by your wrists, him letting out a growl before his cum filled the tip of the condom. The both of you rode out your powerful orgasm, your moans softening as the intense feeling subsided, Hyunjin shivering with his last thrust before pulling out.

The light sound of the air conditioner was now accompanied with heavy panting, your chest heaving as Hyunjin softly pulled down your skirt and ran his hand through his blonde hair, pushing the stray hairs away before rolling off the cumfilled condom and throwing it on the floor, the rubber landing on the dark clothing that were pooling next to the leather couch. The young boy lays down beside you, your eyes fixed on the ceiling as you faded away in a million thoughts, still trying to process what just happened. You turned your head against his, feeling his lingering gaze on your face and you swore you could hear your heart beat in your ears as his cheekbones lifted, his now cherry red lips turning into a soft smile.

“Do you like me?”

You choked on your own saliva, coughing and sitting up in panic making Hyunjin worry, him patting you on the back as he sat up next to you.

“I-im sorry,, I shouldn’t have- y/n,, so-sorry”

He mutters out as you start laughing, he looking confused at your chuckling figure.

“T-that’s,,, quite the direct question” you say, clearing your throat before continuing. “I don’t know Hyunjin. You know that this isn’t possible”

You saw his previously twinkling eyes turn blank, his heart sinking.

“Uhm,,, n-no totally not,,, I just said it to-”

He tried to play cool, brushing off the fact that he didn’t get the answer he so longed for. His gaze turning away from your angelic face.

“But I like you”

You spoke quietly, your voice cracking at the end. Hyunjin turned back to you.

“Why wouldn’t it work then?” he asked with a confused voice. You sighed

“Hyunjin, do you not know who you are? We fucked in a building where you own half of the rights, you work with famous people and your work is in every magazine, don’t you understand?”

He stayed silent for a while, comtemplating on what to say before grabbing your clammy hand.

“Do you only see me for my career?”

You shake your head, trying to catch eye contact with the blonde boy but failing as he stares down at your small hand in his grasp.

“Hyunjin, I love you but this feels way to quick,,, I can’t just-”

“I’ve known about you for a while, y/n. Do you know why we even worked together in the first place?”

Hyunjin speaks calmly, a thin string of sadness threading through his voice. You shake your head, looking at him but he looking away.

“I reached out to Bangchan first”

You weren’t surprised, only confused. What did he see in you?

“I know it might seem,, rushed! But if- if we both like each other then we can make it work. Please don’t worry about our reputations, you are more than your career y/n even if it means the world to you.”

Hyunjin hesitated finishing his sentence, feeling sick to his stomach from the fear of rejection. You withdrew your hand, instead opening your arms and hugging him to which he smiled and hugged you back, the both of you falling back on the couch facing each other.

“I think I love you,,, like,,, I really love you”

Hyunjin brushed away a strand of hair from your face, his tender eyes meeting yours.

“And I love you too, y/n”

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

@vogueinnie @that-anxious-bisexual @putmetogetheragain13 @hyunsluvv @lawleighette @meow-minho @minaamhh @ohmysparkle @hwangi @rindomo @fleeingreality @nycol-ie @jisungsplatforms @p0t4t0don14ll @skzstanlol

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thepeakyfckingblinders · 4 years

Text

Never Again || Thomas Shelby x reader

credits to @saralou23 for the gif

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “can I request a fic where the reader is found unconscious or faints in the shop or something and tommy freaks out? I just find protective tommy so ❤️💓💟!! Thank you, your writing is absolutely INCREDIBLE” (Thank you so much honeybun, you’re making me blush, pls, forgive me for being late ❤️)

Warnings: swearing, bossy Tommy, basically Tommy freaking out and being overprotective, me always loving him with all of my mangled soul

Author’s notes:

I hope you are okay darlings, I love you, please stay safe ♡

I’m so sorry for being this late, I have no excuses, forgive me. Also the end sucks, but I’m struggling with my writing lately, so, sorry again.

I love protective Thomas so much, he’s an ass, but he’s a softie, and I’m gonna lose my mind some day.

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham’s gelid air hit your sensitive skin with no mercy as soon as your red mary-janes crossed the doorway of the Garrison, only to disgracefully sink into the greyish muddy loam in which the whole of Small Heath seemed to be covered.

Your fingers felt like rigid appendages burdening your already wearied arms, while you tried your best to wrap them around your coat’s edges, in a disperate effort to keep that warm tissue on your bulging clavicles left exposed by the woollen dress you were wearing. No matter how many heavy clothes you decided to put on, that implacable cold still succeeded in making you feel constantly out of forces, debilitated to the core; it had always been that way, since you were nothing more than a little girl obliged to spend one every two months confined in your bedroom, afflicted by incredibly high fever and sometimes even bronchitis.

Truth was that your body had never got used to England’s humid weather, yet, even though you poor healt had previously put you in danger, for your sake, thanks to the enormous progresses made by medicine in the past fifteen years, it was now easy to fight against the ruthless chill of those endless winters. Plus, since the earliest days of your attendence, your wardrobe had been perpetually refreshed with high-quality pieces perfectly in step with the times, for your fiancée had been literally covering you in furs and duvets of all kinds, concerned as he was that you could’ve eventually caught another bad fever, whose deathly consequences he had already experienced on his own thick skin. And for no reason in the world he would’ve even risked to lose you too.

So, as everybody could’ve easily predicted, Thomas was perennially paying attention to your wellbeing: the most famous specialists from inside and outside the United Kingdom had come directly to your country house; if one thing could be taken for granted, it was that your medications would always be settled on your side cabinet, together with a glass of fresh water, every day and every night; and, come hell or high water, he would accompany you during your routine visits to the hospital, even when it meant leaving all of his business without any prior warning.

Needless to say, you were perfectly able to do those things on your own -pheraps except for getting a crowd of world renowned doctors in your living room- and you sure as hell had tried to persuade him that there was no need at all for being so preoccupied all the time; still, he was Tommy Shelby, he simply couldn’t help it.

The concern for his loved ones’ lives kept stealing his sleep, even on those nights when there was no trace of imminent dangers on the horizon, it kept excoriating the insides of his drained brains, to the point that, more than once, you’d had to sleep alone in your immense king-size bed or reach for him in his study, curling up on one of his uncomfortable armchairs, ready to appease his fears as best you could. In short, for as much as you needed him to relax, you were still able to understand his protective behavior, against which, as a matter of fact, no one could do much; thus you at least tried not to give him more reasons to be worried by paying some extra attention to all those small things you could solve without Tommy even knowing about it. Regularly taking your iron tablets, for example. Nonetheless, it had now been already a week since the Peaky Blinders had started a brand new business involving in effect every metalworking factory in and around Birmingham, and the whole family, you and Tom included, had been so turbulently tied up with work to let every other thought and need slither on the back burner. As a direct consequence, your doctor’s latest prescription was unfortunately left lying on the bottom of your drawer, that being the fourth day in a row you’d spent without taking those pills, and, even though everything appeared to be going well until then, that one Thursday morning your period eventually came and stroke the fatal blow, having you feel so faint and aching that, all of a sudden, the few metres separating your side of the street from the betting shop seemed to implausibly dilate right under your blurred vision, a vexing sense of nausea assaulting your empty stomach led you to lean against a lamppost, your skin still crawling beneath all those heavy tissues. Dizziness and lethargy almost took over your sore mind, before you shook your head with an abrupt move in a bid to dispel those unpleasent sensations; clients would’ve arrived in less than a hour, Esme had taken John’s kids on a brief fieldtrip, Michael was already in his office, the boys were making their usual rounds of the mills, Finn and Isaiah were dealing with a couple folks in need back at the Garrison and Polly was nowhere in sight, which made you the only available blinder for the opening and, with Friday’s race approaching, there was no way the box-office could remain shut. Hence, more determined than ever, you chocked down the knot forming in your throat due to queasiness and just forced youself to put one foot in front of the other onto the dusty road, until you reached the shop door, not without the risk of tripping over multiple times in the process. Your frozen fingers clutched to the small side-wall now carring all of your weight, whilst your lungs tried to let in as much air as possible. And it worked, each plodding breath seemed to fight your sickness, also your heartbeat was gradually slowing down, thus you shut your eyelids and continued to inhale deeply for a full minute, before your trembilng hand managed to finally turn the key in the lock, giving you free access to the place.

However, the small click produced by the latch closing again did not live to reach your ears, for they were already brimful of ominous hisses, in a scant moment a bulk of hypnotic grey worms prevented you from seeing anything else, they relentlessly squirmed in front of your dilated pupils, that repulsing view sending brutal shooks straight to your clenched stomach, again. And, before you even had a chance to realize what was going on, your brain completely blacked out.

~ ~ ~

Words would not be sufficient to describe the fright taking over Arthur’s features the second your inert silhouette entered his line of sight. Just returned from their daily patrol, he had indeed noticed a small crowd waiting outside the office, cursing and fussing because of the lacked opening, and that alone had been weird enough for him to punch and kick his way up to the entrance, profanities spilling from his mustached mouth every time somebody’s elbow digged into his ribcage, inducing him to hit back so to stand his ground, only to eventually find himself powerless in front of that ghastly scene. It took him a while to recover from the shock, yet the eldest Shelby eventually regained control of his limbs and moved towards your shape with a single step.

“Polly! Pol, come here, for God’s sake!” Those hoarse yells filled the room, reverberating through the brickwalls, so loud that they could’ve been heard from the other side of the city, Arthur fell on his knees right beside you, gently placing a hand under your nape in order to lift your head. Blind panic streaming in his veins kept him for thinking clearly, he didn’t know what to do, thus he simply shook you from your shoulders, hoping in vain to see your eyes fly back open, but your neck just bent backwards.

“Where the hell is that bloody woman when I need her?!” he grunted those words in between his teeth while tigthening his grip on you, then his chest raised in a sharp move: “Jesus Christ, Polly!” He shouted once more, this time conveying all of his breath and blood towards his larynx, his abrasive voice shriveled and insisted on the last letters of his aunt’s name, until swift strides frantically hit the creaking steps, announcing Polly’s arrive. Her eyes struggled to remain open, her left palm was pressed against her forehead in a silly attempt to soothe the tremendous headache resulted from the previous night’s booze, she didn’t even have the time to put proper clothing on, since her mad niece was apparentely going berserk. “You, son of a bastard-” cursed words died underneath her tongue when she understood what was going on, soon her feet took on a life of their own, as they picked up their peace, leading her next to your body now held in Arthur’s arms.

“She’s freezing, Pol, she’s a fucking chunk of ice!” Hiccoughs shattered his worried cries, he almost whined, shifting his gaze from yours to Polly’s face over and over again, she, on the other hand, used the whole lenght of her right arm to clear in one smooth motion the closest desk. “Quick, lay her here” The deafening noise produced by those items colliding with the pavement barely grazed her hears, whilst she nodded to herself in the effort to impose some order on her obfuscated head, searching for a prompt solution that was late in coming, to the point that Finn beat it to the draw and stormed in, pointing a loaded gun to each corner of the room with fear in his cerulean irises. “What the hell’s going on?” That hysterical question echoed through the place, even though the young boy was finding it hard to get his breath, due to the crazy run he had made to reach the shop immediately after hearing that insane screaming. Nonetheless, in the space of an instant, he saw you as well and fell utterly silent, violent dismay caught him off guard, his wide eyes hesitated on your motionless figure; all of a sudden he didn’t know what to think, nor he could get the thought of your death out of his brains.

“My God, she’s as pale as death” Finn let his mind talk through that throttled murmur, regretting it right away, for silty goosebumps crawled on his skin under the pungent pressure of his brother’s instantaneous lethal glare. “Don’t talk shit, kid! Just fucking go and get Tom!”

The redhead didn’t waste any time, he somehow managed to recollect his guts and steadily disappeared behind the door previously left open. While struggling for air and internally searching for the right words to say in front of Thomas, Finn covered the whole distance between the office and the Garrison. Labored gasps coming out of his slightly parted lips in louder groans as he slammed the heavy pub’s doors open, using only his strongest shoulder; both Harry and Isaiah watched him run towards the back room where Tommy was going through the books, they did not dare spill a word and, after all, the boy didn’t even look in their direction, such was his concentration. Still, once he reached the place, all of a sudden his tongue felt dry, his well-organised speech faded away.

“Finn?! What’s wrong?” Tom’s icy eyes were now staring at him through his round glasses, the paper he’d been reading was instantly dropped, although his tone remained steady. “Y-you need to come, now! She... she’s-” A frown formed upon Tommy’s marble face at his little brother’s furious rambling, something wasn’t right, that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t able to keep up with those hasty and stuttered sentences, so he approached him, putting both his hands on Finn’s shoulders in order to give him a little shove and maybe get some decent information. “Breathe, kid, and tell me what’s going on” That deep, adamant tone somehow sounded scarier than usual roaring inside the boy’s head, hence anxiety definitively won him over, gaining complete control of his mouth too. “It’s Y/n! I don’t fucking know, Tom, s-she looks dead!” All at once, time and space seemed to collapse around him, one single second dilated, covering the space of a whole lifetime beyond his vacant blue irises now fixed on an undetermined spot of the white wall behind Finn’s back. A gruesome, yet familiar sensation raided his petrified body, it felt like having a beast’s fangs gnawing his throat off, lacerating his flesh to the bone, he could sense every little laceration, his chest being plundered, till even his sable heart was eradicated and then mauled. A strangled wheeze barely lived through his plump lips, that being the only sound he uttered, then his black pupils shrinked and immediately twitched, nailing his sibiling’s gaze. Without receiving an order from his brain, his fists violently gripped Finn’s jacket at the height of his biceps, bringing him a span away from his gnashed teeth with a sharp pull. “Where?” He snarled liked a rabid dog, striking, if possible, geater terror in the young man who struggled to spit an almost inaudible “The shop”, before being shoved against the doorframe as Tommy dodged him and rushed out.

~ ~ ~

Polly held the bottle of her almond parfume she’d just put under your nostrils as if her life depended on it, Arthur’s rough palm, instead, began to pat your pasty cheek. “C’mon, love, wake up! Don’t play games, c’mon!” The dorsum of that same hand now poking the left side of your face, and then going back to the other, at incredible speed. You started to feel your face again when his nudges grew in intensity, until he was practically slapping you; soon a tremendous metallic taste invaded your mouth, or rather, you finally sensed it, whilst your eyelids battled against gravity to get back up. Arthur noticed it, he detected that brief flinch and it felt like being pampered with a fresh breeze after days of unsustainable heat. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m having a stroke” His tone held extreme urgency as he grasped for air, tugging with two fingers at his shirt collar; sure, he was great at knocking people off, maybe the best, yet, unfortunately, after that he’d never tried to bring somenody back with the living.

Blinding light rended your shrouded eyes, everything appeared blurred to the point that you couldn’t distinguish Polly’s features, although she was right beside you; nor your hearing was working, since the loud thud produced by the wooden door hitting the brickwall, and then your name barked by your fiancée’s coarse voice, sounded muffled to your ears. With a superhuman effort you succeeded in tilting your face towards the entrance, you recognized the navy-blue suit Thomas had chosen to wear earlier in the moring, still those nebulous images reached your brains with extreme delay, it was like watching vague movie scenes stream in slow motion. Your eyelids blinked as if a plumbeous burden was anchored to them, each flutter seemed to last a full minute, so that you perceived Tom coming to you in multiple shattered motions, while he kept calling you. The moment Tommy furiously jostled against Arthur, in order to take his place by the desk, you gradually went back to see and hear clearly, now being able to seize pure dread sailing those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “Thank goodness, y/n” His big palms envelopped both your cheeks, slightly squeezing them as he lift your neck, revealing all of his hidden delicacy that you, and you only, were able to bring out. “Y/n, love, talk to me” That order came out like a prayer, his voice betraying him once too often, his fingers shaking with worry, while one of his hands held your chin and the other went to caress your locks. Those loving strokes brushed against your skin, slowly infusing a little warmth into your gelid body, he touched you with the unbearable fear of watching you pass away in between his arms, having him struggle to breathe properly. “Do you hear me?” a single, salty drop fell from his long eyelashes and poured your lower lip, you heard his voice crack, distorting, until it became nothing more than a faint whine: “Please, love, talk to me” When his forehead pressed against yours, he finally gave in to the tears that had been held back with drastic ostination, shutting his eyes for a few instants he allowed brutal sobs to trounce his already aching chest. However, that moment of raw weakness was soon restrained, so that you returned to stare into his blue irises. Then, a small grin crossed your pale mouth and, even though your throat felt like gasoline on fire, preventing you from pronouncing a single syllable, you managed to guide your tiny hand to cup his sharp cheekbone. A burning kiss was pressed on its dorsum, before Tommy completely leant into your touch, giving you a look halfway between relief and disperation, he covered your hand with his own, holding it tight. “You’re okay, you’re safe” Those soft murmurs escaped his lips, probably aimed to placate the axphyziating terror still intoxicating his veins. Indeed, as hard as it was to conceive for everybody in that room, although you were the one just recovering from a sudden collapse, Tommy was now the one trembling like a fallen leaf, his arms rested on each side of your shape, sustaining his weight, as he barely stood on his own two feet. Slowly, you regained the necessary strenght to lift your bust, leading him to flutter in your direction, promptly enlacing his forearms around your waist in order to support your movements. “Hold onto me, darling, take it slow” His raspy voice was still unsteady and full of concern, he was holding his breath out of fear, gazing at you with wide eyes and tightening the grip on your hips as if to make sure that you wouldn’t vanish in his palms. You, on the other hand, gave him a rassuring smile, caressing his face mutliple times and placing a brief kiss on his mouth. “I’m fine, Tommy, I’m here with you” you eventually spoke close to his ear so to keep that conversation between the two of you “Let go, my love, I’m here” Your lips accidentally brushed against his forehead once he listened to you and abandoned himself to your tender embrace, gradually drowning into your soft chest while his arms clung on to your figure, his fingertips almost piercing the thick material of your dress as your cheek covered his head, totally annihilating the distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. Never again”.

tag list: @spidey-pal, @shadow-of-wonder, @stassaurus, @peachlle, @livvtheangel, @myjbphase, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest, @vxxn128, @keithseabrook27, @spaghettirogers, @writingstudent, @hp-hogwartsexpress , @eggingamazinglove, @geeksareunique, @cailoleaf, @simonsbluee , @hereforsmutandfluff, @starxtt, @jenepleurepasbaby, @staygold-bebold, @marvelschriss, @captivatedbycillianmurphy

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gaysimpsstuff · 3 years

Text

Flightless Birds Chapter Two: Courtship Of Care

Chapter One Here

Chapter Three Here

Chapter Four Here

Chapter Five Here

Summary: After Y/n’s encounter with Hawks, things in their life start to change. They have a creeping feeling that someone is watching them, and they get mysterious gifts and letters.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Stalking, toxic behavior, mention of suicide, mentions of clowns, multiple fourth wall breaks, hospitals, mentions of blood, violence, mentions of surgeries

Other: Sukaibado park is not a real place, however, Nishi Ward in Fukuoka is a real place. This was meant to be longer but I hit the word limit, so it’ll get pushed to the next chapter! Sorry! If you have any critics or questions don’t hesitate to let me know! I want this to be the best it possibly can be for your entertainment!!

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @cathy8taffy @1small-frogs @catcherisvibin @waffleareniceandfluffy @mandalorian-baby-bird @theblueslytherin @assassinslittlesister (lemme know if you want to join or leave the taglist)

“Well, she’s clearly a bitch.”

You laughed at Izanagi’s reaction to the woman that yelled at you. You were in the back of his car, as sometimes your wings would get in the way of Izanagi’s driving, so it was just easier to sit like this.

“I mean- you’re not wrong.” You chuckled. “I’m just glad Hawks managed to get rid of her!”

“What’s he like?” Izanagi asked. “Hawks, is he as awesome in person?”

“You’re a simp.” You teased, laughing as he spluttered to defend himself. “I guess he’s pretty chill. He’s a lot taller than I thought he’d be, though.”

You’d chosen not to tell your friend about the creepy vibes you’d gotten from the hero, it was probably nothing anyway. He was a bird, like you, so he was probably just curious about you also being a bird. Even though you were a Parakeet and he was theorized to be a Red-Tailed Hawk. Animal quirks were uncommon, and among the animal quirks, you mostly saw dogs and cats, even goats were more common than birds. Plus, it wasn’t exactly a good idea to tell your best friend his celebrity crush was a creep.

“How much taller?” he asked

“I don’t know… maybe about four- no, five inches taller than me.”

“Damn- and with me being shorter than you by two inches that’s- fuck he’s a lot taller than me.” he murmured.

“Like I said before. You’re a simp.”

“Shut uppp!” he whined.

The rest of your day was peaceful (if anything including Izanagi could be considered ‘peaceful’), and you were grateful you only lived a block away from Izanagi, it made it a lot easier to get home. Thinking back, maybe you should have taken a moment or two to stop. Stop and look around, maybe then you would have seen the flash of red against the darkening sky, or felt his eyes bearing into your back. Maybe then you could have stopped everything, but it was too late now.

Sleeping wasn’t always comfortable. Beds that were shaped and built like actual bird’s nests were too expensive for you to afford with your salary, plus it was just way too big to fit in your tiny studio. Which meant you had to deal with the tiny bed and all the different ways your body could hurt in the morning.

You sat up, groaning and patting around your bed to find your phone, finally locating it on your nightstand. You grabbed it, turned it on, and scanned your lock screen, taking in your notifications. Thank fuck it was Saturday, and you didn’t have to go to work. Thank fuck again that your days off were on the weekends. Thank fuck a third time that Izanagi invited you to go to the park with him and your other friend, Kouten Yuu. Thank fuck a fourth and final time the messages were fresh and not sent an hour ago, which gave you plenty of time to get ready.

“Welp,” you muttered. “Time to get up and fuck the day.” you forced yourself into a sitting position, stumbling out of bed and almost immediately flopping back onto the mattress again. Maybe today wouldn’t be the easiest day to fuck. You sighed, pushing yourself up again and stretching. Your wings had been crushed by your body’s natural sleeping position, so being able to spread them wide in the mornings helped with preventing stiff wing muscles. That meant less cramps! Yay!

“Sukaibado park, huh? Guess Kouten and Izanagi are hoping to get me in the sky today.” Sukaibado park was a popular park in Nishi Ward, Fukuoka, that had laws protecting people with flying quirks, allowing them to take to the say in the surrounding area. It certainly helped that the park was located near the beach.

You stood up, grabbing some clean clothes off the ground from your drawer and putting them on. You glanced out the window as you dressed. You let out a sigh, grateful you could afford a home in such a beautiful area of Japan. You and Izanagi lived across from Sukaibado Park and had a great view of both park and beach just beyond it. In reality, you shouldn’t be able to afford this place, but since the flat itself was so small, it was just in the range of affordable.

You quickly brushed your hair and teeth, and texted Kouten, asking him to pick up something for you to eat on his way there. It was kind of a ritual between the three of you, everyone brought something to the table. Kouten brought the food, Izanagi brought his guitar, and you would bring your amazing singing voice! The three of you were practically a band already!

Aw who you are you trying to kid? Izanagi just picked up the guitar after quitting drums, trumpet, and piano, and your ‘singing’ was mostly chirps. It was a miracle Kouten hung out with you guys, let alone fed your poor asses. You grabbed your keys and opened the front door-

Huh.

What?

A small box was waiting for you on your doorstep, unlabeled except for neat cursive writing spelling out your name. You picked up the box and put it on the nearest surface inside, choosing to ignore it. Today was for flying, stretching your wings, pretending to like Izanagi’s music, and devouring whatever Kouten brought you.

As expected, Kouten and Izanagi were already there, waiting for you at one of the picnic tables with a full course meal on the table. You could smell it from the park entrance, and were at the table in an instant. It would have startled the boys if they’d not already grown used to it.

“Fuck, Kouten what did you bring this time?” you asked, looking up from the food for a moment to take in your friend’s appearances. Izanagi was dressed casually as usual. White t-shirt, blue jeans, and a grey sweatshirt wrapped around his waist. His long, light blue hair tied up in a ponytail as he chowed down on a large chicken wing. But do not be fooled- despite looking like an innocent UwU smol bean, Izanagi was a force to be reckoned with. Do not ever comment on his short stature or this man will kick you into worlds beyond.

Kouten was the complete opposite of Izanagi, both in looks and personality. Today, he’d adorned a light blue sweater and black pants, and even painted his nails yellow. Kouten’s hair was short and super curly, and his eyes were a startling green color. His resting bitch face and six feet of height was usually enough to scare most people off, however, Kouten was the sweetest man you’d ever met. Best hugs, best advice, most importantly…

“FRIED CHICKEN!” you shouted ecstatically. Of course! For such a beautiful day, Kouten would bring his best food. “Oh thank fuck for the fifth time! I’ve been craving this all week!”

You sat down, hurriedly muttering ‘itadakimas’ before snatching as many pieces of chicken as you possibly could and devouring them. Who gave a flying fuck if you looked like a cannibal? The chicken was delicious! Besides, you weren’t a chicken, you were a parakeet. There was a difference.

“Woah, hey, slow down a bit, Y/n” Kouten cautioned. “You’re gonna give yourself a stomach ache! Don’t eat more than five-”

“Five?” Izanagi interrupted. “Pussy, no more than eight.”

“Eight?!” you stared at your blue-haired friend with wide-eyes and a stuffed mouth. “Pussy. No more than eleven.”

“ELEVEN?” Kouten shook his head. “Oh no, if you eat that many you’ll hurt yourself for sure aaand you’ve already eaten twelve. Why do I even bother?” he threw his hands up in defeat. You and Izanagi continued to argue about how much chicken was too much, ignoring poor Kouten. That’s pretty much how things usually went between the three of you, you and Izanagi being dumbasses and Kouten being the only sane person there.

After thirty minutes of eating, came Izanagi’s ear-bleeding ‘song’ about some girl he knew in high school. If only he’d tuned his guitar beforehand, maybe then it wouldn’t have felt like nails on a chalkboard to you and Kouten. You lasted eight minutes before you finally had to put a stop to the terror he reigned on your poor ears. Then came the best part of the day, flying! Izanagi and Kouten would chat about random things on the ground as you soared high above them.

Flying is difficult to describe, but thankfully, whenever you are asked, you have an answer.

It’s liberation, ecstasy, and anxiety. The liberation was not being bound by the laws that chain others to the dirt. Being able to freely soar, reaching places others could only dream of being. The ecstasy was speed, dipping and diving and looping around the clouds. Being able to fly right through those fluffy bundles of water. The anxiety was falling, failing and getting yourself hurt.

That one day you’ll fly to high, and your wings of wax will melt. That the sun’s bright light will blind you to the incoming plane of reality and kill you. The knowledge that you wouldn’t even realise it, falling is just like flying.

It’s beautiful and you wouldn’t give it up for the world. In the sky, it’s calm. People don’t stare, or whisper. No one bumps into you, the world is all yours when you’re in the air. Even if you struggle to breathe, it always feels worth it. Worth the soreness in your wings after a long flight, worth the hammering of your heart after just pulling up in time to not hit the ground, worth it all. It’s exhilarating.

Word of advice for you free birds, fly while you still can, you never know when you might get caught up in a cage.

Landing was always the most difficult part. Hawks always seemed to be able to do it with ease, but you knew from experience that it was a lot more difficult than it looks. You could feel your whole body float for a second before you dove down. The ground rising to meet your weightless body faster and faster, before your folded wings extended, and you tilted them upwards, carrying your body up again, as you swooped above the ground, righting yourself and landing with just a few flaps of your multi-colored wings.

“Best part of the day~” you cooed, stretching your arms as you folded your wings behind your back. Kouten and Izanagi looked at you in awe.

“I wish my quirk would let me fly.” Izanagi grumbled. “I can’t do shit with light manipulation.” he flicked his wrist, forming a small crystal of light in his palm. It flickered for a moment before vanishing.

“Come on, don’t be so hard on yourself!” you sat down next to your friend, patting his back sympathetically. “I think your quirk is beautiful! I still have that little star hanging on my wall!”

When you and Izanagi were still littler children, and his quirk was still in development, he’d made a small star out of light. It would glow when you touched it, and it was like having an actual star in your hand. It was so shiny, transparent but sparkly, filled with a dazzling array of rainbow specks, a faint glow dappling your walls with miniature constellations.

“Yeah, Izanagi. Think about it for a sec.” Kouten offered. “Your quirk is certainly better than mine. Being able to identify any flavor isn’t all that impressive. Helpful for my job, but not much other than that.” Izanagi looked up at Kouten, frown only deepening.

“If you really think that about your quirk, than you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.” he grumbled.

“Izanagi! Not the right time!” you glared at him, and he just shrugged you off.

“No seriously, even if your quirk has that single use, it’s still a use. You’ve made the best meals I’ve ever tasted. Remember Colonel Sanders? According to legend, that man wrote down the OG KFC recipe on a hill as he contemplated suicide. I’m pretty sure he had a quirk similar to yours. If his chicken was good enough to save his own life, then surely it’s saved others, right? Be like him.”

You softened, smiling at Izanagi. Even if he was a bit of an ass, he had a heart of gold. He’d never let any of his friends feel down. You were pretty sure he threatened to punch away your deathly fear of clowns. Not the clowns, but the fear itself. Weird, but touching.

“That.... was the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t understand how it’s touching, but it is. Thanks, man.” Kouten pulled Izanagi in for a hug, and you cooed. However, you guys were friends, so things really couldn’t stay wholesome.

“Gayyyy”

“Dude I’m literally bi.” Izanagi glared at you.

“Gayyyyyyyyy” you laughed, so did Kouten. Izanagi rolled his eyes, but eventually he too, chuckled a little.

“Yeah yeah yeah. Anyways I gotta go, I’ll the you two weirdos later, kay?” he grabbed his guitar, waving at the two of you.

“Later, buddy!” Kouten shouted after him, waving.

“Bye!” you smiled, waving him off before turning back to Kouten. “So what should we do?”

“Great suggestion, Kou, but we need something entertaining that we can do right now.

“Head to your place and watch YouTube?” he shrugged, and you nodded.

“Perfect plan. Knew I could count on you!” you laughed, helping Kouten clean up the mess on the picnic table before heading across the street to your flat. You keyed the door, opening it and walking in.

Kouten’s eyes immediately fell onto the package you’d received earlier. You’d just tossed it onto the coffee table half-hazardly.

“What’s that?” he asked curiously.

“I dunno really. I just found it on my doorstep.” you shrugged, sitting down and opening your laptop.

“Seems kinda creepy, it doesn’t have a return address.” he frowned. “It could have a tracking device in it- you should just throw it away.” you nodded, Kouten was probably right. He usually was. You promised to throw it away after a few Vine compilations.

You lied.

After Kouten left, you turned to the package. It had been hours since it was left on your doorstep, you were really hoping it wasn’t food or anything. You sat down on the edge of your bed with the package in your hands, slowly peeling the tape off and opening it.

You were… reasonably underwhelmed by the contents of the package. It was just a beanie hat. Yellow with a red feather embroidered on. Hawks merch. Maybe you’d accidentally ordered it? Or maybe Izanagi sent it to you. Yeah it was probably him. You’d have to thank him the next time you saw him.

You put the hat down on your nightstand, checking the time. Maybe you should make lunch. You believed it was the last of the unlabeled gifts. You were sorely mistaken.

The next day, there was another package.

“Seriously, Izanagi?” you grumbled. “Another?” you picked it up and brought it back inside, opening it hastily. You couldn’t lie, you were at least a little curious to what he’d gotten you this time.

A… bottle cap? No, five bottle caps.

“Fuckin weirdo.” you muttered, brushing it off and umping the caps next to the hat and continuing on with your day.

The third day, the package had a weird note attached to it, reading your coffee order from that morning. You pursed your lips, ripping the note apart in fear before opening the box. You screamed.

There was a dead squirell inside.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you dropped the box in your shock and fear, and the poor animal fell out onto your floor. You paused for a moment to take a deep breath. You crouched down next to the animal, poking it lightly. Maybe it was still alive?

Nope.

Dead.

Dead as fuck.

You shuddered, wrapping it up in a paper towel and taking it out back, holding a small funeral for it and burying it.

Who the fuck was sending you these things? It was clearly not Izanagi. He was an animal lover, and he’d never do this. You felt like throwing up, but for some reason (probably plot convenience), you didn’t say anything.

A few days later, something terrible happened.

You remembered your phone buzzing, and you sat up to pick it up. It was the middle of the night and you were trying to sleep. It was Izanagi. The fuck was he calling you for right now? You hit accept and pressed the cold screen to your ear.

“It’s 1:23 AM. Explain.” you growled into the phone.

“It’s Kouten- he was attacked! I- I’m taking him to the hospital right now, come quick! I’m taking him to Sanno Hospital near Fukuoka tower!” he exclaimed. You sat up, suddenly wide awake.

“What?”

“I’m driving, so I gotta put the phone down, but hurry!”

Beep

The call ended. You were already on your feet, pulling on clothes and grabbing your car keys. You rushed into your car and drove as fast as legally possible.

What the fuck happened? Kouten… attacked? By whom? Was he okay? What kind of injuries had he sustained? Was he concsious? Was he breathing? How had Izanagi found him? What the hell was going on? Was this related to your stalker?

Your mind buzzed with scenarios, all the way to Sanno Hospital, all the way across the parking lot, through the doors, as you talked to the man behind the counter, on the way to the ICU. Then your mind was blank again.

You sat next to Izanagi in the hallway, both of you sitting near a door with a large lit-up LED sign. Surgery in Progress. Your hands folded in your lap. You were so dizzy, what the fuck was happening? Myabe it was because you were tired, or still in shock, but it didn’t feel real.

Was Kouten really behind that door? Were doctors really slicing him open? Were you really here? You still felt the warmth of your blankets from just twenty-seven minutes before. Had it really been almost a half hour? It felt like it had just been a few seconds.

Nothing felt right.

“Hey.” you slowly turned your head around to look at Izanagoi. “You okay?” he asked. You sighed, shaking your head. “Do you want to hear what happened? Think that’ll make you feel better?”

You paused for a moment, slowly nodding. You didn’t want to speak. If you opened your mouth, you feared you’d let all the meals you’d eaten force their way up your throat.

“I got a text. It was from Kouten, he just sent his location. I didn’t know why, but I figured it was important. So I went there. I shouldn’t have taken my time. I found him in an alleyway near the tower, he was so still. I’d never seen him like that. He was- Kouten was soaked in blood. There was a knife lodged into his chest an I- I panicked. You know the rest I think.” he trailed off, looking away from you. Your eyes fell to the floor, still silent.

How many minutes had it been?

The next thing you knew, A doctor was speaking to you, saying something about successful surgery, how he was in recovery, how he needed rest. A moment later, you were standing outside Izanagi’s car. Numb. You decided with him silently to go back to his place and stay the night together. You could get your car in the morning.

Izanagi offered you his bed, and he would sleep on the couch. But you couldn’t sleep. At all. Your mind was racing. You jumped up when you heard the door creak open.

Oh.

It was Izanagi.

You patted the sheets next to you, and he crawled in with you. For a moment, you felt a spark of excitement in your cheeks, but it disappeared quickly, just like your consciousness now that he was here.

The next day, you still felt numb. Better, but still numb. You woke up with Izanagi’s arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried into the crook of your shoulder. Your wing flopped over him. You sat up, rubbing his face to wake him up. His eyes slowly blinked open, brown orbs looking up at you.

“Hey… Y/n.” he mumbled.

“Mornin’ Iza.” you turned around, checking the time. “Sorry, I still have to work.” you told him. He nodded, understanding. He drove you there, and promised to take you to the hospital after, so you could pick up your car. The entire day at work seemed so slow. Everyone dragged their conversations with you on for forever. Time was moving so slow. It felt like a century had passed when Izanagi picked you up.

You didn’t speak, he just took you to the hospital. Then, everything moved quick again. You were outside Kouten’s hospital room, holding Izanagi’s hand.

You almost didn’t want to go in. You stared at the ground, vision blurry. Izanagi squeezed your hand, re-grounding you.

“Ready?” he asked, looking at you with soft eyes.

“Never.” you chuckled breathlessly.

He nodded with you, opening the hospital room door and walking in with you.

You kept your eyes glued to the ground, feeling Izanagi tighten his grip on your hand. You could hear the beeping of the monitor, but you didn’t want to see it.

“Hey… guys.” Kouten. You ripped your gaze from the floor to direct it at the hospital bed. You felt a chill freeze your throat, choking you. Your friend was laying down in the bed, hooked up to tubes and machines, bandages covering most of his body, including one of his eyes. He looked tired and thin, unlike his usual cheerful manner.

“Hey, Kouten.” Izanagi managed to pull the words from his chest and put them in the air, a talent you could not yet access. You just… stared. Everything felt so still, even as Izanagi pulled you to a chair beside Kouten. You could hear the muffled sounds of your friends talking to each other, but you weren’t really there. Your ears were ringing and your vision blurred.

“Y/n? You good there, Buddy?” Kouten’s voice broke you from your fog. You looked up at him, and he offered you a smile. You could feel the ice that had been stuck to your skin since last night melt away under his sweet gaze.

“Yeah, sorry Kou. I’m just… scared. Did- did you see your attacker?” Kouten frowned, shaking his head solemnly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see their face. But I did see blonde hair and something red, probably blood, but I don’t know. It kind of looked like a sword, maybe? But also looked like- I don’t know.” he shook his head again, apologetic.

“Why were you out there anyways?” Izanagi asked him.

“I just needed some air, and the city is really pretty at night… and maybe I got a text from someone cute on a dating app and wanted to meet them…” the last part was muttered under his breath. You couldn’t help but face-palm.

“I’d lecture you on how fucking dumb that is, but I think you’ve already learned your lesson.” Izanagi scolded, “You fucking dumbass! Thank fuck you’re okay!”

After about fiteen minutes, a nurse came in and told you and Izanagi that he needed more rest, advizing the two of you to head back home and return tomorrow.

You could barely think, why? Why was this happening? How could this even be happening?

And why couldn’t you do anything about it?

172 notes · View notes

just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 10

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,110ish

Summary: Kinda all over the place... hope it makes sense.

I do not own Marvel or Grey’s Anatomy.

You were sleepily cuddled up to Steve in the comfort of your bed when you heard Val’s voice outside your door.

“Clint!” She exclaimed. “You locked the door. I need to take a shower.”

“Uh, uh, I’ll be out in a minute!” Clint responded.

“What are you doing in there?”

You groaned, curling into Steve further. His hold tightened around you as the bickering continued out in the hallway.

“It’s private!” Clint answered.

“Oh. Oh my. I’m sorry!” Val said. “I get it! I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“They’re so loud,” Steve grumbled. “Don’t they know that we’re right here, trying to sleep?”

“Just ignore them,” you mumbled in reply. “They’ll eventually stop.”

“I am not doing what you think I’m doing!” Clint continued.

“You know what, there's really no need to explain,” Val responded. “I'll wait. You just… finish.”

“No, I’m... I'm coming. I'm coming out.”

You heard the bathroom door open, causing you to bury your face into Steve’s neck. Then Val and Clint continued talking, annoying you greatly. With a grunt you separated from Steve and got out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked, reaching out for you.

“I’ll be right back,” you replied, kissing his lips lightly before be-lining for the door. You tore it open, causing Val, who had been leaning on it, to struggle with her balance. “What is going on out here?”

“Nothing,” Clint quickly answered.

“He's freaked out cause I caught him playing with little Jimmy and the twins,” Val responded.

“Val! I have a girlfriend.”

“Okay,” Val laughed with a nod.

Clint huffed, storming away to his room and slamming the door.

“This sounds like fun out here,” Steve said, walking up behind you. His phone began ringing. Giving it a quick glance, Steve stuffed it away in his pockets.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?” You asked. “It might be the hospital.”

“It’s not.” He gave you a kiss. “Breakfast?”

Steve walked down the hall, leaving you standing there a bit suspicious. And still annoyed that your roommates had woken you and Steve up.

~~~

Natasha was at the medical center. She was hiding in the stairwell, on the phone.

“No, look, I told you people I’m not coming for a counseling session,” she told whoever was on the other end of the call. “I know all my options… Yeah, uh, well I made my decision, and I made my appointment. I'll be there on the 16th.”

She hung up as Bruce walked up the stairs.

“I paged you last night,” he said, slightly nervous.

“Oh, I wasn’t on call,” Natasha replied.

“That's not why I paged you. You could give me your home number.”

“Um, Banner… I… uh, I gotta go.”

And she quickly went through the stairwell door, leaving Bruce standing there confused.

~~~

Clint and Laura, his new nurse girlfriend, were chatting at one of the nurses station.

“I had a really good time the other night,” Laura flirted.

“Yeah, me too,” Clint responded. “Are you, uh, feeling okay and everything?”

“I’m good. Great, now that I got to see you. Why?”

“Oh, no reason. I’m good too, you know? Really good. You know. But, um, a little itchy.”

“Hey, Clint,” Val greeted, walking up. “Hey, Laura.”

“Hey,” they both replied.

“I’ll see you later, Clint,” Laura said, wiggling her fingers as she walked away.

“Okay, bye,” Clint replied, turning to Val. “Yeah. She’s into me.”

“Way to go, Clint,” Val congratulated with a playful punch to the arm. “She’s cute. So this morning you really weren’t—“

“Anytime you want to apologize…”

“Then what ere you doing in the bathroom for so long?”

“I have to go.”

Clint swiftly left. He went straight to the locker room where he found Scott and Peter alone in there.

“Um… I need to ask you both something,” Clint said, nervously.

“Sure,” Scott answered.

“Depends what it is,” Peter replied.

“I seem to be having this skin thing going on, like a rash, really,” Clint said. “And I think I know what it is, but I can't get close enough to tell for sure.”

“Let’s see it,” Scott said.

“It’s kinda located in an, um, you know, private—“

“You’re a doctor, Clint,” Peter interrupted. “It's called a penis. You have a rash on your penis?”

“I think I can describe it. Um, it's k… red.”

“Look, just come on. Just show us your junk so we can get this over with.”

Clint looked around before slowly untying his scrubs and pulling his pants down. Both Scott and Peter looked, grimacing.

“Ew,” Scott muttered.

“So?” Clint wondered.

“Dude,” Peter laughed, “you’ve got syphilis.”

~~~

While you were were in surgery with Chief Fury (and being watched by Steve in the gallery), Clint had a blood test taken. He was picking it up from the lab at the same time Val was dropping off a patients labs.

“I need this back ASAP,” she told the lab tech.

“What a shocker,” the teach rolled his eyes.

“Hey, what did you get?” Val asked Clint. “Something good?” She quickly snatched the results from his hand. “Syphilis? That’s not surgical. Who has syphilis?” Clint quickly pulled Val into a supply closet, while she looked at the results closer. “You have syphilis?!”

“Shh!” Clint shut the door and turned on the light. “I don’t know how this happened.”

“Of course you do. Gosh, Laura must really be getting around.”

“Laura’s not like that.”

“People are like that, Clint. Apparently all except you.”

“You don’t know. Maybe I’ve been sleeping around. Maybe I got ladies.”

“All while pinning over Y/N?”

“Shut up. Just… what am I gonna do?”

“It's no biggie, couple doses of Penicillin will knock it out.”

“What am I gonna do about Laura?”

“Well, for starters, stop sleeping with her, unless you want that thing to fall off.”

“Okay, that is twice that you have trash-talked the girl that I could one day potentially… well, maybe love.”

“If she gave it to you, you have to tell her.”

“Three.”

“Fine.” Val held up her hands. “She didn't give it to you. She was a virgin when you met. You still have to tell her so she can get tested.”

“Oh, yeah? How am I gonna tell her? ‘Uh, hey, Laura. How you doing? By the way, I got the syph. How about you?’”

“Maybe not quite like that.”

“No, it's good advice, really good advice. Thank you very much.”

~~~

Clint ran into Laura in the stairwell. Laura quickly began making out with Clint.

“About time I got you alone today,” she mumbled against his lips before kissing him again.

“Laura..” Clint gasped, trying to push her away.

“What time is your shift done?”

“Laura—“

“Because mine's over at 8, and I thought maybe you could come over.”

“Laura!” She finally separated slightly. “I need to tell you something.”

“What's wrong? Are you breaking up with me?”

“What? No! Oh, no. Really, no. It's just… Okay, you're the only person that I've been with in a long time. I mean, not unusually long or anything, you know? Just a normal amount of long time. But it wouldn't matter to me if you've been with someone else. Maybe you have? I'm not accusing you of anything or, you know, judging you or handing out scarlet letters or anything, you know? It’s... you're a woman, you know? A very attractive woman. Of course you've been with other men. Not that you've been with a lot of men, it's not like you're a prostitute…”

“A prostitute?”

“No! Not a… not a prostitute. What…? No, the opposite of a prostitute, a lady. You're very ladylike. I mean, you're very bendy, but…”

“Clint, breathe.”

“Okay. It's just… okay, here's the thing. I really like you, Laura. I like you a lot.”

“Well, I like you too.”

She started to make out with him again. Clint got lost in it for a moment before pushing Laura away again.

“I have syphilis,” Clint stated. Laura looked at him, a tad horrified, before running off without saying anything. “Well, that could have gone better.” He softly hit his head against the wall, leaving it there. “Idiot.”

~~~

After your surgery with the Chief, everyone, that was available, was called into a large room. Fury was standing in the front, arms crossed, not looking pleased. Maria Hill was standing near him.

“Three interns, four residents and six nurses on this surgical floor have been diagnosed with syphilis,” Fury stated.

The room made oohing noises. Clint and Laura glanced at each other from across the room.

“Clint and Laura are two of those cases,” Val said quietly from beside you, trying to stifle a laugh.

“What?!” Both you and Natasha whisper shouted.

“Who gave it to who?” You asked.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Natasha said. “Clint doesn’t get around."

“There are over 70,000 new cases every year,” Maria explained to everyone. “Undiagnosed, syphilis can lead to blindness, insanity and death.”

“If you are having unprotected sex with another member of the staff, get tested,” Fury ordered. Bruce and Natasha made eye contact. “This is not a request.” Everyone laughed. “Maria will now give you a safe-sex demonstration.” Laughing continued as Maria pulled out a banana and a condom.

"When the time is right, and, gentlemen, you'll all know when that time is, carefully open the condom packet and roll it onto the banana,” Maria said.

As you listened, you watched Steve come in and whisper something the Chief. You were concerned as Steve had been a little distant today.

“Open communication is essential to a healthy relationship,” Maria continued. “In a responsible relationship…”

“Poor Clint,” you whispered to Natasha.

“Yeah,” Natasha agreed. “You know, I think he really likes Typhoid Mary.”

"Well, not many budding relationships survive a good dose of VD.”

“Yeah.”

“When the banana is finished,” you turned back in to Dr. Hill, “gently peel off the condom and dispose of it properly. With every fresh banana, always use a fresh condom.”

“Do you and Steve…?” Natasha wondered.

“Condoms, all the way,” you responded. “You have anyone you—“

“No,” Natasha shook her head quickly. “Not at all.”

~~~

Steve paged you not long after the meeting. You hated to admit it, but you were excited that he needed you. You found him in a small room reading scans.

“You paged?” You questioned, trying to hold back an excited smile.

"Yeah, I need you to help me out on something for the Chief,” he replied. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Better than you think.”

He moved slightly and pointed to the brain scans. “Fury has a small tumor pressing against his optic nerve. We need to operate, but he wants it on the down low.”

“When are you operating?”

“Tonight, when less people are in the hospital.”

“And here I thought we were going to be able to have a date night.”

“We can. Just later.” He gave you a small smile. “Can you take to Dr. Gamora? Get her on board?”

“I can try.”

“And get a few others as well. Close to the Chief.”

~~~

After checking on your patients, you found those close to the Chief, asking if they could assist. They all readily agreed. You then went searching for Gamora. You found her heading down a hallway.

“Gamora,” you called. “Can I talk to you?”

“Make it quick, L/N,” she responded.

“Dr. Rogers and the Chief need your help. But they’ve asked that you not tell anyone.”

“What is it?”

“Fury has a small tumor on his optic nerve, Rogers needs to operate. They were wondering if you could assist?”

“Count on it.”

Steve then came jogging up. “How goes our special super secret silent sunset surgery?” He wondered, a bit cheerfully. “I've been practicing that.”

“You have too much time on your hands,” Gamora stated, rolling her rolls slightly. “Uh, tell the chief I'll be there. Just let me know when and where. I'm in.”

“Okay,” you nodded and then Gamora left. You turned to face Steve. “Are you nervous?”

“It's a complicated surgery,” Steve answered. “I make one mistake, I end a fellow surgeon's career, my mentor's career. Oh, no, I'm not nervous.”

“So just for the record…”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You’d tell me if I needed to get tested, right?”

“You think I have syphilis?”

“No, I don't. It's just… we never made any rules or anything. I mean, we never said, "We have rules," and I wouldn't hold it against you.”

“When would I have time to go out and get syphilis? You're a handful enough as it is, and besides, we're like, practically a condom ad.”

“But no more glow-in-the-dark ones.” You smirked.

“You see? There's nothing to worry about. Maybe we should, you know make some rules, I mean.”

“We should.”

“Okay.”

“Just for the record…”

“Uh-huh?”

“I like the glow-in-the-dark ones.”

“I bet you do.”

~~~

Val and Natasha paged you to the abandoned hallway you all frequented, wanting to talk to you about something.

“You guys want to perform an unauthorized autopsy?” You repeated.

“I know you, Natasha,” Val said. “You do not want to be known as the new 007. An autopsy clears your name.”

“Nat, no.”

“What about Franklin's wife? You saw the way she was looking at me. She wants the autopsy. She just didn't want to fight with her daughter. She looked so sad. Ok, Natasha Romanoff, license to kill.”

“Okay, I’m in,” Natasha agreed.

“I am so not involved in this,” you said.

“Y/N, this is fight club. Nobody talks about it.”

“Fine.”

“We have to do it when Gamora’s not around.”

“Gamora’s always around,” Val complained. “She's everywhere and knows everything.”

“Well, we have to take our chances.”

"Gamora's got something tonight from 7 to 11,” you told them. “You two will be the last thing she's worried about.”

“How do you know that?” / “What kind of something?”

“Oh, I can’t tell you that. It’s fight club, too."

~~~

You taped the do not enter signs on all the OR doors. Steve had made sure that the OR chosen didn’t have a gallery in it. Steve let you stand on his one side, able to see everything. It was amazing to watch had occasionally help.

“Okay, I've sutured the drain in place,” Steve stated, finishing up the surgery. “The staples look fine. Alright, we're done here. Dr. Gamora, you want to wrap him?”

“I got it,” Gamora replied.

“Nice work, everybody. Nicely done.” Steve walked into the scrub room.

“Do you think the optic nerve is damaged?” You asked Gamora.

“If it is when he wakes up, he’ll—“

“He’ll be blind? For how long?”

“Forever. Page Valkyrie and Romanoff. Tell them I want them covering your patients. I need you to stay and monitor the Chief.”

“Val and Nat are, um… I think they’re already swamped.”

“With what?”

“Labs. They had to check on some labs.”

“Oh, you are lying. I know you’re lying. You know how I know? Cause you’re a bad liar! I hate a bad liar.” Gamora turned to the person next to her. “Take over for me. I know exactly where they are.”

~~~

You were outside of Fury’s room, filling out his chart, when Steve walked up.

“How is he?” Steve asked.

“He’s still asleep, but nothing seems to be wrong just yet,” you replied. “How are you?”

“Good,” he sighed, glancing into Fury’s room before looking down at you. “How are you?”

“Tired. Ready to go home and cuddle.”

“Me too.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, brushing his fingers down your cheek. “Me too.”

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Fury woke up just in time to see that term of endearment. After another soft kiss to your forehead, Steve left and you went in to check on Fury.

“Y/N,” Fury said in a reprimanding tone. “He’s an attending. You’re an intern.”

“You saw us?” You questioned. “You can see.”

“I'm gonna tell you what your parents would say if they were here. You're making a mistake, a big one.”

“You know my parents? You know who I am?”

“Always have. I was close friends with them. I understood the name change. But this,” he motioned his hand around, “I do not understand. And it needs to stop. For more reasons than you know.”

~~~

All you interns were in locker room, getting ready to go home, when Laura entered. Clint immediately noticed as she came up to him.

“Hey,” he greeted. “Um, about before—“

“Clint, I want you to understand, when we started dating, I was already kind of seeing someone,” Laura said. “I didn't know how much I'd like you, and when I realized, I broke it off with the other guy—“

“Other guy? Who’s the other guy?” Laura looked over at Peter. “You and Peter? You and Peter?!” Clint turned and began attacking Peter. “You gave me syphilis?!”

“Clint!” You, Val, Natasha, and Laura exclaimed, pulling him off Peter.

“I don’t even feel back,” Peter said. “Cause the sex was—“ Clint attacked him again, causing the four of you to separate the two once again.

“Clint, you’re all ready,” Val stated. “Let’s go home.” She dragged him out of the locker room.

~~~

Finally, you got to the lobby. Steve was already there, sitting, waiting for you.

“Long day?” He wondered, studying you.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Somewhere out there is a steak with your name on it,” he said, standing up, “and maybe a bottle of wine.”

“This is why I keep you around.”

“So we need to talk.”

“Wine first, talk later.”

“You trying to, uh, get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?”

“I think I like this rules thing.”

“Me too.”

Steve grabbed your hand, staring at you as you both started for the door. When he turned to look at the door, he froze, stopping you two in place. His eyes went wide, which worried you. You looked to see what he was looking at. Walking towards you was this beautiful brown haired woman, with fiery red lipstick.

“Y/N, I am so sorry,” Steve whispered. The woman walked all the way over to them. “Peggy. What are you doing here?”

“Well, you'd know if you'd bothered to return any one of my phone calls,” the woman responded, surprising you with a British accent. She turned to you, overing you her hand. “Hi. I’m Margaret Rogers.” You shook her hand.

“Rogers?” You repeated, confused.

“And you must be the woman who’s been screwing my husband.”

next chapter >

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#steve rogers x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #steve rodgers x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rodgers imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #avenger imagines #steve rogers fanfiction #greys anatomy au #Marvel AU

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ootori-sibs · 3 years

Text

Colour blind

Day one of @ohshc-week : soulmates or found family

Everyone always knew that there were two things that everyone had; sight that only saw the colour of their soulmates soul, and that words appear on their skin when they realise they've fallen in love and colour returns to their sight- and those words are the words moment by their soulmate in that moment.

Kyoya didn't have a soulmate, that much was true. He was sure of it the moment his sister told him about the legends, he remembers in this stupid little toddler wisdom, actually asking her.

"Fumi… why don't I see any colours..?"

He remembers the look of absolute heartbreak on his sister's face, as she came to the conclusion everyone he'd told had come to; Kyoya didn't have a soulmate, he was unlovable, he would die alone. But of course Fiyumi had done her best to comfort him, suggesting any number of reasons he couldn't see a single colour; maybe his soulmate's soul wasn't on the visible spectrum? Maybe he was just colourblind? Maybe his soulmate didn't even have a soul? Kyoya had jumped right on that excuse, the idea that his soulmate was a demon of some sort, made sense in his little toddler brain, especially when falling for his horribly crude, horribly rude ex, maybe his own soul was an ugly shade of green, just like Kuze had said he could see- Kyoya didn't even know what green looked like. But every night, he searched his body for words, any word Kuze had ever said to him- and never found anything.

That was probably the final nail in the coffin, the final, undeniable proof that he never had a soulmate, and never would. He spent so many nights, ending up in tears… how was he so unlovable? He had no friends after upsetting both Kuze and his fiancée, he'd told them he saw orange, he just wanted to make him happy… but she saw orange, she was who made him happy. He was all alone, and he would always be alone…

Then he met Tamaki, Tamaki was special, Tamaki made him feel happy like he hadn't felt in so long. But never once did Kyoya let himself fall for the man, he knew better by now, he never told Tamaki that he couldn't see in colour, he didn't want his new best friend to think him a freak. But he loved to listen to Tamaki go on and on about the colour he saw… purple.

Purple was the colour of Tamaki's eyes, the colour of the roses he had surrounded Kyoya with, it was a colour so beautiful, it could bring Tamaki to tears if he spoke about it for too long, it was a colour that Tamaki so often told Kyoya he looked so good in. Kyoya had to trust his word, he had no idea how colour theory worked, only how blacks and whites and greys looked together, there was nothing Kyoya hated more than blacks and greys.

Black was a dark, sombre colour, it wasn't even a colour, it was a shade of nothing, the ugliest in Kyoya's opinion; it was the colour of his unlovable hair, the colour of the book he carried around, the colour of everything sick and bad. The greys were worse; they were everything Kyoya couldn't see, they were every colour of the rainbow, a horrible reminder of everything he was not, the horrible mark of a lack of love, they were the colour of his eyes, showing everyone exactly who he was, he hated greys- but he hated the colours even more, the light hiding from his vision.

White was the only lack of colour he ever cared for; the sunlight drifting through the open window and onto his face, the inside of warm, fresh bread, it was the colour that everything light and bright appeared to be, it wasn't an absence of happiness, but the only joy Kyoya could gleam, it was also the colour that most of Tamaki appeared as, from his hair to his overly expensive 'red' leather shoes.

Then the host club was founded, it was a joint effort, though Kyoya really didn't see the point, all these girls had soulmates, what could they ever see in their hosts? Kyoya didn't understand romance for the sake of romance, everything should be about your soulmate- how dare these selfish brats focus on anything else? He'd always hated how his brothers focused on their studies, they were always better than him in one sense- did they have to be better than him in every way? Now these boys and their stupid guests were going to mess around, neglecting time that should be spent searching for their soulmate. But of course Kyoya couldn't have just said that, then Tamaki would ask why Kyoya never searched for his own… and he'd have to admit how unlovable he was.

But he grew fond of the club, if not their activities. He still resented each and every guest to walk through their door, but at least Kyoya could excuse the hosts- they were only messing around. Besides, at least one of them already knew their soulmate; Honey saw a dark mauve colour, it was a strange colour, one Kyoya couldn't even begin to imagine, the boy-lolita's soulmate was a girl from the black magic club, who had previously complained about the bright pink shades everything took- now it was her favourite colour.

He began to see the hosts as a family unit, like the times Tamaki always described, it was never anything like his own family- but he had to adore the beautiful nuclear family picture Tamaki painted for him… himself as the mother, and Tamaki was always the father. It was a picture perfect scene, one Kyoya would never be able to have in any other context. Of course he loved, he fell in love every day, any time there was a beautiful man on the television, any time a handsome man passed his vision in any context. Sometimes he developed a small crush on someone he actually knew, and he had to crush it and remove it from his mind- he was unlovable, he had to remember that.

Haruhi came along and Kyoya began to believe Tamaki had found his soulmate, maybe she was purple, but the roses he found surrounded her were red apparently, not purple- that was the first he realised it was only him surrounded by purple. He appreciated Tamaki surrounding him in such an important colour, he supposed a best friend was a stand in for a soulmate until you found it. He supposed that was also why he was mommy- he'd lose the role once Tamaki found his queen.

He didn't understand why that thought made him feel so sad.

He didn't understand why Haruhi gave him such pitying eyes when he explained why he agreed to found the club with Tamaki.

He certainly didn't understand why he was in physical pain when he was so close to losing Tamaki. He should be happy for his best friend- Eclair was Tamaki's soulmate after all wasn't he? He wondered what colour his friend's soul was…

But Eclair didn't feel like a purple, she didn't fit any of the descriptors Tamaki gave the colour; she wasn't subtle, sure she was mature- but in too sexual of a sense, purple was withdrawn but glowing, it was a smart colour, one that Tamaki truly loved… Eclair was none of that, she was disgusting.

When they settled down together to watch the fireworks after the most stressful day of all their lives, it was Hikaru who spoke up. "Uhh… Haruhi?" Haruhi glanced over to him, and Kyoya noticed how the louder twin was holding his forearm, "I have to show you…" and he pulled back his sleeve, to reveal words written in block text, what was presumably red; 'don't worry about that Hikaru, I got this.' and from the gasp that emanated from Haruhi, it was something she had said to him.

Suddenly, she was looking around in awe, "so many colours…" her hands went to her mouth, before her eyes went down to her own forearm, pulling her own sleeve back, only to see the words Hikaru had just spoken, written in… was that comic sans?

All the hosts watched in silence as they embraced, Haruhi kissing Hikaru on the nose before they both chuckled happily… Kyoya had to look away, feeling a pang of pain at his friends' happy ending. Honey seemed to have the opposite reaction, clapping his hands together with a giggle and a smile, "aww!! Hika-chan loves Haru-chan!!"

Kaoru seemed pleased, patting his brother on the back, "hell yeah, I called it!"

Tamaki simply gasped, "I knew you had impure intentions for my little girl!" He points at Hikaru, "devil twin!" He glanced at Kyoya pouting, "mommy! Set some ground rules!"

Kyoya sighs, feeling his heart pounding heavy in his chest, really not feeling up to this, he crossed his arms. "Hurt her, we hurt you, and the same goes for vise versa, both of you- take care of each other." The two looked up at Kyoya, both smiling in amusement at how willing Kyoya was to go along with Tamaki's antics, but knowing full well the threats were real- Kyoya doesn't do fake threats. "Although I know you won't, cause you're both fucking soulmates and perfect for each other, obviously." He shoots a quick glare at Tamaki for making him give such a redundant threat.

But the hosts had all paused, looking at him in confusion, that was the first time they'd ever heard Kyoya swear, and they were concerned. "Aren't you happy for them Kyo-chan? What's wrong..?" Honey asked, tilting his head slightly. Only then does Kyoya realise what he'd said, and he withdrew in on himself, trying to find an excuse, any excuse…

"Aw… are you upset you still haven't found yours yet?" Tamaki smiled softly, hugging him, "that's so cute Kyoya!" Kyoya felt his cheeks heat up slightly, cursing his sensitivity for things like this.

"Ugh, it's nothing, I'm just a little stressed from today, alright?" He forced a smile, adjusting his glasses quietly and stepping away from Tamaki, who looked a little disappointed.

"I wished I could date *my* soulmate already." Tamaki spoke, sighing, "you two are very lucky," he had turned to the lucky couple again, smiling now.

Haruhi chuckles, smiling back, "oh don't worry, I'm sure your soulmate would be easy to find, she's probably one of your guests."

Tamaki shakes his head at that "oh I already know my soulmate, I'm just waiting for my soulmate to find me."

Everyone pauses at that, and Kyoya feels an even greater pang of pain, his best, dearest friend has found his soulmate, and doesn't even attempt to court her? How selfish of him, what another those without soulmates- not that he'd be aware of that, it's only Kyoya…. It's Hikaru who speaks up, frowning, "why not just tell her? She'd have to realise then?"

"That would be unfair, to deprive my love of the wonderful feeling of discovery and adoration, the same I felt… I'd never want my true love to be forced into such a discovery." He smiles, sighing wistfully, ever the romantic is Tamaki, and Kyoya could only wish he had someone who would do that for him… but that was impossible.

Hikaru paused, glancing at Haruhi, "well know I feel bad."

Haruhi chuckled, kissing Hikaru's cheek, "don't worry, I appreciate the straightforwardness, I'm glad you just told me. That's why we fit, and whoever Tamaki-senpai's soulmate is, will appreciate his gesture as much as I appreciate yours."

Aw how romantic, Kyoya almost felt sick, his rage- his jealousy, was almost unbearable, what he wouldn't do for a soulmate… someone he could call his own…

They went inside, intending to relax inside the clubroom, in fact Tamaki had suggested they stay the night. So they were setting up for a nice big sleepover, but Kyoya just sat by the window, once again mourning his lack of love. He wasn't really paying attention to what the other hosts were doing, he was just thinking about everything and nothing, he tried to focus on finances and money, at least to keep the tears away, what had he learnt in school recently? Not much if he was honest.

He could hear Tamaki arguing with the twins once again, some things never changed, as much as it was annoying, it was lovely background noise… everything Tamaki said was lovely background noise. Tamaki was just, lovely in general- Kyoya couldn't ask for a better best friend… of course he'd never say that, he could never admit how much he-

"MAMA!!" Tamaki cried out, rushing to Kyoya's side, his eyes big and shimmering, whining and complaining about something the twins had done or said, but all Kyoya could think about was…

-loved him. He loved him, he could never admit how much he loved Tamaki. Oh for fucks sake, he'd fallen for Tamaki Souh of all people, his best friend. He thought he'd never make that mistake again- falling for a friend never ends well.

He sighed, opening his eyes again to look that idiot in the face and… his eyes… was that… purple?

He couldn't see a single grey, not one speck… he looked around, barely any black either… oh heavens, oh god. It seemed Tamaki had noticed something, standing up, and- oh his suit really was white… white, the colour of the roses on Tamaki's table, that fool loved the colour white almost as much as he did purple…

"Are you alright Kyoya? You look a little… shocked." Tamaki smiled, looking down at him. The other hosts glanced over, oh they were all so colourful… Kyoya could cry…

"Your suit is white…" was all he could manage, practically rendered speechless as he felt a telltale tingle on his wrist…

Tamaki nodded, smiling brighter, "you've only just noticed? Or are you finally seeing in colour?" This got the other hosts attention, all eyes going wide, Kyoya had no clue what those colours were… the same as coffee he thought, at least in Haruhi's case.

"You're white- you… your soul…" Kyoya managed to choke out, looking down at his wrist, written in beautiful white cursive was the word; 'MAMA!!', all caps, two exclamations… and Kyoya felt the tears spilling, for the first time not out of sadness or mourning.

"Oh my god! You two are soulmates???" Hikaru blurted out, seemingly shocked, especially as Tamaki nodded.

"I surrounded him in purple for a reason." He then paused, frowning and turning back to Kyoya, "white? My soul is white? Not even a real colour..? God… no wonder you got so nervous whenever I brought up the idea of soulmates…" the pity was clear in his voice, but Kyoya couldn't care less.

"I thought I didn't have one…" he managed to admit, grabbing Tamaki and pulling him into the tightest hug he could manage, he was in love, he was allowed to be in love- he even had a soulmate that was so special his colour was unique! "You're every colour in the entire light spectrum, you're too real…"

Tamaki chuckled at that, smiling and giving Kyoya lots of little face kisses, "I'm glad your happy mon amour, now please let me go, I can't breathe."

"I'm never letting you go again," Kyoya spoke truthfully, he ever wanted to feel as alone as he had felt not ten minutes ago ever again, he grabbed Tamaki by the face, staring him in the eyes, "now kiss me and don't ever fucking stop."

#ohshc week #ohshc #kyoya ootori #tamaki souh #tamakyo #kyotama #hikaru hitachiin #haruhi fujioka #hikaharu #ohshcweek

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delu-jean · 3 years

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

(Jean x fem!/reader) -> Angst -> 4.7k

Notes: Sorry for updating a lot later than expected! Here’s chapter eleven, and twelve will be out as soon as I write it. Hope you enjoy!

Ⅹ > Ⅻ

During the night, you had no dreams or nightmares. It was simply peaceful, calming, and warm. Having him beside you (though he was on the floor) gave you the utmost comfort. He was really here with you, resting to the side, while you did the same. Such a feeling that was yearned for, had finally found its way back to you. The first night in what seemed like forever where you actually slept through calmly.

You woke up the next day to see the sun peer in. Through the crack of your blinds, highlighting the walls of your cozy room. The birds, though silent, remained present as the wind rustled quietly. Jean lay on the floor. His hand still clung onto yours from the night before. His grip felt secure and gentle when holding yours. His hair laced over the pillows, as his body was barely covered by the sheets. Only now did you realize how much of a mover he was. Though that was the case, he still miraculously held you through the night. Without causing any discomfort whatsoever.

You wanted to sit in this moment for a tad longer, but knew you would have to ready you both for the day ahead. You tried to slip out of his hand, but to your failed attempt, he gripped even tighter. He really wasn’t going to make this easy. You tried yet again, using your other hand to assist. Regardless, his one hand and few fingers kept you grounded. You thought that was the end of things, but he then pulled you in. Locking you in a tight embrace. You shook your head, both flustered and disappointed. You needed to get away from him, yet here he was, keeping you captive.

“Jean...Jean I need to get up-”

“Not again...no...never,” he mumbled.

It seemed as if he was sleep talking. If he was conscious, he probably would’ve laughed at you by now. You were sad to hear such words. He had gone through so much trauma to the point he couldn’t let go of you.

“I’m not leaving...not yet at least...so Jean, don’t worry and please let me go,” you cupped his cheek as it sank into your touch. His head now leaning towards you, and his face at a closer range. Smiling at the reaction, you then heard a knock coming from outside.

“Hm...I have to go now,” he seemed less tense than earlier. It must’ve been because of your words since he actually let you go. You got up, put yourself in a cardigan, and quickly tied your hair. Maybe this time it was actually Reiner, for goodness sake you would now need to leave a candle there. Just in case next time, it’s a crazy psycho and not Jean.

You opened the door, ready to attack if it was anyone threatening. Though hesitant, you let your guard down, opening the door even wider.

“Ah Y/n! Long time no see,” you stared at the woman, flowers in one hand, while treats in the other.

“Alexandra, what are you doing here?” you smiled shocked.

Alexandra was also a person from the military. An Eldian soldier who commanded her own squad. Though your rank was a tad higher than her’s, she was never too far from you. You both conversed here and there. Though you weren’t as close to her as you were with the warrior unit, you were both mutually acquainted. Enjoying each other’s company from time to time.

“I just came to drop by. If you’re busy, I can come sometime later today,” you didn’t want to be rude and reject her. Even though Jean was over, you assumed that if he had heard someone else (other than you) in the house, that he would keep quiet.

“No no no, I insist. Come in, I’m free,” you led her inside for her to then place the gifts on the table. Now that you thought about it, this was the second time she had been to your house. That being said, you were surprised she still had this place memorized. Not only that, but you were surprised she had come out of the blue. Did she have something important to share, what drove her to come?

“Curious are we?” she laughed as your eyes widened, embarrassed.

“Of course not-”

“Haha, you’re not a very good liar Y/n~”

“I guess you’re right about that,” you grinned as you started to prepare tea. She was just such a lady, and plus, tea complimented any situation. So why not make some now?

“Hm lovely. Earl Grey if I’m correct?”

“Haha, yes you are,” you then placed a cup down. Pouring the tea as she patiently waited. Crossing her legs and setting the treats she brought across the table.

“I’m sorry I’ve come so early in the morning, it’s just that my squad is going to be shipped out sometime tomorrow...so I wanted to say my goodbyes before then.”

“What do you mean? I know you’ll come back,” you smiled as she followed hesitantly.

“Yeah...of course I will,” you then set the teapot down, as she took a sip.

“Hey so...I heard that someone might be getting married,” you start to drink your tea, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Who?”

“Who else but you,” you choked on the beverage, wondering as to how she would know such a thing. You then tried to play things cool, hoping the subject would slowly avert.

“I’m still not understanding?-”

“You and Reiner silly. It’s been going around everywhere...didn’t you know?”

“No...I...I didn’t know that others knew?...”

“Ahh I see. Well, from what I know, the town seems content with such a proposal. The ladies have been talking about what kind of future you both might have, even with the limited time. Not only that, but Reiner’s mother seems ecstatic with both the arrangements, and attention being given,” you then bite down on your tongue. Never would you have thought things would escalate so quickly. Rumors that weren’t even confirmed, yet spread like wildfire. She then placed her cup down, grabbing one of the deserts to munch, and then covered her mouth. She spoke, trying to keep her manners while also enjoying the treat.

“So, have you prepared a wedding dress, did he give you a ring yet, or are you both going to wait for the day of?”

“No...I haven’t been given a ring, nor have I gotten anything.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah…”

“Hm...well okay. Let me ask you a different question.”

“Of course, whenever you’re ready,” she then finished, and took a sip. Eyeing you as you sat uncomfortable, not sure what her next approach would be.

“You do like him, don’t you?”

“Um...well...I...I would say-”

“You know, I’ve always thought the both of you were...how do I say it, cute. Very cute actually.”

“I’m sorry, what?” you laughed a little, thinking she was being sarcastic. Whereas she was being quite serious.

“You two have always seemed so close. You both respect each other, take the time to have one on ones, you also put in the effort to see each other’s families, and just...so much more. You’ve always seemed like a couple, or, couple goals to say the least. Not only that, but you seem to genuinely care for each other. You give words of affirmation, and he gives you acts of genuine affection.”

“How would you know such a thing?” your brow cocked as she sighed.

“My dear, it’s called observation. Speaking of observing, you can’t deny that Reiner is very attractive.”

“I-”

“I mean, he’s a total catch. He’s a very good looking gentleman. One that actually takes care of his hygiene. He’s presentable most of the time, and treats you like the lady you are. Giving you the respect which you deserve. Very attractive in my opinion. Chivalrous, yet understanding of a lady’s worth.”

“I agree with that,” though your feelings for Reiner were platonic, what she stated was...somewhat true. Just disclude the whole “wanting to kill you,” along with the “using you as a way to cope,” and vice versa.

“So you do like him?” she asked as you sat there, not sure about what your response would be.

“Well…” a question then sprung in your head. You put your cup down, to then eye her yourself as she locked her gaze. Awaiting for whatever your answer would be.

“Alexandra what if...what if there was someone else?”

“Someone better looking than Reiner?”

“I...I guess so,” you chuckled as she stared at you in shock.

“No way...did you get with Porco? Wow...you surprise me the more I get to know you-”

“Wait a minute, you think Porco is more charming than Reiner?” You cut her midway through, baffled to say the least. Now you were the person in shock as she smiled cockishly. Proud of such a statement.

“Well...yes...yes I do,” she said shamelessly as you now laughed.

“Wait, but why? I’m genuinely curious,” you said, obviously having a different opinion.

“First of all, his undercut is both sharp and clean. Not only that, but the dirty blonde really suits him. His build is nice, along with the fashion he portrays. Though not too out of the ordinary, you can tell he puts in the effort to look his best.

The energy he gives off is adventurous, dark, and mysterious, you know? But at the same time, he also seems like a gentleman. One who’s misunderstood, yet has a soft interior. His eyes seem to hide an excruciating pain, yet his smile is one full of brightness, and laughter,” you were surprised about how philosophical, and passionate she was when describing Porco...Porco of all people. No offense to him, but you would never see him in such light.

Regardless, she seemed proud to say such a statement, as she then asked you:

“And you? Just what about Reiner intrigues you? I understand for some reasons, but more than Porco?” you nodded to then state:

“I can’t guarantee my description will be a full fledged english essay. But oh well, here it goes,” she listened intrigued, ready to hear your rebuttal.

“Well, he does have a beard. Though Zeke’s is fuller, Reiner’s compliments his face structure. He has a very um...broad build, the blonde suits him well, and over all, is a very sweet person. Compared to Porco, I would say he has a much more timid nature. Don’t get me wrong, he can speak his mind, but is a little more sensitive when doing so. That being the case, I feel as if he’s more relatable. Though, I may be saying this because I’ve known him for longer, outside of Marely of course, I just think he’s the better option-”

“The better option, so he is an option. Meaning that you feel attracted to him. Leading to the conclusion that you like him,” she grinned maliciously as you panicked.

“Um well...I wouldn’t say that…”

“Interesting...but my point still stands haha. If you ever need someone to help you prepare for the occasion...if I come back...I’ll be sure to aid you.”

“Of course,” she then stood up, placing the flowers in a vase. Grabbing her bag, her coat, her hat, standing before you.

“But before I go, just who is this other person?...Are you really seeing someone?”

“I…” you weren’t sure what to say to her, as the hesitation rang in your voice.

“No...I just wanted to know what your thoughts would be,” You know you should have told her yes, but you just couldn’t. You didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire, and if you couldn’t even tell the warriors, telling someone else shouldn’t have been an option.

“I see, well...farewell Y/n. Let us meet again, and if not here...somewhere else…”

“Yes, of course,” you smiled happily as the door then shut.

You were glad that one, she came to visit you, and two, that things were now over. You sat in your seat, stretching out your arms to hear another knock. Except this time, it was coming from behind you. Your head then flung backwards, your smile growing even wider as your chair tilted.

“Good morning handsome~”

“Good morning beautiful, how are you?”

“Greater than ever, how about you? Did you sleep well?”

“Magnificent. Also yeah, I did sleep well...surprisingly,” you both laughed a little, as you then got up, placing breakfast for the both of you. Though a little full from the meeting before, you still wanted to enjoy a meal with Jean. After all, it had been so long since the last time you did. And plus, that was during your time as a cadet. You weren’t able to enjoy such a feast in the morning.

You both ate in silence. Both of you trying to enjoy the food, and each other’s company. Letting the peace around settle in. Once you had finished both eating, and cleaning up after yourselves, you then decided to speak, asking:

“Did you hear the conversation I had earlier? I’m assuming you probably woke up because of it,” you didn’t ask how much he heard. You instead wanted to see how much he did hear from the man himself. He put the cloth he was holding down. Similar to you, he wanted to see if you’d tell him anything from the conversation. So he asked:

“Was there anything important I should be informed about regarding it?”

“No…” you lied guiltily, but you didn’t know how to handle it otherwise. He then decided to hint you with what he knew, by saying:

“Hm...Is Reiner really your type? Do I have to buff it up, go blonde, and grow a stache?” he then touched his face as you laughed. Both out of silliness, and nervousness. You felt worried knowing he heard that much of your conversation. Meaning, he knew you hadn’t denied Alexandra even once.

“Haha no! I love you just the way you areeee!”

He then looked at the ground, leading him to stand up.

“If that’s the case,” he leaned against the wall, staring at you intensely.

“No? Y/n, why did you say no?” you sighed in defeat, seeing that he most definitely was on your tail.

“I can’t tell her I’m dating a ‘devil’ from Paradis,” you said, trying to make an excuse.

“You wouldn’t have needed to tell her that...just saying yes should’ve been a good enough answer. You didn’t have to say no.”

“I know…”

“Then why did you?..”

“I just...I’m not even sure myself-”

“About this...us?...” he stopped himself while clenching his fist. Though he was annoyed, he didn’t want to push that onto you. He knew you cared about your relationship, and plus, it sounded petty for him to say.

“Never mind...it’s not a big deal.”

“I see…” you agreed, still feeling guilty as he then asked:

“You’re not planning on marrying him...right?”

“Hm,” you think to yourself. Though your mind had run blank, he certainly did not as it ran with rage. Seeing you hesitate when the answer should have been obvious. He just couldn’t handle it, along with his sense of inferiority. Though he had matured, there were still times where acted otherwise. This being one of them.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say no, almost immediately-”

“You know I won’t Jean…”

“Then why didn’t you tell off your friend? You didn’t deny the proposal, or your affection for him.”

Jean wasn’t jealous, rather, frustrated. Frustrated that you weren’t using your words (yet again), nor telling him any of your thoughts. It's like watching a movie with no audio, he wasn’t able to understand your actions even when seeing them. Without any coordination, communication would never reach his side of the spectrum.

He scrunched his eyebrows, and pinched the bridge between them. Though that was the case, he was trying to be patient with you. After all, this was something new and he didn’t want you to feel pressured. Nor did he want you to feel like it was completely your fault. Even if it was, he wouldn’t have known unless you told him so.

“Look Y/n...I really don’t want to fight, especially over something like this. But in order for me to understand things, even if it does hurt my feelings, I need to understand your thought process. That way, I’m able to clear up any misunderstandings. You tend to keep your mouth shut, and that’s not something that we need as of right now. You know how I feel, now it’s your turn,” you were still hesitant, feeling pressured as he approached you. He looked into your eyes. His stare was desperate, yet understanding. Patting your head as you gazed upwards.

“I’m sorry for acting like that...but you know...your actions do hurt me, especially when I don’t know where you’re coming from. So can you please...try to explain?” he pouted as you sighed, ready to convey how you felt. He seemed excited seeing that you were somewhat ready, feeling like a proud father...which was something he didn’t feel often (having both Connie and Sasha). It was a weird metaphor, but the only one which could describe the moment.

“I wasn’t sure if I should tell her. Although I do trust her, it could get out. You never know. Plus, I didn’t want to deny the proposal yet. I still need to talk things out with Reiner, and his mother” he seemed a bit disappointed, leading you to then hug him.

“But I can promise you, it’s something that won’t happen. I love you, and you alone,” he then wrapped his arms around, returning the favour. Him hovering over your top half, as you hugged his torso, still in your seat.

“I see...thanks for that but...I think I’ll still go blonde-”

“NO! I like your brown hair, it’s cute!”

“Cute eh? I guess I’ll keep it then,” Him then smirking at the ego boost, as you sat flushed.

“I love your hair as well.”

---

After breakfast, you both decided to make plans. Heading out for a walk in the park, wanting to spend more time together. If anything, you could conclude it as being a date. You went out for lunch, and strolled together while conversing. Though walking was a great thing, so was sitting. That being the case, you both sat on a bench. Hands intertwined, feet swinging, and him calmly humming. Moments had passed in such comfort for him to ask:

“What’s happened in your life? Well, other than becoming part of the military, and all of the boring stuff.”

“Nothing much, how about you? What’s been happening in yours?”

“Ah...I can’t say too much about that,” he nervously said, as you backed off, understanding it wasn’t something to be said aloud. You both then sat awkwardly, only for you to ask something that you had been curious about.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened? After I left...the truth if possible,” you knew Jean was a truthful person, you trusted him, but you also knew he would sugar coat things to make you feel better. That being the case, you wanted honesty. No matter what. Afterall, you deserved to hear such criticism if needed. It was the least you could do to attone.

“I guess I’ll start off lightly. Um...we did find the cellar, the one which Eren’s father resided in. We also took back Shiganshina, though now mainly used for military purposes...I think. Not only that, but your horse has been doing fine.”

“Violet? How about Buchwald?”

“Yeah, him too. They’re pretty good friends in my opinion,” he looked at you to see that you weren’t content. It seemed as if you wanted to know more, rather than being shielded by the lightness in his words. Since you could make your own decisions, so could he. Deciding that he would tell you instead of keeping you from things. Things that you honestly...deserved to know.

“After you died...I barely slept. I couldn’t eat, train, or even walk for that matter. I was pretty malnourished during that time, refusing to have a meal. I did that feeling guilty that you couldn’t have it with me. You passed and yet I still lived?...it didn’t seem fair no matter what was said. I was pretty grumpy as well. Angry, sad, and confused. Not knowing what to do.

When Marco died, instead of mourning, I instead used it as a way to motivate me. To push myself even further for humanity, so that his death wouldn’t go in vain. But with your death...I couldn’t even. It was too painful to even bring up. Thinking of it as my motivation, seemed both coward like, and sickening.

Everyone else was pretty moody as well. Not sure how to approach such rogue behaviour from me, nor how to accept your death. Even though I made the biggest ordeal, they still mourned. However, even though that was the case, what matters is that you’re alive now. We’ve also talked things through, and now I’m here...with you,” he grasped your hand, smiling softly. The guilt that now built in your stomach, remind you of the pain you put him through. Not only that, but the anguish which held him captive for so many years. Though you put him in such a position...he was still willing to forgive you?

You stared at him. His eyes broken, yet also...in the process of healing. Although you couldn’t change the past, maybe you could alter the present, concluding in a better future for you both. You smiled as his thumb caressed your knuckles, loving the warmth. You sat there for a second, to then ask:

“Tell me...is Berthold alive?...in Paradis?” he then stopped, as he looked at the ground. You understood the answer, based on the actions given.

“How did he die?”

“Armin...ate him-”

“What? That’s only possible if-”

“We had spinal fluid? I know,” you sat there spooked. Just now finding out Paradis had such information, climbing up the latter as you spoke. They’d probably catch up to your wits eventually. Though that was the case, and you could have worried even more, you decided against it. Knowing this wasn’t the time to.

Instead, you decided to focus on Bertholdt. He was really gone...though you assumed it would have been better than being held captive, it still hurt. He must have felt so much pain going through that. Not only did he get eaten, but he was alone. None of you were there to help, nor witness such a sight. It saddened you as your eyes teared. The sweetest person, the only person who didn’t want to fight, was finally taken out of it in such a brutal way.

Jean saw the distress that struck across you, as he then wiped your tears. Trying to console you the best way he could. He knew what it felt like to lose a friend, heck he even thought he lost you. It was a process that hurt a lot...but one that would come to pass.

“What about everyone else?...”

“Hm...everyone is fine...especially Sasha and Connie. Those two are still as lively as ever,” he smiled as you followed suit.

“I’m glad they’re still the hooligans they were.”

“Yeah…me too.”

“How did you get here?...and why are you here?” you asked, genuinely wanting to know.

“Shh...it’s a secret,” he joked, obviously trying to avoid the question. After he answered, you could feel the tension in the air. One not wanting to tell the other everything just yet. You both trusted each other...yet felt as if your intentions...were something to keep behind closed doors…. For now at least.

Jean then sighed, gripping onto your hand even tighter. He, along with you, tried breaking the ice. Him with his actions, and you with your words. Though it felt a little awkward, you still wanted to carry out your conversation.

“You know, even though I tried pushing things aside...after leaving...I could never get over the departure. Separating from you, our comrades, and the place that made me feel...happy...normal...and well...loved,” grinning he then draped his arm over you. Your hand then grabbed his which lay on your chest, both intertwining whilst you both were even closer.

“Also...I’m surprised you didn’t move on. Especially after all of that time,” his expression then changed into a curious one.

“What do you mean?”

“Well...you thought I died. Not only that, but you're quite the ladies man. So I wouldn’t see you having much to...any difficulty actually.”

“I could never Y/n...though it sounds childish, you were my first love. I couldn’t imagine leaving you for someone else, even if you had passed. I would’ve died an old stallion,” he dramatically said as you burst out laughing. He loved seeing the face you’d make when you were happy. How lovely the corner of your lips would lift, the way your eyes crinkled, as your brows lifted the slightest bit. He was glad he could see such a sight, and that he was the cause behind it.

“Who said you won't, ya horse!”

“HEY! I’M NOT ONE!” laughter continued to fill the atmosphere. Both you and him adding your humor to the mood. Laying your head on his chest, and moving in closer.

“You know, if we ever do part ways...don’t feel bad, okay?” you stated.

“What do you mean?”

“It can apply to anything but...I mean death to be more specific. You never know what will happen in the midst of battle.”

“Hm...I guess so”

“But, the guilt will live with me forever. No matter what because...I just love you that much,” you smile to yourself and nod.

“I too, love you just as much...Jean. And I always will.”

---

While you two were enjoying your moment, being yourselves, cherishing each other’s presence, Zeke was not having any of it. He didn’t hate the sight of you being with someone else, it was just that...he thought your priorities lay elsewhere. Both in loyalty, and worth ethically. That being the case, he decided to do the only logical thing. Crash. The. Party.

So, he crept behind the both of you, clawed his hands, and placed them on your shoulders screaming:

“BOO!”

“WHAT THE HECK!” you then smacked his arm, quickly squirming away from Jean.

“Heh, good morning to you as well, Y/n. Now, who’s this we have here?” Before you could respond, Jean sighed, extending his hand. He knew that if he let you talk, you would be put in another awkward position.

“My name is...John. A friend of Y/n,” you wheezed internally. He just had to pick the most generic name, one which sounded like his own. Zeke grabbed his hand, and shook it.

“Ah...nice to meet you John. Anyways, Y/n...Reiner has been looking for you all morning. His face seemed urgent, so I think you should go see him,” though Jean wasn’t pleased, with both Zeke, and the fact you had to leave (him for Reiner), he approved of the notion with a small nod.

“I’ll see you later, Je-John.”

“Yeah...same here,” he then walked the other direction, leaving both you and Zeke to walk towards HQ.

“Were you lying, about Reiner?” hand in his pocket, as the other smoked up a storm.

---

“No, I wasn’t. He actually was looking for you.”

“I see.”

“Also Y/n, just for the record, know that I’m not dumb, nor oblivious. I know what stunt you two were pulling off, trying to lie to me, tch,” he said, clearly annoyed. You inhaled the smoke of cigarettes. Not sure what to tell him. But you were also...laughing a bit. Actually enjoying his reaction since you’ve never seen Zeke so frustrated out of work.

“I see I’ve upset you?”

“Whatever you rascal. How long have you been with him?” he smiled as your hands clasped.

“We really are just friends. I met him at a pub, nothing much has happened between us, nor will anything in general,” he sighed as his tone became a lot firmer. Though he didn’t believe you, he still had something to say.

“You need to be more careful. If it were someone else who had seen, even more rumors would've been speculated, you know that? Plus, friendship or not, know where your priorities stand,” you choked on your saliva, trying to cough as his words caught you by surprise.

Before he could say anything more, the gates to HQ then opened for the both of you to see...Reiner...running as fast as he could.

“Reiner?...”

“Y/n! You’re here!”

“Yeah...I am….”

“I need you, let’s go,” he then dragged you elsewhere as Zeke stomped on his cigarette.

“You may need her...but does she actually need you...Reiner?”

Ⅹ > Ⅻ

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romioneficfest · 3 years

Text

A Practical Stranger

Title: A Practical Stranger

Prompt/Day: Day 10 Movie/Book/TV Fusion (Grey's Anatomy - Season 5, Episode 1 "Dream a Little Dream of Me") and Day 14 Different Hogwarts Houses

Tumblr Name:

Rating: T

Brief summary: Hermione receives assistance from someone who may not be as much of a stranger to her as she initially thinks.

Any possible triggering/warning tags: Mild language, graphic depiction of an injury

Hermione Granger strives for perfection in all aspects of her life. She prides herself in having been at the top of her Ravenclaw class at Hogwarts, and now an experienced and competent Healer at St. Mungo's.

She approaches healing magic like she did school; theoretical and by-the-book, not often straying away from wizarding methods that don’t have factual evidence behind it.

She doesn't consider herself to be an emotionally cold person — despite having colleagues describe her that way — but she also isn’t one to devote time developing personal relationships with her patients.

It's mid-January as she steps just outside of the hospital doors for some fresh air during a particularly stressful evening, and her lime-green robes fail to keep her from going numb in the cold. As Hermione reaches for her wand to cast a warming charm, her feet slip on a patch of ice beneath her shoe, sending her crashing back onto the solid, snowy pavement.

Hermione grunts in pain as she rubs the side of her head. It’s a bad day that has somehow gotten worse, and the forecast for improvement isn't faring well.

Try to focus on something calming.

Hermione’s eyes land on spikes of ice hanging above her. Little droplets of water fall from the tip of the centermost icicle onto her face. She's transfixed by the jagged, crystallized surface, combined with its pyramidal shape and transparent color.

A soft cracking sound shifts her attention, and she sees the icicle breaking free from its position. Before she can even move, the needle-sharp edge plunges down and punctures her straight through the stomach. A sharp pain ripples through her body and the intensity of the wound feels like a cold flame burning her nerve endings. The sensation numbs her to her core, stilling all movement, like she's just been petrified.

When she finally remembers to breathe, she sucks in a strangled gasp of air. Panic sets in as she realizes how difficult it is for her to breathe or even speak. Her hand flails through the white snow, searching for her wand that has somehow left her pocket.

Help. I need help, quick.

In the next moment, a tall, dark figure looms above her, and she wants to scream, but no sound comes out. All she can think about is the throbbing pain.

She barely registers her body being elevated up into the air. The unknown man hooks an arm under her knees and carries her at a swift pace into the hospital.

His ginger hair and ocean blue eyes strike her with a sense of familiarity, and she wonders if they've ever met before.

It only takes her another second before she realizes — of course.

Ron Weasley. Gryffindor.

She knows of him from her time at Hogwarts and has certainly heard the stories of his escapades over the years with Harry Potter.

And yet, he's much different than she remembers from Hogwarts. She recalls him always being tall and lanky. Now, he has the strong build of an Auror, and the thought alone makes her cheeks redden.

A loud commotion and flurry of movement around her disrupts her inner thoughts, and she can see she is now in a full room with other Healers and Mediwizards.

"What happened?" She vaguely hears another witch call out.

"Just take it out," she moans as loud as she can muster. All she can think about is the pain and how she needs it to end.

"Leave it in!" Ron's stern voice demands beside her.

Hermione lets out the smallest of tuts, unimpressed by his attempt to call the spells when he is certainly not in the field of medicine. "Take it out!"

Ron's eyes lock on hers, and for a moment, she forgets that she's just been stabbed. Instead, the intensity of his gaze blinds her, and his clipped tone cuts through her just like the chip of ice did. "Leave it in."

Hermione decides she doesn't have the strength to argue further.

Ron speaks towards the Healers at a frustratingly low volume, and she grows concerned when they all shuffle out of the room, leaving her alone with the man who has flaming hair and a matching attitude.

"So, Hermione Granger."

"Ron Weasley."

His eyes brighten in surprise. "She recognizes me."

"It's not hard," Hermione shrugs, wincing as she tries to sit herself up on her cot without jostling the melting icicle. "Your red hair sticks out like a dirigible plum. What are you, an Auror, now?"

A small smile plays on his lips. "Something like that."

His cool tone sends a wave of heat through her body, and she doesn't think she can attribute it to her current puncture wound.

Hermione's trusty assistant-Healer, James, pops his head through the door. "Miss Granger, is everything alright—"

"Go find my chart," Hermione snaps at the young wizard. "I'll need to see a list of recommendations before I can allow anyone to proceed with any form of treatment."

He scrambles out the door just as fast, and Hermione turns her head to see Ron sending her an incredulous look with his eyebrows raised.

"What?"

"He seems pretty scared of you."

"I am not scary!"

Ron takes a step forward, then another, and then another. The pace of her heartbeat picks up, and she chastises herself for allowing this man to control her bodily reactions.

"What are you doing?" Her breath is shaky and uneven.

Ron leans closer, so close that she smells the aftershave from his chin stubble. He's gazing at her like he's about to...

Just as fast, Ron yanks the icicle from her belly, resulting in a piercing screech from Hermione's lips. Ron flourishes his wand, and Hermione gazes at her stomach in awe as her wound grows smaller and smaller. The traces of fresh blood start to disappear, and the pain dissipates.

"What-you-just—"

"Took out your icicle? Yeah, I did."

Now that she is free of any pain aside from a dull headache, Hermione clenches her fists together out of anger. "Nobody gave you permission to do that!"

"So?"

"But you're not a—"

"Healer?" Ron finishes her thought with a knowing glance. "You know, our professions aren't so different. We both do what we can every day to save lives. It's not about being the best, or having the best marks in school. It's about the people."

Hermione closes her mouth, processing Ron's words. It's like he knows that other colleagues have gone around saying that Hermione has a "hairy heart" — cold and unfeeling.

"You needed my help, and that's what I do. That's what you do. We help people." Ron steps back, choosing instead to sit on the edge of her cot. "So, you're welcome."

Hermione chews on the inside of her lip, contemplating how to save herself from this embarrassing situation.

"You know, you're pretty tough," Ron continues.

Hermione scoffs, pushing her head back into her pillow. "I assure you, I am not."

"Really? Cause I think getting stabbed by an icicle, and still having the energy to yell at people, makes you a bloody badass."

Hermione's eyes go round from Ron's profanity. "A bloody…"

A teasing grin splits across his face. "Oh, don't tell me you're afraid to curse, Miss Granger."

"I am not!"

Ron crosses his arms, arching an eyebrow. "Then prove it. Say you're a bloody badass."

"I—"

Her hesitation only eggs him on further. "Do it."

One deep breath later, Hermione shouts out, "I'm a bloody badass!"

His pearly whites shine through, and Hermione finds the joy etched on his features. "Didn't it give you a rush of adrenaline?"

One exaggerated eye roll later, and Hermione mumbles, "Sure, it did."

"You know, Hermione, you could've been in Gryffindor."

Hermione pivots her head with piqued interest. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, you're brave, for one." Is that a blush she sees on his cheeks? Ron points to the faint outline on her stomach. "You've even got your own battle scar now to prove how tough you are!"

She has never thought of herself as brave, or courageous, or bold enough for that house. But now...

She's distracted by the sound of Ron's wand clicking the lock on the door. Her mouth opens to ask what in Merlin's name he's doing, when she's silenced by his lips on hers.

A startled gasp escapes her mouth, but she finds herself melting into his embrace, letting all rational thoughts leave her brain.

At the start of her work shift, she would've never guessed that she would end it recovering from a severe trauma while also kissing a practical stranger — yet, kissing him didn't feel unnatural at all.

When he pulls away, leaving her flushed dizzy, Hermione exclaims, "I barely even know you!"

Ron Weasley only responds with a challenging smirk and a single word. "So?"

#hpfic #romione ficfest 2021 #Romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #Rated T #Ace Safe #cw #cw: traumatic injury #Queue up for the Dragon

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moonbeambucky · 4 years

Text

Hey Neighbor (Part 9)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3827 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 8 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

The lobby of Stark Industries is bright and almost blinding compared to the dull grey that looms over the city outside. To make matters worse, the sky would darken into a deep black in just a few hours, a depressing casualty of setting the clocks back.

It was mid-November with winter closing in. You bundle up your coat, adjusting your scarf before daring to step outside. You were having a conversation with Steve, or at least you thought you were.

“He’s been like this all day,” Mr. Lee said, laughing as a confused Steve finally picked his head up from his phone.

Steve apologized as his cheeks turned pink, again. He was texting Peggy and he just couldn’t help the way he felt about her. They had gone on a few dates since they met on Halloween weekend and Steve was one-hundred percent smitten.

“Well anyway, I have to head to Metro-Gen now so you boys have a good afternoon,” you said, saluting them before stepping outside.

Your internship was going well. It had only been a few months but you were very comfortable working in this type of environment. You were familiar with the hospital and some of the ER staff other than Sam. You assisted Elena with her cases and tried not to forget everything you’ve ever learned while under pressure. It was scary but exciting and most of all you were happy to provide assistance and care to those that needed it.

When the weekend finally came you were thrilled to finish up your hours at the hospital. You were cold and tired, and really wanted to take off your bra immediately. Wanda was coming over which was rare since she and Sam became official. Any time he had off they tried to spend together and you understood it, especially with the hours required for his job but you really missed her and were happy to finally hang out after so long.

“So you seriously can’t eat this?” you said, taking a hefty dip of guacamole onto your chip.

“Uh yes I can bitch, don’t hog all the guacamole,” Wanda joked, pushing you aside as she grabbed the dish for herself. “I just can’t eat the chips.”

Wanda was always trying new diets, not that she ever needed to be on one. She was doing the Keto diet now and while you applauded her commitment you could never give up carbs like that.

She sat cross legged on your couch, moving her fork around her bowl absentmindedly as she worked up the courage to speak. “So I wanted to ask you something…”

A pang of anxiety hit your stomach as it tends to do whenever someone says those words, but you tried to remain neutral, wondering what Wanda was going to say.

“I know we usually have Thanksgiving together but Sam happened to be off this year and I know it’s really soon but he invited me for dinner at his parents’ house and I haven’t said yes yet because I wanted to speak with you first because I know it’s our tradition to do something together but– ”

“Wanda!” You had to shout her name so she could stop and take a breath. You smiled at her, letting her know you were okay with her having Thanksgiving with Sam. “I’m really happy for you,” you said against her ear as she leaned over to hug you.

That night you thought about Wanda and Steve, how they both got into a relationship on Halloween. Meanwhile, the only thing you got that night was a blister on your heel.

“Hey neighbor.”

Bucky’s voice echoed from down the hall as he stepped out of the elevator, seeing you locking your door, with a laundry bag at your feet.

With everyone’s new relationships and Natasha prepping for a case no one has gone out since Halloween and things definitely felt a little weird.

“Hey,” you replied shakily, offering an awkward smile in return.

The truth was you were still upset with Bucky on Halloween. Well, not just you but the whole group. It had been weighing on you each day that passed without seeing him. The closer Bucky got to you and his door, the more nervous you felt and you really wanted to get this off your chest.

“Bucky… sorry this is out of the blue but…” You chewed on your lip trying to figure out exactly what to say.

His brows knit together. “Is everything alright?”

You forced a tense smile, wishing you hadn’t said anything in the first place, especially with the way concern filled those ocean blue eyes of his.

“Yeah I just…” With another big sigh you pushed the words out. “I thought it was kind of rude for you to ditch everyone on Halloween without saying goodbye. I know we’re not that close and you don’t owe me or anyone an explanation for wanting to leave or whatever but I don’t know, I just… needed to say that.”

Your lips pressed together firmly, feeling your heart pound rapidly against your chest as you waited to face whatever backlash there was after sharing your feelings.

Bucky sighed, letting his shoulders slump down. “I’m sorry Y/N. Honestly, that’s not how I wanted that night to end. But you were talking with that guy so I didn’t want to interrupt anything and everyone else had each other so I thought I’d do my own thing.”

“Guy? What guy?” You wondered out loud. When Bucky described him you realized he was talking about Bruce. “You thought something was going on with me and that guy? No, no. He’s a friend from work, just a friend.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to block… anything… just in case.” Bucky chuckled, flashing his bright teeth as he smiled. “Still that was a dick move of me so I’m sorry.”

You accepted Bucky’s apology, feeling a little better about why he left the way he did. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t have left with that girl anyway, not that you care, because you don’t. Although now that most of your friends were in relationships you were feeling a little envious. It’s not that you didn’t want to date but you were too focused on work and school at the moment.

“Well I guess I’ll see you later,” you said, picking up your laundry bag.

“Wait!”

Throughout your conversation one thing stuck out the most in Bucky’s mind, when you said you weren’t close. He really thought you were and he’s not sure why it affected him so much but he wanted to change that and make it right.

You’ve definitely become a good friend of his even if you hadn’t gotten off on the right foot. And maybe he’s been a little busy lately, he hasn’t kept up on the group chat and didn’t think about how his lack of communication impacted anyone else. You were his friend, and so were Steve, Sam, Natasha, Clint and Wanda. He wanted to do better and be there for everyone so he might as well start now.

“If you wouldn’t mind the company I actually need to do my laundry too.”

There wasn’t any hesitation as you nodded back to him, your lips pulling into a smile that grew wider when he returned one of his own. Bucky took a few minutes to gather his laundry and together you walked a few blocks to the laundromat.

It wasn’t too crowded for a Sunday afternoon which was a pleasant surprise so the machines were pretty available. Bucky shared his detergent with you which was kind, saving your quarters from buying the single use packs the shop offered.

You sat beside him on uncomfortable chairs, bouncing your leg to keep warm as you shivered. There was some heat circulating through the room, a muggy wet heat that poured out every time someone opened the machines to check on their still damp clothes. Bucky was a good distraction, keeping you focused on your conversation as you caught up on what’s been going on in your lives.

“Thanksgiving’s going to be a little weird this year with Wanda and Steve doing their own thing but it’s alright.”

Bucky heard the disappointment you tried to hide in your tone but your face didn’t mask the emotions as well. He listened as you explained this was your tradition since you moved to New York. Since you couldn’t afford to fly home for both Thanksgiving and the holidays you had to choose, and so every year you spent the day with friends.

“Why don’t you spend it with me?” he asked, watching as the corner of your mouth slowly began to turn upwards into a smile.

“With you? You don’t go to your parent’s house?”

Bucky’s expression softened, “Normally I do but this year they’re flying out to spend Thanksgiving weekend with Rebecca.”

“Where does she live again?”

“It’s ‘they’ and Arizona.” Bucky rubbed the chill from his arms despite wearing a jacket. “Kinda wish I was there right now,” he chuckled.

The machines shook for their final spin cycle and you and Bucky got up in preparation to grab your clothes.

“You didn’t want to go with them?” you wondered.

“I’ve got a lot to work on plus I’ll see Bex soon, they usually come in for Christmas. So… is that a yes? I know I’m not Wanda or Steve but I’m still your friend.”

Bucky’s expression was hopeful as he awaited your answer. A beaming smile spread across your face as you replied, “Yes. I’d love to have Thanksgiving with you!”

If you looked at Bucky’s browser history over the last few weeks you would find a lot of food related searches: How to cook a turkey, how long to cook a turkey, how to cook a turkey fast, easiest way to cook a turkey, simple Thanksgiving dinner, Thanksgiving for 2, best Thanksgiving sides.

He wanted to make your Thanksgiving special but truthfully Bucky wasn’t the best in the kitchen. He could cook a few things but the idea of making a full Thanksgiving dinner was daunting and he couldn’t exactly ask his mother for help.

Since it was going to be just the two of you he finally found his answer– Thanksgiving dinner on a sheet pan. Bucky wrote out the list of groceries he needed, making sure he had everything needed so he could prepare the dinner.

You were working a full day at the hospital so Bucky had extra time to prepare for your arrival. His clothes were folded neatly, placed in his drawers that could now actually close. He made his bed, well he made sure the pillows were straight and draped his comforter over everything neatly. His instruments were gathered together neatly beside his desk and he made sure his bathroom was clean. Bucky spritzed his cologne in the air for good measure to make sure everything smelled nice.

Once that was done it finally dawned on him that he didn’t have a table. “Good job Barnes,” he scolded himself as he cleared away the last remaining clutter on the trunk that served as his coffee table. It would have to make do.

Bucky opened the package he bought at the store, a harvest themed tablecloth that was entirely too big for the trunk but with a few extra folds he made it look alright. It was an extra touch he hoped you would be happy to see. Checking his phone Bucky began to prepare the food, hoping to time it right for when you were coming by.

“No, no, no,” you cried, passing another bakery that was sold out of pies.

You hadn’t planned this properly. Not one bit. With Bucky preparing dinner you offered to bring the dessert and for some reason you thought making pumpkin pie from scratch would be easy. You were very wrong.

By the time you got home last night you were too exhausted to even look at the recipe. You needed sleep and had no shame in going to bed pretty much right away. The fact that it gets dark before five o’clock definitely helped you justify your early bedtime.

The genius idea you had was to wake up a little early so you could make the pie crust which might have worked out if you hadn’t overslept. Yes, despite the extra sleep you got your body wanted more.

Although you made it to work on time you ruined any shot at trying to snag a pie from any bakery along the way. Now you were headed home, defeated and upset with yourself for ruining Thanksgiving.

You trudged through the hallway, sighing heavily as you stood outside of Bucky’s apartment. Your knuckles rapped against the door, waiting for him to answer. Bucky pulled open the door with a smile that dropped the moment he saw your face.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” His hand came upon your shoulder as he offered comfort.

With another deep sigh you shook your head, “No… well yes.” You reconsidered your words, not wanting to worry him. “I ruined Thanksgiving.”

His mouth opened but Bucky didn’t speak, silently wondering why you think you’ve ruined something that hasn’t happened yet.

“I said I would bring dessert and I wanted to bake but I was too exhausted, so I thought I’d get something from the store but everything was sold out and now I feel like a shitty friend.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the way you pouted so seriously over something as insignificant as dessert.

“Hey, c’mere,” he said, opening his arms. You rested your head against Bucky’s chest wrapping your arms around him as he rubbed circles on your back through your jacket. “You didn’t ruin anything, doll, I promise.”

With a few more reassurances from Bucky you pulled away from his embrace, feeling a little better even if part of you was still disappointed. You told him you would be over in a few minutes, desperate to change your clothes.

Bucky’s door was unlocked and you let yourself in, now wearing a loose sweater and black leggings that would allow you to feel comfortable as you stuffed your face, and casual slip-ons your feet thanked you for. Bucky was equally casual, in a dark grey t-shirt and black jeans so you didn’t feel bad for underdressing.

You stepped inside seeing the coffee table set up in a themed tablecloth and a scented pumpkin candle that smelled delicious as it spread throughout the room.

“Dinner should be ready in a minute or so. Can I get you something to drink?” he asked as you set your bag down beside the couch.

“Wine, I guess?” You weren’t really picky to be honest, happily taking the glass of Pinot Noir as Bucky poured for you and himself.

Bucky barely had a chance to take a sip before the alarm on his phone was going off, his reminder to take the food out of the oven.

“I hope this is okay,” he said, pulling out the sheet pan of turkey breasts surrounded by stuffing, green beans and sweet potatoes.

Your mouth was watering as you inhaled the enticing aroma. “Mmmm it looks delicious. Do you need any help?”

Bucky shook his head, telling you to relax. It was hard, because even though you were still pretty tired from the day you felt like you should be doing more than sipping wine on his couch. You stared at Bucky as he stood in the kitchen, dividing the food amongst two plates.

The muscles of his back were entrancing to watch as they moved beneath his shirt. Dropping your gaze you couldn’t help but stare at the way his jeans hugged his butt.

“You like what you see?”

Bucky’s voice seemingly came out of nowhere as you hadn’t realized he was looking over his shoulder.

“What? No, I’m… tired and stuck in a comfortable stare,” you laughed quickly, masking the awkwardness of definitely getting caught staring at his ass.

Bucky chuckled under his breath. He placed both dishes down, proud of the work he had done. Pressing his lips together Bucky had hope written across his face as he waited for your reaction.

Your hand came up to cover your mouth as you tried to chew fast enough so you could tell him how delicious it was. A smile stretched across his face, happy that he made you happy, and then Bucky began to dig in.

There wasn’t much to watch after deciding to skip over all the football games and sitcom reruns but choosing from Netflix wasn’t much better. There were a dozen cheesy, romantic Christmas movies but neither of you wanted to watch any of those.

“Oh how about this?” Bucky asked as he flashed by Nailed It! Your eyes lit up with delight as you nodded your head. If there was one show that made you feel better about your baking skills it was watching these hilarious disasters.

Bucky had the cutest laugh. The sound itself wasn’t anything out of the ordinary but the way that his whole face lit up while he was laughing. The joy reached his eyes first with crinkles pulling at the corners, his nose scrunched up reminding you of a bunny, and that smile… Bucky had one of the nicest smiles you’d ever seen because it had the power to make your own greater just by looking at it.

You were crying with laughter as the contestants revealed their cakes, each one somehow more horrifying than the last. By the third episode you found yourself comfortably resting your head against Bucky. It was nice to have someone to hang out with like this again especially since Steve had rightfully been spending most of his free time with Peggy.

“I hope you don’t get your baking skills from this show. Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t make pie,” Bucky teased. Your immediate response was to playfully smack his leg. “Ow I’m kidding!”

“It would have been good, a thousand times better than this,” you gestured towards the screen.

Bucky cocked his head to face you. “So let’s make it now.”

Your head shook rejecting his suggestion. “It takes too long. The dough needs to rest for a while after you mix it and I don’t want to eat pie at two in the morning. Not when I have to get up early again.”

With another day off from Stark Industries you’d be spending a full day at the hospital, trying to chip away at all those hours you needed to do.

“It’s still early, we can make something right? Cookies? Is that the same dough?” Bucky asked, because even though you had to be up early he still wanted to spend time with you and he could also go for dessert.

“It’s not exactly the same but I have all the ingredients. Do you want to make cookies?”

Bucky’s stomach rumbled as if on cue making both of you laugh.

Since it was easier to bake in your apartment you helped Bucky clean up the dishes you made in his, feeling it was rude to leave things a mess. Bucky didn’t want you to clean but you at least insisted on rinsing the plates clean and since you were at the sink anyway you ended up washing most of them.

You didn’t see the way Bucky smiled while watching you. This was probably the only time he’s felt comfortable having a woman linger in his apartment. His flings all begged to draw out their time, promising him pancakes or the best eggs and bacon he’s ever had. As hard as they tried, he shut them all down ushering them out quickly but things with you were different. You were friends and closer than he would ever be to any of the random names in his phone.

In your apartment Bucky helped gather the ingredients needed. Counter space and New York didn’t exactly go together, not in your price range, but together you cleared space on your kitchen table and set everything up there.

Bucky ignored his phone that rang as he cracked eggs into the large bowl you were using to mix everything together in. He picked up the bag of chocolate chips pouring a generous amount in the dough, not that you minded; the more chocolate the better!

Together you scooped up balls of dough onto a baking sheet and placed them in the oven.

“Bucky!” You turned to find him swiping his finger through the bowl of raw dough and eating it.

“What?”

“You can’t eat that you’ll get sick!” you protested, taking the bowl away from him and washing it before he could risk his chance of getting E. coli any further.

He sucked his finger into his mouth, smiling, “No one has ever gotten sick from eating raw cookie dough.” His comment had you look back, blinking in silence. “Okay well I’m sure someone has but it’s never happened to me.”

“I want you to enjoy these cookies Bucky, not vomit all over the place.”

He brought over the rest of the bowls that needed to be washed, this time taking over and returning the favor since you washed his dishes. “You mean you wouldn’t take care of me if I got sick?” He pouted, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows.

“Not a chance,” you said teasingly, unable to hold back your smile.

Checking your phone you pulled out the cookies just in time for them to be crisp and chewy. After letting them cool you let Bucky take the first bite this time, watching as his eyes rolled back as he let a sinful moan slip.

“So fucking good. You’re amazing.”

This isn’t the first time you’d heard similar praise coming from Bucky, and combined with the orgasmic look on his face it made you turn away with embarrassment, now having a visual of what things might be like at night on the side of the wall. You grabbed a cookie to distract your mind, biting into buttery perfection with a massive amount of chocolate thanks to Bucky’s heavy hand.

“Thanks for a great Thanksgiving Bucky. Tonight was awesome,” you said, kissing him on the cheek before wrapping your arms around him.

“You’re welcome Y/N,” he murmured against you, squeezing back a little tighter, both of you now aware of the friendly kiss you had given him.

Bucky left with a dish containing most of the cookies at your insistence. He couldn’t help but eat a few more when he was back in his apartment. Before getting into bed Bucky listened to the voicemail he received earlier.

“Hi James, it’s Mom. We missed you tonight. I don't know why your deadline was on a holiday but I hope you finished everything. I set aside some leftovers in case you wanted to come over tomorrow. Call me back. I love you.”

PART 10

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series

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whatkindofnameisella · 3 years

Note

Widojest - Kingcup 🌼🌼

hello i'm sorry this took a while, i am in a perpetual state of getting back into writing and it took a bit to orient myself. but now i am done! kinda early/mid campaign setting. hope you enjoy <33

kingcup - youth, innocence, dawn (from this flower prompts list! send me one!)(also now on ao3!)

“Oh Caleb, Caleb, look!” Jester nudges his shoulder, then shakes his arm, then points in front of them, finger wagging and – okay, he gets the message, “I told you it would happen soon!”

Over the course of the past hour the sky has slowly gone from black to silvery grey, and now a pale blue. The first tinges of the sun poke their way above the tree line before them in buttery yellows, birds calling out their first songs, the sound of crickets slowly dying away. From their position on top of a shallow slope, Caleb has an easy view of the meadow below and the shadow of a bunny as it leaps into the grass.

“That is because I told you that it was five in the morning,” Caleb frowns, “And because then I told you that the sun usually rises around five in the morning.”

“Well yeah, but I got the time more…” She pauses, searching for a word, and then, “Precisely.”

“Sure.” Caleb sighs and thinks that if he wanted to he could tell her that really, he knew he exact minute the sun would rise, he knows the exact minute the sun will rise every morning, but – thinks better of it. Best to let the conversation drop. He’d probably end up blushing from something Jester said, anyways.

“You want anything?” Jester roots around in her satchel on her lap, pulling out various mostly stale food items to offer to him. “I’ve got scones, I’ve got granola, I’ve got – oh!” And she comes up grinning, holding a decrepit, but vaguely recognizable pastry in her hand. “Bearclaws! Here,” she says, and tears it in half, a good quarter of the pastry disintegrating into crumbs in the process, “Take some!”

She only pushes it further beneath his nose when he hesitates, so he reluctantly reaches out and takes it from her hand. It is dry. And flecked with more than one piece of lint. When he bites into it, it doesn’t taste nearly as good as the day it was bought in Zadash. It will have to do for now.

“Danke,” he says, around a mouthful of pastry.

“You’re welcome.” She grins, sugar sticking the corners of her mouth. She leans back on one hand, stacks one boot on top of the other, and looks back out at the sky. “This is the only good part of third watch.”

He hums in agreement, basking in the scene of the sunrise with her for a moment – and it is beautiful, the sunrise, ribbons of gold weaving around and peeking out between the sparse clouds – before saying, “What, you don’t like waking up before the crack of dawn?”

Jester scoffs. “Do I look like a morning person to you?” She levels a look at him, gestures with a pastry-filled hand in a circle around her face, “Does this face look like it loves to get up early in the morning?”

In the soft light of daybreak, he can just make out every unbecoming detail of her features – the uncombed hair, the puffy bags beneath the still-waking eyes, the lines of a blanket imprinted on the side of her face. And yet, she is the one who has not stopped talking since four in the morning. “No,” he says, “I suppose not.”

“You suppose correctly.” She takes another bite of the bearclaw, birds chirping and mist lifting in the time it takes her to chew, the first strands of golden light beginning to take home on her face and glinting on the jewelry in her hair. She swallows, and looks to him, and it is altogether extremely disarming. “What about you? Are you a morning person?”

“Oh, well, I guess so.” He frowns down at his stale pastry, stepping very carefully around very specific memories. “It is the way I grew up, you know, the body doesn’t really – “ A sharp clearing of the throat. “Forget. I guess.”

“Oh!” Jester says, then pauses. “What were… where did you, ah, grow up?”

Caleb inhales, as if the air can gather itself inside his chest and protect it like a cage. “A farm.” He looks up at her. “My family’s farm.”

She hums, nodding her head, looking altogether very nonchalant, and he is very grateful that she is a very good liar. “Did you… milk cows?”

“Er, ja.” He says, and decidedly does not get caught up in the amusement of the conversation. “I did lots of things, but yes, I milked cows.”

She snickers, lips splitting into a grin like a flower in bloom, and admittedly twice as pretty. “I like that. You, milking cows.”

“Ja, well, it is part of the job. Like carding wool and tilling the soil.” He tries to stare forward, at the rising sun, at the gorgeous field of wildflowers and tall grass now dappled in beams of sunlight, but – Jester is still laughing at the idea of him milking cows, so he looks at her instead. And tries very hard not to smile. “I do not know what is so funny to you, Jester.”

She bites her lips together, and when that does not work to stop the laughter, covers a hand to her mouth, and when that does not work, takes another, from the sight of it, altogether too large bite of pastry. It only muffles the sound. She is still laughing and still looking at him, though now rather helplessly as crumbs begin to fall out of her mouth and onto her sleep-rumpled clothes, and – now he is grinning. Damn.

He tries to school his face for the moment, to instead look at her incredulously and raise his eyebrows. It does not work very well. “That really got you, hm? The idea of me milking cows?”

She scrunches up her face in the desperate ordeal of trying to chew, and then swallow, but he guesses that it is hard to do so around the laughter that is still shaking her entire torso. She clears her throat, hunched over, dark hair falling to the sides of her face, and comes up with a reluctant grin. “I’m sorry.” She coughs again, between giggles. “It is just a really funny thought, I mean – “ and she coughs again, “You’re such a spindly guy, you know, the thought of you doing like, manual farm labor is just,” she giggles, “just – “

He raises his eyebrows at her. “Hilarious?”

She quickly raises her hands in the air. “You said it, not me!”

He shakes his head and looks away, because she is insulting and quite childish and beginning to make him laugh. Though now the sun has risen above the horizon and is not yet behind the leaves of a nearby tree, and looking ahead is blinding. He places a hand to shade the sun and ignores the residual giggles beside him.

Jester dusts off her hands, cinnamon and sugar cascading into the grass, winking in the sun as it falls. “That was a good bearclaw,” she says, and then, rooting around in her satchel, “Did you want another one, Caleb?”

“Oh, nein,” he looks down to the half of forgotten pastry in his hand, “Nein, I am good, Jester, but – “ He risks looking at her, the sneak. “Thank you.”

She raises her eyebrows, and the scone she holds in her hand to her mouth. “Alright man, your loss.” She takes a bite of the pastry and stale crumbs tumble onto her caplet from her mouth. So unseemly. So carefree.

He takes a bite of his own, carefully holding the twisted layers of cinnamon and sugar between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. There are some things he cannot unlearn, like the prim table manners befitting to an emissary of the Empire, like his mother’s stern condescension at having to use good soap to wash his one winter coat free of food stains, again. He eyes the small pastry’s worth of crumbs falling onto the fine embroidery of Jester’s skirt beside him, and wonders what exactly her mother was like, to raise her on habits such as that.

The sun keeps rising, and when Jester asks how long they have left on their watch, to the second, because it’s both cool and creepy that you know that, he obliges. And he obliges when she asks him about northern winters, which are cold, and about his favorite books, which are too many to describe. She laughs at him more than once, and he smiles again. More than once.

It’s a disgrace, the amount he enjoys sitting next to her.

#widojest #widojest fic #the mortifying ordeal of writing literally anything #anyways my butt has been kicked back into gear so thank you for sending this in!! wj week here we come

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theowhy · 3 years

Text

[thiam] following footsteps

2.4k / g / oneshot

note: hello friends :’) long time no post, i just never have any free time these days. my writing brain cells are rusty but here’s a short thing that was meant to be a, uh, christmas fic but that i couldn’t wrangle into shape until now. it’s not terribly contingent on the christmas season and i hope it’s enjoyable even two months late lmao

The cold is the worst thing when Liam finally comes to. Everything bombards him at once: the bruising ache in his back, the smell of dirt and pine and damp clothes. But the cold—that chills him straight to his bones.

“Shit,” Liam says.

“‘Shit’ is right,” says Theo, a disembodied voice somewhere off to Liam’s left because Liam can’t even bear to open his eyes yet. He’d recognize Theo’s presence even if blind or dead.

How annoying. Though in this moment, it gives Liam a weary sense of comfort, knowing he’s not alone.

“What happened?” he groans, bringing a hand up to gingerly touch his temple where a headache currently pounds.

“You got your ass handed to you,” Theo says. He shifts, clothes rustling, a crunching sound beneath his feet.

Ice? Liam opens his eyes.

They were in the forest, he finally remembers. And sure enough, they’re surrounded by dark trees and a white landscape, grey clouds beyond them, a hard ground beneath. There are rocks, too: Theo must have found some kind of outcropping in the hills to shelter from the snow flurrying through the air. Had he dragged Liam under here after… whatever happened before he was out?

“Yes, I dragged you here,” Theo says, then rolls his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, your face was obvious.”

Liam grimaces. “Did I get hit?”

“Thrown through a tree, actually.” There’s way too much pep in Theo’s voice when he says it. He points out away from them, towards a splintered tree stump in the distance. Its other half lies not far past it, slowly being buried beneath the snow. “That one.”

“Ouch.” Explains why Liam’s back is killing him. “What was it?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I got thrown through a tree, cut me some slack.” Liam gingerly moves to sit up and rub some warmth back into his arms.

“It was… I don’t even know how to describe it.” Theo frowns as he remembers. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. This big white ball of… energy. Ice. It got mad when it saw us and blew you into that tree. There’s been a snowstorm ever since.”

“Did you… kill it?” Liam asks apprehensively.

“Hell no, I grabbed you and hauled ass. You’re lucky it didn’t follow.”

“So it’s still out there? We have to tell the others.”

Theo wordlessly digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He taps the home button. The screen doesn’t light up.

Liam gapes. “Did you seriously bring an uncharged phone out into the middle of nowhere?”

“It’s not my fault you were out for an hour, okay?” Theo snarls. “We were supposed to take a quick look around and go back, I didn’t know some mythical snow spirit whatever the fuck was going to attack us. At least my phone is still in one piece.”

“What?” Dread sinks into Liam’s stomach. He digs into his back pocket, pulls out a mess of circuits and glass and dented metal. He squeaks, “Oh no.”

“Yeah, nice.” Theo sighs. “What is that, your second phone this year?”

“Third.” Liam buries his head in his hands. “My parents are going to kill me.”

It was hard enough convincing them to let him go on this trip to the mountains, where Scott and the rest of the pack had rented a cabin for the weekend. Ostensibly it was to investigate reports of sudden blizzards and extreme snowfall, something Deaton had thought concerning enough for them to check out. But in actuality, none of them expected it to be anything more than some random meteorological weirdness. Scott brought his Nintendo Switch and Mario Kart. Lydia brought wine.

But they’d hardly settled into the cabin before Scott suggested they take a look around before dark, just to get some work in before Mario Kart and chill. Figures Liam didn’t even get the chance to kick Theo’s butt at Mario Kart before the universe decided to screw him over and make his parents ground him forever. It’s not his fault his life suddenly became full of a whole lot more fighting than Liam ever expected, even into his senior year of high school.

“There’s no way I’m gonna try and find my way back in this blizzard,” Theo says, with the finality of a nail into a coffin. “So I suggest you get comfortable.”

Liam sighs, watches the white puff of his breath fade into the air. The wind howls in long, drawn out tones. His whole backside is wet from lying on the ground. His head still hurts.

“Yeah, real easy,” he mutters, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. First things first, try to get his body to stop shivering.

There’s quiet for a moment. Liam’s so preoccupied finding any vestiges of warmth in his body that he startles when something soft is pushed onto his head. He turns his gaze towards Theo.

Theo, whose beanie has now been placed on Liam’s head.

“It ain’t much, but take it,” Theo says, hardly more than a murmur, nearly lost to the sound of the wind. But Liam hears him.

“I’m fine,” he says.

Theo rolls his eyes. “Liam, just take it.”

“But what about you?”

“I can handle a little cold.” Theo crosses his arms tighter, breathes a big exhale that sends a shroud of white around him, thick as smoke. It hides him for a moment but fades away soon enough. His hair is mussed from tugging his beanie off. His nose and cheeks are red, and there are stray snowflakes on Theo’s shoulders, caught in strands of his hair.

It’s more than just a little cold. The beanie helps, in a small way; Theo had given what little he could. That matters, Liam thinks.

It must be that—along with instinctual, human need—that compels Liam to scoot closer until he’s pressed up against Theo’s side.

Theo goes rigid.

He doesn’t say anything. Neither does Liam.

Finally, Theo says, “What are you doing?”

“It’s cold,” Liam says simply. “You said get comfortable.”

“Comfortable does not mean sitting on top of me.”

“I’m not on top of you,” Liam scoffs. “We gotta huddle for warmth.”

“Sure, huddle. Not cuddle.” Theo pointedly scoots away. Liam follows. “Liam.”

“Theo, come on. I’m not dying out here.”

“I’m not dying out here, either,” Theo says, then shuts his mouth.

Liam laughs.

“Glad you find this funny,” Theo grumbles, but this close together, Liam can feel the way he relaxes, the way he presses in by one reluctantly given inch. But it’s something.

Liam tugs the beanie more snugly onto his head, trying not to smile. Yeah. It’s something.

It doesn’t change the fact that they’re stuck out here until whichever happens first: the blizzard goes away (not looking likely), the pack finds them (even less likely, given that Liam hopes they have the wisdom to stay out of the blizzard, too), or God intervenes. Liam’s never had much luck with the last one.

So he takes in his surroundings instead. There isn’t much to see, really, besides trees, trees, and more trees. The occasional bush. Plenty of snow. And—

“Oh!” Liam says, sitting up straighter and pointing. “Mistletoe!”

Theo doesn’t even look and says, “Nice try, Liam. If you wanted to kiss, you could just ask.”

Liam sputters and shoves Theo hard on the shoulder, which hardly budges him. Theo smirks. “No, dude, ugh. Christmas was like a month ago, anyway. I mean there’s literally mistletoe growing on the trees.”

“Riveting,” Theo drawls, but humors Liam anyway. He looks out to where Liam’s pointing at a bushy mass growing in the branches of one of the trees ahead of them. “That it?”

“Yeah.” Liam squints. He can see its leaves rustling with the wind, how different they are from the leaves of the oak tree it rests in. “Phoradendron villosum. Pacific mistletoe. Don’t eat it.”

“I know that.”

“Did you know mistletoe is a parasite?”

“It’s poisonous, that doesn’t surprise me.” Theo looks mildly interested anyway, and Liam feels a small thrill of victory over it. It’s not often that he gets to share some biology knowledge that Theo doesn’t already know. “So why are people obsessed with hanging it in doorways and stuff?”

“Why do people do anything? Superstition. Folklore.” A particularly strong gust of wind sends a branch of the mistletoe flying. It lands in the snow a few feet ahead of them. “Some cultures saw it as a symbol of fertility. I guess the white berries remind them of—er.”

An awkward beat of silence.

Theo says, “I hope the snow kills us soon.”

Liam’s face burns. At least he feels a little less cold now.

He clears his throat. “Anyway… It’s also associated with protection from witches and demons and stuff.”

“I never took you for a mistletoe nerd.”

“I wrote a report about them in freshman bio. It was kind of interesting. Makes it a little less romantic to know they actually kill the trees they grow on.”

“How beautiful,” Theo says flatly. “You’re still a nerd, though.”

“Shut up.” Liam nudges his shoulder against Theo’s. The corner of Theo’s mouth tugs up just slightly.

Liam’s never done it before, kissed someone under the mistletoe. Hayden came and went too quickly for them to ever reach Christmas, and there hasn’t really been anyone since. There was never any time. And, more honestly, no one else has ever made him feel quite the same.

Well. Almost no one else.

But that’s only ever been a passing daydream, one that’s plagued him in random moments. On an elevator ride back down to the first floor of Beacon Hills Memorial. In the passenger seat of a truck. In sparse texts, shared late at night long after pack meetings have ended.

In a snowy forest, surrounded by no one else.

“Hey, Theo,” Liam says.

Theo grunts and turns towards him.

“What?” he says.

Liam presses their lips together. Theo stops breathing.

A kiss would describe it generously. Liam breathes when it becomes evidently clear that Theo won’t. That’s fine. Taking him by surprise is pretty nice. In any case, the kiss ends almost as soon as it began, and Liam pulls away from the corner of Theo’s mouth. The warmth lingers afterwards.

“W-What the hell was that for?” Theo stammers—Theo, stammering—and brings his hand up over his mouth.

“Mistletoe,” Liam says.

“You—idiot.” Theo brings his other hand up to cover his face, but it’s not enough to hide the red lingering at the tips of his ears. It’s a nice color. “You are so… You…”

“Yeah, you too,” Liam says, not bothering to suppress a grin.

Theo gives him a look through the gaps between his fingers, and Liam expects him to grind out another poorly executed insult when Theo drops his hands, his eyes widening, mouth falling slack.

“What?” Liam says.

Theo just grabs him by the shoulders and tugs him back, further into their little shelter.

“What?” Liam says again, more irately. He turns to look where Theo keeps gaping over Liam’s shoulder.

He finds a great, big ball of blue. Liam’s voice dies in his throat.

His first thought is of ball lightning, something he and Mason had spent one sleepover watching way too many videos of on YouTube. In truth, they didn’t care for the science of it rather than the fact that it looked super fucking cool. Just a sphere of pure energy and light, sweeping through open plains or swathes of sky. This doesn’t feel quite like that, but on the surface it seems the same: crackling, blue-white energy, swirling in a sphere that must be a meter wide, at least. Its core is opaque, like hard ice, and there’s a strange hum about it as it drifts closer to them.

It is frighteningly close. Theo draws an arm out across Liam, pushing him against the rocks at their back. But the sphere doesn’t attack them, doesn’t whip them with a sharp slice of wind like Liam was hit with earlier.

It only drifts over their hiding spot, passing by like an elk through the woods. Calm and constellated with flecks of ice and snow. Something about it feels as old as time itself.

Both of them hold their breaths as it passes. It disappears over them, drifting over the hill. The winds calm. The snowfall begins to diminish until it ceases completely.

It’s quiet.

They stay still for one, two, three heartbeats. Then Theo drops his arm. They both exhale.

“Holy shit,” Liam says, panting like he ran a marathon. “Was that it?”

“No, it was a different big blue ice ball,” Theo says. “Of course that was it.”

“That… was awesome.” Liam crawls out of their shelter to look around for any sign of it. It’s long gone, not even a trail left in its wake.

“I see you’ve already forgiven it for trying to kill you.”

“I don’t want to get thrown through a tree again, but it didn’t attack us this time. We probably spooked it earlier. And look, it stopped the blizzard.”

“You’re way too chipper for seeing something that unreal,” Theo says, following Liam out.

The newly returned sunlight falls over Theo’s shoulders, making him that much easier to see. Theo turns his face up to the sun. His damp hair curls at his temples.

Despite Theo’s griping, Liam can see the wonder in his eyes, the way they glow. He looks alive. Liam thinks about how the blood inside him and the blood inside Theo must be the same, despite everything.

Liam says, “Hey. Thanks.”

Theo frowns. “Why?”

“For saving me earlier.” And the time before that. And the time before that.

Theo scoffs, and where Liam usually sees shutters falling over his face, a mask piecing back together, now he sees a hint of a smile. Something brighter, underneath.

“Whatever,” Theo says, and snatches his beanie off Liam’s head so he can ruffle his hair aggressively.

“Dude!” Liam yelps.

Theo laughs and whirls away, tearing through the snow in a direction Liam will have to trust is home.

There’s no hesitation at all before Liam chases after him.

note: big ice ball inspired by the leschach entite of ffxii. because..... im a nerd :p

#thiam #to you riding shotgun #caiwrites #want to say i'll get back into the swing of things but cries work consumes my life #here is Something. because i still love them sm :'(

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 4 years

Text

Golden Prince Naga Boyfriend (Shesmetet) 2

1 [NSFW] - 3 - 4 - 5 (FINALE)

Divine Worship Part 2

“The prince’s betrothed is said to be coming today, from the Garnet Court,” Kira told you in the early hours, her voice chipper for the dawn still rising, “Princess Iseka is said to have the title of Rising Sun, like her mother.”

“I heard she liked to bathe in her handmaiden’s blood, to keep her skin youthful; a sorceress if you ask me.” Thaile: younger than you and waifish in size added behind you, brushing your hair with little consideration to get the tangles out.

“You be careful with that tongue of yours, the Emperor could have it.” Kira hissed, a warning for the younger as she quietened for a moment. “I’m just saying.”

“The Prince won’t like to hear you speak so lowly of his wife-to-be, nor will they allow us to whisper secrets and gossip of her when she arrives at court for the fortnight. Once their vows are said, there will be no hiding from her.” Kira sighed, continuing to bead the headdress for the crown princess; glowing like gilded armour.

If only they knew what the Prince had said to me. A small smile appeared on your face: reminiscing over the Jade Prince’s words. His heat cycle had lasted for the week since you had been bedded to him; surprising to you that he had kept you coming to his chambers in the evenings to help him be rid of it.

You didn’t know how well you would be able to hide it from Princess Amvalma, for your nightly disappearances weren’t asked of or questioned when you had prepared her for sleep.

You weren’t even sure if her brother had been the one to brag to her about being able to bring you to his bed, but you were certain it would’ve taken long before the news would arrive for her to hear. She’s smart, her other handmaidens and ladies-in-waiting aren’t, the news will come swiftly with the wind.

Kira had been asking day in and out about what you got up to with Prince Shesmetet, and although it left you red in the face in sparing the details, she was still fascinated to hear it from you.

‘He seems smitten,’ She smiled to you, a frown forming at her next words, ‘but how long will it go on for?’

Not for so long, but you had been told not to feel disheartened by his lack of visits from you, promising you that final night that he would see you once more. ‘Little one,’ Shesmetet had you curled into his chest, tenderly stroking at the side of your face as your eyes grew tired for slumber, ‘rest assured, I have enjoyed your time too much to see you away so soon.’

But had he been lying? The Jade Court's living family line and its descendants were known for being sly around other nobles - to prosper and be the most known and richest to all the other empires - but he had been so kind to you, enamoured of you that it hurt to not spend evenings with him; held in his arms so lovingly.

It didn’t take long for his passion and physical affections for you to fester and make you feel so very fond of him.

“When will they marry?” You had asked the two, ignoring their talk.

“Before the season of the harvest, his Grace has proclaimed this before Prince Shesmetet’s anniversary of his two-hundred-and-eightieth year,” Kira said.

There was no denying there was a prang in your chest for the information you heard, and although you were simply one of Princess Amvalma’s favoured handmaidens, you yearned for a life where you could simply be more than that; especially in the eyes of the Jade Prince.

The Jade and glittering court had been packed to the brim with staff, lords and ladies alike, both human and Nagas, watching in wonder as they stared to the mighty Emperor, Eirgotzo on his gilded throne of heavy gold, the old emperor was the same colouring as his children, with streaks of grey in his hair for his much longer life; his eyes gold speckled with green, fitting for his title.

His two children stood on the side of him on the steps, dressed in their colours of gold and blacks: you had helped Princess Amvalma dress in an elegant jade with slits on each side of her long onyx tail, the beaded headdress atop her smooth long black hair like millions of glistening teardrops, her mouth always in a relaxed position to laugh.

Her brother was whom you had your eyes on for this time, for he was wearing a rapier attached to his hip for his grandeur, dressed in the familiar shades of gold and blacks with a shimmering sash wrapped around his waist and broad collar in the colours of topaz and gold, his arms crossed over his chest. Compared to in size of his sister, he was taller in height, by only a fraction.

The Rising Sun was as beautiful as she had been described: her tail colour of a flickering flame, her skin was a faded copper, similar to the fiery locks she had braided back behind her ears, and when she moved, you noted the jingles of small gold bells braided through; jingling gleefully.

It didn’t take long for it to annoy you.

The Princess Iseka had reached the steps below the throne, her shimmering bronzed eyes fluttering with the sharp smile she had on her lips, her attention falling to the Jade Prince. “Your Grace, it is an honour to be in your court, I have heard many stories since I was young of how fantastic your empire was.”

“The Rising Sun has a fitting title,” Emperor Eirgotzo replied down to her, smiling but not through his eyes, “We welcome you to the Jade Court.” He gestured to his children to his right.

“My heir and beautiful daughter, the future Jade Empress, Star of the Sea, Princess Amvalma, and my son, The Young Flame and your husband-to-be, Prince Shesmetet.”

“Your Grace, Your Grace,” She sang when she looked especially towards Shesmetet, “I am honoured to finally meet you and to be your wife.”

Reminded of his customs and manners in front of the entirety of court, Shesmetet slithered down to stand just on the step above Iseka, and dutifully taking her clawed hand into his own, kissing at her knuckles. “The pleasure is mine, Princess.”

Your temper would’ve boiled over there and then at the sight, but you had to remember that for foremost, she was to be his wife, and therefore, you would have to still respect her no matter what. As long as I remain the Star of the Sea’s handmaiden, I only abide by the court of the Jade Empire.

From the tops of the stairs, Shesmetet seemed to almost be scouting for someone amongst the large crowds, and almost out of sense, he had found you; scattered you didn’t think you would be found from the millions of faces.

Your heart nearly sprang out of your chest when you swore he had winked at you; before returning to his place beside his sister as if nothing had happened, his father continued on with addressing his court.

The Star of the Sea had asked her ladies-in-waiting and yourself to draw her a bath that evening, using the scents that had been given to her as a gift from her future sister-in-law’s family. The scents of jasmine and lemon, drops of petals scattered on the surface of the water; a hint of sweetness that was needed for such a long day.

“Dear, stay with me, you can brush out my hair.” Amvalma had addressed to you with a warm smile, dipping her nude body into the heated water as she relaxed. Her bath and most of the baths were deep enough for all nagas to properly bathe in, the bath at least bigger than the ones you had been situated in that same evening you were to be in Shesmetet’s bed.

“At once, your Grace.” You bowed, gathering the items you needed as the Jade Princess dismissed her ladies, leaving you two alone in her bathhouse, situating yourself behind her as you took the hairbrush to detangle out her long locks.

You were more mindful of how you brushed out her hair compared to Thaile, who if given the job would’ve given the Princess a bald spot. Your gentle hands separated each section, starting from the ends and working upwards.

Amvalma hummed to herself, closing her eyes as you worked behind her, gently massaging her scalp the higher you worked.

“What did you think of the Princess Iseka, your Grace?” You found your voice, knowing full-well that you were allowed to speak in front of the Princess no matter the question. You bite your lip, deciding how to question the Prince’s betrothed. “Her title is matching of her looks.”

“The Rising Sun, a fitting title for her late mother,” Hummed Amvalma, “but you would have to be blind to look at Iseka.”

You accidentally snorted, almost choking on your own saliva, urging the Princess to look back on you, her face warm with a large grin, knowing all too well that you were thinking the same. “Really? You don’t think she is becoming?”

Amvalma chortled through her flat nose, swatting the air as she cleaned herself nonchalantly. “My brother’s betrothed looks more like a black sun in a cold winter than one that is Rising,” she was sniggering to herself, “and she bores me exceedingly.”

You had to control your laughter, making sure her ladies didn’t hear your responses to use against you, so you had to resort to chuckling quietly. “Alas, my old father thinks that she is a good match for him, but I think he could do better in his arrangements. Thousands of others would agree to themselves to have Shesmetet’s hand.”

“The ones he has bedded?” You asked.

“Precisely,” Amvalma began, her words made the hairs on your arms raise, “My brother has been with everyone who has caught his eye, but no-one who he has been arranged into marrying.” She shook her head at the thought, ink-black hair shaking around her, her locks beautiful. “It shall be a disaster.”

You remembered your fears for if she knew of what had happened between the two of you, now if she were to catch on that you had slept with Shesmetet, it too, would be a disaster.

“Has anyone caught the Prince’s eye so far?” You lamented, trying to suppress your sadness, not wanting her to know. “Perhaps,” Amvalma hummed in thought, “but he is rather secretive about it all as if he is trying to hide something not just from father, but from me.”

There it was: the pondering, the queries and theories, but you knew you wouldn’t come of this alive. Amvalma turned herself around to face you properly now, her golden eyes glinting in the candlelight of the room.

“You know, you can tell me anything, I have no judgement nor shall you fear me, dear.” She reassured you, the smile dropping slightly on her face. “But, is there anything you wish to tell me?”

“Your Grace-- I-” You blubbered, finally feeling the idea that this would all go horribly wrong. The Jade Princess placed a warm tender hand on your arm, squeezing it carefully. “You can tell me anything.”

You could’ve jumped out the open balcony right there and then, fearing for everything, running out and fleeing before, starting a new life outside of the palace. You knew it was best, to tell the truth, it was better than for if it were to come out badly.

You took a deep exhale out from your nose, setting the hairbrush down. “Your Grace, the Prince-”

“Your Magnificence! Imported wine, a gift from The Rising Sun!” the figures emerged, the one who had come in first oblivious to the quietness of the bathhouse, the other ladies of Princess Amvalma coming in like an awaiting crowd.

Amvalma smiled respectfully, turning from you to look at the ladies waiting with a golden chalice with similar snake hilts curved around it. She settled their chatter as she thanked them, taking a glass as she was poured some.

She turned back to you, watching your sunken face as you finally had her eyes off of her for a moment, savouring in not having to spit out what had been chewing at your insides for ages. “Dear, are you unwell? Your face is pale.”

Your eyes flickered back up to meet golden ones, your eyes darting apprehensively, trying to form a smile back onto your features. “At the moment, yes, Your Grace, may I be pardoned?” You lied, taking the oils and scents as you were dismissed, wishing the Princess a good night, as you raced back to your own chambers, making sure to avoid anyone or anything.

“His Grace, the Jade Prince is celebrating during the midday sun in celebration of the arrival of his wife-to-be. I heard the Rising Sun shall be wearing their engagement ring.” Thaile grinned from ear to ear, helping you sort through arranging the fruit; peeling mangoes and oranges into a large bowl for the guests to share amongst one another.

“His Grace, the Emperor is pleased with the arrangement, wishing his daughter-in-law a prosperous marriage.”

You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face, reminiscing over Amvalma’s words, ‘It shall be a disaster’. You could only hope that this was true, that Shesmetet’s infidelity continued.

“Princess Amvalma gave Iseka her blessings, kissing both her cheeks, I saw it, I was there. It was beautiful.” The young girl swooned with naivety. If you knew one thing, lying was the best way to improve your situation, building you up on the scale; another chess piece that could win.

“If the harvest this year flourishes, it shall mean a bountiful marriage.” You stated, simply slicing the apple slices and throwing away the cores, “It has so far been dry.”

“You cannot say that! By the moon goddess, the harvest shall thrive, just you wait!” Thaile protested against your words, pouting her bottom lip as she sighed to her work so far. “We shall be needing another bowl from the kitchen, can you bring another?”

“Sure.” Just to get away from you, of course. You stood, putting your knife down and took away the heavy bowl full of fruit that could be sent to those who were placing food on the tables for the guests, leaving you to wander from the small courtyard back into the empty court, sticking to the walls and columns, hiding in the shadows as you walked up the stairs on the closed-off balcony.

You could hear voices as you grew close, hushed voices, one more frustrated than the other. You came just close enough to hear a female voice hiss in wrath through the vacant hall.

“How dare you.” She hissed so low, you had thought they had been behind you. You stopped still in your tracks, pausing to listen in closely. “You may be offended, but you know she is important to me.” Another voice was followed, male and a velvety timbre, more smooth and calm in their tone as they spoke back.

“She is my handmaiden - a girl who came to me when she was ten!” She retorted back, her voice rising and never falling from her anger. “You never think, do you? I would be more than surprised if you had any sense in that thick head of yours, I think you share it with your cock.”

“You think this is some game?” She seethed, “You could’ve gotten her pregnant. What then? You would want your wife to be happy about you having a bastard with a lowborn? The bitch of a wife could have her killed.”

“Let you believe and think over these predictions, sister, you’re just like father, thinking over things that have rare chances of happening.”

Sister? Your eyes widened in realisation: it was Shesmetet, and so he was speaking with Amvalma. Oh, Gods, they could’ve been talking about someone you knew, or even-

“Do not bring her into this! She doesn’t deserve the heartache, the humiliation or even something much worse if Iseka finds out.” Amvalma warned.

“I don’t care about my betrothed, her duty is for marriage, and there is nothing I find from the situation or her joyful.” Shesmetet heeded, “I do not care anymore, nor should I have the one I love taken from me for some other.”

You neared to the gap between the columns, trying your best to keep quiet and be unseen. “What are you trying to say, you blind fool? You love her?” The Star of The Sea had squinted her golden eyes towards her brother.

“I’ve had enough time to spend with her through my evenings to know that she is unlike any other human I’ve met before, and I have chosen what I must do, regardless of what the consequences. I’m going to tell father, I’m calling off my marriage to Iseka personally.”

The bowl in your grip felt heavy like iron, your grip loses the grip of the bowl and soon you were squeezing your eyes shut at the loud clatter that crashed and echoed all along the walls of the golden hall, the two siblings head darting to the commotion, finding you there among the columns, a timid look in your eyes.

“Forgive me, I-I.” You flustered, trying to gather the broken pieces, failing at doing so, and hoping that if you were quick enough you could flee and get out before they could catch up to you. Your body moved to race down the stairs, but Shesmetet was there to move to the bottom of them to approach you, murmuring your name ever so softly along his lips.

“You realise father will have your head?” Amvalma remained in her spot, watching the scene unfold. The Jade Prince came to hold out his large hand, and gingerly you took it, meeting his strong arms as he embraced you, capturing your lips to his in a passionate kiss.

“I don’t care, I only care for one person, one who made me change my mind on humans because there is one good one in the world.” Shesmetet smiled, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Father will denounce you of your titles.” Scoffed Amvalma, crossing her arms, “You need to think this through.”

“I denounce them all then,” Shesmetet declared, to you in fact, still he stared down at you like a cheerful boy who was given the best gift in the entire world. “I would rather live in the ends of the earth with this one than to live as a chest pawn.”

“Think this through,” You brought his attention back him, stroking up his smooth bare arm, “you will be letting go of everything you have and own.”

“I know, but as long as I get to spend a lifetime with you,” he grinned, kissing your forehead with ease due to his height, “that is all that will matter.”

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

Text

Shattered Skulls and Tampered Timelines

A/N: Two things!

1) I'm probably not the first person to come up with this, but i personally haven't seen anybody else talk about so if you see someone else with this idea, then that's pure coincidence

2) It's in the tags, but content warnings for blood, a bit of gore, mentions of broken bones, and death.

***

Drifting.

That was an accurate way to describe it, he thought. Drifting. Floating aimlessly through the world, mindlessly going through the motions, doing everything he was asked as simple as muscle memory. The nothingness of it all twisted his stomach and ate away at him like he was nothing but a corpse, rotting away on the ground.

Like the limp and bloodied body of the child laying in front of him.

He never really wanted to kill him, truly. It was the heat of the moment, a quick decision, a thought as sudden as the sickening crack of the boy's skull as it slammed against the wall or the scream ripped from his throat or the way he slumped onto the floor, eyes still open, and totally, undoubtedly dead.

He was supposed to play with his food. The same way cats do, tugging on the mouse's tail, clawing at its fur, batting it with its paws. Only difference was, he had never intended to let go.

Drifting. That's how he'd described it. Carried slowly by a current of air or water. Carried to build the community house by his friends, carried to steal the boy's discs by spite, carried to kill him by anger.

Carried to stumble across the prison cell as a blinding flash of light suddenly burst from the corner of the room.

He was met with a shock of neon colours, first. Purple, cyan, yellow, and what seemed to be a million more hugging the figure of a man with his back turned. Then was a mop of brown hair on his head, pale skin, and then finally a book in his hands, leather with gold strips on the spine and a cyan spiral on the cover.

The figure paused, then looked around the room. He perked up, held the book close to his chest and spun around, meeting his eyes.

"Oh my god, finally! I made it!" he whooped, grin stretching ear to ear. His eyes shone brightly with something more than just excitement.

He hummed. "Nice of you to join us, Karl," he mused. "Not many people have visited."

Karl narrowed his eyes. "And nobody should." He peered over his shoulder and grimaced. "Tommy... you really killed him, huh?"

"I thought Sam already told everybody."

"He did, I just..." He trailed off, as if not wanting to say it. "You're disgusting, Dream."

"Why thank you, that's a very nice compliment." He hesitated. "Why are you here?"

Karl tapped the book. Its yellowing pages and colourful bookmarks ruffled under the leather case. Wordlessly, he pushed past Dream, kneeling beside the boy's body as it stared blankly up at him. Its jaw was dislocated and its temple was bleeding in three different places, the blood masking a third of his face. The back of his head was practically caved in.

"You didn't even have the decency to close his eyes?" Karl hissed, setting down the book. He reached out and touched the boy's arm. Cold as the leaking obsidian walls.

Dream shrugged. "Pretty sure I punched one of his eyes out of its socket," he hummed.

Karl could have vomited. But instead, he pressed the boy's eyelids down, and that lifeless grey stare was gone.

He put one arm under the boy's knees and the other on his back. Slowly, he hoisted the body until it sat slumped on his body, its head lolling on his chest, and tried not to look at the blood now staining his perfectly good hoodie.

Dream stared. "What are you doing?"

Karl flipped to a page in his book, one hand propping up the body, the other following the trail of words from paragraph to paragraph. "Fixing the past," he said simply.

Dream stepped forward. "Karl, you can't do that."

"It's what needs to be done." He flipped another page.

Dream stepped again. "I'm gonna bring him back anyway. He's not dead forever."

"That doesn't matter. I need to make things right."

"This is wrong."

"You're wrong!" He thumbed through a stack of pages. "C'mon, c'mon, where is it...?"

"What are you–?"

"I need to go back to when it all started," he hurried. "Before everything, before the discs, before Wilbur. Before you got a chance to hurt anybody."

"Karl–"

"I need to make things right!" he snapped. "Tommy needs to be okay again. This server needs to be okay again."

"You don't know what you're doing, Karl," Dream said softly. "Give me the book."

"No!" He snatched the book closer to him, rifling through the pages of bookmarks and trinkets and notes scribbled beside the paragraphs of spells and alternate timelines.

Dream leapt. Karl scrambled put the way, leaving the boy behind and jumping to the other side of the cell. His eyes flitted frantically across the pages until they landed on what he needed. "Found it!"

"Found what?"

"Tommy will be fine, I don't know and don't care about what'll happen to you." He skimmed over the words. "Turn back the hands of time, restore the form..."

Dream pounced at him. "Karl, give me that book–"

Karl sidestepped the attack, running as he read. "Things will go back to how they once were..."

Dream growled. "Give me the book!"

"The subject must not know about the original timeline..."

He went to strike his face, but Karl was quicker. He ducked out the way and the wall shook with the impact. "I'll kill you, Karl!"

Karl read faster. "...guide the subject and ensure their safety, otherwise the timeline will collapse–"

"Karl!"

"–and the traveller will forever be stuck in the Inbetween."

"Give me the book–!"

Karl slammed the book shut and dove to the floor. He pulled Tommy closer to his chest and closed his eyes.

And when he opened them, Tommy was gone, and Karl was lying on a patch of grass. He bolted upright so fast that he probably pulled a muscle in his back, but he didn't care.

"Tommy? Tommy!" he called out, frantically whipping his head around.

Good news: the spell had worked, and they were back.

Bad news: Tommy was nowhere to be found.

He looked around again, until his gaze settled on what looked like a dirt cave. Well, less like a cave and more like someone had blown up a couple TNT mounds into an otherwise perfectly normal slope, but still, it was something. Outside it sat an oak path snaking through the majority of the buildings and in front of the cave.

Karl sprang to his feet. "Prime Path!" He turned to the cave. "Tommy's house..."

Hopefully nobody would be watching as he entered a child's home while he was probably sleeping. He slipped through the entrance (the kid didn't even have a door) and took in the view..

The place was so different, now that he could really see it. Crafting table floor, no windows, dirt walls... for someone who was "married to the grind", he had a pretty shit living space.

Now, if the spell had worked how he'd planned, Tommy would be asleep in his bed. And sure enough, when he turned, there he was, sprawled out on his bed without so much of a scratch on him.

Travelling through different time periods, Karl had certainly gained a new appreciation for his life. But that was nothing compared to the wave of relief he felt once his gaze landed on Tommy. The kid was fine, if a bit younger, with his eyes closed peacefully and not a bruise on his face and his chest slowly rising and falling as he snored.

Karl sighed. Travelling was already tiring on his own. Having another person travelling with him was a whole other story.

"Right," he muttered to himself. "My name is Karl Jacobs. I have the ability to travel through time. I have two fiancés, Quackity and Sapnap. I travelled back to give Tommy another chance and to help the sever not downgrade to how it is now. If Tommy dies again, the timeline will collapse. My job is to help him. His memories should still be intact."

He nodded. That sounded about right.

He pulled out his journal and scribbled a note in one of the blank pages. He ripped it out, folded it and laid it down on Tommy's chest.

Tommy just needed to wake up.

Karl slinked out the exit, staying as quiet as humanly possible as not to wake him up. And he was doing perfectly well, not making a single sound, until he was met face-to-face with a white smiling mask and he nearly screamed until his vocal chords went out.

He slapped a hand over his mouth. "Uh– h–hey, Dream!"

Dream smiled softly. "Karl? You're not supposed to be here, are you?"

"Nope! Yeah, sorry, I was just... returning something to Tommy. I'll be out of your hair now–"

"No, I mean on the server. I never whitelisted you."

Crap. He's forgotten about that.

"Yeah you did!" he blurted out. "You did, uh, ages ago! I just never really came here, uh, a lot, so, yeah."

If Dream believed that, then Karl was either the most charismatic person in the world, or Dream was the dumbest man to ever live.

"...huh. Okay, then," Dream said slowly.

What.

"Yup!" Karl said. "Okay, well, uh, see you 'round!"

He bolted off before Dream could reply.

Now for Tommy to wake up, and for the operation to begin.

***

Tommy awoke with a scream.

It was the last thing he'd done before his head cracked against the wall; scream for Dream to stop and then scream in the agony.

Then suddenly, everything had gone black, and he was with Wilbur again.

His time in the afterlife had gone by in a blur, he could hardly remember any of it. All he recalled was a tall brown blot, the smell of blood and gunpowder, and now suddenly he was awake.

He looked down. A folded piece of paper sat on his chest, and he opened it up.

Tommy,

I can't tell you who I am, but I can tell you that you're safe and that everything's fine for now.

You're probably confused, so let me explain. Everything you remember wasn't a dream. You founded L'Manberg, got exiled twice, got killed by Dream, everything. I've brought you back in time so we can fix everything that went wrong and hopefully change the server for the better.

Hopefully you're where when I want you to be, but if not, then we'll just have to work with it. Here's the rundown: Wilbur's alive, L'Manberg hasn't been founded yet, you and Tubbo are still on three lives, and a lot of the server hasn't been whitelisted yet. That means no Quackity, Ranboo, Schlatt, everything.

It's better if I don't tell you who I am, otherwise it might affect the timeline. All you need to know is that I'm here on the sidelines if you need anything. Write me a note and I'll find it.

Good luck. You're gonna need it.

~Traveller

...well, that probably explained a few things.

He hardly had any more time to think when a knock sounded. He whipped his head around and was met with a familiar face.

"Wilbur!" he grinned, and raced forward to embrace him, burying his face into his shoulder. Wilbur stumbled back, mildly concerned.

"Woah woah woah– hugs? Tommy, are you alright?" he asked gently. Tommy nodded, but made no move to pull away.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, I just..." He pulled away slowly. "I... I had a dream that I lost you, is all."

He grinner. "Aww, Tommy...!"

"Alright, shut up, you sappy bastard. What do you want?"

Wilbur looked around. "Why is the floor crafting tables, Tommy?"

His mind raced. Fuck, why was his floor full of crafting tables?

"Eret," he said suddenly. "It's– it's Eret."

The puzzle pieces clicked together. That's right, Eret had done it.

Tommy frowned at the thought of him. Maybe he could stop the betrayal this time around.

Everything else went by in a flash. Tommy's head swam with thoughts, painstakingly trying to remember what he had said, what he had done, where they had travelled. He didn't even know where exactly in time he was!

Then Wilbur said something that set off every red flag and blaring alarm in his head.

"So, Tommy," he said nonchalantly enough. "Have you ever seen the TV show 'Breaking Bad'?"

Tommy's stomach turned. "Sort of." It wasn't a yes or a no, a balancing act.

"Imagine what would happen if we could get every brewing stand off the server," he continued, "and then we, make an empire out of producing all the potions on this server."

His head span. He felt sick. His chest hurt with the memory of the arrow that hadn't even been crafted yet. He remembered the towers, the TNT, the button– everything. The heartbreak, the nightmares, the downward spirals, everything leading up to that fateful day when his head shattered like glass against the obsidian wall.

He remembered everything, and he needed to stop it.

#submission #dream smp #dream smp au #dreamwastaken #karl jacobs #tommyinnit #tw death #tw blood #tw gore #tw broken bones mention #shattered skulls and tampered timelines #fanfic #song--fox

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