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catfuyus · 2 years

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Wolf Hybrid Baji !

Tags: hybrids, mild wounds, little blood, fem bodied reader, I made Mikey blonde cuz why not, mentions of fated pairs, dubcon, noncon (reader is down but mentally fighting), oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, marking (hickeys), scratching, squirting, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unsafe sex, finishing inside (if that’s called something I can’t remember)

A/N: my brain just kept going and I ended up trying to cut it short to spare everyone the pain lol, the brainrot was too strong, hybrid alternative universe, no gangs and everyone’s an adult at this point, also i suck at tagging things lol let me know if anything needs to be added, minors dni, 18+

Summary: You’re not this person. You’re not someone that falls fast or falls hard, preferring a silent independence to anything that could be as emotionally involving as friendship or even romance. But after stumbling into a persistent and injured hybrid in the woods, you’re met face to face with an overwhelming temptation you do little to resist.

Who you stumble into on a long hike through the woods. It’s a rare chance that you’d actually commit yourself to some outdoor exercise, but the smell of rain and damp earth lured you out of bed and into the tree line.

You don’t see him at first. You feel the overbearing, looming presence of something dangerous. Something big. Your steps fall slower. You move more quietly. The damp leaves help conceal your presence as you step further and further away from the abandoned trail.

Until you suddenly meet his golden, glowing eyes. Shrouded by darkness where the light doesn’t break through the green.

Despite their glowing nature and despite the fact that you can’t see very far into the deeper part of the woods, you’re drawn to him. Your eyes fall to the forest floor, ensuring you don’t trip on your slow way over to him. You assume he’ll just run if he doesn’t want you near. His eyes never leave your face.

When your eyes adjust to the darkness, you realize he can’t run. One large, leather boot is trapped by the metal jaws of a bear trap. The sharpened points digging deeply into the leather.

When your eyes meet his face again, you realize the largeness is due to his own surprise. Not the predatory glare you took it for.

He looks rather calm for a hybrid caught in a trap. Sitting patiently in the cold mud with one long leg sticking out far. He’s dressed well enough for the hike. A fitted black shirt and grey cargo pants. No outer gear to protect him from the rain though. And long, flowing black hair that falls past his shoulders. The sharp pointed ears of a wolf hybrid unmistakable atop that crown of midnight hair.

He’s beautiful. Intimidating, but beautiful. Even the masculine features of his face are easy on your eyes.

You step closer, and he doesn’t growl. “Want me to get you out of here?” Your voice is light and airy to your own ears. You worry it sounds too much like an animal of prey, but his gaze just falls back to his trapped boot.

After a few clumsy failed attempts, you finally find a discarded metal pole that used to belong to a fence to pry the jaws open. He slowly takes his leg out, careful not to scratch along the pointed edges.

You watch cautiously as he pulls himself to his feet. Testing his weight on the previously trapped leg, and wincing slightly as he adjusts.

You frown. While he seems to be able to stand and put some weight on it, the injuries might be worse than he’s making them out to be. “Do you have an owner? Is there somewhere I can take you?” You slowly step closer and reach for the choker thats around his neck.

Your fingers graze the black leather, gently examining it for a name. An address. Anything. He’s patient as you search him. Almost chest to chest. He’s so well behaved for a wild animal, you’re sure he has to have an owner.

You notice, just barely, as his neck catches what little light is in your cascade of trees, that he has a name messily etched into the leather. “Baji. That’s your name, isn’t it?”

A slow smile breaks out on his face, displaying a pair of large fangs you hadn’t noticed before. You look back up to meet his eyes and realize the depth, the brown that you had mistaken for gold before.

A sudden warmth creeps over your face. Standing so close to him wouldn’t feel so awkward if hybrids weren’t so damn human looking.

“Okay,” you take a step back, “I’m gonna take you to an animal hospital or something. Get you checked out and then we’ll find your owner, okay?”

He frowns. Shoving his hands into his pockets. You’re not entirely sure what that means.

“You’re gonna follow me, okay?” You’re not even sure how much of your words he understands. What his human to wolf ratio even is.

He shrugs, nonchalant. As if he has another option and is humoring you.

“Alright, c’mon Baji.” As you turn away to lead him back to the trail through the forest, you hear his deep chuckle behind you.

You turn back to him immediately. Surprised. Shocked? You examine the plains of his smirking face, little fang poking out. You glare. Hybrids with a high wolf ratio shouldn’t be able to understand most human speech, let alone laugh. He must be more human that you had originally given him credit for. You examine the midnight ears atop is head. Unmistakably wolf. And decide to let it go for now. Either way, he was injured and needed medical attention.

You slowly weave your way back through the forest. Once on the trail, a few passers by glare at you for your unleashed hybrid, but there’s not much you can do about it.

Back to the beginning of the trail, you realize there isn’t a little medic tent perched up for you the way you were kinda expecting. Eyes darting around the dirt entrance as a few people parked their cars or entered the trail.

You turn to face him. Your heart skips, just for a second, as you get a good look at him in the light. He’s staring off at something in the distance. Brows furrowed and serious. Towering over you, muscular and fit. Dark hair catching the light. Black enough to absorb it into nothing. Absorb your attention as his amber eyes fall back to you.

He smiles.

“Uh,” you stutter, hand bashfully rubbing the back of your head. “Do you see your owner anywhere?”

He immediately shakes his head.

You hum in thought. Leaving him felt wrong, for more reasons other than his injury, though you didn’t want to delve into why just yet. “Okay, if I take you home to patch you up, that would be okay, right?”

His smile brightens, little fang, before a short nod. He seems a little too eager for your taste, making you mildly suspicious. What if he’s one of those people eating wolves?

You narrow your eyes at him just as his stance shifts. He winces in pain as he looks away, folding his arms over his chest as he places his weight back on his good leg.

“Okay. We’ll go back to my place and then we’ll concentrate on finding your owner.”

It’s a long drive back into the city, made short by your curiosity in him. He mostly acts like a man, joining you in the passenger seat for the ride. But his silence is baffling. Made even more complicated by his little chuckle earlier.

You admittedly don’t know a whole lot about hybrids. You do know, however, that you need a special license and need to meet certain living requirements to even own one. Neither of which you have. You mentally compile a list of needs and a flexible plan as you drive along the empty road. Baji is so well behaved that you just know his owner misses him. He’ll be out of your hair in no time.

It’s dark by the time you arrive. Your apartment is a small, cheap little room that is almost too small even for you. You make an honest living at a job that lets you balance your work life and your hobbies evenly enough though. Never having been too invested in living for a job, it’s enough to keep you happy.

You usher him into the small apartment, locking the door behind you. His size never fails to surprise you as you turn around and he’s right at your back. Dwarfing the things in your room as you have something to put him to scale.

“The bathroom’s this way.”

You have him sit on the lid of the toilet as you pull your first aid kit out from the top cabinet. He pulls his hiking boot off on his own. And you realize, belatedly, that you might’ve tracked mud into your home.

The wounds aren’t as bad as you expected. A few puncture and scratch marks that gave up on leaking fresh blood. You carefully clean his skin, scrubbing the dried blood off and taking the time to examine them. Nothing needs stitches. Wrapping his leg in gauze, you seal everything with medical tape.

“Well, now that you’re not dying,” you smile down at him from where you’re leaning against the sink. There’s a little pout pulling at his lips, his eyes heavily lidded, and you realize the hike and long drive might’ve tired him out. “C’mon, let’s get you something to eat.”

You whip up something quick, unsure of how long it’s been since he’s eaten. Making more than sure to overfeed him in case he decides to devour you in the night. Zipping around the kitchen, keeping plates in motion, you pick at this or that as you go along. Retreating to your room for a moment to dig into your back closet. A big box of your ex’s old stuff. Your friend had begged you to throw it out, but it seems your sentimentality has finally come in handy.

Once Baji starts refusing food, you bring a few clothes and spare blankets into the living room. He follows you. Leaning one broad shoulder against the wall with an indecipherable expression.

“You can dress yourself, right?” You toss a casual glance his way while you make up the couch. He’s pouting. Even after eating all that food. Little fang poking out of his frown. You wonder if it’s sinking in for him that he won’t be making it home tonight.

You approach him gently, cooing at him with a sweet voice. “You wanna go home, don’t you?” You can’t help the urge to coddle him. “I know, but we’ll find them soon enough.” Reaching up on your tip toes, you pull one hand up with the intention of gently ruffling his soft looking ears.

Only for him to catch your arm in one large, firm palm.

You freeze. He brings your wrist to his face, a gentle sniff, before he closes his eyes and presses the palm of your hand into his cheek. Nudging it softly.

“Oh,” you sigh, rubbing your thumb along his cheek as you bring up your other hand to cup his face with both. “You’re so sweet, aren’t you?”

He opens his eyes. The amber in them is smoldering. You freeze once again, but his hands trap yours in place. You whisper his name, an unsure call you know he can hear. “Can you…how…um…” you’re not even sure what you’re trying to stay. Captivated by the hybrid in front of you. He leans in and presses his forehead against yours. Closing his eyes in contentment once again. His black hair wraps you both in a blanket of darkness. Enveloping you in the scent of pine and fresh rain. His breathing is a steady rhythm like the pattering of rain on a solid roof.

It’s a moment so peaceful, uniquely intimate, that once he pulls away to make for a change of clothes, the loss of contact almost pulls you to tears.

Your hands fall to your sides as Baji pulls the tight black shirt off his back, exposing the woven muscles there. You immediately decide to retreat to your room to give him some privacy.

You lock the door. He seems friendly. Too friendly. But you won’t risk getting mauled by an unfamiliar wolf hybrid you found wounded in the woods.

But he wasn’t dressed like a stray. And he doesn’t act like a stray. In fact, you have half a suspicion that he’s more human than he’s letting on. Possibly choosing not to speak so you keep treating him like an animal. Whatever the case may be, you decide to change into some comfy clothes and finally call it a night.

You awake suddenly, throat dry and breathing hard. It was a strange nightmare. One you don’t remember but managed to spike your heart rate anyway. Rolling over to check your phone beside you, you realize it’s 2am. Desperate for a drink of water and to shake the lingering haze of your nightmare, you pull yourself to your feet and into the kitchen.

The short path is memorized, having lived at your tiny place for over a year now. The neon glow of your little coffee machine aids you in finding the water bottle you left on the counter earlier. You finish what’s left before scrounging around for a cold one in the fridge.

You take a few sips of the freezing water before capping it and heading back to your room.

The bedsheets have faint traces of your warmth as you slide back in and allow yourself to slowly submerge back into unconsciousness. The heavy fog of sleep wafts over you. Dipping you down and raising you up as your body naturally comes to rest.

You don’t even hear the sound of the doorknob slowly turning, the door gently creaking as your guest invites himself into your bedroom.

The bed dips as he places his full weight onto the mattress. You don’t even notice until your blanket is slightly lifted and a heavy arm is wrapped around your waist.

You jolt. Trying to pull yourself away, but his grip tightens. His chest is firm against your back.

“Hey—no! Bad wolf boy!”

He snuggles into you. Caging you in with his chin resting atop your head. You know he’s stronger than you. Most likely faster than you. The odds of you summoning the strength to get him off you was unlikely. And frankly, you just wanted to sleep.

With a frustrated puff, you give up. “Okay…” you sigh, relaxing your stiff posture. It’s not entirely uncomfortable, and you wonder vaguely if his owner usually lets him sleep in their bed. If this hybrid is just used to snuggling into their human at night. “This one time, it’s okay,” you mumble. “But if you try to eat me I will literally kick you. I mean it.”

In an unexpected gesture of affection, his face brushes down the back of your head. Hot breath against you. Gently breathing in the scent of your hair before one of his hands brushes the hair away so he can lick up your neck and suck at the flesh there.

The heat shoots through you. Sending shivers down your spine. You shudder. “That’s—“ your breath comes out heavy, “not okay.” You try to move away from his face, but he has you trapped. His lips press a tender kiss just behind your ear before he nuzzles back into you comfortably.

Your heart is still racing. Body tingling with an unwanted electricity you try to will away. You don’t understand hybrids at all.

It’s a warm glow of light that shines through the thin fabric of your curtains, bathing your room in a warm golden bronze. The world is at peace as your subconscious meets slow waking awareness, moving in and out reluctantly.

Your mind isn’t awake yet, but your body stretches slowly. Grazing the soft sheets as it seeks some form of comfort. Hips moving in slow circles. Thighs rubbing together for what little relief your mind doesn’t know it’s seeking yet.

A hand runs over the crest of your hip, squeezing delicately, moving over the meat of your thigh. You push back into the feeling. The hand slips between your thighs, settling into the warmth there with another gentle squeeze.

Your back arches into the touch. Wanting more. Your eyes peek open as you allow your hand to travel down where you feel the need most, only to bump into a hand that’s definitely not yours.

“What the—“ you jolt. Sitting up right so fast the room spins. Catching yourself on your forearm. Kicking away from whatever is going on.

Right next you. His massive shape. The wolf hybrid you had picked up earlier. His morning hair is a little crazy. The swirling black mass of hair strewn about him, and wolfish ears tucked down with such large brown eyes that you could only take for an attempt at apology. A little whine escapes his chest.

He reaches for you.

“No! No…” You grab a pillow and launch it at him, throwing yourself from the bed to sprint across the room.

Last night’s events come to you fresh now. The hike. Finding him in the woods. Making the horrible decision of letting him into your home when you know absolutely nothing about hybrids.

He sprawls out on his back, taking up the entire bed. Nestling comfortably before closing his eyes again.

“I hate hybrids,” you decide out loud. His ears twitch in response.

Carefully walking along the walls of your bedroom, you open the door and leave it open for your exit. Wandering back into the living room.

The blankets on the couch have barely moved. Still spread across the couch and sparsely wrinkled. The clothes he was wearing the day before lay in a pile at the foot of the couch, and you notice for the first time that his collar sits on top of the pile.

With the intention of folding his clothes, you pick up the collar and examine it once again. Running your fingers over the grooves that spell out “Baji.” And this time, you notice another inscription on the soft interior.

A phone number!

“Oh my god,” you think out loud before frantically looking for your phone. Oh shit. It’s still in your room. Along with that animal.

It probably wouldn’t kill you to have a cup of coffee first before dealing with him.

The pot bubbles and hisses as it begins brewing its bitter elixir. The only familiar and comforting routine you have going for you this morning. Aroma slowly strengthening you away from your former drowsiness. The hardwood floor beneath your toes is freezing, and you deeply wish you would’ve been able to grab a hoodie before rushing out.

You excitedly wait for the pot to fill. Pulling down your favorite mug in anticipation. As you lift the handle to begin your first pour, you feel his heavy arms wrapping around your waist again. Chin resting atop your head.

“No! No…” you can only verbally scold him, lest risk spilling your precious coffee. “No!”

Setting down the scalding jug, your hands fly to his forearms and try moving him off you. Spinning against the counter to end with your face to his chest.

He’s so warm. With the blanket from your bed hanging over him. He’s wrapping you in his little ghost hug, and maybe if you weren’t complaining about being so cold earlier, you’d be more annoyed.

You grumble, but don’t move. He smells nice, you realize for the second time. Like pine needles and fresh rain. But that doesn’t mean anything.

You decide to pull the blanket off him, and only after you’ve started to wrap it around yourself does he move back into the living room. With the blanket around your shoulders and hybrid removed, you get the creamer from the fridge and mix the coffee to your liking.

The next step is to call.

While Baji occupies himself with finding more of your ex’s clothes to change into (you’re happy to discover getting him into new clothes won’t be an issue), you retrieve your phone and head back into the kitchen to make the call.

It rings a few times. Pick up. Please pick up. Rings a few more. Before you’re greeted with a sleepy “Hello?”

“Hi! Yes! I’m so sorry to be calling you this early, but I found your hybrid wounded in the woods. He’s okay now, I think, but I’d really like to return him.” You hope that doesn’t sound too weird, rushing to get the words out in your nervous excitement.

“Uh, what hybrid?”

Oh my god. Your heart plummets. This can’t be his owner. “Um, his name is Baji. Kinda wolfish with long hair.”

The voice chuckles. “Oh, that hybrid. Sorry about that. I’m his emergency contact. Yeah if you could bring him up here we would really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you’d do anything to get rid of him at this point. What’s one more drive? “What’s the address?”

You put his voice on speaker while you tap out the address into the notes on your phone. It seems to catch Baji’s attention, as he walks into the kitchen and leans against the wall. A small frown adorns his face as he crosses his arms.

“Perfect! I’ll be there as soon as possible,” you smile down at the glass.

“Thanks again, and my name is Sano. Shinichiro Sano.”

Halfway through the drive, you realize you’re headed back into the forest you had been hiking in earlier. Shinichiro had mentioned it would be a bit of a walk to get to his place after parking the car, but you didn’t expect for his home to end somewhere near the trail.

“Seriously, Baji?” You asked the tall hybrid hiking beside you. “We were this close to your home and you let me drag you so far away?”

A smirk was his only response, one of his fangs poking out. You were beginning to recognize it as one of his familiar characteristics.

He turned to face you as you continued along the path. You watched as the sun turned the bronze of his eyes into a golden hue, shifting from darkness to silken honey with each passing shadow of the trees.

Yeah that, and his smoldering eyes.

The GPS lead you to a small trail that branched away from the main road. Weaving through a thicket of encompassing trees, finding a break in the line that lead to a much more comfortable dirt path that the two of you followed.

The ears on top of Baji’s head were becoming more alert the closer you got. Swiveling at every sound. Nose crinkling as he tasted the air. He was setting you on edge, memories of having found him in a bear trap flashing through your mind. He walked closer to you too, occasionally bumping shoulders as you walked down the path.

When a large house came into view, relief flooded you.

An old fashioned Japanese style home with a large porch circling the building. Baji had kept trying to place a hand on your waist the rest of the way there. And each time you smacked his hand away, he would seemingly forget and try again.

You cautiously stepped up the wooden stairs, finding most of the paper sliding barriers wide open. Baji trailed behind you a few steps, eyes searching back at the tree line rather than focusing on the entrance of his home.

“Hello?” You called out. Leaning forward to peek in but not wanting to enter without permission.

You could hear the loud sound of running water and clattering dishes. A few voices not clear enough to understand. You took it as an invitation and slipped off your shoes before entering.

You’re immediately greeted with the familiar scents of basil and spearmint. The aromatic scent of herbs wafting through the air only heightened by the fresh air of the pines just outside the open doors. It’s a welcoming home in a beautiful forest. Chimes are gently echoing out of eyesight.

As you turn to your right, following the busy sounds of the kitchen, you’re immediately face to face with another hybrid.

But this one is different. He’s golden like the sun and small. Hair messy and frazzled, sleepy little eyes barely keeping open as he clutches a towel in his fist. The ears on top of his head look velvety soft, floppy and gentle.

“Awww,” the sound escapes your mouth before you can help it.

He rubs his tired eyes and blinks a few times. Sniffs gently at the air before approaching you with open arms. You let out an excited little squeak as you welcome him into a hug. He’s so cute and cuddly. You had no idea hybrids could be so soft !

“You are soooo cute. What’s your name, baby?” You try asking him while rubbing his back gently. A few seconds longer into the hug, and you’re suddenly jolted by the ferocious snarling of another hybrid.

The small hybrid doesn’t let go, even after you gently push at his arms. It’s scary. How strong he is. Despite his seemingly soft demeanor.

But the growling deepens. And for a second, you wonder if it’s really a bear. If the little blonde hybrid and the bear are working together to trap you and eat you whole. This is how you die. You’ll never help a stranger again.

When a strong arm rips you free from the other’s clutches. Shoving him back from the chest and stumbling a few steps.

He wraps his arms around you, circling around your neck as his head leans on the top of your head. Caging you in with his body. You immediately recognize Baji’s arms. The hair that drifts into your vision. Your ex’s clothes that you had fitted him in. Only the unfamiliarity of the rumbling in his chest vibrating against your back set you off.

“What’s going on?” Walking in from the kitchen, a lean man with a shiny pot in one hand and a rag in the other called after you. He was probably Shinichiro Sano. The voice matched the one you heard on the phone.

His eyes fell on Baji first. Then followed the path down to your startled face. He himself seemed quite alarmed. Confused.

Baji narrows his eyes at his friend. One hand falling down to grip at your hip. You clutch at his forearm and try to hide your embarrassment by looking away.

“Mine.” He says definitively. And it’s the first time you’ve ever heard his voice.

“H-he can talk?” You squeak out. Still squirming in his grasp.

“He hasn’t been talking?” Sano asks back, still baffled by his possessiveness. His eyes catch the blonde hybrid’s pout. The features of his face relaxing as he goes over some mental figures.

“I’m…just trying to return him,” he grips you tighter, “he was injured in the woods and I—“

“Let her go, Baji. You’re scaring her.” Sano tries to reason with him.

Baji looks back over to where the other hybrid is standing. Seemingly fully awake now. He smiles at you with a little wave. “If Mikey even thinks…” Baji begins, and you immediately shiver. He’s standing too close to you. Pressed up against you. And now that you’re hearing his voice, your own body is responding in a way you’re not familiar with. You find yourself gripping his forearm tighter. His heart rate erratic behind you.

“Mikey won’t do anything. Right, Mikey?” He shoots him glare.

The cute hybrid, Mikey, draws a little cross over his heart with a smile. “I promise.” But the smile is something mischievous. Something flirty. And it doesn’t do much to convince Baji.

“I won’t let him do anything. Let’s settle down and have breakfast, huh?”

On first appearance and even at first phone call, you didn’t take him for someone that would have a lot of authority. Despite initial appearances, both hybrids seemed to wind down after Shinichiro Sano turned his back and made his way to the kitchen. Mikey was the first to follow, stomach growling loudly, and Baji released you shortly after. Sparing you a concerned, sideways glance before following them in.

He waited until after the meal to fill you in on all your burning questions. With full tummies and claims apparently staked, Mikey and Baji ran outside and began occupying themselves with what you hoped was playful fighting.

“Mikey��s actually my half brother,” Shin started, “that’s the main reason why he’s hybrid and I’m not.”

“So they both can talk? Sorry, I don’t know a lot about all this.”

“No worries. They both have a pretty small hybrid to human ratio. Went to a normal school and everything.” Apparently Shin and Mikey had another sibling, Emma, a non-hybrid, but she decided to move out into the city with her boyfriend after graduating high school. Mikey and Baji agreed to move out to this house after they graduated. It belonged to Shin’s grandad that never came up anymore since it was too much of a hike for his aging knees. They all spent summers at the large house with an even larger mix of friends, finding the isolation of the trees and the spread of fresh air to allow them to be fully themselves without judgment.

“You should stay up here for the weekend,” Shin intoned, “it’s a long drive back into the city, and it can actually be really nice if you give it a chance.”

You took another sip of the warm coffee wrapped around your fingers. Perfectly sweet yet perfectly bitter. It was a large black mug with a golden manji symbol. You took it as a token of good luck.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “It’s a long weekend anyway.”

The first day went by quickly. Spent mostly learning about your new surroundings and the typical behaviors of Mikey and Baji. Mikey’s a handful, but he also keeps the air lighthearted with his playfulness, and you find yourself grateful for it.

Baji likes to be perceived as intimidating. He likes roughhousing with Mikey and constantly tries to beat him in fights, but from what you’ve seen, hasn’t won any yet. But when no ones watching, when he thinks he has a moment alone to himself, you find him surrounded by the animals in the garden. Birds perched on his arms as he feeds them with the seeds in his palm. An impossibly gentle touch as he moves the butterfly on his fingers to a perch on the garden leaf.

He’s good with animals, and they gravitate toward him. Despite his ferocity and proficiency in violence, you think he makes them feel safe. Makes you feel safe. A sword that protects and defends, not strike aimlessly.

And for a moment, you think it’s nice. A peaceful world filled with people that you get along with. You dare to dream, just for a moment, that you could have a life like that. Taking a deep breath with closed eyes, letting the soft light hit you from you spot in front of the window, leaning against the sink in the kitchen.

There are a few moments when you meet his gaze through the clear window. And you think he interacts with you differently from his friends at the house. The amber in his eyes is softer. Burning. The wolfish grin gracing his features enticing. Alluring. But you resist. He’s too playful. Too forward. And you don’t want to step over whatever is going on.

Shin showed you a few of the empty spare bedrooms for you to choose from, lending you some of Emma’s clothes for you to change into as well. A brisk shower after a long day was all you needed. And after lathering you hair with the stranger’s soap, shifting into the clothes of a girl you’ve never met, you forgo drying your hair to pad slowly back to your bedroom.

The weekend would eventually come to an end, and with it, so would your new friendships you expected. While a part of you knew you would miss them, especially one hybrid in particular, you knew the ache would eventually fade and you would fall back into the normalcy you were so comfortable with.

Stopping only at the corner, the entrance to the kitchen, when you overhear two familiar voices.

“Just drop it, Keisuke. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“She’s my fated pair. I know it.”

“That’s not a thing for hybrids. You’re getting fairytales and stories mixed up with reality. She’s just a girl.”

“I know it.” He sounded stubborn. Voices coming to a pause as you held your breath from behind the corner. “My dad said ma was his fated pair. He said he knew she was the one, back before…I’m not letting this slip away.”

“Keisuke…” Shin sighed loudly, letting his voice drift off thick with worry.

You silently padded back to the bathroom. Opting to dry your hair or at least bide your time to give them some more privacy. When you padded back down the hall, you’d do it louder, loud enough so that they would know you’re coming. Enough to make it seem like you hadn’t heard a word.

After waiting a few minutes, you wandered back out. No one in the kitchen as you continued your way to the guest bedroom.

You felt off. Heart still thrumming erratically as you flipped on the light switch to enter the room. Maybe it was the coffee from earlier. Maybe it was the excitement of eavesdropping. You smoothed your fingers over the white bedspread. What’s a fated pair? Like a soulmate? You shook your head. Plugging your phone into the spare charger they gave you. You could google it, you realized, but the thought of finding something you didn’t want to know put you off.

You didn’t want to know if he was wrong.

It was dumb. But you could feel it. Feel something in the way he looks at you. But who wouldn’t feel something, you reasoned, fluffing your pillow rather aggressively. Who wouldn’t want to think that way when Keisuke Baji was obviously handsome?

Before you could get up from the bed to switch off the lights, Baji’s large frame entered the room. He was pouting a little, corners of his lips just slightly pulled down. Shutting the door behind him, he pressed his back against it and stared at the ground between you.

He’s cute. Little wolf ears pouty and floppy. You wonder if Shin managed to talk some sense into him after all.

It was the first night you would spend in their house. You knew he had a room of his own, but your thoughts couldn’t help but drift to how he had snuck into your room last night.

Being around him made you feel comfortable. Happy. And you had gotten close to him. Close enough to create a dull ache when you thought about leaving forever.

“Kei..?” You quietly began. He looked up at you with soft brown eyes, and you second guessed yourself before continuing. “Do you wanna sleep in my room tonight?”

Whatever had been making him pout earlier quickly dissolved. He stepped further into the room, sat down on the bed beside you, and nodded. Resting his chin on your shoulder, a subtle arm wrapping around your hip. You laughed lightly, reminding him to get up to turn off the light, before pulling up the sheets and waiting for him to join you.

With your face pressed into his chest, breathing in nothing but the scent of his fabric softener and the subtle smell that was uniquely him. Clenching his shirt in both fists, your brows just slightly furrowed as you fought this growing ache.

His fingers slipped down the front of your waistband. You let his fingers slip down. Spreading your slick folds, pressing into the bundle of nerves there. “But you’re already so wet for me,” his chest rumbles with the vibrations of his deep voice.

“That,” your breath is airy and light, barely there, each inhale of him intoxicating you even further,“doesn’t meant anything…”

His fingers squelch as he runs them over your entrance, gathering the pooling moisture to bring them back and rub pressurized circles against your clit. “I think we both know what it means.”

Your hips buck against his hand, grinding in a feeble attempt to feel more. “It’s nothing…”

“Nothing, huh?” He adjusts his hand to slip two fingers, slowly, prodding at your entrance, pushing past and deep into your tight little cunt. Curling as your mouth falls open to let a soft moan escape. “You’re so tight.”

“Baji—“ you gasp as he begins pumping them in and out of you. Head throughly fucked as he worked you towards your high.

“Tell me it’s nothing,” he calls your name softly, lips brushing against the top of your head. The sound of your soft moans and squelching pussy echoing in the room. “Tell me it’s nothing…one more time,” he teases.

“Baji—“ you moan again as he begins scissoring his fingers inside of you, pushing against your tight walls to stretch you out. Grinding the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please.”

With his other arm behind your head cradling you, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head. Exposing your neck. Exposing your blissed out, conflicted face, before crashing his lips onto yours.

Hungry and passionate. His tongue pushes into your mouth as you kiss him back. Desperate and needy. The final intrusion before his fingers work you up, work you hard until that tight coil in your stomach pops, releasing you in the mind numbing waves of your orgasm.

Your legs are shaking as you’re quickly driven into overstimulation, hand quickly darting to still his movements. You open your eyes as his fingers pull out, catching that mischievous glint in his eyes as he pops both of them in his mouth. Sucking your juices off his fingers.

You try pushing him away. Tiny fists against his broad chest. But he rolls on top of you, dipping down to wrap your lips back into a kiss. Tasting the sweetness of your own taste on his tongue. Moaning into his mouth as his fingers dip into the sides of your waistband and pull.

Goosebumps rising as the fabric is tugged over your thighs, past your legs and onto the floor. Exposing your naked half to his prying eyes. He pulls his own shirt off his chest before crawling back over you, pecking your lips. Kissing your chin. Licking a thick stripe over your neck as his hand slips under your shirt to grope at your breast.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he moans into your ear, rolling your hardened nipple over his thumb. He captures the skin of your neck into his mouth and sucks harshly.

He sucks until you know, inevitably, that there will be a bright red mark there. Moving his lips, again, to place another large claim on the center of your neck. Adjusting his hips, he grinds his clothed erection over your naked center, growling as he leaves another mark.

You shudder. “Kei, we…we have to stop…” you whisper lightheaded. The pressure has you building again. Lifting your legs to wrap around his waist, even as you mentally battle your desire.

His mouth leaves your skin with a pop just long enough for him to lean back, pulling your shirt over your head and leaving you finally, fully exposed. He comes back down to lick your nipple, playfully, before meeting your gaze. “I have to taste you first.”

He captures your nipple in his mouth, sucking as you rock your hips against his. Groping the other with his hand, pinching the puckered flesh harshly as you let out a loud gasp.

He chuckles, kissing the space between your breasts before venturing lower. Peppering your stomach with kisses and licks. Making his way down between your thighs. Spreading them with his large palms and settling between them.

“Look at me,” he grumbles, eyes fixed on your face.

“I-i can’t…” you hadn’t realized when your eyes squeezed shut. But everything felt so good, you were filtering out senses.

He nipped at your inner thigh. And again when you didn’t immediately listen. Leaving as many harsh hickeys on your thighs until you ultimately gave in. Opening your eyes to see his burning irises, pupils blown as he brushed his lips against your skin, waiting for the moment you would obey.

And then he brought his tongue to your clit. Made ravenous by the taste. Opening his mouth wide as he explored your cunt. Slurping like a madman at your juices as you moaned and squirmed around him. Pressing his tongue deep into your hole, pushing his nose up against your mound. Your hips bucked uncontrollably, letting your voice take you where it wanted. He held you down with his hands. Nipping and sucking. You watched as he ate you out. Watched as be became drunk on your taste. Canines dragging against your clit. Slipping his fingers lazily inside of you. Filling your cunt. Building you up into your second orgasm.

Your hands threaded through his dark hair. Between the wolf ears so soft on his head. Pushing his face further against you. Grinding on his lips in waves of pleasure. Subsiding only in a drowsy haze. Lids heavy as Keisuke came back into view, leaning over you to press a tender kiss into your lips.

Both your hands cradling his face, kissing him gently without reservation. The bittersweet taste of your essence sharp on his tongue.

When you feel the head of his naked cock tap lightly at your clit, your body spasms. The bundle of nerves worked into over intensity.

Keisuke comes down to lean over you on his forearms, one hand cradling your face, thumb rubbing gently against your cheek as he kisses you. The other guiding his hardened dick through your folds, gathering the slick, and then pressing. Sliding through that first wall of muscle, pushing deep into your cunt, stretching you out on his fat cock. “Squeezing me so tight…” he shudders.

Your back arches, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he slowly bottoms out, pressing his hips flush against yours, balls laying flat against your ass.

You’re whining. So incredibly full. He’s deep enough that you feel the pressure in your stomach. Can almost taste the tip of his dick on your tongue. Grinding your hips against his. He’s deep, but he’s not moving. You think you’ll go crazy from it. Muscles spasming. Tightening around him.

“Fuuuck…” he moans, takes a steadying breath, “stop squeezin’ me like that…”

“P-please…” is all you can moan out, half fucked out since he gave you head, “please fuck me…”

He growls. Deep and guttural, body shaking as he begins to pull out and fucks you hard. Hips slamming back into you as he lets himself go. Pulling back to grab your legs and press them into your chest. Gripping the back of your knees tightly as he let himself go. Fucking you hard and fast, your tits bouncing from the speed and lips drooling from the pleasure. Fingernails scratching down his forearms, trying to find something of his to hold on to.

The slapping sounds of his hips against your ass are echoing through the room. Mixed with your loud moans and strangled gasps. There’s a tight coil in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter with each rut of his cock inside of you. The pleasure mounting to the point of tears. Moaning and babbling uncontrollably as he takes you how he’s always wanted. How he’s thought of since first seeing you in the woods.

The coil deep in your stomach tightens, constricting as your pussy grips him, until the intense sensation becomes unfamiliar. Bubbling around you to the point of panic. “I-I’m gonna…” you want to warn him, that his orgasm feels different. Feels too strong…

He lets your legs fall around his waist, keeping his pace deep inside you. He comes closer to kiss your lips, cradle your face as he moans “I’ve got you…I’m right here…” into your ear. “Cum for for me, baby…Cum on my cock…”

With a shudder, arching your back into him, gripping and clawing your nails down his back, the tight coil pops with a scream. Releases you in mind numbing waves of pleasure. Clear liquid gushing out of you and between your bodies. Still seeing sparks as his hips stutter. Mouth finding yours and crashing around you and he collides with his own high. Fills you with his seed. Soaking your walls in white hot cum. Fucking it into you to ride out your own orgasm, milking each other for all you’re worth. The high you come down from envelops you in a peaceful postcoital bliss. Body still tingling from every pore with pleasure as your mind meets a beautiful darkness.

You’re clean when you wake in the morning. Cleaner than you would’ve expected, anyway. Dressed in Keisuke’s night shirt, and the passed out hybrid sleeping soundly beside you.

He’s shirtless and smells like you. You can’t help but smile as you brush your nose against the hollow of his neck. His arm instinctively wraps tighter around you.

A fated pair, you think to yourself. You still don’t know much of anything about hybrids. If that’s a convenient excuse you want to use to name this attraction, or if it’s a genuine feeling that Keisuke’s described.

But you have a long weekend to figure it out.

©️bajisfist | please do not plagiarize, repost, or redistribute in any way without permission.

#baji x reader #baji keisuke #tokyo revengers x reader #keisuke baji x you #baji smut #baji x you #hybrid baji #hybrid baji smut #keisuke baji x reader #tokyo revengers #this was supposed to be a thirst and it exploded

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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years

Text

“You’re not my real mom !” - Batkids x Fem!Reader (Batmom)

Synopsis : A story about those few dreaded words : “You’re not my real mom”, said by the batkids, to you, in a the heat of a moment. And the aftermath of it all...

This has been in my draft for ages. I hope you like it :) :

my masterlists : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

DICK

It happened so fast. In a quick moment of anger.

A flash, a bang, words said too quickly to truly realize their meaning.

Dick was frustrated because he felt you didn’t understand him, his point of view. And you were trying to explain to him that it was not okay to...

You know what ?

You couldn’t even remember what he did. As if whatever it was, it was all wiped out of your memory when he pronounced those bone chilling words.

You only remembered you were “scolding” him, just like parents do when their child did something he wasn’t supposed to. You rarely told Dick off, even when he would burst into fits of anger.

You always told him : “When you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son, I love all of you.”

And you meant it. Often, you or Bruce would take the brunt of his anger, without batting an eye. After all, that child went through a lot. It was totally normal for him to lash out at times.

He saw his parents died right in front of him. It wasn’t a trauma that would be solved that fast (Bruce was proof of it). “The magic of love” couldn't simply cure someone who was so deeply hurt. Although it helped, over time.

Yes. Time.

It would take time, and support, for Dick to heal. And you were here for it. Here for him.

But there were times, you had to say something.

Usually, it was when he was being too reckless.

Your son could be overzealous, and go too far. And you were so worried about his safety and wellbeing...Very rarely, you’d have to “scold” him.

And you couldn’t even remember what you were lecturing him about that evening (even if you had an idea it was about being a little more careful). All you remembered was...

“You’re not even my real mom ! You can’t tell me anything !”

And him turning away from you, crossing his arms and refusing to look your way. Which was good anyway, because you were an instant mess.

“Ok”, you managed to say, wondering how the hell you were able to get the words out. And then you left. Feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. And your heart slowly breaking.

Bruce found you two later, both clearly feeling down...

Dick stayed quiet the entire time they were on patrol, and Bruce instantly knew something was wrong. He wasn’t there during your fight, and he only arrived when you were already gone, surprised that you went to bed so early in the night, and didn’t stay with your son downstairs until it was time for patrol...

The man didn’t push the boy, waiting for him to open up if he wanted to. And as usual, Dick did finally speak up. In a weak voice, as they were surveying the city from a rooftop, he said :

“I told her she wasn’t my real mom...”

“Ah.”

Bruce felt the urge to go back home and console you, knowing that you were certainly a mess, right now. But he had to take care of his boy, too.

And oh, oh Dick looked so crestfallen and sad as the meaning of his words slowly etched into his mind.

“I told her she wasn’t-she wasn’t-but she is I just-I-I don’t know why I said that-I...”

The little one was on the verge of tears, and Bruce understood why.

He probably understood more than anyone else.

He told Alfred “You’re not my dad !” more than once, and remembered how even the stoic butler looked, whenever he said it.

He remembered the hurt in his eyes, the resignation too. The “very well sir”, said in a neutral manner, but the stiff way he’d left the room.

It took Bruce a while, to finally realize that Alfred WAS his father. That he raised him, most definitely. And was always there for him during the hard times.

That he even helped and supported him, when he came back after disappearing for years, saying : “I’m going to dress up as a bat and wipe crimes from Gotham”. ...How many parents would be that understanding, eh ?

Alfred knew Bruce. And always tried to do his best for him. So whenever Bruce would yell at him that he “wasn’t his father”, it hurt.

Bruce knew it. He noticed how Alfred’s entire demeanor would change. He’d see a light go out in his eyes.

“Very well, sir.”, a small bow, and the stiffness of his body as he left...

And Bruce remembered.

The guilt and the pain he felt himself, as he regretted ever saying those words. As he knew they were going to hurt, which is why he said them in the first place.

It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt his adopted father, oh no. It was that sometimes he just...He just felt so angry ! Like everything was unfair ! And he missed his parents so much !

It was a force stronger than him, he wanted Alfred to leave him alone, and pushed him away...”You’re not my dad !”. So yes. Bruce understood little Dickie. He understood you, too. He knew how you must’ve felt, he saw it enough happening to Alfred.

Once you’d get home, he would take care of you. But right now, he had to care for his son.

Right here, on one of Gotham’s rooftop, the scary and mighty Batman slowly kneeled down, and took his boy in his arms, holding him tightly.

Dick didn’t need more to throw his arms around his father’s shoulders, and hold him strongly too, with all his nine years old strength, sobbing slowly.

Bruce drew soothing circles on his back, and whispered :

“It’s ok, it’s going to be ok. It’s ok. Calm down, things are going to be ok.”

Your husband lost count of the time passing. Were they there, holding each others while Dick was sobbing uncontrollably, for ten minutes, or for ten hours ? He didn’t know. And he didn’t budge.

His son needed him. Just like once, he needed Alfred...

Dick fell asleep in his arms, and that night, Bruce came home early.

Not like he was going to stay out anyway, knowing you were probably devastated, all alone in your room...

************

Dick fell into a deep sleep, and didn’t budge one bit even as Bruce came down the building, rode home, and put him into bed.

Bruce’s guess was that all the pent up feelings truly exhausted him. Also, he knew that crying could be tiring. And freeing, in a way.

Putting the boy’s blanket all the way up to his chin, Bruce laid a kiss on his forehead and then rushed to your shared bedroom...

You had cried too, but you were not asleep.

Your eyes were puffy and red, and your cheeks marked with your tears. You seemed surprised, when he came in, and looked at the clock.

It was only midnight ?

“Hello, my love.”

He sat down next to you, and from the way he ran his fingers through your hair, and caressed your cheek, wiping the salty tears from it...You knew he knew.

He knew how devastated you felt. How those simple words that would mean nothing for many, truly wounded you.

He knew how much you loved that boy, how as soon as your eyes laid on his little face that terrible night he lost his parents, you felt like he was going to be your son one day.

He knew how much you’d sacrifice for that kid’s happiness, how far you’d go to keep him safe...And so, how hurtful him telling you you weren’t his real mother must’ve felt.

There was no need for words.

He knew what to do. He laid next to you, and you just cuddled up to him, letting him wrap you up in his warm embrace.

He drew those same soothing circles on your back than he did on Dick’s. And whispered :

“He didn’t mean it. He truly didn’t. He loves you, you know. I love you too.”

You fell asleep to his words of love and reassurance, finally letting go after hours of not being able to sleep, reenacting the terrible scene in your head over and over again, making yourself feel worst each times.

************

You woke up around 4 am, with Bruce’s arms wrapped around you.

He was asleep and escaping his grasp (without Alfred’s help) took you a little bit..but you managed to leave without waking him up.

He did groan a little at the loss of your warmth, and grabbed your pillow to hold it against his chest. Which was extremely cute, and oh how glad you were to be the only one to see this side of him.

You went down to the kitchen and...

Dick was coming from the other door, opposite to the one you took.

The kitchen had three access. Two doors facing each others, and one on the third wall. The door you took was because you got a little lost and did a detour through the drawing room. Dick, however, came from the door you should’ve come from too, which was the one you accessed from the West Wing third corridors, which was directly under your bedroom, and Dick’s.

The boy probably stood up a little after you, and while you got lost in your own home (again), he took the normal way and...

Boom. Here you both were, arriving in the kitchen at the same time.

There was a small silence. Awkward. And...

Your heart tightened.

Dick was sort of cowering backward in fear. Fear of what ?

Oh. But of course.

“He didn’t mean it.”

Bruce whispered to you many times, before you fell asleep. And the way Dick looked at you, worry in his eyes...He was thinking you were mad at him. And the regret in his pupils was as obvious as that fact.

“Ice cream ?”

You ask him. His eyes widen a bit, and you can almost see the gears in his brain trying to piece everything together. You’re...not mad at him ?

Of course you’re not. You felt sad, and lost, and hurt, yes. But never did you feel any hint of anger. Of course not.

You take out his favorite flavor from the freezer, and settle a bowl in front of one of the high stool around the counter.

At that time, Dick was so tiny. A very short little bean. And he’d stay small for a long time, only having a sudden spurt when he was around fifteen.

He climbed onto the stool, and watched you as you gave him some ice cream and a spoon, and then sat down next to him to eat some as well.

The silent was slowly turning less awkward.

Slowly, and unsurely, Dick picked his spoon up and looked at you. And completely missed his mouth, the ice cream spreading on his cheek instead.

You turn around to look at him, ice cream on his cheek, and he’s clearly embarrassed, as a tint of color slowly rises on his face.

You don’t really know why, but something snaps in you and you start laughing. And laughing. And laughing.

Because honestly, the kid missing his mouth as he picked his spoon up full of ice cream, is kinda funny right ? And also, all the tension and stress you felt suddenly broke with this simple, silly thing.

Unsure at first, Dick just looked at you. But your laughter quickly spread to him, and soon enough, you both were bursting out in laughter.

Anyone not knowing what happened, would probably think you were both crazy, laughing that hard for no apparent reasons.

Instinctually, you ruffle his hair and Dick gasps. You really weren’t mad at him ?!

You realized what you did, and slowly, both your laughter subsided. There was a small silence as Dick stared at you, and you stared back, and then :

“I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it !”

He says in a small voice, and he can’t add anything else as you just pick him up and hold him tight against your heart, and you say :

“I know.”

And it’s all he needs to realize you’re not really mad at him, and although he messed up and hurt you, right now, you were both on the path of recovery...

Next morning, Bruce woke up alone in bed, which greatly distressed him as usual (he often woke up first). But a gut feeling was telling him that...

He found you asleep with Dick in his bed, holding him tightly.

************

After that event, you sat down with him, so you could have a serious talk about the underlining issue this raised. Talk about something important.

“Little bird, you know I love you, right ?”

He nods, but still cannot speak quite yet, doesn’t have the energy to.

“I want you to understand something. Something vital. Are you listening ?”

He nods again, his eyes fixed on you. And he’s listening, oh he definitely is.

“It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to lash out. It’s ok to not be alright. It’s ok to make mistakes.”

He nods, a little slower than before, and you can see his eyes slowly becoming wetter and wetter.

“It’s ok. It really is. I’m here. And I love you. Even when you don’t want me around. Even when you push me away. I’m here. And I always will be. Ok ?”

He nods one last time, unable to hold his tears, and then his little arms latch around you, and he refuses to let go for well over an hour...

Oh. Sweet, sweet boy.

Your son.

************

Even now, at age twenty seven, Dick still often think about this day. And the regrets are as burning as they were back then.

He often thought about it.

Whenever you did something for him, went out of your way to make him happy, or were just there for him, always...

He’d have a flashback of this day, and feel nothing but regret and anger at his younger self.

And then you’d read him like an open book. Know exactly what he was thinking, and would slowly shake your head, and say : “I know I often said that, but I will say it till the day I die if I need to : when you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son. I love all of you. Even when you’re a little bit of a jerk.” and you’d wink at him, making him chuckle and feel a surge of affection toward you.

Kind of like the ones you’d feel sometimes. A sudden urge to hug your family, to tell them what they mean to you. Both you and Dick understood since a long time that with the life you all lead, you never knew what could happen, and should never waste a “I love you” if you felt like saying it.

Well, the apple never fall far from the tree ?

Yes. Because you were his mom. And nothing would ever change his mind on that. Ever.

JASON

"Well Jason, you did it you idiot !”

He says to himself in the mirror, and oh he could’ve punch himself if it was possible. He took his desk chair, and threw it across his bedroom, letting out a scream of frustration.

He went to his desk, and threw everything that was on it on the floor. He then went to his book shelves and...

There. Your book. The one you wrote for him.

Jason fell to his knee, holding his head in his hands, crying softly.

Yes. Yes he did it...He ruined this one chance life gave him to have parents.

He hurt one of the person that meant the most to him, one of the person he loved the most...His mom. You.

Because you were his mom, no matter what he told you, in that moment of anger as you scolded him after he did something dangerous during one of his patrol.

He hadn’t been allowed to go out for long, by then. And Bruce had already scolded him before for the very same thing, so when you did it too, he had enough and...it happened before he could think about it.

He was angry, about the lack of trust and about the sermons, and his brain tried to hurt without even thinking about it. Triggered by years of living in the streets, where he had to think quick and act right away, and then suffer the consequences. If he wasn’t fast enough, it could be the end of him...

A gut reaction triggered by years of being all on his own, having to fend for himself. His brain went into overdrive, “hurt” is what it set into motion.

“You’re not my mom !”

And that was it...

As he saw your face fell, and his father’s face turn angry, he knew. He knew he messed up. He messed everything up, as usual !

“Jason !”

Bruce called, but Jason wasn’t about to stop. He ran out of the cave, right to his bedroom. Oh, oh but if only he stayed a little longer. He’d realize that his father wasn’t angry, just hurt as well.

Hurt to see the woman he loved being hurt.

Not angry. Ah but being in pain could sometimes look like you are mad ? And Bruce hadn't been able to hide his frown as he heard Jason’s words...

“Let him be, Bruce.”

You say in a weak voice. You knew Jason, you knew sometimes he needed to cool down on his own. That he could be impulsive, but always came around.

Ah. But that time, he needed everything but to be alone.

Because, as he thought he ruined his one chance at having a real family, he thought...

“Better to leave before they throw me away !”

He knew he could never bear to face you and Bruce, as you’d certainly tell him you were “un-adopting” him. Jason saw it happened before. Someone thinking their adopted kid was “too much”, and sending them back.

It was awful, of course. But it happened. For real. And Jason knew that life could really suck...But her couldn’t bear to face you as you’d send him away.

Worst, what if you just send Alfred and that was it ?

No. Jason would leave before you could do that. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t.

Filling his backpack with some clothes, and snacks, he opened his window and slid down the gutter all the way to the ground, and then ran away into the night. Tears trailing down behind him, as he left behind the one place in which he ever felt safe, warm, and loved.

In the meantime, you and Bruce were unaware of that, and slowly falling asleep in each others’ arms... As usual, Bruce was there for you.

************

“Jason ? I thought I wouldn’t see you anymore after you got adopted by dem fancy fellas. Are you here to get some work ?”

“No.”

“Really, why did you come then ?”

“I didn’t, I’m just passing by.”

“Nah, don’t believe it. Once a bad boy, always a bad boy !”

“TAKE IT BACK !”

As he ran away, Jason went back to a place he thought he never would need to. A few intricate alleys, in the Bowery, under the main city.

The Bowery, a filthy underground neighborhood, hell on Earth for many. Although things did improve when Batman started his work a few years back.

“Wow there tiger, relax.”

Jason came in this specific area for only one thing. Retrieve a few items he left behind, thinking he would never need it again because he was leaving behind this life.

He had a hideout, not far. In which he hid some materials to survive in the streets. He thought he probably had to go back to stealing cars’ tires...Although maybe he should change it. Thinking of what happened last time he did this hurt his heart.

He knew that next time he’d get caught stealing tires, the person wouldn’t end up adopting him...Anyway, he didn’t want any other parents but you and Bruce.

And he messed that up so bad, by being so mean to you !

“Listen, it’s not because you got all fancy schmancy that you can talk to me like that. Remember who’s boss in this part of town.”

Batman did a lot of good to the city, but also, by getting rid of some big players in the “crime business”, he allowed small time thugs to climb up the ladders...It felt, at times, like there always was someone to replace whoever Bruce just put behind bars...

The man who was talking to Jason, used to be a small time criminal. Turned boss, when the Batman kept arresting all the people above him. Jason used to “work” for him, bringing him watches or jewelry that he’d exchange against cash.

Damn. He never thought he’d ever see him again... Oh and he definitely didn’t think this through.

As the new boss, who’s name was Johnny Clancy, told him that he’d forever be a “bad boy”, Jason saw red and...getting mad at a crime boss was a bad idea.

Before he could even think about an escape plan, Jason was surrounded by dangerous armed men.

“How dare you talk to me like that ? Mmm. The Waynes adopted you right ? Mmm. They’re loaded. Probably would pay a fortune to get you back uh ? And to think they’re gonna give me a lot of cash to get a little runaway brat back haha. Because that’s what you did right ? You ran away ? As you always did before mm ? You know, I observed you Jason Todd. I saw you run away from anyone getting close. I saw you.”

Jason’s heart didn’t need anyone to push and squiggle the knife he felt in around some more. He had just lost his family. Did he need more reminder that he always fucked up ?!

“They won’t give you any money, they don’t want me anymore...”

But Johnny didn’t believe him, of course. He told two of his thugs to grab the boy, but Jason, by instinct, dropped them to the floor with a few well placed kicks and punches.

And that was enough to unleash Johnny Clancy’s wrath.

See, he was a new boss. He had to assert dominance. And an eight years old kid making a fool of him and his gang ? That wouldn’t go.

So what if he had to off a child ? Anything to keep climbing up, and leave the Bowery’s slums.

************

“Have you seen Jason ?”

Bruce asks you, a few hours after your fight with him.

“What ? No, I thought he was with you ?”

“No, he skipped his training and I thought he might be with you, apologizing for what he said yesterday ? You know, sounds like something he would do.”

“I haven’t seen him since, you know. I thought he was avoiding me...”

“He would never.”

“Bruce...”

“He would never, my love. I know what he said hurt you, but I’m sure he’s regretting it right now. You should go see him, he’s probably sulking in his bedroom. I wouldn’t be surprised if you meet him up the stairs as he comes down to say sorry.”

“Bruce...”

Your husband comes to you, and takes your hands in his.

“You know him. He’s impulsive, and a little abrasive sometimes. But he’s a sweet child. And he regrets his bursts, you know it. Tonight was just tough, we both scolded him, he’s not used to it.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am, I’m-”

“I swear to God if you say “I’m Batman” I’m going to smack you.”

Bruce smiles softly at you, glad he managed to at least made the tension go away a little. He pecks your lips quickly, and watches you as you leave to go to your son’s bedroom.

He was about to go down the Batcave, when you came back, panicked :

“He’s gone ! Jason’s gone !”

Ah. Bruce knew that placing a tracker in his children’s molars was a good idea.

************

“HOW HARD IS IT TO CATCH A FUCKING KID ?!”

Jason runs as fast as he can, without looking back. He managed to break the line of thugs coming at him, and escape in-between to of them who didn’t pull their guns out quite yet.

They were shooting at him. With no hesitation.

Johnny was set on proving he was an unscrupulous boss. To earn everyone’s respect. So what if he had to shoot a kid ? It’d send everyone a message. He’d back off from nothing !

Jason turned in an alley and...Damn it ! He must’ve taken a wrong turn at some point, it had been a while, since he roamed the Bowery’s alleyways...

He was faced by a wall, stuck. And they quickly caught up to him.

“Wooouh, you’re fast kid. And you’re sneaky. Too bad you’re such a brat, I bet you could be a nice addition to our-”

Johnny Clancy never finished his sentence. In fact, he never could properly speak after that night. After getting his jaw broken into a thousand pieces by the Batman’s fist.

Bruce had come down from nowhere, with...you in his arms ?!

This was the first time Jason saw you wear the costume he saw a few times in the Batcave. He thought you wore it only to go to the JLA’s watchtower, to hide your identity. Not that you could actually...fight ?!

And wow, you definitely could hold your own ! You made a few disarming pass, taking the guns away from all the men before they could even react, and letting Bruce finish them off with well placed kicks and punches.

Oh and that night, the Batman unleashed his rage and unforgiveness full force. How dare they touch his son ?!

You didn’t have anything to envy from your husband either, however, as you worked through Johnny’s gang rather fast too.

That night, the both of you exterminated (figure of speech, of course, neither of you ever killed, that was the one big rule...but there were never a rule against breaking a few bones) Johnny Clancy’s gang, who dared to even think of hurting your precious son.

Jason, holding his backpack tight against him, couldn’t believe his eyes. You two came to save him ? But...why ?

He messed up. You’d surely not want him around anymore !

Once Bruce dropped the last man, you rushed to Jason and before he could utter a sound, took him in your arms.

“Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re safe baby, I’m so glad you’re...”

Your voice broke at the end, and you chocked, the emotions too strong and squeezing your throat.

Jason didn’t understand. And through his surprise, he managed to say :

“I thought-I thought you’d never want to see me again, and that you wouldn’t want to be my mom anymore.”

You hold him even tighter, as you feel Bruce get down on his knee and bring the both of you in his arms.

“Oh sweety, never. Never.”

You say, not letting go.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...”

Your son manage to choke out, before sobbing profusely and holding on to you and Bruce.

“I’m just glad you’re safe...it’s ok, it’s ok it’s already forgotten...”

And it was. As soon as you saw that Jason-That your SON, was missing, you forgot he ever told you “you’re not my mom”. You forgot and it truly didn’t matter anymore, as all you cared about was to find him, and make sure he was safe.

“Jason, oh my little Jason, I’m so glad you’re safe...”

Wether it is a conscious things or not, he returns your embrace fiercely, holding tightly as he looks up at you. It almost feels like he wants to make sure you really are there. And won’t go anywhere. Like everyone else did in his life.

Jason was tired of losing those close to him. Those he cared about. Sometimes, he’d push them away, by fear of getting attached again just for life to rip them away from him. So he held onto you, as you held him back.

Tightly against your heart.

“Mom...”

This was the day Jason Todd realized something very important : He wasn’t alone anymore. He had parents who loved him, and he loved them back.

So much.

And they’d never let him go. Never.

************

Years later, this love he had for you and Bruce, turned out to be the very reason he became “Red Hood”.

From that day he told you : “you’re not my real mom !”, he felt like he belonged. Like finally, the people he loved loved him back. Like he was cherished. And then Bruce didn’t avenge him. He let Joker get away. And you let him do it. You, the people he trusted and loved most in the world, betrayed him...

He felt like he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth Bruce breaking his one rule to avenge him. He wasn’t worth it...He didn’t matter enough.

Jason felt so angry. For years. He wanted to hurt you, to hurt Bruce. To show you what it felt like. What HE felt like.

But Jason has always been a strong one. You knew it. You told him enough times : “you’re a fighter, my Jason. You went through so much, and always came out of it. You lost a lot on the way my little one, but you never give up. You never give up...”

You never give up.

Love.

It’s what drove him to become the Red Hood. It’s what drove him over the edge. What gave him so much pain.

Rather, the feeling of not being loved. The thought all you and Bruce said to him, about how much you cared and loved him, was a lie.

Yes. The thought that you lied about loving him, is what broke him. What made him find every way possible to truly, truly hurt you two.

You never give up.

He was so angry. But he never could quite give up on his family...that’s why he didn’t stay with the Al’ghuls. That why they didn’t keep him.

He could never forget you and Bruce. Move on.

He could never.

Jason was a strong lad. Strong enough to see past his hate and need of revenge. His pain. His deep trauma.

It took a while. But the change came from him. He’s the one that gave you another chance. And it allowed him to realize...nothing was a lie.

And you got your son back.

Because you showed him. You showed him nothing was a lie.

When his dad never gave up on him even as he killed more and more people, and even as Jason saw him completely erase people who used to be close from him as soon as they killed once. When you refused to let him go. When Bruce kept going back, even as he knew Jason would fight him and try to hurt him. When you pleaded with him, even when you knew his answer would be the same...

Jason never gave up.

But you didn’t either.

“You’re not my mom”, are words he never meant. Not even once. Not even when he was the “old” Red Hood, the one that killed mercilessly any criminals, and that was trying to be exactly what Batman wasn’t.

“You’re not my mom”, even at his worst, at a time he suffered greatly, Jason never meant it. He never did.

And ultimately, it’s this filial love, and the love you and Bruce had for him, that brought him back out of the dark pit the Joker pushed him in...

TIM

Tim knew that his overly pragmatic mind sometimes could make him sound tactless. That he had trouble, sometimes, expressing himself properly.

He knew that what he said, although it could be the factual truth, could be perceived as not being very nice...

He knew, yet sometimes, he couldn’t help himself.

“But you’re not my mom.”

He told you that day, as you asked when was the “mother/child day” at school.

Tim’s school had a day each year, during which every mother would come and do different activities with their kids. You did it with Dick and Jason, and it was always great fun, and amazing bonding time.

By then, Tim had been with you and Bruce for over a year now. And he did, see you as his mom. However, he was a little too set, at the time, on rules and specifics. In the “mother/child day” rulebook, it “specifically” said that the actual child’s mother had to come, not the nanny or anyone else.

In Tim’s mind, although he did see you as his mom, he thought the school wouldn’t. For him, the way the rules were written, were clearly stating his birth mother had to come. And the official adoption papers were not processed yet. Those took quite a while.

He had been living with you for over a year. He called you and Bruce “mom and dad”. He truly considered you two his parents. But the official papers were not done quite yet. So to him, in the eye of the law (be it a silly school rule), you weren’t his mom quite yet.

So when he said : “but you’re not my mom”, that’s what he meant. Of course, you misunderstood...

How could you guess that Tim was thinking that only his “birth mother” could take him, because officially right now he didn’t have a mom, just “guardians”...

His mother was dead. Has been dead for a while, now. And even if she wasn’t, Tim knew she’d never come at this event...She wasn’t the caring type of mother. Not like you. Which is why it really bummed him out that those rules were so clearly stated like that !

What Tim misunderstood, is that this specific rule had been added to the rulebook because many family would send their nanny, or a big sister, instead of the mom. Because Tim was of course in Gotham’s Academy, full of rich families, in which the moms were very busy...

Which is why such a day existed. Some kids spend quality times with their mom only on this school day. Nowadays, everyone made an effort to come (the fact you appeared, the famed (Y/N) Wayne, a few years back, with Dick, and it made all the papers’ headlines, might’ve influenced others to participate too).

To tell the truth, Tim was very disappointed that you couldn’t go with him, and was considering asking the principle of the school to do an exception to the rule and allow you to go with him.

He was already fomenting a plan in his head to convince the headmaster to let you come as his mom, and as usual when he was planning things out, he completely disconnected from reality.

And therefor, didn’t see how your face “closed”, and your eyes turned sad. The boy was typing away on his computer, as if nothing had just happened, as if you didn’t feel your world crumble as he flat out told you you weren’t his mom...

Of course, it was all a misunderstanding. He meant it as “officially”. Not about his actual feelings.

For some reason, the way he said it so nonchalantly hurts you more than when Dick and Jason yelled at you that you “weren't their mom”. Because at least, in your eldests’ cases, you knew it was in the heat of the moment.

That it was because they felt frustrated and sad.

But Tim just told you : “But you’re not my mom.” matter of factly, and moved on. And it hurt.

It hurt so much, because that boy...You loved that boy, of course. And considered him your son for sure. Part of your heart, now. Part of your family. And he felt so far, right now...so far...

You left the room and he didn’t even notice.

Did he really not see you as his mom ? Was he just calling you “mom” to imitate his brothers ? ...You didn’t know, but it hurt.

It hurt so much.

************

You found Bruce in his office, doing some paperworks for Wayne Inc. When he saw your face, he immediately smiled, your presence lighting his whole world...But then he saw your expression, and he frowned.

“What happened ?”

************

“Mom ? MooOOooom ?”

Tim had been looking for you for the past hour, but wasn’t able to find you. You weren't in all your favorite places ! Did you leave the Manor without telling him ? It was unlike you.

Finally, he found you. You were in a room that was rarely used, but which was conveniently close to Bruce’s office, and had a couch.

Laying on top of your husband, you were fast asleep as Bruce was going through his paperworks, letting you holding onto his waist as he kept working.

When he saw the boy come in the room, he smiled at him. And it was hard, not to smile at Tim, seeing his own big wide smile.

Tim was missing a few teeth, that fell not long ago, and it was absolutely the cutest, when he smiled widely. He looked so happy, eyes sparkly and genuine smile. It felt wrong to Bruce, to think that this sweet boy didn’t see you as his mom...

Maybe it was all a misunderstanding ? Wouldn’t be the first time. Although, Bruce knew how sometimes Tim could be brutally honest, and say the facts in a matter of factly way that could be very harsh on the uninitiated.

Your son was holding a cardboard sheet almost as big as him, and looked very excited about something. He slowly approached you two, and said, whispering, yet the excitement was clear in his voice :

“Has she been asleep for long, dad ?!”

He called Bruce dad. Without an hesitation. And it felt so genuine. Like he was relishing in the word rolling off of his tongue. And it was often the case, with Tim. His parents, when they were still alive, never really noticed his presence...

And sometimes, it could be even worst to have parents who acted as if you didn’t exist, than caring parents who passed away. Bruce realized this.

“No, she just closed her eyes.”

Bruce answers, looking at you. And oh he couldn’t possibly know how soft his expressions as as he gazed at your sleeping face.

“Oh...”

Tim was clearly disappointed. His shoulders fell down, and he looked on the floor, looking defeated.

“What is it, champ ?”

“Well, I wanted her to-Oh ! Mom !”

The rumbling of your husband’s chest as he spoke is what woke you up. Not the actual sound of their voices, just that low vibrations reverberating in his chest.

You opened one eye, then the second, and was greeted by your youngest son’s face being very close to you. As Tim saw you were waking up, he kneeled down next to the couch, settling his piece of cardboard next to him, and approached you very closely.

His smile and sweet expression filled your vision. And you felt even more hurt, as you saw him so happy to see you, to know he didn’t really think you were his mom.

It was clear he cared for you. And loved you, and being with you. But to him...You weren’t his mom. And that was so painful.

“I got a plan mom, I got a plan !”

A...Plan ? For what ? You don’t even have time to ask him, and, still a little hazy as you just woke up from a short nap (that you took after crying exhausted you), you raise a little from your husband.

You exchange a curious look with him, as you see Tim spring to his feet and get a hold of the piece of cardboard that is almost as tall and large as him.

He turns it around and...

Your heart drops.

It’s a lot of very detailed drawings, maps and words about...about...

“This is how we’re going to convince the headmaster of my school that you’re really my mom, even if officially you’re not yet !! I thought we could start with logic first, and then go down the path of pathos if he really doesn’t change his mind !”

What ? Your brain is trying really hard to comprehend what’s happening, although it is starting to put two and two together.

“The rules say that the mom HAS to be the one who comes, and the way they wrote it suggest that they wouldn’t accept someone who isn’t yet official. But I think we could convince that, in our heart, we’re already an official family, right ?!”

Tim looks at you, and then at his dad, a little worry in his eyes (what if for them, he wasn’t their son yet because the paperworks weren’t finished and officials quite yet ?!?!). Bruce cannot help but smile, and nods, feeling his heart melt (a rare occurrence).

And you. You have exactly the reaction he expected you’d have. You sit up, put the cardboard aside, and drag your son into a tight hug that makes him giggle and exclaim :

“Hahaha mom wait I can’t breaaaathe !! Mom !!”

But he hugs you back, knowing that this means yes, you do consider him your son already, paperworks or not, and you will probably follow his plan to convince the school to-

“Mom ? Why are you crying ? Mom ?”

You can’t explain it to him. You feel silly, but also so emotional and touched. You thought he didn’t think of you as his mom. But he did. Oh he did, and was actually worried about technicalities of rules and...So sweet. That boy is so sweet.

Carefully, Tim dries your tears, and look curiously at his dad, his eyes clearly asking : “Did I do something wrong ?”

You’re still unable to speak, as you hold onto him, and Bruce ruffles his son’s hair saying :

“She’s just too happy, champ. She’s just too happy.”

CASSANDRA

"You, not my mom !”

She screamed. You never heard Cass raised her voice before. And yet, here, she screamed at you. And then closed her bedroom door right on your nose.

And you felt it in your heart. That specific pain that you wished you’d never feel again. That kind of hurt you wished you’d never feel ever again.

It happened just liked it did with Dick and Jason. You were “lecturing” her about putting herself in needless danger, and she felt frustrated at the fact you “didn’t trust her”.

It wasn’t true of course. You did trust her. And you knew she could hold her own. Didn’t mean you wouldn’t worry, and scold her if she really scared you...

It was pure instinct. You couldn’t stop yourself from telling them off when you felt they went too far. You did it with Bruce too.

Once, he threw himself in the way of a bullet to save you, and once he recovered enough...Oh you were so mad at him.

It’s not that you wanted to take that bullet, of course. You knew it was also instinct that made him move to save you. But in truth, you would rather take a thousand bullet than lose any of them. Bruce, or your children.

And sometimes, it was hard for them to understand this. To get why you were so worried, when you accepted fully their night activities.

Why you monitored the batcomputer, if it was to scold them when they put themselves in danger ?

Ah but they didn’t understand that you only got “mad” when they put themselves in NEEDLESS danger. Pushing themselves too far that one night, being careless with something, ignoring their own safety to finish a task...

You couldn’t help but be afraid. And your fear turned into you scolding them. And sometimes, on each sides, things boiled and...

“You, not my mom !”

The meaning was clear. As Cass slammed her door right in your face, you knew not to push it further, not to tell her anything more.

Maybe you should’ve ? Should’ve open her door, and continue lecturing her so she’d understand her life was valuable ?

Cass put herself in danger more than any other member of your family, because she was raised as a weapon and thought of herself as an “expendable”. You weren’t mad at her for this, of course not (but oh, David Cain probably should never cross your path, it wasn’t pretty, when you were truly angry).

You were just worried. And unfortunately, being a parent was complicated and sometimes, your worry turned a little overbearing for your kids.

This was a mistake every normal caring parents made. Wanting what was best for their children, sometimes not realizing they’re going too far. And you ? Your family wasn’t normal.

Your children were vigilantes. Your worries were tuned up to the max.

Being a parent was hard. And sometimes, both you and your kids were frustrated. It happened. In any family.

It was resolved rather fast, most of the time. A little conversation, understanding and indulgence, and boom. Sorted.

However, there were times when things would go a little too far. Wether because one of you was tired, or didn’t feel well etc etc...

Tonight, was such a time.

“You, not my mom !”

Cass didn’t even register what she said. She was just mad and frustrated, and said the first thing that came into her mind. Her hand slammed the door shut before she could even think about it.

And here you were. In the corridor. In front of your daughter’s door.

Hurt. And feeling as devastated as you did when her brothers told you the same thing. You would think, after a few times of this happening, it’d be easier, right ? Well. No. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

As usual in those instances, you went to seek comfort in the arms of your husband.

************

Cassandra didn’t feel ok.

In fact, she felt absolutely terrible.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she felt that bad.

When she went to look for you and apologize for her behavior, she found you in her dad’s arms, crying, and it made her run away...

She couldn’t face you, knowing she truly hurt you like that.

The worst thing is, she knew she would hurt you by saying those words. Yet she still did it. It was as if she couldn’t control herself. It was like an ugly force took over her, and made her say those words.

But she knew. She knew she’s the one who ultimately decided to say them. She’s the one that pronounced them. Under the anger.

Anger.

The ugly force.

She turned around in her bed, holding onto the plush toy you gave her shortly after her arrival. You said “every child should have one” and that this one made you think of her.

It was a fox with bright colors. And it still smelled like you.

She was about to fall asleep, when she heard a knock on her door.

“Can we come in ?”

It was her older brothers.

Dick, Jason and Tim.

It was rare, to have them all in the same place nowadays, what with how busy they all were. Dick with Bludhäven, Jason with the gods only knew what really (the gods, and you and Bruce...but sshhh, that’s a secret), and Tim with college applications.

So Cass immediately understood that they heard about the fight she had with their mom.

And she felt a rush of shame come over her. She felt sad too, because maybe they’d be mad at her ?

Cassandra didn’t think she could bear to break your heart, and have her precious brothers mad at her all in the same day.

She almost told them to leave. But she didn’t have the strength.

They surrounded her, and their presence was so...soothing.

And then they spoke. They each told her the story of the time they told their mom those few dreaded words.

“You’re not my real mom !”

They told her how awful they felt, and how they knew they hurt their mom. They told her that...well, they did have the best mom ever.

You never held any grudge. Ever. Especially not against your own family.

You never even mentioned again the fact they told you this awful thing, you never even mentioned once this, under any circumstances.

Her brothers stayed with her for hours, talking about their feelings on the matter. Telling her it happened. That everyone wasn’t always on their best behavior...

It was hard, for Cass, to not be “good”. She did so many awful things when her biological father raised her to be a weapon, she felt like she had to catch up so much on those years of “badness”.

She often felt like she was evil, and could never caught up to everything. Like she was doomed, and could never become good.

On that, Jason told her she was wrong. That everyone could change, and no one was born truly evil. Environment, and the way you’re raised, matter. And what she did...wasn’t her fault. She was forced to. If she really enjoyed doing this she’d never become a Batgirl. She would never be part of this family.

She often felt like she was a bad daughter.

On that, Dick told her she was wrong. He too, felt like a bad son, when he “replaced” his parents with you and Bruce. He too, felt like a bad son when he would get so mad while you would do anything to make him happy. He too, felt like a bad son...on so many occasions. But he grew. And thanks to you mainly, he realized he was just human. Mistakes are human. And it’s not being a bad son, to sometimes feel so hurt that you lash out. That your trauma are so strong, things sometimes are tough.

She often felt like she couldn’t fit in, and would never fit in.

On that, Tim told her she was wrong. Him too, felt too different. He already had parents, they were alive, he just wanted to help, he didn’t have any friends...But in this family. In this family, everyone fitted in. Because you made it so. Bruce made it saw. You both accepted any flaws, and differences your kids might have. You loved them unconditionally, they all knew that by now.

And Cass...Cass didn’t want to hurt you.

They knew that, too.

It was an accident. In the heat of the moment. She didn’t mean it. Of course, you are her mom. Of course...

It felt good, to have her brothers there for her, when you couldn’t be.

************

Later that night, after her brothers left, Cass slowly exits her room and take the known way to yours and Bruce’s.

You are both there, and she knows her dad stayed because you felt bad. He always stayed with you, when you were feeling down. And vice versa.

Cass always told herself that, later, if she ever found a significant other, she’d want her and them to have the same kind of relationships than you. You and Bruce set up a rather high standard for whoever would come into her life.

But that was another story. For now, she was opening the door slowly, scared of waking you up. But you were awake.

Bruce was asleep, deeply. As usual when he felt your warmth against him. But you were not. Cass could see you slowly and absentmindedly caress your husband’s hair. It was soothing to both of you. His silky smooth dark hair were soft in between your fingers, and helped you get your mind off of the pain and focus on the sensation, while for him...Well, it put him asleep, when you did that.

The door creaked a little, and you abruptly turned your head towards it, ready to fight and...You instantly recognize your daughter, even in the dark of the room.

She doesn’t need to talk. You manage to roll over Bruce, who then by instinct roll too, and therefor you create a little spot for your daughter to climb in bed with you.

You turn around in Bruce’s arms, and slowly wrap them around your middle, instead of your shoulders. You turn towards Cass, your back against Bruce’s chest, and tap the small spot you managed to create next to you.

Cass understands, and climbs in, facing you. She lays her head on her arms, as you do the same. And then she mouthes :

“Sorry mom...”

And that’s all you needed. You gesture for your daughter to cuddle up close, and she does. By instinct, Bruce lets go one arm off of you, and grabs his kid to bring her closer. He is still asleep, but it wouldn’t surprise anyone that his subconscious holds onto the two most important women in his life like so.

And there she is. Cass feels safe. And warm. And she hears your heart beat softly. And she knows it partly beats for her.

And partly for Bruce. And partly for Dick. And partly for Jason. And Tim. And Damian. And Duke. And Alfred.

It beats for your family.

For her family.

Family.

She has a family.

And you are her mom.

Her biological father never hugged her, never told her everything was going to be alright, never...

Cass never felt safe and warm.

Like she did, right now, held by both you and Bruce.

“Family...”

She whispers, as she slowly falls asleep. And you’re the only mom she ever wants to have. You are, her real mom. Always have been, always will be.

DAMIAN

Damian didn’t really think this was a big deal, at first.

Just like his father, he often made the mistake to think that people around him will simply understand his true meaning.

When he told you : “You’re not even my real mom !”, he obviously didn’t mean it. He was angry because you told him he couldn’t go out on patrol for a few days, as he was grounded for skipping school and going to work on cases instead.

“But school is boring, I already know everything ??”

“It’s the principle of it, Damian. You can’t just do what you want whenever you want, this is not how it works. I don’t feel like we’re extremely strict parents, so when you betray our trusts like that, it has consequences.”

Bruce kept out of the argument, ready to jump in however if you needed him to affirm that yes, actions have consequences and although you two are pretty lax with your son on many fronts, he still has to listen. You and Bruce made clear rules when you first adopted Dick, because you realized your lifestyle was anything but normal, but it didn’t mean your children could just do anything they wanted.

Neither of you wanted them to turn into privileged little brats. Or to think they were above everything. And you were right, by skipping school so much, and lying about it, Damian did betray your trust.

Understanding actions had consequences was a big step that took a while, with Damian. Unfortunately, he grew up in an environment that indeed taught him he could do whatever he wanted, no matter if he hurt people on the way...

Unlearning all this, was tough. And you understood that. Which is why you let things go a lot, with him, and only slowly told him about things. Gradually teaching him about your values and principles.

However sometimes, like in this case, you needed to be firm and strict, because otherwise he’d just keep doing it knowing it had no bad consequences, and you didn’t want him to simply not go to school anymore...School was important for his social development, you realized it as he made friends and...

And simply, an eleven years old kid couldn’t just roam around all day as he saw fit. That’s it. And so here you were, trying to explain this to him. And that’s when he said it.

He scrunched up his nose like he always did when he was angry, and then, turning his head away from you, throwing his Robin boots at the back of the cave.

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not even my real mom !”

And then he bolted out of the Batcave, leaving you behind, with a broken heart and feeling guilty...What if he hates you, because you were too harsh on him ?

Bruce, that night, did not go out on patrol either, and stayed with you. Of course, he did.

************

The fact he still listened to you and didn’t go out, made him thought you knew he was just angry and didn’t mean a word of it.

To him, it was so obvious he thought of you as his mom, and that he said this just because he wanted to have the last word, that he honestly didn’t think much of it.

Sure he was frustrated and angry, just like any kid was when their parents said : “no” to them. But he didn't mean it...

He didn’t really see you of the entire day. Finally, he decided to go see his father to ask him what was up.

“Father ?”

“Yes ?”

“Is-is mom ok ?”

“Well, what do you think ?”

“She doesn’t seem ok.”

“Do you know why ?”

“Did you do something to upset her ?”

Normally, Bruce would feel vex at this statement. What, did he really do things to upset you that often ? Yes and now. Sometimes, he would get on your nerve, and vice versa. It happened, in relationships.

But it was never anything major. Not anymore at least. Because now, when he had his “dark days” and could be a total jerk, you knew how to handle him. You knew not to take his bullshit.

Yes. Normally, Bruce would pout like a child, at the fact his son thought that his mom was feeling down because of him. But not today. No.

Because he knew that what made you sad, was something important.

Unfortunately, Damian inherited from him his bad habit of thinking others will understand his meaning.

Like, when he tried to push you away at first so you wouldn't get involved in his crazy life, what he really wanted was for you to get closer...Or when he told you that he was fine at times, all he wanted was for you to hold him and take care of him etc etc...The first time he told you “I love you”, wasn’t with words, but by not going on patrol one night, to stay with you. And he thought you’d immediately understand that he truly loved you...Truth was, it wasn’t as obvious to you (or anyone really) than it was for him.

And Damian had the same problem. Doing things that he thought would obviously tell his meaning, his real feelings, when really...No one but him would get it.

Although you became quite good at deciphering your husband’s true intentions, you could still misinterpret things sometimes.

And yesterday night, when you grounded your son and tried to teach him a life lesson...You definitely didn’t see that he didn’t mean what he said and just wanted the last word. For you, he was seriously meaning it. And that’s why you were avoiding him a little, because it was too hard to...to...

Damian’s words truly hurt you. You often were scared he could never see you as his mom (even if he did call you mom now and clearly cared for you) because of how he grew up. You’d never give up on him, of course, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt when he pushed you away or pretended to not care...

Damian thought it was obvious, that his actions actually reflected how much you meant to him. That without you, he’d be lost and honestly wouldn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t.

But it wasn’t obvious.

Bruce sighed, and then smiled :

“Since when is she acting odd ?”

“This morning. She didn’t kiss me goodbye when she went to work !”

It felt like such a serious issue to your boy, in that instant, that Bruce wished you were there to see his reaction. You’d instantly know he didn’t mean it, when he said you weren’t his mom...

But you couldn’t quite face him. You didn’t really avoid him or try to hurt him by not saying goodbye. Of course not, you were an adult, and you definitely knew that doing to others what was done to you is pointless, and mean. And why hurt someone the same way they hurt you ? You’re no better than them uh...

“Can you think of anything that might’ve upset her ?”

“I spilled my milk a little, but cleaned it after. I didn’t let Alfred do it like last time. I woke up a minute late, too. Jason hasn’t called in two days, but he was there yesterday afternoon. Dick said she messed up her pumpkin soup but he was just joking and she knows. Tim fell asleep at the breakfast table. You clinging to her this morning apparently made her late, I heard Alfred say it. Um...Cass um...Cass didn’t do anything bad really...None of those things sound like it would upset her though ! She really looked sad this morning, not like herself at all !”

Bruce couldn’t help but smile. It was pretty cute, how Damian often acted as if he didn’t care about anything, yet no details would ever go past him. Especially not when it came to his family. He always noticed, when one of them felt down in any way, and tried to help (in his own way).

Hell, he probably woke Tim up and told him to sleep more and take care of himself. Called Jason and told him to call his mom. Scolded Dick to not make this kind of jokes again.

This was just the Damian that was privy only to them. A sweet child, who unfortunately often had trouble expressing his true feelings.

Just like his father.

Damian would often brag about his siblings, and how awesome they were, to his friends (notably to Jon, who didn’t have any siblings). But he’d never tell them right in front of their face.

Bruce tried to help Damian see what was wrong, and said :

“What about last night ?”

“Ugh ? What about last n-OH !”

Damian replayed the events in his head, and remembered his anger and frustration. But most importantly...What he told his mom.

“I have to find mom ! Where is she ?!”

Damian looked absolutely panicked, which was quite unlike him. Bruce answered :

“She’s at work, she had a meeting with her editor. She should be back soon, though.”

And on that note, Damian ran out to do god knew what, as Bruce shook his head and...Well, he just knew things would turn out alright.

************

Alfred almost fainted, when he saw Damian tear off his beautiful flowers from his garden. He almost ran out, and had a very “get off my lawn !” moment...up until he realized that the boy was probably doing this for a reason.

Oh. Oh his poor lilies.

Hopefully, this really was for a good reason. A very good one. One so good, that it would stop him from strangling his grandkid, hopefully...

************

When you came home, Damian was waiting for you at the front door. He had a bunch of lilies in his hands (that you were pretty sure were from Alfred’s precious garden) and he looked absolutely frantic.

He ran to you, almost threw the flowers in your arms, and yelled :

“I’M SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN IT !! YOU ARE MY REAL MOM ! I WAS JUST ANGRY ! I’M SORRY !!”

You were a little confused as to why he was yelling, but before you could continue he took a drawing out of his pocket and added :

“THIS IS A DRAWING OF YOU ! I MADE IT FOR YOU !! YOU ARE MY MOM ! YOU REALLY ARE ! PLEASE FORGIVE ME !! I’M SORRY !! DO NOT BE MAD AT ME !!”

Still confused as to why he was screaming, you bend down to look at him eye level, settled the flowers on the floor, and said :

“It’s ok Damian. It’s ok. We all get frustrated sometimes...I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt, but it’s ok. It happens.”

Damian’s face showed great relief, and he leaped into your arms, yelling :

“I LOVE YOU !!”

You winced as he screamed in your ear, and said :

“Why are you yelling, little one ?”

Damian took a step back from you and said :

“BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF AND JASON TOLD ME THAT SAYING THINGS IN AN AGGRESSIVE WAY MIGHT HELP !! AND HE’S RIGHT !! I LOVE YOU !!”

Damian told you he loved you before, in certain moments. When he got really hurt, when you were really hurt, if he felt really sad...It was always a moment full of emotions. And it was still rather hard for him to say the words.

It didn’t really surprise you that Jason would have such a technique. Yelling his feelings. Yep. Sounds like him alright. And it did seem like it worked for his little brother too.

Only you and your close family would know, because you were the only ones to truly know him, but those two were more similar than others would think. And it wasn’t because they already killed before. Oh no. On the contrary.

“I love you too, my little one...”

You say, as he goes back for another hug, clearly relieved you’re not mad at him. From this day on, he swore to himself that he would really try to tell others’ what he truly felt, even if it meant yelling it at them. Because other wise...otherwise it’d create this sort of terrible situations, in which his mom thought he didn’t think of her as his mom !

He couldn’t have it, anymore. Many “I LOVE YOU !!” were heard in the Manor, from that point on.

DUKE

“You know you can tell me anything, right ?”

Duke doesn’t know why this time, this made him snap.

Today was the anniversary of when his parents got “jokerize”, it had been two years already...And not one step closer to cure them ! He was so frustrated, sad, and lost. And you noticed.

Duke tend to try to keep things inside. Not that he didn’t want to bother anyone, more like he just thought he HAD to handle things himself. Like it would make him stronger, and therefor, he could protect those he cares about.

He could protect them, unlike when he could do nothing but watch as his parents fell into madness...He couldn’t bear the thought of this happening to you, Bruce, or any member of this family ! Not again.

He couldn’t bear it...

“You’re not even my mom ! Stop acting like you are !”

Are the words he heard himself scream at you as you asked him if everything was ok, and if he needed to talk. As you were caring, once again, and he just couldn’t...he couldn’t stand it ! Not today.

Not today.

He immediately saw on your face the way you shut down, and took one step behind. The way your face “closed”, and as you said : “I understand.” and left the room, your body stiff and your face inexpressive (which was very unlike you), Duke felt it.

The guilt.

Right away.

When those dreaded words were said by all your other kids, they were young. They were all under the age of ten, and the immediate consequences of their actions didn’t truly registered.

But Duke.

Duke was almost eighteen. And he knew. He knew he hurt you.

He felt the need to run after you and apologized, but there was something stopping him.

After all, it was true right, you weren’t his mom ! His mom was still alive, and she could be cured one day ! HE ALREADY HAVE A MOM !

So what if you always cooked him his favorite meal, or knew exactly what his favorite food was ? So what if you would go out of your way to grab his favorite burger from his favorite joints when you knew he felt down ?

So what, if you were always there when he was sad ? Cheering him up with comfort food, kind words, and just your presence ?

So what if you knew exactly what would make him feel better, which movie to put on to put a smile on his face ?

So what, if you spend entire night right by his bedside when he got really hurt, or when he was sick ?

So what if you’d listen to him at any time of the day or night, and always took time to give him your thoughts on the matter, and truly, truly listen to what he was saying instead of waiting for your turn to speak ?

So what if you’d make him laugh, smile, feel loved, even as he felt so alone and isolated, especially after he discovered his powers ?

So what if you never made him feel like he was different because of it ?

So what if you opened your house’s door without a second thought for this unknown teenager who was also a meta ?!

So what...so what...so what if you obviously cared a lot, and if you...if you...

He already had a mom. And she might get better one day.

He couldn’t have two moms.

...

Right ?

What would happen when his parents would be cured ? Forget all his feelings for the Waynes ? So it’d be easier to pretend he wasn’t part of the family, right ?

It would be easier.

Yes.

But it was too late.

It was too late...

He ran after you. Caught up with you in the corridor. Tears in his eyes, he said :

“I’m sorry, please don’t go...”

And fell into your arms. Almost eighteen years old, yes, but still needed the support of a mother. Of his mother.

And you were there. You’d always be there, no matter what happened in the future. And he needed you, especially in that moment of frustration, where he really missed his parents, and was starting to lose hope to ever find a cure...

And you were there.

Who ever made a rule that you could have only one mom anyway, right ?

BRUCE

They did tell him “you’re not my dad !” too. And for him, it was as terrible as for you. If not worst, on certain aspect. Especially since he had a hard times truly expressing his feelings more often than not.

He knows how devastating it can feel. He knows it even more, because not only did he feel it as they told him “you’re not my dad !”, but he also felt it as he told Alfred “you’re not my dad !”. He knew the feelings from both sides.

It enhanced everything.

Of course, in general, Bruce always felt things more than anyone else around him. He was born like that. Hypersensitive. That’s why he worked so much on hiding his true feelings, and appearing detached and cold.

It’s much easier, than to always being overemotional. Of course, it didn’t mean he felt nothing. On the contrary, he felt everything. He was just better, nowadays, at pretending he was okay. At pretending he didn’t care.

Ah. But you existed.

You.

The only person that could always see through his bullshit, and know when he was lying and fake smiling.

Between the two of you, there has always been something. Even before you were together. It was an irrational and irresistible attraction.

An unbreakable bond. Always supporting each others.

You have no idea how you’d live without him. And he couldn’t even fathom a world without you. It’s a world he wouldn’t like very much...

Even during the worst times, and oh you went through a lot together, you knew at least...at least you’d have warm arms to fall asleep in. At least, you’d have each others.

Bruce had known pain so strong he sometimes wished death would just take him away. And then you came in. Ready to put up with his shit, and to not give up on him even when he gave you every reason to.

And oh, oh he gave you back everything times a thousand. You knew he’d never let you fall. Not alone.

Whenever something hurtful as your children telling you two you weren’t their real parents happened...It’s when you truly realized how vital you were to each others.

When you fell, Bruce was there to catch you.

When he fell, you were there to catch him.

Better to fall together, than to stand alone.

__________________________________________________

And here we are :). I hope you liked it ? Don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback and reblog if you want to ^^. I’m a little afraid I disappointed y’all for some reasons haha. I couldn’t explain. Self-confidence crisis hahaha. I finished writing that late, and exhausted after a hard week, maybe it plays into account ? Anyway, I really do hope you enjoyed your time reading this :). And thanks for reading, of course ^^.

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kakashisdarling · 3 years

Text

The unruly Nara��s hair - Shikamaru Nara

Shikamaru x reader (domestic fluff)

“I don’t believe you.”

Shikamaru sighs annoyed as he rests his head on my legs.

“Not even a little hairspray or hair gel?” I ask suspiciously.

“Woman, I’m telling you that’s just how the Nara hair behaves.”

“Don’t woman me, mister” I try to sound offended. “Hmmm so no gravity, huh. Have you tried anything to make it easier to handle?”

“Why would I do that? It would be such a drag.”

I chuckle, ever since we got together, “drag” is possibly the word I hear the most on a daily basis.

“Why is that suddenly bothering you?”

“It’s not. I was just thinking about that thing we talked about the other day…”

Shikamaru frowns, probably trying to recall our conversation.

“Oh,” realization hits him “you mean the -uhm- future planning stuff.”

“I just realized my kid is going to inherit that crazy Nara hairstyle, just like you and Shikaku.”

“Oh stop whining, that’s exactly what drew your attention to me, my dauntless hair.” He mocks carelessly but I spot an almost imperceptible hue of doubt inking his voice.

“Mainly it was that messy hairline” I giggle, placing one of my hands on the corner of his face and the other one on his scalp, scratching softly with my nails. “That’s only one of the many things I like about you.”

The quick spark on his cheeks doesn’t escape my eyes.

Shikamaru’s posture relax significantly as my fingers caress his features, the skin on his face feels soft against my fingertips. I quietly laugh to myself, even his soft eyebrows feel slightly messy.

A playful smile pulls up on my lips as my hand loosens Shikamaru’s ponytail, his hair is a little stiff but very silky. My finger tips rub the place where his ponytail was held up seconds ago. A husky moan escapes Shikamaru’s chest, he’s letting his guard down.

Shikamaru is a brilliant thoughtful man, he’s always coming up with strategies to protect our village, his comrades and… me.

“That feels good, Y/n.”

I hum softly in response, expanding the reach of my fingers and massaging the limit of his unruly hairline.

Shikamaru just came back to Konoha a few hours ago, he was on duty for a little longer than a month, so he must be exhausted. I just want him to turn off that fast bright mind of his and embrace his lazy sleepy ass. Knowing him, it probably won’t take a lot of effort.

“So how many?” his voice interrupts my thoughts.

“How many what?”

“You know, tiny tiresome people that looks like you and me… how many?”

A clean laugh is ripped from my throat.

“I don’t know. One would be a handful on its own.”

He doesn’t respond but I’m sure I can hear the gears on his brain functioning at high speed, figuring out every little detail we have to plan and all the possible outcomes.

“Shika” I call, his clever gaze catches my eyes. “We’ll worry about that another time, just close your eyes.” I pinch his chin between my thumb and index, brushing our lips in a quick soft kiss. A brief smile tugs up on his lips as he places his head back in my legs again. I stretch my arm to close his eyelids with my fingers, Shikamaru chuckles at my childish action.

“It’ll be nice if they had the color of your hair” he mumbles.

“Oh dear, the bright hair color of my clan and the Nara hairstyle? Poor child.” I state dramatically and he chuckles. “Now hush, already Shika. Get some rest, I’ll take care of you while you do.”

“I know you will.”

A wide smile forms in my lips as my fingers focus on massaging his scalp once again. And after a while, I feel my own consciousness fading away, in my dreams I foresee a young boy with the unruly Nara’s hair.

Hey friends! It’s been a while since I posted any story, I’m really sorry. I have a lot of work from school, but hopefully soon I’ll be posting a lot more fics. I’m currently working in a couple fics (mainly kakashi) but also a kiba request and tiny stuff on other fellas. I deeply hope you’ll enjoy them.

Aaaaand I hope you enjoyed this tiny fluffly Shika fic, I had been wanting to write sth about him for a while but whenever I tried my brain dried, however finally I had a midnight epiphany jajaja

And I think that’s all, thanks for reading❤️

#shikamaru nara #shikamaru #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru x you #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru fanfiction #shikamaru imagine #shikamaru fanfic #shikamaru fluff #naruto imagines #naruto #naruto anime #naruto fanfiction #naruto fanfic #naruto scenarios

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

A Little Rest II

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,104

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometimes life is just unbearably tiring. And a comforting shoulder can be the perfect substitute pillow. In which the reader falls asleep on their partner.

Author’s Note: Second part!!! I realize the first didn’t get a ton of traction, unfortunately, but hopefully, this’ll still be welcomed. I realize since most of these are basically pseudo fics, would you guys prefer it to be bullet-pointed or paragraphed? I’m just wondering if one format is easier or more pleasant to read than the other.

Also, adepti’s rules and personal needs are kinda nebulous to me so I sort of made them up myself. Watches also weren’t a thing until the 1800s, and specifically didn’t really become a thing in China until the mid-20th century. But this is fantasy so I do what I want.

Xiao

You loved Xiao more than you could say. Every little moment spent with him made your heart flutter, every habit of his that you’d noticed, every little way he revealed his soul to you.

It seemed so improbable to you sometimes, than an adeptus, someone so very disconnected from the world of humans, should choose to love you. Although Xiao would never let you think you were any lesser than him, would never let his nature put you down, you were still somewhat in awe of the whole setup, and little reminders of his adepti status often brought you back to when you two had first begun to fall in love, when Xiao had explained that he didn’t quite understand the human way of life.

And one of those things that he didn’t understand appeared to be the concept of sleep itself.

It wasn’t that Xiao didn’t know what sleep was. Nor was he unable to sleep, he once told you. Theoretically he could sit down and take a nap much like any normal human. It was more that he didn’t need to sleep, and didn’t see the need to do something that took up so much time and left one so vulnerable.

Not that he didn’t pay attention to your needs; he wasn’t about to disrupt your sleep schedule on purpose, in fact you often joked that Xiao cared more about your rest than you did. It was only that, after spending so many years simply not thinking about things like sleep, it became hard for him to suddenly remember that he had a partner who needed said sleep every day. And a day was oh so short in Xiao’s mind.

It was a beautiful evening at the Wangshu Inn. The air was warm without being stifling and a breeze blew, light and cool. You were on the roof with Xiao, the place that had become your normal meeting spot. For as much as Xiao adored you with every fiber of his soul, he was still an adeptus, and his comfort level around most humans was that of an anxious cat – always ready to bolt.

Besides, the roof of the Inn was such a lovely place to relax. You gazed at Xiao’s profile as he looked up at the stars, noticing the way that the wind ruffled his hair slightly, the way his posture seemed so relaxed, so comfortable. One of his hands was clasping yours, fingers linked together, his palm nice and warm; the other pointed out constellations to you, each bearing a story, some which had long been forgotten by the residents of Liyue.

It wasn’t often that Xiao was so talkative, so open. Although he still barely mentioned his past – keeping that part of himself shut away with only the occasional crack through which you might learn of his sorrows – he’d become much more willing to disclose his everyday thoughts to you, as well as share stories that he knew. The latter was something you always loved to listen to, not just because the stories he told were always interesting and so full of life, but also because they gave you the sense of knowing him better, something that always made you happy.

Unfortunately, tonight was one night where, though you were more than happy to listen to Xiao talk about the stars, you were kind of dying of fatigue. A headache slipped in and out of your consciousness, and you found it more and more difficult to concentrate on Xiao’s words, finding they were all melting together into some semi-coherent monologue.

Your fatigue must’ve been very apparent, for when Xiao glanced over at you his whole demeanor changed; the carefree look on his face was gone, replaced with one of slight confusion and definitive worry. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” You shook your head. “Just a bit tired, that’s all.”

“Then you should rest.” Xiao squeezed your hand slightly before moving to stand up. However, as tired as you were, you cared more about spending time with him, and weren’t about to cut said time short.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, causing Xiao to pause, looking at you in a puzzled way. You smiled, slightly sheepish, but pressed forward. “I’ll be fine. If you don’t mind though, may I, uh, may I lay my head on your shoulder.” You gazed up at him, but inside you were struck with the urge to suddenly look away. Xiao was still a bit reticent with affection, not that it bothered you. He’d told you that he was simply unused to it, not averse to it. You weren’t about to pressure him into anything though, no matter the cause, and thus you waited for his response, hoping your expression conveyed that it’d be perfectly fine if he declined.

Your worries proved to be without ground however, for Xiao’s expression grew only fonder. Lying back down he gestured towards you. You gladly scooted closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder, hand once more in his. “You were saying about the boar constellation.” You murmured.

Xiao smiled, kissing the top of your head, before once more going on speaking about the stars. You smiled too, allowing his stories to carry you off to sleep, your head already swirling with half formed dreams about creatures who walked among the stars.

Xiao listened to your breathing even out, still talking a little after it seemed you’d dozed off, making sure that the sudden stop of his voice didn’t wake you up.

Gazing down at your peaceful face he pondered for a moment how much his life had changed so quickly. Even a month ago the idea that he would become friends with a human seemed impossible, much less that he would fall in love with one.

When he’d first met you it was as if something that had been frozen inside him for a long time began to thaw. He was terrified at first, terrified of you, terrified of himself, terrified of the unknown that loomed before him like a vast chasm. It had taken every ounce of courage to hold your hand at first, and every ounce of courage for every step after that.

But he would do it again if he had to, for being with you was the best part of his long, often cruel life. And he would do anything to protect you, anything to make sure you were comfortable and happy and healthy.

“Goodnight.” He spoke softly. Up above the stars kept silent vigil along with him. Tomorrow would be a bright new day, but for now he was simply going to enjoy the moment he’d been given with you.

Zhongli

For someone who’d lived thousands of years, you’d think Zhongli would remember that tea had to be decaffeinated sometimes.

Not that you could really blame him for forgetting. After all it’s not like he needed to pay attention to whether or not his tea was caffeinated. To one of the Seven sleep was something more akin to a perk than a necessity. Sure, it was nice to sleep. But it’s not like Zhongli was going to feel regret if he accidentally downed five cups of tea right before midnight and spent the rest of night starting at the ceiling, wondering where he went wrong.

Unfortunately, you were definitively not a god, and did, in fact, need sleep. So, when you found yourself staring out the window at 5 am, having long come to the conclusion that sleep was just not going to happen, the emotion going through your mind was something more akin to: “Oh. Fuck.”

This turned into an “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me” when you saw the list of your daily commissions. Yeah, someone had to go to Jueyun Karst and Qingyun Peak to collect Cor Lapis, and considering your relationship with Zhongli and the adepti it should’ve been unsurprising that you were going to be the one to do it. But your sleep addled brain was having a difficult time processing things logically, and all you saw when you looked at the list Katheryne gave you was the fact that today was going to hurt.

Your prediction turned out to be only too true. No adepti came to ask why you were mining outside their front doors – honestly what would you even respond to something like that – but the amount of treasure hunters that ran into you began to feel less like a likely coincidence, considering the location, and more like a targeted attack. Thankfully there was nothing you couldn’t handle, but by the end of your expedition you were more than ready to go home and take a nap.

Hurrying through the rest of your day, barely responding to the people you interacted with, by the time you’d finally finished up with your adventuring duties you felt like the most irritated person on the planet.

Arriving home, throwing your pack haphazardly onto the floor you almost tripped and fell flat on your face in your hurry to get to the bedroom. Not bothering to take off your adventuring gear you threw yourself onto the bed and quickly found yourself lost in long overdue sleep.

Zhongli glanced at his watch, frowning as he saw the lateness of the hour. The sun was already beginning to set, and though he’d walked as fast as possible, he still found himself feeling vaguely guilty about being so late. You two hadn’t spoken much in the morning, you’d seemed a bit restless and hurried out right after breakfast, so Zhongli was anxious to spend as much time with you after work as possible.

“Darling?” He called out, walking into the home you two shared. He glanced around uncertainly, surprised that you hadn’t greeted him at the door. The sight of your pack sprawled about the hallway only made him more confused, and vaguely alarmed, and he hurried down the hall, checking each room to see if you were there.

His worry immediately faded upon seeing you, curled up above the covers, evidently fast asleep. Unsure as to whether or not to wake you up he instead headed towards the kitchen, thinking you might like something when you got up.

You woke up in the dark, something that surprised you. You’d been out for a long time. Seeing that the door had been opened you shuffled down the hall, still a bit groggy from the extended nap you’d just taken.

Zhongli smiled as you entered the kitchen. “Did you have a good nap my darling?” He asked, kissing you on the forehead. You nodded sleepily, propping yourself up by your elbows on the counter. Zhongli chuckled. “Here, something to warm you up.”

Yours eyes widened as the cup of tea was placed in front of you. For a moment there was silence, then you glanced back at him.

“Zhongli?”

“Yes?”

“Uhm, is this tea, well, does it by any chance have caffeine in it?”

The look on Zhongli’s face was enough to make you burst into giggles. Perplexion melted into realization, which evidently caused some sort of embarrassment, for the former god blushed a bright shade of red before bringing his hand to cover his mouth.

“Ah, I see. That’s why you were so tired this morning.”

“It’s alright.” You finally replied, the initial fit of giggles having passed. “I know that you don’t have to think about these sorts of things normally. Only me making the same mistake two times in a row would be a bit hilarious, wouldn’t you think” You placed a kiss on Zhongli’s cheek, finally causing him to calm down a bit.

“I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry. Next time I promise to pay more attention.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, fatigue coming back after the initial burst of energy. Leaning into Zhongli’s neck you sighed slightly.

“Still tired?” Zhongli asked, voice soft and caring.

“Yeah, a bit.” You admitted. Zhongli nodded, before scooping you up.

Carrying you over to the couch you both settled in a bit. Zhongli began humming a sort of lullaby, and you smiled despite yourself. “You’re too good for me.” You mumbled.

“Nonsense.” Came Zhongli’s reply, just as full of love and affection. “You’re too good for me. And I won’t hear otherwise.”

“If you say so.” You replied, too tired to really fire back, already drifting off.

“I do. It’s only the truth.” And with that he began to hum again. As you fell asleep one last thought lingered in your mind.

If such contentment comes from staying up too late, then I’d be glad to do it again.

#I was today years old when I realize Xiao's VN is Soma from Food Wars #I can never unhear it #That show is my guilty pleasure #anyways... yeah #I hope people like this #xiao #zhongli #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #scenarios #my writing

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blacksdale · 3 years

Text

fly over the ocean and change my mind

a crappy zoyalai fic for @shehrazades

sh: zoyalai fluff, post-kos ao3

prompt: “i’m so going to kill you!” want one?

“–And this one is going to have a heated steering wheel. There’s also going to be this thing called a radio, so we can play music and we’re going to have it hooked up to a system so we can talk to people on the ground while we’re in the air. It’s quite brilliant in my opinion.”

Zoya thought on the idea for a second. “Why don’t you just talk to the people you need to while you’re on the ground, and then use the ship to get away from them?”

Nikolai smirked. “Dear, why would I waste the opportunity to bless people with my presence even when I’m not with them in person?

They were walking along a beach he had told her about a few weeks ago, the sun glowing red as it set low in the sky. The water, usually blue, reflected violet as the waves lapped against the shore not a long distance away. For once, the place was not crowded, a few small groups sparsely placed throughout the sand. “Some of us actually would like a break from you.” She looked up to meet his eyes. “Very very much.”

He raised an eyebrow to look at her before returning to his signature smirk, his features glowing in the light of the red setting sun. “If you adore me, love,” he told her, “just say so. There’s no need to hide it.”

She turned to face him, feeling her cheeks begin to warm. “Because otherwise,” she chided, “who would keep your ego in check?”

His eyes lit up then, and Zoya could tell that he gears of his brain were turning, and definitely not for anything to her benefit. She rolled her eyes in advance for whatever he was about to pull, and yet it changed nothing except bring more satisfaction to his expression. Right then, despite his teasing and insufferable arrogance, her world had never seemed more perfect. He leaned down, lips pressed to her ear. “You’re right,” he whispered, sliding an arm around her waist.

She had planned a thousand protests, thought of a million complaints, imagined every single insult she could use in retort to his antics. For all of his remarks, she had one hundred rude replies, one thousand ways to walk, and a million ways to run.

But now, everything around her seemed to stop.

All of them had left her as she stood frozen, noticing only the way his arm wrapped around her, the way her heart beat fast in her chest and her blood roared louder than the waves, the way her breath was caught in her lungs. Saints, what was happening to her? The commander, cold and composed, rendered tongue-tied by a mere whisper in her ear. The ground could fall out from under her feet, and she would not know or care if she was falling with it.

Another whisper woke her from her daze a few moments later. He mused, “Who would keep my ego in check?”

She now noticed the ground was no longer under her feet. Well, it technically was, but her feet were no longer touching it. She could also no longer see the ocean, which now seemed to be to the back of her. In the direction where she was currently being brought, now apparently draped over a certain someone’s shoulder.

“Lantsov,” she seethed, “put me down!”

“Maybe later,” he answered nonchalantly.

She tried to wriggle out of his grip, though it was too tight around her for her efforts to do any good. “That’s it, Lantsov!” She screamed. “I’m going to kill you. I am so going to kill you. I hope you regret this ‘cause I’m running as soon as you put me down! Hear that?” She hit his shoulderblade with her fist. “I’m running from you and I’m never gonna talk to you again! You’ll need to find a new general, and we both know I’m the best you’ll ever have so good! Luck! With! That!”

“Easy, Nazyalensky,” he said, his voice taking on a bit of a sing-song quality.

“Hear me when I say, you’ll wish you had never pulled this!” Zoya could feel the cool water touch her calves, which meant right now it was probably around his waist. Shit. “You. Wish. I will get you back for this once day, just you wait–”

Finally, he set her down, still hugging her close to him by the waist. She felt the water reach just under her chest, soaking the ends of her hair as it swayed around her, and if it weren’t for Nikolai being so close to her, she probably would have run back to the beach to avoid the chill. But every part of her felt warm when he suddenly crashed his lips over hers.

Her thoughts dissolved as she kissed him deeper, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him to her. She could feel his hands on her waist, holding her tight as though he didn’t ever plan on letting her go. There was no rest of the world anymore, just them alone in the water and the sunset and night fell around them. Zoya didn’t know how, and she probably never would, but even after so long every part of her still melted when Nikolai kissed her. With his taste making her delirious and his touch making her weak in the knees, her thoughts were too fuzzy and he became all she knew. Nikolai's eyes lighting up when he thought of new innovations, Nikolai waking her up at midnight to take her dancing, Nikolai falling asleep next to her with his face in her hair, telling her he loved her.

She always denied in her mind that he was going to be the end of her, but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad an ending.

After what felt like nothing and eternity, he pulled away, just enough so he could rest his forehead on hers. She could see his hazel eyes half-lidded, glowing amber in the light of the orange horizon. His cheeks were flushed just slightly, complementing the grin that had spread across his face, as if he were feeling too much happiness for him to contain.

Saints, did she love him.

“So,” he chuckled, eyes lighting up, “you still gonna kill me?”

Zoya exhaled, letting a small smile come across her face. “Only if you don’t make it up to me.”

He lifted a hand to cup her cheek before placing a quick kiss on her lips and resting his forehead upon hers once more.

“Deal.”

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guigz1-coldwar · 2 years

Text

"You weren't ready": New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out!

Chapter Summary: As Yirina, Park & the others are coming back to West-Berlin, they learn that the safehouse that they're going to stay in isn't the one Yirina wanted to hear before she got a face-to-face discussion with Hudson...

To read it on AO3, click here!

Words : +3500

Taglist: @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart, @chrystallenex

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Right after my discussion with Woods, I was thinking about myself if I would ever be able to forget the past behind me when I was listening to Woods's stories. Even to this day, he could remember what happened when he was fighting in the Vietnam War, his friend getting brutally killed, that's something I didn't know from him and it was looking like this wasn't the best thing he wanted to talk about. We may be all different around but I think that the inability to forget our past is the only people have in common. If Woods couldn't forget after years, I don't know if I can...but I hope to try about at my best for the future, now is to think about removing the Perseus Collective out of the picture.

A few moments of peace with Park and then, it was time for us to pack our gear & things and leave Kyiv behind us. We left the apartment earlier to get fast at the airport and thankfully, we were able to get on the private plane that was already waiting for us, courtesy of the MI6, thanks to the calls I made earlier today. Everyone was looking half-relieved to get out of the USSR, now returning to the Western side of the Iron Curtain but that was meaning our work was going to resume for good & with Hudson in command, it might be going to be very testing for us.

Park was looking okay for me when we got on the plane and I was staying next to her in case she could break down again in tears even if she was looking good. I know that she was pretty upset against the CIA, she could have unleashed her anger against everyone around, even me but I was like the only person that could manage to reassure her, the only one. To keep her calm & good, I decided to take the responsibility to have a word with Hudson, to know the truth about myself and if he knew all along about this secret. It wouldn't be going to be easy for me & him but I will see that when we will get to West Berlin.

If a few of us, like Lazar & Woods, got a rest on the plane, I didn't close an eye for a second during the flight, feeling that I rest enough during the day, my brain wasn't going to shut down to sleep until I talked to Hudson, even if I had to do it very late into the night, we left Ukraine at midnight.

Finally, we managed to arrive in West Berlin at 3:20 AM at the same airport I was surely getting to get to land on it: the Tempelhof Airport. I was able to recognize it from the sky and to this, I let out a sigh before the plane landed down on one of its runways and then stopped near a hangar, a car, and its lights next to it. Everyone left out the plane as we could see a woman leaning against the car...surely Liliya Petrov.

"Liliya!" That was Katinka speaking up, a sense of happiness in her voice when we got in perfect sight of the car and Katinka was taking the lead in front of us with her bags.

"Kat..." Liliya couldn't finish herself as she got suddenly hugged by Katinka who dropped her bags at her feet and moved her arms around Lilliya's shoulders. "Hey, easy, Kat, I don't want you to break my shoulders," Liliya complained, her face showing signs that Katinka's hug was not something very tender.

"Sorry...it's been a bit long in Ukraine," Katinka apologized, removing herself from Liliya.

"Two days is too long?" Liliya asked her but I could see Woods & even Lazar joking on their sides by nodding their head on the side.

"Yeap, it was boring," Lazar added.

"Exhausting," Woods completed...at least, those two were trying to stay positive while me, I was in a sort of neutrality with Park, both looking at each other.

"It wasn't the best thing, to be honest," I spoke up, briefly resuming in a few words the general feeling I was having at the moment. "It was a dead-end, the guy we were supposed to get got killed," I announced, going in to make this lie a concrete one, the others have agreed to lie about what happened.

"Yeah, Hudson told us that after your calls," Liliya said, moving away from the car to reach the car's trunk. "He shared his thoughts that this defector lead could have been dangerous, not thinking that his guy would die," She added, taking the car keys with her right hand and turning them inside the trunk's lock, opening it in one try. "Here you go, bags in the back," She exclaimed, her left hand swinging to us to put our bags inside.

"Where are we going?" Park asked as she was going first to the trunk to get her bag on.

"Hudson reactivated an old safe house in the city, we should..."

"Wait," I cut her straight, just by hearing the first words coming out of her mouth. "An old safe house?" I repeated, starting to fear that she was going to say a familiar name to me.

"Hmm...yeah...Die Landebahn as it was called before..." She revealed and at this, I was showing to be very confused, this place was supposed to be burned down months ago...to be left to ashes by the CIA and yet, it felt like I hear a ghost's name.

"The CIA burned the place down, how?" Park affirmed too, turning her back after she was done.

"Officially but not really," Liliya starts to explain as Woods & Lazar moved up to the trunk, her looking at me. "I heard that this safehouse got compromised but Hudson believes that Perseus thought this place was forgotten so he decided to relive it...it's just a safe house," She shrugged at me.

"Not a normal safehouse to me, Liliya," I chuckled at this, a bit now nervous that I was going to step back into the same place I used to be someone else 3 years ago. "This place...you don't know what it did to me," I declared and even if I wasn't looking, I could feel the other's gaze on me when I moved a step towards Liliya.

"Hey, chill out, Yirina, I didn't know that," Liliya protested, the palms of her hands moving up over her chest, thinking that I was going to throw my hands on her, and understandable fear on her face.

"That wasn't to harm you but to know that I'm not joking about it," I warned her about this, biting the right part of my bottom lip, to contain some anger in me before I removed myself to reach the trunk and get my back in just after Katinka did.

"Why this place in particular?" Park demanded at Liliya, who was already walking to the driver's door. "Hudson could have chosen everything but this place," She added.

"He chose a rather shithole, to be honest, I hated that place," Woods argued, getting on the same line as me.

"Emergency...the CIA had to close down a lot of their safe houses in the city and reactivate old one," Liliya replied, getting her door opened as I slammed the trunk's door to close it.

"Why?" That was Lazar talking, looking at Liliya with narrowed eyes.

"Because of what we discovered since we're here," Liliya said, having posed her left hand above the door and her right one on the car's roof. "Hudson will tell you what we know once we arrive, better for you all to get in the car," She advised, gesturing at the car before she enters it at her seat

"We're five...that car isn't going to fit us all," Woods commented as me, Park, Lazar, him & Katinka were still standing outside just after we got our bags in the trunk. "Should we..."

"You want to get to the front, right?" Lazar guessed...seemingly kinda knowing Woods's thoughts now.

"How nice of you, Laz', thanks," Woods directly thanked him before he moves towards the front passenger seat and open the door to get in....keeping the funny here...

"Just get in, we're going to fit right," I assumed after letting out a sigh and trying to stay cool at the moment before entering the car, knowing that our destination wasn't the best one to go.

Honestly, we didn't get too much piled up against each other on the backseats when we were all in, it's not that I was sitting almost on the side against the right door as I was sitting against the door, just next to Park, Katinka at her right while Lazar was nearly having a large part of the backseats. This was rather a funny situation to see & attend if we didn't think about the whole mysterious situation that was happening in the city with the CIA & Perseus.

We didn't discuss too much during the drive as there weren't too many things that we could share, we already gave away our lies to them as for Hudson, he was the one to give us what was happening in here. If he has to reopen this place...a hard place for me, this was meaning that something very bad was getting planned by Perseus. The only thing I wanted now that I was knowing this...I just want our stay in that place to be very, very short.

The more we were getting close to that place, the more I was remembering of the memories i had during my life as Bell in that place...me staying up very late, Adler punching me in the face, my talks with Lazar, and the moments with Park, some were good, some were bad and this place was going to regive me what I'm trying to escape for months and that's the first feeling I got when we arrived and get out of the car and seeing the entrance of that safehouse after stretching my legs...me, Park & Lazar...the three of us were feeling something about this place...hatred towards it and this feeling was going to stay in when we had to get inside.

"Here you are!" We didn't got to speak one second in the safehouse after Liliya got the garage door opened that Hudson were already coming at us, wearing a black leather jacket on with a white shirt & tie below it. "I thought that you will arriving later but...I guess that we can speed up things,"

"Hello first," I spoke up first from the group, wanting to start with some politeness with him but he was looking like I was annoying him when I told him that, just giving me more reasons to not hold back and give him the punch I always want to do to his face.

"Whatever," He said, moving back inside further in the safehouse next to a desk as I was discovering like a different place here: the desks were disposed in a different place and were fewer than the last time I remember, some doors, including those from the old medical & the one from the Dark Room were locked up but still the same place. "We got some serious business to do,"

"Enlight us," Park told him to do, her voice showing struggles to not unleash her anger against him like she did to the phone back in Ukraine as we were all moving to reach Hudson, putting our bags on the ground for the moment.

"Liliya told you briefly about why you're here now," He assumed, Liliya nodding to approve this as we were regrouped at the middle of the place, remembering it to Adler's old desk, no more dashboard next to it. "It appears that the CIA is getting hunted by Perseus in the city, our safehouse are getting raided by the police & even, we think that Perseus is behind this,"

"Why that? I thought the police was working with us, the BND isn't doing anything?" Woods exclaimed, having crossed his arms above his chest next to Liliya.

"The BND is also getting their own safehouses in danger, it's not just the CIA but almost every Western agency organizations who's targeted, including the MI6," Hudson revealed this, meaning that the situation was really bad at the moment. "It seems that Perseus hired a special somebody from Asia to get our safehouse exposed," He then moved on a part of his desk to get his hands on a report "Is the name Kitsune means anything to you?" He demanded to us but no one nodded at this except Liliya, me trying to know if I heard this before.

"Kaori Tanaka, also known as Kitsune" Liliya said since she was the second one next to Hudson to know more than us. "One of the top cybercriminals from Japan, daughter of one of the most feared Yakuza family of Kobe's prefecture," She presented us as my eyes went on the file that Hudson was showing to us, seeing the picture of a woman with an eyepatch on her left eye, a wide scar going down on her face.

"She joined Perseus some time ago after having tensions with her family and since, she's now a target to neutralize, she's the one who managed to blow up the cover of our safehouses here," Hudson completed, putting down the file back on his desk and at this moment, I was wondering if him & Liliya were the only ones around the place...just us, I presume. "We think that Perseus is planning something big if he had to get our covers blown up...we need to find it,"

"And this place...is going to be our safehouse for the time being?" I mumbled, looking straight at Hudson who nodded, not realizing that it was the worst choice he could do.

"We have no choice," He told me directly before he turns around towards the few others desk and workplaces around. "I'm letting you off for the moment, get some rest, install yourself but I want everyone to get to work at 8 AM today, is that clear?" He assured before he drifted his eyes towards the big satellite phone disposed on his desk and going to move at it, the others not responding but moving away from his desk, except Park.

"Get yourself installed, I'll do it," I murmured next to her after I slighty turned my back away from Hudson.

"Sure?" She said, her face down but her eyes looking up at me as I nod at her.

"It's better and...don't worry, okay?" I reassured her, moving quickly to give her a kiss on the cheek and a wink with my better left eye, bringing her to smile a little before walking away from me with her bag along with mine...time for me to do the impossible.

"Hudson," I took a deep breath before going to go back and seeing him already sat on the chair of his desk.

"Not now, Yirina, I'm having a call," He told me, holding his satellite phone at his left ear...it wasn't this that was going to stop me "Hmm...yeah...they...hey!" He was seemingly agreeing to something before I decided to make something by taking the phone off his ear and cut contact with the person he was speaking with. "What are you..."

"We need to talk, Hudson...outside," I was keeping myself to get angry like Park as I put the satellite phone away on his desk.

"How dare you..."

"1956," I muttered this number at him and what I had when I cut him to say that, he completely stopped to look at me, confused &...shocked, that number must told him something..."Outside...now," I ordered, very serious in my face that I was having a deadly glare on him before he look around, trying to avoid it.

"Okay...follow me," He demanded, readjusting his jacket before he starts to walk away, me making sure that he wasn't trying to do anything stupid with me and follow him towards a side exit, remembering it as the same one I took in that memory with Adler punching me. He wasn't trying anything when we stepped out in the dark, a light pole covering the entrance above us.

"So, you know it, right?" I asked him after I shut down the door behind me, showing that my anger was staying inside of me for the moment but still show.

"I do know," He replied in his normal voice.

"How long?" I demanded at him as he starts to look down at his feets. "Tell me, Hudson, HOW LONG?" I yelled at him at the end, seeing him still looking down. "You knew that Black led the operation that killed my parents!"

"Since you came back..." He whispered before taking a little breath and then, remove his pair of sunglasses off his face, as if he wasn't going to lie to my face anymore. "I was understanding Black's order to get rid of you after Solovetsky,"

"Because you weren't able to see that I was one of us," I rather guessed, saying this to myself since a long, long time, I'm on the good side.

"I had to get along Black's order, Adler was willing to do it," He told me, keeping his sunglasses in his left hand while his hands were against his waist, his eyes looking at me. "I started to have doubts at the moment I learned that you were alive and you came back here...a Perseus agent would have come back to their owns, not to the CIA,"

"Yeah, still seeing me as a Perseus agent, right?" This feeling that I wanted to remove out of my chest...being seeing only as a Perseus agent...this wasn't going to be forgetten by some around and by myself. "I'm pretty sure that the CIA is still thinking of me as Bell,"

"Black & the president does...not me," He revealed, telling me that even the fucking president of the US...Reagan was knowing about me. "Black revealed the truth about you to me when he learned of your comeback...he knew about you since Adler got you on that airfield!" He send me like a bomb at my mind by those words...Black was knowing all along I was...Yirina Grigoriev...the daugther of the parents he killed in 1956. "No one, even me, knew this information until April,"

"Why only now?" I questioned him, wondering why he took him so much time to give me the hard truth.

"Because you weren't ready for the truth," He responded to me and it was something that could have brought me to glue his back against the brick wall behind him and punch him multiple times, even clenching my fists for it but unable to do it. "I feared that you would have moved back to them and left the CIA,"

"I would never come back to them, right after I understand what I did," I told him straight, raising my right index finger at him. "I spent a life of being lied to about what happened and being here...it's the only way I can make things right...I'm not doing this for the CIA...but for Park!" I assumed my choices here, having come back to the CIA's watch for Park but also to get rid of Perseus for good. "She was the first person I thought about when my eyes opened in that hospital, I know what she did but she was the DAMN ONLY person who said sorry and got pretty messed up over three years until I was back!" I could feel my whole anger going up inside of me, just by telling him the truth at his face and he was feeling it coming.

"I'm sorry," He muttered.

"Of course, you are, Hudson, always acting like the authoritarian boss around, almost treating me like shit and now, you want me to believe that you're sorry...like Adler wanted to do?" I asked him the question, seeing him & Adler as the same person in terms of moralities here.

"I'm not Adler, I never going to be like him...I remember what I did in the past, not him," He protested, sounding frustrated that I compared him with Adler. "I can acknowledge it for you: I don't hold Adler a special part in me but he works for the CIA and that's it," He exclaimed, almost going to put his sunglasses back on.

"We are all unable to forget what happened to us in the past...that's something we have all in common," I assumed.

"Maybe...not Adler," Hudson thought as he got his sunglasses back on his face, still looking down but I could feel his eyes looking at me. "I'll give you the files about this operation, just keep it to yourself & Park, understood?" He asked and I nodded but before he could, I decided to give him a warning on my own.

"Hudson, if you ever, ever try to double-cross me, lie to my face again....I'll make sure that me & Park will not stop to beat you...I'll not stop her, understood?" I told him, feeling the death serious tone in my voice and what Hudson told...was nothing except with a nod before he moved away and open the door to get back inside the safe house, leaving the door open for me...maybe that the situation was bad for us but my warning is standing up against him...

I'll not stop Park next time...and to me...I was ready...I'm ready now...

#call of duty cold war #black ops cold war #cod black ops cold war #cod cold war #cod cw #cod bocw #call of duty #cod #fem!bell #helen park #yirina grigoriev

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male orc x male reader (1st person) sfw

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This was posted, completely unedited and hot off the keyboard, to Patreon at the beginning of June. It’s first person for a change, but male perspective.

Reader is the crown prince of a high fantasy kingdom, who was never expected to become king. His older brother was killed in action when he was 13 and he suddenly found himself shifting from the role of scholar to the role of soldier, a role for which the king things him ill-suited. It opens with him at aged fifteen, first meeting the orcish son of a local war chief, who accompanies his mother to the castle for peace talks with the king. Vilugh is about ten years older than the reader. The reader doesn't have it easy, and is extremely lonely, as I would imagine a lot of royals and people with important families would be, beneath all those expectations and responsibilities.

Hope you like it - I have more written and more I want to do with it. I know it's orcs, which isn't very non-humanoid (Patreon folks said they wanted more non-humanoid monsters), but I really enjoyed going with the inspiration for this one and was excited to share it with you first. Sorry for any mistakes - as I said, it's still mostly unedited.

(The orc’s name is pronounced ‘vee-lug’)

I was fifteen the first time I saw Vilugh, and my jaw dropped the moment he entered the castle bailey beside his mother. They both rode enormous war boars with tusks and ears as decorated as their orcish riders, and his mother’s had a great, spiked chain that dangled between them.

The War Chief swung down from her mount, landing light as a sabre cat in the rocky outcrops beyond the castle, though the myriad ornaments adorning her head gear and garlanded around her neck jangled and clinked. The blade of her double-headed axe flashed silently in the holster across her back. Bone and steel, ivory and gold flashed in the sun. Beside her, astride a colossal, russet boar with a great bristle-back mane and flashing, mismatching eyes, rode her eldest son. The orc was huge, even for young adult. With orcs and humans ageing at about the same rate, he had to have been in his mid twenties, in the absolute prime of life, and I was awestruck by his presence.

Silent, built like a bulwark, and with eyes that took in everything and revealed nothing, Vilugh glared around the courtyard. While many orc’s eyes were light as amber, his were a deep, colourless black from that distance, and I licked my lips as my heart rate shot up like a winter solstice arrow into the sky. He stared straight at me, unmoving. Evaluating me, with my scrawny arms and less than impressive physique, no doubt. He quickly dismissed me, assuming I was some kind of page boy, no doubt. His surprise when I was formally introduced to them later as the Crown Prince was certainly enough to draw a tiny, knowing smile from my lips.

They were here to begin peace talks, and, to everyone’s surprise, they went astonishingly smoothly. Few humans made snide remarks about the orcs, and none of my father’s people were decapitated in retaliation.

The orcish party came, spent hours walled up with my father and the royal council, I lingered around the door and behind the wood panelling in the great hall, scuttling along the wainscot like a stray castle mouse, sneaking scraps of conversation instead of cheese.

I couldn't take my eyes off Vilugh though. He sat with the presence of a dormant volcano; all that power barely contained within each gesture. Like his mother, he wore a mix of leather and fur, with a swathe of his large, green-skinned chest exposed beneath the cross of leather that just about covered his nipples and went up over his huge traps and down his back to meet at the waist of the loose leather riding ‘skirt’ favoured by orcs. Really though, it was more like rough linen covered with tattered layers of studded, off cuts of leather.

As a gesture, everyone left their weapons outside the doors, and as I passed by - bored after two hours of talking - I paused and stared at them. A royal guard eyed me cautiously, as if I were about to cause mischief that would get her into trouble, and her orcish counterpart standing on the other side of the small weapons cash narrowed his eyes at me. This orc was older than the others in the chamber, and stood at seven feet tall, with colossal shoulder muscles. Perhaps the most startling thing about him to me at that age was the fact that he had only one arm, and one of his tusks was missing on the same side. He sneered down at me and I balked. I’d never seen anyone with injuries like that, and it shocked me deeply that someone could endure something like the pain of losing an arm.

I’d known orcs were tough, but that somehow helped to drive it home to me.

I had made it no further than six steps down the corridor that led away from the Great Hall when the doors creaked open and my father strode out, the orcish War Chief at his side. Trying not to look like I was on the verge of crapping my pants - which, I am ashamed to admit I probably was - I watched the party file past me. My father gave no indication of having even seen me, and marched past me as if I were no more than another rusty suit of armour gathering dust in the miles of castle corridors.

Vilugh, however, turned his gaze sidelong to me as he followed in silence, brooding as a thunderhead and twice as frightening. I managed to conjure a smile from somewhere, and he looked away. Everything about him looked dangerous, from the sheer size of his boar-like tusks to the massive curve of his shoulders, the definition of the muscles visible on his back and sides, the black rope of plaited hair, thicker than my two balled fists put together, that hung down to his backside, and the predatory set of his gait. Oh, and the two-handed axe now strapped to his back didn’t help much to soften him.

The orcs stayed in the castle - a first, I was informed in passing by Rigmore, the castle steward - but I didn’t eat with them. For some reason my father seemed ashamed of his scholarly son. My late brother would have been perfect for this; he’d been the warrior prince, the kingdom’s golden boy, the one destined to rule after father was dead. But Dannan was gone, and the kingdom had me now. I’d taken after my mother, apparently, though she’d died birthing me, so that was another thing my father seemed to hold against me.

I had expected to spend the rest of the day alone in the library, since it was the one day in the week when I wasn’t expected to be out in the training ring with the castle’s master at arms, trying to bulk up a body that didn’t want to take on muscle the way my brother’s had. Big burly Dannan with his head of golden curls and his biceps as big as an orc’s… Then there was me. The scholar-son. I was lean and toned after two years of trying to fill boots that would always be too big for me, but I showed no signs of developing any brawn to go with my brains. Too much of my mother’s side of the family in me, or so my father said.

With my head bent over a tome on the ancient language of our distant forbears, I didn’t hear the door open, but when a young page boy cleared his throat and squeaked at me, I jumped and spattered ink up my arm and onto my dark green linen shirt.

“Sorry, Your Highness,” the boy chirped, nervy as a sparrow.

“It’s fine,” I smiled, trying to reassure the kid. He was probably not even half my age. “You have a message for me?”

“Yes, Highness,” he said, bowing. “His Majesty says you’re to ride out with them. They’re going through the castle gardens and out into the deer park.”

“Oh. When?”

The boy grimaced. “Now.”

“Now?” I cursed and the boy blushed. “Thank you. I don’t supposed it would have killed my father to give me a little warning?”

The page boy didn’t know what to say to that, so I thanked him again and dismissed him, folding up my notes into the book and hurrying to my chambers to change into my riding leggings and something a little warmer.

By the time I jogged out of the main gates into the castle bailey, the party was just mounting up, my father swinging easily onto his enormous grey stallion as the beast pranced by the mounting block. My father was a soldier-son, first born and in the saddle before he could walk. I’d started a little later, but I wasn’t too bad. My mare was brought out to me, gleaming and brushed and black as midnight. The orcs were mounted on their boars and, despite the horses innate fear and hatred of the beasts, there wasn’t too much fuss about that.

The stable boy who led Starling out to me didn’t take her to the mounting block but brought her directly to me at the foot of the castle steps. Lean and light and fifteen years old, I sprang into the saddle and took the reins from him with a nod of thanks, nudging her forward with the merest squeeze of my lanky calves to join the others.

“Took your time, boy,” the king growled at me.

“I came as soon as the message was relayed to me,” I retorted sullenly. “I was in the library.”

“So I see. You’ve got ink on your lip,” he said as he reined Spectre around sharply. “Try to keep up and don’t fall off.”

My face heated at the comment but I ground my jaw. There was no point arguing. I risked a glance at Vilugh and found him staring with his unreadable expression at me. I flashed him a wide, boisterous, childish grin and asked Starling to go from a standstill to a fast canter with one easy command. She leapt forwards, following my father as he cantered away over the flagstones and out onto the sandy track that led from the castle around to the apple orchards and formal gardens, and beyond them, the deer park.

We were clearly not hunting that day, since no servants joined us, but the orcs still wore their axes strapped to their backs. Three joined us in total: the War Chief, her son, and the one-armed orc I’d seen outside the chamber. I’d obviously underestimated his significance, thinking him little more than a servant as he’d guarded their weapons and not been party to the peace talks within, but for him to be selected over the others in the party indicated otherwise. My trained mind quickly refiled the information and put it to one side.

My hair was growing floppy now that I had stopped cutting it. No one had noticed, and it now brushed my shoulders if it wasn’t tied up. In the library, I’d scraped it back into a ponytail where it bobbed playfully like a young plant’s first leaves, and now as we rode, it came loose, the little leather strap falling away to get trampled by the enormous hooves of the giant boars behind me.

Starling flew like her namesake, wild and graceful, turning at the slightest touch like a bird on the wing. I loved riding. I wasn’t permitted to go out alone, and no one ever had the time to escort me, so I only got to do it when my father decided he needed to skewer something deadly to let off steam, and now as we all picked up our paces, the horses keen to stretch their legs, I couldn’t keep the savage grin off my face. I felt feral for just half a moment, and it was glorious.

When we finally reined our horses back after a lovely canter along the smooth grass of the orchard road, I sat back a little and Starling responded by slowing her pace to a steady walk. I gave her her head, letting the reins fall loose and dangle, while Spectre pranced and jogged up ahead, snorting and tossing his head. My father always kept his reins too short, thinking it made his stallion’s crest of muscle look bigger. All it did was irritate the horse, but far be it from me to correct a king.

I glanced back and saw Vilugh’s boar raise its huge, pierced snout and let out a scream of what seemed to be like joy as it trotted along behind. My father’s horse spooked a little, and Starling skittered sideways. I went with her, absorbing the motion with my hips before she settled under my palm and voice. “Easy, they’re our friends now,” I crooned to her, and caught the flicker of her ears as she picked out my familiar voice. “There, see… just a big piglet. Nothing to worry about.”

At that, I heard Vilugh snort behind me and turned to grin at him.

“Shh,” I said conspiratorially. “She doesn't need to know what they can really do.”

His harsh face cracked a little at that and he nodded with a little smile. He probably saw me as a little child, I realised, and my face flushed again. I looked away and didn’t try to speak to him for the rest of the ride.

The orcs’ visit was brief, but it marked the beginning of an uneasy peace with their kind. I grew in my duties, becoming ever more isolated. I had no friends among the court, my father ignored me until he required me to be present for something, I trained, I rode my horse, I studied, I ate, I slept, and I read. For three years, the orcs did not return to the castle, though my father made one trip alone to visit them on neutral ground somewhere out on the plains.

When he returned, he seemed pensive, and I caught him staring at me a few times over supper that night, which unnerved me.

The year I turned eighteen was the year I discovered my new nicknames among our people. The “Silent Prince” and the “Royal Monk” had become my monikers, and my father hated it. Personally, I thought it rather fitting. I was still skinny, unable to put on muscle no matter how much meat I was given at supper or how many boars my father sent me to bring down. Of course, I couldn’t bring one down alone, but I managed once or twice with the help of a retainer or two. I wasn’t a complete disappointment. But I wasn’t Dannan.

My twenty first slid by, and my father showed no signs of slowing down. He expanded his territories to the east, and I saw war for the first time. Of course, I didn’t see it from the front lines. What I saw was strategy and numbers in the tents, and my tactics and suggestions won us three battles. They lost us one too, but to my surprise, my father started to take note of me then. He never said anything different, but he included me more in his business than he ever had. My hair grew a little longer, though I had it routinely hacked off when it got below my shoulder blades. It was nothing like the luscious head of curls my brother had had, so I could wear it long without it looking feral. Dannan’s had practically been a halo for him.

One morning, over our habitually silent weekly breakfast together, my father cleared his throat and announced, “Son, you’ll be heading off to train with Khraxh and her war band.”

I choked so hard on my scrambled egg that a servant actually had to step forwards and slap me on the back. “What?” I croaked the moment I had air enough in my lungs to articulate the word.

“You heard me,” the king said, his grey-blue eyes drifting down a list in front of him, the contents of which he had not deigned to share with me. As usual, I had brought a book with me to the table to entertain myself until he rose and left.

“I did, but… why?”

“I believe it will be good for you. Her son, Vilugh, will be here tomorrow to escort you.”

“I’m going alone?” Stupid question. I was always alone.

“Yes,” father chimed carelessly. “It’s time to toughen you up properly. Six months with them ought to do it.”

My mind went blank. “Six… Six months?” I stammered. “You can’t be serious.”

“What? You have something better to do than enhance our diplomacy with those beasts?” he sneered.

I was in the middle of translating one of the great Eddic collections of our people into the modern tongue for one, but I didn’t mention that. “Apparently not,” I said coolly, rising from the table after one last swig of water to wash down the startled remnants of my breakfast from my throat. “Excuse me,” I said, not waiting for his permission to leave.

Part Two

___

Please let me know if you’re interested in more! Some of the patreon folks were also interested in the one-armed orc, and don’t worry, he’s got more of a role to play too in the future.

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

For all early releases, character art and bios, upcoming story info, and much, much more, join me over on Patreon!

You’ll have access to stories before anyone else, and you’ll get instant access Patreon-only content as well, including polls and an exclusive monthly story for those on the Pixies and Goblins tier!

#exophilia #orc x reader #orcs #orc #male orc #male orc x male reader #first person narrative #1st person #wip #work in progress #hey look a new(ish) story!#tw: death of sibling #mentioned #strained father-son relationship #prince #prince reader #male royalty #orc x prince

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wreath-of-laurels · 3 years

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Todoroki/Iida - Iida becomes a villain

So @doomsdaybeamxd prompted me with

Pairing: Todoiida AU: Iida falls in with the villains. Big Angst Time

I’d normally write a mini fic as is proper but my brain has too many ideas for this. So here’s a general idea of how I think it goes as if I actually tried to write a tiny bit, it wouldn’t stay a tiny bit.

As it is, I’m writing at least some of this in Variations on a Theme. How much I’ll do, I don’t know.

Childhood friends

Shouto and Tenya met shortly after Rei was put in the mental hospital.

This happened because Enji was feeling guilty over Rei and seeing Shouto being lonely so was for once in his life was trying to be a semi-decent father and decided to arrange regular playdates.

No, Enji never considered to let Natsuo or Fuyumi play with Shouto. If he thought about it, he'd have reasons but they'd all suck.

Shouto was lonely and so was Tenya as he got bullied for being ‘weird’ and bit by bit they established a friendship.

There may or may not be mutual puppy crushes involved.

Enji after gaining a +1 in parenting points, loses 10,000 by saying that Tenya is the sort of good, loyal son that he’d be proud of, and accidentally implying that Tenya is there to change Shouto into a version of him.

This makes Shouto hate Tenya, assuming that he was in on it, and he refuses to spend anymore time with him. This upsets Tenya and baffles Enji. Enji doesn’t even consider the possibility that it was his fault.

Years pass.

They meet again at UA

Years past and Tenya is really looking forward to seeing Shouto again. Elementary and middle school were not fun and he got bullied a lot. Surely Shouto has forgiven him for whatever he did!

Nope.

If anything Shouto’s angrier as he still has feelings for Tenya and he wants them gone. Shouto won’t even tell him why they’re no longer friends. Just that it’s Tenya’s fault.

The sports festival goes about the same as before except that Tenya gets the call about Tensei just before his fight with Shouto.

Stain killed Tensei instead of crippled. His mother lets this drop on the phone.

Tenya instead of going home seeks out Shouto. Shouto’s older brother died. While he never talked about it, surely Shouto knows what it is like, maybe even knows how to cope.

Endeavor has just been blabbing away at Shouto. So Shouto is angry and totally avoids looking at Tenya or paying much attention at all, missing all the absolute BLATANT hints that Tenya needs help.

Shouto misconstrues Tenya’s disjointed ask for help and bitterly says that the normal thing is that the weak are ‘thrown out’ and the strong survive. Shouto has no clue that Tensei is dead.

Whoops.

Tenya and Shouto have their match because the teachers haven’t heard about Tensei yet. It is a lot more brutal than the canon one. Shouto even loses himself for a while and uses his flame.

Tenya loses. Now he’s angry at Shouto too.

Shouto later has the chat with Midoriya, they have their match and Shouto starts thinking over things.

The next day Tenya refuses to talk about anything. None of the students have a clue what happened to Tensei.

The teachers do. Aizawa, Mic and Midnight went to school with Tensei. They try to be comforting. Tenya is super polite while raging inside that when Oboro died and Tensei was upset, they weren’t around.

To be fair to the teachers, while Oboro and Tensei were close friends, Tensei wasn’t with the rest of them. Everyone was trying to keep Aizawa from falling apart at the time.

Tenya is NOT in his happy place.

Tenya goes after Stain

Tenya is a whole lot less patient at this point than his canon self. He doesn’t wait to go after Stain at this point. As his armour is at school, he uses his brother’s access cards and such to steal Villain stuff from his agency.

The one-on-one battle of Tenya against Stain goes initially better. He gets a few good hits in. Stain is ranting about Tensei was a fake hero. He eventually takes Tenya down but fail-safes in the villain gear kick in and electrocute Stain.

When Tenya gets a hold of himself, Stain is ranting about all the Iidas being false heroes that need to be cleansed.

Tenya does not take this well.

At all.

And he has one of Stain’s knives.

Tenya finds himself wondering why his clothes are soaking wet. And red.

He then notices a few things (a) Stain is dead, probably has been for a while, (b) there’s a hero in the alley who apparently Stain attacked before Tenya showed up, (c) the hero is dead because they bled out, just like Tensei did, because Tenya was obsessed with killing Stain and (d) his parents and Aizawa have tracked him down and are watching in absolute shock.

Tenya runs. Aizawa recovers first and erases his Quirk, but Tenya runs all the time and even without it he is very, very fast. By the time, the Iida parents recover, Tenya has apparently disappeared into thin air.

This is because he kind of has. The League thought Tenya was Stain and Kurogiri warped him out of there.

Shouto finds out

Over at the Todoroki house, Fuyumi asks about how Tenya is doing, what with the death of his older brother.

Shouto didn’t know but rolls his eyes. Though after some thought and after learning from Midoriya, it occurs to him that perhaps Endeavor doesn’t own Tenya. So maybe his actions had nothing to do with what Enji wanted.

Also if there’s one thing he knows about Tenya is his older brother is his world.

And that expression on Tenya’s face during their match looked a lot like the nastier ones that Shouto himself has worn.

Shouto still has Tenya’s number from childhood and vice versa. He considered deleting it but at the time he was using it to remember just how much he hated Endeavor.

Tenya apparently sent some angry messages.

“Oh no.”

Tenya is with the League

Tenya is so exhausted and upset about what he did and what his parents saw that he’s oddly accepting of being trussed up.

Tomura after some initial ranting about killing the kid who ruined the USJ (even though he didn’t), listens to the news, some police and hero chatter then puts his thinking cap on.

Hero kid killed Stain. He is oh-so miserable about Stain being killed. I mean look at all the tears on his face . . . Good riddance.

Hero kid killed Stain when he was already out of the fight. Then kept on standing for the lolz. Nice. This could be interesting and Sensei is apparently all for it.

As Tenya is pretty much a Sim with its free will setting off at this point, Tomura instructs him through things, plants some ideas in his head and basically treats him like a very dumb pet.

Not much happens until Stain’s diary is published and copycats start showing up. Tenya starts to wake up at this and it is not pleasant (though Tomura loves it).

Tomura pretty much points some out and lets Tenya loose and eventually Tenya comes back with a sword.

RIP Spinner.

Awwww... Tomura always wanted a little brother.

Well, no he didn’t, but now he does.

Shouto and His Newly Reinvigorated Guilt Complex

Everyone is freaking out, trying to track down Tenya.

While they acknowledge that Tenya killed Stain, Shouto’s the only one who thinks that the Hero Killer Killer is the one responsible for killing an increasing number of Stain followers. The Iidas can’t believe that of their little boy, the teachers are letting their guilt taint their opinions and Midoriya and Uraraka are, at the end of the day, idealists.

Shouto knows what it is like to have your hatred of someone turn your life into a tunnel vision. If his father had killed his mother, Shouto has a very good idea of what would happen.

As it was, Shouto seriously considered killing his father when he was younger. At the time, he only didn’t try to do it because it would hurt Fuyumi and he has a very hard time picturing Endeavor being able to die.

He honestly didn’t take into account that his mother wouldn’t want him to be a killer.

He still doesn’t take that into account because Shouto, the idiot, hasn’t visited his mother because of everything that has happened. The guilt of not helping Tenya makes him ashamed and he doesn’t think he’s worthy of her.

Shouto, you complete and utter idiot.

So he’s collecting (stealing) money from home, dyes his hair black and is going undercover to try to track Tenya down.

He’s really bad at the undercover bit (rich kid clothes) and his scar is very distinctive. Plus UA and Endeavor are tearing up the landscape to find him and he doesn’t have a magic portal man to transport him.

He’s all set to get caught when a mysterious burned man offers to show him the ways of the underworld for a price.

From here on?

I really don’t know but I don’t see the internship or summer camp arcs going the same way, if they happen at all.

#iida/todoroki #iida & todoroki friendship #my hero academia fic #ask game #prompt fills

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feistypaants-archived · 4 years

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Biscuit in the Basket

Rating: T Words: 2764 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: Anna doesn't know why she's been so sick, but when she finds out, she has a different problem to worry about. [Set in my Between the Pipes AU] [cw: pregnancy]

Notes: I was missing this AU hahaha. Written to satisfy an itch but I hope you all enjoy! :) YEAH THE TITLE IS ANOTHER HOCKEY JOKE. It's fine. I know who I am.

[AO3]

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Anna looked up from the toilet to see her husband’s worried features staring down at her. His brows were furrowed, lips twisted to one side as he leaned up against the sink, a glass of water in hand. She nodded only once before deciding it was too much movement and lowering her head back into the opening.

“I’ll be fine,” she mumbled, pressing her forehead against the porcelain. “Just a bug.”

She felt his hand spread out over her back and rub in small, soothing circles as he knelt beside her. “I can see if they can put Nemo in for tonight, join up with them in Buffalo tomorrow…”

“No, no.” Anna sighed with relief as a cool cloth settled against the back of her neck. “It’s really…” She scooted back up onto her knees as she retched again, panting for air as the nausea shook her. “It’s okay.”

“Babe…”

Reaching blinding to pat at his knee, Anna did her best to look up at him for just a moment and reassure him. “Honestly. I promise. I’ll be good as new tomorrow.”

She could feel the hesitation radiating off of him, so she crossed her arms over the toilet and rested her cheek against them. “Kristoff. Seriously. I can handle a bug.” His hand stopped moving against her back. “I’ll call you tonight after the game and I’ll be good, I promise.”

Kristoff sighed and leaned forward to press a kiss against her sweaty forehead and nodded, giving up way quicker than she thought he would. “All right,” he said as he stood up. “But if you need anything, you just call and I’ll be on the first flight home, okay?”

“Okay, honey.”

“You’ll call?”

Anna nodded, and reached over for the glass of water he left beside her. “I promise I’ll call.” She shrugged once. “Also, don’t forget my sister is here. And Honeymaren. If I need something I can bother them, too.”

That seemed to ease his worries enough, and he started backing out of the bathroom. “Please call though.”

“I will.”

“I love you.”

Anna smiled, and swallowed the bile she could feel rising in her throat. “I love you, too.”

—

“It keeps hitting in waves. Like, I’ll be totally fine and then out of nowhere, I’m curled around the toilet again.” Anna pouted as she pulled the blankets up to her chin. “And I can’t do anything, I’m so tired.” She heard Elsa humming on the other side of the line and frowned. “It’s been going on for a few days and I’m trying not to worry Kristoff, but I’m feeling all blegh.”

Her sister was too silent for her liking. “What are you thinking?”

Elsa sighed. “Mom used to get really awful periods like this, when we were little. Remember she had the hysterectomy?”

Anna frowned. “... Yeah…”

“When are you supposed to get it?”

She… honestly didn’t know the answer to that. “Hang on,” she mumbled, pulling her phone down from her ear to pull up a tracker app she had started using.

Except that it said her current cycle was at 57 days.

“That’s… not right…”

“What’s wrong?”

Anna tapped it, trying to remember. “When did I have my last period?”

Her sister let out a chuckle. “We’re plenty close, but I don’t track your cycle, Anna.”

“No, I…” Anna refreshed it as she thought. “I must have missed tracking it last month. It says fifty-seven days. That’s…” She was trying to wrack her brain, trying to remember what happened almost thirty days ago. Did she have it? Did they go somewhere?

Wait. It was Elsa and Honey’s wedding.

She definitely didn’t have it then.

The stress could have delayed it… But Anna honestly couldn’t remember having it at any point between then and now, either…

“Hey, Elsa?”

She made a noise of acknowledgement.

“Can you go to the store for me?”

—

Anna was pacing as she listened for the sound of her sisters’ car. As soon as she told her what she needed, Elsa practically ran out the door, promising to be there within the hour.

This couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be. She was on birth control. Sure, it wasn’t one hundred percent effective, but she did her best to take it consistently.

But with everything going in the fall, it was very likely she had gotten lazy about it, or forgotten altogether once or twice.

There was no sense panicking yet. Nothing was confirmed. She just couldn’t remember her last period. And it was possible she was four weeks late. And she was throwing up for three days. And she was sore. And tired. And shit shit shit shit shit.

Elsa let herself in, and power walked through the house to find Anna in the living room. “All right, I got five different tests.” She dug through the bag and produced them one at a time. “Some digital, some regular, this one is supposed to be very sensitive and can detect it earlier, this one is fast, and this one they said is the most accurate and --”

Anna grabbed the closest one and ran towards the bathroom, hollering “I will take all of them!” as she slammed the door shut, and ripped the box open. As she read the directions, her sister came in with all of the tests back in the bag, and a clean cup for her, offering that maybe dipping would be easier since Anna wanted to do all five.

So she did, box by box, test by test, marking which ones needed how much time, and set a timer before sitting back on the toilet and hugging her knees to her chest.

This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t what they had decided. Before they took the step into marriage, they had a long and emotional discussion about everything to do with children and family. Kristoff had been working on things with a counselor, doing his best to unpack some of the trauma he had bottled up, but he was still hesitant - still so afraid of being like his father.

Anna had known from the beginning that this was a fear of his, and she had agreed from day one that they would wait until they were both one hundred percent ready to start the family. Together they decided that Kristoff would be the one to open the discussion, as it was mostly his worries that were holding them back.

But he had just signed another four year contract.

The timer blared, snapping her out of her thoughts as Elsa looked at her, lip caught between her teeth.

Anna pressed her forehead against her knees and sighed. “I can’t look.”

She heard Elsa gathering up the tests, taking a moment to look at them, and placing them back down. “They’re all the same.”

Okay, so whichever it was, it was probably right.

“What does it say?”

Elsa hesitated before tapping Anna’s hand, and placing one of the sticks into her now open palm. Anna covered the screen with her thumb, sat up, placed her feet flat on the ground and took a deep breath before removing her finger.

Two lines.

Pregnant.

“They’re all the same?” Anna could hear the tightness in her throat as her free hand rose up to cover her mouth.

Elsa nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, they’re all the same.”

When Anna fully looked up to her sister, with tears welling up her eyes, she saw the same joy she felt reflected in Elsa’s expression.

“I’m pregnant?” This wasn’t real.

“You’re pregnant.”

Oh. Maybe it was.

Anna practically jumped off of the seat and threw her arms around her sisters’ neck, sobs pulling from deep in her chest as Elsa rubbed at her back. She knew Anna’s reasons for not actively trying before, and It was as if Elsa could sense the conflict burning through her veins. “It’s okay, you’re all right.”

“I…” Anna whimpered, letting her whole body slump. “I’m so happy. What if Kristoff isn’t?”

“He will be.”

“But --”

“He will be.”

Anna nodded, letting go and wiping at her face. “I guess I should make a doctor’s appointment.”

—

It was day seven of his roadie, and Anna had been ignoring his calls for three days.

“Hey baby, I hope you’re still feeling okay. I’m sorry I missed you. It’s late so you’re probably asleep. Sven wanted to go out and celebrate. I’ll call tomorrow?”

It’s all right! We’ll talk later!!

“Hi beautiful. I can’t believe I keep missing you. Should we set a time later? I miss you.”

Sorry! Elsa was over and I didn’t hear my phone. I miss you too.

“I’m starting to feel like you’re screening my calls. Is everything okay?”

I’m not! Just bad timing. I never want to just call you though because you’re way busier. I love you. Everything is okay!

“I texted Elsa. She said you’re still feeling kind of sick. Do you need me to come home? Just say the word.”

No babe, don’t worry.

Okay, just… let me know. I love you.

After that, it seemed like he had stopped trying. Anna felt guilty, she did, but this wasn’t over the phone news… and she didn’t think she’d be able to stop herself from telling him if she actually talked to him. Besides, he’d be home in two days and she could tell him then. And… well she wasn’t quite sure how that conversation would go.

She watched his remaining games and made sure to text him about how proud she was and how much she loved him and that she was going to bed before he would be out of the locker room.

He didn’t even bother to reply tonight.

Anna told herself it was because they were mourning the loss and probably on their way to the airport immediately after the game. It would be well past midnight when they landed, and even later when he would finally get home. She would definitely be asleep, and hoped that a night of rest would put him in a better mood for the discussion that they would be facing tomorrow.

But anxiety kept her awake long into the night.

Long enough that she heard him come through the door, drop his keys, throw his gear into their laundry room, and head up the stairs as quietly as possible.

Anna had the lights out, but she pulled the blankets over her shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he would believe that she was asleep. Sometimes, if he came back late enough, he would just sleep in the spare room to not disturb her.

Maybe he would do that now.

He opened the door. She heard his steps stop, heard him sigh, and then noticed the light receding behind her eyes as he shut it again. It took a moment for her to decide if he had left or not, but just a few minutes later the door was opening again, and he was making his way quietly to his side of the bed.

Kristoff climbed in, and immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling Anna flush to his chest.

Oh. She hadn’t realized how much she missed him.

Anna could feel the tears coming as he pressed two soft kisses against the back of her neck.

A small stir, to pretend she was just waking. “Kristoff?” she mumbled, doing her best to fake sleep-slurred speech.

“Hi baby,” he whispered, pressing another kiss behind her ear. “I missed you.”

She swallowed, her throat tight, as she pulled his arms tighter around her. “I missed you, too.”

Kristoff was silent, just breathing softly behind her as she cuddled into his embrace. How did she go five days without talking to him? How had she ever? But then his voice broke through the darkness again, strangled and upset. “Why were you ignoring me?”

“I… I wasn’t…”

“You were.”

Anna started to twist around to face him as he let go of her body. “I was not!”

“Okay.”

He slid away from her and moved to get up, pausing only when her hands tangled into his shirt. “Wait, please, just…”

She could hear the tears in his breathing, could feel all of the agony radiating off of him.

Would he understand?

Would he be angry?

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” She wanted one night of him holding her close before she had to deal with it.

He shook his head. “I’d rather talk about it now.”

“But we’re both tired, and I missed you and --”

“Okay. I’ll sleep in the guest room.” Kristoff was swinging his legs over the side of the bed, gripping at her hands.

No, no no. She needed him here. “Wait, please, I…”

He froze, giving her a chance. Just one. She had to say something. She had to tell him.

“I’m pregnant.”

This was the longest silence of her life.

“I just…” She sat up, and cupped his jaw with her palms. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know if you’d be upset or… I just… I didn’t want to tell you over the phone and I knew I’d blurt it out if we talked and I…” she ran her fingers across the stubble on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I just… I’m really happy but also really nervous and I just didn’t want to talk about it on the phone I… I shouldn’t have ignored you. I’m --”

“You’re pregnant?”

Anna held her breath. “Yes.”

The barely there moonlight was all that illuminated his face. She couldn’t read him, couldn’t see well enough to know what he was thinking. All she had was the silence that was dragging on and on.

“I know this wasn’t the plan. I know that we’re not there yet. I… I know you’ve been working with Yelena, working on it but I…” She hesitated before wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning into him, letting out a small sigh of relief when his arms circled around her waist in return. “Babe, please say something.”

His grip tightened around her, his cheek pressing against hers and his breathing erratic before he practically whimpered out an “I’m gonna be a dad?”

“Yeah, honey, you are.” Anna felt him bury his nose into her neck, felt his whole body start to shake. “Is this good crying?” He nodded, and Anna felt her whole body relax, the whole last week of stress melting away as he sat back just enough to look at her, eyes still wet.

Kristoff lifted his hands to her jaw, stroking soft thumbs over her skin before he began peppering kisses across her face; her nose, lips, eyelids, forehead, and Anna felt herself start to cry, too. She couldn’t begin to put into words the immense relief she felt as he kissed her full on the mouth, a small laugh bubbling out of him.

“I…” he let out another breath and pressed his forehead against hers. “I was going to bring it up at the end of the season.”

Anna felt her stomach swoop. “What?”

“I told you, right when we first… started…” another short chuckle. “That I wanted a really big family. I meant it. I could…” His palms slid down the length of her arms before taking her hands in his. “It’s been so hard to wait, Anna. But I knew it was for the best. For me…” He laid gentle kisses against her knuckles. “We’ve been married for three years now, and… I’ve already proven to myself that I can be a pretty good husband.” He paused and kissed her fingers again. “Right?”

“The best,” she agreed, nodding enthusiastically.

“I didn’t think I could be that.” He swallowed and fiddled with her engagement ring. “But if I can be… I think I’ll be able to be a pretty good dad, too.” He shrugged. “Even when playing.”

Anna laughed and laid a palm against his cheek. “You definitely will be.”

A new silence, one filled with hope and love and excitement stretched between them, before Anna darted forward and threw herself into his arms, kissing him wherever her mouth landed.

“I love you so much.”

Kristoff laughed, held her close, and returned her kisses with just as much fervor.

“If you don’t stop,” he mumbled against her, his hands roaming freely, “we’re going to get started on number two right now.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Anna laughed, pulling him closer. “But why don’t we give it a try?”

#btpfic #feistypantswrites #kristanna

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

Text

family baking time

summary: can you do a reddie x daughter where she has a dream about eddie dying and then they comfort her? like basically how we would want them to comfort us about how our souls were crushed from watching CH2 lmao

The sheets stick to Luna’s body as she desperately tries to escape them, kicking her legs out, the same way a toddler experiencing a tantrum does, dislodging the sheets in the process. The remnants of the nightmare cling to the back of her mind, like clouds obstructing the view of her normal brain, clouding her judgment.

She escapes the muffed room and trades it for the living room, can’t stand to be alone any longer without any conformation that her dad is in fact not dead, but alive and kicking. The hallway is brightened by the distorted images on the television, the volume so low it’s nothing more but a murmuring setting taken advantages off by Richie to focus on his writing process.

Luna can hear the ticking sound his keyboard makes, furious and fast paced, the way he goes when a new idea pops in his head and he has to write it down in that very moment. Under normal circumstances, Luna would find something else to do or wait to interrupt him, finding it difficult and off putting for disrupting his lively hood. Not that Richie minds her intercepting his new materiel, in fact, some material only came to be after Luna gave her input, but she does mind. But the nightmare douses her in an unhealthy amount of adrenaline, and she has to get shake it off, to prove to herself and her traitorous mind, that her dad and pops are fine, and she’s just making things up.

‘Pops’, she whimpers, blocking his sight of the tv, not that he was looking in the first place. Richie peeks up at her, and freezes mid-tap, shoving the laptop off his lap and floundering over to his daughter. He fosters her with his arms, rocking them back and forth. Luna bawls harder, digging the heels of her palms in her eye sockets to will herself to stop.

‘Kiddo, what’s going on?’ Richie asks her panickily, mentally checking over any possible sort of information. She didn’t go to bed upset, and as far as he knew, he’s pretty confident his daughter tells him everything, she didn’t argue or fight with her friend either.

‘Talk to me Lu.’

Luna weeps in hurdle of sobs, shaking her head when it’s obvious she can’t explain with the way she’s acting at the moment. Richie, frightened of the whole ordeal, understands that he cannot do any of this by himself.

‘Eds’, Richie yells at Eddie, sleeping soundly and heedless to the drama unfolding, the name sounds shaky and breathy at first, not nearly loud enough to stir Eddie from his rem stages of sleep, and then Richie bites back his bile and calls out louder. ‘Eddie.’

‘Richie’, Eddie answers, instantly alert even with the bouts of sleep, something he does because he’s not fully sated with the idea that Pennywise will never come back. He scrams in the living room, weaponizing a vase, but leaves it behind when he sees the reason Richie howled at him was because of their daughter.

‘Luna what’s going sweetheart?’

Eddie’s fight or flight is instantly shifted in gear, hands fluttering all over Luna’s body to detect any visible injuries. When he can’t find any, he grabs her a tissue and hands it over to her, so Luna can dab her tears away.

‘Settle down, it’s okay.’ Eddie calms, shooing both Richie and Luna over to sit on the overweening soft carpet. The carpet was Richie’s pick, who specifically searched for something so Luna as a child could amuse herself without having to do it on the unrelenting hard floor. Now a days, it’s mostly used during her sleepovers, or while watching a movie.

There’s goosebumps all over Luna’s body, and they have nothing to do with the chill that comes sweeping in alongside a cool spring night.

‘Did you have a nightmare, Luns?’ Richie inquires gently, all too familiar with those himself. He recognizes the signs of one in Luna, but unfortunately clueless on how to fix it. Richie’s coping mechanisms are not ones he wants to pass on his daughter.

‘Yeah’, she sobs out, sagging backwards on the carpet so she’s laying flat down, staring up at the ceiling. After a beat of hesitations her dads mirror her position.

‘Oh fuck’, Richie complains mere seconds after upholding the stance, rolling his shoulders to work out the cricks developing in his upper back. ‘I’m too old for this shit.’

‘Since when are you suddenly too old? Yesterday you swore to us you could run a marathon in your sleep.’

Luna giggles, her dad and pops bickering like everything is normal and no one is hurt eases her mind off the edge of a breakdown.

‘I’m glad to understand that my suffering is funny to you young lady’, Richie utters, smiling himself.

‘It’s not’, Luna confesses, because even though Richie was joking, the mere visions of her dad being impaled is vividly being replayed and repeated in front of her very eyes. She blinks against the onslaught of tears and picks at the soft cotton under her to refrain from whipping her eyes again. They’re already burning, and the more she rubs, the more she’ll have trouble with it later.

‘Luna’, Eddie says miserably, taking her hand and holding it between his own, ‘We’re here.’

‘I had a nightmare. And you died dad’, Luna cries, flipping over so she cry in her dad’s t-shirt. ‘I’m sorry. Pops and me came home and the house was so empty because you were never coming back. I looked for you everywhere and expected you to be behind me at every turn but you never were.’

‘Listen to me’, Eddie explains firmly, sitting up and planting his hand on his hips to make himself as fierce as he could, ‘I am never, ever leaving you or your pops alone. Ever’, he says the last word slowly, drawing it out to allow it to sink in Luna’s head. ‘I will always come back to the two of you. Always.’

‘You big ol’ sap,’ Richie waves off, but his voice is slightly trembling despite his best efforts.

The family of three compile in a bear hug, staying there until Richie’s muscles begin protesting and he has no choice but to move positions, leaving the dog pile with a kiss to Eddie’s lips and one on Luna’s temple.

‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Her pops asks, shimmying his shoulders, coking his head towards the kitchen.

‘Pops I’m never thinking what you’re thinking. Your mind is a weird place.’

‘Well first off all fuck you, second of all you’re right, and third I’m talking about midnight baking,’ he swings his arms in the air and bows through his knees, like a child on Christmas.

‘I think it’s a good idea,’ Eddie agrees, struggling to get himself off the carpet and on both feet again.

‘The two of you are really getting old,’ Luna mocks, ‘But yes, midnight baking sounds amazing.’

The apple strudels are slightly burned, and Eddie mutters under his breath that he’s going to have to extend his visit to the gym the whole time, but Luna loves the family space, and is immensely grateful that her dad is still breathing to spend it with them.

#reddie x daughter #reddie fluff #eddie kaspbrack #eddie kaspbrak imagine #eddie as a parent #eddie as a dad #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier #richie tozier x daughter #richie as a parent #richie as a dad #My writing

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hatsukeii · 4 years

Note

hi hi, i have a levi scenario request! so, the reader is known to act on an instant, driven by intuition, which makes her valuable soldier. but when she meets her crush levi at night while they both can't sleep she just suddenly kisses him without thinking about whats driven her to do that. and idk, levi's just perplex but he didn't dislike it. dk how to wrap it up, so u can choose! i hope this is alright! :)

Yoo that’s acc a really good prompt thank you!

I’m naming the fic after a song and YOU CAN’T STOP ME-

Scrawny// Levi x reader

Word count: 1900+

Warnings: Mild swearing

Summary: Due to severe insomnia, you decide to wake your captain up and make him spar with you.

“Captain. Caaaaptainnnnnn. Leeeviiii. Levi Heichouuuu. Captain Leeeeeeevi-” An irritated grunt sounded from inside the room. “Name and business. Make it quick.” You gave yourself a little victory pump, an idiotic smile now plastered on your face. “(Y/N) sir! I need some help!” The door was whipped open by none other than your fuming captain, his permanent scowl looking extra pissed. “What in the actual name of hell are you doing here? It’s past midnight, get your ass back to bed, and out of my office.” The wooden door was slammed in your face, startling you a bit as you let out a yelp and jumped. You huffed out, pouting a bit as you placed an elbow on the door, continuing to knock relentlessly. “Heiiichouuuuu. Pleaaaaaase help meeeeee. Levi heichouuuuuuuuu. I can’t do it aloneeeee, it’d be pointlessssssss.”

How did you get into this situation?

Well.

You were initially going to stay put and just roll yourself to sleep, or at least try to. But the boredom became way too much for you to bear very quickly. Your mind debated between the sensible option, which was to just wait for the sun to rise, or to just get some training in. Specifically, get someone to spar with you. Everyone in your cabin was fast asleep at this ungodly hour, soft snores from the girls filling up the cozy space. You continued to toss and turn, forcing your eyes shut and trying to relax. You stayed still for about five minutes or so, before a loud snort resonated throughout the room, jolting you awake from your short lived peace. Groaning in annoyance, you glared towards the direction of the unwomanly sound, landing your eyes on Sasha, who was sound asleep in a weird position. It was already 1am. You had to wake at 5am. You weren’t about to get any sleep anytime soon. Insomnia’s an actual bitch. Following your thoughts, you practically rolled out of your bed, trying to comb down your terrifyingly disheveled hair, before changing into some workout clothes, slipping on your shoes, and waddling towards the office of one person you were certain would be awake at this time- Captain Levi. Everyone in the Corps knew of his terrible sleep schedule, so you were positive he was still awake and working. In addition to that, you would rather die than admit it to the other cadets, but you were completely whipped for Levi, so just getting any form of time alone with him would be a blessing to you. Even if it was just to spar.

“Heichou please help me, I can’t stand it any longerrrrrr, I’m gonna die of boredom, do you feel me Levi heichouuuu-” The door you were leaning on so comfortably swung open, catching you off guard. You started to fall, nothing around being useful in supporting you. All Levi did was walk out of the way and watch your tiny body fly towards the hard wooden floor. “Jesus brat, what the hell do you want from me?” You stood up rapidly, dusting yourself off, before scratching your head. “Can you spar with me?” Levi’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging open. “Are you serious right now?” You timidly nodded, chuckling dryly in a terrible attempt to alleviate the tense and awkward vibe of the situation. “(Y/L/N). You disturb me, at 1am, while I’m doing paperwork, to spar? Couldn’t this wait for tomorrow? Go back to sleep, this is an order.” He proceeded to walk back into his office, hand reaching out for the door handle. You laughed lightheartedly, keeping the door open with your foot. “Levi heichouuu, I’m sure you know how big of a bitch insomnia is, will you help a fellow poor sufferer out? Pretttty pleaaaase?” There was no way Levi was about to reject that request. How could he when you were acting so cute? Your whiny ass could melt even the coldest of people, himself included.

The minute you joined the Survey Corps, Levi already had his eyes on you. According to the information Shadis gave him, you were an extremely valuable asset when it came to scheming and fighting. Your intuition was like none other. It was impressive. Perhaps even more impressive than Sasha’s. During battle, your pure gut instincts have saved many soldiers. Most of them knew the name (Y/N) as the insanely accurate fortune teller. You knew exactly where titans would be, and how they would attack. That combined with your logic, made you an excellent tactician. What brought you down, were your physical skills. You were never the fittest person, often times collapsing after only five laps around the training area. You barely passed the ODM gear test, and almost broke a bone sparring with Connie. CONNIE. Since then, Levi has noticed you skipping dinner and training in your free time, whether it was just normal working out, or practising punches and kicks. He had initiated conversations with you before, usually starting off serious, but those talks usually turned into dumb arguments over questions like whether you could eat medicine with tea, or whether Eren was actually dysphoric. As months passed by, you became one of the few people that managed to get close to Levi. Although the captain may not show it, he had to admit, he has grown quite fond of you with time too.

“Good lord, fine, you scrawny ass brat. I’ll spar with you for an hour and an hour only. No buts. Consider yourself lucky I’m actually giving into your ridiculous request.” You beamed, jumping up and down like a child seeing a cotton candy machine, then crossing your arms over your chest, giving Levi a fake pout. “Thank you so much cap! For the record, I’m not scrawny!” He only grunted in response, letting you drag him to the training grounds. On the way, you sensed something off. No, scratch that, there was just a weird vibe. It was like something waiting to happen, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was exactly. You were skeptical for a bit, before you let it go and took it as sheer paranoia.

“(Y/L/N), you’re getting better.” You were completely drenched in sweat at this point, your muscles aching like crazy. You two had been sparring for about thirty minutes only, and somehow you were already worn out, whilst Levi was still completely fine, not a single drop of sweat evident. “C’mon cadet, you can do better than this. You asked me to spar with you, bring it.” You huffed out, panting like a thirsty dog, arms on your knees. “Yeah, hold on, just give me one second to just-” You took in a few deep breaths, before stretching your arms and legs, getting into a fighting stance again. “Okay, I think I’m all good captain.” Levi sent out a tiny smirk, charging towards you without warning. He sent a punch toward your jaw, missing by mere centimetres as you dodged it, grabbing his arm, knocking him off his feet, and throwing him to the ground. “Whooo! I finally won! Once!” You cheered a bit too early. Within seconds, you were flipped over again, the captain’s lean figure now hovering over you in a straddle. “Guard up until the opponent either passes out, dies, or surrenders. That’s rule number one of fighting. That was a pretty impressive throw though, I’ll give you that.” You sighed in defeat, tapping out quickly. “Seriously? You’re going to give up like that? That’s not the (Y/N) I know.” You thought about that for a second. “You know what captain? You’re right.” Smirking evilly, you got into a guard position, kicking your legs up to wrap around his chest as you rolled over, hovering over him in a mount.

Maybe you were dumb. Or maybe you were too immersed in the fight. But you didn’t realise how close you and Levi were until then. Your face burned multiple different shades of red as you went silent for a few moments, Levi staring at you in confusion. “Oi, what did I tell you about not being distracted during a fight?” He tried to shift into a better position, when your hand came down onto his collar. Should I do this? You were about to take a huge risk. Your brain was desperately trying to stop you from doing god knows what next. However your heart was throbbing, messing with your thought process. You felt that weird, tingly vibe in the air again, this time paying close attention to it instead of just ignoring it like the last time. Maybe this is the world’s way of telling me to do this thing? Is it? You pondered over the thought, staying as still as a statue. “(Y/F/N)? Did you listen to a word I said-”

You know what? To hell with your doubts and worries.

Grabbing the soft fabric of his shirt, you harshly pulled him towards you, attacking his lips with your own as you refused to let go, squeezing your own eyes shut. He was audibly shocked, giving out a tiny yelp as you continued to kiss him. His hair tickled your forehead, his breaths tickled your face, the fact that you were kissing your captain tickled every single little thing inside of you. For a few moments, you could hear your embarrassment buzzing in your own ears, before you finally pulled away, lowering Levi back down to the ground as you let go of his shirt. Your eyes widened at what you just did, your entire body going hot as you took your time to let the fact that you just kissed your hot, badass, midget captain sink in. Your hand went up to cover your mouth as you gave a muffled scream, getting off of him immediately and apologising profoundly. “U-uh I think that’s probably enough sparring for tonight, I’ll go see if I can go back to sleep now. Goodnight cap!” You screamed as you ran back to the cabin, completely flustered and feeling very hot. Slamming the cabin door close, you looked around, to see a tall figure sitting up from her bed, turning on a lamp. “(Y/N)...? What are you doing in workout clothes? And… why are you all red and sweaty?” You jumped, cursing a bit at Mikasa’s question as the other girls started to wake up from the noise that you made. “I- uh, it’s a long story….” Ymir smirked, before placing an arm on your shoulder. “Don’t worry. Get changed, and we’ll have all night to talk about it.” The other girls agreed, sending you evil looks as you grabbed your sleeping clothes and proceeded to clean up and change, your risky move from just now still circling your mind like a hive of annoying ass bees.

Meanwhile, Levi could not comprehend what the hell just happened. Did she just kiss me? He fixed his collar, which was now dirtied and wrinkled as he scrunched his nose at the disgraceful sight. “Tch, that brat, running away as if I would be on her ass for the rest of her life as a soldier after she did that.” He let his hand go up to touch his lips, seemingly fascinated by how he didn’t resist or anything. He was beyond confused. Never in a billion years did he expect to be kissed by someone in the military, let alone someone in his own squad. He tried to ignore his cheeks that were feeling warm as he dusted himself off, standing up and walking back to his office, mumbling to himself.

“Why’d you run away so quickly (Y/N)? I didn’t say I disliked that or anything.

Hoe hoe hoe I have finally finished this req! This was so fun to write oh lord I was laughing to myself-

This one goes into the short kings clan👑👑

Hope you liked it anon🥺👉👈💕

Tags:

@burnt-tomato @lydzisanerd @bokutokoutarou @trashcanweeb @izzyphantomgamer @artsamber @ewfilthymundane @macaronnn @sunshines-and-tatertots @for-ests @inlwlevi

Idek why I can’t tag @ewfilthymundane but I’m soRry

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aphrodites-law · 5 years

Text

My Favorite

Trope: Soulmate marks.

Twist: Lexa doesn’t have one. Clarke does.

4/? - (Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3)

Lexa's first week of teaching was as much a learning curve for her as it was for her students. Starting middle school was a big step, and the nerves of some kids were especially noticeable. Lexa managed quite quickly to spot who the quiet ones were and who would give her trouble, and other than a few hiccups, everything had gone according to plan. Teaching the same subject multiple times a day wouldn't always be the most rewarding thing, but she was excited about the highs and the lows ahead.

Friday came quickly. By the time Lexa made it back to her apartment around 4pm, she had already questioned what she should wear a dozen times. She'd even texted Anya, but her friend had been no help, suggesting she forgo clothes entirely. She opted for slim black pants and a blouse in the end, left her hair loose and bought a bottle of wine on the way. Clarke hadn’t given her any hint as to what they would do, or if it was even a date at all, but wine always seemed appropriate.

When she got to Griffin Hotel, Lexa walked into the foyer and saw Jake reading a magazine behind the counter.

"Hi, Jake."

He looked up and set his magazine aside. "Ah, I figured."

"Pardon?"

"She'll be right down."

Jake tapped the call bell twice and then looked toward the stairs. Lexa noticed a few decorations and strings of lights in boxes on the desk.

"Are you having an event?" She asked.

"Good friends of the family getting married soon," Jake nodded, looking quite proud. "We're throwing a casual get-together in the garden tomorrow."

Footsteps coming down the stairs made Lexa turn her head. She saw Clarke come her way and felt her heart speed up.

Hi, Clarke mouthed.

Lexa felt like a teenager all over again, as if they were on their way to prom rather than on a first… whatever this was. Clarke was wearing a pale yellow dress with a jean jacket over it, and a purse slung over her shoulder.

"Hi. I… got this. Don't know if it's any good honestly," Lexa said while extending the wine.

Clarke smiled sweetly and signed thank you, which Lexa was thrilled to understand. She'd done her best to keep studying daily since their last encounter, picking up on very basic etiquette thanks to hours of YouTube videos. Clarke turned to her father and set the wine on the counter, signing something that made him shrug.

"No guarantees any will be left, kiddo."

Clarke rolled her eyes before taking Lexa's arm to make their way outside. Lexa had already noticed with Raven that people didn't sign back to Clarke, instead answering her vocally. Maybe it was just the way Clarke preferred interacting, though Lexa still intended to practice as much as possible. She was a long way from a conversation, and the night ahead would surely present some challenges in terms of communication, but Lexa didn't have a worry in the world about it. Clarke had not let go of her arm since they walked out of the hotel, which meant that, as far as Lexa was concerned, the night was already perfect.

"I'm into the mystery," she said after a while, "but is there any way you'd disclose a general location of where we're going?"

Clarke shook her head with the ghost of a smile on her face.

"Is it a restaurant?"

Clarke squeezed her arm, which Lexa guessed meant- "Am I lukewarm?"

Clarke seemed determined to keep her expression in check.

"A movie?"

At that, Clarke wrinkled her nose.

"Yeah, I'm not really a fan either on first d-" Lexa bit her lip. "Hard to get to know someone that way."

They walked past a small park, where street lamps illuminated the sidewalk lined with trees. With the end of summer was coming the fall of leaves, leaving the ground covered. Lexa had never been around this part of the city before, but she was looking forward to the changing season taking over the city.

“So you were out of town?” she asked Clarke.

Clarke stopped walking and suddenly motioned for Lexa’s phone.

“Oh, sure.” Lexa watched Clarke take her phone and then type something dizzyingly fast. She gave it back to Lexa before grabbing her own and repeating the process. Lexa felt her phone vibrate. She looked down and found a text:

Clarke 🙊

Sorry, it’ll be faster like this than the notepad.

Lexa nodded. “Of course. Whatever you prefer. You can sign too; helps me rewire my brain.”

They started walking down the sidewalk again. Another message appeared:

I’m an art therapist. Sometimes I go over to Arkadia to my mom’s rehabilitation center.

“That’s amazing,” Lexa said. “What kind of art?”

Clarke signed slowly, which Lexa picked up on thanks to the context. She'd found that context was key in understanding most phrases, as there were sometimes fewer nuances in vocabulary than spoken language. She understood ‘painting’, ‘drawing’, and ‘sculpting’, though the rest seemed to be a lost cause no matter how slow Clarke signed it.

“Oh, I know, you set bowling balls on fire,” Lexa guessed.

Clarke laughed, then texted again: HOW did you get that?

“You don't have to deny it; that was a very obvious fireball sign, Clarke."

Clarke shook her head with amusement, eyes watering a bit. Lexa couldn’t stop smiling. "Your secret's safe with me."

Slowly, they made their way toward a more active part of the city, where the nightlife seemed to come alive. There were packed bars and restaurants, people coming in and out of movie theaters, and large groups chatting on sidewalks. They took a turn on a narrower street, where Clarke stopped by a heavy door and pounded her fist against it. The door was so thick that it barely made any noise at all. What kind of place could be tucked away and looking like the entrance to an abandoned warehouse?

They waited just a moment before a tall man with a shaved head opened the door.

“Hey, Clarke. Long time no see!”

They hugged before the man stepped aside to let them in. Once inside, it was like they had entered a bubble. Singing and music could be heard from the room over.

Lexa extended her hand to the man. “Hi. I'm Lexa.”

“Lincoln,” he answered with a firm grip. “You teach at Polis MH, right?”

Lexa glanced at Clarke. “Yes, how do you-“

“Oh I think you’ll find it’s a pretty small city. My wife is a substitute there. Come on in!”

Once past the narrow corridor, they were led into a room that looked like an underground bar. Lexa had never seen a place like it. It seemed like a speakeasy that had stood the test of time, now refurbished but still with a distinctive look that gave it an old-fashioned appeal. Where Raven's coffee shop was all geared toward science and the future, this bar was firmly rooted in the past. Most of the patrons were gathered by a makeshift stage, where a woman with a smoky voice sang indie tunes backed by her band.

Clarke looked at Lexa intently, eager for her reaction.

"Wow. I would’ve never found this place in a million years."

Clarke took her arm with a grin, leading her to the bar. The bartender, a short and robust woman with cropped hair, immediately signed at her. Clarke made a two sign before turning to Lexa, who had no clue what had just been ordered but reached for her wallet regardless.

"I'll take hers," she started to offer, but felt a hand cover her wrist. Clarke shook her head at her.

"I asked you out, it's only fair."

Clarke pointed to the ceiling.

"I know you chose the place but that won't change my mind."

Clarke huffed. Lexa looked around and then brightened when she saw an empty pool table in the back.

“Do you play?” She asked.

Clarke shrugged. Lexa took Clarke's hand and led her to the table.

“Alright, how about this...” Lexa trailed off, overly confident in her pool skills. “Whoever wins a game of eight-ball gets to cover the tab.”

Clarke arched a brow and mouthed Deal. She grabbed a cue stick and took the rack off the table, then leaned down with her cue in place. Her tongue peeked out just a hint as she focused and then took a powerful shot, knocking three balls in the pockets.

Oohs erupted around them as Lexa’s mouth fell open. Clarke stood up and stared straight at her from across the table, pretending to blow on the cue like it was a smoking gun before she actually winked.

“Fuck me.”

The night went by quickly, so quickly that when Lexa saw that it was well after midnight, her heart clenched in disappointment. They'd played a few more games of pool, all of which Lexa had badly lost, and then went on to try some of the cocktails on the list. They'd listened to the songs - where Lexa had fought against the urge to invite Clarke to dance, thinking maybe it was too soon - tried a game of darts, and then eventually had left to get some fresh air.

In the most casual way, Clarke had slipped her hand in Lexa's while they walked down the longest street in the city. It was thrumming with life and excitement; neon colors in places and soft glows in others. Clarke pointed things out that Lexa missed, like the murals on the sides of buildings or the food trucks she liked. Lexa bought two gelatos while Clarke quickly chatted with friends they'd bumped into, smiling cheekily when Clarke narrowed her eyes at her.

"We said cover the bar tab, not cover the entire night…" she'd justified.

When they made it back to the front of the hotel, Lexa couldn't believe their night was already over. Clarke let go of her hand and leaned against a part of the brick wall. Lexa took a deep breath.

"Tonight was incredible," she said softly. "Thank you for showing me around. And crushing me at pool - it was a needed wake-up call."

Clarke grinned. Lexa didn't want to see things that perhaps weren’t there, but Clarke… looked at her in a way that made it hard to ignore the flutter in her chest. Trying to stall, she glanced toward the door and noticed a wooden sign propped up by it, with Echo & Bellamy carved in it.

"Echo and Bellamy… are they the ones who took six years to date?"

Clarke nodded. She seemed to get an idea then and typed a message:

You should come to the party we’re throwing them tomorrow. Starts at 5pm; it'll be fun.

Lexa felt mild panic, thinking maybe Clarke felt the need to invite her because she'd brought it up.

"Oh, I wouldn't- I'm sure it's friends and relatives only…"

Clarke bit her lip, perhaps just as aware this was moving fast. Inviting someone to friends' engagement party wasn't without its own implications. She signed something slowly, which Lexa guessed the meaning of.

"I'll think about it," she agreed.

Clarke seemed relieved. Her eyes flickered down to Lexa's lips before she caught herself and quickly signed something, easy enough for Lexa to understand.

"Goodnight, Clarke," she answered before watching her go.

In the end, there was very little to think about. Lexa had slept the best she'd had in weeks, on cloud nine after her night with Clarke. She couldn’t explain why she felt such a need to see her again, like time was wasted without her. She had picked out her best summer dress and stopped second-guessing herself.

On her way to the hotel, she picked out flowers, figuring that if it was clearly too much, she could always play them off as a last-minute gift to the bride-to-be. She walked inside and stopped by the desk, but the foyer was empty. Lexa figured she should text Clarke first.

She’d pulled up their conversation when she glanced at the desk and did a sudden double-take.

A photo of Clarke tucked between the computer and a stack of papers caught her eye. She was wearing a graduation gown and standing next to her father with a wide smile. But the sleeve of her gown was pulled down, showing off an unmistakable mark.

Lexa’s heart sank in her stomach.

It was minuscule, just four words from what she could see, but so faded they were illegible. Anyone would miss them at a glance, but wrist tattoos were illegal for the Markless, and as such Lexa knew it couldn't be anything else.

Clarke had a soulmate.

It was all it took to crush Lexa’s hopes. She looked away from the photo and tried to calm her breathing. But why was she so surprised? Of course Clarke would have a mark. Of course she was destined to happiness that someone like Lexa wouldn't be able to provide.

Lexa had thought that settling wouldn’t be as bad as they said if it was with someone like Clarke. She was creative, kind, confident and unbelievably patient - and they'd made each other laugh. What else did anyone need in a partner? Lexa had thought she’d felt a connection, but the ending was always the same: dreams turned into dust. There it was - the mark that made it clear she would just be a layover again. That Clarke would entertain her until she met her soulmate and Lexa became an obstacle to walk around.

But Lexa couldn't go through that pain again. This time she knew it would be too much to bear if she allowed Clarke to hold her heart in her hands. She couldn't do it. Wishing for the best when the best didn't happen to people like her… was self-destruction.

Clarke would get over it. She was with her friends, she'd be fine. Maybe tonight she'd even bump into someone else and they'd utter the words that would change everything for her.

Feeling herself tremble, Lexa set the flowers on the front desk before she darted outside. She swallowed back the lump in her throat and wiped a quick hand over her watery eyes. These feelings that had grown - she would nip them in the bud, and swiftly.

At the peak of the celebration, while families and friends were still enjoying the food and drinks, Clarke found herself wandering between the garden and the front of the hotel. She looked down at her watch and then around again, disappointed that there was still no sign of Lexa.

She found a discarded bouquet of flowers at the front desk and picked it up to put it in water, wondering who could've gotten such nice flowers only to forget them. Later, in the garden, she sat on one of the benches and watched Echo and Bellamy slow-dancing, clearly not bothered by Echo's round belly between them. Clarke's smile slowly fell as she noticed just how many pairs had gotten up to dance as well. She ran her hands down her dress and looked toward the cobbled path, sighing when no one appeared.

Perhaps something had come up at the last minute. Or she'd been too hasty. She looked down at her mark and rubbed her finger over it, frowning when she noticed something.

She lifted her wrist up closer, thinking it was a trick of light, but there was no mistaking it: her mark had faded more.

Part 5

#clexa #clarke x lexa #f: my favorite

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mood-swings-for-days · 5 years

Text

Thunderstorm Ι Ch. 1 Ι JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Werewolf!au

Word count: 5, 283

Warnings: Characters in a less than healthy state of mind, violence, slight body horror, an addicted to cigarettes Jungkook (don’t do drugs, kids!)

Summary: An accidental encounter triggers a series of events that shatter your monotonous life. A new relationship starts to develop, following the stages of a thunderstorm.

Note: Written under the influence of beautiful music

1 2 3 4

Chapter 1: Wind

The heavy downpour served as white noise to you. Dull jazz seeped all around you and into the cracks of your conscious as you stared blankly at the floor. The clock behind you ticked rhythmically, but it felt like time was no longer a thing. The aisles were void of customers for hours and a while ago you had started wondering if the minimum wage was worth all the time you’d wasted in this tiny shop. Days were getting duller as the months passed, having fallen into the same simple routine, you had become so impassive. Long ago you stopped counting the minutes until your shift ended, because you had nowhere to go anyway, which resulted in you going home late on multiple occasions. Your roommate never questioned it, not even when you came back well past midnight. You two didn’t talk much anyway.

The small bell ringing as the door opened brought your mind back into the room, but you didn’t look up.

“Good evening.”

The customer didn’t bother to return your greeting and proceeded to walk between the aisles of overpriced goods. His wet shoes made a rhythmic squelching sound along the tiles. Absentmindedly you thought to mop the floors before you locked up for the night. Some moments later the customer came over to where you were sitting behind the cash register. With a dry exhale you pushed yourself from the chair you were slumped over in. The customer pushed a bottle of water and some cheap cigarettes toward you. His hands were bony, pale, and raw and bruised along the knuckles. Out of instinct you looked up to see his face. He was at least a foot taller than you, dressed in all black and completely soaked in rainwater. His dripping black bangs fell into his eyes and he wasn’t really trying to make eye contact, instead staring down at his stuff on the counter. Over all he looked like an average twenty-something year old dude, nothing in particular struck you as odd except for his beaten up hands. You scanned his things without much contemplation.

“That’ll be 6,75.”

He dug into the pocket of his jeans and threw a damp, slightly crumpled ten-dollar bill on the counter. You reached into the cash register for his change as he started opening the pack of cigarettes before even exiting the store. Clamping one between his lips, he pocketed the $3,25 you gave him and turned to walk out. The door was halfway open when he stopped. The sound of pouring rain from outside becoming even louder.

“Shouldn’t you be going home?” You heard his voice for the first time. Turning to look at the clock, it was ten thirty and your shift had ended over an hour ago. The bell rang as the door fell shut. You watched his blurry silhouette through the glass as he lit his cigarette and disappeared into the rain.

In the next thirty minutes’ no one else came in while you moped the floor and counted the shop turnover. In another ten minutes you had locked the place up and were headed home in your 1972 ford f100. The windshield wipers fighting the onslaught of rainwater was about the only dynamic thing in your drive back until you noticed a guy walking down your side of the road several feet down. You recognized him to be the customer from earlier. He was walking with his hands in his pockets, completely defenseless against the downpour. As you were approaching him, something came over you. Your truck passed him and slowed down to a stop. A few moments later he peeked through your passenger side window with a cocked brow. You reached over the gear stick and opened the door for him.

“It’s raining.” You pointed, hesitating what to say “We’re headed the same way and figured you needed a ride.”

The guy looked at you blankly for a few seconds as the heavy rain seeped into the interior of your car. The longer he measured you up, the more you wondered if offering him a ride was a bad idea in the first place. He took his undoubtedly wet cigarette out of his mouth and flicked it behind your car.

“I appreciate it, but don’t you think offering random strangers a ride is a bit reckless.”

You blinked at him, fully realizing he was right, but you shrugged anyway.

“Are you getting in or not? My car’s getting wet.”

With a chuckle he climbed into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut. You started your truck back up and proceeded to drive without another word. The stranger rolled down his window and lit another cigarette, a dry one. The smell of smoke and wet asphalt flooded the car. He was leaning his elbow against the open window and taking frequent drags from his cigarette, looking at the forest of pine trees that was lining the side of the road.

“Sorry ‘bout that, but I was dying for a smoke. My last two got pretty messed up cause the rain.” He informed you and you didn’t really mind. The cold air seeping from outside was pleasant on your skin and there was something nostalgic about the smell of cigarette smoke inside this car.

“My name’ s Jungkook.” He offered “In case you were wondering.”

“Y/n”

Aside from that little exchange, the car ride was mostly silent. Jungkook kept looking out the window while you sneaked glances at him from the corner of your eye. You turned down the road circling the forest and headed for your house. He never mentioned where he was going and somehow you forgot to ask.

“So, where do you need me to drop you off?”

Jungkook glanced at you briefly and shrugged. “Anywhere around here’s fine. I’m not gonna make you drive me home.”

It was a couple miles down the road from your house when you stopped. You turned your attention towards Jungkook and found him looking at you already. By the time you arrived the downpour had somewhat subsided.

“Thank you.” He said simply but made no move to try and get out of the car.

You nodded, not really knowing what you were supposed to say. Picking him up off the road was kind of a spur of the moment decision, but you didn’t really want to tell him that. He was looking at you calmly with big brown eyes and a smile. For a few moments you allowed yourself to examine his face. There wasn’t anything spectacular about his features per se, but he was handsome in a weirdly alluring way. You chalked it up to your perpetual lack of contact with the opposite sex. Still, you couldn’t help the way your eyes followed his tongue as it poked out to wet his bottom lip. Now that the window on his side had been rolled up you could smell the rain and smoke on his clothes, but there was also something else, something particularly masculine about his scent. It wasn’t cologne and it most definitely wasn’t sweat, but it smelled familiar. There were a lot of little things about this guy that you seemed to pick up on. It really had been a while, you thought, since you last looked at a guy like that. Jungkook also seemed to look at you with interest as the thoughts stumbled around in your brain. The smile he wore a second ago had given way to a somewhat unreadable expression. He blinked once, twice and leaned toward you. Your breath hitched when his cold lips touched yours. It’s like static burned you for a moment and you flinched. When he pulled back you were left with the taste of cigarette smoke on your mouth.

“Thanks,” he repeated “but don’t ever pick a random person up off the road again, no matter how hard it’s raining. Others might not have your best intentions in mind and you never know what might be sitting in your passenger seat.”

You just kept looking at him wordlessly. You couldn’t decide if the kiss or the gentle scolding he was giving you bewildered you more. Jungkook sighed softly and reached for the door.

“Goodnight.” He offered for the last time and exited the car

“Night.” You mumbled quietly, but he heard you. You followed his movements as he rounded the front of your truck. In the headlights his eyes flashed for a brief second before he walked off. Just like an animal’s eyes, you thought absentmindedly as you watched his back disappear the further he went. You just stood still until you could no longer see him and then looked down at where he was sitting just a minute ago. The worn out leather of the seat was still very much wet. Your mind went blank and you just stared at the wet spot his body had left. Suddenly your desire to figure out what happened fizzled out. Passively you reached for the key and restarted your truck.

When you got home your roommate was fast asleep on the couch with a movie still running on TV. You turned it off, ate a bowl of cereal for dinner and quickly fell asleep to the sound of raindrops against your window.

Your sleep was far from peaceful though. Months ago your dreams had disappeared and every morning you woke from a forgetful slumber. Tonight however images of dark looming pines and a voice carried by the wind haunted the minutes of unconsciousness you managed to obtain between tossing and turning. Your boots were sinking into the muddy grass, lining the forest floor. The wind felt painfully cold against your bare skin as you looked around for the source of the incoherent whispers you were hearing. Seconds later you were sitting up in your bed thoroughly disconcerted and making sure you were alone in the room. Laying back down you blacked out again almost immediately. Back into the woods, the wind was howling all around you, warning of an upcoming thunderstorm. The full moon kept coming in and out from between the clouds and in the brief moments of clarity you frantically looked around. The tall pines swayed against the force of the wind, throwing moving shadows that were suspiciously reminiscent of the human form. You just kept running blindly, being driven by some internal force to keep looking. The damp air around you was both freezing and suffocating. Your breath was coming out in white puffs the faster you ran, slipping on moss and stumbling over your own feet. And that damned whispering could still be heard all around you. The wind only seemed to amplify it. Abruptly, you stopped. Where were you going exactly? Were you running to where you assumed the exit of the forest to be or were you running towards the supposed source of the whispering? Your escape came unexpectedly when you opened your eyes for the umpteenth time that night. Your eyelids felt so heavy and your body was aching, your limbs felt cold and heavy. With a trembling exhale you stared out your window. Just beyond your back yard you could see the very forest that made your night so restless. By now the rain had stopped, the sky was clearing and just behind the pines you could see dawn approaching. A heavy yawn tore from your lungs and you couldn’t resist the fatigue anymore. Falling against the pillow you slipped into deep, dreamless sleep.

The next few weeks trickled by uneventful as ever. Your faithful routine once again becoming inescapable. In the morning you went to work, doing twelve hour shifts five days a week, sometime around nine or ten you went home, ate whatever was most convenient at the time and fell asleep. In comparison to your time awake, your dreams were wild. Running around the woods for hours on end, clinging to every little sound or movement and waking up on multiple occasions with chilled skin and goosebumps all over. On your days off your body desperately tried to recover from all the sleepless nights. You frequently passed out all over the place. On the kitchen table, on the couch while watching a movie, in bed every time you laid down, and even on the toilet a few times, literally anywhere you stayed immobile for an extended period of time. All the sleep however had the opposite effect on you. Instead of getting some rest you felt like the exhaustion was crushing you. Human interactions started to sound like white noise to you and your vision was blurry, so much so you stopped driving your truck to and from work in fear of losing control and crashing. You took the 45-minute walk twice every day with a blank stare ahead and zero sense of your surroundings. The damned woods kept you company, lining your periphery with all their rustling branches and unseen inhabitants.

Soon enough the new university year was about to start, reminding you why exactly you chose to stay in this wilting part of the world in the first place. However, starting your lectures didn’t exactly bring with them the sense of purpose you were hoping to obtain. The only things that added to your routine were a whole bunch more school work to do and a certain bubbly character to accompany you in what little free time you had left. Your childhood best friend was back from her trip abroad to start another year at university. Your obscure dreams never ceased to keep you on the brink of existence and anything you tried to do took twice as long as it normally would, which left you with very little free time and patience to deal with Yara.

You two were huddled up in a tight booth at the back of your local café, sitting opposite each other with your laptops open and a lengthy MS Word document on your screen.

“Writing essays is damn near impossible!” Yara pouted and sipped on her sugary latte.

You directed your attention toward her over the laptop screen. Her short, pumpkin-orange hair was held back by two bow-shaped clips on either side. It stood out against her pale skin and fluffy white sweater. You followed the carmine smudge her lips left on the rim of her drink and couldn’t help but think how the sugary beverage perfectly matched her sweet attitude and appearance. You on the other hand had picked up the habit of drinking copious amounts of bitter black coffee in your attempts keep your sanity.

“You know,” Yara picked up a different tone to her voice “ever since I came back you’ve been acting kind of…” she paused to study your face for a moment “kind of off, I guess. You’re like a shell of your former self.”

A shell of your former self? Yeah, that was one way to put it, you chuckled. Yara was staring at you with the intensity of a stubborn preschooler. A hint of irritation clenched in your chest at that expression she wore. How were you supposed to tell her that some random guy kissed you after you picked him up off the road in the dead of night and you’ve been having this oddly specific dream disrupting your sleep when she was looking at you like that. To be honest you didn’t think the two were connected in any particular way just because they happened to happen on the same day. The look on her face however was really starting to annoy you. Her cheeks were slightly puffed out, lips pursed and eyes narrowed with the silliest kind of determination. Deep down you knew it was only her ever insatiable curiosity that drove her to ask about your life.

“What are you scowling at me for?” Yara grumbled without breaking eye contact.

“How about you mind your own fucking business for once!” Your built up irritation suddenly exploded in her face. The annoying look of determination quickly disappeared and for once Yara seemed to be caught off guard. She stared at you wordlessly and you were already starting to regret your outburst.

“Yara, I -”

“Y/n, you can yell at me if that helps, but something really is wrong with you.” You couldn’t meet her eyes anymore; guilt was eating away at your conscious. When did you become like this? Was your life that pathetic that you felt threatened by your best friend trying to catch up because you had nothing to offer but an outlandish story about some guy and a stupid dream? Maybe you were jealous because Yara had her life together? It was your own fault for choosing to live your life so monotonously, waiting for some magical event to break up your routine. It was your own fault for deciding to deprive yourself from things like traveling, human interactions and meaningful relationships. And it wasn’t like you were building your future either. You were simply trapped by your insecurities and fear of ‘what ifs’, fear of commitment and at the same time inability to let go.

“Hey, don’t freeze up like that!” Yara’s gentle touch pulled you from your destructive self-criticism. “If you feel uncomfortable, I won’t ask again. I’m just worried, because you seem to be in pretty rough shape.”

The genuine warmth you found when you finally looked into her eyes felt like a punch to the gut. There you went again, distancing yourself from the person who had your best intentions in mind. Yara had been with you through it all, you realized, and she was interested in your because she was your friend, not because she was being nosy or trying to poke fun at you. Seriously, what was wrong with you to immediately feel threatened?

“I’m sorry.” You struggled and failed to mask the tremble in your voice.

“Stop beating yourself up over it.” You flinched “That’s not a healthy state of mind to be in, believe me.”

You breathed s heavy sigh, but decided to be honest with her.

“I’ve been having some trouble sleeping lately…” You started a bit hesitantly “… There’s this weird dream that I keep waking up from and I can’t seem to get rid of it. It’s really stupid, I keep hearing someone whispering and then I start running through the woods, and I don’t know where I’m going, and I keep waking up before I can figure it out. Every time I fall asleep everything starts all over again and I’m sick of it. I wake up at least 5 or 6 times every night and it’s been driving me insane for weeks.”

Yara quietly waited for you to finish your rant. All throughout your gaze kept bouncing between her and the table in front of you, checking for any sign of mockery, but it never came.

“Have you ever tried to go out there?” She suggested out of nowhere

“Go out where?”

“Out in the woods.” Yara shrugged “Dreams are a form of expression of our subconscious desires, you know. Your dream seems straightforward enough and I don’t really think there’s some hidden meaning behind it.”

You were looking at her suspiciously. “You know there’s bears and stuff in the woods, right?”

“Look, I wouldn’t be suggesting this if I had a better idea. Next time you wake up from that dream, get some bear spray and a flashlight and go out there for a bit. I mean, if you have a better idea, I’m listening.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about any solutions, so I guess this is something.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll come over. When you decide to go out there, wake me up and I’ll be waiting for you to come back.”

“That could work.” You nodded “There’s something else I want to tell you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Yara smiled

“The day my dreams started… God, I hate the way that sounds, but back when it started I accidentally stayed late at work. It was raining really heavily and this guy came in the store and -”

Your words died in your throat when you saw a familiar face walk in through the door of the coffee shop. You hadn’t seen him in over a month, but there he was in all his dark and looming glory. Jungkook walked over to the barista with his hands in his pockets and you hated the way your adrenaline spiked at the sight of him. Yara was staring at you in silent bewilderment, but you couldn’t muster the strength to look away from him.

“That’s him. That’s the guy I’m talking about.”

“Who?!” Yara shrieked as she whipped her orange head around to scan the vicinity of the café.

Upon hearing the unnaturally loud noise, Jungkook slowly turned around to look for the source. His eyes quickly zeroed in on Yara blatantly staring at him. They had a brief stare down, during which you just wanted to crawl under the table and out of sight. Just as suddenly as before Yara Jolted her head back around to look at you instead.

“Isn’t that… oh, what’s his face? Jeon Jungkook?”

But you couldn’t answer her because, now that Yara wasn’t serving as a distraction, Jungkook’s attention had shifted to you. He looked good, better that the first time you saw him anyway. This time he was dry, wearing simple torn blue jeans and a long black jacket. His hair was covered by a beanie and there was a seemingly empty backpack swinging on his shoulder. Jungkook picked up his drink from the counter and turned to leave, offering you a small nod as a parting gift. Your eyes followed him out the door and through the window. Just like he did over a month ago, he stopped to pull a cigarette out and light it before proceeding to walk away.

“Sooo,” Yara started “what’s up with you and that Jungkook guy?”

Embarrassment tinted your cheeks red upon realizing you had been caught. Yara was grinning at you and you could practically see the onslaught of questions that were bubbling up in her throat. By the time you started speaking she was barely holding back.

“It’s nothing special, calm down.” You attempted to counteract her excitement. “He was my last customer for the night and while I was driving back home I saw him walking down the road in the rain. I don’t know why, but I gave him a ride. That’s all. The weird thing is that my dreams started that same night. I don’t think it’s related, but I thought I’d mention it anyway.”

You decided to skip the part where he kissed you, because you weren’t sure what that was about.

“That’s it?” Yara stared at you with the most disappointed face “And here I was thinking you two hooked up in your dad’s old truck.”

“Told you it’s nothing special.” You sipped on your now cold coffee and the bitterness of it gave you chills. You didn’t even like coffee in the first place. “Anyway, how do you know him?”

Yara shrugged “I know pretty much everyone in our university.” Upon seeing your confused expression, she continued “Yeah, I even noticed him attending some of our lectures. He always sneaks into class late. Dude’s a freaking magician, I can never catch him when he comes and goes. He’s pretty cute, but is also kinda weird and always keeps to himself. I’ve seen him hang out with very few people, I guess he has a tight friend circle or something.”

You just sat back and listened in awe to all the information she was feeding you about this guy you’ve never seemed to notice before. Since when was Yara this well educated about people’s lives, you wondered.

“He’s not much of a player too, despite what people think. I heard he’s hooked up with two or three girls that were older than him and already graduated by now. That’s about it.”

Yara nodded in satisfaction when she finished her little resume of Jungkook’s history on campus. You guess she was people watching every time you assumed she was spacing out. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at the thought of Yara eavesdropping on people’s conversations and keeping tabs on people she never even talked to.

You two stayed in the coffee shop until closing time, rekindling your relationship and laughing wholeheartedly at each other. After you left, you ate doughnuts for dinner and went back to your place, determined to watch movies until you both passed out.

A random horror movie was playing on the TV and you seemed to be the only one paying attention. Yara was buried somewhere under an ungodly amount of blankets, dozing off repeatedly but trying her damnedest to stay awake. Her half-conscious face was bobbing up and down and she released yawn after yawn until she finally gave in. She fell face first into the blankets and started snoring softly. For a while you tried to follow suit, but sleep never came by to take you. Still you stubbornly squeezed your eyes shut and tried to find the most comfortable position. On TV the movie was still playing so you decided you might as well watch it. Maybe it could work some magic and put you to sleep. The movie was about a train breaking down in the middle of the woods. As you watched the looming drone shots of the foggy forest you couldn’t escape the weird feeling crawling up your chest. Overwhelming curiosity was eating you alive and making you excited at the thought of finally figuring out what was pulling you into the woods. Perhaps this was what was keeping you awake. A part of you wanted to just get up and go already, but, as stupid as it may sound, the other part felt like it wasn’t right to do it without being woken up from your dream. You felt like a little kid being told that Santa wasn’t coming unless they were asleep. It was so stupid but you still hesitated to get up.

Some howling returned your attention to the movie. You didn’t realize it was a werewolf movie when you picked it. You hated this kind of stuff so you immediately reached for the remote and switched it off. The sound of howling gave you the chills and you didn’t want to deal with this bullshit tonight. Blocking the sound from your memory you curled in on yourself and pulled the blankets tightly around you. Not soon enough your eyelids started getting heavy.

Your dreams were unnervingly tranquil. Instead of the frantic running you were used to, there was only darkness. Thick, unmoving darkness rendered your eyesight useless. At your sides, your fingers twitched nervously. The only familiarity presented itself in the form of a cold breeze, brushing against your bare skin and raising goosebumps in its wake. You strained your ears for even the slightest noise, but you heard nothing. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, your limbs felt too heavy to move and your heart was hammering in your chest.

Smoke? You sniffed the air around you. Cigarette smoke. The wind was carrying it, swirling it around you and blowing it away. Immediately, you thought about Jungkook and felt mildly irritated. Of course the only time you wanted to experience the damned dream this would happen. You blamed Yara and the amount of personal information about Jungkook she dumped on you earlier. A smile stretched across your face and you let your guard down. You couldn’t get mad because you finally had normal human interactions in your life.

You felt warmth slide up your arms. You flinched but couldn’t move. It was the oddest feeling because it felt like human touch, but you couldn’t sense a human presence. It caressed you from your palms, all the way to your shoulders and back. Moving down your spine slowly, it reached your waist and gently tugged you backward. Your shoulders were met with something firm that emanated even more warmth. Everything felt strangely natural, the touch felt familiar on your body and you seemed to relax right into it. The smell of cigarette smoke was stronger now, blended with the scent of fresh linen and something sweet. You inhaled it in big gulps, almost burning the fragrance into your mind. The more you leaned into it, the presence behind you became more solid, more real. Cold breath spilled along your neck and chest and you didn’t even try to stop the prominent chill that made your spine bow against the firm body behind you. Your hands shifted from your sides to reach backward, your fingers came in contact with a rough fabric you recognized to be denim. Your shoulders were pressed into something much softer like a hoodie, you guessed. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to turn around, but you were scared that this lovely feeling would vanish if you did. So you kept your movements soft and slow, carefully sliding your hand up your chest. You felt electricity prick at your fingertips the closer you got. Agonizingly slow they slipped over the swell of your breast, over your ribs and collarbone and up your throat and jaw. You held your breath the closer you got, just a little bit more, you reached back. Your fingers flinched when they made contact with hot, silky smooth skin. You ventured further, your palm sliding shyly along it, shaking slightly. Your hand was wrapping around the back of someone’s neck, you realized when your fingers touched soft, short hair. The person leaned into your hesitant touch and for the first time you felt his chest expand with a deep inhale against your back. If you focused hard enough, you could even feel his rapid heartbeat onto your shoulder blade. You couldn’t see or hear a thing but, God, you other senses were going into overdrive. Every cell in your body tingled in anticipation of the slightest stimulation and this person’s scent was so pungent all around, you could taste it in your throat.

A howl tore through the matter of your fantasy. The sound came so suddenly through the silence, that it made tears pool at the corners of your eye. Your body was completely stripped of warmth when a gust of wind slammed into you from behind and left you shivering. Cold droplets started to rattle against your shoulders and when you opened your eyes you were once again faced with the image of tall looming pines. The whispering was also coming back in full force and it only seeped to grow louder the longer you listened. The sudden onslaught of noise made tears stream down your face. Just as the whispers started to morph into screams, you felt a suffocating pain erupt in your throat. Instinctively you squeezed your hands against it until you realized, there was blood pouring out between your fingers.

Your body shot up with a screeching inhale. Your hands unconsciously palmed at your throat. You stared right ahead into the darkness of your living room, everything was just as you had left it, Yara was cuddled up under her blanket pile, undisturbed. Your body was trembling and heavy tears rolled down your cheeks and into your lap.

“Fuck this.” You croaked in a tiny voice “What the fuck just happened?!”

You turned to look out the window. The first rays of sunlight were starting to creep over the horizon. One thing’s for sure, you weren’t going into the forest anytime soon.

...

Disclaimer: I didn’ come up with the name Yara myself, but instead got influenced by @kinktae ‘s story. Other than that the character has been made up by me. Just giving credit where it’s due.

#bts #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts fanfction #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts scenarios #bts drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bangtan #bangtan boys #smut #angst #ggukienet

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