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moonhoures · 2 years

Text

first love part 2

pairing: soobin (txt) + reader (fem.)

genre: non-idol!au, college!au, fluff, smut [ nsfw | mdni ]

warnings: 18+, explicit smut, minors do not interact, established relationship, oral (m receiving), facial (kind of?), very mild cum eating, hair pulling, mild marking/biting, fingering, choking, overstimulation, use of protection 👍🏻

word count: ~6.9K

synopsis: with yeonjun still out of town, soobin takes full advantage of the privacy to do some more exploring with you

posted: november 6, 2021

haven’t read the first love series? you can catch up here

After you and Soobin shared his first time, your boyfriend seemed like a new man. His confidence was higher than ever before, and he walked around with an almost smug grin on his face. His urge for PDA also became more apparent in his constant holding of your hand, sneaking kisses to your lips instead of your cheeks like usual, even going as far to kiss your neck in public—which he never did before that day. You knew this was all because his sex drive was suddenly acknowledged, therefore it was heightened. And as much as you teased him about it, you found it unbelievably attractive. So attractive, that the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. The both of you thanked the universe that you could share this weekend together in peace with Yeonjun still on vacation.

Friday night, after the two of you cleaned up, Soobin treated you two to dinner off campus at your favorite phở place. He made cheeky comments about how excited he was to get back to his dorm, reluctantly asking if you still wanted to continue.

“We could watch a movie if you don’t want to,” he offered, even though the both of you knew he hoped you would agree to have sex.

You teasingly smiled at him as you took a spoonful of your phở and spoke after, “Why watch a movie when we could make one?”

You could practically see the gears in his brain short-circuiting, which made you laugh. A dumb-struck look was stuck on his features as he processed your words before he scoffed out a laugh, “Are you serious?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it, but maybe another time. I think we should get more comfortable with each other in private before we do it in front of a camera.”

He nodded, showing that he was paying attention, when you could tell he was very much imagining the two of you with his phone set up perfectly on his bedside table to capture you in the act–

“Soobin, close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

Your boyfriend looked up at you, smiling in embarrassment at your observation, “I’d really like to know what kinks you have.”

“Same,” you replied, “Honestly, though, I just really want you in my mouth.”

Soobin’s shoulders physically slouched at your comment, and for a moment he forgot you were in the corner of a restaurant with people nearly ten feet from your table. Luckily, the two of you conversed softly enough that you didn’t gain the attention of the elderly couple nearby. You grinned slyly as you took another bite of your food, Soobin watching you intently. You gestured for him to finish his food, and he obliged only after you noticed him gulp.

When the food was gone from your plates, the two of you left the restaurant, hand-in-hand. Kisses were shared whenever possible, at stop signs, intersections, when Soobin waited to turn into the campus parking lot, as the two of you got out of his car. Your lips only got more-so inseparable the closer you got to his door. And once the lock was latched, it was game time.

“Are you sure y-“

“Soobin, this is the most sure I’ve ever been about anything. Ever,” you interjected, your lips brushing between words. Your boyfriend smiled in your kiss, his hands on your waist leading you to the bed and pressing your ass against the edge of it. His bed was a little higher than most, the top of it reaching the top of your thighs. One little hop and you’d be sitting on it, but you didn’t want that right now.

“Sit down,” you whispered in his ear before pressing a kiss to his sideburn, making his neck twitch to the side as he hoped you’d press more kisses down his throat. When you didn’t, he listened to you. Switching positions with you, he was now sitting on the edge of the mattress with you standing between his legs.

A sultry look from you had his dick already beginning to throb, and your fingers could feel it vaguely with your hand running over the bulge in his sweatpants. You took your time massaging him through the grey material, enjoying the small moans he let out periodically to let you know it felt good. After a few moments you moved forward, hooking your fingers in his sweatpants and tugging them down. He stood to help you as you dragged them all the way down, getting onto your knees as you tossed the discarded pants to the side. He was now left in only his boxers as he sat back, his hands holding him up as he leaned back just enough to watch you.

The look he gave you as he watched you press little kisses on the top of his thighs was to die for. If there was one thing you loved doing it was seeing Soobin’s face as you did dirty things to him. His plush, parted lips and his half-lidded eyes were a combination you could look at every day and never get tired of. A tiny hiss came from between his clenched teeth as you finally pressed a kiss to what felt like the head of his hardening member under the thin garment he wore. Your hands continued to rub the tops of his thighs as you pressed open-mouthed kisses along the outline of his growing erection.

“You’re torturing me, _______,” he groaned, his head rolling back until the only thing you could see was the underside of his chin.

You chuckled, “I’m sorry, baby, you just look so good when I tease you.”

“Well it doesn’t feel good,” he spoke through rugged breath, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had blue balls, but if you don’t touch me soon I’ll definitely have them again.”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatic statement, “Okay, okay. Just be patient, and I’ll make you feel really good.”

Soobin let out a small whine, but it quickly turned into a gasp as he looked down to see you pulling his boxers from his hips. He lifted them up so you could tug them easier and faster, discarding them along with his pants. His now-hard member stood at attention for you, blushing with red hues and veins that resembled the ones along his arms and hands that you inwardly drooled over. You immediately felt your mouth watering the same as it did earlier when he refused you from sucking him off.

“________ . . . “ he moaned, aching to be touched, “please.”

“Sorry, baby, I was distracted,” you smirked up at him, and any other time he would’ve laughed, but he needed you so bad he couldn’t think straight. He just wanted you to–

You pressed a soft kiss to the very tip of him, making him sigh. His eyes stayed trained on you with no plans to look away. He didn’t want to miss even a second of this.

Your tongue fell past your lips to give kitten licks to the head of his erection, picking between slow licks and faster ones. You paid attention to the tip before moving along his length, on all sides. You found he was more sensitive right underneath the head when he let out a long whimper and threw his head back for a moment. That knowledge would definitely come in handy later on, so you put it aside.

Finally, your right hand reached up to hold the very base of him in your grip, holding him steady as you gathered some saliva on your tongue and prepared to spread it over him. His chest rose and fell quicker as he watched your mouth work on him carefully, your lips enveloping his tip and going further to coat his length. A low groan erupted from his chest into his throat, and it made the corner of your lips spread into a smile around him as you pushed him as far as he would go down your own throat. When you couldn’t take him anymore, you slowly let go, moving your hand up to further spread your spit over him. The feeling of your now wet hand fisting around his length was starting to make him go crazy.

His hips thrusted shallowly into your grip, and your other hand quickly came up to push him back down. This made him look at you with a furrowed brow.

“Stay still and be good for me,” you told him rather than asking, keeping eye contact with him as you fluttered your lashes and took him deep in your mouth again. His eyelids quivered, and then a mix between another groan and a growl ripped through his parted lips in frustration. You knew he was feeling agitated, but you were loving every second of this.

You decided not to hold back anymore, taking him fully between your lips, bobbing your head over and over. You listened to his moans like a lovely song, taking them into consideration to know what to spend more time doing. Your fingers that gripped his base moved to his balls to knead them in your hand, which made his moans way louder and high-pitched, almost gasp-like. There’s no way he would last much longer.

“Are you close, Soobin?” you asked in a deceivingly innocent tone. His eyes were closed, so he opened them just a little to see you rubbing your parted lips over the tip of his dick as you waited for his response.

“So- So close,” he panted, his thigh twitching under your free hand.

“Where do you want to cum, baby?” you asked, watching as his eyes slightly widened down at you, “My face? My chest? My mouth?”

You definitely thought he was going to choose your mouth, but to your surprise he quickly responded with, “Your chest! Oh my god, please, your chest.”

Your lips parted further in confusion, but with the way his wet erection twitched under your grip, you knew you didn’t have much time to press him on his decision. So you nodded, hurriedly rushing to pull his shirt over your head, and the both of you were thankful you didn’t put your bra back on after you showered. With your chest free, and your hair pushed back from your face, you took him back in your hand, pumping him. You sucked the tip of him for a moment before removing your lips and putting more force into getting him off with your hand.

He let out a whimper, his orgasm getting closer by the second.

“Cum for me, Soobin. All over my breasts, baby,” you leaned your upper half back a bit, giving him room to let go so it wouldn’t all end up in one spot below your neck. Your free hand came up to your breast, playing with your nipple for his entertainment. That’s when you remembered how much he loved you complimenting him. “Come on, baby. You’re doing so well. Cum on my boobs, Soobin. I know you want to-“

Bingo.

Your boyfriend let out an adorably loud moan, the sound so guttural and deep that you knew it came from the depths of his rib cage. His orgasm rippled through him until his semen spewed out of him in spurts onto your chest. It ended up in small amounts all over you: on your chin, your neck, your collarbone, between your breasts, around your nipple. It was a bit more than you were expecting, but you realized it was his first blowjob.

For a few seconds the only sound in the room was Soobin’s hard breathing-panting combination. You let out a giggle at his fucked out expression. His head was thrown back again, his Adam’s apple bobbing against his throat as he struggled to calm his breath. At the sound of your giggle, his head snapped down to look at you.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked, a slight pout to his lips.

“Nothing, baby, you just look pretty like this. All fucked out for me,” you mused, leaning your chin up and pursing your lips in a silent way of asking him for a kiss.

He obliged with a sweet smile, taking your cheek in his huge hand as he pressed his soft lips to your wet ones. When he pulled away there was the smallest string of his cum detaching itself from your chin onto his. You went to wipe it off with your thumb, but he took your wrist in his grip, leading your digit between his lips. Never before had he tasted himself, but it was interesting.

Your heat throbbed at the sight and the feeling of him sucking on your fingers, and as soon as he released you, you collected a decent amount of his cum on your thumb to repeat his action in your own lips. He tasted just as good as you imagined.

“You did so well for me, Bin,” you assured him as you stood up, now looking down at him from your position between his knees.

He hummed in a satisfying tone, pulling you by the waist for a deep, tender kiss. Afterwards, the two of you decided to spend the night actually watching a movie, then falling asleep after the credits rolled.

The next day was Saturday, which meant no classes, which meant more time with Soobin, which meant more time to do whatever you wanted together, which meant . . .

“What’s your favorite position?”

You smiled to yourself, not looking up from your Twitter feed as your boyfriend randomly questioned you from the other side of his bed. Currently, you sat with your back comfortably against his pillows, your calves resting in Soobin’s lap as he sat against the wall, his own legs stretched out in front of him with his feet hovering over the side of the mattress. The two of you were enjoying the comfortable silence as you both scrolled your phones respectively, you on Twitter, him on TikTok. That’s when he suddenly decided to pop his question.

“Hm,” you took a second to think about it. You weren’t exactly adventurous with your past sexual encounters. Most of your times were spent in missionary or standing up or in a cowgirl position. Well, except for once, “Doggy style can be nice, but it’s a bit tiring on my back.”

Soobin recalled the doggy style position, and the thought alone made his heart skip a beat. The mental picture of you on all fours atop his mattress as he thrusted into you from behind, his hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you close. It had his tongue stuck between his teeth.

He was only torn from his dirty imagination when he noticed you snapping for his attention, “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Yeah, why did you ask?”

“Because I was thinking we could try something different from missionary,” he stated simply, trying to remember all the positions he saw on that sex health website.

“I’ve never tried spooning before,” you thought out loud.

“What position do you think I’d like?”

“Depends,” you shrugged, “Do you care to look at me?”

He scoffed, thinking you were joking. When he realized you weren’t, his chin tilted slightly, “Well of course I want to look at you. What’s the point if I don’t watch you the whole time?”

“I was just thinking something like reverse cowgirl could be fun.”

He pouted a little, which took you aback, “I want to be able to touch your boobs, though.”

You let out a small snort of a laugh, making him grin, “You really are a boobs guy.”

He nodded happily, turning his phone off and laying it beside him before sighing, resting his head back against the wall. His neck was on full display, the vague print of your hickey still visible on his neck. The thought of giving him another one made your thighs press together, and he noticed.

“Well, let’s try spooning,” he suggested, turning his head to you, an eyebrow cocked upwards as if asking if you wanted to.

You followed his lead and shut your phone off, setting it aside on the table. You then lowered yourself on the bed, lying on your back, which put your thighs over Soobin’s lap. His hand rested on your thigh, his fingertips brushing the space between them. If he moved any higher he would be touching your center, which he definitely took note of.

“I also have another idea,” you spoke, trying to get his attention from between your legs to your face. Luckily, he had enough self control to do so, “How about if we think of something we want to try, we just say it and then try it, and we can go from there. Go with the flow.”

Soobin nodded, his hand rubbing your skin as it moved up and over to your hip, “Sounds good to me, but ________?”

“Hm?” you made eye contact with him as he started to crawl over you, his knee adjusting itself between yours so he was straddling your thigh.

“Can I get these off of you?” his fingers toyed with the edge of his shorts that you wore after last night. They were already so loose on you that they were sitting low on your hips anyways.

“You didn’t even have to ask,” you said, leaning up to pull him into a kiss as his hands made work of getting his clothes off of you. Once they were off, he was in between your legs, his clothed erection nudging against your bare core. You hummed in frustration into the open-mouthed kiss, causing him to pull away with heavy breaths and swollen lips.

“Are you okay?”

“Your sweatpants are rough down there,” you half-whined, already moving to tug them down.

He laughed at your desperation, almost wanting to tease you, “Be patient.”

“Soobin, you know I’m not a patient person.”

“Trust me, I do know. Maybe you need to be taught to be patient,” he said matter-of-factly before leaning down and pressing wet kisses along your neck. This time he purposefully ground his hips between yours, making you whine in his ear as your hand reached up to his hair.

Soobin put extra focus into forming a hickey on your neck, periodically rocking his hips into yours to hear your melodic noises. Meanwhile, one of your hands was rubbing his back underneath his shirt while the other buried its fingers in his dark hair. When one particular rut of his bulge brushed against your center just right, you not only let out a long moan, but you also gripped his hair tight in your fingers, tugging just enough to make Soobin hum in pain against your throat. The vibration on your neck made you sigh in pleasure.

Your boyfriend pulled back from your neck to look at you with an unrecognizable expression.

“What?” you asked, worried that you might have done something wrong.

“That felt good.”

“It didn’t sound like it did,” you chuckled.

“Well, no, it did hurt, but . . . in a good way?”

“Do you want me to do it again?”

“Yeah,” he nodded eagerly, “But only when you feel like doing it. Go with the flow, remember?”

You smiled in agreement, letting him capture your lips back with his for a moment before he pulled away just enough to stick his hand between your bodies. He didn’t expect you to be wet yet, so he was pleasantly surprised to find your folds decently slick. His fingertips ran between the sensitive skin, prepping you for a moment before delving themselves into your core. Your grip on his hair tightened, threatening to pull, but you eased when he built up a rhythm with his fingers. It was steady enough to feel good, but not enough to make your orgasm push forward.

“Soobin,” you moaned, taking his attention away from the kisses he was leaving along your jawline. Suddenly you were nervous to ask him what you wanted, so you spoke through your actions. Your hand moved from his back to grab his free hand. He shifted his weight so he could continue to pump his fingers into you and kneel between your legs. He let you direct his free hand to your neck, placing his long digits around the column of your throat. It took him a few seconds, but he finally understood what you wanted him to do.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said plainly, an innocent pout evident in his voice, despite the far-from-innocent things he was doing to your heat at the moment.

“I trust you, Bin, please,” your fingers pressed his close to your neck, urging them to apply pressure, but he refused easily.

“We should at least have a safeword,” he fully stopped his movement between your legs, pulling his fingers from your core and making you whine at the loss. Nonetheless, he gave you a stern look. He took sex very seriously, which despite you acting like a brat, you were really grateful for. None of your past flings or boyfriends were people you trusted enough to try something as dangerous as choking with. Soobin was the first person you could trust fully to take care of you and be gentle. You knew good and well that he would never hurt you.

“Red. I’ll call out ‘red’ for you to stop okay. And if I can’t speak, I’ll pinch you.”

Soobin’s eyebrow furrowed at that, but he nodded, “I’ll make sure you won’t have to pinch me. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m positive,” you nodded desperately, eager for him to stick his fingers back inside of you, “Please keep going, I was close.”

That was enough to convince him to, reluctantly, continue. Your boyfriend slipped his fingers back into your core, making a sigh of a moan fall from your lips. Your hands hovered over his as it carefully wrapped around your throat, his fingers applying the smallest amount of pressure possible. His fingertips brushed the undersides of your jaw, perfectly fitting into the divots of your muscles. It was almost as if his hand was made to fit there.

“Harder,” you begged, noticing how much faster his fingers were going. A familiar knot was starting to form in your abdomen and you needed him to release it for you.

He looked up at you with a questioning look, extremely nervous that he would hurt you, but he did as you said. With his fingertips pressing more firmly, you felt yourself growing slightly dizzier, but not in a scary way. No, it felt amazing. All you could focus on was how amazing his fingers felt between your thighs. How you were so close to-

“_________,” Soobin‘s voice broke through your daze, making you open your eyes that you hadn’t realized were closed. “I thought you were passing out.”

“No,” you croaked out with just enough air to speak, “Keep going. Please, you’re doing so, so good. I’m almost- I’m-“

You cut yourself with a whining moan as his fingers hit just the right spot inside of you, your juices flowing as the knot spontaneously snapped. Your hands grabbed Soobin’s around your neck, pressing them tighter against your skin as your thighs shook around his wrist, holding the limb captive between your legs. Soobin couldn’t free his hands from you if he tried, not that he was complaining, of course. He decided to let you ride out your orgasm, stopping his fingers from moving after your thighs ceased.

“All good?” he asked, worry creeping in when your eyes remained closed and your breathing slowed down. It didn’t help when you didn’t respond right away. With a concerned expression, he hovered over you and tapped your cheek with the hand that had previously been wrapped around your throat.

You opened your eyes with a drunk-like smile on your face, “That was perfect.”

Your boyfriend huffed a sigh of relief, his forehead falling against yours as he stared down at you, “I’m glad, but please don’t give me a heart attack like that again.”

“I would’ve used the safe word if I didn’t feel safe, Bin.”

“You wouldn’t be able to use it if you passed out on me.”

You nodded, “I’m sorry, baby. Let me make it up to you?”

Making up was apparently making out, and Soobin took your apology quite well as he loved the feeling of your lips on his more than anything.

Well, there was one thing he loved just as much.

“Can we try spooning now?”

You agreed quicker than he could finish his question, eager to have him take you any way he wanted. With his guiding hands, you were positioned facing the wall, your back to his chest. In the shifting around, the both of you had stripped down, and Soobin got a condom prepared. You got comfortable on your side, smiling to yourself as he slipped his arm under your head to cushion it for you with his bicep. A gentle kiss was placed to the space between your shoulder and neck as he positioned himself behind you.

Your left leg lifted enough to give him room to enter you, his hand feeding his length into you with steady sighs leaving the both of you from how nice it felt. He started the same as he did before: slowly and gently. You loved your boyfriend’s tender way of love-making, but you had to admit you really wanted him to let go and be aggressive with you. The thought of him showing you no mercy as he pounded into you, his fingers wrapped tightly around your neck, his heavy breath calling you dirty things in your ear.

“You’re so wet,” he marveled, wondering if him fingering you was what had you like this. Little did he know.

You moaned at his comment, then again when his hand started to explore your skin, rubbing from your hips to your stomach, then to your nipples. He took pleasure in playing with your breasts as he thrusted into you, his skin against yours making noise that mingled with the sound of your heavy breathing. You couldn’t believe how good his length felt from this new angle. You really had to convince him to try doggy style next time.

“Soobin, talk dirty to me,” you begged, “Please.”

Your boyfriend was taken aback by your demand, not sure what to do or say, “Like what?”

“Anything. Anything, just- Ah,” you were interrupted by a sharp thrust that felt like it hit your g-spot, making you groan with pleasure.

Soobin wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t read much about dirty talk; mostly because what he saw was about degradation and humiliation, and those were two things he didn’t want to experience nor make you experience them. One Reddit user had said she liked it when her husband called her a dirty slut despite the two of them being in a healthy relationship for years. One man claimed he loved it when his girlfriend said how small his dick was and how it wasn’t big enough for her. He couldn’t imagine someone wanting that, so he was very confused by what you wanted. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to let you down, so he needed to think of something.

“You like that?”

Your heat clenched around him as a sly smile grew on your lips, your hand moving up to cup his that was around your breast, “I need it faster, Soobin.”

“Faster?” he asked, “Do you want it harder, too? Huh?”

All you could do was nod in response, but he didn’t want that, “Speak up, baby. Use that filthy mouth of yours.”

Oh my god.

“Yes, Soobin. Faster. Harder- please.”

You choked out your words, immediately letting out a pathetic, wanton moan as his pace got much quicker and his thrusts got harder. Soobin felt his ego inflating by the second. I’ll definitely have to look up more stuff to say later, he thought.

“Fuck,” he grunted into your neck, pressing a wet kiss there before biting gently. The sensation caused you to reach behind you and grip his hair in your hand, keeping him close to you. The tug of his hair made his skin erupt in goosebumps.

“Cum for me like a good girl,” he whispered in your ear as he pressed a small kiss to it. The gesture tickled a bit and made you shiver. You were so close, but not quite close enough, and he could tell.

A surprised gasp left your parted lips as you felt his hand move from your breast to your neck, his fingers falling into those familiar spots under your jaw. The increasing pressure had you reeling as his thrusts got sloppier behind you and he continued to whisper how good you felt around him. You couldn’t take it anymore, and the feeling of his warm cum filling up the condom sent you over the edge.

“Ah-“ he choked out a groan, his thrusts getting choppy until his hips stuttered to a still. Your breathing was ragged as you came down from your own high, and a smile full of pleasure was stuck on your lips. You chuckled as you noticed his hand went limp around your neck and his thumb gently rubbed the skin he had previously been gripping, soothing it.

“I could do this all day. Everyday,” he admitted, leaning his forehead against the back of your head.

“Me too,” you agreed, turning to look at him. His hand reached up to caress your cheek, bringing you closer until your lips were on his, enveloping them a plush kiss, full of tenderness.

“I love you so much,” he whispered against your lips before pressing another kiss to your cheek.

“I love you more,” you replied, pulling him into another kiss before he could object like you knew he would. His length slid out of you as you did so, which made you pull away with a disappointed groan. Your boyfriend laughed at your reaction.

“We only have tonight to ourselves, then Yeonjun comes back tomorrow morning,” he spoke as if he was reminding the both of you. Although you were looking forward to having your friend back, you definitely weren’t looking forward to not having Soobin all to yourself for a while.

“I know,” you sighed, turning over to face his roommate’s untouched side of the room as your boyfriend removed his used condom and threw it away. He grabbed some tissues from a half-filled box on his dresser and handed them to you to clean up before using some to wipe his now-flaccid length. “I kinda miss him, though.”

“Yeah. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to tease me about losing my virginity,” he laughed. Luckily, his best friend hadn’t mentioned anything over text, but knew he was most likely saving all his comments for when they see each other in person. “How’s Sooyoung been? She isn’t mad at me for keeping you hostage, huh?”

Soobin threw your tissues for you along with his before slipping his boxers back on and sitting beside you on the bed.

“No, the opposite actually. She’s been enjoying the peace and quiet,” you recalled the text she sent you last night asking if (or when) you were coming back to the dorm. You had told her you were going back when Yeonjun returned to which she replied ‘have fun 🥳’ and shortly after ‘not too much fun though 👀’.

That night you and Soobin slept so soundly, but only after spending the evening fucking in any way you wanted. After lunch he practically begged to have you in doggy position, which you both throughly enjoyed. He did complain twice about not being able to see your face or chest, but that didn’t stop him from cumming within five minutes. Shortly after that, you sucked him off as he laid on the mattress prettily for you, a moaning and groaning mess as you took him for all he was worth. He used the safeword for the first time while you were sending him into overstimulation, your kitten licks against his head too much to bare. You immediately stopped, apologizing and pressing soft kisses to his thighs to make it up to him, but he could only shake his head.

“No, it was good. It- It was just too good, though,” he explained between panted breaths, making you smile.

After dinner the two of you cuddled up to settle down and watch another random movie, but it was nothing special. In fact, it was kind of boring, and by the thirty minute mark Soobin was already yawning. You poked his dimple, making him frown.

“You’re not going to fall asleep on me are you? It’s only eight o’clock.”

“I might. This movie is boring,” he admitted, stretching his neck after finding himself growing restless.

“We could watch another one,” you said, going to swipe out of the movie to look for another one. Once you were back to the Netflix screen you felt Soobin’s lips on your neck as he nuzzled his face there. This kid, you thought.

“Or we could do something else,” his words were muffled in your skin.

“You’re unbelievable,” you chuckled, “We’ve done nothing but have sex this weekend and you’re still at it.”

“I’m just trying to take advantage of the little alone time we have,” he explained with a pout, looking up at you, “Yeonjun is coming back tomorrow morning, so honestly, I’m just being smart.”

“Okay, Mr. Intelligent,” you rolled your eyes, laughing when he gave you a faux glare.

The two of you did end up in the cowgirl position for a while, and Soobin decided that was his favorite position. Call him selfish, but he didn’t have to do much work, and he very much enjoyed your breasts in front of his face the entire time. Even more so, he loved having them in his mouth as you rode him. You, on the other hand, came to the conclusion that you preferred missionary. You usually didn’t care much for missionary in your past, but with Soobin it was special. More enjoyable. He made you feel so comfortable and taken care of. All of the research he did definitely showed in the way he pleasured you.

The next morning was the fateful day you two would part ways. To be honest, you did miss being in your own room, and you missed your late night talks with Sooyoung. But you knew you’d miss your time with Soobin a lot, too. After the two of you winded down last night, you had discussed visiting his family for winter break—which you were looking forward to. You both also agreed to try out sexting when you could since you wouldn’t be able to have sex as often. Soobin seemed really excited about the idea of that.

The next morning, you woke up in the same position you fell asleep in: your legs intertwined with Soobin’s and your cheek on his chest, your arm draped over his stomach. He usually didn’t like sleeping on his back, but he fell asleep so easily with you cuddled into his side, his arm holding you close and his chin on the crown of your head. He wore a T-shirt and boxers while you wore nothing but one of his graphic tees.

When you broke from your unconscious state, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and snuggled your cheek more against his chest. Your hand absent-mindedly rubbed his tummy, causing him to hum happily in his sleep. Looking up, you saw the smallest hint of a smile on his sleepy lips.

“Binnie?” you whispered.

He didn’t show any signs of consciousness, so you reached up and caressed his cheek, which he tilted his face into. Your heart was practically swimming in your chest.

“Bin, wake up.”

With the most gentle touch, you tapped his cheek, and his eyes finally blinked open slowly. His hands reached up to swipe over his face, making the apples of his cheeks pink. A small groan escaped his lips as he stretched out his long body over his mattress.

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know. Can you check my phone?”

Your boyfriend reached over and carefully took your phone off of it’s charger, the screen lighting up to display some missed messages from your mom and notifications from a few apps. The time read 7:28 a.m.

“We should start getting ready. We have to be at the station for nine,” you said, leaning up to press an innocent kiss to his jawline.

He grunted in frustration, “Don’t do that, or else Yeonjun will be stranded at the station.”

You laughed at the imagery of your friend standing in front of the station with his bags in hand, an irritated expression on his face as he realized the two of you weren’t there to pick him up as you promised, “He wouldn’t be too happy.”

The two of you got dressed, you in a pair of leggings and the same t-shirt you slept in. Soobin opted for just slipping on some sweatpants with his sleepwear and calling that his outfit for the day. It was Sunday after all, so there was no need to dress extravagantly.

After getting ready, the two of you started on your journey for a cab to the train station, only getting distracted once when Soobin spotted a café with an enticing promotional picture of croissants with jam in the window as well as a latte. It took a minute, but he finally begged you enough to stop there for breakfast that you surrendered. The croissants were delicious, and though Soobin opted for a small chocolate milk, you concluded that their lattes were amazing.

Hand-in-hand again, you and your boyfriend walked along the streets shortly before managing to hail a cab (with the tremendous help of Soobin’s tall figure and long arms to wave them down). The ride wasn’t too long or awkward, the driver was a nice older man who kept quiet most of the ride. When you pulled up to the station, it wasn’t nearly as crowded as it was when you and Sooyoung returned home days ago, thankfully. The train was also a bit early, so you didn’t have to wait long until you saw your friend’s familiar face appear in the front doors, a big smile on his lips when he spotted his favorite couple waiting for him.

“Ah~ My favorite lovebirds,” he greeted you with a hug, repeating the same gesture with your boyfriend, adding a kiss to his cheek which made you giggle. Soobin feigned disgust, wiping the invisible remnants of his friend’s lips from his face.

“Nice to have you back,” he retorted sarcastically.

“I’m sure you are,” Yeonjun smirked, walking to the back of the cab to put his luggage in the trunk after the driver popped it for him, “Our room doesn’t reek of sex, does it? Because if so, I’d rather beg Beomgyu to spend the night on his couch.”

You glanced at Soobin with an embarrassed expression, cowering behind him as you grabbed his hand. Luckily, the taxi’s windows were up, so you hoped the driver didn’t hear Yeonjun’s remark. Your boyfriend let out an annoyed sound, “Can we not talk like this in public?”

“I’ve said worse,” Yeonjun shrugged, smirking as he looked to you, “Did you make sure to change the sheets at least?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling your cheeks burning up ten times more intensely as you leaned your forehead against your boyfriend’s arm to hide your reaction. This made Yeonjun laugh, “Alright, I’ll stop. Let’s go. I’m starving.”

With that, he shut the trunk and Soobin held the door open for you to crawl into the backseat before he followed suit. The three of you crammed into the car before it was on its way back. Yeonjun didn’t stop talking the entire time, going into heavy detail about his visit to his parent’s and how nice it was to catch up with his family. You watched as he showed you all the pictures he took with a smile on your face.

“So it’s safe to say you had fun then?” Soobin asked with an amused smile.

“Lots,” his friend replied as the cab pulled up in front of the dorms, shutting his phone off, “Not as much as you guys, though, I’m sure.”

He gave you a wink before exiting the cab, making your eyes wide as you looked to Soobin who couldn’t keep the sly grin off his face either. This was definitely only the beginning of what was sure to be a long, torturous era of jokes from your friends now that they all knew about you and Soobin. You and your boyfriend got out of the cab, paying the driver before making your way back up to the dorm. With a sigh, you accepted that this was just how it was going to be from now on, and honestly, you didn’t really mind. The jokes and teasing didn’t mean much when you were with Soobin. That’s when you decided you couldn’t have pictured yourself loving anyone else but him.

#choi soobin #tomorrow x together #txt soobin #choi soobin smut #soobin smut #txt smut #choi soobin fluff #soobin fluff #txt fluff #choi soobin imagines #soobin imagines #choi soobin scenarios #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt hard hours #📎: first love

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ahtsumu · 3 years

Text

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving.

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

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hyuukais · 2 years

Text

Hey, Lifeguard!

Juyeon loves his job. It’s the entire reason he was introduced to the attractive resident surfer, Y/n. And as a beach lifeguard he’s got to know swim safely, right?

Word Count: 1.6k

Genre: Juyeon x Reader, lifeguard! juyeon, surfer! reader, slight fluff

Warnings: mentions of blood, drowning, and the ocean, juyeon kinda almost drowns

Author: My contribution to ficscafe au pairing event ! took far longer for me to finish than it should have 💀 also thank you so much @taecup-fics for beta reading this !!

It’s a useless morning for Juyeon already. The stretch of beach he's meant to watch was almost entirely empty, with most of the people he’d seen merely runners or bikers passing by. So, it seemed, the early breeze was left to the two or three surfers out in the waves. The vacant seas, probably perfect conditions to move however they wish. Riding any good wave they can get without having to worry about running into regular beach goers. He watches them from his lifeguard tower, one specific surfer catching his eye.

Y/n floats about thirty meters out from shore, waiting. After being out here for about 30 minutes, that’s all they’ve really done. Wade and duck under when a new wave comes. That’s just a part of their routine, as Juyeon’s come to know. Having met them three years ago when he first took up this summer job, the two quickly became somewhat acquainted. Y/n was a common face amongst the waves who became a lot more known to Juyeon after the first two or three times he’d had to run out to help them. Realizing both were attending the same school in September, a stronger friendship bloomed. The two would talk often on days the beach was calm or empty, such as this one. And by the time his first summer here came to end, Juyeon found his feelings slowly growing for the surfer.

As the water once again begins to recede, he notices a flash upon their face. A smile. Y/n paddles frantically, racing against the rushing current. The water pulls up. Suddenly, it’s breaking, just seconds behind their scramble. The crash sends the board forward and Y/n pushes up. Beamed against the early morning sun, they swerve and sway amongst the white. Juyeon had seen them ride before. Each time more enraptured than the next, watching their grace atop the water. He could always tell they knew exactly what they were doing, but this time it looks like a struggle. The wave moves much faster than anticipated, soon overtaking the board. He stands in alarm as Y/n’s forced beneath the surface; instinct kicks in and he prepares to run—but not before their head pops up. Despite the wipeout, they seemed more annoyed than anything, and swam to the abandoned board. The new waves pushed them towards shore.

Sand flies behind Y/n’s feet as they’re running to a towel piled with their stuff. It sat only a few feet away from Juyeon, and it gives him a better view of their mopped hair.

“You all good?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, a bit out of focus, I guess. Though, I think my leg got caught on a shell or coral of some sort.” They twisted their hips to display a gash running across their calf. Blood pooled from it, causing Juyeon to suck in a breath.

“Hold on,” he turned to rummage through his guard bag and pulled out an antiseptic wipe and bandage. The sand collapsed under his knee as Juyeon knelt down to their leg.

“Oh, how chivalrous of you, but at least take me on a date first.”

He laughs, beginning to apply the towelette and rid their skin of red. “I’m just doing my job. I bet you would like it if I did take you out though, wouldn’t you?”

“Who says no to free food?”

“Who said anything about food?”

“Well then, what kind of date are you thinking of?”

“Oh, a lot of things, but I guess you may never know.”

Y/n says nothing in return as he stands, their leg now plastered with a rainbow band-aid. Looking at them, he notices the flush of embarrassment fallen over them.

“There, all fixed up. Now be careful going back out. Don’t wanna use up all my nice band-aids.” They chuckle, making him smile before continuing. “But, I wanted to ask if I will be seeing you at the end-of-year beach thing this Friday?”

“What?”

“The boys, and I, I guess, are throwing this hybrid beach-frat party for the end of the year. I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

“Oh? Are you actually asking me on a date?” They jokingly bring up the topic from earlier, not respecting the response he gave

“Maybe. So, will I see you there?”

Y/n’s eyes visibly widen at the implication, “Oh, um, yeah. Sounds like a date!”

“Great! I shall see you on Friday then.”

Loud shouts echo in the dark. Students laugh and mingle, chattering amongst friend groups. A huge, sweltering bonfire rose from the sand. People danced and sang around it, some chasing each other dangerously close to the flames. There were even a select few wading in the sea. A party was in full swing and Juyeon was trapped in the middle. Strangers were crowded into his side, limiting his ability to move away from the mass of party-goers. He tried his best to squeeze around the crowd. Though he made sure to look around as he did so, eyes peeled for a glimpse of Y/n somewhere at this party. Finally, he made it out of the more packed area around the fire. With fewer people loitering around, he took the chance to sit. From a farther vantage point, there was still no sign of Y/n, yet he didn’t doubt that they’d arrive shortly. Instead, he opted to turn his attention towards the night. Far from the brightest streetlights, stars twinkled clear in the sky. Some remain dimmer under the illumination of the blaze, but are nonetheless visible. Waves fall in ambient noise cruelly contrasted with the pumping bass. Enough sounds clashing that Juyeon barely hears the shift of someone making their way to his side.

“Hey, lifeguard!” Y/n’s shoulder knocks against his as they plop on the beach, scaring him a little.

“Jesus, you scared me!”

“Haha, sorry. I saw you sitting alone so I came over.”

“Ah. Yeah, the crowd’s a bit much for me; The stars are really nice, though.”

“Mm,” they hum, looking upwards. Juyeon took the chance to take in their features. Light reflects against the color in their irises. It dances across the white and black, blending with the fire's orange tinge, like an entire galaxy held within just their sight. “The moon as well.”

“Mhm.” Red flares against his ears as they turn to face him. “So, um, do you wanna go for a swim?”

“Hm? I dunno, isn’t it a bit too dark for that?”

“Well, why don’t I go out and check and you can make sure nothing bad happens to me.” He winks, turning towards the shore and stripping himself of his shirt.

“Ha! Don’t die!”

Waves rack against Juyeon’s body. The current pulls stronger than usual, but he turns around to make his point.

“Y’know, it’s not too bad!” Though, he’s silenced as another wave smacks the back of his head, eliciting a laugh from Y/n. He continues on moving further and further out, eliciting a laugh from Y/n. They watch as he tries to continue moving out. It gets harder to see, the ocean mirroring the night’s pitch black and the tide significantly rougher. Regret settled in his chest, but he was unable to make the decision to turn back. A new wave rose ahead, smacking down ferociously. Juyeon was knocked under. Swept up in the rush, his head was unable to come back up. Ice ran atop his skin. Darkness completely prevailed in an attempt to shut out the burning salt. He felt trapped, jerked, rolling along with the rush of water, unable to fight. Everything happened so suddenly, nothing had kicked in to tell him to move. To push upwards. To strain for a breath as oxygen ran thin. Shock-stunned, his mind couldn’t register the tight grip squeeze around the stomach. As air hit his face, realization set in. Juyeon had been out quite far, yet now found himself tumbled into shallower tide, Y/n’s panicked face falling close above his. Their hands held tight upon his shoulders. Lips trembling inches from his cheek.

“Oh god, I,” They scrambled away, panic now presenting itself in their voice. “Are you okay? I, just, I saw you go under and you weren’t coming back up so I panicked and went out to try and help and oh god, are you hurt, did something cut you or-”

“No, no, no, no, I’m okay! I’m okay,” he latches on their flailing hands, trying to calm them, if only a little. From here, he began to take it in. Their drenched clothes, shaking hands, wide eyes. Finally, he sits up with them but does not let go of their hands.

“Are-are you sure?”

“Yes, and Y/n, thank you for trying to save me.”

“I mean, your job requires you too but, I know you’d do the same for me.”

“Eh…”

They smack his arm, laughing in unison.

“Oh shut up! Just know you owe me now.”

“Oh do I?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then what exactly do I owe you?”

Y/n stands, sand and cloth clinging like a second skin. Their hands fall down to Juyeon’s in a silent offer to pull him up. “How about a date where you don’t almost drown? I mean, when you said something other than food, I definitely did not think you meant this.”

He grabs on, raising up, just as sandy, hands not leaving even when fully standing. “How about we start now? I do have some better ideas, I promise.”

“First,” Palms found purchase upon his cheeks, Y/n pushing up towards him. And in one swift motion, their lips landed atop his, moving softly almost cautious despite how headfirst they jumped into the position. Juyeon melted. His arms fell to their waist without much thought. Warmth spreading down, it filled each vein and hole, swelled in his heart and across his skin. As the kiss broke, their hands shakily pulled away, obviously just as flushed.

“So, uh, yeah, let’s get on to that date.”

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heyitsjay03 · 3 years

Note

Headcanons about each of the lords (+the Duke if you're writing about him) if they ever happen to adopt a little child?

THANK YOU ANON MY THE UNIVERSE BLESS YOU WITH PILLOWS THAT ARE COLD ON BOTH SIDES

okay okay okay okay this has definitely been on my mind so lets get into the thick of it

Alcina Dimitrescu

(im starting off with alcina for obvious reasons)

Alcina would be on the way to the church with the slimy moron, the demented doll, that disgusting manthing and Mother Miranda

She'd kiss her daughters goodbye and head off through the snow, quietly muttering about how cold her ankles were

while Moreau is literally up to his chin in snow but its fine

as she gets closer to the church she keeps hearing this. thing. it sounded familiar but she couldn't exactly put her finger on it.

she strays from the path to find it because it was just so familiar

as she weaves her way through the snow, her dress gets caught on something. she leans down to get her dress unstuck when she realises its this tiny basket.

like seriously. just a little woven basket in the middle of the snow. and it doesn't look like its been there for that long- there's hardly any snow on it

when she tugs at her skirts again, the basket makes the same noise she's been hearing

she stands back up to her full height, staring down at the basket with narrowed eyes

this cannot be a good idea, can it? opening a strange basket in the woods after being lured out here. it's probably some village manthing's trap.

she's about to step away when she hears the sound again- much more intense and much more clear

Alcina leans down and opens the lid of the basket

inside is this tiny thing- all soft and warm in a padding of blankets

a baby

she stands and looks around

who on earth would be so moronic as to leave their baby in the snow? it's much too cold for a baby to survive-

she sighs, getting onto her knees to pull the baby from the blanketed basket

the meeting will have to wait. it's too cold even in the church for this tiny thing.

when she finally makes it back home, she's greeted by her daughters in a swarm of buzzing flies.

as they manifest in their true forms, they're asking what- or who, rather- their mother brought for dinner

Alcina smiles and shakes her head, unwrapping the small bundle clinging to her breast

"this... is your new sibling" she announces, "they'll be staying with us from now on."

and the sisters are ecstatic. a new sibling!

Daniela especially is happy that she is no longer the youngest. she usually is the one to parade around the castle with her sibling on her shoulders, showing them the coolest hiding spots for hide-n-seek and the windows with the best views

Bela is incredibly protective. like. incredibly.

she smelt blood from across the castle and when she found her little sibling sniffling about a skinned knee earned from a game of tag with Angie, she lost her shit and almost broke the damned thing with her sickle

And Cassandra has been caught reading bedtime stories by nightlight multiple times. she tries to play it off but everyone knows that she loves- absolutely adores- her newest sibling

we all know Alcina is such a wonderful mother to the girls so adding another baby to the mix was a guaranteed success

she's so doting and careful (a little overprotective at times but she means well) as she is with her girls

as the child grows into a teen, she panics a bit because "my beautiful baby is growing into such a beautiful, talented adult" so expect a lot of late night visits when she just sits on the edge of her bed and just admires how much you've grown

Salvatore Moreau:

now this one is an easy one too if i'm 100% honest

think Moses type beat

(if you don't know, Moses was found in the riverbank in a little basket)

apparently i really like baskets

anyways

Moreau was so out of his element when he found this tiny, screaming, writhing piece of soft flesh

the first few weeks were rough

but he eventually got the hang of it (with Alcina's help of course)

he would take his child fishing every now and then- just the two of them out on a boat for a few hours

the kid would literally swim more than walk and that little fact would make Moreau so freakin proud

also this kid would be so well-versed in movie and film history it's stupid

like expect this little 4 or 5 year old babbling not about toys or snow or how many sticks they found but instead about the copyright war over the film Nosferatu and the destruction of its copies

Moreau, as the child gets older (like 11 or 12) would have just a tad of trouble trying to keep the kid out of the village

he'd wake up one day and go out onto the lake, expecting his child to be swinging their legs off the dock and watching the sun rise over the water

and when he finds that they were not, in fact, swinging their legs off the dock and watching the sun rise over the water, he p a n i c s

i mean, full blown red alert

all of the lords are summoned to help Moreau look for his missing kid, the lycans are given an article of clothing to help find the scent, Mother Miranda goes to search the village herself- the whole shebang

and when the kid is found playing with the village children, Moreau bursts into tears

needless to say, the kid isn't allowed to go to the village anymore

until they're fifty (Moreau's words, of course)

but the kid sneaks off more and more as they get older, using Alcina or Donna or Karl as an excuse to be away

and Moreau knows but he never says a word

seeing his child happy and free with the kids their age makes him happy, even if he is a tad, a tad, a tad bit nervous

Donna Beneviento:

when Donna found this child huddled up against the base of the stairs leading up to her front door, she at first thought it was a doll of hers

it was only when she actually walked outside that she realised it was this shaking, shriveled child in tattered clothes

she spent a good five minutes just staring, wondering how on earth she's supposed to react

that's when Angie jumped in and pulled at her skirt, telling her to "let the kid inside, already!"

Donna went immediately to work on some clothes- why on earth were they wearing such ragged things?! it's freezing outside!- while Angie entertained in the parlour

honestly, it didn't go well

the kid was a little bit unsettled by the floating doll that moved and spoke on its own FOR GOOD REASON

and when Donna walked back in with her measurement tape and some fabric, the kid backed themselves into a corner of the room with their gangly legs tucked into their chest

Angie sighs from the opposite side of the room, letting her little feet fidget as she gestures to the kid. "they're no fun" she pouts, "wouldn't even let me know their name"

Donna puts her materials down slowly and lifts her veil back before attempting a small smile

it takes a while but upon the offer of food, the kid finally lets Donna make them some clothes while Angie makes conversation

she works in silence, only offering small awkward smiles

Angie finally brings up the topic of where their parents are when the kid's clothes are done

when the child goes silent, Donna nods in understanding before hurrying off to make a room for them

as Angie helped tug the blankets up to the child's ears, they promised they'd be gone in the morning

Angie was the one to tell them off.

"You'll stay as long as you need, you silly goose!"

and the child did

Donna would let them tag along for meetings so long as they promised to keep quiet and help keep Angie out of trouble

most of the time, it didn't work and they both would end up in trouble but Donna let them come nonetheless

and when the other Lords question where on earth this little kid came from- all dressed in black fabric that matched Donna's dress, she just shook her head and let Angie chase them off verbally

she'd spend literal HOURS locked in that workshop making new little friends for her child and when they were old enough, she'd let them into the workshop

and when they were even older, she'd walk them through making their very first doll on their own

she'd just watch with pride as they carefully painted the freckles with a shaky hand while Angie danced around their ankles singing of how excited she was to have another friend

The Duke:

he would be setting up shop near the base of the Dimitrescu castle when he catches a kid trying to steal some his wares

he wouldn't be terribly upset, more concerned

it wasn't something shiny or expensive that they were trying to steal

it was some of the steaming-hot food he had left to cool in the wintry air

he confronted the child gently and with a warm smile

"That's cordon bleu," he says, gesturing to the steaming plate. "I can make you some if you'd like"

and as the child eats, the Duke continues tidying up his shop for any future customers

the child, through a mouthful of food, points to different items and asks their purpose, their price, their possible enhancements

the Duke answers each question with patience, happy for the company

but he doesn't just let the questions go one-way

"How about a trade?" he asks as the child asks about the strange-looking bottle of green liquid. "An answer for an answer."

the child agrees and the Duke starts to peel back layers of why the child was here looking for food

they had been orphaned by the last lycan attack, only barely making it out by fleeing into the woods

they tried to forage off of berry bushes and successfully managed to kill a pig- only for the blood to attract lycans before they could properly eat it

the Duke nods and continues busying himself with his shop, feeding the horse that pulls the wagon

the thought had hit him when he watched the child petting his horse

that horse hated everyone. including him at times.

maybe...

when he offered to take the child in, the kid nearly burst into tears and thanked him repeatedly, swearing to earn their keep

and they did, seven times over

what started off as a purely business venture morphed into something more as time went on

when the child would come back from selling smaller household items like gasoline and the occasional package of bullets, the Duke would have them climb onto the roof of the wagon and watch the sun set together with a plate of food

speaking of which, like Moreau, the Duke would raise the most cultured child

this kid would know how to prepare and identify different dishes and their ingredients just by looking at them or smelling them

and their palate would be far more sophisticated than most adults

the Duke, as the child gets older, would eventually allow them to choose destinations to set up shop- even outside of the village

wherever his child wants, the shop would go

it allows them to see the world and its earthly wares together- something the Duke had lacked in his life before the child was brought into the picture

Karl Heisenberg:

listen to me very very carefully

this man would be the most chaotic father ever to walk this earthly realm

when he finds this kid in the elevator of his factory, he's kinda standing there like 🧍 "what the hell-"

and when the kid starts spamming the button while maintaining eye contact, he kinda snaps out of it and starts chasing after them as they drop down to a different floor

it goes on for a solid twenty minutes before he finally managed to track them down in the corner of his office

and when i say this man is confused, i freaking mean it

i mean

why the HELL would some random kid be in his factory? don't they like... play with ponies or something at this age?

to be fair, this man literally has never been allowed a childhood so

obviously he starts scolding the kid ("what the hell are you doin' in here? it's dangerous and there's some really freaky shit here, kid"), dragging them to a nearby sink because "holy shit kid, you're filthy"

the kid is silent essentially the whole time, just kinda staring into his eyes

and of course Karl's gonna be like "...the fuck're you doin'?"

the kid's face is cleaned off and Karl sends them back out towards the village with a scratchy blanket he pulled out of the bottom of his desk drawer

he's working on his 'equipment' one day when he starts reaching for a wrench, keeping his focus on the body on the table

when i say this man jumps skyhigh at the kid asking a question, i mean it

he drags the kid back out, yelling about how dangerous it is and how "you shouldn't do that! you're gonna get yourself killed! go back home!"

the kid doesn't listen

it becomes a regular thing- Karl finds the kid wandering around the factory, Karl brings the kid out of danger, Karl tells them to get lost

eventually (day thirteen of this) he asks why the child keeps coming back

and he hates the answer he gets

it was something along the lines of "it's warm and there's nowhere else for me to go"

so Karl reluctantly eagerly lets them stay

it's a lot of rules at first (a kid shouldn't be allowed to just wander around a bunch of mindless cyborg killers, let alone a factory) but eventually the child learns to mind Sturm and the others

doesn't mean Karl does not have a fullblown heart attack when he walks into his workspace to find the kid tracing their finger along the center of the battery for the Soldats

after a very long talk (and some deep breathing) Karl reluctantly eagerly lets them sit against the very far wall to watch him work on the machinery- not, under any circumstances, the actual bodies

as the child blossoms into a young adult, they start to help out with certain aspects of Karl's work

exclusively machinery because Karl could not physically handle having his kid watch him get elbow-deep into a corpse

and Karl is so freaking proud of it

when the Soldat is kicked to life, he's got his kid in his arms and cackling like the proud dad he is

yeah. paternal Heisenberg>>>

#anon ask #anon #karl heisenberg #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #re8 #resident evil 8 #the duke #resident evil village #resident evil #resident evil village fanfiction #gender neutral #headcanons #re8 headcanons #resident evil headcanons #resident evil village headcanons #yeah i had a lot of fun with this #thank you again anon

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frank-a-mori-son · 3 years

Text

“Extremely detailed character sheet template”

Character Chart

Character’s full name: Frank Daniel Morrison Reason or meaning of name: The name Frank is after his Grandmother, Francesca and Daniel is his Fathers name. Character’s nickname: Killer, Frankie, “Hey asshole!” Reason for nickname: First for obvious reasons, second also, last one is just heard enough for it to be. Birth date: February 14th 1977

Physical appearance

Age: 19 years old How old does he/she appear: he could be confused for someone down to the age of 16. Weight: 65 kg/ 130 pounds Height: 173 cm/ 5′8′’ Body build: Lithe but athletic Shape of face: Heart Shaped Eye color: Brown Glasses or contacts: None, but he’ll need it once older Skin tone: White with neutral undertone Distinguishing marks: 2 visible facial scars, beautymark under right eye Predominant features: Large neck tattoo Hair color: Brown Type of hair: Straight Hairstyle: Currently an undercut Voice: Tenor voice Overall attractiveness: He’s got rouge-ish charms, so pretty attractive Physical disabilities: Hypermobility in his joints, unknown condition. Usual fashion of dress: Pretty casual, borderlining grunge and punk rock Favorite outfit: band tshirt, faux leather jacket and jeans Jewelry or accessories: He’d love piercings but has none, always wears some type of gloves.

Personality

Good personality traits: Resillient, loyal, brave and charismatic Bad personality traits: Bad temper, snarky, self critical Mood character is most often in: Agitated Sense of humor: Dick jokes and slap stick Character’s greatest joy in life: Making decisions for himself Character’s greatest fear: Becoming his parents Why? Due to how they ruined not only their lives, but that of an innocent child too. What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? At this point that has already happened, making a grave mistake with unthinkable consequences... Character is most at ease when: With people he trusts/cares about or if completely unnoticed Most ill at ease when: Overwhelmed by attention from strangers, feeling judged by peers. Enraged when: Made fun of, harrassed, hit or when someone he cares about is hurt. Depressed or sad when: Thinking of past mistakes, regrets and worrying about present/future. Priorities: Himself and those closest to him Life philosophy: Enjoy while it lasts, they or you won’t be around forever. If granted one wish, it would be: Freedom for those he cares for. Why? They do not deserve to be trapped in this realm, but he feels he does. Character’s soft spot: Quentin, Susie and dogs. Is this soft spot obvious to others? Quentin is very obvious to most Greatest strength: His will to keep fighting Greatest vulnerability or weakness: His own mental health and trauma Biggest regret: Dragging his Legion down with him Minor regret: Failing at ending himself Biggest accomplishment: Accepting his own sexuality Minor accomplishment: When he made it onto the basket ball team Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: The one time he got himself roofied on accident Why? he was trying to impress some older kids and failed badly. Character’s darkest secret: The fact he killed someone. Does anyone else know? His Legion and Quentin knows

Goals

Drives and motivations: Motivated to keep himself and those he cares for safe in the Entity realm. Immediate goals: Spend as much time with his boyfriend as possible, get many smooches Long term goals: Somehow, find a way out of the Entity realm. How the character plans to accomplish these goals: He has no idea, but he knows he can count on Quen to help How other characters will be affected: Hopefully, it’ll be a positive effect

Past

Hometown: Calgary, Canada Type of childhood: Rough and unstable Pets: None First memory: Being locked in his bedroom, the stench of sweetened smoke coming through the door crack and loud angry shouting from below. Most important childhood memory: His Grandma coming by on Christmas morning with a gift for him Why: because it was the first time he got a gift for xmas, it was sadly also the last time he saw his Grandma. Childhood hero: He really looked up to one specific foster dad, a good man. Dream job: Veterinarian Education: High School Dropout Religion: Christian but not practising Finances: Shaky at best, below poverty line.

Present

Current location: Ormond, Canada Currently living with: Foster dad, Clive Anderson Pets: None unless you count house flies Religion: Agnostic Occupation: Unemployed Finances: None existing.

Family

Mother: Lorraine Beatrice Morrison Relationship with her: Strained, disconnected Father: Daniel Patrick Montgomery Relationship with him: Tense and disconnected Siblings: Step-sister, Step-brother (both Fathers side) Relationship with them: None, he doesn’t know about them. Spouse: Quentin is his boyfriend Relationship with him/her: Good! very good, they’re very much in love. Children: None Relationship with them: Nothing Other important family members: Grandparents (Mothers side) who are still alive and miss their grandson.

Favorites

Color: Red, black and green Least favorite color: Pink and yellow Music: Death metal, Rock, Punk, retro Food: He’ll eat pretty much anything, has a huge sweet tooth Literature: He’s not a fast reader, so he doesn’t read. Form of entertainment: out with friends, listening to music, exploring and sports. Expressions: “Well, fuck” and “heck!” Mode of transportation: Other people’s cars, otherwise, his own two feet. Most prized possession: His faux leather jacket, as it’s bought with money he earned honestly.

Habits

Hobbies: Basket ball, art and climbing Plays a musical instrument? No, but he would’ve loved to learn Plays a sport? Basket ball! How he/she would spend a rainy day: Probably at a friends house or at their usual hangouts. Spending habits: he spends very little money as he rarely has some, but he does shop lift often. Smokes: Yes Drinks: Oh yes Other drugs: Usually just weed, though he has tried a few other things once or twice. What does he/she do too much of? Getting in trouble, drinking and smoking What does he/she do too little of? Eating, sleeping, bathing, just generally taking care of himself. Extremely skilled at: Most physical activities Extremely unskilled at: Reading, writing, maths.... Nervous tics: Foot bouncing, pacing, lip biting Usual body posture: Looks relaxed, but shoulders tensed. Mannerisms: Talks with his hands a lot Peculiarities: He’s a basic bitch in secret, he likes the big ass, sugary, cllorful and extra frappes but he’ll get them in secret like they’re illegal.

Traits

Optimist or pessimist? Pessimist, or realist as he would say. Introvert or extrovert? Ambivert! He can go both ways, depends on situation. Daredevil or cautious? Daredevil! Logical or emotional? A little bit of both, though most often ruled by emotion. Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? More like Disorderly neat, he doesn’t have enough stuff to make a mess and though he doesn’t enjoy it, he’s often the one to do dishes and laundry at home. Prefers working or relaxing? He really likes relaxing, but if he’d like working if he got a job he enjoyed Confident or unsure of himself/herself? He’s faux confidence most of the time. Animal lover? Yes. Very, very much so. Especially dogs.

Self-perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: he considers himself damaged, unworthy and incabable of love. One word the character would use to describe self: Survivor One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: Out loud he’d call himself “a badass free spirit” What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? His ability to get up even when knocked down. What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? His insecurity What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? He thinks he’s got a pretty nice bod, all things considered. What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? His scarred hand, his big ears and his slight buck teeth. How does the character think others perceive him/her: As a bad boy, rebel, problem child and misfit. What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: Many things, though he really like to be taller

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: They just want something from him and they’ll leave once they’ve gotten what they wanted. Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Often until he trusts them, then he’ll start opening up. Person character most hates: Clive, his parents, Ghostface Best friend(s): Julie, Joey and Susie Love interest(s): Quentin Smith, but Steve is handsome too. Person character goes to for advice: Depending on what it is, Quentin or Susie Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Susie is like a little sister to him Person character feels shy or awkward around: Jeff, it’s all very complicated Person character openly admires: Jeff, again, complicated Person character secretly admires: David. He’ll never say why. Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Nobody. After story starts: His Legion and, the light of his life, Quentin.

Snatched from here

#Extremely detailed character sheet template #Frank Morrison #The Legion #DBD #dead by daylight #DBD hc #The legion hc #Frank hc #personal headcanon #this took FOREVER

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saedii-gilwraeth-simp · 2 years

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Squad 312 2.0 - More Thoughts

I have more thoughts about the kiddos

Lae Gilwraeth-Jones is the most bisexual person to ever bisexual. But she’s hot enough that she can and will attract anyone she happens to want and took lessons on breaking up with people from her aunt Scarlett so everyone she has broken up with is still a teensy bit hung up on her

She also has a weirdly passionate but kinda cute relationship with the small ship her parents got her for her 18th birthday (yes the Gilwraeths-Jones’ are rich enough to afford a ship for their child - thanks Zila Madran)

She gets Pulled to a spitfire of a Betraskan woman and they’re a very cute couple.

Rory Jones-De Seel is just about the greatest Frennet player of all time and has competed in professional leagues and won. She met her current partner by kicking his ass at strip Frennet at a party one night. She’s good enough that she got banned from playing with her siblings when she took all of their allowances at 12. The only person to ever beat her is Scarlett but that’s because Scarlett is the type of mother who knows her children so well they physically cannot pull off lying of bluffing to her.

Rory cannot do jigsaw puzzles. Out of all of her siblings, she has the worst dexterity (mood) and she also just doesn’t see the point so she will avoid doing them with a passion. When her space station goes on lockdown bc of a plague outbreak, her boyfriend buys one for them to do together and she flat out refuses

When Cathy was a baby, Fin spent a lot of time with her (and her sister) in zero g and as such, Cathy fucking loves space walks and they are one of the things she misses when she is living on Sempiternity. But her boyfriend (y’know... the Chellerian that F+S are so happy about) lets her use his pod to go out for space walks.

Cathy enjoys flying until she was 17 and in the passenger seat of Lae’s ship (who has Cat Brannock’s talent but flies like she doesn’t fear meeting the Maker) and after that Cathy didn’t get on a proper spaceship for nearly a month. She still gets a little nauseous looking at them and she does not ride with Lae anymore

Dariel once disappeared for an entire year. Like, off the grid, no comms, nothing. The only person who knew where he was was Zila but that’s because she can keep a secret. He came back after that year with a fully formed Den on Trask and a boyfriend (a really nice Syldrathi guy who gets the Squad’s approval really quick)

Dariel can speed read and will just devour multiple “books” a day on his uniglass. He has a guilty pleasure relationship with trashy romance books and him and his mum have a book club about the texts once a month.

Zila knows everything about all of her family and is the best secret keeper you will ever meet. She is such a vault that after her Legion service, she gets offered a role as an intelligence officer with the GIA. Excellent judge of character she is, she turns it down, instead choosing to teach at the Academy when one of her instructors retires.

The only person Zila can’t keep a secret from is her twin Steph, who she basically has telepathy with. Basically, their siblings have to be aware that to tell one a secret is to also tell the other. Luckily, Steph can keep secrets just as well

The De Karran De Seel’s once joked that Zila was the truest Betraskan in the family bc she’s the only polyamorous one (they did not make the joke a second time when Fin rips them a new one, don’t you worry.) She has a boyfriend (a fellow Betraskan Gearhead in the year above her at the Academy) and a girlfriend (a Terran Tank who was in her and Lae’s Legion Squad.) This throuple makes the best Betraskan food and everyone likes it when they come to family reunions

Steph is the most Waywalker-y of all her siblings and can manipulate emotions, share memories telepathically and can always, always, tell when people are lying. She is absolutely impossible to surprise.

She once seduced a priest (I remembered that nuns exist in canon, so priests must as well) just for fun and to see whether she could. More impressively, she once seduced her way into the pants of a GIA agent. Do you know how difficult it is to seduce a GIA agent? Because Steph Jones-De Seel does.

Her siblings mooch off her and use her to get into super exclusive clubs bc chances are she knows someone in there.

She only kinda chills out when she is Pulled to a Warbreed adept when she’s in her mid 20′s but her and her wife have an intense enough relationship that she’s never unsatisfied having left the party life behind.

Rory, Dariel and Steph are all really close to Scar but Cathy and Zila are closer to Fin

Evaa is the type of girl who many have mistaken as gentle or fragile but they forget she is the right height to aim low. Has the highest marks in her combat classes at the Academy and you can’t forget that she has her mum (who knows kung fu), dad, Aunt Saedii and Uncle Tyler training her in all the martial arts they know. Which is a lot of styles of martial art.

Evaa looks exactly like Auri except her eyes are purple like Kal. This is the only physical trait she shares with Kal, but her personality is a lot more like him than Auri. Evaa is an extraordinarily calm person and is excellent to have around in a crisis. That has also come from being the youngest of the Squad and being able to learn from her cousin (and cousin’s cousins)

Evaa is consistently single, but that’s more out of disinterest for dating than a lack of options. Plus, all of the people she spends the most time with are Tanks that have a less than impressive amount of braincells

Anyway, that’s me done for today. If y’all have thoughts, drop them in the comments/reblog section

tagging @skepticalcatfrog and @iamheretodomythingrip who seemed to enjoy the last one of these posts

#aurora cycle #tyler jones #saedii gilwraeth #fin de karran de seel #scarlett jones #auri o'malley #kal gilwraeth #aurora rising #aurora burning #auroras end #squad 312 2.0

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Let Chaos Reign

Chapter 4- People Of Earth

Summary: On the run from the Avengers in your search for a way off Earth, you meet some mortal annoyances along the way until a certain blue eyed human is able to find you wandering in the forest. But can he convince you to come back to the Avenger’s base with him?

Warning: action, blood, fighting, Bucky doing his best, slight fluff

Masterlist - Chapter 3

So Bucky had been thinking.

If finding Y/N was only as easy as looking at her red dot on the tracker, then damn, he could just teleport to her no problem. Unfortunately the worlds technology hasn't yet reached Star Trek technological advancements, nor can he teleport. It's been a long hectic couple days trying to find her which is starting to drive Bucky up a wall, how is she so sneaky? He can literally see her location at all times but yet she's evaded him at all costs without even trying, she doesn't even know a tracker is attached to the inside of her jacket.

And the team, they haven't been much help at all. They've decided to listen to Fury's orders and stay clear of Bucky's mission when it comes to finding the escaped demigod and bringing her back to the Avenger's base. A lot of help they are. At least Steve checks in for updates when he's not getting pulled into a training session by any particular person of the hour. Maybe the tracker doesn't even work. Maybe?

No, it's Stark made. It has to work, this problem is simply Y/N.

Bucky pulls off to the side of the road near a little park in some rural town way outside of New York City where he knows Y/N went through not even twenty-three hours ago. He opens his door, slamming it shut in frustration before taking in a big breath of fresh air. The day is slightly overcast yet he doesn't appear to mind it at all, having the hot sun blaring down upon him never feels very pleasant. Then again, maybe he's just more familiar with colder temperatures.

A crow flies down across the vacant road from him, it ignores Bucky as it jumps onto the road in order to pick at some road kill of a dead flattened squirrel. Bucky reverts his gaze when his eyes soon land upon a bent wooden telephone line further up the road where it looks like a car ran right into it. Wanting to stretch his legs for a bit and feed into his curiosity, Bucky jogs across the street and over to the area of flattened grass and wood splinters.

He observes the wreckage. Its just as he saw from farther away, a splintered post with pieces of wood spread across the grass from the impact. A couple glass chunks shimmer in the few rays of sunlight peeking out from behind the clouds. There are tire marks imprinted into the mudded ground leading up to the post, he crouches down to get a better look at the source of impact.

A dog barks in the background, its legs getting closer and closer to Bucky until a wet slobbery nose finds its way onto Bucky's right arm. The face of a golden retriever greets him as a young man races to the spot looking very embarrassed.

"Trout! Get away from the man, be nice! Be nice! He might not want your kisses!" He shouts desperately, "Trout!"

Bucky pets the friendly dog while his owner runs to their spot before standing to greet him, "He's fine, don't worry about it."

The red faced man smiles shyly, "I'm so sorry. He gets so excited whenever there's a stranger around I just don't understand it."

Bucky shakes his head, "It's fine, really. I like dogs."

The dog sniffs around Bucky's boots before sniffing the skid marks, "Oh I'm Gio by the way, sorry about my boy Trout. I love him but he can be a lot."

"Hi." Mutters Bucky, "I'm James."

"Nice to meet you..oh..Trout drop that piece of wood you nucklehead it's sharp!" The dog stops before dropping the wood, it starts sniffing around the grounds again. Gio looks at Bucky, "It's too bad what happened here, just last night too. Thank God nobody died! It's just unfortunate."

"What happened?"

Gio nods towards the splintered pole, "Some nutcase ran out in front of the guy driving and then bam, he just swerved to miss 'em and ended up totaling his car and getting a bruised collar bone. He's my neighbor. Poor guy, never got a proper look at the idiot who did it either so there's no one to blame."

Bucky's brows furrow, "No one saw who ran in front of your friend?"

Gio stops a second to think harder on the matter, "Hmm...okay wait a second Nick did say this person moved like faster then a frickin' deer. They were here one second and gone the next, right into the woods."

"Where is Nick now? Is he okay?"

"Oh yeah he's fine, just chillin' in his hospital bed for another day until his headache goes away. Guess he also got a concussion or something, some shit luck I tell you."

"Thank you, I gotta go." Says Bucky quickly before turning on his heels and jogging across the street. Leaving a very confused Gio to go run after his dog again.

There's a hefty possibility that Y/N had absolutely nothing to do with anything surrounding that crash, however, Bucky has to know. He pulls into the Westonville Hospital before Winter Soldier sneaking his way inside and now here he stands on the other side of the door to Nick's room, 213. He knocks, a man answers and says to come in, Bucky does. Shutting the door right after.

The man lays upright in bed, sipping on a juice box as he quickly locks eyes with Bucky. "Hello." Says the twenty-something year old, "You a nurse?"

Bucky could have laughed, "No. Just here to ask you a couple questions."

"Listen man, the police already got my statement. I wasn't drunk...nor on anything at the time. I don't do that shit while driving, I wanna stay alive okay?"

"Right." Mutters Bucky, "I just want to know if you saw this person who caused you to wreck."

He eyes Bucky suspiciously, "Dude are you with the FBI or something? Cause the police think I just saw a deer but I'm telling you it wasn't a deer okay?"

"What was it then?"

The man looks from the door then back to Bucky, he makes a waving motion for him to walk closer, "Dude, this was some lady. She was so fast I never even saw her till she was almost road kill...then....and you're not gonna believe me....then I swear to God, she pushed my car." Whispers Nick before nodding, "Dude that's how I went into the pole, she pushed me and I lost control and BAM! Right into a pole. Asshole, my damn car is fucked."

"Do you know what she looked like?" Nick then proceeds to give an accurate description of you and all your beautiful chaotic-ness, who's apparently still not very fond of human transportation vehicles.

Bucky then glances from Nick still rambling about you and what a dickhead you must be, to the window showing the woods and half a parking lot. He can't let you escape him again, you might end up killing someone next time and that absolutely cannot happen.

——

Stupid men! Stupid humans getting in your way! These people are irritating and bothersome, all you wanted was to search for the Ancient One in peace. All you want is to find her and get the fuck off this planet so you can confront your brother and...

"Miss are you okay?" A scratchy voice speaks to you from the car to your left, you turn your head to meet the face of a young woman looking at you with kind eyes, "You need a ride?"

"No."

She gives you a look, your appearance is admittedly more roughed up then you would like, but it's been a rough couple days since your last shower and you're technically on the run from Earth's Avengers. "You sure? I got room in here, and a nice place to stay with food and a shower too. Just tryna be nice to someone who looks like they could use a hand." You look like you could use a hand to the face.

Your brows furrow, she reeks of too much perfume and something else, "What kind of food?" You technically do need a ride and this may be your only chance to get one somewhere away from this place in the middle of nowhere. Also a place to stay for the night would be admittedly very nice considering you've been sleeping in trees and behind people's sheds.

Her eyes light up in surprise, "Anything you want. Just tell me and I got you."

"Good."

She unlocks the door, "Come on in. I'm Ava by the way. Nice to meet you, now I hope you don't mind but back at my place I got a couple roommates. But don't worry they come and go, they won't bother you I promise." You don't believe her, but hop in next to her anyways. She looks like she could use a better friend then whoever she stays with. You can smell at least one of them on her.

She gives you a strange faltering smile when you take notice of a nose piercing; she wears a jacket and jeans, although an odd tattoo showing off some line of numbers keeps itself on her right wrist hidden by some colorful bracelets. All in all she is an attractive woman. But her car is no better then her person, the scent is vulgar and repulsive but you're admittedly too hungry to care. Too much perfume.

The ride to her apartment complex takes about twenty minutes, in this time Ava has explained to you how her favorite food, chicken alfredo, is made. She also won't stop looking at the long mirror above your heads, it's like something keeps drawing her attention but there's nothing behind the car of any important significance. Maybe that's just a human thing?

Eventually she takes a couple turns that passes more street stores, houses, and apartments until she drives near a gas station and takes a left for an apartment building of reddish brick that looks like a shitty castle.

It's nestled within the town, with its rear to a small park, oddly enough she claims you can see the city from the roof. Getting out, you watch as she shuts her door before jogging to the back and pulling out a couple groceries. "Oh hey there, can you get the waters, there's like three packs here but we can come back for them later."

You quickly walk to the back of her trunk and lean down to pick up all three waters with ease, her eyes go big, "Oh wow..okay yeah, that'll work." She shuts the back, you begin following her across the parking lot. Stomach growling.

Her wary eyes fall onto you, "So uh, you lift?"

"No."

She nods, "Cool cool, uh you from around here?"

"No."

"Okay cool, I am, well not originally...I was actually from Arizona but then I ran away when I was thirteen because my home life was pretty shit and then I met my boyfriend Jed and he took me here and..." Her face shifts into a frown before it regains it's half smile once more, "Doesn't matter now I guess, it's not fantastic here...with him. But I got a place to stay and a roof over my head and he gets me anything I want really. So it's not so bad."

You can't help but feel somethings not right with her, and this bothers you deeply, "So uh, how's your lover? Jed."

She frowns, "Oh he's nice....I wouldn't say lover I guess....and he's kinda older then me but it's fine really. You might see him, he comes and goes yunno?"

She opens the glass doors for you to walk inside, the area smells of stale air and smoke, "How old?"

She purses her lips together, "Not that much older, I'm seventeen he's just a little above that. But it works for us, he's got me a nice place and he loves me so that's nice." Her smile falters, you can tell something isn't right here but can't quite place your finger on it.

Ava keeps silent for the rest of the trek upstairs until she leads you down a long hallway to a tall white door reading A8 on the front, a small glass porthole in the center. She gets her keys out, "Try not to touch anything, he doesn't like messes okay? Just uh, follow me okay, he might have a friend here."

"Alright then. Proceed." She gives a little nod before unlocking the door and opening it up to reveal a large apartment as clean as a button, with the exception of a few tall thin glass bottles empty of all liquid laying on the short glass table in the lounging area. A large screen is on showcasing something of little importance to you.

Ava sets the groceries on the kitchen counter before racing over to the short table, "Oh sorry about the mess, please just set the waters down by the trash can. Give me a moment." You look down to find a tall thin metal can, doesn't look like a trash can but you set the three cases of water down anyways.

Standing in the middle of her kitchen she hastily rushes in to drop the bottles in the trash can, "I'll put the stuff away, do you-do you want anything?"

"Whatever gives me enough strength to continue on my journey."

"Right. Yeah okay uh we got," She opens up the fridge, "we got some burritos from last night. And fruit....a lot of beer....you don't want that. Here, I'll heat this up for you okay." She shuts the fridge and takes the assumed burrito to another square object hanging from the wall. She pops open the door before placing the food inside and shutting it.

She turns it on. "What is that device?" You ask a sit makes a strange vacuum sound.

She raises a brow, "A microwave." Voice on the tinge of humor, the microwave beeps and she soon opens it back up. "Here ya go! It's a day old so don't worry, still fresh."

She hands it to you, you look down at the warm thing wrapped in a brown paper, "Appreciated."

Your meal is well received and admittedly pretty delicious, once finished do you walk over to the giant glass window to have a look outside, you can see the tops of many trees and farther away across the greenery lays a city just as Ava had spoken of.

Maybe the Ancient One resides somewhere in there, hidden, but within the ginormous labyrinth of steel, cement, and glass. Farther down the hallway a door swings open and the pattering of bare feet is heard walking down the tiled floors of shiny white. This place really is clean, like a small palace for the mortals.

The man stops at the end of the halls archway though you don't care to look at him, "Ava who's the bitch over there? I thought Jed wasn't buying anymore for a few weeks." Whispers the man to the kind woman, Ava, who stands frozen in the kitchen.

You immediately don't like him, but stay your ground to listen, she whispers back, "She's a friend. Needed somewhere to stay for a day or so."

He walks over to her, "He's gonna be pissed when he sees your new friend here. If she's not here to sell, get her the fuck out before your man comes home tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yeah tonight. His trip to Vegas ended yesterday, he's on his way. Don't you know how time works?"

She shakes her head, "Guess I just forgot is all. I'll make sure she's gone."

He looks over to give you a proper once over, you can hear his heartbeat quicken, "Not too bad either. Nice ass, she looks good..real good, it's a damn shame she's not here to stay for the fun. I wouldn't mind a couple of rounds with her myself."

Your fists clench, you've had enough of this jabbering animal, "Oh really?" You turn around to watch as his eyes go wide when they take notice of the golden color of your irises, "What filth you spill off of that thing you call a mouth is repulsive and disgusting. Who are you may I ask?"

He quickly retains his swagger once again, he takes a step forward, "I'm Jed's right hand man, Antonio, I run this bitch when he's away and I don't like how you're talking to me."

"I'm not entirely fond of your existence. Leave us, I want to speak with Ava alone."

Antonio's face shows bewildered rejection, "Excuse me?"

You take a threatening step forward, "I don't believe my tongue slipped. You heard me correctly. Leave." He keeps still as a statue, mind still processing your words. Clearly no on had ever bothered to talk to him like this before.

He blinks and points a hand up for emphasis, "No whore tells me what I can and can't do in my own goddamn house!" He immediately rushes past Ava to grab something under the kitchen bar.

She gasps in surprise, "Tony no! Don't do this! Put it away she didn't mean it, she doesn't I swear! I swear!"

He walks back around to shove her into the couch, "Shut up." He throws up his arm to reveal a black hand held object that could be nothing else but a small gun, you stare at it in curiosity, expression interested and unfazed.

He doesn't like that, he tilts the gun at you angrily, "What's up now huh! You ain't telling me to do nothin' I run this fucker up in here! So you're gonna fuckin' listen to me you whore! I'll fu.." Antonio's body stiffens, his eyes go wide as saucers when he realizes he's not able to move, not able to speak.

Hands kept to your sides, you curl the fingers of your right hand to bloodbend this imbecile. Moving this hand to the right, Antonio's grasp is forced open and the gun clatters to the floor. "What are you doing!?" Shouts Ava fearfully.

"Teaching a dog a lesson."

Curling the fingers of your other hand, Antonio is forced to walk in staggered painful steps across the carpet at your will, Ava gasps in fright as she watches your little horror show. "Men don't treat their people like animals, you want to act like a beast. Then you'll be one."

His throat makes a dry crackly sound as he tries to scream when you move your hands to orchestrate a new action, Antonio is forced to his knees where he crawls like a dog across the clean carpet. A frightened man he becomes, his movements choppy and forced, body awkward and stiff as he moves on all fours. Proud of your work, you walk over to the man and crouch down to reach his level, "You see, the universe has created us all for a reason. Whether we are powerful or not, that control we have can be taken as it can be given."

He mumbles a reply that cannot be heard properly even by your hears.

"You know of your power?" He shakes his head as you smirk, "Your strength is built from fear and hatred. That is no way to find your place in the world, that is how tyrants lead."

Drool runs down the side of his mouth as his eyes look up to you pleadingly. "Stop it! You're hurting him!" Shouts Ava.

You give Antonio a pitiful look, "I know. And this creature deserves more then I'm willing him to do, but because you've gained my respect. I will release him." Standing, you flick your hands and Antonio is released from your trance. He coughs and sputters in a curled up heap on the floor like a beaten old dog.

"Pathetic." You mutter dryly as Ava breaths heavily from the couch.

"Wh-what are you?" She whispers, "Are you a witch?"

"No. But I am someone who is done with this place." You give her a respectful tilt of your head, "Ava, I thank you for your hospitality, but I must leave." She watches as you take one last look around the room before walking towards the closed door. Turning the handle you're prepared to exit when she screams. "Antonio no!"

Boom!

The bullet stops three inches from the back of your head, whipping around to face your assailant, he fires two more rounds as you halt the bullets in their tracks. He registers what's happening and quickly chooses to pull the trigger again. As a plethora of steel flies your way, you raise an open palm that causes them all to freeze in place.

The room goes deathly silent before Antonio takes a single step and you've sent all five bullets straight through his vulnerable flesh. Blood flies across the walls as he slumps to the ground while Ava gasps in terror, too afraid to make a sound.

You frown, gaze set on Ava, "I'm sorry I had to do this in front of you. He gave me no choice, but I think this loss will not be mourned over." Your golden eyes flicker back down at the bullet ridden body, "A quick death is more then he deserved. So long Ava, be brave."

The door opens.

"What the fuck happened here?!" Speaks a man most certainly in his late thirties as he sets something on the ground, "Who's this bitch?"

Ava's expression shifts to fear as you let out a tired sigh, eyes set to the man you know as Jed, "An old friend." ——

Crouched down by a river, you rub off flecks of blood that dissipate into the murky water like forgotten memories. You just wanted to eat and rest a while as you gathered your thoughts. But here you are, you've killed two humans and have damaged a couple busses in the process of it all. Not to mention that one car the other night...at least that man kept his life.

This realm is complicated and busy, there's not enough wilderness to hide in and there are certainly too many prying eyes that can catch you with their small square devices easier then you'd like. Thankfully Ava had not seen your rampage on the internet so she wasn't able to instantly recognize you. Then again you weren't wearing your armor.

However your eye color certainly doesn't aid you in finding a way into the city close by, that's still too far for your liking, people will undoubtedly stare. At this point you don't trust a single soul, and anyone close enough to see your face would most likely report you to the authorities in an instant.

Your goal has been thwarted one too many times and that shit does not fly with you one bit. Find the Ancient One, have her open a portal to your realm, and from there kick your brothers ass. It's all very simple, well at least it should be. Stupid Midgardians.

Hrrrrr Hrrrrrrrr! A loud horn blares from within the woods to your back right, twisting around and standing at attention, your fists emit flame when a huge lumbering mass of metal rolls through the trees practically making the ground shake.

It sounds like a tiny thunderstorm, you've never seen anything like it except for when you where in Norway but that vehicle was significantly smaller and less loud. "God this place is insufferable." You mutter, annoyed by the less then peaceful atmosphere of Midgard.

So far you've evaded the watchful eyes of the Avengers for the past three days and have gotten nowhere on your quest for vengeance. And now this thing just adds to your stirred up pot of frustration.

Taking a breath, you decide to wander through the trees until you've found the tracks where that metal vessel was drawing its power from, oddly enough the steel bars attached to plates of wood does not give off energy. Strange.

Figuring it must be the vehicle itself, you sway your mind from pondering the idea as your thoughts drift to that of home and the necklace hidden around your neck. This valued object was your dying mother's, a heirloom of your linage, and a damn powerful piece of jewelry.

But your brother and his wicked ideas, he wanted to use it for his grant thoughts of tyranny and power over the nine realms. A fool, no one could ever claim such a feat, no place needs rules like such from one being calling all the shots. It's madness.

It's insane.

Shaking your head, you keep following down the tracks as you listen to the sounds of cars in the far off distance. Birds chirp and flutter by while minding their business in the forest, although you could have sworn you heard a soft thud in the dirt behind you. A shuffle of stones maybe?

A deer perhaps? No, this is no deer; halting your trek to the city, you place your hands upon your hips before slowly turning around, "I'd expected as much. You are a clever man after all....Bucky."

The dark haired man greets you with a shy grin as he stands there off to the side of the tracks, dressed in casual attire like that when you saw him in Norway. He seems genuinely happy to see you, "I wish I could stay away." Replies Bucky in a playful tone, "But you've killed two human traffickers and I gotta make sure you don't hurt anyone else. Even if they deserve it."

You scoff, "I could end your life right now if I wanted to, kill all your friends next and then burn this world to ash and dust trying to get what I want. No matter the cowards I've killed."

He shrugs, "That sounds harsh. I'd rather you didn't actually, kinda like being alive." He's such a smartass in the best way, yet you hold back a smile to keep your noble aurora about you.

"Fair point I suppose. This Earth may be greatly flawed, but I have no qualms with the people here but that of my own business."

"Right. Your own business, finding the Ancient One and dealing with your brother and all that stuff." Nods Bucky, "Y/N, you know we could help you..."

"I don't need it! I'll find my way through this planet myself. Alone!" You shout, causing the trees to creak and moan from a surplus of wind that blows Bucky's hair about. He knows what you're capable of, but he has to try and persuade you anyways.

He looks almost apprehensive to approach you, "Y/N please. I know we all got off on the wrong foot, probably by a lot. But my friends are good people, we want to help you find what you're looking for. I promise you that." Says Bucky with a pleading look, "No lies. I promise."

You give him a conflicted glare as you think of your options; he found you somehow, he legitimately wants to help, and you desperately need a way off this damn planet. Maybe they do know a way, maybe they'll actually be able to help you, maybe Bucky is truthful?

He goes to take a step forward when you throw a hand out, "Stop." He keeps still as you take a breath, "Bucky, you give me your word?"

"I do."

"Promise!"

Raising his hands up, he gives you a sincere look, "I promise Y/N."

Taking a long moment to think over his words, you finally nod, "Good." He watches as you walk across the tracks until you're within a couple feet of him, he swallows, unsure if you might have just lied and are about to set him on fire. Instead he's relieved when you gift him a tight lipped grin, "Fine then, let us leave this place."

"Awesome.....yeah, okay good...well I'm parked back that way. We can just walk on the tracks instead of through the woods. Easier that way." He takes a couple steps back the way you came, when you don't move does Bucky stop and reach a hand out for you to take, "I'm not going to hurt you Y/N, I promised I'd help you remember?"

"I haven't forgotten." You quickly answer him.

"Good because I intend to keep it." He smiles softly, beautiful stormy blues focused all on you with a gloved hand ready for you to take.

You shake your head before walking past him, "Fine but I'm not shaking your hand."

Bucky chuckles to himself as he watches you practically swagger down the side of the tracks away from him. Quickly does he break from his staring trance to jog over to your side. The two of you walk for a little ways in complete silence until you glance over at him when your curiosity gets the better of you. There's just one tiny question you still need answered, "Well, how'd you find me?"

Bucky holds back a grin, "Your pocket." He points down towards your jackets pocket. Giving him a look of confusion, you reach down and feel inside for whatever he's on about, suddenly your fingers touch something round and metal attached to the inside wall.

Taking a hold of this odd device, you tug it loose before bringing your hand into the open, "What the hell is this?" You ask.

Bucky reaches out to take the object from you, he holds it up, "This. Is a tracker."

"That thing? It's like a thick coin, how does it manage to do such a feat?"

"Technology, radio waves. It's not my design, but with it I was able to follow where you went. Granted you're more elusive with your traveling then I'd first realized, but it did it's job...and now I'm here."

"Yes, now you're here. Maybe you really are braver then I first thought, or just a plain fool. I could have stuck to my word and killed you." You snap your fingers, "Just like that."

He chuckles, "I had a feeling you wouldn't."

"Oh really? What made you assume I would be merciful?"

"When we met for the first time in Norway, and later at the base. You didn't hurt me, well I guess I should say you didn't try and squeeze the life out of me. Or set me on fire.."

"I set your jacket on fire." You point out as he smiles.

"You did. I liked that jacket too." Muses Bucky, "Still, you let me live both times. Even let my friends live too, Y/N, I don't think you're so bad at all."

You hum in thought, "Your words are kind and humbling. But I do not feel worthy of such claims." He has no idea who you are, what you've done. So much he doesn't know.

Bucky frowns, "Why not?"

"I have done nothing but add more chaos to this realm with my existence here, I have been betrayed and for that I was filled with rage taken out on innocent people living their lives. I want to be worthy of what you say I am, but I am not." His heart hurts at your valiantly honest words, if only he could understand completely.

"Believe me Y/N, you aren't nearly as bad as you think you are. There's been way worse people throughout history here before you ever showed up."

"I believe your words though my personal occurrence's chance to lessen these people compared to what I have done centuries ago. Do not misinterpret all of what I speak, I understand there are always beings harming others for their own sick pleasure, however I did not frighten for enjoyment. Quite the opposite."

He could just about give up his metal arm forever just to know what the hell you're talking about. What kind of life did you live before all of this? Bucky soon takes out a small square device with his one gloved hand, "I trust your word on that. And hopefully we're able to help you...I just gotta get us a ride out of here first." He turns on a black screen and slides his finger across to unlock, "I have where I parked pin pointed via another tracker."

"You don't recall where you've come from?"

"Yeah, I mean no..no, I do remember the direction I came in, it's just I was running so fast to find you I forget exactly where my car is. Don't worry this will only take a moment."

Holding back a grin at the way he muddles around on that screen of his, you divert your gaze elsewhere to look around at the trees and other various greenery spread about as usual on a planet such as this one. It's fascinating, almost like that of your home world in Vanaheim. How you miss that place. The vast mountains spread throughout the landscape, huge lumbering trees taller then the cellphone towers you've passed, and great skies of blue where dragons fly at will.

Suddenly a stick cracks in the trees to your right, you turn while Bucky pays little attention, a crow flies out and into the blue sky it goes. Easy now, just a bird, nothing more. The wind picks up for a second and you can almost catch the scent of sulfur when a ball of fire erupts from the trees ready to kill.

The spherical flame screams towards you and Bucky, who's by now dropped his phone onto the tracks, "Y/N watch out!" He shouts fearfully, hand gripping onto your shoulder as you keep a strong fearless stance to the approaching flame.

Throwing a hand out, you divert the ball into the gravel where it bursts like a small firework, rocks flying everywhere as you stand at the ready for whatever happens next. "Y/N! What the hell was that!" Shouts Bucky.

"A scout. I think one of my brother's loyalists found me."

"A scou..." Another ball of flame soars towards the two of you and then another right behind it as you maneuver your body to deflect each of them in quick succession when out of the scorched trees does a smirking woman reveal herself. Her smile is proud and wicked, taller then Bucky she stands and impeccably strong she appears.

She wears armor closely resembling your own, but instead of blues, silver, and white. Her armor is black and red, silver replaced with shimmering obsidian as she walks into the evening light. Her eyes flicker gold like your own, she tilts her head at you, "Princess Y/N of Vanaheim. An honor to meet you, truly." She bows with mockery, you immediately despise her.

"What dog is this who speaks to me?"

She grimaces, "Aüla, master of flame, Phoenix of Vanaheim, I am here to bring what stolen jewelry lays upon your neck. What belongs to King Leyondros." She points a sharp nailed finger to your neck, "That, is a house Lavpranthus family heirloom."

"You think I was born yesterday? That incompetent tyrant who dare claim himself as king does not deserve what treasure I possess. He is barely a brother to me now, and you, what business do you serve?"

She smirks, gifting Bucky with a wink as she wiggles her fingers with flame, "He's sent his best out to find your whereabouts since he's exiled you. I just happened to be lucky enough to land on Midgard where wouldn't you know it, here keeps the banished Princess herself. I couldn't be more fortunate." She opens up her palm like a needy child, "Now Y/N, the object I so desire."

"You will die trying."

She holds up a threatening fist of hot flame, "I will be bathed in riches! I will be loved! King Leyondros will welcome his champion with open arms as I present him with the necklace stolen by his traitor sister! With grand tidings of her annihilation!"

You share a dark look with Aüle as you step in front of Bucky, "I do not care to know what bargaining from the beasts of this realm you made to find me. And I certainly do not care for the false promises my brother has warped into your mind, you cannot take my life and you cannot have this necklace."

She calls flame into both hands, "Then I'll take it off your burnt corpse!" She thrusts her hands forward causing a burst of hot orange flames to shoot like dragon fire straight for yourself and Bucky.

Anticipating this action, you create a wall of your own fire that shatters her advances, you turn to the wide eyed brunette, "Bucky forgive me for not handling this sooner. I hadn't realized she was here."

"It's fine." Mumbles Bucky, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he stares fearfully at the angry woman spewing fire at you still.

Focused back on Aüla, she suddenly begins creating whips of flame that crack and slash at the air. She throws a whip towards Bucky but you're able to deflect it easily, in retaliation of her advances, you thrust a burst of dusty wind knocking her backwards.

She tumbles across the gravel like a discarded sack of potatoes, jumping gracefully down from the high point of the tracks, you land nearby this hellfire spawn who staggers to her feet. Rubbing the dust from out of her eyes, she coughs, "Foul play Princess, I should have guessed you'd cheap shot."

"You still believe you're leaving here with my necklace?"

Leaving her charcoal stained eyes be, she opens her palms to flame, "Well I certainly don't intend on perishing at your hand. I will get what I came for."

You throw a quizzical look, is she insane? Not wanting to ponder her mental stability, you use the gravel to crawl it up to her knees where it fuses and roots itself into the ground, she flails her arms trying to regain balance. Angered by this, Aüla clenches her fists, tightly hugging them to her chest as she concentrates.

A small orange glow emits from the center of her chest before she screams while opening her arms to the sky and with that her whole body erupts with flame like that of a Phoenix reborn. Tree branches and leaves alike are burnt and singed nearby while her anchor is melted. Aüla levitates freely now, body a mass of hot flames as she stares furiously down at you with eyes of black charcoal.

"Behold the Phoenix! Now you will obey by law of the one true king!" Fire is thrown like thin arrows towards your face, again, easily deflected into the gravel below.

She chuckles darkly, thrusting a hand of intense flame that causes you to fall backwards across the ground. Pushing yourself up by the pads of your hands, she takes this vulnerable moment to race after Bucky with wings of fire.

Face contorted like a melted candle, her arms open wide as she prepares to embrace Bucky to the flames. Jumping up, you bend your arms, moving them in opposite directions on a linear path to conjure some type of protection. Aüla slams into an enchanted force field of dark blues that sends her flailing backwards like a bursting firework.

Regaining her balance, she levitates, scowling in disgust, "You? Would protect this mortal man?"

Your gaze falls onto Bucky, he's standing there, expression fearful and wide as he looks at you desperately. You take a step forward, "I will."

"But why? He is nothing compared to you, to us, he's simply an insect on a leaf."

"He is someone who has showed me more kindness in the last couple days then some of my own people have in the past hundred years!" You shout furiously before using your magic to paralyze her like you did with Wanda and Vision.

She struggles to move but all efforts are unfruitful, "Do not! Don't. You. Dare!" She screams as you take another fearless step towards her, raising your hands in a beautiful fluid motion, her obsidian irises flash with terror.

"Aüla, Phoenix of Vanaheim, I admire your efforts and valor. But I am not so merciful when my life as been threatened, as someone of these nine realms with some type of authority still. I, Y/N Lavpranthus of Vanaheim, condemn you to die." Your golden eyes flash with a noble flair of judgment while your hands sway like subtle waves on a beach.

"No. No. Nooo..." Her screams are eradicated when a burst of water consumes her entire vessel, she sizzles and smokes as you draw the river water away to reveal nothing but discarded broken armor. She never even noticed you were doing this.

As a plethora of water dissipates into steam from where she once stood, more liquid fills through the cracks in the gravel while you slowly wander over to the dark spot stained onto the center tracks. Kneeling down, you pick up an obsidian gauntlet cracked down the middle curve. "Who was that?" Asks Bucky from behind you.

"One of my brothers scouts. His best fire-bender.." You study the intricate markings that dance like vines around the metalwork, "..a phoenix in human form."

There is a long pause before he asks, "Why are you being hunted Y/N?"

You sigh, head bowed to the earth, "It's a long story."

Bucky frowns down at you, he's not sure what to do, but he knows you're deeply troubled by whatever events have led you to this point. A comforting hand rests upon your shoulder, "You don't have to tell me now. But I think we should go."

Dropping the broken gauntlet onto the dark stained wood, you stand, "Perhaps you're right. Who knows what else lurks in the shadows waiting to pounce. I'd rather not have you injured on my behalf."

Bucky shares a lopsided grin, "Appreciated. Now come on, I know the way home." Directs Bucky as the two of you begin walking down the tracks for wherever he speaks of.

Maybe these people aren't as bad as you'd first thought, unfortunately there are still evils that are desperate to find you. Until that time comes again.

Tagged: @buckylokisimp @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @bizarrebibitch @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @jmstz @thehornytitties @staygoldsquatchling02 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @mischiefmanaged71 @noragracebrewer @atomicpersonacheesecake @thescarlettvvitch @shawnartmendes

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