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aladaylessecondblog · 4 months

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Mousetrap, pt 1 (sequel to Six Hours)

Author's Note: Welp, here we are, ready for the actual plot of the game! Hope you enjoy. :)

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They're dead. They're ALL DEAD!

Orin's face was scarred, twisted with angry red gouges, some fresher than others, all of them vertical in nature. She was laughing, too. More madly than ever before.

You can kill me. You can kill me all you like. Give a display to make Bhaal proud! But it won't save you from Cazador, oh, no. The master of my freedom hates you with a wrath that would rival even MIzora. He freed her too, you know. But he wanted your death all to himself. Your friends, Rivington, dead, dead, DEAD! Those who are not will be soon! And if you think I--

A sudden gurgling noise, as a blade appeared in her throat from the other side.

"By the black hand, that bitch never shuts up..." A pause, then, "We...we need to go...now."

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Tav was prepared.

Packs, full. Supplies, ready. All of Cald's little workshop kits, secured.

Tav wrote up two notes on the front door, one at normal height and another at goblin height, both saying the same thing, and including directions to her garden, alchemy lab, and once inside the house, to the beds:

I have gone to see if any were harmed by the fall of that ship - a nautiloid, I believe.

In this house all are welcome if they are in need of healing, food, water, or rest. My only request is this: that once you cross my threshold, you have no enemies amongst yourselves. You are all partaking in the mercy of Ilmater, and to fight in this house is to spit in his face.

If you wish to repay my kindness, weed the garden, harvest fruit, herb, vegetable, and leave something for the next visitor. If you have eaten your fill, put the scraps into the compost bin. If I am gone through winter, chop wood and leave some behind.

- Tav

The last thing Tav did was change into her armor. She still had the Adamantine Scale Mail, and as she sat it on her bed she stripped her gown off and reached for a pair of trousers. When she turned to look in her mirror she saw--the expected scars, of course, but then, at her hip, there was something else. Something she took at first to be a bruise--it was red, like an inflamed wound, edged all over with the white of a healed scar.

She scribbled it down on a piece of paper before slipping on the trousers and covering it up.

She finished dressing, grabbed the Sword of Screams that she hadn't touched in years, inspected it, then sheathed it again. All was ready, and she had to start now, there was no time to worry about weird wounds like that. If it wasn't in danger of killing her right now and wasn't Raphael popping out of nowhere to ruin her next four minutes, it didn't matter.

The stage is set, and the first piece moves.

"Have you got all your bags, Cald? Canteen, crossbow? Everything?"

"Everything, mama!"

"Now," Tav said, when he appeared in the main room, "I want to remind you--everything I told you about hasn't happened yet so we have to be careful to do things as closely to the last time as possible. One of them might remember--besides the bone man I told you about. But until we figure out who that is we must be careful. Alright?"

"Yes, mama." He nodded his head, but was practically bouncing on his feet. "Let's go!"

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"What? Not another step or I'll --"

So it's not Shadowheart.

"We mean you no harm," Tav said, raising her holy symbol - an amulet she wore about her neck, that had a small pair of silver hands bound in red thread, "We're looking for survivors of the nautiloid crash, to see if they need aid. And...I...I have a tadpole too. I just...when it crashed, I had the chance to get home...collect my son, and..."

So was I not on the nautiloid this time? Perhaps someone like me was, but died?

Suddenly a question opened in her head, one she simply hadn't thought to ask before now: how did she have the tadpole but not change into an illithid? And HOW had she not thought about it until NOW? Perhaps Withers had done something to it before or during her journey back?

Thankfully, Shadowheart believed the bad lie.

"These things are going to consume us from the inside, and turn us into mindflayers! You and I...need...a healer."

"Well...I can heal, but...I can't do anything about the tadpoles," Tav replied.

"Finding one who can won't be easy in this wilderness...and we'll need supplies."

"I've got plenty of them, and I'm willing to share. My home is...somewhat south of here, in the swamps, and not knowing how long it would take to find someone who could help, well...you understand. I'm also a druid, so...I know Goodberry. If supplies run dry we'll have that."

"Mother's very nice about sharing," Cald said, eyeing Shadowheart, "So you don't have to worry about not getting much if you stay with us."

Shadowheart paused. "I suppose what lies ahead will be a little less daunting with support...and I won't say no to a guarantee of supplies."

She looked to Tav.

"Lead the way."

Tav took out her map, and beckoned Shadowheart closer. "I want to check around the ship's immediate area, to see if there's any other survivors. Then..."

She thought for a moment. Astarion and Lae'zel, she had to be sure to find them. Then Gale, and the druid grove for Wyll...Halsin, in the goblin camp...but one step at a time.

"Once we've finished with that I'd say we can head north to the Emerald Grove for anything beyond food. Crossbow bolts, things like that."

"Do you use a crossbow? I can, but...I didn't have it on me when I was taken."

"I do!" Cald said suddenly, "Just a little one, though, when I run out of spells. It might be too small for you."

He gave a grin and gestured at the one on his back. Tav had tried to teach him to use a regular bow, but he'd just taken to the crossbow a bit more.

She gave a brief smile at the thought - even without Gortash's presence, little bits of him were still sneaking out in his son.

"Well!" she said, bringing her hands together, "Let's get a move-on, before any more of these hideous things crawl out after us."

She wouldn't have minded it being Shadowheart, honestly, but it seemed it was not to be.

Once I discover who it is, I'll ask Withers. I don't know if he controlled who remembered, but he seems to like balance, so surely...hopefully...with two of the most heinous men alive remembering, there should be someone nicer to remember.

Though she hoped it wasn't Volo. How stupid THAT would be.

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It wasn't any of the tieflings near Lae'zel, either

"And if it escapes? How--oh, a guest." the leader whose name escaped her looked at Tav, but without a trace of recognition.

Tav looked up at Lae'zel, feeling a momentary pang of guilt. The woman whom she'd failed to save, before. The woman Orin had taken first. With the tadpole, she reached out to Lae'zel mentally.

Who are you? came the reply.

A cleric of Ilmater afflicted with...the same condition you seem to be suffering from. I'm not going to harm you. I'll get you down from there, just give me a minute.

"I'll deal with her," Tav said to the tieflings, "I saw a group of goblins on the way here, sounded like they were heading this way. You might want to hurry back."

"The goblins will take care of her if you all don't," one of the other tieflings said, before looking to her companions "Let's go."

They left, and she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

"This one, really?" Shadowheart questioned. "We should leave her there."

"We need all the support we can get," Tav replied quickly, "And a githyanki warrior, regardless of what you think of her personally, is a formidable foe."

Enough gawking, Lae'zel's voice came again in her mind, Get me down!

"How would we get her down, even if we wanted to? I don't see a lever within easy access."

"The floor of the cage looks pretty bad," Cald said. He reached behind him for his crossbow, then moved closer to Lae'zel's cage, studying it for a moment.

"You might hit her feet. That would be amusing," Shadowheart quipped.

He didn't seem to respond; he was too focused on his task. He raised the crossbow--knelt, and squinted his eyes. Then he fired--the bolt went up the side of the cage, not even grazing Lae'zel, who dropped to the ground when the wood she'd been standing on gave way.

"I know what you're going to say," Tav said suddenly, "I've met gith before, and know something of their...treatments for ghaik infection."

Lae'zel seemed surprised, but was undaunted. "Then you know that it is VITAL we visit a creche. Without what they offer, within days we will be ghaik!"

"Well, first we need supplies," Tav replied, "We are going to look around a little more for any possible survivors, and then we're going to the Emerald Grove for supplies. It would be a good idea to stick together. If a few tieflings reacted like that to your presence...I can only guess how a larger group would behave. Or a pack of the druids from the Grove."

"But you're a druid, mother," Cald spoke up. "And you're being nice."

"Not all druids are as welcoming."

"You have made an ally of Lae'zel, of Creche K'liir. Few know such fortune."

"I can only hope that fortune continues to smile upon us, then."

Gale and Astarion next, then, Tav thought.

Gale would've been one thing, but the idea of seeing Astarion again...she was afraid, frankly. Not that he wouldn't remember, but that he WOULD. Angry? That was a possibility. But almost worse was the idea that he'd be relieved to see her, knowing--having suffered, no doubt, six more years under Cazador.

Cazador--that was a thought. If Raphael wasn't outright LYING, the vampire lord would remember all, and surely that would carry through to Astarion? What if he hadn't been allowed outside and hadn't been tadpoled? What if he was dead already? What if--

"Has the tadpole eaten your brain?" Lae'zel spoke up. "Let's go."

"Of course," Tav replied instantly, "I'm sorry, I was just thinking about--let's go."

She turned and started off, praying Astarion was both where he should be and that he didn't remember a damn thing.

#tav has a shadow thats going to cast itself over everything it can #tav #bg3 #fanfiction #vitiligo drow tav #drow tav #bg3 fanfic #shadowheart #lae'zel #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate tav #bg3 orin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 tav #laezel #drow oc #tiefling

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anomalyhqs · 7 months

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did you hear the latest scoop ? we’ve got a new student joining us ! a little birdie told me that they’re called PARK JAEHYUN, but they kinda remind me of KIM HANBIN — don’t ‘cha think ? you’re probably thinkin’ they’re just another 26 year old in their SECOND year of some BACHELOR’S DEGREE IN EXERCISE SCIENCE, but wait ‘till you hear about their SUPERSTRENGTH ! nifty, huh ? probably good to know, especially ‘cause i heard they’re HOUSE GANGCHEORI’s new CAPTAIN ! they’re pretty COMPANIONABLE on nullivi, but you should watch out for their AGGRESSION just in case ! anyway — if you wanna check them out, i heard they’re staying at the BLUE HALL. oops ! you didn’t hear that one from me ! ༊*·˚

—— WELCOME, STUDENT! PLEASE SEE OUR STUDENT HANDBOOK.

SUPERSTRENGTH • to possess a level of strength far beyond the natural level. this allows him to lift tanks and airplanes, and tear through metal with his bare hands.

ENHANCED DURABILITY • to possess a level of physical durability that can allow him to withstand a greater amount of damage than the average person. his durability allows him to use his strength without harming himself in the process, such as lifting heavy objects without breaking bone or being crushed under its weight.

ENHANCED LEAP • to possess the ability to leap to great heights and distances, allowing him to jump six-storeys vertically or leap over a total of two standard houses horizontally.

EARTHQUAKE GENERATION • to possess the ability to create strong, localised earthquakes. this can be achieved by forcefully slamming the ground beneath him, either with his hands or feet.

LIMITATIONS

his strength is permanently active and as such, requires a good amount of control and lucidity in order to handle mundane things and people without breaking them. as a consequence, he has poor fine motor skills, making it challenging for him to perform delicate tasks.

while his ability grants him a baseline strength that far exceeds the typical non-mutant, he, like others, requires weight training to further extend his ability. however, the training resources required to challenge his strength are exceedingly rare, thus stagnating his strength development. currently, the only way he's able to build his strength is by wearing the patch.

his durability allows him to withstand a large amount of blunt force trauma, but it is less effective against physical damage received from sharp objects like swords, bullets, and grenade shards.

he is guaranteed to damage the structural integrity of the ground he leaps from due to the strength required to perform the leap. similarly, he will likely damage the ground he lands on and, if not careful, may generate an earthquake upon landing.

he is unable to stop or reverse an earthquake once initiated. he is also susceptible to the effects of the earthquake, and may sustain injuries if not careful.

#nm:accepted #subplot:sportingrally #resident:bluehall

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sylphidine · 1 year

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[NDU] Memory Retrieval

@rotgsecretsanta

A very merry happy everything to all those in the Nightmare Dork University fandom, and especially for the person who requested prompt#96 in the ROTG Stocking Stuffer event for 2022!

May the good ship Nightmare Galleon forever sail.

____________________

The Fall Ball was over.

Six solid weeks of weekend lacrosse scrimmages had come and gone, and Pitchiner was ready to spend the remaining Saturdays and Sundays of the semester sleeping in.

Preferably curled up in full-bodied spoon fashion around a certain bony, snarky drama king who had a ridiculously poor circulatory system.

On the second Saturday of November, Pitchiner woke from yet another one of those dreams where he was stalked and mocked by a gigantic and ruthless galactic pirate who wore his face. Disoriented, he reached a hand out to pull Pitch closer to his body for reassurance, and encountered cold sheets and empty space where Pitch should be.

He clamped his lips shut before he could do anything as embarrassing as calling out for his roommate. As it was so often said, that way lay madness. Murphy’s law would almost definitely take over and triumph, in the form of Proto and his damned bat-sharp ears answering Pitchiner’s call instead.

So, as much as he did not want to be vertical this early, Pitchiner swung his legs over the side of the bed and scrounged through the rumpled piles of clothing on the floor for some boxers and a T-shirt. Dressed enough to satisfy decency standards if anyone rang the buzzer for their flat, he padded on bare feet down the hallway towards the living room.

And that’s where he found Pitch.

The shorter man was seated on the couch, hunched over his laptop. A full steaming cup of black coffee and a plate of biscotti sat on the coffee table in front of him. When Pitchiner’s shadow fell over him, Pitch tilted his head upwards in acknowledgement, but kept staring at the screen, an expression somewhere between disbelief and desperation etched on his angular face.

“Whatcha up to, babe?” Pitchiner asked, trying to keep his tone light. The scene in front of him - the coffee, the biscotti, the taut focus on his bedmate’s face - had all the warning signs of Pitch launching himself into yet another bout of overworking, which could end up triggering another seizure incident. That was something Pitchiner would give an arm and a leg to avoid experiencing again. Once was enough, thank you.

“Wracking my brains to figure out what approach to take with Professor Izzilee’s second-to-last assignment,” Pitch replied, finally turning his body to look Pitchiner fully in the eye. “I either need a time machine, or to create a non-existent childhood experience.”

“Come again?” Pitchiner flopped onto the couch next to Pitch, narrowly avoiding knocking the coffee table with his knees. Pitch looked daggers at him and snatched his mug out of harm’s way, taking a deep swig before answering. “This is for the ‘Nihil Noctem’ course I’m taking, and the assignment is to write about a Saturday morning cartoon that frightened me as a child.”

“That sounds cool! What’s the problem?”

“The problem is that neither Piki nor I ever watched Saturday morning cartoons.”

Pitchiner blinked and shook his head. “Why does that not surprise me?” For that, he received a sharp poke in the ribs with Pitch’s bony elbow.

“I know what you’re thinking, that the offspring of rich people are too high and mighty and above it all to do something as plebeian as view cartoons. But it was more than that. Have I mentioned that my brother and I had a nanny until we were ten?”

“Uh huh. Again, not a surprise.”

“Shut it. I’m trying to make a point. Nanny Phoebe was a lot more attuned to us as children than our parents were. She’s the one that noticed that Piki’s eyesight was weaker than mine, and she’s the one who picked up on the fact that certain smells would trigger my headaches, like carpet cleaning fluid and furniture polish. So she’s the one that kept us from watching television, not because she thought it was evil, but because she figured out, a lot earlier than most people did, what lights and sounds should be filtered for children with our particular circumstances.”

“Huh. That’s impressive on her end, but I’m still kind of sad that you missed out on so much good stuff.”

“Oh, you don’t have to be. Horseback riding, music, reading… those are nothing to sneeze at for childhood activities.”

“Yeah, but.” Pitchiner slung an arm around Pitch and pulled him roughly against his side as he said, “that means that I’m just going to have to fill in the gaps in your education, so that you don’t let Professor Izzilee down.”

Pitch made a grumbling noise as he practically fell into Pitchiner’s lap. “And how do you propose to do that? Do you actually have a time machine hidden around here?”

“Nope. But I am going to introduce you to something that scared the living shit out of ME as a kid, and I will BET that it will keep your attention even now.”

“Is all this… paraphernalia really necessary?” Pitch demanded crankily, two hours later.

“Absolutely necessary,” Pitchiner shot back. “I can’t recreate YOUR childhood, but I can recreate mine, and you can borrow it for your assignment.”

“Hmmmm. You may have a point. It’s not too hard for me to imagine myself young and powerless, especially in this ridiculous garb.”

“You look adorable, sweetcheeks. And Purradox and Tarminator are comfy, aren’t they?”

“Yes, yes.” Pitch grudgingly accepted the kiss Pitchiner planted on top of his head.

They each wore a pair of footie pajamas that Pitchiner had found at the department store in town. They sat cross-legged on the floor with their backs leaning against the couch, a pug dog and a longhaired cat cuddled on their laps, a blanket fort canopied over their heads. Pitchiner had a bowl of disgustingly sugar-laden cereal next to him that he ate with his fingers. Pitch couldn’t quite unbend that far to “get into the experience”, as Pitchiner put it, but he had to admit to himself that this was actually not too awful a way to spend time together.

[Particularly since Proto had apparently left the flat while they were out shopping, and had left a note that he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Small blessing, but Pitch would take one wherever he could.]

Pitchiner pointed the remote at their entertainment center, and the DVD started to play. An animated action sequence with an appropriately-synched soundtrack unfolded, fading into a title card that read “The Invisible Monster”, with the credited year given as 1965.

He observed Pitch’s reactions to what they were watching, rather than watching an episode he knew by heart. It pleased him to see how quickly Pitch immersed himself in the story, rather than the scoffing dismissal Pitchiner had expected. At one point Tarminator barked in response to a dog barking on screen, but other than a quick “ssshhh”, Pitch didn’t change his posture.

Both animals left the room about halfway through the episode. Pitchiner grinned to himself. As a kid, he hadn’t known about infrasonics, but he wasn’t surprised that Purradox and Tarminator had noped out when the incidental music hit those low-frequency tones.

To all appearances, Pitch was mesmerized by the manifestation of the invisible monster’s heavy footprints in the dirt, small smoking craters accompanied by crashing noises as the soundtrack cranked up the eerie mood. And then the scene came where the heroes poured paint over the creature so that it could be seen.

Okay, this is make-or-break time, Pitchiner thought to himself. Either Pitch would dismiss the whole rest of the show as silly, or he would find it just as nerve-wracking as Pitchiner had when he first saw it all those years ago.

On the screen the heroes defeated the monster with the application of science, and returned to their ordinary lives. The episode’s credits rolled, and the smaller man leaned against the larger man’s shoulder. Pitchiner didn’t know whether Pitch was even aware he’d done so, and decided to let it ride rather than mocking him.

After a few minutes Pitch finally spoke. “I think I must have actually seen this once upon a time, because I’ve had nightmares about an electrical phantom.”

“Really?” “Of course I can’t be sure. But I think so. I doubt I could have dreamed up that strange flowing, glitching movement without some inspiration.”

“Told ya it would freak you out, if you could put yourself back in the mind of the kid you could have been.”

Pitch stretched his arms out and wriggled his backside against the couch, a movement that did happy things to Pitchiner’s insides, saying, “I think I’ve got a direction to go in now with this project. Thank you for showing me this.”

“Need a hand getting off the floor?”

“I hate to admit it, but yes.”

“No sweat.” Pitchiner scrambled to his feet and scooped Pitch up into his arms in a bridal carry. Of course Pitch squawked a bit, but Pitchiner leaned his head down to shut him up with a sloppy kiss. When they both broke for air, Pitchiner said, “I think I’ve had enough kid stuff today. Wanna help me find MY one-eyed monster?”

“You. You’re insatiable." Pitch gave a long-suffering sigh. "Let’s go.”

#rotgsecretsanta #rotgsecretsanta2022 #nightmare dork university #nightmare galleon #ndu pitchiner #ndu pitch #sylph writes

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tockamybeloved · 2 years

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WIP for Cortez

Scratching at the solid rocks did no good. No true foothold, no even ledge to secure strong fingers.

Now he regretted not following his older brother the times the boys would escape their father’s domineering eye and their mother’s worrying hold, venturing beyond the roman canals to hills similar to the one now directly before his face.

Cortez would take challenges - to a point. Crossing the rushing winter river, hoisting himself up a tree. But sometimes he would pause, mind calculating risk almost faster than he could stop his body. Better to have a brother shouting insults than to explain to a crying mother why he arrived home with a broken limb. That sort of injury is harder to conceal. Mud and bruises and rips in clothes were all easily mendable.

And a fight between the boys in town was expected. That he’d not shy away from. Once engaged with fists tight, it was over quickly. Agitation became exhilaration. Then certain glorification when upon his brother’s shoulders he was declared victor and paraded down the street.

Only to arrive home and be both scolded for his bravado and congratulated for his resilience. How to possess both humility and respect would take years to master.

But damn. This expedition would find the one near impossible to scale promontory to declare its arrival.

The paths he traversed in Córdoba were centuries old even if bare of stone pavement. Steep, yes but nothing comparable to this near vertical cliff even the plants not dare take foothold in.

“Down here!” Someone shouted beside him.

A thick rope swished by, and he grabbed for it, gave a sharp tug, and without care to whom above might be holding the other end leaned slightly putting his weight on the line.

One foot in front of the other. Closely he examined the movements of the men to either side. One seemed halfway up the face already. Almost like he was an expert at scaling walls. But for nefarious reasons. Pleasure-seeking reasons. Get out quick or be shot by an angry father reasons.

“Up you go!” The brisk order from above sounded.

It was more by force of strength in arms that he climbed to the top, feet merely there to keep from sliding backward rather than used to walk as the others had. Glad to know if I lose my legs I can still be upright.

A familiar hand stretched out the last foot from the clifftop. “Give me your hand.”

“Thanks.”

“No thanks about it. Near the last man I think.”

Cortez turned behind to see before hoisting himself to the top. Fuck. He was near the last man. Six followed. Disgraceful performance for a soldier pursuing the idea that he earned rank. And he had. Conceded it wasn’t his fault the world order made sure only those with God-given authority lead indiscriminately weaker minds.

Horrible process. Gathering letters of recommendation, securing birth rights and hundreds-year-old family documents to sit like a man already condemned for an unknown crime in front of both Church authority and the Admiralty, a vocation dependent on the credibility of other lives previously led, other persons' judgment of him.

Prided the lineage but never possessed soft hands. Too busy riding. Running. Pretending to dig trenches so as a child he could sneak into the alcazar gardens.

Cortez brushed the dirt from those hands.

“Next time use your legs. See,” and Marcos began to bend awkwardly at the knees looking much like a blue heron they first took sight of three days ago.

“I don’t intend on making this a habit,” Cortez said.

“No one does! But we go where commanded, and this.” Marcos swallowed with a grimace before continuing, motioning down only with a hand and keeping eyes on the horizon. Looking to the beach below was dangerous, dizzying. “Right place to put a fortress.”

“Capitán general will have us crawl that too.”

“No no. Blast the walls clean out from under that ugly flag first. Then climb over rubble.” Marcos gave a hard pat to Cortez’s back and smiled. “Much easier.”

Cortez drew a winded huff and smiled in return.

The smell of burning meat, charcoaled and savory, wafted slowly under his nose. Cortez lay on his back lazily blinking eyes open to the stars. And there were so many of them. Hazy, blurry.

Initially the idea struck sharp.

Clear vision. He’d not tolerate wire pinched across the bridge of his nose. Blindness! That would put a stop to his endeavor. Boarded up and locked in a stuffy room were the men who no longer saw sharply. No adventures for them anymore. Glass on, sails gone, the phrase warned. Plus he once tried to wear those infernal spectacles - his father’s precisely. Thought it might be the key to helping him learn to read faster. Nada. Crossed his eyes and made his stomach turn.

He eventually caught on with letters, though not as fast as numbers. Those he tossed in his head so quickly it intimidated. Languages and letters took an infernal amount of time to master. Neat and precise writing came from those hours, especially when signing his name. For that he practiced until the flourish was deemed almost uncopiable. Sometimes by his own hand. Fortunately now in possession of his father’s seal made certain dealings easier.

But the sky. Still blurred, still a soft edge of white following the curve of the moon.

Cortez looked skyward and remembered what the doctor said the previous day.

‘Just the humidity,’ the man explained to the patient seated low to the ground on a three-legged stool in the medical officer’s tent.

‘You see alright in the daytime?’ He asked, having abruptly pulled Cortez’s right eyelids apart, waving a magnifying glass quickly to and fro over the organ.

Hot breath brushed across his pried open eye and face. Cortez winced. He could almost taste the man’s breath - a mix of spearmint and boiled eggs.

‘Yes.’

The doctor removed his thick fingers and stepped back shaking a cloth from the front pocket of the uniform to wipe the glass in short circular motions thoroughly pleased with the examination. ‘Then don’t worry about it. Light plays all sorts of havoc to new eyes out here. You’ll get used to it. Got patients who believe they’ve seen miraculous visions when it’s only a trick. A refraction in the clouds.’

‘Mirages.’ The word left Cortez’s mouth quietly.

The doctor shrugged, giving an apathetic once over to his patient and casually murmured, ‘Sometimes.’

Then stepping confidently beyond the canvas door he left Cortez in a cluttered field office with medical utensils piled neatly on the desk. Strung along the walls from wooden clips hung various meticulous ink sketches of human anatomy.

Cortez would be on the lookout for mirages.

As for the earlier cliff. Once again he brought hands up between the fire light and night sky, a halo of orange wrapping around fingers. Ropes left calluses on softer noble hands. Sharp rocks scraped open bare skin.

And rocks were never mirages.

#my wip #Cortez DMTNT #not sure where this is going #made myself sad with the last line #can't believe I'm writing again #might make this entirely separate from fandom #original work and OC

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

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Pocket Knife Prince

Pairing: c!Technoblade x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] You’ve liked Technoblade from the moment he joined Pogtopia, but you could never quite bring yourself to confess. Who knew it would only take a pocket knife and some potatoes to change that?

Warnings: minor cursing & one slightly out of pocket joke

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this a repost of an older story i had posted a while back. this story takes place back when technoblade was still allied with pogtopia. i hope you enjoy! <3

You huffed as you pulled yourself up another rung on the ladder, your arms straining as you did your best to keep yourself balanced. You still couldn’t fathom why Tommy thought it was a good idea to dig straight down.

“I’ll hit a cave, eventually,” he had told you as he grabbed a pickaxe, already starting to mine away at the space beneath his feet.

“Maybe,” you had said. “But what if you hit a lava pool? Do you really want to burn alive?”

“Oh, I have a backup plan in case I fuck up.” He held up a bucket of water, grinning at you. “Bam. Fucking foolproof.”

Yeah, sure, you thought to yourself with a grimace as you continued to haul yourself upward. You might not have died while digging down, but I might die while climbing up.

Pausing, you reached behind you to adjust the strap of your back with a cry of frustration. This is way too heavy—I should have gone back earlier.

You looked back up again, squinting for a second before your eyes lit up. At long last, light! You were at least somewhat close to the entrance, now. “Just a bit more climbing,” you muttered to yourself as you reached up once more, “and then you’ll be able to take this stupid bag off.”

A few moments later, you gasped as you finally dragged yourself out of the vertical tunnel, standing up on shaky legs. Without even an ounce of hesitation, you swung your pack off your back, dumping it onto the dusty earth ungracefully. Your muscles practically screamed with relief as you rolled back your shoulders, a wide smile stretching across your face.

“Hey, boys!” you shouted, your voice echoing in the tall ravine. “Guess who’s back?!”

You heard some rumbling, then a tuft of blond hair peeked out from one of the overhanging pillars. “Big [Y/N]!” Tommy shouted, waving at you. “You took for-fuckin’-ever to get back.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s not my fault we needed so much stuff.” You narrowed your gaze. “Also, your ladder idea sucks.”

Tommy scowled. “My ladder idea is fucking genius, you bi—”

A new voice cut in. “Tommy, that’s enough.”

You smiled triumphantly as you watched Tommy immediately shrink back, his tone quieting as he grumbled defeatedly, “Yes, Wilbur.”

Giving him a quick ruffle of his hair, Wilbur strolled down the ravine’s cobblestone steps down to the bottom. He pulled his hands out of his coat pockets as he flashed you a grin. “Welcome back, [Y/N]. How was the trip?”

You offered him a weary but satisfied look. “Oh, you know. Dark. Dusty. The usual. But…” Bending down, you flipped open the top of your pack and pulled out a smaller sack, shaking it in front of his face. “…I got all that gold you wanted! There’s probably a little less than seven stacks in there, which will be plenty if we want to make some golden apples.”

Wilbur blinked at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise as a smile began to tug at his lips. “Not that I doubt you or anything,” he said, “but where in the world did you manage to get nearly seven stacks of gold?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, dropping the bag into his hands with a hum. “In a cave.” When he stared at you in stunned silence, you quirked a brow at him. “What? It’s not like it was hard.”

He was grinning now, shaking his head. “You’re batshit crazy, [Y/N]. That’s incredible.”

You smiled sheepishly at his words. “For the record,” you pointed out, “I didn’t do it all in a single day or anything. I was gone for, like, half a week.”

“That’s still really good work, alright?” He reached over, playfully punching your shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

You winced, shooting him a dirty look. “Ow, that hur—”

“Oh, you’re back.”

Your head whipped around at the sound of low, rumbling voice. Your frown vanished at the sight of Technoblade standing a few feet away from you, a basket of potatoes held in his gloved hands. You felt your heart swell and a bright grin replace your scowl as you bounced over to him. “Hi, Techno!” you chirped.

He smiled back at you, his gaze kind. “Hello.”

From behind you, Wilbur let out a distressed noise. “Jeez, you seem so excited to talk to him but barely batted an eye at me. Did you miss him that much?”

You stuck your tongue out at him, trying to hide the flush of your cheeks. “More than I did you.”

Tommy cackled as he walked by, adjusting the straps of the pack in his hands. “Ouch. Maybe you should get some ice for that burn, Wilbur.”

Wilbur grimaced, opening his mouth to retort when his gaze suddenly lit up. “Actually,” he said, turning, “speaking of ice, who wants to go with me to the Nether to destroy some of the SMP’s and Manberg’s ice roads?” A devilish grin split across his face. “I figured that it would slow them down a bunch and they’d spend less time focusing on us, so it’ll be easier for us to get into contact with Tubbo.”

You blinked at him, then sent him a teasing smile. “Wilbur, this might one of the only good ideas you’ve had since starting a drug cartel.”

“Thank y—wait, is that a compliment?”

“Man,” Technoblade sighed, rolling his eyes at him, “just take it as one and let your ego coast on that for the next six months.”

“Anyways,” Wilbur said, ignoring him and moving on, “who wants to come with me?”

You shook your head, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “No thanks. I just got back from a long, long mining trip. I think I’m due for some time off.”

Wilbur nodded. “Alright, fair.” His gaze moved to the figure standing next to you. “Techno?”

Technoblade simply raised the basket of potatoes in his hands. “Nah. I’ve got my hands full here.”

Wilbur made a face, a hint of desperation seeping into his eyes. “You can farm potatoes any time,” he said, his voice raising a pitch or two. “How about you just come with m—”

“Why don’t I just go?”

Wilbur froze, and he turned with a shaky smile. “A-Are you sure about that, Tommy? You sure you don’t just want to stay in the ravine with [Y/N]?”

Tommy shrugged, flipping the stick in his hand. “Not really. It’s not like I have anything better to do, anyways.” He nudged the pack at his feet. “I’m even packed and ready to go, too.”

Wilbur swallowed, and you could have sworn a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. “You really want to come?” he added, sounding more and more uncertain with each word that passed his lips.

“I dunno, Wilbur,” Technoblade spoke up, quirking his lips at him, “but it almost sounds like you don’t want to bring Tommy with you.”

Tommy gasped, looking appalled. “What the hell, Will? Of course you want me to go with you, right?”

Wilbur turned on his heel, dragging a tired hand over his face. “Sure, Tommy. Let’s just say that.” He strode away toward the stairs, practically stomping his way up to the second floor. “Just give me a second to grab a pack,” he sighed, waving a hand behind him. “I’ll be down in like five minutes.”

Tommy threw his hands in the air, waving his stick. “Fuck yeah!”

Technoblade let out a quiet chuckle, turning on his heel. “Well, I’m gonna go back to farming.”

You glanced at him shyly, trailing after him. “Can I come with?”

His step faltered, and he turned to send you a fond look. “Always.”

Your heart lit up at the sight and you grinned, following him into the garden room. The entirety of the floor had been replaced with dirt, tiny streams of water weaving their way around the potato patches. You let out a quiet hum as Technoblade set the basket of potatoes on the ground, grabbing a hoe from its place on the wall and walking over to the makeshift field. Digging the blade of the hoe into the earth, he pulled back and repeated the motion until the soft, dark soil was exposed to the air. Leaning back against the wall, a soft smile crept onto your face as you watched.

You remembered when Technoblade first arrived in the Dream SMP, all those months ago. You had been sitting in the ravine, peeling an apple with a pocket knife as you chatted with Wilbur, when Tommy burst in with a deafening shout about “the blade”. Raising your head, you had opened your mouth to make a snarky retort, but the words died in your mouth the minute you laid eyes on him.

He looked like a prince—a handsome one, at that.

While Wilbur had jumped down to greet Technoblade with a friendly hug, you had simply stared at the newcomer, pocket knife in your hand and apple slice in the other. As Tommy brought Technoblade over to you and asked you to introduce yourself, you remembered that dizzy pink feeling rising in your chest as you blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Want an apple slice?”

You had expected him to be confused, shaking his head and pulling away with a disgusted look. But instead, his gaze flickered to your hand.

“I’d rather have the knife.”

You had blinked at him for a moment, stunned, then burst into laughter, outstretching your hand with the pocket knife handle extended toward him. He had offered you a small, awkward smile back, gingerly taking the knife from you. When his hands brushed against yours, that hazy, rosy feeling swelled in your chest again.

Ever since that moment, you’d only fallen harder and harder.

It was difficult to put into words just what drew you to Technoblade. Of course, he was pretty, but you weren’t that shallow. He had an awkward charm to him, something that seeped into every aspect of his being. He was hardworking, determined, sarcastic, and oh-so very real. You couldn’t name one thing about him that you didn’t like, really. You loved his laughter that came in brief, giggling bursts. Every time he smiled, you couldn’t help but smile back. He never failed to keep you guessing, and you loved every second you spent with him.

You weren’t sure how far you’d fallen at this point, but you knew one thing, and it was that there was no going back.

“Hey,” a new voice said suddenly, pulling you away from your thoughts. You turned, watching Tommy stick his head into the room. “Can I have some potatoes for the trip?”

Your eyes shot to Technoblade, who paused for a moment, then nodded, gesturing to the basket at his feet. “Sure. You can have a couple.”

Tommy grinned, strolling in to lean down and pluck three potatoes from the pile. Standing back up again, he toed the basket, tossing and catching a potato in his hands. “Hey, Techno,” he said, “don’t you ever get tired of farming these things?”

Technoblade paused, patting down the dirt he had just covered another potato with. “Eh, not really.” His eyes flickered with contentment, and you felt your lips twitch. “I like it.”

Tommy frowned. “But,” he said, “it’s so fucking boring.”

You gasped, shooting him a glare. “Tommy! That’s mean.”

“What? Am I wrong?” He flung his arm out to point at the tilled dirt, clearly unimpressed. “All he’s doing is the same fucking thing over and over, again. We’re in a war, [Y/N]. Why can’t he just spar with me or something?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, deadpanning. “Tommy, the last time you sparred with Technoblade, you lasted less than ten seconds.”

He grew quiet. “Okay, well, you didn’t have to put it like that, but—”

“What? Am I wrong?” you said, mimicking him.

A second passed. Then two.

“…touché, [Y/N].”

“Tommy!” Wilbur’s voice echoed from the top of the stairs, his head popping out from between the railings. “You ready to go?”

Without missing a beat, Tommy whipped around, rushing out of the farm room and slipping up the stairs. “I’m coming!”

A smirk tugged at Wilbur’s lips. “Heh.”

“Wha—oh, Will! That’s fucking disgusting.”

“But it was funny,” you called out after the youngest.

“Fuck off, [Y/N]!”

Beside you, Technoblade let out a laugh, his eyes curving into two crescent moons as he set down the hoe and picked up a shovel. With a fond smile gracing your lips, you took a step toward him, leaning down to take a closer look. There was something so endearing about knowing someone as powerful as Technoblade had a hobby as mundane as farming—farming potatoes, to be more specific.

You liked it. A lot. You liked him a lot.

You wondered how much longer you could go without saying it aloud.

“Hey, Techno,” you murmured, watching his ears perk up at the sound of your voice, “could you teach me the best way to plant potatoes?”

He paused, his shovel planting itself in the earth as he turned to look at you, his lips parted in surprise. “Y-You actually want to learn?”

You bobbed your head, praying that your face wasn’t growing any warmer. “Of course. Fighting’s fun and all, but there’s more to life than just bloodshed.” You flashed him a bright grin. “Besides, an army needs food to fight!”

With a small grin, he gestured for you step closer. “You want to make sure you dig about six to eight inches down,” he explained, gesturing down the hole with his finger. “If you don’t dig deep enough, then the potato will be too close to the surface, and if you dig too deep, it’ll have a harder time reaching the top.”

You nodded, your tongue swiping over your lips in concentration. Technoblade let out a brief cough, turning away with a slight flush to his cheeks as he grabbed a potato from the basket next to him. “Then,” he continued, “grab a potato. You’ll want to cut it in half down the middle and plant it so the cut side is facing downwards.”

Sticking a hand into his pocket, he rummaged around for a second before pulling out a familiar pocket knife. Your eyes flashed with recognition as he flipped the blade open and sliced through the potato with ease.

“Is that,” you began slowly, your tone tentative and gentle, “my pocket knife? From when we first met?”

Technoblade’s hands faltered as he sliced, his gaze flickering to you with a bashful look. “It’s—um, yeah. Does… does that bother you?”

You immediately shook your head, waving your hands in front of you. “No, not at all! I-I was just wondering. I haven’t seen it in a while, that’s all.”

He lowered his chin, and you could have sworn his cheeks were pink. “I’ve been taking good care of it,” he admitted quietly, his gaze not meeting yours. “It’s important to me.”

You blinked, your heart beating faster in your chest. “It is?” you whispered.

He nodded. “It is.”

You wanted to curl up into a ball and squeal. It only took two simple words from him to send you into a flurry of awkward smiles and blushing whines. You couldn’t believe just how far gone you were.

Technoblade stretched a hand toward you, half of the potato he cut clutched between his fingers. “Here. You try planting one.”

With a shaky hand, you gently pulled the potato from his hands, nearly flinching at the feeling of his skin brushing against yours. Carefully, you reached over and set the potato face down like he had instructed. You pointed your hand toward the pile of dirt lying just beside the hole, about to start covering the potato when his arm shot out in front of you.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, making you freeze in place. “You don’t have gloves on. I don’t want your hands to get dirty.”

You sent him a small smile, waving a hand dismissively at him. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”

He didn’t budge. “Please. Let me.”

That fuzzy feeling was back, and you pulled back. “Okay,” you whispered, your stomach swarming with butterflies as you watched him cover your planted potato with his hands. For someone who made a lot of jokes regarding human ethics, he was far more caring than he let on.

“Y’know,” you said softly, glancing over at him, “it’s really cool watching you do this, even if Tommy thinks it’s boring.” A small smile flitted across your face. “There are all these specific conditions that you have to know to have the most efficient farm with the best percent yield of potatoes—it’s honestly kind of surreal just how much brainpower actually goes into farming.”

Technoblade stared at you, his eyes reflecting something thoughtful and warm, and another thought popped into your head. You felt your cheeks begin to grow warm at the words swirling around your head. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you opened your mouth, again.

“I-I, um,” you began shakily, suddenly finding the scuff mark on your shoe very interesting, “I really hope you know how smart we think you really are. How smart I know you are. Because you are. Smart, that is.”

You must have been trembling, you could almost feel it. Why was it so hard to put your feelings into words? At this rate, you were never going to be able to confess how you felt. Just how much longer could you drag this out fo—

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. You turned your head, your lips parting as you looked at him in surprise. The moment his soft gaze met yours, a spark of electricity ran through your veins, and you shivered for an entirely different reason.

“Thank you,” he murmured, tilting his head at you. “I appreciate it.”

Suddenly, he squinted his eyes at you, his carmine gaze narrowing. “Oh wait, you’ve got something on your face,” he murmured, inching closer in to take a better look.

“Oh,” you said, a hand immediately darting up to your cheek, “that’s probably just some dust or soot or something. You know, from the mines.” You wiped at your face with the back of your hand, embarrassment shooting up your spine knowing that you probably looked dumb. “Did I get it?”

He frowned, pulling off his gloves as he leaned closer. “No, here let me just—”

Suddenly, his hand was on your face, your cheek held gently in his palm. Your heart came barreling to a stop, your entire body freezing like ice.

He was so close.

The pads of his finger were warm and calloused, yet they held a certain softness to him as his thumb slowly swiped just under her eye, careful to brush away the dirt that marred your face. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you found yourself unable to look away from him, hyperaware of the goosebumps that shot up your sides as his gaze met yours. A prince—he really did look like a prince.

For a moment, the two of you simply gazed at one another, a silent question hanging over you.

Before you could stop yourself, you opened your mouth.

“Can I say something kind of crazy?” you whispered.

“Of course,” he whispered, not moving his gaze from yours for even a heartbeat.

You sucked in a deep breath, screwing your eyes shut. “I…” You swallowed. “I really, really want to kiss you, right now.”

A moment of silence passed, and you held your breath, tension digging itself into your shoulders. Oh, I’m totally about to get rejected. This was such a bad idea. What was I even thinki—

“Can—” He started then stopped, and you could have sworn his cheeks were pink. “Can I say something even crazier?”

You heart leapt. “Yeah, totally,” you breathed.

He turned back to look at you, and you felt something deep in your chest click. “I really, really want to kiss you, too.”

Your eyes flew wide, and you couldn’t stop the giddy grin forming on your face. Almost imperceptibly, Technoblade dipped his head down close to yours, his crimson eyes darting across your face as he took in your every feature. As he leaned closer toward you, a question silently flashes in his gaze.

Can I…?

You smiled and nodded oh-so subtly, just for him to see.

Yes, yes, yes.

Ever so slowly, he leaned down toward you, and you felt your eyelids flutter shut. Just then, his lips met yours, soft and tentative like a deer taking its first, shaky steps. Electric ran down your spine at his velvet touch, your hands reaching up to wrap around his neck and touch his cherry blossom pink hair. His crown tumbled to the ground off his head, rolling a few times before coming to a full stop, but neither of you particularly noticed, far too enraptured with one another to care.

This was everything you could have possibly asked for.

A moment later, you pulled apart, gasping for air as the two of you gazed into each other’s eyes. His hair had been mussed by your touch, his lips parted and puffy from the kiss.

You didn’t think he could look any more princely, but he still managed to prove you wrong.

Clearing your throat, you cast eyes away in shy embarrassment. “I feel like I should also clarify that this means I like you,” you added in a rush, fidgeting with your hands. “Like, way more than I thought I could ever like a person.”

Technoblade let out a sigh of relief, lips curling at the corners. “Oh, that’s good. I like you, too.” Your heart did a backflip in your chest, shouting in celebration as he added, “I was sort of thinking we were just gonna kiss and never talk about it, again.”

You shot him a quizzical look. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.”

He sent you a crooked smile, but his gaze was fond. “Only kind of.”

You weren’t quite sure how many minutes passed in comfortable silence, both of you simply basking in the other’s warm presence. It was nice—this was nice. You wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while longe—

“—y it, Tommy, just say it!”

Your eyes shot wide open in panic. Across from you, Technoblade’s expression mirrored your own.

They were back.

“I’m telling you it’s okay, Tommy—you can call me ‘Wilby’ if you want to!”

Flailing your arms in a panic, you immediately began to backpedal to the other side of the room, Technoblade picking up his shovel and beginning to shovel as fast as he could.

“You’re still going off about this shit? Jesus Christ, I don’t want to call you ‘Wilby’, oh my fucking go—”

Wilbur crooned as they stepped into the garden room, “Aww, Tommy, my little gremlin.”

“Shut the fuck up, Wilbu—”

“B-Back so soon?” you prompted, pretending to have been looking at the potato field with great focus as you turned to face them.

Wilbur turned away from Tommy, the smile sliding off his face. He nodded with a sigh, adjusting the pack on his back. “We almost got to the portal, but Antfrost saw us, so we had to book it.”

Technoblade paused his movements, deadpanning with an unimpressed tone. “Tragic.”

Tommy scowled at him. “Don’t sound so cocky, bitch. You didn’t have to outrun like, half of the SMP all the way back here without getting tracked.” Suddenly his gaze shot to the ground, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “And why’s your fuckin’ crown on the ground?” he muttered, snatching it from the dusty floor and tossing it back over to Technoblade.

“No reason,” you said half a beat too quickly.

Wilbur’s eyes flitted back forth between you and Technoblade, taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and Technoblade’s disheveled hair. Then, a sly, scheming smile crept onto his face. You gulped.

Oh, he totally knew.

“Tommy,” he said, the shit-eating grin still plastered to his face, “how do you feel about going on another trip with me?”

Tommy’s head whipped around, his eyes swimming with confusion. “Another trip?” he parroted.

Wilbur nodded, still smiling. “Yep. Another trip. Let’s get going, yeah? I’ve got something wonderful in mind.”

Before Tommy could even react, Wilbur had grabbed onto the handle of his pack, dragging him back and up the stairs. “Wilbur! What the fuck? Where are we even fucking going?”

“On a trip!” Wilbur sang as he trudged up the stairs with Tommy in tow. Throwing one last glance over his shoulder, he sent you a knowing wink. “You two have fun, now.”

You gaped at him as he walked off, Tommy still kicking at his heels when they vanished from sight. A moment passed in silence before you turned to look at Technoblade, again.

“He knows,” you whispered, half in awe and half in horror.

Technoblade grimaced back at you. “Oh, he absolutely does.”

A beat of silence fell over you. Your eyes locked onto his carmine ones, and something seemed to click just then, a smile crossing both of your faces.

Indeed, Wilbur had just provided you with the perfect opportunity.

Who were the two of you to not take it?

1K notes · View notes

binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

❆on a winter’s day | reader x hyunjin |❆

Pairing: self insert, female reader x hwang hyunjin

Genre: the fluffiest smut

Tags: confident!reader, shy!hyunjin, extrovert!reader, introvert!hyunjin, virgin!hyunjin, dancer!reader, dancer!hyunjin minho and jisung side characters, minsung if you turn your head upside down, slow burn, that sweet sweet build up, first time, meet cute, college au, sexual tension, mentions of food, praising, oral (m&f recieving), marking, fingering (f recieving), protected sex, aftercare, hyunjin is the softest boi in this one

Word count: 4.3k

Requested: By a lovely anon! You can read the original ask/post right before this one!

“and five, six, seven, eight!”

The cool of the hardwood flooring beneath your tired heels squeaked from the movement of twenty dancers throwing their bodies to the left. Each and every one of you were reflected in the mirror in front of you: bodies twisting like the curl of a ribbon and arms outstretched. You winced as your knee hit the ground and you hurled your body into a type of somersault. As soon as you were back on your feet, you bent your spine backwards reaching out as far behind you as you could. For a couple moments, the whole world was turned upside down.

It was then when you saw him. His silver hair was tied up, and his brow glistened with sweat. There was nothing else in his eyes other than pure focus.

It was breathtaking.

one, two, you counted in your head.

Next came the hardest part.

Everyone leapt in sync, creating a resonating thud once you all landed.

Thank God that you landed it that time. To your right, your friend Minho scoffed slightly, likely teasing you for finally jumping at the same time as everyone else.

three, four

The group crashed down to the floor again, this time you had to use all your strength to roll, then pull yourself up without help from your hands. You had been practicing it for weeks.

You could feel Minho’s eyes boring into you while you attempted.

You were able to do it, but it wasn’t nearly as fluid as him. How had you never noticed how amazingly his body flowed?

“and five, six!” Your instructor clapped. The music faded as you all sunk down to the floor again, trying to make it appear as if you were dissipating into it. “Very good job everyone!” She beamed and applauded you all who finally let your heaving breaths be heard. “Excellent improvement from you all!”

You couldn’t even stand up from the floor you were so exhausted. The aggressive florescent lights burned your eyes and you considered taking a nap right there.

“You did it!” A foot kicked you. Looming over you were your two friends Minho and Jisung shoving towels onto each other’s faces. “Were you counting like I told you to do?” Minho expectantly leaned in.

“yes,” You answered a little annoyed, not as much at him, but at yourself. You could have done even better.

“We told you that you could do it. It’s just the mental block man.” Jisung offered you a hand up.

Once you were vertical again, a little wave of dizziness hit you.

“Wanna go out to celebrate?”

Your usual friend group circled around you with their bags in hand.

“Finally got it this time, L/n?” They patted you on the back. Besides hip-hop being your specialty in a contemporary class, you still seemed to get along with everyone easily. On the first day of class when you literally announced that you didn’t want to be there, everyone warmed up to you pretty quickly. You didn’t want to lie and pretend that you were all about throwing your body around like that. Of course you thought contemporary was beautiful, just not your thing. Graduation requirements said otherwise.

“Do you need me to carry you outta here?” Jisung joked at your dazed expression. Truthfully, your head was still spinning a little.

“Only very certain people get to carry me Han Jisung, and unfortunately you are not one of them.” You quipped back, and a few of your friends snarked chuckles at him.

He put his hands up in defeat. “I was just offering.”

Across the room, your eyes found him again. He had put his bag a bit of ways away from everyone else’s. He guzzled down his water, bobbing his sharp Adam’s apple. He then tore his hair tie out and ruffled his hair around which was damp at the roots. Everything that he did was so effortless.

“Hey,” you nudged Minho, “You know who he is?”

“Him? That’s Hwang Hyunjin. I dunno much about him, he’s pretty quiet, I haven’t heard much about him within the school either. Amazing dancer though. Have you seen him?”

“Yeah...”

Hyunjin pulled a black pullover past his head.

“You coming with us?” Minho snapped you back.

“No-uh, I think that I’m gonna stay a little while.”

“Suit yourself, I know that it’s gonna be delicious.” He teased and turned to throw his arm around Jisung while the group walked out.

The silvery-haired boy zipped up his bag as if he was near leaving. Your throat became unexplainably tight. Your legs started moving towards him before you could tell them to.

“You popped up behind him. “Hyunjin, right?”

He whipped around startled, with his gorgeous brown eyes widening. “...yes?”

“I wanted to tell you that I saw you dancing today and you’re really good. It looks like its so easy for you. I wish that I could be like that.”

“Oh...thank you.” He gave you a kind smile.

shit, he was so cute.

“Soooo, what’s your secret?” You attempted to keep him there for just a moment longer.

“My secret?” His eyes became puzzled.

“Yeah, like, to how you’ve gotten so good?”

“I just...practice.”

“Huh...”

The door to the practice room clicked one last time and the two of you were alone.

“I noticed that all of your moves flow really nicely to the next, you’re not stiff at all, it’s like your body never stops evolving with the motions.”

“thank you...” Hyunjin hushed shyly and twiddled with his hair.

“Maybe you could teach me? Teach me how to make my technique better? I’m just so robotic sometimes.”

“...sure.” He hesitantly said with a growing tiny grin. “Like right now?”

“Oh! I mean it doesn’t have to be right now right now, just like when you have some time I was thinking.”

“I have a little time right now.” He began taking off his coat which he had just put on.

“Oh really?” You felt your cheeks get a little warm. You certainly weren’t expecting him to say yes so quickly.

“Do-do you have time?” He worriedly asked.

“--Yeah!”

“Okay...let’s get started then.”

✦✧✦✧

The music from Hyunjin’s phone echoed over the speakers and you attempted the twirls again. You were able to execute the timing, but each one felt more inelastic than the last. God, your whole body was aching to stop, but it couldn’t get enough of the feeling of him watching you and observing your every movement.

“What should I change about it this time?” You struggled to take in breaths.

Hyunjin looked you up and down, with that same focus from before. With someone as picturesque as him, he looked a little stern when he examined you, which scared you a little, but excited you at the same time.

“You need to take the strain out of your hips, they’re geting in the way you need to let you whole body fall into it. Focus on your legs. Like this:”

He spun in front of you with his leg pointed out. With the twist of his body his silver hair swept along with him.

“You know what I mean?” He gently asked.

“--yes, I think so.”

“Your hips are your anchor, but don’t let them stop you.” Hyunjin stepped up closer to you, hesitantly going to grab your waist with his hands. It was then when you realized how big and powerful they were. His sudden gesture made your heart beat even faster than it already was.

“Pivot like...this.” He turned you a little to the left.

“Oh.”

He lead your hips into the pivot a couple more times to show you. His hands were so warm.

He quickly removed his hands, embarrassed, like he had been doing something he should not have been. He walked away from you and you took notice of his shoulder blades curving under the thin fabric of his sleeveless shirt.

“Do you wanna stop now? I think I’ve done as much as I can for today.”

He nodded and removed his phone from the sound system.

✦✧✦✧

Outside of the arts building, snow had picked back up again after flurrying the whole night long. Everything around had been covered in a beautiful blanket of white.

“Well, I’m headed off this way.” You head nodded to your bus station a couple blocks down. “Thank you for helping me by the way.”

“For sure! I...liked helping you out.”

“Really?”

Hyunjin immediately made a startled little face upon realizing what he had said and you laughed a little at him.

He pulled his chunky scarf up higher to his chin. “Actually...I um, live down that way too.”

“Do you take the 12 bus too?”

He nodded. Little snowflakes had begun to get caught in his hair like a little halo.

“Well then let’s get going! We don’t wanna miss the last bus!”

✦✧✦✧

It was rush hour, so naturally the two of you had to stand on the bus of packed people. The air inside was chilly and it smelled of old dusty coats that had just recently been taken out for the fist snow. You thought it was a little funny how every five seconds or so someone would sniffle in there.

“I’ve seen you in class too.” Hyunjin finally said something after a while of you two being pushed pretty close next to eachother. “Dancing and other stuff, everyone really seems to like you, you’re really good at making people laugh.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You didn’t quite know how to respond to him. “I don’t really have a problem putting myself out there much, I’ve always really believed in just being me, you know? And not letting others determine who I am around them. That or maybe I just like the sound of my own voice.”

He giggled a little then pulled the string nearby the window.

stop requested. The robot bus voice said.

“You’re not stalking me or anything are you?” You rose an eyebrow at him, which scared him more that you had expected.

“No..? What do you mean?”

“This is my stop too.”

Your boots crunched into the snow of the side walk and you thanked the bus driver. Hyunjin got off after you with his hands in his pockets. The two of you stood there in the snow for a moment, something weirdly unsaid lingering between the two of you. Something felt unfinished but you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He genuinely was so sweet, you sneakily wanted to be around him for just a little longer.

Hyunjin stammered, but confidently got out, “Do you want to get something to eat? Right now?”

It was if he had read your mind. You were glad that he had asked, and a little surprised too. He waited attentively for you to answer, still looking a little nervous; even looking like that he was terribly adorable.

“I’d love to.” You smiled back at him causing him to sigh in relief.

“Is there anywhere that you like?” He led the both of you on.

You pondered for a moment, then remembered. You cringed out the words, “Actually...I really shouldn’t be spending money right now; I need to get a lot better at saving...”

You almost slapped yourself in the face after saying such a thing and seeing how crestfallen he had become. It was true, but technically he didn’t need to know that.

“Or! I mean, we could go to my place and I could I dunno, whip something up? I should have something...”

“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to be eating away your food.”

“No really! It’s fine, come on, I’m just down this block.”

✦✧✦✧

It was only seconds before you opened the door to your apartment that you remembered how embarrassingly messy it was. You and your two roommates were the best of friends, but horribly matched when it came to being cleanly. The three of you just chalked it up to you all being “creative minds.” You all went to arts school after all.

“Just...don’t look--sorry, it’s really messy in there, I wasn’t really expecting to bring anyone over.”

“I don’t care.” Hyunjin politely said and watched you unlock the door.

“We just call it creative madness.”

When you walked in even you tried hard to not look at the mess and got straight to work rummaging around your cabinets.

“Does spaghetti with sauce sound good?”

He nodded and neatly arranged his coat, shoes and bag at the door.

He wandered over to the large windows of your living area. “You have a really nice view.”

“Ah thanks,” You clicked on the stove. “Makes the price of the rent worth it,” you lowered your voice “fuckin’ swindlers.”

Your eyes wandered to the island in your kitchen full of all kinds of crap: baking supplies, art supplies, old mail, textbooks, mismatched pairs of gloves.

“It would probably be best if we ate in my room,” You let up. “You can barely sit here.”

Hyunjin nodded and turned to keep watching the snow peacefully. While you cooked, he didn’t say much but you couldn’t keep his eyes off of him, nearly burning yourself on the saucepan. He changed the room by just merely exisiting in it. You truly couldn’t imagine how you had never noticed him before.

✦✧✦✧

“Thank you for cooking for me, that was really good.”

You waved his compliment off with the swipe of your hand. “It’s really nothing, you should see my roommate, she’s a culinary science major. Wait! Let me go get something real quick.”

You smiled at your little surprise and shuffled back to the kitchen, putting the two little raspberry and chocolate cupcakes on plates with equally little forks.

“Ta-da! These are to die for. I wish I could take the credit; these are just one of the benefits of having a roommate that’s constantly experimenting.”

Hyunjin took in a careful bite and his eyes widened into moons.

“I know right!? She’s a genius.”

Silence filled the air between you as you ate more. You couldn’t help but feel so completely and utterly cozy in the moment. The sun had nearly set and you had set your heater up in your room along with some Christmas music to softly play in the background. The only regret that you had was the candle you had lit which was just a little too sweet. You started to wonder after you two had finished, what would happen next? Would he leave? Greedily, a feeling seeped into you like before, you still didn’t want him to leave.

“That was amazing.” He placed his plate down.

“You know what?” Your brash confidence pushing through once more. “Your hair, the silver, it’s just so pretty. I can’t stop looking at it.”

He instantly became flustered. “Oh...thank you, I’ve been thinking about dying it like this for a really long time now and I finally did it. It sounds kinda dumb, but I didn’t wanna do anything that would draw attention to myself.”

“...can I touch it?”

Hyunjin looked a little shocked, but eagerly nodded.

You started by thumbing through some of the longer strands towards his shoulders: it was just as soft as you imagined. You then started from the top running your hand all the way down, admiring the way that it looked like it shimmered a little. You had gotten so caught up in him that you didn’t notice that he had closed his eyes.

“pretty.” You cooed.

“Y/n?” He suddenly asked.

“Hmm?”

“Is it weird to say that I feel like really comfortable around you? Is that weird?”

“No, not at all.” You continued running your hands through the silver strands, somehow you had leaned in a lot closer to him than you had been before.

He looked at you with his doe-like brown eyes. You could have sworn that they were glistening. Your eyes fell a little lower to his lips, they looked wonderfully kissable and plump. From that moment your brain furiously wondered what they tasted like. His eyes fell a little too.

He leaned in first, catching you completely off guard. He kissed you so carefully and gently, his mouth parted just slightly; it was heavenly. You could still taste the chocolate and the raspberry on his lips. He sighed a little into your mouth like he was relaxing himself. In many ways, the way in which he kissed you made you feel like he cared for nothing else in the world, just you. Your cupped his face in your hands, tracing your thumbs against his jawline.

That was it. You were absolutely crazy for him.

You broke for a moment and he turned into a huge, rosy, smiling mess. The two of you giddily giggled at how happy you were over what had just happened. You shuffled your own plate off the bed to silently invite him to lay down which he did obediently. Now he seemed less hesitant, but more excited.

You swung your legs around both sides of him and kissed him more on his smiling lips. At this point, you had convinced yourself that nothing in this world was sweet as him. His hands found their way to your back, where he ran his fingers down, making you shiver delightfully at the touch. His hands finally found your waist which he grabbed onto firmly. He pulled you down into him so your bodies were flush and you could feel all of his warmth. Once you were this close, he started kissing you back more wantonly, gasping a little in between.

“You’re so beautiful Hyunjinnie.” You snuck in between kisses. “I can’t get enough of you.”

He let an airy laugh fall into your lips then brought one of his hands to tangle in you hair. All at once, your hands yearned to explore the soft of his skin everywhere. Outside your window the snow still silently fell and the golden sunset faded into the skyline’s horizon.

You knew how excited you had become, where together your hips grinded together. Your head spun thinking about having someone as beautiful as him give your body attention.

Hyunjin broke, holding your eyes seriously. “I-I want to make you feel good. Can I do that?”

“Of course, I would love that.” You melted.

“--But...I think you’ll have to tell me how...I haven’t done this before, sorry..”

The fact that he had shared this with you made him even more adorable.

“Don’t apologize, I can show you everything.” You whispered into his ear with a prideful grin. “But first, can I first help you?”

He gulped, “Yes.”

“I want to show you that you’re worth the attention, you’re worth all of it.”

You helped him pull off his sweater, and then his sleeveless shirt revealing his toned and pale chest, just waiting for your lips. You didn’t want to move too fast however, or risk scaring him.

“Just relax okay?”

You planted kisses everywhere you could: on his collarbones, his stomach and on his ribs, right over his heart. Even from the simplest of touches from you he seemed to unravel.

“You’re breathtaking.” You said onto his skin.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sucking a little harder than you planned, drawing little purple marks against his milky-white skin. He looked like pure art.

“Can I go down a little further?”

“Mmhmm.” He got out, with eyes closed shut trying to control himself.

You slipped his joggers down, revealing his quivering member, which was enticingly long even hidden by his briefs. He had already stained them a little with pre cum.

“oh my god.” you whispered, enamored. You couldn’t wait a single second further.

He timidly watched as you completely striped him, then tore off our own shirt and pants to make it a little more even.

“Tell me stop if you want me to, okay?”

He pleaded with desperate eyes, “Don’t stop.”

First you teased him just a little by running your tongue flat up and down and around his length, wetting your tongue with one hand and slowly pumping. You moved on to then twist around the head which had grown painfully hard. His breaths wavered and he let out little moans in desperation. You took him in at last, bobbing your head steadily.

“ mmm, that feels so good.” Hyunjin moaned out breathlessly.

You kept on, but not for too much longer, you didn’t want him finishing quite yet. He looked a little dejected when you stopped, but you swooped up to kiss him more. You took up his left hand and kissed him all the way up to his wrist and into his palm. His fingertips brushed over your lips, as gentle as one would with a flower petal.

“You want to touch me now?”

“--Yes.”

You unclipped your bra for him and laid back. For this he didn’t need any instruction. He immediately took your breast in his hand, squeezing and and ghosting his fingertips over your nipples; you reveled under his touch. He lowered to suck lightly on the bud, pulling at it lightly with his lips. His teeth grazed you slightly but you didn’t care, you fucking loved it.

“That feels amazing.” You whispered as you watched him. He was sure to give both of your nipples attention.

“I want you.” You said with hot breath. “I want your tongue.”

He looked a little bewildered, but determined after what you had said. He slid down your body, giving you kisses the whole way down like you had done to him.

He nibbled a bit on your thighs. “Tell me how you like it.”

By the second his confidence grew more and more and it was addicting.

You started by rubbing yourself a little so he knew where to start. “In circles, you can go fast or slow, I like both, and you can suck on it too if you’d like.

He lowered, and you swung one of you legs over his shoulder which he palmed into. He started painfully slow, kitten licking carefully; he didn’t know it, but he was teasing the hell out of you. Nevertheless, you whole body began to shake a little with each lick.

“Flatten your tongue out...like that, you can go a little faster, yes...just like that.”

He had closed his eyes and settled into a rhythm, and you dug your heels into the bed. It was astonishing how quickly he got the hang of it. You whimpered out while he continued.

“fuck, Hyunjin--”

He sped up a little, your first orgasm was close by.

“Your fingers, like this.” You held up your pointer and middle together to show him. “Fuck me like that.

He did as he was told, sliding them in with ease over how wet you had become. His fingers were long and slender; addictive. He pumped in and out while your pussy made ungodly sounds. You felt so close you were lightheaded.

“Curl your fingers up, like this.” You showed him again. He continued going fast, taking a hint from your quickened breaths.

You came with white heat, clawing at the comforter on the bed. You only gave yourself a few more moments before pulling him up towards you. “I want you inside me.”

You scrambled with the drawer of your nightstand to rip a condom off from the strand that you kept, tearing it open for him. He was a little flustered, but put it on quickly; he was dripping even more for you. Your lips connected as you laid down, and he aligned himself on top of you. It was then when you saw how pink his chest had flushed. You opened your folds for him, and he started to guide himself in. He filled you up perfectly, and he groaned out once the two of you were connected.

“it’s so tight.” He shivered.

Your fingers latched on to the skin of his hips as you guided him lightly up and down. He buried his face into your shoulder as little euphoric moans slipped past his lips. After a moment, he was able to find his pace, grazing you deep inside. You let him take control as he thrust into you, leaving your arms to wrap around his broad back. You pulled his face over to kiss him, the both of you loosing yourself in the other.

“You make me feel, so, so good, baby,” You hushed into his ear.

He panted, “I-I’m gonna cum soon.”

It took all your strength to flip him off of you, and to land in his lap. He groaned with his hands getting lost journeying all around your body--anywhere he could touch. You took over, riding him and rolling your hips fast with both of your palms flat on his chest riddled with hickies. Like this, you thought that he looked practically angelic. Both of you chased your orgasms together, erupting at nearly the same time, and you ravished in him throbbing inside.

You laughed a little together in sheer bliss and he flinched a little when you slid off of him.

“Did that all feel good for you? Are you okay?” You pecked his nose.

“Yes. It felt like nothing else.”

You stood up, adjusting your frazzled hair and putting on a fresh set of comfy clothes. “Stay right there okay?”

You went to grab him a towel and clean himself off with, handing him his clothes one by one as he dressed. You brought the plates back to the kitchen coming back with a large glass of ice cool water, then offered it to him. He guzzled it letting a little drop fall down his neck.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Do you wanna...stay a little longer?”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

You blew the candle out and dimmed the lights, adjusting a blanket for the two of you to crawl under. Hyunijn followed you under, sweeping you deep into his arms.

Just a little bit longer. You thought to yourself. Stay with me.

698 notes · View notes

imtheasssniffer · 3 years

Text

Rank Romance?

As the first member of your family to go to college. There was a lot of pressure on you. You had known work your entire life, and now was no exception. Your parents hustled, and sent you spare change every month, but that didn’t stop you from having two jobs.

After your first semester of disappointing grades. You realized that the only way to save your gpa was to get a roommate, and relieve yourself of some of the financial burden you were struggling with. That’s where Riley came in. After he moved into the apartment you now shared. You were able to quit one of your jobs and focus more of your time on studies. Riley was, well beautiful. He played on the schools football team, which gave a nice strong build, and an admirable ass.

The first time you met Riley. Was a little awkward, as a timid gay man you usually didn’t talk to the jocks around campus, because it felt a little dangerous. Conversing with Riley was strenuous. You were so unsure of what to say, or feel. But Riley was sweet, for the most part at least. The first day you two hung around the apartment together he said,

“Up high!” Before stretching his arm as vertically as he could, and shoving your face in his pit. At the time you didn’t know how to react, other than to hide the way your dick sprung from the ripe smell of his armpit. He laughed it off, but you thought about it for the next couple of nights. Little did you know this was the sort of behavior you’d grow used to. After weeks of living together you were able to successfully evade any unwanted erections from coming to Riley’s attention. He kept up with his shenanigans. Not flushing the toilet, tea-bagging you, rubbing his musty body on you and even sitting on you once when you were laying on the couch. Not to mention the countless amounts of times he had burped, or farted in your direction, or directly onto your body. It wasn’t all cruel tricks though. To your surprise you two got along well. You and Riley had study sessions together whenever there were tests coming up, and you were both off of work.

Today you two scheduled to study together. You decided to read ahead while waiting for him to get back home from work. You heard the door click open, and Riley walked in. He looked tired, and sweaty. The glistening on his forehead made you bite your lip. You tried not to lust over him, but to live with someone so attractive, and not crave their body was more difficult than not. The way he walked, the way his body stunk up the entire apartment after football practice, the way he was so arrogant yet charming. He was a good friend too, and very understanding. Other than the overall stinky nature of his body, and habits he was a perfect roommate.

As Riley walked it you waved at him, and he smiled back at you.

“These damn exams are killing me man,” he complained as he walked over to his closet You each had a closet. Barely big enough to stand in, but you made do, and put curtains in front of the doors. To provide some privacy in order for you to get dressed.

“Good thing you have such a great study partner,” you joked back sarcastically. Riley laughed a little, and then dissappeared behind the curtain, and after a few moments returned completely naked. You were distracted by your book, but you looked up to the sound of him clearing his throat aggressively. Everything was perfect. A pair of somewhat saggy and full balls hung behind a flaccid yet impressive uncut cock, and a stomach that wasn’t a perfect six pack, but didn’t need to be, because the fat that clung to his bones sat in all the right places. His chest was perky, and muscular further extenuating his big arms and shoulders. Seeing him naked wanted to make you melt into him. You nearly drooled at first sight, but quickly tried to stop before things got weird between the two of you,

“Ew man put some clothes on. I don’t like the way your dick is eyeing me.” You both chuckled, and then Riley responded with,

“What, you don’t like what you see?” He had turned around now. He was playing with his ass. Massaging his cheeks, and allowing his fat to jiggle. You were transfixed, until an all too familiar sound startled you,

PPpPppPFfFfTtTtTt

“Ahh, man I’ve been holding that in all day,” he moaned. Clearly relieved to decompress. In the comfort of his home.

“Great. Can we get to work?” You replied a little annoyed. As much as you wished that fart were ballooning your cheeks, and sliding down your throat. You were genuinely concerned about this test that was coming up. Riley just looked at you and sighed. He moved towards his closet, and just before going in he stopped and pulled his cheeks apart. You stared at his hole. Watching as if almost in slow motion. His hole pulsed, and then slowly,

BBbBBrRRFfTt

The scent was faint, from the distance, but you could tell it was rank. He then stepped into the closet, and got dressed in a pair of briefs, and a pair of tight, short, shorts. When he walked out you eyed him without hesitation. He was looking for his books, and not paying attention to you. After finally finding his study materials, he sat across from you on the other side of your coffee table. You two sat on the floor. It was comfy enough, and provided enough room to spread out all of your materials. Once he settled on the ground you watched as he leaned to one side and,

bbBRrRuUMmpPtt

The fart echoed off the floor. Lasting 5 seconds it was loud, and rancid. It smelt very meaty, and had you been anyone else it probably could’ve cleared you out of the room.

“Sheesh. You’re going to disturb the downstairs neighbors,” you complained jokingly. Riley just laughed and said,

“Bonus points of they’re eating.”

“Ew,” you groaned in response, and tried to get back to the task at hand when again,

ppRrRFfFtTTaAaaRrTtT

You looked at Riley fake annoyed.

“What I’m sorry man. I’m really gassy today, and I couldn’t fart at work,” he apologized.

“Whatever,” you quickly grumbled, before continuing with your lesson.

“So when writ-“

PPpHHhlLaArRTttSss

“Is cutting off our limited study time getting you off,” you said getting genuinely annoyed now.

“No, but I could find myself getting off on cutting off your air,” Riley joked menacingly.

“What?” You asked genuinely confused. Riley then stated,

“I mean my ass your face. My farts your air.”

“Don’t even-“ you tried to get up, but before you could even get on your feet. Riley pounced on you. Wrestling you roughly into submission, until he finally got you in position. He was on his knees. Straddling your face with his thighs, and his crotch reaching just over your bottom lip.

“Ok. Riley get off. We get it. You are more physically athle-“

BbbRrRaaPpPTt

He ripped a gnarly 4 second fart that rumbled on your chest and burned your nostrils.

“Riley p-“

ppPFfFRrRtT

“Stop,” you screamed as you slapped his thighs. You could feel his dick growing over your face in his shorts. The smell had gotten so rancid that you started to cough. Choking on the putrid stench of Riley’s rotten bowels that stunk of spoiled meat, and curdled cheese. No doubt the scent of a college jocks ass.

Your dick was painfully erect. Maybe it was from the lightheadedness, or maybe it was from the complete arousal you felt being pinned between his legs stuck to endure his awful farts. All you knew was that there was no way of hiding the boner that resided behind his fat ass.

PhHHRRrfftTt

“Ahh, sniff it. I love to hear you gag.” Riley began to rub his ass and crotch back and forth. Engraining his stink on your face.

“Fuckk,” he moaned as he placed his hole over your nose.

ppPFfRrtT

His airy little toot warmed up your face quite a bit. You began to gag at the intense stench that lingered over your nose. After retching a few times Riley finally stood up. He stood over you with his feet on either side of your shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. That was too far,” Riley apologized. You could clearly see he meant it, but it was sudden, and kind of unexpected. Riley always did stuff like this. Maybe not this intense, but it wasn’t the first time you had choked on one of his farts. You weren’t even mad. You were just trying to find a way to hide your boner.

“Listen. I’ve gotta be honest. I have a huge crush on you, and the only way I knew how to keep it casual between us was to gross you out, but I can’t do it anymore.” You looked up at him shocked. He had a crush on you? You laughed thinking it was a joke, but when he flashed a look of confusion, you realized that he was being serious. Riley smiled anxiously, and started to nervously laugh. Clearly trying to lighten the mood, as he was unsure of what you were feeling, but you felt the same. Beyond physical attraction Riley was respectful, helpful, smarter than you’d imagine, and yes he was sloppy at times, but it was endearing. Unsure of what to do you didn’t speak, but instead you sat up and rubbed his dick, cradling it in your right hand. It was clearly trying to grow erect, but thwarted by the fabric of his briefs and shorts. He looked down at you with a twinkle in his eyes, and that’s when you knew for a fact that it wasn’t some practical joke. He wanted you, and you so desperately craved him. With a swift movement of your left hand you grabbed at his waistband, and began to slowly pull it down. He stuck his thumbs in the back of his shorts, and helped you to pull them over his voluptuous ass. You let go of his dick, and placed your right hand on the waistband. Reaching further back. You gently rubbed his thigh all the way down to his ankle as you pulled his clothes off of him. Feeling the hair on his legs glide against your hands, and watching as his erect penis shot out of his clothes. Once all the way down, he moved to get his shorts and underwear from around his feet, and placed them on the couch behind you. You simply gawked as his manhood swung, almost hypnotically in front of your eyes. He looked down at you. Riley looked so focused. His gaze could cut a diamond. As he stood straight back up. You stared back into his eyes, and all of their intensity. While staring into his eyes. You maneuvered yourself onto your knees, and knelt over to his feet. Lightly sniffing, and then kissing them. You then traced his body with your hands as you made your way up to his dick. Fully erect, you wanted nothing more than to please him, so you did. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, and began to lick. You heard loud moans come from above you, and you could feel his knees getting weak.

“You know I don’t mind the stink,” you said taking his dick out of your mouth.

“It was kind of hot. I always hid my boner, cause I thought you were straight,” you continued.

“Are you saying my dick stinks?” Riley joked, as he slowly made his way down to his knees.

“Yeah you need to showe-“ Riley didn’t let you finish. He pulled you into a deep kiss. It was slobbery, and wet. You didn’t mind. There was something so attractive about his ability to be as carefree and disgusting, yet make it cute.

Riley pulled away, and looked down at your body. He started to take off your shirt. He was gentle, and sensual. He took his time, and kissed your chest as he pulled the shirt over your face. making his way down your body. He pushed you onto the floor, where you were now laying on your back. With him on top of you. He smiled at you as he made his way down your torso stroking his dick as he inched backwards towards your cunt. With the same carefulness, but more rapid. Riley took off your sweatpants, and underwear.

“You know I never could stand those sweatpants,” he said lightly, smirking at you. He began to stroke his cock again, and he used his now free hand to rub your hole. Spitting on it, and sticking his fingers inside of you. You yelped as he shoved his second, third and then fourth finger in your hole stretching you out.

“Does it hurt,” he mumbled softly. You nodded your head yes, which prompted him to then ask,

“Do you want me to stop?” You shook your head no in response. Of course you didn’t want him to stop. The feeling of his fingers filling your hole, and rubbing your ass was heavenly.

“Can I put my dick inside of you?”

You nodded your head yes, and watched as he slowly moved his member down to your hole. He rubbed it against the outside of your anus. Grinding it up and down. Until he finally slid it in. You both let out a moan, as his dick passed the barrier of your asshole and entered the threshold of your insides. He began to thrust into you. Slowly at first, but he gradually got faster and rougher. You moaned in ecstasy as his pelvis clapped against the bottom of your thighs. Riley laughed as he looked into your eyes. His face was full of happiness. He smiled as he inhaled. Breathing heavy, he held squeezed legs and squinted. Contorting his face in a manner that made you think he was ready to cum, but instead,

bbBlLlSsSPPsStTtssrRrPptT

You came as the fart rang out. The pure stink that Riley had trapped you in as he fucked you was beautiful. It was a loud 10 second fart, and it pushed its way out of his clenched ass. Riley laughed hysterically, which was replaced momentarily by ooh’s and moans.

“Fuckk.” You felt his body tense as he came inside of you.

“Fuuuckkk.” You felt him pull out, his cum followed, and oozed out of your anus. Riley took large breaths, nearly gasping for air.

“They don’t teach you breath control?” You teased. He just replied with a smile, and laid down on top of you.

You could feel his warm sweat melt into your skin, as the two of you embraced on the floor with him on top of you. He was kind of heavy, but you didn’t mind. You found his weight comforting. Not to mention the fact that you were trapped in his musk. His body smelled so manly, and ripe. It wasn’t the last time you two came that night, and it wasn’t the last study date to go rogue

830 notes · View notes

themaribatpit · 3 years

Text

Jasonette July Day 1: Suit Up

EDIT: Written by The Maribat Pit Content warning: Swearing, there is a quote that is a reference to Titans!Jason, references to Chloe’s actions in “Battle of the Miraculous”. Rated: T Inspired by: that one Tumblr post that suggested what would happen if Jason used a Lucky Charm. Prompt: Suit Up The kidnappers had Marinette, and Jason knew that desperate times called for desperate measures. Marinette hadn’t returned home from her mission the night before, Plagg returned that morning without her. He explained that Marinette had managed to free most of the kidnapped kids, but she was captured shortly after being depowered. They assumed she was one of the kids that hadn’t managed to escape.

Jason went from slightly worried to absolutely frantic. Roy was still in rehab, and there was no time to call in the Bat clan for help, it was up to him. In his mind, the more time they wasted, the closer she came to sharing his fate. “Great, just fucking fantastic”, he muttered to himself “the bad guys have the girl you love and you’re here looking for her jewelry”. If he went in guns blazing as the Red Hood, they would probably just kill her instantly and without a second thought. That being said, she would probably kill him later for tearing through the apartment like this. He was flipping the bed on its side, opening all the drawers and pulling out all of the contents. He was trying to find the Chinese Miracle Box, thinking maybe someone in there would help him if it meant saving their Guardian. He remembered a conversation they had when his curiosity about her powers got the better of him.

“So what if you were to, hypothetically, use several of these things at once?” He remembered asking.

“I did once, the Multimouse clones were using different fusions. Wearing them all at once can be pretty draining, even the fusions can be pretty taxing at the best of times if I’m not careful” she explained.

She also explained what happened when her old classmate tried to put on various Miraculous at once and started demanding power from them. Suffice it to say she didn’t get her way. So, by the sound of things, Tikki was his best bet, or he’d probably end up pissing off the other ones like Chloe did.

He found the box in her closet and opened it, to find that Plagg’s ring was missing and so were Tikki’s earrings. He closed the box and pushed it back into the closet, before searching the room for the earrings. She had said something before about Plagg and Tikki being the least suspicious of him. Probably because their combined magic was what created the Lazarus pits, the very reason he wasn’t still six feet under. He finally noticed the small red and black box sitting on the chest of drawers, and he popped it open to find the earrings inside. He wasted no time putting the studs in one ear, before a pink ball of light appeared in front of him. The ball of light turned into Tikki who gave a little stretch and yawn before being startled to see Jason instead of Marinette in front of her. “Hey Tikki, sorry, no time to explain but Marinette’s in trouble” he spluttered, “please I need your help, I wouldn’t be asking otherwise”.

“If that’s true, then there’s no time to waste, let’s go!” Tikki exclaimed, “Just say the words and I’ll help you.” Jason’s mind suddenly drew a blank, as he tried to remember what words Marinette used to transform into Ladybug.

“Bug Prism Power Make Up?” he tried.

“He doesn’t know the magic words?” Plagg asked slyly, “our Guardian’s life is on the line and he doesn’t know the magic words”.

“I know that you’d make a nice chew toy for Brutus”, Jason snapped as he tried to think. “Go go Lucky Charm?” he tried, Tikki shook her head.

“Lucky charm usually comes a bit later” she rubbed the back of her head, “keep trying, if Marinette is in trouble, then she needs our help”.

“Okay let me think, uh…It’s Magic Time? Ladybug Up? In brightest day, in blackest night...?” He kept throwing out suggestions, but Tikki continued to shake her head. “Uh, Shazam?” he had to give that one a try at least once, Tikki sighed.

Tikki thought it was admirable watching him at least trying to figure it out, even if Plagg was no help at that moment. It was clear to the little Kwami, she didn’t need to look that hard to know that this boy cared deeply for Marinette, even if he was hesitant to admit it at first. Tikki remembered gently encouraging Marinette to confess her feelings towards him, while Roy and Jason’s brothers took a more…direct approach.

“All right Jason, I’ll tell you the magic words but first,” Tikki told him and they both heard the Kwami’s stomach growl, breaking the awkward silence in the room. Jason remembered why Marinette usually kept a cookie on hand whenever she brought Tikki along, while the faint smell of cheese usually meant Plagg was in tow instead.

“Come on, let’s go get you a cookie” Jason said, “and some cheese for you” he shot Plagg a slightly irritated look. As Jason looked around the kitchen, the only cookies and cheese they had were the cheap stuff. Tikki tried to be polite about the fact that the oreo wasn’t going to cut it, Plagg just turned up his little cat nose at the processed American cheese. “Sorry Tikki, Marinette’s been a bit busy lately,” he told her before rounding on Plagg “what’s your problem?”

“You don’t happen to have any camembert, do you?” he asked, still refusing to even look at the slice of processed cheese.

“Camembert? Who was your last user?” Jason asked incredulously. Desperate times were calling for even more desperate measures, “just hang in there Marinette,” he thought.

Jason wouldn’t be racing over to Wayne Manor if it wasn’t a dire emergency. Tikki was safely tucked away in his jacket pocket, while Plagg was clinging to the hem of his jacket as it billowed behind him. Jason brought his motorbike to a stop just outside the gates, before hopping off darting past Damian, petting a sleeping Alfred the cat in his lap. Right now, he was hoping Alfred the human was baking something that would catch the Kwami’s eye. Sadly, he was not, a note on the kitchen door explained he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Sadly, this couldn’t wait until tomorrow. He opened the kitchen door, the cookies from Alfred’s last batch were stored in a cookie jar on top of the fridge. There was one cookie left, he unzipped his pocket and gestured to the cookie in the jar. Jason reached up and grabbed the jar, before opening it and grabbing the cookie inside. He also reached into the fridge and grabbed the camembert for Plagg. With the Kwami munching on their snacks of choice, he dashed out of the kitchen. Plagg had practically inhaled the wheel of cheese all at once, and glided alongside him. Meanwhile, Tikki clung to the cookie with one hand and the hem of Jason’s pocket with the other.

That morning, Bruce was not expecting to see Jason rushing past him. He wasn’t expecting to see a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie threatening to fly out of his jacket pocket. “Hi, can’t talk now, Marinette needs help, bye.” He called before disappearing down the hallway. Jason dashed past Dick who had just woken up, and Tim was on his way to the kitchen for some more coffee.

“Was that the last cookie?” Dick asked, slightly groggily.

“Oh that had better not be the last cookie” Tim groaned, someone had better be dying if that was the case.

Jason rushed to his motorcycle, and slammed the gate shut behind him before hopping on and putting on his helmet. Tikki was halfway through munching on the cookie, when she gave him a quick rundown of the powers that she would be giving him. Jason knew that the Miraculous granted the user enhanced speed, strength and endurance, he just hadn’t thought there would come a day when he would have to use their power. It was probably for the best that their guardian didn’t choose him when he was 13, for reasons that a bunch of guards were about to find out very soon.

Meanwhile, Marinette found herself in a cage inside a warehouse. There were two men guarding the cage, neither of them knew that Marinette was the girl in the black leather catsuit. They caught her just as the clock had run out on her powers, and they assumed she was one of the kids that had been captured. She was a petite young woman, and they found her dressed in a polka dotted hoodie, shorts and tights. She sent Plagg to go get help, and he had been gone for a few hours now. She was getting increasingly antsy, Jason was probably worried sick about her.

Jason arrived at the suspected gang hideout as fast as could, leapt off his bike and grappled to a vantage point. “Ok, relatively small time trafficking racket. Now where is Pixie Pop?” Jason thought to himself, scanning the area from his vantage point. “Plagg, go find Marinette, and tell her to not transform until I arrive.” Plagg flew out of Jason’s pocket and made his way there. “Alright Tikki, what's the magic word?” The Kwami flew out of Jason’s pocket as he spoke, Tikki glided to Jason’s ear and whispered to him the phrase. Jason repeated “Spots On” and felt power coursing through his veins. It felt like Venom without the addictive or berserk tendencies, pure energy was flowing through him. He felt the uncontrollable urge to pose and move with the flow of energy, doing a flourish of kicks and punches. It ended with him raising his left leg to his head, as if it was a vertical split and slamming it down. “Owwwwwwwwwwww” Jason groaned, “My thighs were not meant to do that.” He was not expecting the compulsive flourishes for the transformation itself.

Jason looked at his reflection in a nearby puddle, he could see he was wearing a full spotted suit and domino mask like Ladybug, yet his leather jacket stayed during the transformation and received its own ladybug pattern. Jason sucked up the pain and pushed onwards to the gang hideout.

Jason snuck in through a vent and approached a large main room, housing most if not all of the guards and their “merchandise” with cages strewn across the room with mostly women and children locked up. He finally sees Marinette, alive but imprisoned in a cage with a few other people in a corner. Jason needed a distraction so that Marinette could transform into Lady Noire. He had to do something to take the attention off every single person in the room.

Jason sighed and thought of a plan, it may not be the most flattering, but it worked and it would not be so threatening as cutting out the lights. He burst from the air vents and landed in a crouch, standing straight and shouting “Halt Evildoers, it I...Red Bug?”

This indeed worked as planned, as every guard, goon and hostage set their eyes on the intruder. The guards began pointing and laughing, “Good, they don't think I’m a threat” thought Jason. The guards underestimating Red Bug was what he needed, so that they would not find him threatening or harm anyone just yet.

Marinette took this opportunity to transform into Lady Noire. She wasted no time and began with Cataclysm, bringing down all the cages and making her way to Jason’s position. Both Lady Noire and Red Bug began fighting the guards, buying the hostages time to make their escape. As the last person successfully escaped the gang hideout, both Lady Noire and Red Bug stood side by side. More of them began to trickle in as they heard the commotion and began to surround the pair.

Marinette needed to think fast, she didn't have much time left after casting Cataclysm. She said to her partner, “Lucky Charm, Now!” Red Bug raised his eyebrow, “Lucky Charm?” he repeated. He suddenly felt the same compulsion as he did during the transformation, his arm suddenly shot upward with the yo-yo spinning. He looked up to see a swarm of ladybugs converge to form...a purse? Red Bug caught the purse with a look of disbelief, Lady Noire looked around the room for a plan to use the purse. Lady Noire got a burst of inspiration and turned around to tell her partner of her cunning plan, only to be greeted by thin air. She was brought out of her stupor hearing her partner yell out “LIGHTS OUT BITCH!”. She whipped her head towards the source of the noise to see Red Bug beating the guards with the Ladybug-themed purse. “I guess that works too” she said to nobody in particular. Knowing she had little time remaining as Lady Noire, she started running for the exit. Red Bug had no issue dealing with the remaining goons. Marinette hadn’t expected Jason to suit up with one of the Miraculous, not that she was complaining. She had expected him to come charging in as the Red Hood, or maybe start by picking off the guards one-by-one. She was surprised, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one, mostly. Since leaving Chat Noir behind in Paris, the fight left her feeling oddly nostalgic. Sometimes she missed fighting alongside a Miraculous user, though Tikki might have something to say about his...unusual use of a Lucky Charm. She walked over to Jason’s parked motorcycle and waited. Within minutes Jason followed suit and walked out the front door of the hideout. A swirl of green light surrounded him as he changed back, and Tikki zoomed over towards Marinette. Tikki nuzzled against Marinette’s face for a moment, before Jason walked towards her. He pulled his girlfriend into a big hug, Marinette is left breathless for a moment as he nuzzles into her neck. He didn’t say anything, but neither of them really needed to say anything at that moment. Touched by how much Jason cared for her, Marinette returned the hug. She stayed in that warm embrace for a long moment, before reaching up and gently patting him on the head. “Let’s go home...Pixie Pop.” Jason pulled away at the mention of the nickname he gave her, and before she could react, Jason began pinching her cheeks. “What did you call me?” Jason jokingly interrogated, while Marinette giggled like an idiot. EXTRA: Jason is sitting next to Dick and Damian in the Wayne manor lounge with two ice packs on his thighs Jason: I don’t know how you do it Dickie, my thighs were not meant to do that. Dick (covers Damian’s ears): Soooo did you and Marinette…. Jason: I literally beat up some guys with a purse today, don’t push me.

#jasonette #jasonettejuly2021 #maribat

139 notes · View notes

squiggledrop · 3 years

Text

Frayed Ends - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 1: No Strings

Part 3: Tying the Knot

Summary: Strings Part 2 -- Spencer and Reader have a friends with benefits arrangement. The only problem is, they both have feelings for each other. After Reader ends things between the two of them they are both heartbroken, yearning in silence for the other.

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Angst

Warnings: crying

Note: The third and final part will be up next Friday! Thank you so much to everyone who left kind feedback on No Strings and asked for a part 2

Spencer walked into the bullpen the next morning, his bloodshot eyes sulking into the deep bags that hung below. He wanted to stay home and just bury himself beneath a mountain of blankets, but he didn’t want to give you that too. He had given you everything. He poured his heart out for you, placing it into your hands, only for you to throw it away. He hated that you left, he hated that you ended things, and he hated that he would have to work with you every day, knowing there was nothing he could do but wallow in his hurt. But he didn’t hate you.

No matter how much he wanted to, he could never hate you. But he sure could hate himself.

He couldn’t let you know that, however. He couldn’t let you know how you destroyed him. How when you stormed out of his apartment less than six hours ago, you took all of him with you. He needed to be strong.

His plan was simple. Avoid you at all costs. It was easier said than done, however, considering your desks were across from one another. He slumped down into his desk chair, busying himself with paperwork, not daring to look up, no matter how much he was itching to spy on the glass doors.

You grasped onto Emily’s hand in the elevator, willing the tears that threatened to breach your waterline to stay at bay. She gave your shoulder a gentle nudge, silently asking if you were okay. Taking in a deep breath, you nodded, breathing out as the elevator doors opened.

You had made your choice and Spencer had made his. All you could do now was focus on your work, and try not to break down every five seconds like you had been doing all night.

When you walked into the bullpen, you saw Spencer hunched over his desk, not even sparing a glance up. You didn’t blame him. He had every right to be mad at you and hate you. You sighed, slowly making your way to your desk across from his.

You gripped the back of your chair, slowly pulling it out in an attempt to be as quiet as possible. After setting your bag down on the ground and pulling out some files, you granted yourself a moment to look at Spencer. His eyes were trained on the documents in front of him, never faltering from their vertical trajectory. He had a slight scowl on his face, his eyebrows scrunched and his lips pursed. You knew him, and you knew he was hurting. The pang of guilt rose in your chest, clawing its way around your throat. Its grip tightened, pushing the tears from behind your eyelids. You cleared your throat, hoping that it would mask the silent tears that trailed down your cheeks.

Upon hearing you, Spencer immediately looked up, only to be met with you avoiding his gaze. Your head was down, causing your hair to drape around your face, hiding it from him. He scoffed before aggressively shoving his chair back.

“Spen-,” you choked out at his abrupt movement. But, before you could finish, he had walked away, not even sparing a glance back at you. You sighed in defeat, wiping away the tears that burned your face. Fine, you thought to yourself, if he wants space, he can have space. He can have whatever he wants. The sad part of that was, you knew Spencer could have whatever he wants, and he had made it abundantly clear that it wasn’t you.

Spencer was bubbling with rage, fueled by the pain he was trying to quell. How dare you waltz in here and sit across from him as if nothing happened. You were the one who left. You were the one who said it was over. Spencer ran his hand across his face in frustration as he approached the kitchen. His feet faltered at the doorway, however, when he heard hushed voices coming from within.

“What’s up with (Y/l/n)?” Derek asked. Spencer felt his heart stop at the mention of your name. She broke my heart and wants to pretend that nothing happened is what’s up, he thought in spite.

“She said things ended with this guy she was seeing,” Emily said, sympathy lacing her voice. “She came to my place crying last night, and she didn’t stop until the car ride this morning”. A frown made its way across Spencer’s face at Emily’s hushed words. Despite how much pain he was feeling, it hurt, even more, to know you were upset. He still loved you, no matter how hard he tried not to. Spencer took a deep breath, finally walking into the kitchen.

“Hey kid, what’s up?” Derek asked, turning away from Emily.

“Coffee,” he smiled weakly, motioning towards the cupboard. Emily and Derek nodded as they began to make their way back to the bullpen.

“Did (Y/n) say who this idiot is?” Derek inquired, “Because if I need to go pay someone a visit, I will.” Spencer rolled his eyes as he grabbed a mug.

“No,” Emily replied with a shrug. “But she said she still loves him, so I don’t think a visit is necessary,” she smirked. Both Emily and Derek turned around, hearing a loud crash on the counter.

“Reid, you okay?” Emily asked. Both she and Derek looked at him with concern as his hands fumbled to pick up the mug.

“Y-yeah, um,” he said, placing it down on the counter, “w-what exactly did she say? A-about the guy-- the t-the guy she loves?” He looked at them with eager eyes, and he could feel his head buzzing.

“Not much else,” Emily sighed, slightly confused as to why Spencer was so interested. “She said she loves him but she can’t be with him, and she was really distraught so I didn’t want to push her any further.”

“Oh o-okay,” Spencer nodded, “thanks.” He brushed past both of them, hastily walking back to his desk.

“Your coffee…” Emily called out, but it was no use. Spencer’s head was spinning, and all he could hear were the thousands of thoughts consuming his mind. You loved him. You still love him. He wanted to run up to you and just kiss you. He wanted to forget everything and just hold you. But, one of the downsides of having an eidetic memory, is that he can’t just forget. He can’t forget the pain in your eyes when you told him you guys were over. He can’t forget the countless hours he spent crying over you, and apparently you him. He wants to be with you, but he doesn’t think he could handle another rejection.

He sits back down at his desk, causing you to look up. You open your mouth, about to say something, but you think better of it. You already put him through so much, and he doesn’t deserve to be strung along. It’s best that you just let him be.

The rest of the day drags on, both of you averting your eyes, trying your best to ignore the other. With every tick of the clock, the silence becomes less deafening. The chattering hum of the office slowly filling your senses. For a moment, you almost forget about the person on the other side of the desk. But just for a moment.

Out of habit, when something Spencer was reading reminded him of something he read in a journal last week, he looked up, wanting to share it with his best friend. You gasped, looking up at his sudden movement, the normalcy of it all washing over you. Spencer opened his mouth, but you could see the gears turning in his mind, as he remembered who he was looking at. His lips rejoined, forming a faint frown as you both sat there, looking into each other's eyes for the first time since you told him to try to forget you.

In the split second that you hold each other's gaze, all the emotions from the previous night come flooding back. You could still feel Spencer’s hands gripping your skin, his hot breath on your neck as he moaned that he loved you. But, you could also feel the anxiety coursing through your veins at the thought.

Spencer could still feel the way your thumb would brush against his cheek as he looked into your beautiful eyes. The sound of you moaning his name and how soft and warm your skin was still replayed in his head. Looking into your eyes, he could feel all of his love for you grow. But, with every ounce of love he felt, it was followed by a cascade of doubt and betrayal.

Just as palpable as the love between both of you was, the fear and pain pierced it just the same. The uncertainty of the moment held you both, stuck in between wanting to just let go and come together, but also wanting to run and hide. The dreadful reality being, that whether your hearts collide or grow further apart, they would still shatter nonetheless. You were two oppositely charged atoms, attracting one another. When you are apart, you are drawn together, the pull undeniable. But, when you get close enough, one of you will be ripped apart so the other can survive, and neither of you were prepared to do that to the other.

Quickly, you both looked down, dread and regret consuming you. Spencer got up to finally make himself a coffee, fearing he would burst out in tears if he stayed any longer. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t look at you and pretend that he’s fine. He knows you aren't either, but that doesn’t change anything. You were the one to tell him to forget about you. But what you didn’t understand was that he couldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes, trying to escape the reality of you in his life, he was only met with you clouding his dreams. You were everywhere, and even if he could, he’s not so sure he would want that to change.

Watching Spencer walk away for the second time today was too much. Once he was out of sight, already feeling tears trickle down your face, you wiped them away, heading straight for the bathroom. You closed the door behind you, locking it before you sunk to the ground. You gasped, trying to hold back the boulder of sobs that had been building in your throat throughout the day. You wished so badly that you could just give in. You wanted to fall into his arms. But you couldn’t. Instead, you found yourself constantly falling to the ground, choking back tears for a man you loved with your entire being. But he could never know that.

When Spencer makes it to the kitchen, he lets out an aggressive sigh, roughly turning on the coffee maker. His fingers grip the edge of the counter, the pain from his white knuckles a welcomed comfort from the pain that had been throbbing in his chest all day. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, letting his tears fall freely. When he opened them, he reached for the mug from earlier that still sat on the counter. With shaking hands, he picked it up, looking at it and letting out a pathetic whimper.

He rubbed his thumb across the slightly worn decal on it, and a weak smile graced his lips. You had gotten this mug for him a while back. The team was away on a case and the precinct only had paper coffee cups. After ten days working on that case and it still not being over, you had joked with him that he had probably deforested an entire country by that point. The next morning, you had walked in with a ceramic coffee cup, with the words ‘Best Grandma’ written on it. You had smiled, claiming it was the only one the pharmacy across from the hotel had in stock. Spencer smiled nonetheless, grateful you had thought about him. That night you two slept together for the first time, starting the whole arrangement.

Spencer admired the mug through glossy eyes, reminiscing on all of your memories together. Sure, you weren’t perfect, but to Spencer, you were the most beautiful, funny, and caring person he had ever met. He loved you. There was no denying that. He loved you, and he wanted his friend back. He would wait for you as long as it took, even if it was forever.

Placing the mug down on the counter, he grabbed a second one from the shelves, filling them both with coffee. He filled one with cream and a spoonful of brown sugar, just the way you like it, before filing his with a Spencer approved amount of sugar. He picked up both mugs, taking a deep breath before he walked back into the bullpen.

When he reached your desks, he noticed you were missing. He sat down, placing your mug on your desk. He nursed his drink, pretending to focus on paperwork as he waited for you to return.

After a few more minutes, he turned, hearing the door to the bathroom swing open. He watched as you slipped out. Despite your best efforts to keep your head down, he could see the red splotches that surrounded your bloodshot eyes.

You slid back into your desk chair, your eyes focused on the ground. At first, you didn’t notice the mug on your desk, but the smell of coffee slowly wafted over. Hesitantly, you looked up, seeing the cup of coffee. Spencer peaked above his mug, looking back down so you wouldn’t notice. You did, however. You noticed everything about him. A shy smile crept over half your face, and you picked up the mug, cradling it in both your hands. You brought it up to your lips, taking a small sip. Spencer did the same, both of you glancing at the other from behind your mugs. Although the other couldn’t tell, you both had a slight smile on your lips. You placed the mug back down, Spencer following suit.

You didn’t speak for the rest of the day, but it was a comfortable silence that fell over the two of you. The sound of your beating hearts mixed with the flipping of pages and the scrawling of pens, melding into the gentle buzz of the office that filled the room. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. You may no longer be tangled in each other, but you were closer than you were at the beginning of the day, and that was enough.

-----

tagging people who asked for a part 2: @bugg-zee

304 notes · View notes

polaroid15 · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump day 20 - Betrayal

Summary: “How bad?” Tony asks.

“Not bad.”

“Pete-”

“I’m serious! I’ve gotten ten times worse as Spider-Man.”

When Tony looks at him, it’s gentle, and it nearly brings him to tears. “But you weren’t Spider-Man, buddy.”

Or, Peter just wanted a coffee.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138196/chapters/72739866

------

It’s not everyday that Peter is pistol whipped in the face by a Starbucks customer.

Today, however, is that day.

He’s at the front of the line, finally, and just as the cashier hands him his change a man wearing a crudely cut ski mask shoots two bullets into the ceiling. Everyone screams, ducks, and through the mass panic Peter hears his handful of change roll across the floor.

“Are you kidding me-”

“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND!”

Peter listens, trying his best to keep calm as he assesses his surroundings. The store has six customers and two employees. Another masked individual joins the first, also holding a gun.

That they’re not afraid to use, apparently.

Slowly and praying not to draw attention, Peter’s fingers close around the watch Tony had given him for his birthday and presses the side button three times. He’s only used the distress signal once before, and Tony had been at his side to help within a matter of minutes.

These idiots won’t even know what hit them.

The first man crosses behind the counter and shoves his gun into the barista’s face. “Open the register.”

For a minute, Peter thinks she’s going to refuse, her eyes set with anger and fear. As if getting the same sense, the man with the gun presses the barrel hard against her cheek and she whimpers. “Now,” he repeats, and she obeys with shaking hands.

Even though she complies, the man steps closer, his trigger finger tensing as the first inch of the barrel practically disappears into her face. Spidey sense screaming, Peter stands carefully, hands outstretched, “hey, hey. Come on man. Ease up. She’s doing what you asked-”

“On the ground,” the second criminal yells at him, spit flying from his mask. Peter freezes on the spot, eyes glued on the trembling barista. For one terrible moment, he’s brought back to a dark alley, his hands pressing down desperately on Ben’s chest.

“The register’s open,” Peter reasons, “let her go.”

“Looks like someone’s trying to play hero,” the first robber sneers. He pushes the barista aside and she falls onto the floor with a strangled yelp. “Grab him.”

Peter doesn’t flinch as the man’s accomplice obeys, digging strong fingers into his bicep and dragging him out of line. His back is brought against the man’s chest and the gun is pressed into his throat. He swallows at the pressure and keeps his eyes trained on the first man, who’s stuffing a duffel with cash.

Outside, there’s sirens.

“Damn it!”

The first man slams the empty drawer closed, throwing his gun out widely, “which one of you called the police?”

Peter almost laughs. Almost. “Are you kidding? You would’ve heard it if someone called. It’s a small room, buddy-”

A sharp pain in his face nearly sends him crashing to his knees. Blood pools onto his tongue but he keeps it there, not wanting to scare the other customers. Through the aching pulse in his head he hears a couple of them gasp.

“Not the time to be smart, kid.”

“Well you’re the ones who decided to rob a Starbucks of all places.”

Before Peter can even suck in a breath, he’s hit three more times, all where the first blow had landed. This time he does fall, and the man kicks him in the ribs for good measure when he’s down. The force of it has him gasping and somewhere in the distance Peter hears a kid crying.

Don’t think about Ben, don’t think about Ben.

“Police are here. Damn it. What do we do?”

Peter hears shuffling as he tries to reorient himself, his head spinning like a top. He only makes it to his elbows before his jacket is grabbed at its shoulder and he’s manhandled to his feet. He sways but stands his ground, wiping the blood off his chin with his sleeve.

“We take him with us.”

Peter doesn’t have the energy to argue as he’s dragged to the entrance by his neck. Through the glass and a rapidly swelling eye, Peter sees a semi circle of police, completely closing off an escape. He thinks he sees a flash of red and gold, too, but he can’t be sure.

“Walk, kid. No funny business.”

And he does, grateful, above everything else, that no one got hurt.

With a forceful shove, Peter is thrown out of the store, the grip on his neck still strong. He knows it’ll bruise in the shape of fingers, that he’ll stare at it in the mirror later and shudder at the memory of the touch.

“Drop your weapons!”

Peter yelps as the back of his knee is kicked in, forcing him to the ground. One of the men grabs his hair, forcing his head back, and sticks his gun underneath his chin. “Make another move and the kid gets it!”

It’s only now that Peter realizes his eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on him. Tony is here, standing on the sidelines of officers, his eyes blown wide with panic before his expression is cut off by his helmet.

He feels too dazed to be relieved.

“Let the kid go!” he hears one of the officers yell.

“Let us go!”

Peter chuckles again, and he’s not sure why. He feels warm blood dribble down his chin, and the grip tightens in his hair until he’s sure it’s going to be pulled right out of his scalp.

Whatever the men holding him had thought this was going to go, it must not be working, because one of the hisses a “get up” in his ear. Peter tries to listen, but he feels shaky and weak, and mostly just lets himself be dragged. He ends up back against the man’s chest, the gun pressed so forcefully into his temple that the opposite side of his head nearly touches his shoulder.

Only now does he let himself be afraid.

He could die.

Not as Spider-Man, not as a hero, but as himself. Right now. At Starbucks, of all places.

In front of Tony.

His mentor would never forgive himself.

“Walk,” the man hisses in his ear, and Peter stumbles obediently along with them as they step away from the door. The police follow them with their guns but otherwise don’t move.

“Where are you going to run?” Peter chokes. “It’s already too late.”

“Shut up.”

“There’s no way out of this.”

“I said shut up!”

Peter gasps when his head is hit again, his vision whitening at its edges. He must slump because the man struggles to keep him vertical. Somewhere in his fall Peter hears a familiar blast of repulsors and the hostile touch leaves him instantly. He falls to the cement, barely managing to catch himself on his elbows.

There’s a sudden rush of movement and Peter winces at the sheer loudness of it all. He hears muffled curses, boots hitting the pavement, the hostages inside the store cheering-

“Peter?”

And then there’s Iron Man, crouched down beside him and lifting up his chin gently with a metal-clad hand. Peter blinks away his double vision and musters a weak smile. “Hey man,” he wheezes, “coffee break?”

Tony doesn’t laugh like Peter hoped he would. Instead, he feels the armour shift under his arms and he’s lifted up, up and away. He jams his eyes closed at the sudden vertigo and lets out a tense breath when they land together on a nearby rooftop. In a second Tony is out of the suit and sitting beside Peter, his hands ghosting over the blood and bruises on his face.

“Concussion?”

“Look at my face. What do you think?”

“Cut that sass, kid. I have enough for the both of us. Anything else hurt?”

“Uh, my pride?”

“Ha. Funny. Now tell me the real answer.”

Peter sighs, and somewhere in the middle chokes on the blood in his throat. It makes his ribs flare and the wince he makes must be enough for Tony to piece two and two together.

“How bad?” he asks.

“Not bad.”

“Pete-”

“I’m serious! I’ve gotten ten times worse as Spider-Man.”

When Tony looks at him, it’s gentle, and it nearly brings him to tears. “But you weren’t Spider-Man, buddy.”

He sighs again and this time it’s easier. He lays down against the pavement in hopes it’ll stop the world from spinning while Tony hovers beside him like a worried mother hen. “Didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

“So let me guess,” Tony says, “you smart mouthed them.”

“Yep.”

“Course you did.”

Peter groans, poking gingerly at his swelling eye. He can barely see out of it anymore, which is highly unfortunate. “I lost my change. And I didn’t even get my drink.”

“Well, you’re alive, so that’s something.”

“Starbucks is expensive, Tony. I was treating myself.”

“I’ll buy you the whole damn Starbucks company if it’ll stop you from getting your face smashed in.”

Peter laughs at this. It makes his ribs burn. “Deal.”

Tony is quiet for a minute. “Feel up for a flight back home?”

Home.

He smiles.

“Only if we can pick up a coffee on the way.”

“Good God, kid. Look at these grey hairs. No seriously, I want you to look at them.”

Peter huffs out a laugh, head lolling slightly as Tony pulls him back up by his arms. Before they lift off, Peter is surprised when Tony wraps him in a hug. He blinks, then relaxes into it. It feels as if some of his pain is leaking into Tony.

He feels better.

“Thanks for coming,” he whispers.

Tony pulls away, ruffling his hair softly, his scalp still sore. “How couldn’t I? You were smart for once in your life and actually used the panic button I gave you-”

“Smart enough for a coffee?” Peter smirks, a cut on his lip stinging.

Tony looks at him solemnly and shakes his head.

“Grey hairs, Pete. Grey hairs.”

#febuwhump #febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday20 #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #irondad fic #hostage situations #hurt peter parker #gun violene #protective tony stark #protective peter parker #peter parker whump #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #tony stark acting as peter parkers parental figure #hope you enjoy! <3

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i-got-these-words · 3 years

Text

Short Midnight Drabble ~

[Content warnings: Excessive drinking; dubious consent; victim self-blaming; jealousy; explicit sexual content; explicit language.]

The rhythm in his head had but one name. Tequila.

Guan Shan winced as a shooting pain lanced through him, striking dead centre in the space between his eyes like a rusty nail trying to screw its way through his skull. His heavy and only-somewhat-cooperative tongue rolled around a tart curse that would have had his mom smacking him upside the head and scolding him six ways to Sunday.

Fuck a cheese grater. Where was he?

Prying his eyes open, Guan Shan squinted into the dimly lit room, thankful that someone had had the foresight to draw the vertical blinds closed. The scintillating shimmer of a spring dawn spilt through the narrow gaps, casting the room and its slumbering occupants in hues of cerise and new beginnings.

Guan Shan didn’t recognise them, and he sure as fuck didn’t believe in new beginnings. Or second chances. He was forced to clench his teeth against a wave of nausea when he tried to sit up, his body stiff and protesting. He took a few steadying breaths through his nose as the rusty nail asserted itself once again, burrowing deeper and laying claim to his alcohol-addled brain.

The room was littered with the usual post-party detritus, but in place of ransacked snack bowls, disposable red cups and crushed beer cans, there were half-empty food platters, fully empty champagne bottles and a slew of personalised confetti.

It came him to then—Jian Yi and Zheng Xi’s engagement party.

He instantly regretted coming. Then, just as quickly, felt bad for even thinking it; Jian Yi was the closest thing Guan Shan had to a friend, even if Guan Shan would never admit it. But then he remembered how, in the face of his hesitation, Jian Yi had assured Guan Shan that he wouldn’t be attending. After all, he was halfway across the globe and had already sent his apologies and felicitations in the form of an outrageously luxurious RV disguised as an engagement gift.

Shit.

Guan Shan needed to get out of there.

He took his time levering himself to his feet, swaying a little as the room spun. Gingerly, he lumbered past the handful of dozing guests, most of them more scantily dressed than they had been at the beginning of the party, limbs twisted around a partner—or partners—a piece of upholstered furniture, or a bottle of top-shelf liquor.

The air was thick with the scents of warm, canoodling bodies, an eye-watering floral fragrance someone had drenched themselves in the night before and the lingering traces of eau de fuck mist. Wrinkling his nose, Guan Shan scowled at the thought of partygoers going at it right there in the living room whilst he was passed out drunk on the couch. What happened to having some goddamn decorum?

Meandering out into the hallway in search of his chukka boots, Guan Shan rubbed his temples and wondered if it was too early in the day for the Sunday trains to be running. He considered getting an Uber back to his place, but he was trying to save up—for a wedding gift, a fucking suit because the one he owned was only fit to be worn at funerals, smart shoes that hadn’t been bought at a thrift store, and a round or two of over-priced drinks at the joint bachelor bash Jian Yi was already twittering about.

Fuckin’-A. He’d need to budget more tightly than he already had been, but he consoled himself with the option of selling the suit and shoes second-hand post-wedding and making up for the difference by picking up a few more shifts at the restaurant.

And making do with less than three hours of sleep a night.

Putting his monetary worries to one side, Guan Shan spent the better half of a minute getting tangled in the loose end of a congratulations banner that had come half-undone from the wall. As he passed the kitchen, he caught the time on the microwave’s digital display: five fucking am. The first train wasn’t due til half six.

Mood souring, Guan Shan ran a frustrated hand through his shorn hair, a little stiff and sticky from the product he’d fingered through it last night. His stomach lurched when he noticed the wretched bottle of jalapeño-infused tequila on the breakfast bar and he wondered why he’d thought drinking himself to oblivion would be a good idea. Not only had it been one of his more foolish decisions, it hadn’t even fucking worked.

Guan Shan could remember, clear as day, how his mouth had dried up and his heart had dithered like a fucking damsel in distress when he’d spotted He Tian sauntering through Jian Yi and Zheng Xi’s verdant backyard. With his signature cocksure swagger, He Tian had garnered the attention of many a guest sprawled on rattan garden furniture. Guan Shan had envied them their insouciance as they sipped chilled champagne from sparkling glasses and got their fill of a fabulous ass furnished in dark denim. Guan Shan, on the other hand, had ensconced himself in the kitchen in an attempt to avoid crossing paths with his ex.

That, too, hadn’t fucking worked.

With an hour to kill, Guan Shan found himself in the guest bathroom, splashing his face with arctic-cold water in the hopes that it would chink away at the haze of his hangover. In anticipation of having overnight sojourners, Jian Yi or Zheng Xi—more likely the latter—had stacked a pile of sealed toothbrushes and bottles of mouthwash on the window ledge.

Guan Shan felt marginally human after he’d scrubbed his teeth and freshened up. He chanced a look in the mirrored cabinet above the sink and grimaced. His rose gold hair, which had been a deliberate mess of spikes at the beginning of the night was now nothing short of a grooming disaster. His cheeks were flushed from the cold wash, masking the dusting of freckles on his face that bloomed and waned with the seasons. Normally a blazing liquid copper, his eyes were a dull brass, tarnished by too many shots and not enough winks.

The mouth-watering aroma of morning coffee wafted through from under the bathroom door and Guan Shan hoped whoever was up was brewing it strong. He was downing a couple of Advil he’d filched from the small cabinet when he noticed a bruise peeking out from the collar of his shirt. He leaned closer to the mirror, trying to get a better look.

Motherfucker. It was an honest-to-fuck hickey.

As his already-shit mood took a nosedive, Guan Shan ground his molars, the flush on his cheeks deepening with anger. Who the fuck had put it there? And when? Guan Shan couldn’t remember making out with anyone last night and, given that he was fully clothed sans shoes, the necking session had probably not gone past first base.

Probably.

Had he been so blitzed out that he couldn’t remember letting someone suck a bruise on his person? Fuck.

Fuck!

Guan Shan’s ire took an ugly turn. He shouldn’t have put himself in that fucking position. He should’ve known better. Seeing He Tian had fucked him up and Guan Shan had responded by getting shitfaced.

Eyes stinging, Guan Shan swiped viciously at his face with another palmful of frosty water. Just as he turned to the toilet and unzipped his fly, the bathroom door swung open.

He Tian paused in his stride to blink at Guan Shan. Then proceeded to make his way to the sink.

“Do you fucking mind?” Guan Shan growled, ignoring the way his insides squirmed at the sight of a sleepy-looking He Tian: softly tousled locks, a rumpled silk shirt and black boxer briefs that were so tight his dick was one cough away from indecent exposure.

Opening the cabinet and rummaging through the contents, He Tian mumbled a curt, “Nope.”

Guan Shan knew he was on the verge of snapping, and he let his anger simmer to a boil as He Tian popped the cap off the Advil container and knocked back a few pills. When he was done guzzling a mouthful of water right from the tap, his gelid grey eyes slid to Guan Shan. He Tian lofted a dark brow and the motion shouldn’t have been as sensual as it was.

“It’s not like you haven’t pissed in front of me before,” He Tian mused. “In fact—”

“Finish that sentence and you’ll be shitting out your own teeth for the next year,” Guan Shan snarled.

A smirk ghosted He Tian’s lips and the challenge in his eyes made Guan Shan’s stupid heart stutter like a gin-soaked queen in stilettos. “—I distinctly recall how much it turned you on.”

The illusion that he had any self-control around He Tian shattered as Guan Shan pivoted on his heel and plunged towards the taller man, fists raised and powered up.

But He Tian was ready for him. He’d always been fucking ready for him.

Guan Shan’s knuckles barely grazed the hard-lined jaw it was aiming for as He Tian swiftly dodged to the side. When Guan Shan brought up his left elbow to ram it into He Tian’s obscenely, perfectly straight nose, He Tian ducked like he was made of liquid and not the stacked muscle Guan Shan knew was rolling under that naturally tan skin. He Tian countered with a friendly jab to Guan Shan’s kidney; it wasn’t meant to hurt, and it didn’t. But it did momentarily surprise Guan Shan and He Tian predictably took advantage of his hesitation.

The bathroom cabinet shook as Guan Shan’s back collided with the tiled wall.

He Tian closed in on him, outstretched arms boxing Guan Shan in from either side and leaving He Tian wide open to a counterattack, one that they both knew wouldn’t come.

Guan Shan blamed his sluggish reflexes on the hangover from hell and, this close up, he could see that He Tian hadn’t come away completely unscathed either from a night of liberal drinking and liberal morals.

His eyes were rimmed pink, half-lidded and weary. His weekend stubble was a velvet shadow that would have taken a younger He Tian a week to grow out. His post-party redolence was a mixture of faded cologne, the spicy notes of celebratory fizz, and a familiar musk that reminded Guan Shan of lazy mornings in bed, sun-warmed sheets, and an intimacy that didn’t involve swapping spunk.

Guan Shan’s throat tightened like a vice when he spied the flecks of dark red on He Tian’s crumpled white collar, and the grisly bite mark on the side of his neck that was responsible.

“I’ve barely said two words to you and you’re already trying to break my face,” He Tian drawled in a voice that was as deep as it was dark, and made all the more dangerous by a disarming smile. “What crawled up your ass this fine morning?”

Read the full fic here: Love Bites and Bruises

#19 days #19 days fic #fanfic #fanfiction #drabble #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #love bites and bruises

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dcforts · 3 years

Text

[week 4: selfie together]

1.7k, post-canon, non canon compliant.

Three days to impact (moving out with Cas and a bunch of hunter nerds settling into the bunker to set up the Network), and Dean was still elbow deep in messy drawers, sorting through his stuff in one of the research rooms. He couldn’t believe he had managed to hoard that much crap when he spent there not more than six months every year.

Sam had already taken care of most of it and thrown away a lot of junk when he had moved away with Eileen a year or so ago, so Dean had thought that he would be packed in less than a day with what was left. He was wrong.

He was tackling a bunch of phones and chargers all tangled up together, trying to figure out which ones were still working. Between him and Sam they had probably gone through a hundred or so phones, without counting the burners, their dad’s and those of other hunters, passed on after their deaths.

You had to keep them on, check the messages, write down the contacts – for a long time it was the only way to keep the network going and to make sure that no call for help would ever go unanswered.

Hopefully the Network, with Charlie fancy digital system and stolen tech from the Brits, would make things a lot easier. The bunker would become the hunter HQ that it was always meant to be. And Sam and Dean would still go there from time to time, but it would become more like a workplace than an actual home.

Magazines apparently said you had to keep them separated and all that. So, they were trying.

He wasn’t even halfway done when he found his old phone. It was not too ancient or anything and he used to like it just fine, but for Christmas Claire and the girls had gotten him a new one (“not for work!!” said the note attached to it) so he had just dumped it in here.

It had no SIM card, but there were some police contacts (useful) and the Candy Crush app (not useful). He went on to check the gallery and was surprised to find still some pictures in it.

He snorted, seeing one of the last taken – Sam, drunk on Christmas Day, a paper crown askew on his head, trying to focus enough to play Jenga with someone who was out of the shot. Dean didn’t remember who it was anymore. Sam had the most incredible face on.

Oh, there were pictures from when they went to visit Garth! He had taken them at Frontier Stables in Frederic and Dean and Gertie had possibly been equally excited about riding a horse. There were a bunch of pictures of that day, including one Garth had taken of him where he looked like an absolute dork.

Wow, they must have been at least a year or so older, he had totally forgotten about them. Now, he couldn’t just put the phone down and resume his work. He debated with himself (very briefly) if he could afford a break or not and then flopped down on the floor covered in cardboard boxes to look through the rest of the gallery.

Most of the pictures were cases related, articles and crime scenes, then a bunch of landscapes, an amazing looking burger from that joint in Texas.

There was one with Cas that he had taken one night. Dean’s face was on the foreground, on the left, and he was making a funny face, his index finger to his lips. The red couch was visible behind his shoulders and Cas was by his side, his face turned towards the television screen and lighted by it.

They had been cooped up in Dean’s cave for nearly four hours and all that time Sam was freaking out because he didn’t know where they were and he couldn’t find them. When Dean had checked his phone, he had found fourteen missed calls and a bunch of texts. He had sent him that picture back and written shh it's movie night.

Sam had come bursting through the door two seconds later and bitched at him for fifteen minutes for having his phone on silent and then stayed and watched Back to the Future III with them.

This was before he and Cas even got together – well, officially at least.

It felt like so long ago, back when they were all: fingers brushing, intense gazing, losing track of time when alone together. They were so clueless.

It had sorted itself out though. A couple of weeks after that, Dean had fallen asleep on Cas’ shoulder and Cas had spent the rest of the night holding him and he had done that every night since.

Dean smiled and scrolled down, back in time.

More photos on the road, book pages, his car against a pretty sunset. Then a group selfie that they sent to Jody for her birthday. Sam and Eileen were still living at the bunker then and Sam was holding the phone, on account of having three feet long arms. They were standing in the kitchen, Eileen right next to him, under his other arm and Dean next to Eileen.

Cas had appeared on the door as they were getting in position so Sam he had told him to hurry up, get in the frame and he had come to stand next to Dean, stiff like a statue. Sam had said, a little closer, so Dean had slung an arm around his neck and pulled him towards him.

Right when Sam had been about to snap it, Cas had grabbed Dean’s hand, that was dangling over his shoulder. So of course, in the picture Dean looked like a total idiot, with his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted in surprise. He had even stopped breathing a little and Cas next to him had the audacity to look totally oblivious. Dean zoomed in on his face and cackled at himself. God, and what was up with that haircut he had, did he even look at himself in the mirror.

He went on.

A few rows below there was another selfie. It was just him this time and it was terrible, the sunlight making the picture look all wrong, like there was a filter on it. It was a vertical shot that showed just about his face and shoulders.

It had been early in the morning, he was bleary-eyed and there was a little wrinkle in between his eyebrows because he had been in the car waiting for Sam to come back with their coffee for twenty minutes.

Cas had texted him out of the blue, Can you send me a picture of you? and Dean had snapped it and sent it without thinking and then he had written, what do you need it for and Cas had written back, I just miss you. Dean had almost dropped his phone, then put it away and not looked at it until late that night. Yeah, it hadn’t been one of his best moments.

Finally he had managed to pull out the conversation again. He had typed and deleted miss you too and same and same, man about a thousand times and then ended up writing your turn now.

He remembered that Cas had been quick to reply with an even worse shot than the one he had sent. Some blurry picture he had taken under a streetlight, his face wearing an intense expression, as if he needed to focus to tap once on a screen. Still, Dean had looked at it for an hour before he had gone to sleep. What a sap.

Thinking of that photo reminded him of another one. He wondered if? It took a while to find it, but it was there, almost at the end of the gallery, right after a picture of Jody in a ridiculous sun hat from when they all went to the beach for the weekend.

It was there. Their first selfie together. He snorted out loud.

He had been pacing in the map room, cursing at his phone that was stuck with the camera open. He was trying everything and it just wouldn’t close.

Cas had come look over his shoulder while Dean had been furiously tapping, and that was when the screen had frozen and flashed and the result of that was a picture of the two of them from the most unflattering angle, frowning down at the phone. Two half faces, Dean on the right, Cas on the left. Dean thought it was hilarious.

Cas had said, “I think you took a picture,” because he was a great help as usual and Dean had said, “Yeah, no shit Cas,” and eventually had to restart the phone to make it work again.

He couldn’t believe that had happened more than two years ago.

“I’m done with the inventory of the herbs. Are you done in here?” said Cas, poking his head in from the hallway. Dean very obviously wasn’t done, but he was still smiling, so Cas said, “What is it?” and came to crouch beside him to peer at his phone and the infamous selfie, “Why did we take this?”

Dean laughed, “We didn’t. My phone was acting up.”

"And you kept it?"

"Yeah, of course I kept it," Dean said, tilting his phone away, as if Cas would jump him to delete it.

Cas had other priorities. He kissed his temple.

"Okay," he said amused, then, "Do you need help? Charlie is coming over in an hour to set up the - cables."

There were no cables. Cas clearly didn’t know what he was talking about, but Dean had no idea of what Charlie was supposed to do either, so.

"No, just - wait, let's take a picture," he said, grabbing his sleeve before he could get up. Cas settled once again next to him and Dean opened the camera and held his phone up, then got his other arm around Cas’ shoulders.

The light was not great, like anywhere else in the bunker and they looked exhausted after a day's work but still, not a bad sight, if Dean could say so himself.

He focused on Cas on the screen, the little smile on his lips.

He grinned. He was gonna spend the rest of his life with that face, he thought. Jesus.

"Dean?" Cas called, after another moment of nothing.

"Alright, alright," he said and snapped the picture.

@bend-me-shape-me said #deancassummerprompts21 and I said YES

#deancassummerprompts21 #deancas #deancas ficlet #fwf #as in finale? what finale?#i couldnt decide on what idea to focus on so i kept them all #incredibly on time for once #i just didn't want to edit it too much cause i like it????#yeah i know weird #it was fun #my writing

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btsqualityy · 4 years

Text

Heaven Sent; Part 5

Jin x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings: None to note.

Author’s Note: I know it’s been a while and I’m sorry! I’ve been busy with college work but here is an extra long chapter to make up for it! I hope you guys enjoy!!

Month five was normal. At least, as normal as you could get. Work was great, Aera was doing amazing, and you found yourself crying much less as time wore on. Yep, everything was good....until you hit month six.

Month six was October, which also meant that it was Aera’s birthday month. When you looked at the calendar one day and saw just how quickly October 7th was approaching, you found yourself almost dreading it because it would be Aera’s first birthday without her father. After realizing that though, you made up your mind right then and there to make sure she enjoyed her day to the fullest.

“Wait, she asked you for what?” Jin laughed loudly, and you reached out to smack his abdomen as the two of you made your way through the grocery store together.

“A unicorn,” you repeated, not being able to help yourself as a small giggle escaped you as well.

“I know you want her to have fun, especially this year, but don’t you think a unicorn would be hard to deliver?” Jin wondered.

“Nope. All we’d have to do is rent one of those mini ponies and put a horn on it’s head. A fake one, of course,” you added, and Jin nodded thoughtfully.

“Of course, because you’re nothing if not ethical,” he teased, making you gasp as you reached out and smacked him again. Over the past month, you and Jin had begun to spend more time together, even when he wasn’t babysitting Aera. You found that he was extremely funny, even though his dad jokes sucked, and it was refreshing to be around someone who didn’t pity you.

“You give in to Little Heart way too much, you know that?” Jin mentioned and you gasped dramatically.

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black,” you laughed. “She’s not even 4 feet tall but all she has to do is look at you and you crumble.”

“Oh please, I’m no weakling like you,” Jin snickered.

“Oh yeah? Why are we here at the grocery store then?” You asked with a smirk.

“I have no idea,” Jin lied.

“Let me help jog your memory then,” you smiled. “Uncle Jinnie, can you please make japchae and samgyeopsal for my birthday food? Please?” You recited the words that Aera had said to Jin not even an hour before.

“It’s what she asked for from me for her birthday!” Jin shot back. “What was I supposed to do, say no?”

“All I’m saying is, don’t make it seem like I’m the only weak one here,” you pointed out.

“Honestly though, how can anyone not be weak for her?” Jin smiled, making you do the same thing. “She’s too precious.”

“Yeah, she is,” you nodded in agreement.

........................................

Luckily, Aera’s actual birthday fell on a Saturday and the weather was pretty good for October so it was the beginning of a good day as you bustled around your house getting things ready for the party.

Per Aera’s request, she only wanted your parents, Hae-il’s parents, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jin, and Jin’s friends Namjoon, Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok to be there so those were the people that you invited. Jin ended up showing up early in order to help you decorate and get the food ready.

“Do you think I have enough cups? And plates?” You wondered as you moved frantically between the kitchen and the dining room, setting the tableware down on the table.

‘Yes, you have enough for a small army in here!” Jin shouted back from his place in front of the stove in the kitchen. After making sure that there were enough plates and cups on the table for everyone that you expected to come, you walked back into the kitchen, having to stifle a laugh when you caught sight of Jin dancing in place to the music that was playing through the small speaker that he had brought with him.

“Having fun?” You asked and Jin glanced at you over his shoulder, smiling evilly.

“Yes I am, in fact,” he chuckled, setting down the spatula in his hand before turning around fully.

“Do you think that I have everything we’ll need?” You questioned and Jin nodded his head.

“You do, and you need to stop worrying so much,” he advised you, making you sigh heavily.

“I know, but I can’t help it,” you whined childishly.

“Dance with me,” Jin said suddenly, stepping over to you while you shook your head insistently.

“I can’t, I need to finish getting things ready!” You squealed loudly, gasping when Jin grabbed your hands in his and began to drag you around the kitchen in a backwards conga line.

“No, what you need to do is relax, so that’s what I’m helping you do,” he smiled, moving quickly and spinning you around before bringing you into his body.

“You make me fall, I’ll kill you,” you threatened him.

“You wouldn’t kill me on Little Heart’s birthday,” he called your bluff. “She’d never forgive you for offing her favorite person.”

“Taehyung’s her favorite person, so try again,” you replied, laughing afterwards at Jin’s wide eyes.

“Damn, you really know how to cut a man Y/N-ah,” Jin huffed, making you smile as the two of you continued to dance together. He used the hold that he had on your hands to guide you, leading you around in a small circle. A loud giggle escaped you when he almost tripped over his own feet and suddenly, you realized that you felt more carefree than you had in months; probably since Hae-il died, if you were being completely honest with yourself.

“You’re still thinking too hard,” Jin noted and you looked back up at him. “I swear, I’m gonna be forced to dip you the same way they do on the dancing shows.”

“Jin, you better not,-” you tried to threaten but you were cut off by Jin wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to his body and then leaning down in a bow. You squealed loudly, bringing your arms up and looping them around his neck tightly to make sure that he didn’t drop you; or that if he did, then he’d go down with you.

“Better?” He smirked and you just rolled your eyes as you shook your head.

“You’re very annoying, you know that?” You told him.

“I’ve been told,” he chuckled.

“Can you let me back up now?” You asked, your eyes narrowing at him when he shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know, you seem pretty comfortable down there,” he pointed out. “Less stressed.”

“I’m worrying about you potentially dropping me on my head,” you laughed. “I’m definitely still stressed.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he replied and you could hear the seriousness in his voice. “Trust me.” He then slowly straightened his body, lifting you back up gently to make sure that he wouldn’t drop you. Once your body was vertical again, you realized that the way you had looped your arms around his neck was now causing you to be pressed right against his chest.

“I should, uh, go finish getting things ready,” you muttered.

“And I should finish the food,” Jin nodded, reaching down and setting his index and middle fingers underneath your chin, lifting upwards so that you were looking up at him. The two of you stayed liked that for a few seconds, just looking at each other, and the rational part of your mind told you that you should do what you said and pull away but you also just didn’t want to.

Jin was extremely handsome, anyone with eyes could see that and it wasn’t lost on you. However, being up that close made you appreciate his looks even more.

“We shouldn’t,” you spoke up suddenly and to your surprise, Jin nodded his head.

“We shouldn’t,” he agreed easily. “But God, do I want to.” His confession made your breath hitch in your throat and you felt your cheeks warm up from embarrassment. You met his gaze, your eyebrows furrowing as you tried to read the expression on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, seemingly realizing the weight that his previous words held. Even more surprisingly, you found yourself lowering your head and shaking your head gently.

“It, it’s o-ok,” you stammered. You then looked back up at him, gasping when you saw that he was starting to leave forward. You panicked for about two seconds when you realized that he was going to kiss you. The grip that you had around his neck tightened even more, and you found yourself inching forward as well.

Just as you could feel the hint of his breath against your lips, Aera’s shrill voice rang throughout the house.

“Mommy!” She hollered, and the sheer loudness of her tiny voice made your arms fall from around Jin’s neck as you jumped about a foot in the air. You set one hand on your chest over your racing heart and the other hand on your cheek, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You then looked over at Jin, who was rubbing his hands over his face.

“I,-” he tried to say but he was cut off by another call of your name from Aera.

“Mommy! I need help getting dressed!” She called. Giving one last glance at Jin, you stepped around him to walk out of the kitchen.

“I’m coming Love,” you replied, using every ounce of restraint in your body to not glance over your shoulder at Jin.

........................................

“Grandma, grandpa!” Aera shouted after you had opened the door, revealing Hae-il’s parents, whose arms were loaded down with large gift bags for their granddaughter.

“I heard someone has a birthday today,” Jin-joo, Hae-il’s mother gasped playfully as she and Hae-il’s father Gun stepped into the house. You shut the door behind them and took the presents out of their hands, moving into the living room in order to step them down onto the table.

“It’s me! It’s my birthday!” You heard Aera exclaim happily and you couldn’t help but to smile to yourself at how excited she was. As you moved to walk back into the front hall, Jin appeared from the kitchen and you didn’t miss the way that Jin-joo’s eyes widened at seeing him.

“Seokjin?” She called out in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Aera requested my presence,” he told them with a smile.

“I asked Uncle Jin to make samgyeopsal and japchae for us,” Aera added happily. “He makes it the best!”

“Even better than me?” Jin-joo wondered with a smile and Aera nodded her head shyly.

“Well, it’s good to see you son,” Gun said as he walked over to him, setting his hand on Jin’s shoulder and squeezing lightly.

“You as well, Gun-ssi,” Jin nodded. Over the next 45 minutes, your parents, Taehyung, Yoongi, and Jin’s friends Jimin, Namjoon, Hoseok and Jungkook all showed up for the party and Aera was in absolute heaven.

“Kookie!” Aera squealed happily as Jungkook lifted her up into his arms and kissed her cheek multiple times.

“Hey, has my baby forgotten me?” Taehyung pouted and Aera quickly lifted her head, shaking it so hard that her ponytails hit her in the face.

“I love uncle Tae Tae,” she told him, smiling shyly afterwards. “But I love Kookie too.”

“Aww, I love you too cutie,” Jungkook smiled as he pressed another quick kiss to her cheek.

“Tae’s gonna be pouting for the next week,” Yoongi grumbled, making you laugh because you knew that it was true. Not too long after that, Jin walked out of the kitchen and announced that the food was ready and that everyone could come eat. Walking into the dining room, you were surprised at how good the food both looked and smelled.

“Dig in everyone,” Jin smiled and that’s exactly what everyone proceeded to do after they sat down.

“Here, have some meat Little Heart,” Jin said to Aera as he brought his chopsticks to her lips, and she opened wide to bite into it. “Is it good?”

“So good!” She nodded happily before turning to you. “Mommy, have some meat!”

“I have some baby,” you giggled as you gestured towards your own plate.

“No, you have to eat it from uncle Jin,” she insisted, making your eyes widen just a fraction. “It tastes better that way.” You then looked over Aera’s head at Jin, who was already looking at you.

“Y/N-ah?” He said and you knew that he was asking if it was alright. You just shrugged, watching as he picked up another piece of meat from his plate and brought the chopsticks to your lips. You accepted it easily, chewing on it thoroughly as both Aera and Jin watched you.

“Good?” Jin smiled and you nodded before swallowing.

“Really good,” you replied, and you swore that you could see his ears get red as he looked away from you. The rest of the dinner passed in relative ease, filled with good conversation and you didn’t miss how well Yoongi and Taehyung seemed to be getting along with Jin’s friends. You were grateful for it because you knew that Aera loved all of them and it would’ve killed her if they didn’t like each other. Your daughter was nothing short of dramatic, but she got it honest.

“Alright, I think it’s time to cut the birthday cake,” you announced once the dining table had been cleared and Aera’s eyes lit up. “Jin?”

“Happy birthday to you,” Jin began to sing as he carried the cake out of the kitchen and into the dining room, and everyone else joined in as well.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Aera, happy birthday to you,” everyone finished before clapping. You helped Aera stand up on her chair as Jin set the cake down on the table right in front of her.

“Make a wish Love,” you encouraged her and she nodded before shutting her eyes tightly. You all waited for a few seconds before she opened her eyes and then blew out her candles. Everyone in the room cheered loudly and you pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before moving forward to pull the candles out of the cake before any of the wax managed to drip down.

“What did you wish for Aera?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah, anything cool?” Namjoon wondered.

“I can’t tell you uncle Hobi and uncle Joonie, it’s a secret!” She giggled.

“But we’re your uncles, you can tell us,” Jimin tried to convince her but she shook her head firmly.

“Uncle Jinnie said that I can’t tell people, or else it won’t come true. Right?” She checked as she looked up at Jin and he nodded his head with a small smile.

“That’s right Little Heart,” he assured her before looking over at his friends. “So stop pressuring my baby.”

“It was just a question,” Namjoon chuckled.

“Him and Y/N-ah sure know how to bite people’s heads off,” Yoongi grumbled and Jungkook snorted in agreement.

“Right?” He agreed.

“Our friends are dramatic as hell,” you muttered to Jin.

“Tell me about it,” he whispered back, making you smile. You and Jin then made quick work of cutting into the cake and handing it out to everyone. Once you were done, you took a second to look around the room and you smiled at the sight. Your parents, Hae-il’s parents, and Jimin were talking to each other as they ate their cake, Aera was perched in Jin’s lap as he fed her cake and carried on a conversation with Namjoon and Yoongi at the same time, and Taehyung and Jungkook were carrying on a heated discussion about what the best video game was that came out in recent years.

Admittedly, you never imagined your daughter’s sixth birthday to look like this but as you looked around at all of the people that had shown up for your baby, it was the first time that you began to feel like just maybe, everything would turn out ok.

........................................

“Did you have fun today Love?” You asked Aera as you pulled back the covers to her bed, watching as she climbed inside before pulling the covers over her little body. It was about an hour after everyone had left, and you had managed to calm Aera down enough to get her in the bath and then into bed.

“So much fun Mommy,” she exclaimed and you smiled.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you replied.

“Mommy?” Aera called, and you could tell from the sudden softness of her voice that something was worrying her.

“Yes?”

“Can I have a Daddy hug?” She asked and your heart dropped a little.

“Of course baby, come here,” you said as you opened your arms and it took less than a second for Aera to sit up and throw herself into your arms. It had been a while since she asked you to hug her the way that Hae-il used to, and you were kind of sad that she felt the need to ask again on her birthday.

“I missed Daddy today,” she whispered and you sighed as you squoze her body gently, the same way that Hae-il used to.

“I did too Love,” you admitted, pulling back and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Is he still sending us love, like you told me?” She questioned and you didn’t hesitate to nod your head.

“Of course. He always is,” you promised her.

“Ok,” she said and she seemed to feel a little better at your reassurance. You helped her lay back down, tucking her in before brushing her baby hairs back away from her eyes.

“I love you Aera,” you whispered.

“I love you too Mommy,” she replied, and you gave her one last kiss before standing up and walking out of the room, making sure to leave her bedroom door cracked open just a little bit.

When you walked down the hall and back into the kitchen, you saw that Jin was still there, washing all of the dishes from dinner and dessert.

“Need some help?” You asked and Jin glanced over his shoulder, smiling gently when he saw you.

“Sure,” he said and you walked over to him, pulling up the sleeves of your shirt as he moved over to give you enough room to stand in front of the sink as well. He continued washing the dishes, handing them off to you for you to rinse and dry them before setting them down onto the counter.

Now that you finally had the quiet time to think (and Jin’s proximity to you wasn’t helping either), you began to think about this morning and what had almost happened between you and Jin. On one hand, you liked Jin. He was funny, he loved Aera almost as much as you did, and he was always there without being too overbearing. On the other hand though, you weren’t sure if you actually liked him because you were attracted to him, or because it had been 6 months since you even showed interest in a man or had one show interest in you.

Also, and what was the most glaring, he was your husband’s closest friend. Not only did you feel like you were betraying Hae-il, you also felt like it was way too soon for you to be trying to move on and if you did, what would that say to how you felt about Hae-il?

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” you confessed gently and Jin looked over at you with a raised brow.

“About what?”

“This, us,” you said and he made a soft noise of acknowledgement.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t either,” he replied and you looked over at him. “I genuinely just wanted to help you and Aera but yet here I am, developing feelings for my dead best friend’s wife.”

“It’s terrifying,” you muttered.

“It is,” he agreed easily.

“I don’t want to use you Jin.”

“You’re not.”

“You don’t know that,” you shot back.

“I know you’d never do that purposely, so I do know,” he replied. “I also know though, that you like me. You may not be sure why, but you do.”

“I do,” you admitted. Jin then pulled his hands out of the water, grabbing a dry towel and quickly drying his hands off before gently placing them on your face.

“I’m willing to help you find out, if you want,” he offered and your eyes widened.

“Jin, I don’t think I can,-”

“I’m not asking you to marry me,” he chuckled. “I’m asking you to explore this attraction that we have between us, together. If it turns out that one or the both us are just attracted to the other because of what’s happened, then whatever. We’ll chock it up to grief and leave it at that.”

“And if it’s not just because of what’s happened?” You asked as you turned your body so that you were fully facing him.

“Then we can be scared together and figure it out,” he smiled gently. You bit your lip as you thought about what he had said, and you realized that you did want to try and figure it out with him.

“We’ll go slow?” You questioned and Jin nodded instantly.

“As slow as you or I need to,” he promised.

“What about Aera?” You asked suddenly.

“We don’t have to tell her right now, especially since we don’t know what’s going to happen,” he told you and you relaxed at his words.

“Ok,” you finally relented.

“Ok?” He checked and you smiled lightly.

“Ok,” you repeated.

“Ok,” he chuckled happily.

“I have one request though,” you said and Jin shrugged.

“Anything.”

“Kiss me?” You asked shyly. “I know we just agreed to take things slow and everything but I’ve kind of been thinking about it since earlier and-”

“Hey,” he gently interrupted you. “You worry too much, you know that?”

“I can’t help -” you tried to excuse yourself but you were cut off by the feeling of Jin’s lips pressing against yours. You squeaked against his lips before relaxing against him and letting your eyes close, reaching out with your hands and gripping his shirt at the waist. After a few seconds, he pulled away and looked down at you, his eyes searching yours.

“Ok?” He checked in, and you slowly nodded your head as you opened your eyes to look at him.

“More than ok,” you smiled and when you thought about it, it really was ok.

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catflorist · 3 years

Text

The Time Being (ao3 / ffn) catflorist Summary: Time-slipping is a side effect of wielding the Rinnegan. When Sasuke slips through time, he always goes to Sakura, whether he wants to or not. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

pt 8: roots

"Your hair is so long now," Ino said, over a quiet dinner at Sakura's apartment. "Are you sure you don't want me to cut it?"

"It's okay, Pig," Sakura said, moving the food around on her plate.

"I'm going to miss seeing that forehead of yours," Ino said, voice bright, but she wasn't eating either.

Silence fell, and the food grew colder. Hime leapt onto the tabletop and pestered Ino for affection.

"Ino." Sakura took a deep breath. "Can you tell Tsunade-shisou and Kakashi-sensei not to worry?"

Ino touched Sakura's shoulder. "Of course I'll tell them."

The next day, Karin knocked at the door, carrying a traveling pack. Inside was a stack of Sasuke's clothes, neatly-folded with uchiwa fans facing up.

"I know a lot of his things must already be here," Karin said. "But I went by his place, and I thought you would like to have these."

"Aren't you coming?" Sakura asked.

Karin wrinkled her nose. "Jugo's found his calling. Suigetsu's students are pretty needy, and they cry a lot as it is. There's also my research. If I leave, I just know someone will ruin my samples." She looked out Sakura's window. "I think this village needs us now. We'll watch over it for you both."

When she visited Naruto, Sakura spoke directly, for his sake.

"I'm leaving, and I don't know if I'll be back," she said, hands folded on his kitchen table.

Naruto's eyebrows knit together. His features were built for joy, and Sakura did not know how to react to this sober expression.

"You're wearing the dobe's shirt," he protested quietly, staring at the floor. "Don't you want some of mine?"

Sakura let out the breath she was holding and sorted through his closet.

"Don't take that one, it has a stain…ouch!" Naruto cried, as Sakura crushed him in a hug.

"Ogenkide," she whispered to her friend. Be well even if I don't see you.

The news broke on the sixth day. Uchiha Sasuke had abandoned his mission and once more cemented himself as a rogue nin. He did not even make it to Suna.

Whether he had made the choice, or the mission's absurd structure led to his failure, Sakura didn't know. The village had what they wanted.

For weeks after, Anbu agents followed her, Team Taka, and Naruto around the village. Sakura would wake up in the middle of the night at the slightest sound––the sink dripping, Hime purring. Her chakra never ceased boiling under her skin, prepared to fight at any moment. But after it became clear Sasuke was gone, and would not attempt anything rash, the Anbu vanished.

Sakura worked without rest to establish her pediatric center. It might be her last contribution to the village, and she wanted to do it right.

A year passed before the center was built, staffed, and operational.

Sakura packed her belongings, mostly her selection of Naruto and Sasuke's clothes, and did not request a leave of absence. She said her goodbyes.

One task remained. Sakura visited the square on her way to the village gates. Facing the council building she built, Sakura understood her mistake. It was impossible to coax deep-rooted, corrupted things to grow into a more pleasing shape. It was better to tear them from the soil and start fresh.

Murmurs of creaking wood filled the night air. The council building ungrew, shrinking back to the earth. In the morning, the citizens of Konoha discovered a tree marking where their government was once seated. This was Sakura's parting gift.

As Sakura resided by the ocean, a young Sasuke appeared, again and again.

First he attacked her, then he pestered her with questions. Finally, he did not want to be around her at all. In the same moment he slipped into her home, he was already moving to slam the door on his way out.

Months passed and Sasuke's visits remained as consistent as the tides. Eventually his anger cooled to resentful acceptance. He did not even bother to punish her door. Sakura grew used to the sight of him sulking outside the house.

Beyond her long hair, Sakura made no effort to hide the uchiwa fan adorning her back. The answers to Sasuke's questions were obvious, if he cared to look, but he was blinded by pain and anger. Even if she told him the truth, he would not believe her.

One night Sakura awakened with a flash of movement outside the window. Sasuke knelt on the beach, curled over himself, shoulders trembling. The sound of his splash as he dove into the ocean broke the quiet of the night. Despite the fire and lightning in his blood, he plunged into the water like he couldn't breathe without it.

Sakura pulled the comforter from her own bed and walked down to the shore.

Sasuke trudged onto the beach. Without meeting her eyes, he accepted her offering. Soaking wet, the blanket comically large around him, for once he looked his age. The water had washed away all his defenses. A tired boy remained.

In his own world, Sakura did not know if he slept well at night, if he ate enough, if he stayed warm. When he accepted her blanket, she shivered in relief. At least in this moment, she ensured he was not cold, and alone.

Sasuke finally accepted her tea, so Sakura knew it was the last time she would see him.

"You know what this is—why this is happening. At least say that much."

Today, he might understand. Sakura decided to answer. "Yes. I know why this is happening."

"How do you know?"

"I know because you told me."

The crease between his brow softened. Sakura bit her tongue to keep from crying, Don't you see? All this time, it's you I've been waiting for.

"Sakura––" he said. As her name dropped from his mouth, he took a step closer to her own Sasuke.

He slipped away. Sakura's role was over. The rest was his to uncover.

Hime darted down the path. Sakura squinted in the sun. A dark-haired figure bent to scratch the black cat between her ears.

The wind ebbed, and the waves quieted. Even the seabirds were no longer crying.

Sakura rose. She thought she would run to meet him, but her feet were roots anchoring her to the earth. It was all too dreamlike. If he were to turn on his heels and depart down the path, Sakura would not feel a thing. She would keep waiting until she dissolved into sand and seafoam.

Sasuke tilted his head to the sea. "Do you mind if I wash, first? I've come a long way."

A breeze picked up, rustling Sasuke's clothes, lifting Sakura's long hair.

"Take your time," Sakura said. "I'll be here."

Sasuke dropped his belongings where he stood. On the beach he undressed and dipped into the waves.

When enough time passed, Sakura brought him a change of clothes. He emerged from the waves without concealing his bare body, and Sakura did not look away. He dried off and pulled on the fresh clothes. Matching uchiwa fans winked on their backs.

He pulled her close, the spell broken. His skin was damp. Sakura buried her face into his neck. Tears came slowly, then they racked her body. She shuddered with a year's worth of sobs.

Sasuke traced her spine. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered. "It seems I've kept you waiting again."

When Sakura kissed him, he tasted like salt.

All her waiting was done. She and Sasuke were once more illuminated by the same sun, swimming through the same pool of time.

In the southernmost tip of Fire country, there was a beach where two rock formations rose from the water. A weathered house perched by the shore, next to a long wooden dock housing a rickety fishing boat.

Seasons did not change in the south, so there were other markers of time––how many repairs Sakura performed on the house, how many seashells Sasuke added to the mantle of the hearth. They trained on the beach every morning, because old habits were hard to break. Tomatoes grew especially well in the loamy soil of their garden.

It was a peaceful life. No one knew where they were. No one was looking for them.

"What are you thinking about?" Sakura asked, sitting on the edge of the dock. A black-tailed gull alighted next to her, peering at their catch of the day.

Sasuke was staring at the blue sky, his long hair tied back. "I haven't slipped in a long time."

"You look a lot like you did, when I first saw you," Sakura said. "It could happen any day now."

"One last trip, then."

Sakura could not say why, but she was certain of this, too.

Sasuke tilted his head back. "The last time Itachi and I saw each other was a day like this."

Sakura watched waves roll under the dock. In a quiet corner of Konoha, a tall stone listed the names of each slain Uchiha. No stone bore Itachi's name. He had no resting place, no marker to commemorate his existence.

Her hands quietly shaped the familiar signs. A column of wood rose up the side of one rock formation. Branches stemmed from the main trunk, sprouting foliage. Like training the limbs of a fruit tree into orderly lines, Sakura twisted and curved the branches into the shape she envisioned.

The image of a raven in flight grew into the rock face, a relief of stone, branch, and greenery. Cliffside sculpture, honoring not six Hokage, but Itachi, and all the souls sacrificed in Konoha's name.

"It suits him," Sasuke said, reaching for her hand. "Do you ever think about the village?"

"Yes," she said. "Every day. I wonder if anything has changed."

To her surprise, Sasuke smiled. There was a familiar glint in his eye.

"You know something. Don't you?"

"I know something," he said, "though it took some time to understand."

He whispered it in Sakura's ear.

When Sasuke received the Rinnegan, his stomach dropped as if he had skipped a step. On one end of that feeling, he faced a god. On the other end, he was standing on a hilltop, gazing at a Konoha he did not recognize.

The Hokage mountain was a wall of green. Trees grew straight up the cliffside, a vertical forest. Foliage and vines hung like a curtain over the Hokage faces. Here and there, the corner of a mouth, the center of a large eye, a colossal tuft of hair, poked through the vast greenery. Sasuke wouldn't describe many things as beautiful, but the word came to mind.

A dark-haired young woman with glasses joined him on the crest of the hill. She had a delicate chin and a toughness to the bend of her spine. Sasuke remained silent. He could tell, by now, when someone was expecting him.

"We added to the monument," she explained, following his gaze. "It wasn't right to destroy it. It's important to remember. But a lot has changed. This isn't a place that carves faces into cliffs, anymore."

"You're not Sakura," he said.

"No, I'm not."

"Who are you, then?"

"Sarada."

He remembered this name from a dream.

"Uchiha Sarada," she continued.

Sasuke frowned. "Prove it."

Sarada drew in a deep breath. A wave of heat scorched Sasuke's face as she exhaled the signature fireball jutsu of the Uchiha clan. Flames larger than the crowns of trees licked the air, but none of the surrounding grasses were set alight. She possessed a fine control over her chakra that he had only seen in one other person.

The flames receded. "I can activate my Sharingan if you like," Sarada offered, touching a finger to her chin.

"No need," Sasuke said, smiling. Her eyes reminded him of Itachi's. "I see it."

He slipped back to fight alongside his teammates. To shape his future.

fin

–––––––––– this story is about two people finding each other. it's about trusting in yourself and in your heart. it's about doing the work to shape the world and the future you want––and at the end the ocean will be waiting.

thank you to: ––theredconversegirl and myr_art whose work first introduced me to the concept of time travel sasusaku ––my partner who spent hours close-reading every sentence so it could become a better story ––my friend di for her endless support and enthusiasm for everything i write ––every single person who has read and ever will read this story. even if you're reading 5 years in the future, please leave a comment so I can thank you for following along this journey with me! (and let me know if the pandemic over yet?)

and that's it! thank you, thank you, thank you! roya

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #ss fic #ss #my ss #my fic #the time being

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fanfictionaries · 3 years

Text

The Seduction of Sirius Black - Part 2

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Sirius Black

Summary:

Hermione loves her boyfriend, but there’s just one little problem -- she’s hopelessly attracted to Sirius Black.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Ron bashing (sorry)

Author’s Note: Part 2 is up and now I must go and study for my exam Wednesday!

MASTERLIST

Part 1

Her head was pounding. Pounding so hard behind her eyes that she thought she might throw up. In fact…Hermione flung her covers off of her, bolted to the bathroom attached to her room, and lifted the lid just in time to expel the contents of her stomach into the white porcelain. She heaved and heaved until there was nothing left for her to throw up, and then she heaved again for good measure. Wracked with full body convulsions, Hermione let her forehead lean against the cool porcelain of the toilet’s edge and vowed to never drink whiskey again. Why? Why had she drunk so much? Oh, right. The events of the previous afternoon came into her mind and Hermione gave another dry heave into the toilet bowl in response.

Ron. Ron was cheating on her. For how long? Was that witch the only one? Who else knew? Did Harry know? Did everyone know? Oh Gods…this was a disaster. No wonder she’d gotten so sloshed. And she was well and truly sloshed. She didn’t even remember paying her tab or how she got home. She sort of remembered getting into the house; there’d been an issue with her key, and she’d tripped quite a lot coming in and then—

Oh no.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

Hermione sat up with a gasp, a jolt of pain shooting through her head that made her groan and lay back down against the cool porcelain. It all came rushing back, her stupid drunk giggles, her blatant stares as she ogled Sirius in the hallway, her kissing him, him kissing her, his mouth on her—oh god, her hand on his—and then he’d stopped her and she’d…she’d stomped off like a petulant child! Hermione wanted to die. If she hadn’t thought the hangover was a bad enough pain to cause suicidal thoughts, then the memories of what she’d done the night before certainly were. What did she do now?

Her brain churned, slowly and painfully, certainly not operating at its usual capability. Damn whiskey. What did people normally do when they made horrible drunken mistakes? Hermione thought back to the one or two times her friends had made absolute arses of themselves while out drinking. They usually spent the next day apologizing over and over again, that is if they even—

That was it! She’d simply pretend like she didn’t remember any of it. That would put the pieces into Sirius’s hands. If he was offended enough by her actions, he’d tell her what happened (a mortifying thought), but if he was just as embarrassed by it as her, then he’d lie and say nothing happened at all. It was like a get out of jail free card, so to speak.

Rising gingerly to her feet, Hermione was barely vertical when a hard knock at her bedroom door sent her reeling back. She gasped, sending shooting pain through her skull once again, and tripped backwards, barely catching herself on the shower curtain. Thankfully, they didn’t rip from the rod, otherwise she’d have a hangover and likely a very nasty bump on her head to deal with. She had just resorted herself firmly on her feet when another, louder knock came at her door, and Hermione jumped again, cursing very loudly.

“Bloody hell!” Her pulse thumped violently in her chest and in her ears as she brought a hand up to her heart, surprisingly out of breath for very little physical exertion. She froze, staring blankly at the dark grain of her door. “Who is it?” she called out, wincing as her headache persisted. Who is it? Who did she think it was? She only lived with one person.

“It’s me, open up!”

Hermione sighed with relief at the sound of the distinctly feminine and more importantly not Sirius voice from the other side.

“It’s unlocked, come on it,” Hermione called back, allowing herself to slump against the sink as she reached for her toothbrush and toothpaste. There was a taste in her mouth she needed to be rid of, and Hermione had the sinking feel that it wasn’t just from to the amount of vomiting she’d been doing that morning.

The door swung open, slamming hard against the wall with a great thud. Hermione winced at the sound, wetting her toothbrush and globbing an exorbitant amount of toothpaste onto it.

“Sorry,” said Ginny, looking sheepish at her loud entrance as she padded into the room, arms full. Hermione spotted the contents of her arms and if it weren’t for her hungover state, she could have sung.

“Please tell me one of those coffees is for me,” said Hermione, desperately, mouth full of frothy toothpaste. She spat into the sink and washed away the frothy spit with water from the tap before returning to brutally brushing her teeth and gums.

“It is—” Ginny grinned devilishly as she set the large paper cup down next to Hermione and held up a large brown bag “—and so is one of these pasties.”

Hermione gasped, spitting into the sink, and rinsing it again before rinsing her toothbrush as well. She set the brush down on the counter and snatched the bag from Ginny’s hands. Digging deep into the grease-stained paper bag she pulled a wrapped Cornish pasty. “Is it—”

“Potato and onion, just like you like,” answered Ginny, already knowing her question before it left Hermione’s mouth.

“I mean this with all honesty and from the bottom of my heart, Gin – you are my favorite person in the world,” she handed the bag back to Ginny before taking her pasty and her coffee out of the bathroom and to her bed. She sat down heavily on the messy blankets and propped herself against the headboard before taking a deep sip of coffee. Good. So good.

“And I mean this with all honesty and from the bottom of my heart – you look like shit,” said Ginny, sitting down at the end of the bed and pulling out her own pasty.

Hermione groaned, leaning her head against the headboard, and running a hand down her face, “Ugh, I know. It was an…interesting day yesterday.”

“Yes, I heard. Sirius said—”

“What did he say?” Hermione asked, voice sounding a bit too guilty in her opinion.

Ginny gave her a curious look before continuing, “Just that you got home late last night, pissed off your arse. He said you came stumbling in giggling up a storm. What were you drinking?”

Hermione relaxed a bit knowing that Sirius hadn’t mentioned what happened after she came stumbling in. “Whiskey—” Hermione gagged just at the thought “—and too much of it.”

“Yes, well, when you find out your boyfriends been slagging around on you, I guess a large amount of alcohol is warranted,” said Ginny pointedly, finally getting straight to the point.

Hermione sighed, her body deflating as she tore open her Cornish pasty and took a large bite. “So you know then,” said Hermione through a mouth full of potato and onion.

Ginny nodded, now giving her a pitying look. Hermione hated that look. It was the same look she got all through sixth year when Ron was dating Lavender, snogging her all around the corner every chance he got. Apparently, some things never changed.

“And…how long have you known?” Hermione hated herself for asking but she had to – for her own sanity’s sake.

“Oh! —” Ginny’s eyes grew wide “—I just found out last night. I swear. He came round to ours right after he saw you. Scared the bogeys out of Harry and me. We thought he was still on assignment. We were just sitting down to some takeout and he burst through the fireplace, tracking soot across the rug, talking about how he’d messed up. Harry nearly hexed him before we realized it was him.”

Hermione sat back, taking another bite from her pasty. She chewed slowly, a little more relaxed that she now knew the secret of Ron’s infidelity was not just a secret to her. She swallowed her bite and then asked, “So, what did he say happened?”

Ginny frowned; her eyebrows furrowed deeply. “Well…it was all sort of a jumble at first but once we got him to sit and calm down, he basically confessed to it all. He said he’d been seeing someone else…behind your back. Behind everyone’s back. He told us how he’d been getting back from assignments earlier than he said he was to spend time with her. Apparently, she works at Flourish and Blotts.”

Hermione balked. She knew she’d seen the witch somewhere before. Of course! She was the new register girl at Flourish and Blotts. Hermione had seen her before when her and Ron went in to…oh Gods, she was going to be sick again. Ginny must have seen the look on Hermione’s face because she thrust the paper bag in Hermione’s direction and scoot a bit further back on the bed. Hermione took it, giving Ginny a grateful look, but setting it aside. No, she was not going to be sick again. Instead, she took another large sip of coffee, hoping the caffeine would soon bring relief to her aching head.

“I know. I know,” said Ginny commiseratingly. “Obviously, Harry and I were furious. I had to hold Harry back from physically attacking him and the only reason Ron’s arse wasn’t hexed off his body was because my wand was upstairs. I’m…I’m so sorry, Hermione.”

“Did he…” Hermione hesitated, unsure of whether she wanted to ask her next question, but knowing she’d drive herself crazy if she didn’t. “Did he say how long it’s being going on? Are they serious?”

Ginny pursed her lips, giving Hermione another one of those pitying looks. “I don’t think you want to know…”

“Just tell me Gin. I’m going to find out either way.”

Ginny swallowed thickly before answering, “Six months.”

“Six months?!” Hermione nearly shrieked, bringing a hand up to her head when it gave a surging pulse of pain. Merlin, she needed a pain potion in the worst way. Well, that answered her second question. If they’d been seeing each other six months, then it was definitely serious. Still, six months…that was a third of her and Ron’s relationship. Thinking back she realized that six months ago was around the time Ron stopped showing her affection and started spending more and more time away on assignments.

“I’m so sorry, Hermione,” Ginny apologized again. Hermione didn’t really know what she was sorry for though. Ginny wasn’t the one who’d been shagging someone else behind her back for half a year, thought Hermione bitterly. “I just want you to know that everyone’s on your side. Harry practically threw Ron out of our flat last night and told him to not come back until he’d figured out a way to fix things and I owled mum and dad the minute he left. I told mum to let him have her worst. The bastard deserves it.”

Hermione sighed, setting her pasty and coffee down on the nightstand, suddenly no longer hungry. So everyone knew now then. Great. A small part of her had hoped she could go a bit of time in denial. She hoped she could keep it a secret for just a bit before it became a big…thing.

“I guess I should have seen it coming,” Hermione finally said. “He’s been gone so much lately, and I’ve tried to be understanding, but he’s also been pulling away. I thought it might have been something I did…something we could fix, but.” Hermione shrugged, as if to say, ‘What can you do’.

Ginny frowned even deeper before asking, “Do you still want to? Fix it, I mean.”

Hermione frowned as well, thinking hard on her answer before shaking her head and saying, “No. No, I don’t.”

Ginny seemed a bit sad at her answer – perhaps disappointed that they would no longer one day be sisters but gave her a reassuring look all the same. “I completely understand. In my opinion he doesn’t deserve a second chance. I mean, what he’s done is so vile and unforgivable! I can’t believe—”

“Ginny—” Hermione cut of Ginny’s newly rising anger, suddenly feeling very tired “—thank you. Really, I appreciate you coming over here to comfort me. I just, I think I need a bit of alone time now. The last twenty-four hours have been exhausting and I think I just need a bit of a lie down.”

“Oh—” Ginny stood, collecting the trash from their breakfast “—of course. I’ll get out of your hair. Take as much time today as you need. You deserve it. Harry already called you in sick for the rest of the week and I’ll stop by tomorrow to see if you’re up for lunch.”

Merlin’s balls – work. She’d completely forgotten about work! It was only Wednesday. Burying herself into the confines of her duvet, Hermione thanked the stars for Harry Potter. Ginny gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before slipping out of the room. Hermione’s eyes had just closed, the pounding in her head all too apparent now that it was quiet when another knock came from the door.

“Come on in,” Hermione mumbled, voice groggy now that her muscles were relaxed, and her stomach was full of pasty. Ginny must have forgotten something.

“Sorry, Ginny said you were just about to have a lie down, but I thought you might need this first.”

Hermione froze at the sound of Sirius’s voice. Steeling herself, she rolled over and looked up at the older wizard with bated breath. He looked…fine. Calm even. How did he look so calm? He made his way across the room to the side of her bed and held out a small vial of pain potion to her. Hermione sat up a little, taking the vial from him. She uncorked it and tipped it past her lips, letting the bitter liquid slide down her past her tongue and down her throat. Pulling a face at the taste, she grabbed her coffee from the nightstand and chased it, before settling back in her bed.

“Thank you,” she said, purposefully avoiding looking at Sirius directly.

“Sure thing, kitten. How are you feeling?”

“Better, but still not my best,” Hermione answered, wishing more than anything Sirius would just leave. She wasn’t prepared for this. She needed at least four more hours of sleep and maybe another shot of whiskey before she was ready for this conversation. “Did…Ginny tell you what happened?”

Sirius nodded, and then much to her despair, he sat down on the edge of her bed. Hermione scooted her legs over, putting as much space between her body and his as she could without being too obvious.

“It certainly explains last night,” said Sirius, letting out a low and breathy laugh.

Hermione felt her face go hot, and she was sure she was as red as a tomato. However, if there was ever a time to put her plan from that morning into action, it was then.

“I’m so sorry you had to see me like that,” she began, looking down at her lap as she fingered the fabric of the duvet. “I’m ashamed to say I was so drunk I don’t even remember getting home. I hope I didn’t do anything too embarrassing like puke on your shoes, or something.”

There was a brief silence before Sirius cleared his throat and said, “No, no. Nothing like that.”

“Really?” Hermione asked, looking up in surprise. Sirius looked back at her, his grey eyes open and friendly. He gave her a small smile.

“Really,” he responded. “Although if you had puked on my shoes, I wouldn’t really blame you. No need to feel embarrassed for getting a bit too drunk. Can’t say I’d do much better if I’d been in your position.”

Hermione gave a weak laugh in response.

“Now,” continued Sirius. “You get some rest.” He stood and walked towards the door. He was halfway out of the door, handle in his grasp when Hermione called out to him.

“Sirius.”

The wizard turned, giving her a surprised look mixed with, was it worry? Concern? Hermione couldn’t tell. Her tongue faltered, stuck behind her teeth as she realized she had no idea why she’d called out his name. Swallowing thickly she gave him a smile that she hoped looked natural and said, “Thank you, again.”

“Of course, kitten.”

***

“How are you feeling?” Ginny asked, that same pitying look on her face.

Her and Harry sat across the table from Hermione at a small café in Diagon Alley. Just like Ginny had promised, she arrived exactly at noon the following day to see if Hermione was up for lunch. Hermione, who’d been hiding in her room, avoiding a certain older, dark-haired wizard found that she couldn’t say no. She was going stir-crazy and as even a quick trip to the kitchen seemed like too much of a risk, she was starving as well. So, there she was, sat across from the picture of marital bliss, wondering how long it really took to make a sandwich and chips.

Harry, thankfully, wasn’t giving her the same sad look Ginny was. In fact, if she had to put a word to how he looked she’d call it ‘uncomfortable’. He was having a hard time meeting Hermione’s eyes and he kept moving his hands from under the table to on top of it, his thumbs twiddling together.

Hermione sighed at Ginny’s question, bringing a hand up to her temple and rubbing the tired, tender flesh. While her hangover was well and past, she still felt exhausted – strung out really, despite the amount of extra sleep she’d gotten. She blamed Sirius Black for that. Despite every fiber of her being telling her that Ron’s infidelity should have been the main focus of her mind, instead she’d been unable to think of anything but the fact that Sirius Black had let their little tryst be swept under the rug surprisingly easily.

“I’m alright,” Hermione answered, giving Ginny a tired smile.

She should be alright – with the fact that Sirius played along with her little alcohol-induced memory loss game. It’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? The whole reason she’d decided to lie to him was so that he would have an out. So that the two of them could pretend like it never happened. So that they’d never have to have the uncomfortable ‘We almost drunkenly shagged in the hallway’ conversation. Well, she had been drunk. What was his excuse?

“Are you sure?” Ginny asked again.

Hermione looked around the café, hoping to see their waitress coming just around the corner with her food. No such luck.

“Heard anything from Ron?” Hermione asked, surprised that of all things, she’d rather distract herself with the topic of Ron cheating on her than think about Sirius Black.

Ginny shook her head. “We haven’t heard anything, and mum says he hasn’t showed up to the Burrow, which means—”

“He’s been staying somewhere else…like his girlfriend’s place,” Hermione finished for her, her mouth going sour.

A tense silence filled the space around them at the table. It made sense that he would rather stay there than go home and face his mother’s wrath. Did the other witch know about Hermione? She wondered what Ron had told her – if he had told her anything. When she had realized who Hermione was, she seemed to remain friendly enough and she didn’t seem worried. It was common knowledge that her and Ron had been dating. It had been front page news in the Daily Prophet. So what then? Had Ron told this witch too? Had he told her that they were broken up? Perhaps someone should tell her…

“I feel like I should do something,” said Harry, breaking the silence. “I—do you—would it make you feel better if I beat the shit out of him?”

Hermione laughed. Actually laughed, fully and whole-heartedly. “No, Harry. That’s not necessary but thank you. I appreciate the gesture.”

Harry smiled sheepishly and nodded. “Alright then. Just thought I’d ask.”

They fell into a silence again and Hermione found herself looking out the café window for something to do. Her thoughts drifted back to Sirius. After lunch she’d have to go home. Usually she’d kill a few hours by going into Flourish and Blotts, but it felt a bit off-limits at the moment. Not needing any new robes or potions ingredients and having no reason stop by Gringotts, her only option was to go back to Grimmauld Place. She’d have to face Sirius sooner than later, she thought despondently. Still, maybe she could go into Muggle London if she found herself lacking in courage by the time lunch was over.

“Harry, did you have to use the restroom?” asked Ginny, bringing Hermione out of her thoughts. She looked up at the two of them across from her and saw Ginny looking at her husband with wide eyes.

“No?” Harry responded, looking back at his wife in confusion.

“No, no. I’m pretty sure you said when we got here that you needed to use the loo.”

“I think I’d remember if I said—”

“Harry. Bathroom,” said Ginny through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing.

Harry eyes grew wide in both fright and understanding before he made a fidgeting motion, turning slight in his seat. “Right, um, yeah. I forgot. I’ll just—”

Harry stood, walking briskly through the café towards the back hallway where the bathrooms were.

Hermione watched him go, brow furrowed in confusion. Well that was odd. Looking back at Ginny, she found the redheaded Weasley girl staring fixedly at her.

“Everything alright, Gin?” she asked nervously.

“What aren’t you telling me?” asked Ginny, her tone blunt and accusatory.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Hermione’s palms began to sweat. She couldn’t possibly…unless Sirius mentioned something. Did he?

“Hermione. I’ve known you for nearly eight years now. I know when there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Hermione chewed her lip, meeting Ginny’s sure gaze. A raging war battled within Hermione’s head as she sat in the café, the vinyl bench seat squeaking under her restless legs. Should she tell Ginny? If she didn’t, the girl would surely badger her until she did. And Hermione did really need a second opinion on her predicament – needed to tell someone or she might just go insane.

“Promise not to judge me too harshly?” Hermione asked, wringing her wrist in her hand.

“Hermione, of course I won’t judge you—” Ginny’s expression softened “—What is it? You can tell me.”

“You know how I went out drinking Tuesday night after finding out about Ron?”

“Yes…” Ginny drew out the word, her voice lilting up into a question almost.

“And you know how I came stumbling home drunk off my arse?”

“Yeah,” Ginny snorted. “I would have paid big money to see it.”

“Well, when I got home I…I…well you see I—”

“Hermione, just spit it out.”

“I snogged Sirius!” Hermione blurted the words, covering her mouth with both palms as if she could scoop the words out of the air and push them back down her throat. She glanced around her hurriedly, realizing only then that she’d practically yelled out for all to hear that she’d made out with Sirius Black, godfather to famous Harry Potter.

Ginny stared at her, wide-eyed and mouth hung open very much not unlike Ron from two nights previous.

“It—well I was drunk, and I got home, and Sirius was there, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt, you see. And I just…he looked so fit, you know? And I thought, well if Ron can go off and shag someone while we’re dating then surely, I can snog someone else now that we’re no longer dating. So I did.”

Ginny continued to stare at her in shock. Hermione swallowed thickly.

“Ginny, please say something. I’m almost positive I will go barking mad if you don’t.”

“I…I’m not quite sure what to say. Sirius? As in Sirius Black?”

“Yes.”

“Our Sirius Black?”

“Yes.”

“The Sirius Black you live with?”

“Yes.”

“Sirius Black – the godfather of my husband, Sirius Black?”

“Oh for crying out loud, yes Ginny. Sirius Black. That Sirius Black. I snogged Sirius Black,” Hermione bit, now rubbing both of her temples.

“Merlin’s beard…” said Ginny in a tone of disbelief.

“I know,” responded Hermione.

“How was it?”

“Ginny!” Hermione looked across the table at her friend in disbelief. The redhead was grinning back at her mischievously.

“What?! Inquiring minds want to know, Hermione Granger. You can’t just tell me something that juicy and not expect me to have questions.”

“Well yes, but I rather thought the questions in question would be more like ‘What were you thinking?’, ‘Why did you do that?’, ‘What are you going to do?’. Not, ‘How hot was it?’” laughed Hermione in bewilderment.

“So, it was hot then,” said Ginny, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh Merlin…” Hermione sighed, resting her head in her hands.

“Okay but in all seriousness, I do need all the details. So start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.” Ginny leaned forward in her seat, crossing her arms on the tabletop, and looking at Hermione expectantly.

Hermione sighed, but figured she owed it to Ginny to tell her the whole thing. Except, while Ginny was probably expecting the beginning to be her stumbling through the front door Tuesday night, nearly falling ass over tits, in reality, Hermione was going to need to start much further back than that. Hermione took a deep breath and then opened her mouth and told Ginny everything.

“Wow…”

“I know,” Hermione moaned, rubbing her palms down her face once again.

They were quiet before a moment before Ginny spoke, “So how are we going to get you two in the sack?”

“What?” Hermione asked in surprise. “You mean you’re not upset with me for more or less emotionally cheating on your brother?”

Ginny shrugged. “He actually cheated on you. I think it’s pretty fair.”

“Okay…” said Hermione slowly. “Isn’t it a bit wrong to be moving on so quickly? I mean last night I couldn’t really fault myself. I was drunk.”

“You’re not still hung up on my brother, are you?”

Hermione paused for a moment, already knowing her answer before it slipped past her lips. She had loved Ron, she still loved Ron in a way. But they’d been growing apart for quite some time. His infidelity was just the nail in the coffin for their relationship.

“Not really, no,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Good,” said Ginny simply, an acrid bite to it. “He doesn’t deserve you wallowing over him.”

They sat for a moment, letting the statement marinate in the space between them. But then Hermione spoke again, unable to now stop her racing mind and worries, “You don’t think he’s a bit too old for me?”

Ginny snorted. “You say old, I say experienced.”

Hermione’s cheeks grew hot at the implication of Ginny’s words. A flash of the night before came to mind and she knew she couldn’t say Ginny was wrong.

“Okay, well then what about Harry?”

“Merlin Hermione! Harry will be fine! He doesn’t even have to know if you don’t want him to. I’ll keep your secret and I’m sure Sirius would too if you asked. Are you trying to come up with excuses not to do this?” Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No! I just…last night he rejected me. It leaves a witch feeling a bit apprehensive,” said Hermione, looking down at her hands now clasped together on top of the table.

“Hey,” said Ginny softly, bringing Hermione’s attention up. “He turned you down because you were drunk, Hermione. It’s a pretty bloody gentlemanly thing to do. Plus, he only turned you down after he had a taste. It’s obvious he couldn’t help himself.”

“You think?” asked Hermione, catching Harry walking back across the café from the restroom.

Ginny, spotting her distracted look, turned her head and acknowledged her fast approaching husband. She leaned forward across the table and lowered her voice, “I’m positive. Sirius is clearly attracted to you. We just have to make him realize that you’re both available and willing.”

“How are we going to do that?” Hermione whispered back.

“Simple. Hermione Granger, you are going to seduce Sirius Black.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #sirius black #hermione granger #sirius x hermione #angst #ginny weasley is a great friend #harry potter

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