#and by worried i mean Frothing At The Mouth. that would hurt so good. it would be delicious | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherryredstars · 4 months

Note

holy sbit i just read your actor!mig oneshot and i’m frothing at the mouthjfjfjdand it got me thinking

how would reader react if mig had to do a sex scene for a movie? i mean she’d be fine with outwardly but inwardly, understandably she’d be jealous asf, even though there is security in their relationship i feel like it would be difficult, how would mig react to her being insecure? or maybe jealous because of that🥹

(i saw ur requests were open and i couldn’t help myself, tysm for reading this and you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to i love your work regardless<333)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Insecurity, Mirror Sex, Praise, Fingering, Oral Sex, Mentions to Breeding Kinks

Summary: Nothing but a good sex scene.

Word Count: 2K (Not Edited)

Part 1

The internet sucks.

You know that, Miguel knows that, everyone knows it. Yet, here you are, hurting your own feelings as your phone feeds you countless posts about your boyfriend and his new movie. His new movie that also stars a really popular, really really pretty female co-star. Who he had sex with. Cinematically. In the movie.

Movie sex is not real sex. Miguel says and reminds you all the time. Most of the time, sex scenes only consist of the actors being shirtless and zoomed in shots of their upper bodies. Convenient things like a perfectly placed object or being under the sheets hid the fact nothing is actually going on. Miguel always assures you that, if the directors want a real sex scene, he’d be out of there in seconds.

But still, all the edits and tweets and pictures that are filling up every corner of the internet make your skin raise and ache. It definitely looks real. It’s not really a surprise, Miguel and his co-star are wonderful actors. They’re so good at their jobs. It makes you feel gross. Especially when you can’t stop replaying the scene over and over again. It’s not hard to find it, the scene devours the internet like a wildfire.

She looks pretty. No, not pretty, gorgeous. Hot and sexy and erotic. Nothing like you at all. Her skin is impossibly smooth, shiny and soft. Her lips are painted in a deep red that pops against her skin and draws attention to her perfectly sculpted face. Even if it weren’t for the lipstick, the calculated moans she makes for the camera draws your attention to her mouth. Her moans are perfectly pitched. They’re breathy and her mouth forms the perfect ‘o’. It makes you rub at your throat, an uneasy feeling getting stuck there. You don’t moan like that.

Her facial expressions are amazing too. Brows furrowed in a way that perfectly showcases her pleasure. But they don’t look funny or distort her face too drastically. When her eyes roll back, her eyelashes flutter so nicely. She doesn’t look possessed or ugly. Your hand subconsciously rubs at your cheek. You don’t look so effortlessly pretty like that.

It ruins you. Why would Miguel possibly want to have sex with you if he has pretty, hotter co-stars? The thought sticks with you even with Miguel on top of you. Usually, you’d be on your back, legs spread and exposed for his viewing pleasure. But you can’t, not today. So Miguel has begrudgingly agreed to take you in a different position. Your ass is in the air, upper body pressed into the mattress. Your face is completely hidden from his view, something Miguel isn’t the happiest about. What’s even worse, he can barely even hear you. You’re pushing your face into one of the stupid pillows, muffling the minimal sounds you’re making.

Usually, you’re moaning and whining uncontrollably under him. Your mouth never shutting as noise spills from your swollen lips. It drives him crazy to hear your verbal pleasure. The pleasure he gives you. Sometimes you’re babbling broken sentences or just calling out his name, but it's everything to him. So hearing almost complete silence from you, paired with not being able to see your reactions, shoots worry through him.

He tries everything he knows drives you crazy. He leans forward and pinches and tugs at your clit. It twitches in his fingers, but you don’t make your usual gasps. He spreads your legs wider and juts his hips into you with more force, hitter deeper against your wall. You don’t give him that beautiful, high-pitched scream of his name. You instead, shove your face into the pillow and hum. He leans in and whines into your ear about how tight you are. How he really, really wishes the two of you would throw away all protection so he can fill you up with his baby. Instead of begging and babbling, you wiggle your hips and push back into him.

Something awful hits his chest. Did he do something wrong? Are you upset with him? Are you not feeling well? Does it not feel good?

He instantly stills, all the arousal he once had disintegrating. He pulls out slowly, not wanting to hurt you. You turn to him in confusion, brows furrowed from over the pillow. He flips you over gently, turning you on your back and dragging you close to him. You still have that pillow pressed to your lower face, arms wrapped around it. You look like a damn vision, naked before him with your hair spread out on the bed. You look like an offering with that white pillow covering your face and chest, leaving him to only focus on your big doe eyes and the fact your legs are spread to accommodate his body. Innocent and cute and sexy.

His hands land on your outer thighs, warm and big as they rub up and down your skin. It makes you melt into the bed, a sleepy look masking your eyes. Miguel’s heart sings at the pure content on your face, but it doesn’t drown out his concern. He can feel unease in the air and his hair stands on end. Slowly, you pull the pillow away from your face as you realize he isn’t going to slip back inside of you.

“Why y’stop?” you call out shyly to him, a small pout on your lips. You seem nervous and Miguel’s hands tighten on your thighs.

“You’re acting differently. What’s wrong?” He counters.

You grow bashful under him, pulling the pillow up to hide your cheeks that are colored in shame. You simply shrug, turning away from him as you slowly start to close your legs. He doesn’t stop you, but he doesn’t take his hands off of you. He helps you sit up when you make the move to, his hand moving to grasp both of yours. He gives them a comforting squeeze and a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes flutter shut, breathing in the comforting clean scent he carries.

“What’s wrong, mi vida?” He asks again.

You don’t respond. But you don’t have to. Miguel looks at you like he knows. He always knows. Tentative and caring Miguel who always knows. His kiss to your forehead is rougher, more pressure behind it before he pulls away. The way he carries you is effortless, like he’s carrying a bag of feathers. He moves the two of you to the opposite side of the bed, directly in front of the wall of mirrors that make up the walk-in closet. He sits down first, maneuvering you to sit on his thigh with your back pressed to his front.

Your eyes are glued to your reflection, naked against Miguel with nothing but a fluffy pillow hiding you. His face nudges at your jawline and neck. He places soft kisses along the skin, distracting you as he takes the pillow from you. He places it to the side, still within your reach. Your fingers itch to grab at it again, but you resist. Instead, you close your eyes and focus on the way Miguel’s fingertips glide over your warm skin and make you shiver. You lean back into him, head resting against his shoulder. His hands travel down, and you bury your face into the crook of his neck to hide your gasp. His fingers caress the lasting stickiness between your thighs, his own leg moving to widen yours. You peek at the mirror from beside his neck, eyes falling to the glistening between your thighs. Your cheeks heat and you nuzzle your face into Miguel as a way to hide. He hums against you, hand still moving and collecting your juices on his finger. You whimper when he pushes it in, thumb swiping gently over your clit.

“Shh, taking it so well, mi hermosa. My pretty baby.” He coos gently into your ear, curling his finger inside of you.

Your hips buck instinctively, another whine leaving as his finger grazes your walls. His other hand comes to massage your hip and your eyes catch the movement in the mirror. Miguel is looking at the mirror too, studying you. His touch is soft, his finger pumping in and out of you slowly. You moan into his neck, eyes fluttering when he adds another. They scissor inside of you, meeting together to curl. Your hand comes up to hold his, taking it away from your hip and squeezing it tight to stabilize you.

He hums into your hair, muttering soft praise into the strands. His fingers continue curling, going to the knuckle so he can press onto the gummy spot inside of you. You can’t hold in your moans anymore, giving them freely to him. It makes him smile, kissing the crown of your head.

“That’s it, singing so prettily for me, yeah?” He asks, letting go of your hand to grab your chin.

He removes your face from his neck, making you face him. Your eyes are droopy from pleasure, and your lips are parted slightly so soft moans can escape. It makes his cock jump, but he ignores it to give you a sweet kiss. It’s soft and passionate. His lips opened and slanted against yours. His tongue is warm as it slips into your mouth, caressing your own until the both of you are moaning into each other's mouth. It makes your head foggy and you forget all about what you were scared about before.

When Miguel pulls away, he turns back to the mirror and groans at the sight of you. You’re slick is dripping down his fingers and your skin fucking glows in the reflection. His fingers speed up, his thumb pressing into your swollen bud.

“Been thinking about you so much, y’know that. Was fucking fantasizing about you during that whole movie. Imagining doing all those things in the script to you drove me fucking crazy. Had to take care of myself in my dressing room thinking about your cute little noises and the faces you make. Mi hermosa nena.”

The little whimper you let out paired with the tightening of your walls is fucking precious. He pulls you into another kiss, quickening his fingers until your whole body is twitching. You have to pull away from the kiss, your hand clawing to his arm and nails digging in as your moans get louder. With a hard flick to your clit and the curling of his fingers, your body is shaking with an orgasm. Your toes curl, head thrown back against his shoulder as he finger fucks you through your orgasm.

“That’s, that’s my beautiful girl. Ride it out baby, I got you.” He mumbles against your shoulder, pressing kisses along the curve of skin.

He only stops pumping into you when your hand pushes him away. Your body is heaving with the effort of breathing, and Miguel watches every second through the mirror. When you finally compose yourself, you nuzzle into his skin. It makes Miguel smile, kissing your hair again before gently lifting you off of his lap and laying you down on the bed. You watch hypnotized as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, humming around them before popping them back out. You whine softly at him, and he chuckles down at you.

He leaves you on the bed, vanishing into the bathroom before coming back with a towel. It makes your brows furrow, leaning up and your elbows as he begins to clean you up.

“But… What about you?” You ask, eyes trailing down to his prominent hard-on.

Miguel follows your line of sight, shaking his head when he looks back up at you. “Don’t worry about it baby, all I care about right now is you.”

His confession makes you melt, letting yourself sink into the bed. His touch is gentle as he cleans you, and he throws the towel to the floor when he’s done. He hovers over you, leaning down to kiss you softly before resting his head against yours.

“Te amo, mi amor.”

And you know. He always lets you know.

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bunnakit · 4 months

Text

last twilight ep 7 thoughts, feelings, etc

ALRIGHT i ran my errands, caught up on pit babe and playboyy to relax, and now i'm doing my speedwatch. i took some notes while watching the first time and they're a fucking MESS but hopefully they help me remember everything i want to comment on because without fail i always forget something.

you'll all be glad to know this week's meta bullshit from me is far, far less romantic and wistful than last weeks. you've all been spared by my adhd brain not being able to piece together a single poetic thought.

i kind of knew from this moment the trajectory the episode would take. Day is clearly nervous but not defensive - this isn't out of the realm of something Mhok would do for him but with recent context it probably feels fairly intimate. i think this was a really good indicator of what we're in for.

there's a collection of sunflowers in Day's room, tucked away in the corner, not unlike Mhok tucking away his feelings for Day's comfort. the poor things are shrouded in shadow, away from the light. the pain is unending and forever.

Day's flashback to the kiss has me curious. his eyes are closed so he's not even thinking back to seeing what he can of Mhok up close. as he reminisces about this kiss is he simply remembering the sensation of Mhok's lips on his own? how his hands curled into Mhok's jacket? and i'm sure we've all seen the post but - was he thinking of the way Mhok tasted like cigarettes? this isn't to romanticize his disability, i'm just genuinely wondering what exactly he's drawing on here in this moment, because it's clearly something significant to him.

Porjai just keeps getting prettier every episode and it's making me insane. i just think i should be allowed to take care of her.

"I'm jealous of Day's ability to make you smile."

this makes me think Mhok's smiles have been few and far between, and maybe Porjai has been looking to bring out that smile for a long time. does she ever worry that maybe someday Mhok could end up like Rung? does she worry about finding him too?

oh i so very badly want the context for this, i want to know everything. but also, it's really not that surprising. not when we've seen the things Mhok has done for Day. Mhok lives his life in extremes; anger, kindness, protectiveness, his work, etc. everything Mhok does he puts his whole self into it and it's nice to see his love is no different, because why would it be?

i'm once again in awe of what P'Aof has done with Mhok and Porjai, though. they live together so easily and naturally. there's nothing strange or awkward about it, just two people surviving life together. it's such a breath of fresh air.

Day just cannot catch a break when it comes to August. this has to hurt so fucking badly, the pity has to feel amplified by 1000. not only was August trying to force himself to like Day back because he's blind, but also because he was thinking of leaving. Day is a stronger man than me because i would be frothing at the mouth pissed.

but once again, Mhok doesn't let Day stew in his fish tank. he encourages him to go out and resolve his feelings, even if that means screaming at August and letting out all his hurt and frustration. he's seen what happens when Day lets his hurt fester and he won't let it happen again, not while he's around.

"He's a lot stronger than I thought. It's me who's so weak that I let him down."

as much as August pisses me off, i do think this is him realizing his pity was misplaced, and he failed Day in that way, so he gets some redemption points here. (still think he's a stinky bastard man tho)

the immediate distance Mhok puts between himself and the group never fails to hurt my heart. i get it, he's there for a job, but their relationship has progressed past that - now even moreso, and i cant help but wonder if this is his attempt at keeping a distance, curbing his expectations, reminding himself that while his role is to be by Day's side it's only in a professional capacity.

i love that Gee acknowledges him with a little head nod, occasionally looks in Mhok's direction as if to include him, she's just - ugh - i love all the women in this show so fucking much. i just wish someone would invite Mhok over sometime, encourage him to join the conversation (like they did back at the party.)

sometimes Mhok really is the embodiment of a shadow - both of Day and of his former self (for good or bad.)

(he looks so fucking sexy leaning like that with his shirt tucked into his pants tho, whew.)

Gee also becomes one of my favorite people for asking Day to take the photo of all of them. she just gets it, she includes him, she doesn't act like he can't do things, she even insists he can, she's just !!! the women of all time in this show i swear!!! I LOVE WOMEN!!!!

also the "you don't drink coffee, girl spill the tea" from Gee is just so good. she knows a diversion tactic when she sees one.

i want this expression framed, she's so cute, HELP.

i wish i had the time and energy today to make gifs for this week but ugh. the journey Mhok's face went on here to end up at quiet resignation. because he did figure. someone like Day? with someone like him? because we know Mhok's opinion of himself isn't great, largely influenced by his incarceration and reintegration into society, i'm sure, along with his guilt. but there had been that little bud of hope, a little sunflower seed that had bloomed just a little too far, reached for the sun a little too much. it must feel like a weed in his chest.

the way Day says 'here' so softly, with so much vulnerability made me feel like screaming. he doesn't know what his feelings are for Mhok yet (you can't tell me he doesn't feel anything) but he knows he doesn't want to lose Mhok and the sudden idea of it is terrifying. Mhok is the only person that really understands him, one of the only people he's comfortable around anymore, and he can't lose that. he doesn't want to go back to the dirty fish tank.

i also think this was an indicator to Mhok that maybe Day doesn't know how he feels, and maybe he can get away with flirting in tiny, subtle ways because from here on his secret flirting game is in full effect and it's so fucking cute. he's careful not to completely push past Day boundaries, but to test them in gentle ways.

THE SHOES MY BELOVEDS. we all know what i feel about these shoes after last week and i'm so glad to see all of my stupid babbling confirmed here. i love that Mhok constantly mends things instead of throwing them away. the sentimentality of items means something to Mhok and we love him for that.

we also got a proper 'sweet dreams' this episode, finally!! thank you subbers!

so many shots of feet this ep tho and lemme tell you as someone that HATES feet, this was rough.

oh you are so smitten. Day realizing Mhok is warm, warm in his own way, warm in such a gentle and understated way. UGH. you would've thought he knew after everything they've been through but sometimes people need a reminder and maybe something to drive them to pay closer attention. our boy is BESOTTED. kicking his feet and giggling. i think this is the happiest we've ever seen him.

so here's where i'm probably going to wax poetic the most. Mhok is finally opening up to Day in such an incredible way. he brings Day to his home with no fear of pity or judgement. he brings him into this sanctuary created by him, his sister, and Porjai and he cooks for him and cares for him and in letting him in Day sees even more how impossibly warm Mhok is.

what's even greater is there isn't a single moment where Day is jealous or questions Porjai being there. Mhok has told him she's expecting and he's never weird about it, just kind and understanding and it's all so normalized, it's fucking beautiful. Day even takes the time to encourage Porjai, to share about his mom, and about the strength it takes to be a single mom. P'Aof i adore you.

Mhok has planted jasmine simply because he knows Day likes it, and maybe now he likes it too. and he brings Last Twilight home to practice reading (i'd always wondered how he managed to read without stumbling over himself lmao) and he's done it so much that now Porjai wants to name their child Mee, wants to create this connection to Day forever.

and once prompted, once Day knows enough to ask, Mhok opens up about Rung, talks about her more. Day comments on the warmth of the house, something started by Rung and cultivated by Mhok. it would be so easy for the house to feel cold and clinical, especially knowing what happened here, but Mhok has kept it a home - warm, inviting, comforting - all the things Mhok has been to Day.

the noises took me by fuckin' surprise tho, i genuinely looked around my house like who the fuck is making all that noise and then i was like OH THOSE ARE-- OKAY--

and I know people are like haha P'Aof has a scent kink but like. idk. maybe it's just me but scents are something i'm drawn to. i remember the way someone smelled more than i remember their face. i recently took a shirt out of my closet and immediately started crying. it smelled like face powder and perfume. it smelled like my grandma. the leather jacket pushed to the side smells like cigarettes and horses, like my dad always did.

scent is such an ingrained memory, something that is so hard for our brains to let go of. every time i get a familiar smell it knocks me on my ass, and i'm so glad to see some of this represented in these shows.

this absolutely warmed my heart. whatever is going on with Night and Day is clearly more on Day's side than anything else. Night clearly loves his brother and i'm just fucking DYING to know what is going on that is causing Day to drive a wedge between them. sure, Night hasn't been perfect, but there's love there and that counts for so much.

and what exactly are you doing here??? this is a charity run for blindness - does he know someone that is blind other than Day? did meeting Day inspire him to participate? has he spent time talking to Mhok about Day and maybe the difficulties of his blindness? i am filled with questions but i love this character so much, he's just so kind.

Day's hesitation to cross the finish line was also something i found so interesting. it felt long, possibly too drawn out, but Day needed to think, needed time to understand that if he crosses that finish line, if he accepts Mhok's request to be his boyfriend, their lives will never go back to how they were. things between them will change forever, whether the relationship is a success or otherwise. it's an incredibly mature thing of Day to do, even if it felt a little lengthy for us, the audience.

i strongly believe that in addition to Mhok Porjai is going to be a big driving force in Night and Day's reconciliation. i would love to see Porjai gain Night's side of the story, Mhok gain Day's side of the story, and the two of them working together to see how they can reunite these brothers.

also if i had a nickle for every time P'Aof paired Mark with a pregnant woman in his shows i'd have two nickles, which isn't a lot but it's interesting it has happened twice.

while i, like everyone else, hope the mock proposal is a parallel we get to see later i want to focus more on this moment.

i forget who said it, it's long gone to the depths of my dash by now, but someone commented that disabilities do not stop for love, and fuck is that so true. i love Mhok's concern, his immediate reaction to soothe, and the way he seems to feel Day's fear as his own. and poor Day, he can't even enjoy this moment of bliss with Mhok because of course, of course something like this had to happen. it's so fucking real in the way Last Twilight has been this entire time.

the constant excellent representation of disabled living has been incredible to see, i've seen so much of myself in this show (even though my disability is so very different) and it's been like a warm blanket put over very single comment: you're too young to be disabled, you aren't THAT disabled, you're being dramatic, etc.

from the bottom of my heart, thank you P'Aof and team.

tag loves: @benkaaoi @callipigio @infinitelyprecious (as always tell me if you want to be added {for LT only or all meta} or removed!)

#bunn meta #last twilight #last twilight the series #mhokday #morkday #userjamiec #im soooo fuckin sleepy after making this but i still have to work #someone come make me tea and gimme a little kith

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kelcemenow · 8 months

Text

As The Snow Falls - Chapter 5.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 2629

Warnings Some angst, some mentions of controlling behaviour and past trauma, slight smut and strong language.

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

"So, what are you going to do?" Amie looked at you with wide eyes.

You held your stare on the view out of the large window, the trees dusted in crisp, white snow, "I have no clue."

Amie sighed before taking a sip of her coffee, "Isn't it funny? If you'd have just both told each other how you felt back then, this whole situation may not have even happened."

"Yes, I see the painful irony."

"Like, you two could've been a couple by now."

"Amie-"

She widened her eyes, "You could've been married to him!"

You looked up in frustration, "Alright, stop it!"

Amie shrugged her shoulders and sank down in her chair. You took a deep breath and stared into your mug, a small amount of milk froth swirling on top of the brown liquid. You liked Travis, you liked him a lot. His presence caused you excitement, almost making you feel like you were back in college with a crush again. There was undeniable chemistry between the both of you and a sexual tension that you could hardly stand but something was holding you back.

"You're worried about being hurt again, aren't you?"

"I'm always worried about being hurt again."

Amie tipped her head, leaning forward to reach for your hand, "You need to let that go. You're never going to truly move on and be happy if you don't."

You could feel a lump forming in your throat, "But what if he finds me again?" You whispered.

Amie shifted to the edge of her seat, "And what if he doesn't?"

"I could never bring that drama onto Travis, it's not fair. It's not worth the risk." Your voice trembled.

"What's up, bitches?" Jasmine shouted as she pranced over to the window.

You turned away slightly to avoid her gaze and Amie retreated from you, smiling at Jasmine, "Hey, what's up?"

"Travis is rich, right?"

Amie glared at Jasmine whilst you looked at her from the corner of your eye.

"What do you mean?" Amie questioned.

Jasmine settled into the spare armchair that was situated next to you, her hands running through her hair, "You know, he's rich. He's just won the Super...something. So, he's gonna have some money behind him. He's famous. Not my idea of famous, but sports famous."

You snorted a sarcastic laugh which attracted her attention.

"Look, I know, you two were having some kind of moment in the hot tub earlier but I was thinking of asking him out." She crossed her arms, "I just wanted to check whether it was worth my time?"

Amie's mouth gaped open as she listened and looked to you for your reaction.

You stayed silent, clenching your jaw as she continued.

"He's brutally hot, don't get me wrong, but I need more than that. I need someone who can...keep up with me and my lifestyle, you know, financially."

You pressed your lips together and furrowed your brows, holding your nerve and your tongue as much as you could.

"So, what do you guys think?" She glanced between you and Amie with expectant eyes.

Amie cleared her throat gently, "I think, maybe you should get to know him a little better? See if you two are compatible?"

Jasmine laughed, "Oh, please. I'm compatible with everyone." She stood up from the chair and turned to you, "Y/N, can you put in a good word for me? You two seem...close." She said with a smirk.

"Uhhh, y-yeah sure." You stuttered.

You both watched as she floated away, her hips swinging and her head turning, seemingly in search for Travis.

Amie leaned forward to you, whispering, "You're not going to actually do it, are you?"

You shrugged your shoulder, "Yeah. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

"What kind of friend-? Are you kidding?" She hissed, "She has been vile lately. I mean, she's always been a bit...you know, but honestly, I think she's getting worse, Y/N. I can't believe you don't see it, she's walking all over you! Just like-"

"Just like Aaron did, is that what you were going to say?"

"Yes! He did and she's doing the same." Her face softened slightly, "I want you back, Y/N. I want the Y/N I know and love and became best friends with over three bottles of red wine and a Cup O Noodles!"

You exhaled a laugh and hung your head, "I'm still here...somewhere." Sighing, you rested back against the wall, "I didn't know if you had realised the date but it's been a year since I left him."

Amie nodded gently, "Yeah, I'd noticed but I didn't want to make a big deal about it."

"A whole year, and he's still looming over me. Every date I go on, every new city I move to, every time I just walk down the street, I'm still worried that he's there. I answered my front door for the first time without panicking last week and I almost broke down crying at how amazing it felt. That's not normal, Amie."

"It is for someone who has been through what you've been through."

You smiled meekly, "Even if it is, I'm tired of it." You looked around the room, "I'm just tired full stop. I think I'm going to have an early night."

"That's probably a good idea. You've got an early ski date in the morning." She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, stop it."

"What?" Amie laughed, "You told me you wanted to have an early ski in the morning and Travis apparently said the same thing. No reason you two can't go together?"

"I suppose so." You said as you rolled your eyes.

Amie giggled and reached across, pulling you in for a hug, "Just enjoy it. Relax...and see what happens."

You held your mug to your lips, hiding the growing smile of excitement on your face when Travis appeared at the top of the staircase.

"Ladies." He nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a little longer.

Amie stood up, smiling, "You'd best have your wits about you, Jasmine's on a hunt for you."

Travis quickly scanned the room, "What? Really?"

You pressed your lips together, "Yeah. She's set her sights on you and usually if Jasmine wants something, she gets it."

Travis laughed, "Well, she ain't getting me, man."

Amie threw her arm around Travis' shoulders, needing to lift up onto her tip toes to reach him, "It takes a brave man to deny the princess, I wish you all the luck in the world." She squeezed him before walking away.

Travis raised his eyebrows at you and turned on his heels, heading back upstairs with haste.

______________________________________________________________

You found yourself wide awake again, tossing and turning in bed as you struggled to find a comfortable sleeping position. Your stomach was churning and your mind was whirring with thoughts, mostly of Travis.

The gentle wind whistled through the trees and although the sound would usually ease you into a restful slumber, tonight it only mocked you and your inability to sleep at all.

Pulling the blanket away from your body, you felt the cool air wash over your skin and you sat up onto the edge of the bed. Your toes rested on the hardwood flooring and you rubbed your eyes roughly with the heels of your hands. Shaking your head, you stood up, heading straight for the bedroom door, your feet having no attempt to stay quiet. You quickly grasped the handle and pulled it down, opening the door and making your way down the corridor.

Your eyes strained to see in the dark and you held your hands out in front to guide you. When you reached the right door, you took a breath, your fist raising higher, a gentle knock alerting the person inside.

"Yeah?" Travis' muffled voice rang out through the door.

You quickly entered the room, pressing your back against the wood once you were inside. Your eyes fell onto Travis, relaxing in bed and scrolling through his phone. The sheets covered his body from the waist down, the fabric lightly draped across his legs. His bare chest made your knees slightly weak, his bulging arm muscles only making you worse.

He stared to you, dropping his phone to his side, "Y/N, is everything okay?"

You held onto the door behind you, "It is now." You breathed.

Travis raised an eyebrow, "I don't understand?"

"No, neither do I." You smiled and shook your head, "But as I was laid in bed just now, struggling to sleep...I realised that I just wanted to see you."

Travis' face lit up as he listened to your words.

"I always want to see you. I used to make sure I walked past the football field on my way to classes to double my chances of seeing you that day. After graduation, I made any excuse to go to back to Ohio just in case you were around. And I don't know why I'm telling you this-"

"I'm glad you are." Travis interrupted.

You pushed yourself from the door, taking a space on his bed, "No, but this is the thing. I have no idea what I want from this, I don't know. It would be so complicated-"

Travis shuffled closer to you, "It doesn't have to be."

"No, it would be. Because I am. I am complicated. My life...I've had some pretty fucked up things happen and I really don't want to drag you into it all."

Travis eye's flickered between yours, "I don't care, if it meant having you, bring it on." He reached out and held your hand in his.

You looked down at the bed and sighed, "I'm being serious, Travis. It's the reason I've moved around so much."

You paused as Travis stared intently, waiting patiently for you to open up to him.

"I...was with a guy. For a long time but slowly...slowly things didn't seem right anymore. He...he-"

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, or if you can't right now." Travis' soft voice soothed you, his gentle touch on your hand easing your growing worries.

You closed your eyes and lowered your head, taking a long breath. You wanted him to know, you wanted him to understand but your head was telling you that it was all too much, too soon.

You shook your head and looked back into Travis' caring gaze, "It's late, I should go back."

You looked into his eyes, your heartbeat rising into your throat as he licked his lips. You leaned forward as he did the same, pushing the sheets away from his legs. His scent surrounded you and your skin tingled with how close you were to him, his hand slowly moving up your arm.

"Y/N, you wanna stay here?"

You nodded, your breathing becoming heavier and heavier. Travis' eyes widened and both of his hands moved to your waist, pulling your body slightly closer to him. The room seemed to fade away and all you could hear was your own heartbeat as Travis slowly leaned in and laid his lips onto yours. You stayed still, allowing his mouth to move across yours with ease. Your eyes fluttered closed and you slowly tilted your head to the side, parting your lips and allowing the kiss to deepen. You felt his hand move up to the side of your face, his fingers tangled in your hair. The kiss was passionate, but gentle and soft. You inhaled, allowing your own hands to explore him. His buzzed hair, sharp facial hair, solid shoulders and warm chest sent your senses into overdrive, your hands dragging themselves down his body. Travis shifted on the bed, allowing you to turn yourself more so that you were facing him. His thumb ran across your cheek, your skin tingling with goose bumps. When he pulled away from the kiss, his eyes opened and settled onto you, his gaze darting around your facial features with adoration.

His bottom lip twitched for a second before he took a breath, "We can just...lie here if you want? If you want to get some sleep?"

You smiled and shook your head, "No, I don't want to sleep anymore."

Travis' eyebrows lowered, just enough for you to notice, a slight expression of confusion before his hand returned to your face. His lips connected with yours once again, but with some more pressure and passion than before. With one hand keeping your balance on the bed, you rotated yourself and laid down, pulling Travis on top of you. His frame loomed over you, slightly to one side and his right hand roamed your body. His fingers dug into your hips, grabbing at you roughly and desperately. You writhed underneath him as he shifted himself fully on top of you, using his knees to pull apart your legs. His mouth moved to your neck and you gasped for air once you were free from the kiss. Travis hummed against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh my God." Travis mumbled between kisses.

Your fingers ran up his bare back, "Are you sure about this?"

You waited for a response but Travis was too busy laying soft kisses down to your collarbone.

You tapped him lightly on his shoulder, "Like, are you sure this is what you want?"

His head lifted quickly, his mouth formed into a wide grin, "Are you kidding? This is all I've wanted!"

You smiled back at him, pulling his face to yours and as his arms slid underneath you, you wrapped your legs around his waist. His tongue slipped into your mouth, running it along your own and causing you to groan with pleasure. Something inside of you began to tighten, a burning sensation growing up into your chest. Your pussy throbbed and you could feel a wetness beginning to form on your pyjama shorts, Travis' hard mound pressing into you. One of Travis' hands roamed down to your ass, squeezing the firm but voluptuous flesh before sliding down to your thighs, his touch leaving goose bumps in their wake. His fingers danced at the hem of your shorts, gently lifting it and stroking your soft skin underneath.

You flinched as his touch grew closer to your slit and Travis quickly pulled away from you, studying your expression carefully.

"Are you okay?" He said, his voice thick with concern.

You nodded with closed eyes and cleared your throat, "Yeah, yeah...I'm fine. Sorry."

Travis lifted his chest away from you, his eyebrows furrowed, "Are you sure? We can stop if you want?"

You could feel your eyes moistening, "I...I'm sorry."

He stroked your hair gently before helping you to sit up, "No, no. You have nothing to be sorry for."

You sniffed and shook your head, "I want this, I really do."

"Hey, stop." He whispered, "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

Your heart swelled as he spoke, his sweet and caring nature making you smile.

He tenderly pushed some hair behind your ear, his hand lingering at your cheek for a few seconds, "How about we just get some sleep? Apparently, I'm a pretty good big spoon?" He winked, followed by his classic charming smile.

The corners of your mouth curved upwards as you giggled, "Yeah, okay. Thank you, Travis."

He shifted himself over to your side as you laid back onto the bed, "It's okay. I got you."

His arm rested itself across your stomach before pulling you closer to him, the curves of your body fitting perfectly alongside him. You felt his lips lay a gentle kiss on your temple, his soft and steady breathing relaxing you completely as your chest began to rise and fall with his.

______________________________________________________________

I finally got it out! I'm sorry to everyone who has been waiting but I've had a very busy couple of weeks! This story has a couple of more episodes left in it and if I'm completely honest, I'm going to miss it! If you want to be added to my Taglist, please let me know and I will of course add you to it so you never miss another chapter!

Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles @macey234 @s294749w @kelcemesoftly @calirindo @livinginmyfantasies @bernelflo @secretmywritingfictionlawyer @killatravtramp @there-goes-thefighter @unicornblueberry @calirindo @tjkelce87 @kristinamae093 @kmc1989 @ajbird18 @triski73 @ctn26 @kgcaputo07

#travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine #kelce x reader #nfl imagine #original story #travis kelce fic #travis kelce #travis kelce fluff #nfl fluff #travis kelce smut #travis kelce angst #nfl smut #nfl angst #nfl fic

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shuadotcom · 1 year

Text

Polaroid Love | KMG

Summary: The prospect of meeting Mingyu’s family has you feeling a new emotion that you’ve never felt with anyone else.

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x GN!Reader

Genres & AUs: Fluff, slice of life, established relationship au, college au

Rating: PG15

Warnings: Profanity, a make-out scene, mention of something suggestive but otherwise just fluffy

Words: 4.8k

Note: This was supposed to be posted on Mingyu’s birthday, but life happened so here it is now! Thank you to my wonderful beta @playmetheclassics ily Indi mwah! 😘 This banner took me like an hour to make in canva and I’m very proud of it thank you very much. Anyway I love Mingyu 🙂

Net tag: @kflixnet

“Please? It'll be fun!”

“No.”

“Please? You just have to show up and talk to a couple of my family members. It's not a big deal.”

“Mingyu, no.”

“Pleaseeee!”

“I said no, Gyu!”

A chorus of shushes is heard after your outburst, along with glares from the other library patrons. Bowing your head quickly, you whisper apologies while your boyfriend giggles from next to you. A light pinch to his thigh stops him, though.

“Ow!” Mingyu whines, rubbing the sore spot. “That hurt! You're always so mean.”

Rolling your eyes at his dramatics, you stare at your book again. “Don’t be such a baby.”

He’s about to respond when you’re interrupted by your best friend and roommate nearly colliding with your table.

“Did you guys hear!?” Jeongyeon is out of breath as she harshly whispers at you.

“Did we hear what, that you're in love with Park Jimin? The whole campus knows.” You laugh and dodge the pen she throws at you.

“No, smartass! We're going away for spring break.”

“Who is we?”

“All of us! You two, me, Soonyoung, Hansol, Junhui, everyone. Jeonghan was able to convince Seungcheol to help drive us all to the beach for the break.”

“How the hell did he accomplish that? I remember when we brought it up a few months ago, Seungcheol said he’d rather do a pop quiz every day over break before taking all of us anywhere.”

Jeongyeon shrugs. “Who knows? You know Cheol can never say no to Jeonghan.”

“How many vans do you think we'll need to get?” Mingyu asks, leaning over the table in excitement.

Jeongyeon taps her finger against her chin in thought. “Maybe two? There’ll be fifteen of us, so it depends on how many seats they have.”

“Oh, only fifteen? I would’ve thought Jimin would be coming,” you tease, watching her get flustered at another mention of her crush’s name.

“I - I don’t even know what he’s doing for the break.”

“Ask him and see if he’s free. Maybe if you're lucky, you guys will get to sit next to each other for the whole drive.” You watch Jeongyeon's eyes widen, and you can practically hear her mind running at full speed in thought. “Well, I'll leave you with that thought. I'm off to lunch.” You stand up and gather your books with Mingyu right behind you.

“Poor Noona. You’ve left her in there to stress about how she’ll ask Jimin-hyung on the trip," he chuckles, throwing an arm over your shoulders.

Rolling your eyes, you wave off his concern. “She’s fine, I promise. She’s been into him for about two years and frothing at the mouth for a chance to get closer to him. He likes her too if the way he practically drools over her whenever they are within a five-foot radius of each other is any indication. One of them needs to suck it up and ask the other out because they're torturing themselves.”

“If it’ll help, I can talk to Jungkook about it during class later and see if I can get him to mention it to him.”

“Good idea, Gyu,” you praise him, placing a kiss on his hand that’s dangling over your shoulder.

He squeezes your shoulder in response, pulling you closer to his body. “Don’t worry about it. The only thing you need to worry about is picking out an outfit.”

Skeptically you crane your neck up to look at him, brows furrowed. “For what?”

“For my family reunion.”

“No.”

“Please?!”

“I said no. I'm not going.”

“But-”

“No.” You reach the cafeteria then and slip from Mingyu’s embrace. He has a class in the building next door, so you know he won’t pester you anymore for at least an hour.

“Baby!”

“See you later, Gyu!” You blow him a kiss and slip inside before he can say anything else.

The rest of the week is crammed with last-minute assignments, everyone making plans for spring break, and Mingyu bringing up the family reunion any chance he gets.

It's not that you don’t want to go because you dislike Mingyu's family or anything. You’ve never actually met them, which in itself is the real problem. What if they don’t like the way you look? What if they don’t think you’re good enough for Mingyu? What if they end up hating you completely?

You’re not usually one to worry too much about what people think of you, but the idea of anyone as close to Mingyu as his family not liking you fills you with an immeasurable amount of dread. You’ve been dating for nearly a year, and you care about him more than anyone else you’ve ever been with. You’re lucky enough to have been able to fall into his friend group so easily and get along with everyone, but his family is so much deeper than that. You’re not sure you can handle someone like his mom taking one look at you and deciding you’re not right for her son.

You have a few weeks before the reunion, so you figure if you can deny him enough times, he'll forget about it and stop bringing it up. So far, your plan is failing miserably, though, as every other day, he’s bringing it up in person or sending you message after message about it.

You’ll be the first to admit that you have a problem opening up and talking about your feelings. You tend to bottle your emotions up inside, keeping them tucked close to you and have been that way as long as you can remember. Because of this, you’ve yet to tell Mingyu the real reason you keep turning him down, at least not yet, not until you can gather the courage to dive into your feelings more.

It’s been a week since you’ve been trying to deter the reunion conversation with Mingyu, at times even turning down hanging out with him completely to doge the topic, citing you being too busy with assignments, which is half-true. Running from your feeling is the other half of that excuse, but he doesn’t need to know that yet.

After your last class on Friday ends, you head to the library, hoping to finish your homework before meeting Jeongyeon for dinner and starting the weekend. While you’re on the last question of your sociology assignment, a noticeable shadow appears over your table. When you glance up, Wonwoo, Mingyu’s roommate, is staring down at you with a stoic expression.

“Yes?”

“Mingyu is very distressed.”

“And?”

“And you should fix it. He's been moping around our room all day and blowing up the group chat nonstop. He keeps whining about how you won't go to his family reunion and meet his family.”

“He's a drama queen,” you mumble. Wonwoo sighs and leans over the table in front of you. Wonwoo is probably one of the guys in your large group of friends you were closest with, besides your boyfriend, of course. The tall, dark-haired man seemed intimidating and cold when you first met, but his looks are deceiving. Wonwoo is nothing but sweet and funny and has proven to be a great listener when you needed to vent when Jeongyeon or Mingyu weren’t around.

“He really likes you, you know. He doesn't shut up about you when you're not around, and it kind of makes the rest of us want to strangle him.” Wonwoo lets out a laugh and looks back at you as you avoid his gaze.

“Look, he wants you to meet his family because he's serious about you. He's only dated three other people in his whole life, and none of them met his family beyond maybe his parents and sister here and there. He never even mentioned bringing any of them around his entire family, so think about that.” He stands upright after his words, giving you one more look.

“I don’t want to pry, so I won’t ask you to tell me why you won’t go, but just know it’s more important to him than he’s probably said to you.” With that, Wonwoo sends you a wave that you feebly return before leaving you alone in your corner of the library.

The thought of just how important the reunion is to Mingyu hadn’t been something you thought about. And the knowledge of you being the only partner of his to meet his whole family has butterflies taking flight in your stomach and dread washing over you. Something new and foreign stirs in your chest at that moment, which has your mind whirling.

Quickly, you stand up and gather your things, sending a brief text to Jeongyeon to bring dinner to your shared room because you have something very important to discuss with her.

Your dorm building is just as busy as it usually is when you get inside, with students kicking soccer balls in the hallways, leaving their doors open while they blast music, or loitering in the halls and chatting. You take the stairs to the second floor to successfully dodge Joshua, who you glimpse heading into the elevator down the hall. Wonwoo had only cornered you to give you a small lecture, but you’re sure Joshua won’t hesitate to bring it up and try to press a little as to why you keep turning Mingyu down.

When you round the corner of your hall, you spot Jeongyeon already there, hanging outside your room while conversing with one of the younger men in your group of friends.

“Beat it, Chan.”

“What?” A look of surprise flashes over his face as he looks between the two of you.

“You heard me. Leave.”

“But earlier this morning Jeongyeon-noona said I could eat dinner with you guys tonight!”

“Yeah, well, Jeongyeon and I have something very important to discuss, and you're not invited.” His intense pout instantly makes you feel bad.

“Sorry, Chan,” you sigh. “I just really have to talk to her about something that’s kind of an emergency. Can we take a rain check?” You soften your tone, hoping to lessen his disappointment.

Chan glances at Jeongyeon, who shrugs. “Alright, fine,” he relents. “But you have to buy me a snack next time for being mean.”

“Deal,” you roll your eyes at both him and the smirk on his face. “I think your boyfriend needs some company anyway. Bye!” He meets your gaze, chuckling at the face you give him, which you know is one of exasperation. You wait until he’s down the hall before turning to face Jeongyeon.

“I guess you weren't joking in your text about something ‘life-changing and imperative’. What's going on?” She asks as she unlocks the door.

“Well, I haven't told you something because I just wanted to keep it to myself because I hoped it would go away soon, but Mingyu is stubborn, so it hasn't.”

“Which is exactly why you two are meant for one another.” You shoot Jeongyeon a look and snatch one of the bento boxes from her hands.

“Could you hang back on the sarcasm while I talk? And just let me get it all out first.”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead. I'm all ears.”

You each sit on your respective beds facing each other, and you let the word vomit flow. You recount Wonwoo’s words about the family reunion to her and what he had told you about Mingyu’s past partners, and how much this all means to him. You also let out your feelings that you’ve been trying to keep to yourself - about your insecurities and worries about making a good impression and the guilt nagging at you every time you turn Mingyu down.

“This is just so important to him, and I can't even do this one thing! The thought of all of those people there judging me for my major or the way I look or the outfit I decide to wear, or literally anything about me! It's way too overwhelming, and every time I think about it, I go into panic mode, and I start to feel anxious and itchy. I’m terrified that they won’t like me, Jeongyeon.

“What if they try to tell Gyu to break up with me or something? What if we get there, and he sees me being weird and awkward, and I make a bad impression, and he decides that I’m not who he thought I was, and he wants to break up with me on his own? But then I’m so guilty about disappointing him and not going, and I feel like I lose whether I say no to him or whether I go and then fuck everything up. I just don't know what to do!” You let out a groan and flop backwards on the bed. Your forgotten dinner, now getting cold, jostles on the bed next to you.

The room is quiet for a few minutes before Jeongyeon speaks. “You love him.”

You sit up so quickly that your head starts to hurt. “What did you say?”

“I said you love him. That's why you feel so guilty and are so confused. I've known you since we were teenagers, Y/n. You are one of the most stubborn people I have ever met. When you don't want to do something, you simply don't, and you don't give it much of a second thought. Of course, you consider doing things you don’t want to for me and your other friends, but this is different!”

Jeongyeon hops off her bed to sit next to you, offering you a comforting back rub. “You feel the way you do because you love Mingyu, and you’re scared that his family won’t like you, which will break your heart, and you don’t want to lose him.”

You don’t respond to her, so she continues.

“If you want my opinion, I think you should go to the reunion. If you want to stay with Mingyu and keep this relationship going, you’ll have to meet his family eventually. You can’t hide from them forever if you stay together. Plus, I’m willing to bet he feels the same. Mingyu looks at you as if you are an actual ethereal being and like you’re the center of his world. I don’t think you have to worry about his reaction when and if you decide to tell him the truth about everything you’re feeling.”

Jeongyeon’s expression is soft as she looks at you, waiting for your response and giving you time to process everything.

Do you love Mingyu? Sure, you love spending time with him. He’s the most attentive, sweetest, kind-hearted partner you’ve ever had. He pays attention to every detail about you, whether your likes and dislikes or silly, arbitrary things. Every day with him feels like a dream, and you often wonder how the hell you got so lucky to end up with a boyfriend as amazing as Kim Mingyu.

Being with Mingyu is the happiest you’ve ever been, and the idea of loving him - of him being the first person you’ve ever been in true, genuine love with is uncharted waters for you. The mere idea of losing him leaves a gaping hole in your chest - the hypothetical of that situation alone makes your eyes water. Not hugging Mingyu? Not holding hands or sharing laughter with him? Not seeing his beautiful, perfect face in the morning as he snores just the tiniest bit? You and Mingyu haven’t been together for that long, but any world where you have a Mingyu-shaped piece missing from your life isn’t one you ever want to think about.

As if sensing you deep in thought, Jeongyeon gives you a final pat before leaving you alone. She grabs the rest of her dinner, letting you know she’ll be back later and mumbling something about “finally having a breakthrough and needing to take care of something.” You bid her farewell with a simple nod, reaching for your bento box to quiet your grumbling stomach. Eating in silence, you try to sort through the jumbled mess in your head, digesting the new thoughts and feelings you’re experiencing, all for the first stressful time.

You stay holed up in your dorm room the rest of the weekend, thankful now more than ever that you managed to get a schedule with only weekday classes.

Mingyu, being the caring boyfriend he is, knows something is wrong on Saturday morning right away. When you wake up, you have a few texts from him, asking to see you and take you out.

His desperation to check in with you and see you are obvious, even through written words, which makes it hard to turn him away.

[Y/n] I want to be alone this weekend, okay, Gyu? I’m not feeling very social.

[Gyu💖] Are you sure? Is everything okay?

[Y/n] Yeah, I just want alone time, okay? 🙂

[Gyu💖] 🥺

[Gyu💖] Okay, baby. Whatever you want ❤️

You can practically hear the pout in his text, and it feels shitty to turn him away, but you need more time. Since Friday night, when Jeongyeon had planted the seed in your brain, you decide it would be best to avoid Mingyu just to get your thoughts in order.

Jeongyeon passes along the message to the rest of your friends that you’re fine and just need some alone time. It’s the only thing that quiets your phone and stops your various group chats from continuing to go off. Everyone is kind enough to respect your wishes though, allowing you to spend the two days drowning in your thoughts and eating almost half of your and Jeongyeon’s instant ramen stash. It was probably dramatic to hide away all weekend, but it helped you wake up on Monday with a clearer head.

“I hope you plan on talking to Mingyu today,” Jeongyeon says as you get ready for your Monday morning lecture. “I saw him yesterday when I was eating lunch, and he looked like a lost, sad puppy without you there bossing him around. All he needed was a rainstorm and a choreography routine, and he would’ve looked straight out of an early 2000s break-up song music video.”

The image makes you laugh just a little before frowning and feeling bad for leaving him hanging all weekend.

“I am, I promise. I just needed to get my shit together.”

The two of you head out across campus to your shared lecture hall. Mingyu has class is in the building on the other side of campus, so you won’t have to see him for a couple of hours, giving you plenty of time to calm your nerves.

That idea is dismissed when you get inside and spot him by your classroom door. Mingyu’s long legs allow him to reach you in an instant, gently grabbing your arm and whisking you around the corner and into the stairwell. You can already tell he’s unhappy just by the look on his face.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Is the first thing out of his mouth.

“What?”

“I asked if you’re breaking up with me. I know you said you needed time alone, and Jeongyeon told us all the same thing, mentioning that you were just taking a couple of mental health days, but does that mean that you’re breaking up with me and were just taking time to think about doing it?”

“Mingyu, I-”

“Is it because I keep pressuring you to meet my family? You don't have to!”

“It's not that I just-”

“Am I too annoying? I swear I won’t bring it up again! And if there’s anything else that I do that’s too annoying or immature, just tell me, and I'll change, I promise!"

“Mingyu, you don't understand. I just need to-”

“No, you don't understand! I really like you, okay, Y/n? I like you more than anyone I’ve ever dated. Just going two days without being around you killed me! That, on top of the fact that I couldn't even call you or see your face, made it so much worse! I just wanted to break down your door and come in and hold you in my arms even though you'd probably be yelling at me the whole time. I just hated the thought of you being unhappy, and I couldn’t do anything about it.” Mingyu looks almost near tears as he takes in a big breath.

“I don't care if you say that it's too soon, but I just need to say that I think I'm in love with you! You don't have to feel the same yet or say it back, I just needed to say it. Even if you think I'm foolish or that I don't know anything, and-”

“Kim Mingyu, I love you too!” You yank the front of his shirt and pull him closer.

“What did you just say?” Your forehead rests against his, his brown eyes wide as he gapes at you.

“I said that I love you too. That's what I was doing this weekend. I needed time to think about my feelings and figure out if I was in love with you, and I am. I felt bad about saying no to meeting your family, and I felt like such a terrible partner, and I couldn't figure out why, but I was able to think about it, and goddammit, I love you. I love you a lot, and it scares me because I don’t think I’ve ever truly been in love, but I know that I love you.”

You barely have the chance to catch your breath from your speech before Mingyu is leaning down and stealing the air left in your lungs. He presses you against the wall as your arms wind around his neck, and you sigh into the kiss, indulging in the familiar, comforting taste that is Kim Mingyu. He drags his tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you immediately grant him. The kiss easily deepens as your tongues intertwine, and his grip on your waist gets tighter. If you hadn't needed to breathe, you would've spent the rest of the day exactly the way you are.

Mingyu pulls away, allowing you to breathe, both of you panting, flushed, and smiling like idiots at each other.

“You love me,” Mingyu whispers.

“I love you.”

“Say it again,” you roll your eyes at the wonderful, wide grin he shoots you but repeat yourself, punctuating it with a quick kiss on the tiny mole on his nose.

“And I love you too.” Mingyu murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours before capturing your lips once again. Your hands move to his hair, fingers grabbing at his soft strands.

“Ahem!” A sudden voice makes the two of you spring apart. When you glance to the doorway, you see Jeongyeon waiting, her face serious and her arms crossed. “Hey, so this is cute and all, don't get me wrong, but we have a lecture to get to like now, Y/n.��

Groaning, Mingyu peeks over his shoulder at Jeongyeon. “Fine, I'll let go.” When he turns back to you still in his arms, a different expression clouds his features. “But this evening, after your last class, I'm coming to your room, and you're all mine.” His words and the look in his eyes make your face heat up, already knowing what you have to look forward to tonight.

“O - okay,” you croak, clearing your throat. Mingyu gives you one more kiss before slipping past Jeongyeon and waving at you both down the hall.

“Ugh, please don't tell me you guys are going to have sex in our room. What about me?!”

You snap out of the trance your boyfriend left you in and side-eye your best friend. “What about you? Why don't you go do the same with Jimin while we're busy? I may have barricaded myself in our room, but I still have a way of knowing things. Like how Professor Ok caught you two making out and having quite the heavy petting session in the back of the cafeteria yesterday.” Jeongyeon’s jaw drops as her cheeks begin to turn bright red.

“How did you know that?!”

“I have my ways.” You smirk as she follows you into your lecture. Even though you were a recluse all weekend, you still checked your phone from time to time. A celebratory message from Seungkwan in your group chat with a few other nosey friends confirmed the news and everyone was relieved to finally have confirmation that Jeongyeon and Jimin had admitted their feelings for one another.

“All I know is, it's about damn time.” You practically skip to your seat, leaving Jeongyeon stuttering out an excuse behind you.

“I'm not moving this van until you all have your seat belts on.” Seungcheol eyes all of you in the rearview mirror and waits until he hears the click of seat belts to pull out of the campus parking lot.

After much debate, all of you decide to spend the week in a hotel near the closest beach to you. Winter has officially left, and spring is now in its place, with weather warm enough for shorts and tank tops. You had all chipped in to rent a fifteen-passenger van and are leaving campus at eight in the morning, thanks to Seokmin’s nagging about getting the best spot on the sand.

Once the van starts to move, Jeongyeon turns around to the row of seats behind her and lays her head on the back of the seat. You look up from your phone to meet her gaze, already knowing what she’s going to ask.

“So, how was the reunion? I didn't get a chance to ask you since you guys got back.” You and Mingyu had gotten back from his parent's house the night before when Jeongyeon was asleep, and with the excitement of getting ready to leave this morning, the two of you hadn’t gotten much time to talk about it.

“It was really fun, actually. His family was super nice and accepting. He threw a fit at one point because his little sister and one of his cousins were attached to my hip. His mom threatened to show me any and every embarrassing picture of him she had if he didn’t stop acting like a baby and that worked.” You let out a quiet snicker, glancing at Mingyu, asleep on your shoulder.

“She was seriously so sweet, though. And the only time I embarrassed myself was when we were going into the house to help her with some of the food, and she said something along the lines of ‘When you two get married,’ which made me trip, and Gyu had to catch me before I ate dirt.”

Jeongyeon stifles a laugh, covering it with a cough. “Well, hey, at least she likes you! You were worried over nothing.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But oh! I take it Jimin had other plans for break?”

She flushes, nodding. “Yeah, he already had a trip booked with his friends, so he couldn’t come. We have a date planned for when we both get back to school, though, so I’m excited about that.” A dopey smile plays on her lips, and you coo at the gesture.

“I’m so glad you two finally admitted that you like each other!”

“Me too!” Soonyoung pipes up from next to Jeongyeon. “Do you know how annoying it was to hear Jimin gush over you in dance class every week? I swear, every time we were partnered up, his first questions were always about how you were doing and if you were seeing anyone. I can only answer back ‘fine’ and ‘no’ so many times before I lose my mind!”

“Shut it, Soonyoung! I thought you were asleep!” He ignores Jeongyeon and turns in his seat to face you.

“I hope I don’t have to hear him talk even more about how great she is! I don’t think I can stand fifty minutes of him running how mouth about how much he likes her and all the dates they go on and how good she is in bed and -”

Jeongyeon sucks her teeth, snatching his tiger plushie from his hands and hitting him over the head with it a few times. “You know all about running your mouth, don’t you?! Stop talking about my relationship!”

“I’m sorry, stop it! Y/n, get her!”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you!” Popping your earbuds in, you gesture to your now occupied ears, dramatically shrugging at your friends.

Mingyu stirs next to you, and you can’t help but brush away a stray piece of hair from his face. The commotion barely phases him as he adjusts to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his face into your neck.

Aside from Jeongyeon threatening Soonyoung’s life, everyone else is either chatting quietly with each other or sleeping, the energy low from getting up so early, but you’re nowhere near tired, still feeling full of warmth and admiration for Mingyu’s family and how well they treated you. Instead of trying to sleep, you settle for laying your head on top of Mingyu's and simply enjoying the warmth of your boyfriend the man that you are wholeheartedly in love with.

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twst-drabbles · 6 months

Text

The World, Chewed and Spat Out 7

Summary: There’s no need for them to worry about pain. Not ever again.

“…Hello there, Jade. Took you long enough to take interest in this conversation.“

No matter how seamlessly the form may change, it always looked painful when one’s face was swapped with another. It resembled a rapidly growing infection that boiled the skin and changed its color before it finally settled down into a recognizable shape.

“I didn’t think you had it in you to drive him away,” he mused, hand on his mouth as though he was truly shocked, “was his company so grating that you needed another conversation partner?”

“I don’t need one,” you flecked sand at Jade, as though that’ll do anything. In the many faces of one that can corrode a world, your anger will mean nothing, “though, I can’t say you’re wrong. But it’s not as if you’re any better.”

“Then how about me?”

A sharp slice, like a butcher’s knife through fresh meat. Jade was split clean down the middle. The left half fell into the waters, frothing as tainted oil would, before Floyd rose with a sharp grin that had too many teeth to count. Jade’s side oozed out ink, solidified, then he looked like himself again, as though nothing had ever happened.

There’s no need for them to worry about pain. Not ever again.

You stared, eyes reflecting a soft and dying light, “No matter the face, conversations with you will always be grating. But I am lonely, and I’m a fool that cares too much.”

“Does it really matter though?” Floyd leaned back, giving his arms a good stretch, “It’s not like Jade and I went anywhere. We’re just…”

“Part of an interesting whole,” Jade had his hand over his heart, as though talking about a friend.

“It was gross at first. Hurt a lot too,” and yet, Floyd shrugged, “But eh, don’t really care about it anymore. Nothing much we can do about it anyway.”

You closed your eyes, giving a low, shaking sigh. There wasn’t even a spirit in you for rebellion.

“This is for the best,” Jade says, “at the time, it was our best chance for survival.”

“Yeah, and in these cold waters, taking the time to weigh the pros and cons will get you killed.” Floyd says.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #the world chewed and spat out #octavinelle #eldritch au #reader insert

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 2 years

Note

For the OTP ask, could I get 3, 4, 5, 8, 19, 22, 28, 38, 41, and 50 for Jake and Ronnie in your werewolf au?

oh M you are so sweet I can't <3 <3 thank you so much for sending these in!! prepare for me to simply ramble about my fav couple in the universe...

3. Who hogs the cover/Who loves to cuddle?

Somehow both of these are Jake lol he hogs the blankets entirely on accident (which is why Ronnie always keeps a throw stashed in her nightstand) and the man would cuddle with her literally all day every day if life would allow

4. Who wakes the other one up with kisses?

Ronnie does! She always wakes up before him (never by a wide margin) and he's just so pretty and cuddly she can't help it

5. Who usually has nightmares?

Jake. The boy has been through it. When he does have nightmares they're usually about the night he killed Bellmoral, because no matter how terrible he was that still weighs heavy on Jake's conscience. On very rare nights he'll dream about the night he was turned. He'll wake up heart racing, claws and fangs out, and Ronnie has to talk him down - hold him the rest of the night. He worries one day that he'll hurt her. But she never has any doubt that she's safe with him.

8. Who sleeps in their underwear (or naked)/ Who sleeps in their pajamas?

Jake 1000000% just sleeps in his briefs. If he could walk around all the time in just his underwear he would. Ronnie wears pajamas though. Mostly old t-shirts (or Jake's old shirts if we're being honest) and comfy cotton shorts.

19. Who loves to call the other one cute names?

I mean, Jake just kinda has the one name that he calls her (little one) though he does call her just like babe or sweets sometimes. But Ronnie has a myriad of names that she calls Jake because she loves making this Alpha blush (My Alpha (his fav), baby, babe, darling, honey, my boy, sugar, etc.)

22. Who goes all out for Valentine's Day?

JAKE. jake jake jake. it's part of that mate instinct to provide and he will take literally any excuse to pamper the shit out of Ronnie. He takes her to dinner, sunset walks, does the whole candlelit bath thing, buys her chocolates and flowers and pieces of jewelry that he made himself. Ronnie always buys him the same thing every year though. A new set of lingerie for him to rip off with his teeth.

28. Who is the book worm?

Ronnie my absolute werewolf nerd. She loves reading anything history (especially werewolf history). When she is actually living with Jake he shows her all the journals and diaries and tomes that the Bellmorals have kept in the pack house over the years and she is literally frothing at the mouth. She is a huge fucking dork and Jake loves it. He lays his head on her stomach while she reads out loud to him (though she constantly interrupts herself to talk about related facts and just how cool it is).

38. Who likes to star gaze?

Also Ronnie! On nights with the full moon when she is alone at the cabin, she'll just sit outside with some hot chocolate and watch the moon and stars for hours. It's calming in a way. To think that her ancestors looked at those same stars with the same amount of wonder.

41. Who cries during sad movies?

Ronnie again. It does not take a whole lot in a movie to make her cry. Sometimes even a good orchestral score will make her teary-eyed. They'll be sitting there watching a movie and Jake will hear the sniffles start and be like "You okay?" She just tells him to shut up and he laughs. Jake cries too though, don't get me wrong. It just takes a lot more (character death, etc, major stuff) to get the tears flowing. But even then it's usually just like one or two then he's tapped out. Ronnie full-on weeps.

50. Who is the hopeless romantic?

Both of them? Ever since she was a little kid Ronnie has dreamed about finding her mate. She has read countless first-hand tales about her ancestors finding their mates and true love. Eventually, that dream died out (especially after she realized she was fully human and having a mate was a 1/1000 chance) but she still believed in soulmates, just maybe not the kind destined by a goddess in the sky. And Jake? Well, Jake just loves love and when he was told about mates and how soul mates are basically real, he was kinda ecstatic about it. Though he kept his cool cause the chances of him meeting his mate were pretty slim, especially since he was in Red Sky and shit was going downhill fast.

Thanks again M!! These were so fun to think about and write about lol I hope people like learning a little more about my fav mated pair

#annie answers #otp things #oc: ronnie bradshaw #fic: the echo (or the answer)#fd: top gun #werewolf au #werewolf!topgun #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman #alpha!jake #alpha!hangman #werewolf!jake #werewolf!hangman #jake hangman seresin x oc #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #alpha!jake x ronnie

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

Merlin Scar Reveal Part 2(final part)

Merlin tries to pretend nothing happened, Arthur says “that’s stupid.”

Part 1

Merlin’s nightmares last for the rest of the afternoon and extend well into the night.

The heat certainly doesn’t help, and it takes all of Gaius’ effort to keep his temperature low enough to not boil him from the inside out, but he manages with help from the knights. Mordred and Lancelot refuse to leave the servant’s side of course, but the others loiter in the corridor the entire time, and take turns sprinting to the cold store and kitchens for ice water and cloths.

It was difficult to stand there waiting, being given scraps of information on Merlin’s condition, especially when most of the scraps consist of something along the lines of “Hopefully he’ll snap out of it by the morning.”, which was certainly not helped when the occasional whimper floated out to them from the young servant’s room.

After a few hours, Leon was the one to draw the short straw to go and talk to Arthur. Whilst all of them were mildly miffed that Arthur had pushed Merlin so far, they knew that ultimately, it was all of their faults. All of them had pushed him, and none of them had protected him from being injured in the first place. None of them knew how much he had suffered, was still suffering. Considering Arthur’s... extra feelings for his servant, it was no wonder he’d reacted even worse than the others.

The First Knight agrees to go, knowing he had the best chance of talking some sense into The King, though he refuses to leave until he sees each of the others settle in their beds; it had been a long day, and would likely be an even longer day tomorrow. They all need as much sleep as they can get.

Arthur doesn’t answer when Leon knocks on his door, but the knight lets himself in after a few moment regardless, doing so quietly so as not to startle the man if he was asleep or, more likely, deep in thought.

The King was sat at his desk, chin resting on his hands, and Leon has to stamp down the surge of protective adrenaline in his lungs when he sees the dry tear tracks on the younger man’s face. He doesn’t notice Leon’s presence, not even when he very deliberately clears his throat, so the knight walks over to him slowly, rapping his knuckles harshly on the desk. That finally catches Arthur’s attention, and he looks up with a start, hands reaching for the sword that Leon knows he has hidden under the desk.

The King lets out a deep breath and relaxes back in his seat when he sees that it’s just Leon, hastily wiping his eyes before clearing his throat and looking up with a fake confidence:

“Sir Leon, what can I do for you?”

Leon just raises an eyebrow, but when Arthur holds strong and doesn’t react he lets out a deep sigh and collapses into the seat on the other side of the desk:

“Come on, Arthur. We need to talk about this.”

Arthur gulps, trying to keep his unaffected façade up, but failing and dropping it after only a few moments; something about the soft, overly concerned look Leon was giving him made him want to wrap himself in blankets and sob himself to sleep. He frowns and just about manages to keep the tears in:

“Why wouldn’t he tell me? If not about the physical scars, then about all the times he’s been hurt. Does he not think I would’ve given him time to recover? Or, God forbid, helped him?”

Leon purses his lips slightly in thought, still having to make a concerted effort not to gather The King up in a tight hug as he considers his questions:

“I don’t think it’s about you, Arthur. Merlin is... a private person by nature, and he doesn’t like worrying people. You heard Mordred, he and Lance found out by accident, and even then Merlin tried to keep them away from it as long as possible.”

Arthur stands, the guilt and sadness in his gut now frothing with anger as well. He paces around to the centre of the room and Leon stands to watch him carefully:

“He can say it’s not about me as much as he wants, but I’m The King, Leon,-”

He whirls on the knight, and Leon clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to raise a mocking eyebrow. He knew to expect anger at some point, but that doesn’t mean Arthur was entitled to it:

“-I have a right to know what’s going on in my Kingdom. I should’ve been informed of Nimueh and Morgause’s deaths, I should’ve been informed that Cenred was torturing people for information. How many other countless adventures has Merlin had that have put himself, Me, the Kingdom in danger, simply because he didn’t want people to know much about him?? None of that was his call to make.”

Leon does raise an eyebrow at that, but Arthur was too busy furiously pacing to feel scolded quite yet. The older man crosses his arms and huffs slightly, waiting for The King to calm before responding:

“Be that as it may, that’s not why you’re angry. You can lie to yourself, Arthur, but you can’t lie to me, and you certainly shouldn’t lie to Merlin. If you go to him pretending that you’re angry because he put the Kingdom at risk, and not because you’re heartbroken at him having suffered so much, then he’ll never forgive you. And when you realise that, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Arthur looks to Leon sharply, but the anger drains from his face within seconds and his whole body sags slightly, the exhaustion of the day having caught up to him. A glance to the now dark window tells him that it’s well into the evening, but he can’t find it in himself to be annoyed at the unfinished paperwork on his desk or the hunger in his stomach from not having eaten since before noon, not when he knows Merlin is being tortured by nightmares and injuries that have long since healed. Injuries that he should never have had in the first place. Leon waits patiently for Arthur to respond:

“I don’t want him to be in pain. I just want to help him.”

His cracking admission has Leon give up on holding himself back, and he strides towards The King to pull him into a tight embrace. Arthur tenses at first, but quickly falls into the older man’s affection, accepting a hug for the first time since he was a child. Leon responds softly, aware that he only had a short time before Arthur pulled away and put his walls back up:

“Merlin’s already in pain, Arthur, but that doesn’t mean we can’t now help him.-”

He feels Arthur nod into his shoulder and squeezes the man tighter for a moment before pulling back, keeping a tight grip on The King’s shoulders:

“Come on, you need to get some sleep.”

Arthur’s tired, longing gaze moves to the paperwork spread haphazardly over his desk, and Leon shakes his head, tugging Arthur’s shoulders so he looks back at him:

“No, work isn’t an option, your mind is not in any sort of state to be productive right now. You’re exhausted, Arthur, a few hours of sleep will do you some good; I hate to say it but The Kingdom won’t stop needing attention whilst we... sort through this, and you’ll need the energy tomorrow.”

Arthur shakes his head, stepping back and rubbing his eyes tiredly as he takes a deep breath and straightens his back. Leon steps back as well, re-introducing the respectful distance that should be between a King and his Knight, waiting for Arthur’s no doubt stoic response:

“The councilmen will survive without me for a day or two, if not then that really should be something I’m made aware of so I can get to replacing them. Merlin and I need to...-”

He cuts himself off and clears his throat:

“-has there been any news? Any change?”

Leon shakes his head, but catches Arthur’s wrist when he begins walking towards the door:

“Arthur. I just about managed to convince everyone else to get some sleep and you need it more than them.-”

Arthur looks back indignantly, failing to portray his Kingly Anger in his exhaustion and looking more like a scolded child:

“-You know I’m right. Get some sleep, Gaius will inform you if anything changes.”

For a moment, it looks like Arthur wants to argue, but he quickly lets out a deep, bone weary sigh, nodding before moving sluggishly towards his bed. Leon nods approvingly, muttering a soft “Goodnight, My Lord” and smiling slightly at Arthur’s hummed response before quietly exiting the chambers.

Arthur can convince himself, for a few blissful seconds, that it was all a bad dream when he wakes up the next morning.

His curtains are thrown wide open; the sunlight streams in and forces The young King to groan and roll over, attempting to shield his eyes from the brightness. Merlin’s cheery voice echoes throughout the various chambers:

“Come on, Sire, up and at ‘em!”

Arthur just grumbles a slurred “Fuck off.” before his brain wakes up and he throws himself from the bed, thankfully wearing sleep clothes but only just managing to catch himself on the bedside table before he falls over:

“Merlin!! What the hell are you- are you ok?! Did Gaius say you could get up?!”

Merlin looks back at him with the same disapproving, mocking glare he usually uses in the morning; Arthur is taken aback at the darkness in his eyes. He can’t quite decide if it made it’s first appearance this morning, or if it had always been there and he just hadn’t noticed. He doesn’t know which idea he hates more:

“I’m fine, Arthur, no need to worry about me. And for your information, I’m a fully trained physician, I don’t need Gaius telling me what I can and can’t do.-”

He rolls his eyes and turns to The King’s desk with a huff, gesturing at the mess:

“-It’s flattering that you rely on me so much Arthur, but really, this is ridiculous.”

Arthur is finally broken out of his shocked stupor, shaking his head disbelievingly and taking a few short steps towards his manservant. He goes to yell but quickly backtracks, snapping his mouth shut and taking a deep breath before trying again, softly this time:

“Merlin... we have to talk about yesterday.”

Merlin’s reaction is immediate and harsh. The quill that he had picked up from Arthur’s desk snaps in his sudden tight grip and the tension in his shoulders is painful looking. He freezes for just a moment before forcing himself to relax, casually throwing the broken quill into a waste basket before continuing to organise the desk, refusing to look up at The King:

“No, we really don’t. I’m fine, My Lord.”

The lack of sarcasm or sass in Arthur’s title worries The King greatly, but the way Merlin regains more and more of the tension in his shoulders the closer Arthur walks to him is even more worrying:

“Merlin... look at me.-”

The servant gulps, biting his lip at he stares at the desk for a few more moments before forcing himself to look up. He recoils slightly at the tears in Arthur’s eyes, but doesn’t allow himself to look away. Arthur opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by the door to his chambers opening with a bang as Mordred and Lancelot rush in. They’re both red-faced and panting, speaking at the same time:

“I swear to the Gods if he snuck out of bed to work, I’ll-”

“I apologise My Lord, I don’t suppose you’ve seen-”

They both freeze as they see Merlin stood behind Arthur’s desk, paperwork crumpled in his tight grip and face fallen into a annoyed frown. Arthur throws his hands up, frustrated as he paces and mumbles:

"Just... come in why don’t you. No, don’t worry about knocking just run on in like you own the damn place.”

Lancelot spares him a quick glance but locks the door behind him and crosses his arms like an angry mother as he looks to the irate servant:

“Merlin, we’ve talked about this, you’re meant to take the morning off after a bad night, Gaius says-”

Merlin just rolls his eyes and turns away, interrupting Lancelot’s scolding as he continues to tidy around the room, his annoyance evident in his harsh tone and hurried movements:

“I’m a physician too, and I say I’m fine. I would like to just... get on with things, please.”

Arthur has to stop himself from recoiling at the way Lance and Mordred’s faces fall, the pain and grief sadder than anything he’s ever seen in their expressions before. He takes a moment to think before giving the two of them a pointed look and quietly asking:

“Can you give us a minute?”

Lancelot looks doubtful, but willing. Mordred plants his feet and crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t say anything, but it’s obvious he has no intention of leaving Merlin’s side; as much as Arthur finds that admirable on a personal level, as King it’s unacceptable. He’s normally not a fan of pulling rank among friends, but maybe that’s because he normally doesn’t need to. Perhaps this whole mess was his fault, Mordred obviously felt so, but Arthur could hardly fix it with them glaring over his shoulder. He raises himself to his full height, a good few inches above Mordred, and uses the tone of voice he normally reserves for particularly difficult councilmen:

“You forget whose presence you are in, Sir Mordred, you’d do well to remember again. You are both dismissed.”

Mordred’s eyes go wide and he takes in a sharp breath, but after a quick glance to Merlin’s turned back he dutifully bows and walks from the room stiffly. Lancelot’s postures straightens as well, and he follows Mordred after a confident:

“We’ll be in Gaius’ chambers should you require anything, My Lord.”

Merlin was oblivious to the conversation, though Arthur reckons he was deliberately ignoring it as opposed to being actually unaware, especially with the way the servant’s shoulders relax when the door shuts behind the second knight.

Arthur sighs as Merlin continues to putter around the room, refusing to look him in the eye; he leans against the edge of the desk and crosses his arms:

“Merlin,-”

His voice is soft, but the servant still doesn’t look at him, giving a non-committal hum as he clears out the hearth with shaking hands:

“-come here, please.”

Merlin freezes for just a moment, and if the problem wasn’t so glaringly the context of the situation, Arthur may have been able to fool himself into believing that Merlin was just shocked he said please. The younger man stands slowly, turning to walk towards Arthur with his gaze stuck to the floor. He stops with about five feet of space between them and Arthur sighs again, closing the gap until only a few inches separates them. The King ignores the tears gathering in both of their eyes as he lifts a hesitating hand, dropping it softly on Merlin’s shoulder only when the servant doesn’t flinch away:

“Merlin, I... you mean a great deal to me, and I know I don’t say that often enough, or at all, really. You... look after me, keep me alive and unhurt, evidently more than I had originally thought. You make me a good King, and a better man.-”

Merlin looks up at him sharply and Arthur can tell that he’s about to argue, so he squeezes his shoulder and quickly hurries on:

“-You’ve been hurt, you’ve suffered in your service to me, and that’s unacceptable but it’s also my fault; I should’ve made it clear that I would protect you from anything. These scars prove your strength, but I understand not wanting to acknowledge them, so I promise I will never ask again. You tell me when you’re ready, and if that’s never, then that’s completely fine.-”

Merlin seems surprised by the promise, and the tears slowly dripping from his wide eyes just make Arthur regret yesterday even more. After a second or two of shock, Merlin visibly relaxes, relieved with the knowledge that he doesn’t have to expect the conversation that he really doesn’t want to have. Arthur gives him a weak smile before continuing:

“-I’m sorry, but I’m also grateful. Thank you, Merlin. But...-”

Merlin re-tenses at the “but” and Arthur squeezes his shoulder again, giving him what he hopes is a reassuring smile:

“-please don’t keep doing this alone. I... I don’t expect you to ask me for help, though I would drop anything in a heartbeat to keep you safe. Even... even if it’s Gwaine, just... I don’t want you disappearing off to save the Kingdom only to never come back again because no one knows where you are.”

Merlin smiles weakly at the disdain in Arthur’s voice when he mentions Gwaine, but quickly frowns again and looks at the floor. He gaze stays lowered when he asks his one word question, his voice quiet and ragged:

“Anything?”

Arthur frowns for a second, confused about what Merlin was asking, but quickly realises, lifting the other man’s chin with his hand, his voice a whisper:

“Merlin, I would give up the Kingdom to rid you of the burden you’ve place upon yourself. I just want you safe and happy and by my side.”

Merlin once again looks like he wants to argue, but a quiet sob falls from his mouth instead and Arthur, damning the consequences and his stupid reputation, pulls the younger man into a tight hug, cradling his head into his shoulder and running a soft hand up and down his back. A few tears of his own slip free but he finds he doesn’t care that much as Merlin shakes in his arms; he presses a barely-there kiss to Merlin’s temple and begins swaying slightly on the spot, wanting more than anything to take away his servant’s pain.

Merlin’s cries slow to a stop after what feels like hours, but Arthur doesn’t let go quite yet, eyeing the unmade bed over Merlin’s shoulder with eagerness, knowing that neither he nor Merlin had slept well last night. He feels Merlin stifle yawn against his shoulder and that just strengthens his resolve; he squeezes the younger man to get his attention and then speaks quietly:

“Reckon the council can survive without me later?”

Merlin clears his throat and responds, but still doesn’t let go:

“Doubtful, but Leon and Morgana could probably whip them into shape. Why?”

Arthur nods and pulls back, frowning at the slight panic in Merlin’s eyes when he steps away but doesn’t mention it, letting his hand slide down from the servant’s shoulder to grip his hand. Merlin visibly relaxes, but still looks confused as Arthur tugs him towards the bed gently; he allows himself to be pushed to sit on the edge and looks up at Arthur questioningly. The blond stops himself from grinning widely at the trust in his expression, instead turning away to shut the curtains and lock the door as he says:

“Shoes and belt off, I fancy a nap, how about you?”

He was expecting an argument, so he's surprised when he turns back to the bed to see Merlin softly smiling as he sets his shoes and belt on the bedside table neatly. They both climb under the covers wordlessly, and Merlin doesn’t hesitate to curl into Arthur’s side when he holds his arms out to him.

The King holds his servant close, tucking his head against his chest and burying his chin in his soft hair, his arms wound around Merlin tightly. Merlin closes his eyes without issue, finding himself unafraid of the darkness or the nightmares or the firm touch against his back for the first time since his collection of scars began.

The warrior sleeps, plagued by nothing but pleasant dreams and the warmth of a protection he knows he can trust.

THE END!!

That took me FOREVER to write, writer’s block really does suck, but I’m glad I finally got it finished. I feel like it’s a little underwhelming, but I hope y‘all like it :)

@1stbonesfan asked to be tagged! <3

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bestiesenpai · 3 years

Text

youtuber Sukuna

I beg you to read the shitposts I made about this, they are delicious. You don’t have to of course but...if you loved me you would :) s/n = screen name, and I hope you chuckle at Sukunas screen name

Content warning: uhmhm lowkey incel shit(mean internet comments and whatnot)

part two --- part 3

Name: Sukuna. Age: 25. Height: 6 foot 5 inches. Occupation: toxic Youtuber, fitness trainer and hot guy.

Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for being kind. He wasn’t nice to others, rarely having anything good to say about anyone, and he’d made a successful Youtube career out of it. First starting as a fitness trainer at his gym, through encouragement from his clients and the notion of a quick cash grab, he started Youtube.

He didn’t care about it and that reflected in the quality of his videos and editing. He didn’t have consistent uploads, just filming and posting videos whenever he wanted, analytics be fucked. But somehow, that worked out for him, and he quickly found himself with over two million subscribers just frothing at the mouth for his next video.

And those subscribers were some of the worst people. Sukuna didn’t care about fostering a safe space online for others, not in the slightest. His comment sections were atrocious, both on his Youtube and his Instagram. It was full of toxic men one-upping each other constantly and dragging on each other for not being able to work out as much as Sukuna did.

Sukuna was a large part of why his fanbase were so toxic. He himself often made bad comments about others, whether fellow creators or people that happened to appear in the backgrounds of his videos, and on more than one occasion he’d been ‘cancelled’. None of that mattered though, all he cared about was shitting on other people and making money.

Sometimes he played video games and posted it, but not too often. Sukuna often stated he wasn’t so much of a fucking lonely loser that he’d play video games all the time, and so the gaming videos he did post were few and far between. He played angry shooter games and GTA, mindless button clicking he could get lost in for a few hours for a video.

Laying in bed one night after uploading his most recent video, one where he rages at 12 year olds on GTA online, Sukuna was just scrolling through his phone mindlessly. After he uploads video game content, like clockwork, he gets recommendations for gaming channels. He only watches a few of them, mostly leaving mean comments saying what losers they are, but one catches his eye.

He’s never been recommended this kind of video before. The thumbnail is light and bright with some pink aesthetic lights in the back. But the most enticing thing is the person in the middle, cute pink cat ear headphones on and a bright smile.

“Let’s see…” Sukuna mumbles to himself, mindlessly clicking the video. He hasn’t even read the title, he only clicked it because they were cute, and here he is nearly blinded by the bright setup they have.

“Hi everyone, it’s (Y/N) here and I’m really excited today! We’re going to be playing this new game I found!” Sukuna is immediately enraptured by the sound of your voice, watching how your face changes as you talk. His eyes drift off to the decor behind you, cute plushies and healthy plants, and some twinkling fairy lights. There’s books as well, and your chair is one of those ergonomic gamer chairs he has as well but in pink.

Sukuna watches the video dumbly, totally in the dark about whatever you’re doing, but loving it all the same. All he knows is that he likes the sound of your voice, and when you laugh and smile at a funny part in the game, it makes a light flush come to his cheeks.

It only takes one video for Sukuna to spiral into more of your content. He watches a video on your gaming setup, and he’s surprised that so much technology can come in pink. He watches a video on how you edit, a few of you cooking in your kitchen, and even a few vlog videos.

He quickly subscribes to your channel, and when you plug your social media, he immediately goes there. Pulling up your Instagram, he stares at your profile picture and almost audibly coos at you for being cute.

Your profile is just as cute as your videos are and Sukuna barely remembers to follow you before he’s going through your whole feed, liking every picture he sees. Sometimes he leaves comments, only one word though, ‘cute’. He’s never liked something so outright cute before, it wasn’t who he was and it definitely didn’t fit with his brand.

Falling asleep after following you on every platform, Sukuna wakes up thinking about you as well. And he also wakes up to hundreds of comments from all his accounts, bombarding him with questions and screenshots from last night.

‘SUKUNA WHY WOULD YOU LIKE THIS SHIT?!’

‘OMG Sukuna liked (Y/N)s posts!!’

‘Sukuna is so gross and toxic, you better stay away from (Y/N)!’

‘SUKUNA YOU GAY NOW’

‘EW why the fuck do you like this bitch?’

There were hundreds of comments that he waded through. Most were from his fans, expressing disgust at how many photos of yours he’d liked and wondering why he, Sukuna, most heterosexual alpha male on the planet, would like a pretty in pink Youtuber who had bubbly intros and whined when their animal crossing villagers wanted to move away.

Other comments were from your fans, some in awe that he would like you considering how much he said he hated overly cute things. Other fans expressed concern, worried what this might mean for their favorite Youtuber. Did Sukuna want to cause problems, potentially hurting you? He did have a reputation of bullying others, so this wasn’t far fetched.

Checking your Instagram, you didn’t make any comment about it. There wasn’t any update or anything, but on his end he was being tagged in endless Twitter threads with screenshots of him liking your posts and commenting under them.

“For fucks sake.” He grunted, clenching his phone in his hands. The amount of notifications he was getting were starting to upset him and he nearly threw his phone to get them to stop.

Ignoring his phone for the rest of the day, Sukuna went to the gym like he always did and trained with his clients. Some of them brought it up to him, asking him if he had a mind break last night and forgot what he was doing. Sending them harsh glares, Sukuna refused to talk about it.

“Oh my fucking god.” Sukuna nearly wailed when he got home, finally checking his phone. His name and yours had begun trending, and the hashtag #protect(Y/N) was also. Muttering angrily under his breath, Sukuna turned on Instagram live.

“Okay what the fuck!” He shouted, seeing the live become instantly flooded with people all screaming about you and him. “You’re all fucking annoying, you know that?” Glaring harshly at the camera, he read some of the comments that went by.

‘WHY’D YOU LIKE (Y/N)S POSTS FROM 2017’

‘Are you two secretly dating??’

‘COLLAB!’

“Who gives a shit why I liked their stuff, you’re a fucking weirdo for keeping track of me. And we aren’t secretly dating, dipshits.” Rolling his eyes, Sukuna scoffed as more comments came in begging for a collaboration. “And think about it you morons, why would we collab? Our shit is too fucking different, what would we even film about?”

Sukuna stayed on Instagram live for nearly an hour answering questions asking about you. Every time he had to answer that you weren’t secretly dating, he got a little more annoyed. Not at the comments themselves but at the fact that it was true; you didn’t even know he existed.

Ending the live in a huff, Sukuna didn’t feel any better than before, and it was made even worse by the fact that everything he said was being relayed to Twitter, and you were tagged in every tweet.

“These idiots!” Staring at his phone, Sukuna couldn’t believe what he was seeing. On your Instagram stories, you’d posted a q&a for your followers, and nearly all of the comments were about Sukuna.

“Hi everyone! No, me and Sukuna aren’t dating!” You said, laughing a little to ease how uncomfortable you were. “To be honest, I’ve never even heard of him before! As you know, my content is very...different from his, so our circles don’t exactly intersect. But I’m always happy to have new followers and potential friends!”

“Fuck me.” Sukuna groaned, cringing at how uncomfortable you looked having to address the sudden onslaught of questions. For once he wished he’d actually given a shit about his online presence, so that maybe one day your circles could intersect. He knew he scared you, he scared a lot of people, and this was just proof.

“Uh, Sukuna if you see this, hi it’s nice to meet you!” You said in the next slide, puffing out your cheeks and waving cutely at the camera. It made Sukuna blush, and he hated it. “Thank you for following me and liking my content! I was very surprised that you found me!”

“Of course I did, idiot, you’re fucking cute.” He muttered under his breath.

“I know a lot of people are asking for us to do a video together and I know our content is really different, so don’t feel pressured to respond or anything, but the offer is open! If you’d like, we can collab on something.”

“On what?” He asked like you were there.

“I cook sometimes, and I know you cook too! Maybe we can make a cooking video? You can teach me how to make healthy food or something!” Sukuna could tell a fake laugh when he heard one, and you definitely had one right now. “Anyways, thank you! Bye Sukuna!” But hearing you say his name cutely like that made him not care.

He nearly responded right away, accepting the collab offer now that you’d spoken about it, but he didn’t want to seem desperate. He watched through the rest of your Instagram stories, going back and replaying the parts where you talked about him over and over and his heart clenched every time when you said his name.

In the dead of night, Sukuna DM’s you after watching your latest video and leaving the simple comment ‘check your DM’s’.

“Fuck, what should I say?” He’s suddenly stumped as he looks at the keyboard. Typing and retyping a message, in the end all he can say is hi. He doesn’t expect a reply, ever, but when he gets a vibration on his phone two seconds later he jumps to read it.

(S/N): hi Sukuna! :)

(cursedgod): hey

Real fucking smart, repeating what he just said.

(S/N): is there something you wanted to talk to me about?

(S/N): I hope you haven’t been annoyed at all the notifications you’ve been getting!

(cursedgod): No it’s okay

(cursedgod): we can collab if you want

Good Sukuna, good. Play it cool, don’t let them know that your fingers are actually trembling because you’re nervous.

(S/N): do you want to?? I don’t want to pressure you! I know we’re pretty different haha

(cursedgod): yeah, let's do it. Cooking?

(S/N): sure!

Looking around his home, he was suddenly assaulted with the fact that he didn’t have any furniture. He barely had a proper bedroom, just a mattress on a bare frame and a dresser. His lounge room was the same with his computer setup in one corner and then nothing else. There was only a couch, a mounted TV and a fold out table and chairs for his dining room.

(cursedgod): I know a studio kitchen we can use, I’ll send you the address

Thank god he’d done promo work for a brand in a studio one day, otherwise he’d be fucked.

(S/N): awesome! I’m free next Saturday!

And just like that, it was a date. Well, a meeting. Sukuna knew it wasn’t a date, but his heart still thumped like it was one. Confirming the time, he ended the conversation with a curt goodbye and obsessed about it throughout the night.

When the day to meet you came, Sukuna nearly ran late trying to pick out his clothes. He’d never cared about looking good or presenting himself well in front of others, whatever version of him he turned up in was what they got. But for you, he wanted to try a little harder.

Waiting outside the studio space, Sukuna rubbed his hands together nervously. You’d messaged a day or two ago offering to put the video on your channel since it probably wouldn’t fit his aesthetic, so he didn’t have to bring his shitty camera equipment.

“S-sukuna?” Snapping his head up, Sukunas mouth fell open looking at your curious face a few feet away, an Uber driving off behind you. You were even cuter in person, just his fucking luck. How was he expected to act like a normal person when his recent obsession was here looking better than he could have imagined.

“Hi.” What comes out is a grunt, not the smooth word he’d hoped. He can see you eyeing him up, taking in all the thick and corded muscles of his body. It made his chest puff out a little, he worked hard for this physique and to have you so openly looking at him made him happy.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Sticking your hand out, you smiled politely at him.

“Same.” Shaking your hand with a firm grip, Sukuna could feel the difference in your palms. Yours was soft and nicely moisturized and he had callouses everywhere and a few cuts and scrapes.

Opening the door for you, Sukuna led you to the studio space he’d rented out. It was a clean and modern kitchen, not unlike his own, but it had appliances and looked actually lived in. Helping you set up a few camera angles, Sukuna felt a pang of nerves hit him in the stomach.

“Sukuna, can we take a picture together?” You asked before starting, and Sukunas brow furrowed deeply. Why would you want to take a picture with him? His expression must have scared you, because you quickly backtracked. “F-for promo for this video, on Instagram and stuff!”

“Sure.” God, did he feel bad or what. He shouldn’t have made that face at you, now you wouldn’t look him in the eye. Crouching down to get the right angle for you, Sukuna watched you pick a cute animal filter.

“Just do what I do.” Throwing up a peace sign, you cutely tilted your head from side to side and smiled. Sukuna tried to do the same but he looked awkward, and most of all he was blushing pretty bad.

You snapped a multitude of pictures, some at different angles and some with different filters, and in all of them Sukuna was blushing at least a little. He managed to smile more as it went on, even laughing at one of the filters.

“Thanks! I’m going to post these really quick and then we can get started!” Giving him a brief smile, you turned back to your phone and set about editing some of the pictures. Looking over your shoulder, Sukuna could see that he looked like a blushing high schooler meeting their idol for the first time and not a grown man.

Once the photos were posted and you tagged him in everything, it was time to start. Setting up your marks on the floor, you took a generous drink of water and cleared your throat.

“Are you ready for the intro? I’ll start it and introduce you, okay?” You’d actually prepared a script for yourself, and showed Sukuna as well.

“Okay.” Stepping in front of the camera, Sukuna bristled at feeling you so close to him. Your arm brushed his casually as you were fixing your shirt, and Sukuna was glad he’d worn his most expensive cologne for this.

“Hi everyone, welcome to today's video! As you know, I’m (Y/N), and today we have a special guest today!” Throwing your arms in the air, you motioned to Sukuna.

“Hi.” He nodded, barely cracking a smile. He could feel you looking at him like you wanted to say something, but he didn’t look.

“So, many people have been asking for us to do a collaboration and it’s finally here!” Clapping your hands lightly, you rocked on your heels and nudged his shoulder with yours. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?”

“Uh-” The playful nudge you’d given him was enough to make Sukuna short circuit. “I-I-” He suddenly couldn’t remember how to speak. “Rice?”

“Let’s try that again.” You laughed. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” This time, you didn’t nudge him with your shoulder.

“We’re gonna…” the words were on the tip of his tongue, they wanted to come out and be spoken but he couldn’t do it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Nodding reassuringly, you took a deep breath in and out, and Sukuna shakily copied. “One more try?” When he looked at you, Sukuna expected to see a hint of annoyance in your face, but there was none. You were just smiling softly at him, waiting for his answer.

“Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll get it next time.” Stepping away from the camera, Sukuna took a drink of water and cleared his throat. Cracking the bones in his neck, he took a deep breath and came back. “Let’s do it.” No more fucking embarrassments.

“Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” You asked for the third time, slightly swaying your body side to side this time.

“We’re gonna make katsudon today.” Finally, the words he wanted to say came out.

“That’s right! As you can see, Sukuna is really fit!” You immediately hopped in, giving his arm a brief squeeze. “And he knows how to make a ton of healthy meals!”

“Mhmm.”

“So I asked if he could help teach me, and all of you at home, how to make it!” Smiling at the camera, you waited a few seconds before relaxing and turning it off. “Did you like that? We can refilm it if you want.”

“No, it’s okay.” Running a hand through his hair, he pointed to the bag of rice he’d brought. “Let’s get started on this shit.”

Taking fifteen minutes to film the two of you filling up the rice cooker, when it was over, you set about getting aesthetic shots of the other ingredients. Sukuna tried to seem casual off to the side on his phone, but he was really watching you.

Getting started on chopping the ingredients, Sukuna somehow managed to say the things he was supposed to without stuttering too badly. He was amazed that you could make the things he was doing sound so interesting, your narration as you held the camera and tried to do things yourself was impressive to the man that barely knew anything about cameras.

“Sukuna, I need help cutting the meat.” You whined, tapping the meat on the cutting board with a knife. “I don’t remember how you showed me.”

“Here.” Without thinking, Sukuan grabbed your hand with the knife in it and moved it for you. “You just have to move your wrist more, it’s not that hard.” Doing it a few times, when Sukuna felt your chest expand with air against his, that’s when he realized how close the two of you were. “S-sorry.” Immediately jumping back, he stared at the floor.

“Thanks!” Giving him a smile, you kept at it.

“I’ll fry the meat.” Stepping in as soon as you were done, Sukuna already had the hot oil ready. He was eager to cook and do something with his hands instead of - what he felt like - was awkwardly watching you off to the side.

“Okay!” Grabbing the camera, you focused on the pan. “You’re really good at this, Sukuna!”

“T-thanks.” Staring directly at the pan, Sukuna didn’t look away. Even with the hot oil popping up from the pan a few times and burning his fingers, he didn’t flinch at all.

“Ow!” But you did. Your hand had gotten too close, and when Sukuna flipped the meat, some of the oil had gotten on your hand.

“Shit.” Abandoning the pan, Sukuna was ready to drag you over to the sink for some cool water.

“I-it’s okay, it was only a little.” Shaking your stinging hand, you point to the food. “But I think the meat might burn.”

“Shit!”

Narrowly avoiding disaster with the meat, when it came time to cook the eggs, you made a joke about how you liked your eggs in the morning and Sukuna burnt them almost immediately. While not an overtly sexual comment, the implications of the words still affected him.

Somehow, he managed to make the dish come together and while his plated dish didn’t come out the best, yours looked at least halfway decent with overcooked meat and burnt eggs. The only things not messed up were the rice and vegetables, and even then Sukuna was surprised.

“We did it everyone, we made katsudon!” Holding up the bowls, you smiled big and nudged Sukunas shoulder again. “You saw we had a few mishaps along the way, but that’s okay, that’s what made it fun.”

“Yeah, it was fun.” Sukuna chuckled. Despite him being more nervous than he’d ever thought possible, he had fun cooking alongside you.

“Sukuna, will you try mine? I made it super pretty and everything.” Holding your dish up to him, Sukuna wasn’t expecting you to do that. Now he felt bad that his looked so ugly and like a teenaged boy made it; he almost said no.

Eating yours though, somehow it tasted better than he was expecting. It must have been how you prepared it, and the fact that you cared so much about the presentation. Eating it in silence, he let you eat in peace as well for a few minutes and compliment the food to the camera.

“Alright, that’s the end of the video!” Putting your bowl down, you turned to Sukuna. “I had so much fun today, thanks for filming this with me.” Now was his chance to make everything better. Putting his bowl down and bolstering himself with confidence, Sukuna threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you close to him.

“Thank you (Y/N), I really did enjoy today. I hope we can film again soon!” He squeezed your shoulder and smiled really big at not only you but the camera as well. He knew he was blushing, he knew that even the tip of his nose was a nice rosy shade, but he didn’t care. If people teased him for it, then so be it. But he wanted you to know how he truly felt.

“R-really? You want to?” You asked, looking up at Sukuna from your place smooshed against his body.

“Really.”

“Aww, well you heard it here first everyone! Sukuna wants to shoot another video with me!” Clapping your hands a few times, you waved at the camera. “Okay, bye everyone!”

“Bye.” Sukuna waved too, waiting a few seconds before letting you go and turning off the camera.

“Sukuna, did you really mean it? You want to film another video with me?” You were in utter disbelief. All this time, he’d just seemed very standoffish, if not a little awkward around you. You were happy to film this video with him, he had way more followers than you and it would help boost both your channels, and to hear him say that just made it even better.

“Yeah, I was serious.” Sukuna spoke around stuffing his mouth with the food he still had left. He was more hungry than he thought, the nerves doing a good job of twisting his stomach during the video. Now that it’s over, he can finally relax.

“That makes me really happy.” Eating the rest of your food as well, you leant against the counter. “This is gonna sound kind of mean, but I was really scared to film with you today. I thought you were going to be really mean.”

“Shit, you did?” He grimaced, letting out a sigh. “Sorry I had you worried.” He could already imagine the comments you would get from his fans.

“It’s okay! You’re actually way nicer in person, I was surprised!”

“That’s good.”

“And you’re really buff, you have muscles in places I didn’t even know were possible!” You laughed bashfully at that comment, and avoided looking at him when he stared at you in shock. “I couldn’t help but notice…”

Were you checking him out? Had you been checking him out this whole time and he didn’t even realize? He had seen you eyeing him up when you first met, but were you looking at him like that at other times as well? Now he’d really have to watch your video to see if it was true.

“Thanks, it’s my job.” Could he have said that any lamer? “My job outside of all this, I mean. I’m a trainer at this fancy gym downtown.”

“Oh, I’ve seen some of your videos at your gym! I know which one you’re talking about.”

“You do? You’ve seen my videos?” If he wasn’t surprised before, he was now.

“Yeah, you know I had to do a little research beforehand.” You nodded, beginning to clean up the dishes around you. “And I know you’ve already watched almost all of my videos, so it only seemed fair.”

Did you have to bring that up? Now Sukuna was embarrassed again.

“Y-yeah, I did.” Clearing his throat, Sukuna helped gather the dishes. He took up washing them, another task he could do to get his mind off you. As you took down the camera equipment, he nearly broke several dishes and utensils from scrubbing too hard.

“I’ll call you an Uber.” He said when all was said and done and you were back at the front of the building.

“You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

“No, I want to.” Quickly calling you a ride, Sukuna fiddled with his phone a little more. “Uh, could I- could I-” His voice kept leaving him, and he had to cough a few times. “Can I get your number? I really liked your camera shit and I want to improve mine.” Okay, it wasn’t a total lie. He did like your setup and wanted to make his just as good, but he really wanted your number to potentially talk to you more about things outside of Youtube.

“Sure! Go ahead and type it in.” You were quick to give him your phone, a cute pink phone case on the back of it. Typing it in, he can’t help but notice the little devil emoji you add by his name. He wants to ask, but your ride is already pulling up.

“Bye!” Setting all your camera gear inside the car, you turn and wave goodbye.

“See ya.” Just as you’re about to close the car door, Sukuna gets a burst of confidence. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay!” And off you go. Sukuna watches the car drive off until he can’t see it anymore. He takes his time getting to his own place, eagerly awaiting your message with every step. But even when you do message him, all he can do is send a thumbs up back and nothing else.

It’s about two and a half days after that that you text him again, letting him know you’re done editing and that you’re going to post the video soon. It wasn’t a very long video to begin with, so the editing was simple enough. Sukuna replied with what appeared to be a lackluster ‘can’t wait’, but on the inside he was shaking. He’d already screenshot all the pictures the two of you took together and added them to a folder.

“Here we go.” As soon as the video went live, Sukuna watched it. He was mortified as soon as it started at the blush so evident on his cheeks, and how it stayed throughout the whole thing. He groaned at the part where he helped you cut up the meat, he almost wishes you’d cut it out. Every little detail that made him embarrassed was there, every little nuance of his actions you’d managed to capture and make it cute.

(Y/N): How do you like it??

You texted him after twenty minutes, eager to hear his thoughts.

(Sukuna): it’s good, good editing and stuff

(Y/N): yay! I’m going to read comments in a few hours, you should too! I bet people will be really shocked!

(Sukuna): yeah no doubt

Oh, he was definitely going to read the comments. Whereas you were going to wait for a fair few to come in before commenting, Sukuna frequently refreshed the page and read the new ones as they came in. You were right, a lot of people were surprised, but he also saw a lot of his fans as well.

‘Ew Sukuna really cooked for that bitch? They can’t do it themselves?’

‘Yeah, why do they have to rely on him? Useless as fuck lol’

‘Sukuna only did this to get laid, (Y/N) looks like an easy fuck’

All of those comments, and many more, made his blood boil. Usually, he wouldn’t care at all about the comments, letting them fester in his comment section and spiral out of control. But for you, it was different.

‘Fuck off and die you pieces of shit. Leave (Y/N) alone or say it to my fucking face’

Sukuna sent that message, along with a variety of other threats, to all the people that insulted you. He didn’t care that this wasn’t his channel and that you would deal with it in whatever way you wanted to. He needed to defend you against the unwanted audience he’d brought you.

Luckily, after seeing Sukunas messages, all of his fans backed off. They knew how serious he was about his threats and there were many rumors that he actually did go and beat people up who said things he didn’t like. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his torment.

With Sukunas name attached to the video and his heavy presence in the comment section, the video easily went viral. It was easily the most viewed video on your channel, getting on the trending pages of several different platforms.

(Sukuna): hey

It’s nearly a week after the first video that Sukuna messages you, and the hype is still going strong, and your follower count grows greatly from it.

(Y/N): hi! What’s up?

(Sukuna): do you want to film a video for my channel now? We can play a game, I have a few

(Y/N): sure that sounds fun!

Oh how wrong you were. The game Sukuna chose was a scary game, a shooter game with scary zombies and a lot of possible jumpscares. He doesn’t tell you either, so on the night of filming - he insisted on it being nighttime to get the full scary effect - you were caught off guard.

“I don’t know about this.” You whined once you saw the title. The two of you were video calling alongside playing the game together, and Sukuna’s eyes flicked to your figure on the screen.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll carry you, don’t worry.” He had started filming as soon as he’d set up the game, and you were filming yourself as well for him.

“You promise it won’t be too scary?”

“If it’s too scary just close your eyes and I’ll protect you.” Smiling softly at you, he started up the game. The beginning was fine, just a quick introduction to the game, but as soon as things started to get moving, you were scared.

“Sukuna a zombie is eating me!” You screamed, frantically pushing buttons in an attempt to get it off.

“It’s okay!” He quickly got rid of it, and made sure to stay close to your character as the story progressed.

“(Y/N) stay by me, there’s about to be a whole lot of them.”

“Close your eyes there’s about to be a jump scare here.”

“Don’t worry about getting that item, I’ll grab it for you!”

Sukuna nearly forgot he was being filmed, saying sweet things to you to help encourage you and make sure you weren’t overwhelmed. There were many parts where you screamed in fright and Sukuna was there to coo at you and tell you it was okay. He made sure that your character never died, making sure to keep you close until the end of the game.

“Sukuna, that was so hard!” Squishing your cheeks in your hands, you looked at him through your phone.

“It was fun though, wasn’t it? I had fun with you.” Completely abandoning the game, he stared down at his phone with a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, when there weren’t so many zombies.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and it made him laugh. Leaning his head into his hand, Sukuna grinned when you yawned.

“Aw, are you tired? Better go to sleep soon.” His voice dropped to a lower volume, like you were right next to him.

“I will.” You yawned again and it made Sukuna yawn as well.

“Get off the phone and go to bed, you’re making me tired too.”

“Fine.” Whining out the word, you waved sleepily. “Goodnight Sukuna, I’ll send you the video files in the morning, okay?”

“Night.” Waving back, Sukuna waited until you hung up to turn his stuff off as well.

In the morning, Sukuna was ready to edit. What usually took him a week to edit out of laziness, he took only a day to edit this video with you together. Rewatching the footage, he nearly gagged at seeing how soft his face got when he looked at you, and most of those parts were left in because he couldn’t stand to watch them and fix them.

(Sukuna): videos up

The next day, he messaged you. Once again Sukuna patrolled the comments, swiftly deleting any that said even a hint of a bad thing about you. There was less this time, what with Sukuna adding a warning at the beginning of the video threatening anyone that talked down at you.

This video, like the first, went viral. But for a much different reason. Since Sukuna was emotionally unable to deal with how sappy he was and edit those parts out, everyone got to see how soft he was for you. If the comments weren’t mean, they were screaming about how you and Sukuna must be dating now, because why else would he look at you and talk to you like that?

And much to Sukuna’s dismay, there were also fancam edits of you two together. Any clippable moment of him being sweet on you in the videos you’d made together along with the photos you’d posted on Instagram were edited together and posted on Twitter. You both were tagged in every single one, making sure Sukuna saw all the videos of you and him together. He saved all of them too, delighting in the way you looked with him with all those pretty filters.

By the end of the day, people were trying to put a ship name together for the two of you and he’s seen you repost a few fancams with cute messages of thanks as well. Seeing you receptive to the fans screaming about the two of you made him happy, even if he was still too nervous to text you about anything outside of Youtube.

As more comments came in, people on Twitter were begging him to do a vlog with you. You had quite a few on your channel, going to cafes or filming what your day or week was like. Sukuna had watched them all and was jealous of every single person that appeared alongside you.

(Y/N): hey I’m doing a live on Instagram if you want to join me! I know people really like us together lol it’ll be great for views

(Sukuna): sure

Did you want him to join now? He’d just gotten out of the shower and thrown on a pair of sweats, he wasn’t exactly decent. But he didn’t want to waste time getting ready only for you to end the live.

“Hi Sukuna!” You smiled and waved when he appeared on the screen.

“Hey.” He waved back, not caring about the angle he was holding the camera in. He saw hearts begin to fill up the screen and comments started to fly by, almost all in caps about the fact he was shirtless talking to you.

“Guys, don’t be weird! Who cares that Sukuna is shirtless?” You tried to stop them, but it was clear you were flustered as well. You weren’t looking at him, peeking at him through the screen a few times.

“God you’re all thirsty as fuck.” Sukuna finally looked at himself on the screen. He was shirtless and in bed, hair slightly damp and tousled on his pillow. Reading a few comments, he shot up. “Of course I’m wearing pants, you nasty fuck!” Storming out of bed, he stood in front of the only mirror in his house that wasn’t in the bathroom and turned the camera around. “See, look!”

“Oh.” Gasping softly, you were glad Sukuna didn’t notice you screenshot the live. Clad in only gray sweatpants, Sukuna’s freshly cleaned skin gleamed in the light of his bedroom and every single muscle and edge of his body was on display.

“There, told you I wasn’t fucking naked.” Rolling his eyes, he flopped back down on the bed. None of the comments had gotten any better, all of them talking about how hot he was and how you were so lucky to know him in real life.

“L-let's talk about something else.” You stammered, not showing your face on camera for a few minutes. Sukuna laughed at the comments teasing you for being embarrassed, agreeing with some of them under his breath.

“So, what the fuck are you all doing here?” Sukuna posed the question at the chat, but at you as well.

“Well before you came everyone was talking about you...and you know how everyone has been begging for us to vlog?” You started off slowly, peeking an eye at his face.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to call you to ask how you felt about that?” How he felt? Why did you want to know?

“You couldn’t have texted me that?” That wasn’t necessarily what he wanted to say, but it made you chuckle, so it was okay.

“No! I wanted to ask so everyone could know!”

“I don’t mind it.” If you wanted to vlog with him, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“So…” Worrying your lip, you looked off camera for a few seconds before looking directly at Sukuna. “Would you like to be in a vlog with me, at a cafe? It’s outside the city, kind of far, but we can rent a car or-”

“Yes.” Sukuna interrupted, nodding his head quickly. “I’ll come. We don’t have to rent a car, I’ll drive.”

“Really?” The comments were just as shocked as you were. Sukuna never filmed anywhere but his home and the gym, this would be a monumental occasion.

“Did you want me to say no?”

“No!” You screamed immediately, nearly dropping your phone. “I just- I wasn’t expecting you to say yes!”

“Well I did.” Sukuna bit his lip, running a hand through his hair and flexing his arm. “So I guess it’s a date, huh?” His normal asshole confidence was back now that you were appearing through a screen and not right next to him. A surprised sound came from the back of your throat, and you nearly dropped the phone again.

“Y-yeah! A date!” It felt good to have you flustered for once and not Sukuna. Laughing heartily at you, Sukuna smirked at the comments.

“Was that all you wanted to ask me or was there something more?”

“No, that was it!”

“Alright.” Licking his lip and letting his tongue hang out of his mouth a little, Sukuna watched you bite your lip as well. “Well I’m gonna go, I got stuff to do, but I’ll text you later (Y/N).” Dropping his voice as he said goodbye, Sukuna left the livestream.

“Holy fuck.” As soon as his phone was off, Sukuna let out a breath he’d been holding in. His heart was pounding hard despite how confident he was in his actions. Flirting was nothing new to him, but with you it felt different and like he’d never done it before in his life.

He watched the rest of your livestream while he finished getting ready for bed, laughing at the comments still teasing you about getting flustered with him. The notifications for Twitter were going off as well, and he knew for sure that there were new fancams for him to check out later.

(Y/N): Sukuna!! You’re so embarrassing!

Texting him after your stream, your cheeks were still burning at the memory.

(Sukuna): hey, you said it would be good for views and it was

(Y/N): I know…

(Y/N): did you really mean it, about coming with me?

(Sukuna): of course. If I didn’t want to I would have said no

(Y/N): that’s good lol!

There was a lull in conversation, and Sukuna nearly fell asleep waiting for you to either text him again or for him to figure out what to say next.

(Y/N): so, a date huh? Are you going to bring me flowers?

Now he was awake. He didn’t expect you to bring that up again, and his eyes flew open. Sukuna’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, mind going blank on what to say.

(Y/N): lol just kidding! I know you only said that for the stream! I’ll text you later about the details, I’m about to knock out

(Y/N): goodnight :)

Well shit. Now he definitely wanted it to be a date.

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

974 notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Begone, Bitch

Prompts: Hi ! I just wanted to say that i love your stories and the way you write the characters ! If you want, could you write about Virgil being comforted by the other sides, or him getting hurt while protecting the others ? - anon

I am beyond grateful for every fic you write, you are so good at pushing all the right emotional buttons to just make my entire day. I don't want to be greedy since you already make so much good content, but in 'Lie to Me' there was that little one off scene in the kitchen where Virgil pushes Janus behind him to 'protect ' him from Roman and I *cannot* stop thinking about it. I would die for a whole fic of Virgil protecting Janus(and the others, but mostly Janus, I like when people are sweet to the snake boy) from danger by physically shielding him with his body. Overprotective Virgil is my favorite. So this is a prompt/request but only if you really really want to <3 And thank you for writing such wonderful fic. - awitchbravestheverge

Ah yes more opportunities to write in Virgil's narration style.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none, not really. Some creepy shadow shit from the Subconcious and Virgil gets a little hurt but nothing graphic

Pairings: platonic found family babey

Word Count: 4504

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

For the most part, Virgil’s able to work undetected. Or, well, no, the others will see him doing shit but they don’t know that’s what he’s doing. He just has to stand between them and whatever gross slimy black thing has crawled its way up from the depths of the Subconscious and it’ll get absorbed. Part of Thomas’s background anxiety until he can banish back to the hellhole from whence it came.

That doesn’t always mean it’s…painless.

Some of them are fine. Some of them are like little misty bits that just putter around where they’re not fucking supposed to be and Virgil can just pluck them out of the air and stuff them into the pockets of his hoodie and wait. These ones really like to bother Patton, for some reason.

Patton’s baking today, cinnamon sugar muffins. He’s humming to himself as he bustles about the kitchen with that weird boundless energy of his that makes everyone want to think about nothing but sunshine. Ruins the hell out of Virgil’s gloomy emo image but hey, fresh muffins. Sacrifices must be made somewhere.

“Did you want to help, Virgil, or are you fine with just sitting there?”

Virgil blinks, having zoned out after the third time watching one of the containers almost fall over. “Nah, I’m good.”

Patton shrugs. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t, Pat, I’m good. You’re doing great.”

“Aw, thanks!”

Virgil opens his mouth to say something else when he sees a little grey thing twisting in the air next to Patton’s head. He suppresses a sigh and reaches out, careful to make sure Patton’s back is turned as he snags the pesky little thing and whips it away. He stuffs his hand in his pocket as soon as Patton turns around.

“What was that?”

“What was what,” Virgil asks, blinking innocently as he squeezes the icy thing in his pocket, “what’re you talking about?”

Ah, it’s the hands-on-the-hips dad pose today. “I saw you reach for something, mister, now what did you do?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The misty little shit shrivels and disappears, leaving an ice-cold sting on his hand out of sight. “It’s fine.”

“Show me your hands.”

“What?”

“Show me your hands, Virgil.”

Virgil sighs and pulls the unstung hand out of his pocket. “See,” he says, waving it for good measure, “nothing to see here.”

Patton just raises an eyebrow. “And what about the other one?”

“C’mon, Pat—“ he sighs when both of Patton’s eyebrows go up— “fine, here.”

Patton’s eyes widen when he sees the mark on Virgil’s palm. He rushes forward instantly, cradling the injured hand and reaching for a towel. Conveniently, he gets one that was quite near where the misty thing had been floating.

“You could’ve told me you were hurt,” he says softly, tending to the sting with such tenderness that Virgil almost believes it’s something to worry about, “I would’ve helped.”

“But it’s fine, Pat,” Virgil sighs, “I could’ve dealt with it.”

“I know, I know.” Patton gives the hand one last dab with the towel before pronouncing it good enough. “But it’s never a crime to let us help you, kiddo.”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth tugs up. “Thanks, Pat.”

“Oh, of course, kiddo. Now you sit tight, the muffins won’t be another ten minutes.”

“Can’t wait.”

Sometimes the Subconscious decides it’s bored of letting just the little misty bastards out and lets out the fucking ooze.

Have you ever seen Venom? Know how the symbioses move and how weird it is to look at?

Yeah, it kinda looks like that, just without the gay domesticity and mutual pining.

Nah, this ooze is mindless, just wants to—well, it doesn’t want anything, it just gets fucking everywhere. Makes it real hard to think sometimes, messes everything up.

Really likes fucking with Logan. Which first off, is not allowed. Don’t fuck with Logan. Don’t fuck with any of them, Virgil can and will kick your ass, but especially don’t fuck with Logan. Remus will tear you apart and no one will stop him. Except for Logan. Maybe. ‘Cause he’s nice like that.

Anyway, Virgil gets a weird tingle between his shoulders when there’s an oozy bitch up and about. He’s sitting on the couch, minding his own damn business, but then there’s that itch between his shoulders and he perks his head up.

Logan sits in a chair, alternating between scrolling on his laptop and making notes in one of his many notebooks. Virgil frowns, looking around, seeing if there’s any goo to keep track of, only to come up with nothing. Huh.

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

Logan tilts his head, concerned. “Are you alright? You look worried.”

He shakes his head, still squinting around the room. “Weird feeling, that’s it.”

“Will you let me know if it gets unbearable?” Virgil nods. “Thank you. Well, I’m going to get some more coffee, would you like any?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, L, that’d be great.”

Logan nods and stands, going to the kitchen. Leaving his laptop unattended on the coffee table.

Virgil watches as a truly massive ooze slides out from between the couch cushions and toward the laptop.

Not today you slimy bastard.

Unfortunately, he’s just a second too slow as a tendril from the ooze touches the laptop and yanks, pulling the laptop off the coffee table and sending it hurtling toward the floor. Virgil bites back a curse and lunges. His hand grabs the ooze just as his arm catches the laptop.

“Get back here, you little shit,” he grunts, opening his hand and using his power to suck the frothing fucker into his arm where it can go the fuck back to the Subconscious.

“Virgil, you—“

Shit.

Virgil looks up, a little guilty, as Logan comes back around the corner holding two coffee mugs. He looks down and raises an eyebrow.

“You…saved my laptop?”

“It was falling,” Virgil mutters, setting the precious cargo back on the coffee table, “didn’t want it to.”

“Ah. Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Logan sets one of the coffee mugs down and reaches out a hand to help him up. “Though I assure you it is not the first time that laptop has been dropped.”

“What do you do with your stuff, Lo, I swear you make more cryptic remarks about it than J.”

“It’s all part of the experiment.”

“See, there you go again!”

And then, then sometimes the Subconscious decides oh, it wants to get inventive and spawn this horrific little ooze-demons. Goat head, four legs, runs about like a creepy little horror game creature, they’re fucking awful. They don’t all look the same but they’re always running and climbing about like some gross as hellcat gremlins. Their nails are so sharp.

These fuckers really like messing with Janus. He’s got too many fun things to pull on, too many heavy clothes for them to pull and make him trip, and they like scurrying up his staff too much. They’re absolute fucking nightmares.

The good news is they’re by far the most obvious of the obnoxious little shits that manage to slip through the barriers of the Subconscious. Virgil hears a weird skittering in his ears and knows that one of the little monsters is loose again. Given how they all flock to Janus like he’s some fucking homing beacon, it’s easy to find them.

Janus is pacing back and forth, yanking angrily at the end of his clothes like they’re about to snag on something, his staff clutched in his hand. His head is down, muttering to himself as Virgil walks up.

“J?”

His head whips around. “Oh. Virgil. Certainly expected to see you here.”

“That’s me, always turning up where I’m not wanted.”

“I didn’t say that,” Janus mumbles, resuming his pacing, “though I didn’t mean to summon you. You can go.”

“You didn’t summon me, J,” Virgil says, leaning against the wall and looking around for wherever the bastards are, “I’m here of my own free will.”

“Free will,” Janus scoffs, turning around, “what the hell even is that?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil spots movement.

“It’s not like there’s some master document of humans where free will is written into it.”

Slowly, Virgil raises his hand toward the spot, not tearing his eyes off it.

“And the belief that animals don’t have it! Ha, some of them exhibit characteristics of choice much more than we do.”

The little fucker snaps at his fingers as he makes a grab for it. He snags it by the scruff of the beck and yanks.

“And what is this about it being provable? Show me one scientific theory that has space in it for free will. Do it, I dare you.”

Virgil bites back a curse as he wrests the pesky shit around the middle, ignoring the way it chomps and snarls at him.

“Just because you have or don’t have free will doesn’t make you exempt from the constraints of society. Even if you aren’t making your own choices that doesn’t mean you’re the exception to the consequences.”

The teeth that sink into the sleeve of his hoodie are the last to vanish as Virgil breathes out, watching the last of it fade as Janus turns around.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, tugging his hat and gloves, “haven’t been…”

“S’okay, J,” Virgil waves with the hoodie sleeve that isn’t ripped, “you’re good. Come on, let’s go eat something.”

“…pasta?”

“Sure thing, danger noodle.”

“Ugh, I take it back.”

“Whatever you say, hazard macaroni.”

“I’m taller than you!”

It makes sense that the Subconscious decides to send the most insidious shit after the twins. They’re the reason the pieces of shit monsters can’t make it up to the rest of them. And for the most part, they know what to look for. They don’t have the same awareness of all the little idiosyncrasies that Virgil does, but they beat back a fair number of them on their own.

Which is why the ones they can’t are tricky.

Remus is Dark Creativity, he lives in the muck with the monsters. Thrives in it. Loves the way the gross and the unwanted and the sickening twist and turn about his realm, thrills in the horrified swoop in his stomach when something truly gruesome rears its ugly fuckin’ head.

What he can’t deal with is the fog.

The first time Virgil saw it, he honestly thought it was smoke. He thought Remus had set something on fire and panicked, reaching through to try and find the blaze, find Remus, find a goddamn fire extinguisher, but it was cold.

Like…really cold.

You know how when the air is really humid it feels like it has a weight to it? Like it hangs over you like a wet rag that you just can’t shake off?

Imagine that but cold.

Virgil shivers and reaches forward, trying to find Remus. He’s still never gotten used to it, even though he’s seen it so many times now. Remus doesn’t make it out of his room when the fog comes. He blames it on creative block but Janus always hisses gently when he says that.

“Remus? Remus,” Virgil calls using his tempest tongue, “where are you, buddy?”

He can’t see Remus yet, but the call did its work. The fog ripples in front of him, almost shying away from the sound waves as he moves. He keeps calling, keeps watching the fog almost flinch as it recedes from him. His voice grows louder, louder. The fog begins to retreat in earnest.

Finally, he sees Remus, curled up on his bed, staring at the wall. Virgil muffles a curse as he strides forward, crooning as softly as he can in tempest tongue while glaring furiously at the fog as it sheepishly retreats. As the last of it fizzles, Remus’s head comes to flop on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Hey, spider-ling,” he mumbles, “when’d you show up?”

“A few minutes ago.” Virgil brushes Remus’s hair off his forehead. “You looked upset, bud, wanted to come check on you.”

“Fucking fine,” comes the slur, signifying that Remus is anything but, “I’m fucking fine, babe.”

“You’re exhausted and cold.” Virgil scoops him up into his arms. “Come on. Let’s go find J. He’ll spoil you.”

Sure enough, as soon as Janus sees Remus lying in Virgil’s arms, he jumps up with a coo and takes the other side from him, lying him down on something warm and promising to get him something warm to drink. No, Remus, not engine fuel. Something safer, at least for right now.

Virgil stands at the door, waiting.

There’s an itch between his shoulders and another chill down his spine.

A cloud of fog emerges from down the hallway. From it, three shadow gremlins canter toward him.

He grits his teeth and braces.

The first one collides with his shoulder and he grabs it, squeezing until the shadow folds in on itself. The second hits his shin and he punts it into a wall, scooping the remnants and absorbing them. The third one vanishes in a quick shout of tempest tongue.

You’re not gonna get them, he thinks as he shouts the fog away, not on my goddamn watch.

The worst part of the Subconscious is the shadows.

Because they all have shadows. They all do. That’s just the nature of being an opaque thing and existing in proximity near light sources. Shadows are a natural by-product of blocking light, that’s it.

Wow, he’s been spending more time with Logan than he thought. Sweet.

But the Subconscious shadows are different. There’s no such thing as dark. Only an absence of light. There is no substance known as ‘dark,’ sure there’s dark energy or dark matter if you go the physics route, but there isn’t a thing ‘dark’ the way there’s a thing ‘light.’

If you looked at the Subconscious shadows, you’d believe otherwise.

They look normal. They look just like normal shadows. Something resting against the wall casts a shadow. Something moving in front of a window casts a shadow. Something sitting on the edge of the desk casts a shadow.

But these shadows move.

You have to pay such close attention to even catch them. You have to know precisely what on your desk is casting what part of the shadow when—hold on, what is that? Is it the water bottle? No, you pick up the water bottle and the cylinder two spaces across move. So you pick up the lamp and no, that’s not it either. You move your hand—your hand’s shadow is easy to track—and you move it to where it should be overlapping with whatever’s casting that shadow. You look closer. But there’s nothing blocking the light where your hand is, nothing between the light and the wall.

You stare at the shadow.

And then it moves.

See? They’re fucking terrifying. Like some Peter Pan gone wrong shit. Creepy, sinister, innocuous-looking, you’ve got to be constantly on guard to catch them. You have to be smart. These ones, out of all the Subconscious monsters, feel the most spiteful. Like they’re doing this on purpose, to terrorize the Mindscape.

That’s probably why they go for Roman.

Roman holds the barriers the most. Remus pushes them to reinforce them, but Roman draws the lines in the sand. Roman is responsible for keeping Thomas safe from the barriers breaking, is largely responsible for Thomas being able to see the Sides at all.

So of course the Subconscious hates him.

Roman is the only one who will summon Virgil when he thinks there’s something wrong. Sure, it’s never been quite as simple as Virgil showing up and Roman telling him he’s scared, he thinks something just moved. They used to just throw barbs at each other until Roman was distracted enough for Virgil to suck up the shadow, or fight until Virgil pointed out where it was and Roman said it was just a test, but they’re better now.

Virgil appears in Roman’s room and immediately looks around. Roman sits on the bed, his hands folded primly over the sword in his lap, polishing the pommel with forced calm.

“There are at least three,” he says, his voice perfectly even, “I can’t keep track of them anymore.”

“It’s okay, Princey,” Virgil says softly, turning and turning to try and catch them, “I’m here now. You did a good thing calling me. Are you alright?”

“I’m here,” Roman says, forcing a little false cheer into it, “not the biggest fan of what’s happening, but I’m here.”

Virgil smiles at him briefly before he sees the flicker.

There.

“Roman,” he says calmly, “I need you to go stand by the window.”

Roman gets up and walks to the window, sitting under the sill and closing his eyes. Virgil grits his teeth and makes his shadow overlap with the one on the wall.

It burns as he starts to absorb it, writhing in protest and screeching silently for the others to come help. Sweat begins to bead on Virgil’s forehead as two move shadows race to enlarge his silhouette. Goddamn, they’re vicious tonight. What the hell would they have done to Roman if he hadn’t called?

Not on my goddamn watch.

He’s panting by the time they’re gone, but he’s alright. He’s good. They’re gone. Roman is safe. He turns and opens his arms, letting Roman come and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you,” Roman murmurs quietly, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Princey, this is my job.” He claps Roman on the shoulder. “You did good too.”

Roman huffs. “I sat in the corner. That’s not much.”

“And you did great. Now come on, Pat’s making cookies.”

“Oh, right, is it Remus’s night to help?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm…maybe we should swing by and warn Logan first.”

“Good idea.”

+1.

Nothing’s happened in a while and Virgil is getting worried.

Normally the longest they go without an incident is a month, maybe, and then it’s normally back-to-back nonsense for like a week.

But it’s been three months. And nothing. No misty tendrils, no puddles of ooze, no snapping gremlins, no fog, no shadows. Virgil’s just about on the verge of running a round-the-clock patrol of the damn place just to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.

As it turns out, he needn’t have bothered.

Stupid, stupid. Idiot.

He fucking missed it. He fucking missed it.

All the other Sides had monsters that went after them specifically. Why should Virgil get left out?

The Subconscious hadn’t been stopping, or slowing down, no. It had been biding its fucking time.

And now…

Virgil scrambles backward, trying to keep himself between the door to the Imagination and the figure in front of him. They slash at him again and he dodges just in the nick of time. He winces, claps a hand to his chest, and literally feels his heart skip a beat as his hand passes right through.

He’s being absorbed.

The figure raises a dripping, shadowy arm and brings the weapon down again. Virgil can’t stop dodging long enough to get a good look at it. He only knows that it fucking hurts and that it’s draining him. Draining him back into the Subconscious.

If he can just keep it here, if he can just hold off long enough to figure out what to do—

Another slash comes down on his arm and he yells, tempest tongue dying in his throat. That one fucking hurt.

He throws a handful of dirt up just to see if maybe it will blind them or give them a moment’s pause but no. The dirt just sinks into it like some fucking nightmare vacuum. The next strike collides.

“Virgil? Virgil?”

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“It’s draining him, move!”

“Hang on, Virgil, we’re coming!”

“Don’t you fucking dare hit him again!”

The figure turns, only to jump out of the way when Remus’s Morningstar smashes into the ground where they had been standing. Remus growls, ripping it out of the soil and swinging again. The figure parries the blow only to let out an inhuman wail as Roman’s sword slices its arm.

“Get the fuck away from him,” Remus snarls.

“Back!” Roman swings again, driving them away from Virgil. “Back, foul beast!”

“Don’t insult them by comparing the beasts to whatever the fuck this is.”

Logan rushes up before Virgil can open his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on, dropping to his knees and pressing something warm to Virgil’s chest.

“Virge? Virge, stay with me,” he calls softly, “come on, it’s alright, we’re here now.”

“How—“ Virgil gasps as his chest starts to…resolidify? “How did you—what? How?”

“Oh, Virgil,” Logan murmurs, rubbing whatever the miracle thing on his chest is in small circles, “did you really think we never noticed that you were trying to fight them by yourself?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“Shh,” he soothes, helping Virgil up into a seated position, “it’s okay. We’re not mad. Just worried. You’re hurt.”

“Fuck!”

“Just stab them, Ro.”

“I’m trying!”

Despite himself, Virgil huffs a laugh as he leans against Logan. “Are they—we should help.”

“You,” Logan says sternly, “will sit here and let me finish making sure you won’t be drained. The twins can handle themselves.”

Still, Virgil’s heart stays in his throat until he spies something else running up the hill. A shadow beast, a massive one.

“Logan, look out—”

Logan turns and—

Who the fuck gave Logan a gun?

The shadow beast has flopped over onto its side and dissipated, Logan already back to tending to Virgil’s wound but the time Virgil’s dizzy, half-drained brain figures out what just happened.

“You…you shot it.”

Logan quirks an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

“Remus!”

“Get back!”

“What the hell is it doing?”

“It’s growing, shit, Ro, we gotta fall back.”

“Guard Logan, check on Virgil, I’m right behind you!”

The twins rush up and form a guard around Logan and Virgil as the shadow figure swells. Virgil’s eyes widen as it growls, growing larger and larger and larger still until the shadows look strapped at the seams, fit to burst. It grows claws. It grows teeth. It grows more limbs than he can count.

It leers down at them and opens a gaping, black maw.

“Now!”

Roman crouches down to shield him as dirt flies up around them. Logan bends in too as something equally massive soars overhead. Virgil manages to peek between Roman and Remus to see a blur of green tackle the monster.

“Is that…is that Patton?”

“I believe it’s ‘Lily Pad-ton,’” Logan corrects wryly as the twins snicker, “but…yes.”

Judging by the roar of the monster, he’s doing something.

“Where’s Janus,” he hears Roman hiss, “he should’ve been here by now.”

“There!”

Remus points and Virgil spots a fucking enormous yellow snake unhinging its jaw. The monster howls as it starts to vanish down the snake’s gullet.

“Holy fuck.”

“I think Janny’s hungry.”

“Pissed off, more like.” Roman lays a hand protectively on Virgil’s shoulder, squeezing encouragingly as Virgil gasps at the contact. “Whatever that thing is hurt Virgil.”

Remus growls in assent.

The thing in Virgil’s chest starts to burn hotter. Logan shushes him gently as he whines in pain.

“It’s alright, Virgil, you’re almost done. We’re right here, just breathe.”

“You’re safe, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs as he starts to list side to side, “we’ve got you.”

“Nothing’s gonna fucking touch you,” he hears Remus snarl as he passes out, “promise.”

He comes to an indeterminate amount of time later, laid out on the couch, his head in Patton’s lap. He blinks.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, stroking his hair, “you feel any better?”

“Um, yeah,” he mumbles, turning a little and wincing at the pull in his chest, “what…what happened?”

“We won.” Roman pats his arm. “All safe now. You did great.”

“All I did was lie there.”

“Yeah, and you did great.” He winks.

Virgil’s gaze rolls around to catch Logan setting down a glass of water and crouching by his head.

“L?”

“You’re all better physically,” Logan says softly, “but it might take some time for you to feel like it. Just take it easy for a while.”

“And that means,” comes Remus’s voice from over the couch, “you gotta let us help defend you too.”

Virgil flushes. “But it’s not your job.”

“Are you insinuating that our job is not to take care of you?” Roman holds his hand to his chest in a mock gasp. “Because that is rude.”

Patton gives his hair a gentle tug. “We’re gonna look after you, kiddo, you deserve it.”

“I—um…” Virgil swallows heavily. “But if I dealt with it properly you wouldn’t have to.”

A soft hiss comes from the chair. Virgil looks and sees Janus sitting there, one leg crossed over the other. He smiles softly.

“You can let us help you, sweetie,” he murmurs, “rest for a little. Don’t try and take on the Subconscious by yourself.”

“…okay.” He squints. “Wait, why are you all the way over there?”

“Digesting,” Janus says, completely dignified.

Virgil snorts. “I’m just sad I missed it.”

“Oh, it was fucking epic.”

“Language, kiddo.”

“Oh, come on, you were great—“

Logan chuckles next to his head as Virgil drifts back off to sleep with a smile on his face.

…he is gonna ask who gave Logan a gun after he wakes up properly.

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nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

Fnv Companions react to Fem Courier being trans girl (sorry feel abit of self projection today hahah)

Don't feel sorry for wanting to see yourself reflected in the world around you, we all want to know that we belong.

The Forecaster frowned, and his eyes moved rapidly from left to right as if scanning some hidden radar. "Your face does the thinking... two to the skull, yet one gets up," he said.

The courier who stood before the boy nodded and touched her fingers to her temple, almost reflexively. "That's me."

"Odds are against you," the Forecaster went on, squinting. "But they're just numbers after the two-to-one. You've changed suits once, clubs to diamonds, and now you're playing the hand you've been dealt."

At this, the courier stiffened suddenly. "Um..."

The Forecaster went on, unaware of his customer's discomfort. "But you don't let it rest, you shuffle and stack, and a gamble... a gamble that may pay off? But how? Forecast: Rapidly changing conditions."

"Um... thanks." The courier counted out the caps and handed them over to the boy, then beat a hasty retreat from beneath the overpass.

Once back atop Highway 95, she took her traveling companion aside. "Before you think I worked for some Mojave faction and deserted, that thing he said about changing suits... I didn't think he'd... what he meant was... I wasn't always..."

She sighed and ran a hand over her head. "Hell, it's about time I told you anyway. I'm trans."

Arcade Gannon: Arcade stopped her before she could stumble into an over-explanation. "It's, uh, it's okay. I... may have already known."

"You..." The courier's eyes widened. "You did? But who told you?"

"I, um..." Arcade straightened his glasses and looked up at the sky, avoiding eye contact. "Oh boy. Doctor Usanagi..."

Immediately, the courier's eyes narrowed. "... doesn't betray doctor-patient confidentiality, but I was in one of her medical clinics that day you came in for the NEMEAN sub-dermal armor," Arcade finished hastily. "She, uh, asked me and a couple of the others to help her close you up."

"Oh." The courier relaxed her stance a bit. "Oh yeah, I remember. I mean, I don't remember you, but I do remember signing the form that said I was okay with med student assistance. Why didn't you say anything, when I first asked you to tag along?"

Arcade shrugged. "I don't betray doctor-patient confidentiality either. Usanagi hammers that into you pretty hard on day one. Besides, something like that doesn't matter much outside of a doctor's office."

Craig Boone: Boone shrugged. "Okay."

The courier's eyes darted around his countenance, looking for some kind of stronger reaction. "Nothing? Not even a 'congratulations' or a disapproving grimace? Who are you, Boone?"

"Unconcerned," he shot back testily. "Unless it affects your aim somehow, it's not a problem. If that's what you're asking."

The courier sighed. "No, it's... you're fine. I guess I'm still pretty defensive about it. Especially around NCR types."

Boone nodded. "There were a few officers that Manny and I operated under who weren't the open-minded sort. They didn't last long."

Lily Bowen: Lily looked positively stormy. "Did that young man just air your personal business for the whole trading post to hear without a care in the world?" she thundered, with all her grandmotherly might. "Let's go back, dearie, I need to give him a piece of my mind."

"Lily, no," the courier protested, grabbing the nightkin's arm before she could stomp off toward the overpass again. "He probably doesn't even know what he said, it's just part of his gift. And no one's going to put two and two together unless I tell them outright, like I did you."

"If you say so, pumpkin." Lily smiled and settled herself. "But I can always ask Leo for a little help if anyone has cross words for you about this."

The courier sighed and patted her companion's arm. "No need for that, Lily. That reminds me, you should take your medication today."

Lily wrapped her up in a hug. "You take such good care of Grandma, my sweet girl."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Mija." Raul smiled. "How long you been holding onto that for?"

The courier let out the breath she'd taken, and her shoulders sank back to a normal level. "Well not everyone takes news like that too well. I didn't know if you would... mind."

"Mind?" Raul shook his head. "Oye. I've lived a long time, out here in the desert. It's a lonely place, even if you're surrounded by a crowd on the Strip. You can lose yourself pretty easily, lose sight of what you want, what you are. I'd know better than most. If you held onto who you want to be, then that's a victory, in the Mojave."

"Um..." The courier's eyes were shiny with tears, but before Raul could comment or pull out a handkerchief, she'd enveloped him in an unexpected hug. "Thanks, viejo."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Well, I'll be a gecko's uncle." Cass grinned. "You're serious? All this time on the road together, and you didn't think you could tell me that? I'm wounded, Six."

"Hey now, you were slow to trust me, too," the courier pointed out with a growing smirk. "I was gonna tell you after the Silver Rush situation, if we made it out alive, but then we did and you were riding so high at the Atomic Wrangler that I didn't want to dampen your memory of that day."

"Dampen my..." Cass chuckled and clapped the courier on the shoulder. "Better fix your metaphor there, Six. Rain in the desert is a good thing. And trust between friends would never dampen my day."

She held up a hand before the courier could protest. "I know, I know what you were worried about. Trust me, I'm not the type to froth at the mouth over propriety or 'family values.' Thought you'd've picked up on that, with my smart mouth and wanderin' eyes."

"Wandering..." The courier ducked out from under her arm and danced away, laughing. "Uh-uh. I helped you with your vendetta, now you help me with mine. Then we'll buy a drink at the Tops and talk, whiskey rose."

Veronica Santangelo: "You..." Veronica's eyes went as wide as the Mojave's full moon. "Oh. Oh."

Slowly, the Scribe sank into a sitting position on the cracked asphalt. "That explains a few things, I suppose."

The courier sat down next to her. "Like what?"

Veronica started ticking things off on her fingers. "Both that guy in Primm and the bartender in Goodsprings called you by a different name, but they were the same name and it sounded kind of like yours so I wrote it off as a coincidence. Benny didn't recognize you right away, even though he shot you in the head. And Arcade locked us all out of your room that time you took some shrapnel to the torso and were laid up in the Lucky 38 until you weren't covered in bandages."

"Oh yeah." The courier grinned. "Surprised you didn't piece it together sooner, then."

"I sometimes forget that's something people can do," Veronica admitted. "Remember when I said that some in the Brotherhood don't look too kindly on those who choose relationships that don't produce new children? Well, ditto and worse for those who want to transition. Most of the ones brave enough to do it anyway don't stay Brotherhood for long."

ED-E: The eyebot beeped in mock surprise, then whizzed around the courier three times playing triumphant music. She giggled and swatted the bot away playfully. "Go on then. I have no idea how you could've known, but there it is."

ED-E beeped quizzically once it came to a stop.

"Why hide it?" the courier responded. "Well, unlike robots, some people think it's strange to change your... parts. Or even just your classification. Honestly, it's old-world thinking, no clue."

The eyebot beeped long and low, almost like a coo of affection and reassurance.

"Thanks, ED-E," the courier said with a smile. "I'll try to remember that."

Rex: Rex cocked his head to the side. The courier knelt down to his level and scratched his ears, inspecting his new brain and cybernetic limbs as she did.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this," she murmured, increasing her attentions as Rex leaned into her. "You probably already knew, with that amazing nose of yours. I think your owner knows, otherwise why keep spouting that line of his whenever I come around?"

Rex whined, and the courier smiled. "You know. 'Do what's right for you, so long as it don't hurt no one.' Got that seared into my brain as surely as that bullet, thanks to him. I bet that king he's worshipping never even said that."

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contemplativepancakes · 3 years

Text

five times geralt saw jaskier naked on accident + one time it was entirely on purpose. ~6k. Read on AO3 here!

“Get back here, you mangy knob!” echoes down the hallway, and Geralt pauses on the way to his room.

It’s been a long night, and Geralt would like nothing better than to collapse into bed, but trouble has a habit of following Jaskier like flies to shit. He’s the whole reason Geralt even has a bed for the night, so Geralt sighs and follows the shouting.

He wishes he could say he’s surprised when he rounds a corner and Jaskier runs head first into him, but honestly, it’s nothing short of expected. What does throw Geralt for a loop, though, is the fact that Jaskier is completely naked, expanses of smooth skin exposed as he sprawls back on the ground in a very undignified manner, clutching his nose.

“Fuck, Geralt!” he cries, but it comes out garbled. “You broke my nose!”

The man who was chasing after Jaskier comes to a sudden halt, panting in front of them. “He slept with my wife!”

Geralt frowns. “Are you sure it was him?”

The man gapes and gestures at Jaskier’s nakedness. Geralt curses Jaskier for being so obvious; it makes his job much more complicated.

“Maybe he can give you some tips on how to satisfy her so she doesn’t feel the need to look elsewhere next time,” Geralt suggests, one hand coming up to casually rest on the hilt of his dagger strapped to his belt.

“It’s all about the tongue,” Jaskier pipes up in a nasally tone, and Geralt rolls his eyes.

The man’s eyes dart from Geralt to Jaskier, and back to Geralt before a look of realization crosses his face and it drains of color. “You’re… the butcher of Blaviken?”

“That’s him! So you’d best get back to your chambers if you want to keep all your limbs!” Jaskier crows, but only half of it is intelligible through the hand he’s holding to his nose.

The man looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but he bites his lip and retreats, after one last withering glance at Jaskier.

Geralt turns to Jaskier, suddenly very aware of his lack of clothing. “Will you ever learn?” he asks in exasperation. “I’m not always going to be around to clean up your messes, you know.”

“I’m fairly certain you have a much longer life expectancy than me,” Jaskier lisps, looking up at Geralt with doe eyes.

Geralt sighs and sticks out a hand to help Jaskier up.

Jaskier takes it, his fingertips lingering on the soft flesh of Geralt’s forearm, and heaves himself up. His hand stays on Geralt’s arm, and Geralt drags him back to their room.

“Sit,” he says gruffly, rustling around in his pack for a clean rag.

He steps over to the wash basin and dips it in before walking back to over Jaskier. He wipes the blood away from Jaskier’s nose gently, but an observer wouldn’t think so from the way Jaskier winces and groans.

Geralt sighs. “Serves you right.”

“That’s just cruel, Geralt.” Jaskier squirms on the bed, pulling a corner of the blanket over his lap.

Geralt resolutely focuses on his face. He squints at Jaskier’s nose, which is just the slightest bit crooked. “This is going to hurt,” Geralt warns. “One, two.”

Jaskier yelps as Geralt sets his nose back into its proper place, finishing up dabbing the blood away before he packs Jaskier’s nose full of gauze. “There,” he says. “Good as new.”

There are tears welling in Jaskier’s eyes from the pain. “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” he says weakly.

“Maybe you’ll be able to go more than a week without cuckolding another husband this time.”

Jaskier lets out an indignant snort. “Hey, sometimes I just sleep with the husbands themselves. Then I have to watch what I eat, though,” he blathers on, and Geralt is honestly impressed with the lengths of his chatter even when Geralt imagines it must be painful to speak. “Have sex with one wrong person, and all of a sudden everyone and their mother is trying to poison you.”

Geralt’s not sure how to respond.

Jaskier sighs and turns over in the bed. “Good night, Geralt.”

“Try not to drown in your own blood.”

“Always nice to know you care.”

And then, almost too softly for Jaskier to hear, “Good night, Jask.”

ii.

Geralt jerks awake and sits up in his bed roll. The fire is crackling happily, a far cry from the smoldering logs Geralt would have expected. He looks around, and Jaskier is gone. Normally, this would worry him, but if Jaskier took the time to stoke their fire, that probably means he hasn’t been eaten. Most likely.

The slight chance that something untoward has happened propels Geralt out of the warmth of his blankets. He tugs on his boots and follows the faint scent of Jaskier, a warm mix of wood smoke and contentedness, these days.

His nose leads him to the river bank, and he hovers right on the edge of the tree line, scouting for any possible dangers. He doesn’t see any, but as he does his sweep, his gaze catches on Jaskier’s bare back and lingers there. There’s a smattering of freckles that Geralt can just barely make out, until they disappear when Jaskier dunks his hair under the water.

Geralt knows that he should stop just standing here, should either reveal himself or just slink back to their camp and start packing things up, but he finds himself rooted in place as Jaskier rubs a rag over his shoulder blades.

Geralt is half tempted to offer his help in reaching Jaskier’s back, but he knows how that would probably be received.

Geralt is transfixed as Jaskier begins to sing, and he sinks down to sit with his back to a tree to listen. Jaskier is always wanting his opinion on his songs, so surely he’d be fine with this, right?

It's not fair, oh, it's not fair how much I love you

It's not fair, 'cause you make me ache, you bastard

And he'll say

Oh, how, oh, how unreasonable

How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do

I'll spend my days so close to you

'Cause if I'm stood here, then I'm stood here

And I'll stand—

Geralt’s jerked out of his trance of listening to Jaskier sing in his honeyed tones by a disturbance in the water, and Geralt focuses in on the ripples that are starting to froth before a drowner emerges, its scaly skin glistening in the morning light. Jaskier screams, and Geralt leaps from his hiding spot, unsheathing his sword.

Jaskier turns to look at the new disturbance with wide eyes, minutely relaxing when he sees it’s Geralt. Geralt jumps into the water, landing on the drowner’s back. It jerks and bucks, deceptively strong as it tries to toss Geralt off. Geralt hooks his hands around its neck, his sword gripped precariously.

The drowner gives one last shake, and Geralt goes flying, his sword falling with a splash. There’s a clawed, webbed hand on Geralt’s head, forcing him under the water. He thrashes, trying to get free, but to no avail. Geralt keeps his mouth tightly shut, and his lungs start to burn as he continues to fight.

Bright spots start to dance at the edge of his vision, getting darker and fuzzier now, and Geralt knows he’s right on the verge of losing consciousness. He’s unable to stop his gasp for air, but only water finds his lungs. He’s resigned himself to this being the way it ends when suddenly the grip goes lax and he’s able to propel himself to the water’s surface, gasping for breath.

“Geralt? Geralt?” comes a worried voice, floaty and distant sounding. “Geralt, are you okay?”

There’s a pounding on his back, and water dribbles from his lips. A litany of curses follow and sharp tugs on his arm that lead him back to the bank.

Geralt coughs and splutters, more water escaping him as he finally registers Jaskier pacing around anxiously... completely naked. Geralt chokes, and Jaskier is there in an instant, a warm hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circles.

“You’re okay,” he croons with a gentle pat.

Geralt doesn’t feel okay. He feels like he about died and is seconds away from doing it again via spontaneous combustion at the sight of all Jaskier’s skin on display. Geralt picks a spot on the distance and fixes his gaze on it.

“Good thing you were around,” Jaskier says finally, and Geralt burns in shame at the thought of why exactly he was there.

He’s lucky Jaskier isn’t running away in repulsion, like he would be if he knew the truth.

Jaskier asks him if he’s okay yet again, and Geralt grunts.

“Oh, goody, you’re well enough for monosyllabic conversation. Back to normal, then.”

Geralt grunts again, and Jaskier laughs, a delightful trilling thing.

“Oh, here you go,” Jaskier says, handing Geralt back his sword that’s covered in monster guts and ichor.

Geralt’s eyes do not bug out as the realization hits him. “You… you?”

“Well, it was drowning you! I couldn’t just stand around, now could I?”

“I...suppose not,” Geralt mutters, but in actuality, he can count on one hand the number of times someone’s actually come to his aid while he was fighting a monster. The most he can wish for is someone who won’t recoil as they patch up his wounds later.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re acting a bit,” Jaskier pauses, “distracted.”

“I’m fine,” he says gruffly.

“Well, I guess it’s not every day you have a near death experience,” Jaskier muses, “Oh, wait.”

“Maybe if I didn’t have to save your sorry ass so often.” Geralt shoves at him and instantly flushes red as his hand touches Jaskier’s bare skin and he registers again that he’s naked.

“Put on some clothes,” Geralt mumbles, averting his eyes.

There’s a heavy silence as Geralt waits for Jaskier to say something in response, some sort of rib, but nothing comes, just the soft swish of fabric as he gets dressed.

Geralt grits his teeth.

iii.

Geralt trudges down the rocky path, Roach just behind him. The trail from Kaer Morhen is downright treacherous at the best of times and fatal at worst, so Geralt would rather walk than risk Roach making a wrong step and sending them both pitching off a cliff.

Not that that would be entirely unwelcome, after the winter Geralt has just endured. Eskel and Lambert took great pride in elbowing Geralt and making him the butt of their every joke, saying in glee that they could smell the longing drifting off of him.

“Is Geralt in loooove?” Lambert had sang, until Geralt shoved him off his chair to shut him up.

Lambert tumbled to the floor with a clatter of his armor, but he still wore his unbearably smug expression. Eskel had looked at him with soft eyes. “You could have brought them here, you know. I want to know whoever can make you happy.”

“Yeah, we all know how impossible that is for Mr. Melancholy,” Lambert said.

Geralt shakes his head and puts his focus back on putting one foot in front of the other. The other witchers had endlessly pestered him about his plans for the spring, but Geralt hadn’t wanted to tell them. He likes Jaskier being just for him, and he had waited impatiently for the snow to melt in the pass. He was the first to set out, and he valiantly tried to ignore Lambert’s snickers as he left.

Geralt is headed to Oxenfurt. He and Jaskier hadn’t made set plans to meet up, because it normally doesn’t take too long for them to accidentally on purpose run into each other, but this year, Geralt doesn’t want to wait. The winter had stretched out into much longer than normal, with biting cold and piles of snow, so Geralt is more than ready to be warm again.

When the path finally stops twisting and turning, Geralt mounts Roach and picks up their pace a bit. It’s certainly only because he’s eager to sleep in a bed, never mind that he’s been sleeping in one all winter.

Geralt pulls his hood up against the early spring chill and soldiers on.

When Geralt finally arrives, several days and sleepless nights later, it’s just before dawn. Jaskier has always had a proclivity towards nocturnal behavior, with only Geralt’s need to be up and moving at first light tempering it, so Geralt doesn’t think Jaskier will mind the intrusion.

Geralt ties Roach to a hitching post, promising to come back and find her a stable once the sun breaks over the horizon, and then he wanders until streets start to look familiar, and Jaskier’s cozy house comes into view.

Geralt steps up to the door and knocks, and he definitely does not try to tame his hair into some semblance of kempt or get an anxious churning in his stomach at the prospect of seeing Jaskier again. There’s no answer to his knock, so he tries again, but Jaskier still doesn’t materialize. Geralt tries the knob, and to his alarm, it’s unlocked.

His first thought is one of panic—what if something’s wrong? Jaskier wouldn’t just leave his door unlocked; someone could walk right in and steal his lute. Geralt opens the door quietly and creeps through the dark house. There are no immediate signs that there’s anything amiss. There are only three rooms, and Geralt eases the bedroom door open to peek inside. He’s immediately arrested by Jaskier sprawled out naked on his bed.

Geralt takes a hurried step back, but not before his eyes dart all over Jaskier’s body. He’s just taking stock of any new injuries Jaskier might have incurred while Geralt wasn’t around to protect him from the wrath of cuckolded husbands, that’s all. Jaskier looks paler and more gaunt than he was when Geralt left him, but Geralt supposes that’s just a side effect of winter.

Geralt retreats slowly, locking the door behind him and resolving to come back when the sun is high in the sky.

Geralt stumbles onto the street, the early morning light making everything washed out as he scuffs his boots along the ground. He meanders back the way he came, deciding he’ll stable Roach and then see about something for breakfast. He hadn’t felt hungry in his haste to get to Jaskier, but now that his enthusiasm has been tempered, he’s starving. He tries to remember the last time he stopped to eat something more substantial than whatever he could pull out of his pack. Two, three, days ago, maybe?

Roach comes into view, pawing her hoof against the dirt impatiently. Geratlt huffs a laugh as he walks closer, untying her reins from the hitch and clicking his tongue as he leads her in a direction that he’s getting a big whiff of horse from.

Geralt leaves Roach at the stables, with his usual stern frown at the stable boy and a chastisement to Roach to be good as she nips at his shirt.

Roach taken care of, he sets off to look for something to eat, wondering if it’s too soon for Jaskier to be up yet. His eyes flicker shut for a moment as he thinks of the Jaskier’s robe, and how if he goes right now and knocks on his door, he might answer wearing that and nothing else.

Although, if he does that, even Jaskier might be able to smell the lust rolling off of him.

Geralt sighs and continues his trudge, until he stops in his tracks and redirects his path. He looks up at the sun’s position in the sky. It’s been long enough. Surely Jaskier is wearing actual clothes by now?

Geralt walks back to Jaskier’s home, the path turning from dirt to cobblestone as he gets closer. There’s a patch of grass peeking between the stones with three orange wildflowers growing in it. Geralt stoops down and picks them without thinking too much about it.

Geralt carries the flowers loosely in one hand down at his side. When he reaches the steps leading up to Jaskier’s door, he pauses to steel himself, to try to prepare himself for if Jaskier’s whole chest is on display in his robe, but he’s interrupted by an obnoxious throat clearing.

Geralt whirls around to glare at the person, but he’s arrested by the sight of a man scowling right back at him. “Hope you’re not planning to bother some nice girl, Witcher. Like anyone would ever want you.”

Geralt glances down at the flowers in his hand, and then back to the man, mouth flapping uselessly. He has a point.

“She’s probably just too scared to tell you to fuck off,” the man sneers, and Geralt’s fingers itch to pull his dagger from his belt, but he restrains himself.

He surreptitiously looks around for a place to drop the flowers. The man is right; this is a terrible idea. What is he hoping to accomplish with this? Just to make Jaskier smile? He’s an idiot.

A door slams open, and then, “Well, I have no such qualms. Fuck off.”

Geralt turns around to see Jaskier—and thank fuck he’s wearing clothes this time, but he’s wearing that ridiculous lavender robe, with his leg jutting out right below where it’s knotted together. Geralt desperately averts his eyes, turning back around to frown at the man, but he’s disappeared.

He looks at Jaskier, then, drinking him in after a winter apart. Jaskier makes a pleased hum in the back of his throat. “For me?” he asks, holding out his hands for the flowers.

Geralt hands them over without comment, but he can’t hide the smallest of smiles as he follows Jaskier into the house, Jaskier chattering away about everything Geralt missed.

And, gods, did he miss a lot.

iv.

When Geralt bolts awake this time, Jaskier is gone again. Geralt would be concerned that just anyone could sneak up on him while he’s sleeping, but he knows his body has started to become in tune with the sound of Jaskier and it no longer deems it necessary to rip him from his sleep for just Jaskier padding around.

Still, Geralt wipes the sleep from his eyes and slowly gets up to start disassembling their camp. Jaskier will be back soon, and then they can be on their way. Geralt casts his eyes to the horizon, noting the first rays of morning peeking over it.

Geralt ambles over to where he had tethered Roach to a tree and scratches his fingertips over her neck. She headbutts his other hand, impatiently waiting for her breakfast. Geralt huffs a laugh.

Geralt has everything packed up and he’s been leaning against a tree impatiently for three minutes when he starts to get worried. Who knows what could be in these woods? There could be any number of things looking to make a meal out of Jaskier.

Geralt paces in a circle around their doused fire. On one hand, Jaskier could be doing something like taking a shit somewhere, but on the other hand, he might be hurt.

Geralt freezes when he hears a faint strangled cry, and his feet are moving even though his mind has barely registered the sound. Geralt crashes through the underbrush, uncaring about how much noise he makes or the thorns that tear against his skin, until he skids to a stop in front of Jaskier. In front of Jaskier, who locks eyes with him while his cock is in his hand and comes with an aborted gasp.

Heat burns up Geralt’s face. “Sorry, I—” he cuts himself off and flees back the way he came.

He berates himself as he walks back to their camp. They haven’t been in a town in over three weeks, why was that not what he expected? In all honesty, that’s why he hadn’t gone after Jaskier immediately, but after he heard him shout all of the thoughts of restraint flew out of his brain. The only thing he could focus on was Jaskier needing help.

Geralt tries not to dwell on the thought of how Jaskier’s cock had looked, flushed and jutting out proudly. Geralt pulls Roach’s brush out of the saddle bag and works her over carefully, making sure every hair is going the same way and helping her shed her thick winter coat.

By the time Jaskier stumbles back, Geralt had thought he had managed to put the incident out of his mind, but the sight of Jaskier proves him wrong. “Ready to go?” Geralt grunts.

Jaskier opens his mouth and shuts it with a click of his teeth. “What are we waiting for?”

Geralt swings himself up onto Roach, and doesn’t let himself look back to make sure Jaskier follows.

Geralt’s eyes crack open as the door to the inn room squeaks. He grunts in displeasure at being disturbed, and then remembers Jaskier is supposed to be with the barmaid and bolts upright. The door is just out of view from the bed, so Geralt eases himself out of bed and picks up the dagger. He creeps to where the wall juts out and then jumps out on the other side, revealing himself.

“Is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?” Jaskier laughs nervously, and Geralt sheepishly drops the dagger onto the chair as his eyes widen.

“What is with you and always being naked?” Geralt growls in frustration, trying not to look at the creamy expanse of Jaskier’s skin, marred with freckles instead of scars like Geralt’s.

Jaskier’s brows pull together in confusion. “What?”

“Nevermind. Just—what is going on?”

“Ah. Right. That. I got…kicked out.”

“Did she have a husband?”

“Um, yes, yes, that’s exactly right. He did not appreciate the soiling of their marital bed.”

Geralt rolls his eyes fondly even as a pang of longing lodges itself right between his ribs. He doesn’t stop to examine it for too long.

Geralt turns his back and slips back over to the bed. The one bed, because he had thought he would be alone tonight. Geralt sighs.

There’s a quiet swish of fabric as Jaskier pulls on some clothes. “That was one of my favorite shirts, and now it’ll probably end up burnt or some other ridiculous thing.”

The doublet in question was a gaudy scarlet thing with obnoxious gold threading and beading sewn into it. The light always caught on it just wrong to shine into Geralt’s eyes and give him a headache. “What a pity.”

Jaskier shoves at his shoulder as he clambers into the bed without a second thought. Geralt swallows hard at the dip of the lumpy mattress, at the body what so close to his all of a sudden. Jaskier’s heartbeat thuds, and a peculiar smell drifts off of him that Geralt can’t quite place.

Geralt turns over so that he’s facing Jaskier. “What’s wrong?”

Jaskier buries his face into the pillow. The one pillow, that he tugs away from Geralt. “Nothing,” he says, heaving a dramatic sigh.

“Hmm. Well.” Geralt pauses and tries to think of a way to respond that won’t have Jaskier calling him an emotionless boulder later. “If you want to talk about it, I can listen.”

Jaskier lifts his head up from the pillow to meet Geralt’s eyes. “Wow, I didn’t know that I was speaking to anything other than the wall when I talk to you.”

Geralt yanks the pillow out from under Jaskier and hits him with it. “Shut up.”

+ i.

Jaskier sighs as he unfurls his bedroll. He’s been unleashing heavy sighs about once an hour for the past week, and it’s driving Geralt up the wall. He’s asked Jaskier if everything was all right four separate times now, and Jaskier has brushed him off each time.

“Jaskier, just tell me what’s the matter,” he begs after Jaskier sighs as he returns with water from the stream.

Jaskier plops the bucket down right next to the fire, and some splashes out and douses the small smolder Geralt had got started.

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls before Jaskier can even react.

“Fine! You want to know what’s so wrong? It’s you!”

Geralt rears back, blinking rapidly. He wants to make a beeline for Roach and try to get the feeling of Jaskier’s eyes boring into his out of his mind as soon as possible, but he can’t just leave Jaskier high and dry out here all alone. Geralt shakes his head and turns away.

“Wait,” Jaskier’s hand comes around to clamp onto Geralt’s wrist. Geralt nearly shakes him off, but then Jaskier is saying again, “Wait. That’s not what I meant.”

Geralt meets Jaskier’s eyes cautiously and arches an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

Jaskier rubs the back of his neck. “You know I got kicked out of that room the other night.”

Geralt grunts. “For cuckolding the husband?”

“Well, yes, but not exactly. I lied. There was no husband. Turns out some people aren’t all that impressed when you say the wrong name in the heat of things.”

“Jaskier, what does that have to do with—”

“It’s you, Geralt,” he whispers.

“Oh.”

Geralt is taken aback. He’s never had this happen with a human before. It’s… hard to imagine that a human could see him as anything other than repulsive, something to be tolerated just to part him from his coin.

“And now I see that I’ve made a complete and total mess of things. I’m sorry, I’ll just—”

As Jaskier’s grip on his wrist loosens, Geralt takes Jaskier’s hand instead. “You haven’t made a mess of anything.”

Jaskier’s eyes widen before he reaches the hand Geralt isn’t holding up to cup Geralt’s face. Geralt turns his head to nuzzle into Jaskier’s hand, and Jaskier leans forward to press his lips to Geralt. Their fingers become untangled as they move on, Jaskier’s coming up to twist in Geralt’s hair, and Geralt’s stroking across Jaskier’s cheek bone.

When they pull away, Jaskier lets out a disbelieving chuckle. “Wow. It seems like I could have saved my hand some work while we were on the road.”

Geralt rolls his eyes at Jaskier’s crudeness.

“Come on, you know that was funny,” Jaskier wheedles into his ear.

Geralt pushes him aside and crouches down to rebuild their fire. “You’re rarely funny.”

Jaskier claps a hand over his chest and splutters. “Okay, still incredibly rude. Nice to know some things never change, I suppose.”

Jaskier huffs and walks away, going over to feed Roach while Geralt attempts to find some kindling that isn’t damp.

A smile tugs at Geralt’s lips.

When the fire is roaring once again, Geralt wanders over to where Jaskier is now sitting against a tree.

Geralt sits down beside him. “I do think you’re funny sometimes,” he admits.

“You’ve already wounded my pride, Geralt; it’s too late.”

“And so if I offered you a… hand, you’d turn me down?”

Jaskier jerks his head up and turns to Geralt. “That is not what I said in any way, shape, or form.”

“Hmm.”

In the end, it doesn’t happen that night, or the day after that. It’s when they’re finally at an inn that Jaskier pounces on him. Geralt has barely shut the door to their room when Jaskier is on him. “I’ve been so patient,” he whines.

Geralt raises his eyebrows, unconvinced. “All you had to do was ask.”

“Geralt, you’re impossible,” Jaskier huffs in exasperation. “Well, I’m asking now.”

Geralt kisses him, slow and sweet, and Jaskier groans his eagerness into his mouth.

Jaskier’s fingers fumble with the clasps of his armor, until Geralt laughs and takes it off himself. When he turns back around after carefully setting all the pieces on a chair, Jaskier is already naked, and finally, Geralt allows himself to look. He drinks it in, notices the tiny scar Jaskier has on his thigh, rakes his eyes over Jaskier’s chest. He moves closer so he can comb his fingers down the hair between Jaskier’s pecs, and he preens at the attention.

Jaskier reaches down to undo his trousers, and Geralt steps out of them. He takes off his shirt, and sheds his smallclothes, looking back up to see Jaskier staring at him. His soft expression turns into a self satisfied grin as he hums to himself.

“What?” Geralt asks, already sure he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“Nothing. Okay, fine, just—the carpet matches the drapes, is all.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “It’s a mutation. Do you think I would choose for it to be white? What were you expecting?”

“You’re no fun,” Jaskier pauses. “What color did your hair used to be?”

Geralt stops and thinks. “Brown, probably? I don’t remember.”

Jaskier whistles. “That’s terribly sad. Do you think your childhood would make a good ballad? I bet it would.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt grits out.

“Okay, okay. Insensitive, I apologize.”

Geralt pulls back, but Jaskier winds his arms around his shoulders and keeps him in place. “I’m sorry,” he says again, rubbing his nose against the delicate skin of Geralt’s neck.

Geralt shudders and lets Jaskier distract him. It’s not like his childhood is something he particularly likes to dwell on, especially when there’s something much better for him to focus on in the form of Jaskier’s swelling cock judging against his hip.

Jaskier presses up close against him, bracketing Geralt against the door and putting his palm flat over Geralt’s heart before he kisses him again.

Geralt lets the sensation wash over him, the pleasant feelings and the vibration that sends a thrumming through his bones. He walks Jaskier back to the bed and lays him out, crawling on top and straddling him.

Jaskier sucks in a breath. “Gods, Geralt. You’re beautiful.”

A hot blush rises to Geralt’s face and he turns away, but Jaskier takes his wrist.

“Don’t mock me,” Geralt mumbles.

“Darling,” Jaskier says, sitting up and taking both of Geralt’s hands in his. “I’m not.”

Geralt doesn’t know how to respond. He looks down at his body, littered with scars, some pink and small and some, long healed, white and wicked looking. “Hmm.”

Jaskier sighs and tugs Geralt in for another kiss, before he maneuvers Geralt so he’s the one laying down. Jaskier works his way down Geralt’s body, lingering on each scar until Geralt squirms uncomfortably beneath him.

Jaskier huffs a soft laugh as he makes it to the soft inside of Geralt’s thighs, and Geralt starts squirming for a different reason. A whine comes from the back of Geralt’s throat as Jaskier continues to ignore his cock, throbbing and painful at this point.

Jaskier finally has pity on him and takes him in hand, making Geralt sigh and his eyes flutter shut. Jaskier jacks him quickly, bringing Geralt to the edge faster than he would like to admit before he backs off and moves his hand. He goes back to tracing Geralt’s scars, his fingertips finding the one that cut through the muscle of his leg and healed jagged and rough.

He hovers over a different one, looking up at Geralt with a question in his eyes. Jaskier’s wheedled most of the stories of his scars out of him, but this one—Geralt huffs. “I tripped over a rock and fell right onto a very pointy root,” he admits.

Jaskier’s lips quirk up into a grin, and Geralt is about to chastise him for laughing when Jaskier directs his attention back to Geralt’s cock.

Geralt gasps as warm heat envelops him, and his hand comes down to tangle in Jaskier’s soft hair. Jaskier’s other hand comes up to stroke the part of Geralt’s shaft not in his mouth and scoots further back to trail his fingertips over Geralt’s balls and ghost over his perineum to his hole.

Geralt shudders at the feeling, and Jaskier pops off of him with a wet sound. “Can I—?”

“Yes, yes, please,” Geralt babbles.

Jaskier disappears for a moment to rummage through his pack, and Geralt tries to slow his pulse. His heart is practically trying to thud out of his chest compared to its normal steady pace, so he sucks in a deep breath through his nose.

Jaskier returns and settles himself between Geralt’s legs. Geralt lets Jaskier position him until his knees are bent and his feet are planted on the bed on either side of Jaskier. Geralt swallows past the lump forming in his throat as a wave of vulnerability crashes down on him.

Jaskier must be able to sense his skittishness, because he takes Geralt’s hand in his and rubs soothing circles into it with his thumb. With his other hand, he rests the pad of his pointer finger against Geralt’s hole until he slips it in, a second finger quickly joining it.

Geralt can feel himself tensing up, but he tries to relax, tries to let himself give in and just be boneless.

Jaskier stretches him out until Geralt whines in anticipation. Jaskier chuckles and pats his clean hand on Geralt’s thigh. “I seem to recall you saying I was the impatient one?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls.

Jaskier laughs again. “Fine, fine. I truly don’t understand why people think you’re so frightening.”

Geralt could list a few reasons, but he doesn’t want to kill the mood. He just grunts at Jaskier until he finally shuffles closer to Geralt and presses inside of him.

Geralt’s head thumps back against the mattress as he squeezes his eyes shut, adjusting to the overwhelming fullness and the way the feeling radiates through his stomach.

Are you good?” Jaskier whispers.

Geralt nods, one of his hands finding Jaskier’s and tangling their fingers together, while the other grips the sheets as Jaskier begins to thrust.

He starts out slow, almost too slow for Geralt to bear, each slide dragging inside of him and creating delicious friction while the head of Jaskier’s cock nudges his prostate.

Geralt hums.

“Let me hear you,” Jaskier says into his ear.

Geralt looks off to the side, but Jaskier puts a finger on his chin and tilts his head back. “You’ve never been shy; don’t start now.”

Geralt stays sullenly even quieter than before, deliberately slowing his breathing.

Jaskier laughs at his obstinance. “No performance review for me?”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” Geralt says breathlessly.

“Who am I to say no to that?” Jaskier asks, and then there’s no more talking for a while, just gasps and moans as Jaskier slams into Geralt at a pace that leaves them both panting.

Finally, Jaskier shudders to his climax and wraps a hand around Geralt’s weeping cock to bring him over the edge with him.

Jaskier slips out of him and collapses onto the bed beside him, draping his leg over Geralt’s thigh, his fingers meandering their way again to the forest of scars that live on Geralt’s skin.

“You’re lovely. Do you believe me yet?”

Geralt gives an unimpressed hum.

“Well, lucky for you, I have the whole rest of my life to make you see reason.”

Geralt likes the sound of that.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ficlet #fanfiction #contemplative writing #5+1 fic

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ikeromantic · 3 years

Text

Loyalties

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic. Approx. 1700 words. Takes place in the romantic epilogue - spoilers!

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Hero's Welcome

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Kyubei kept busy running messages between Mitsuhide and his city contacts, and fetching items for the chatelaine. Though he supposed she didn’t really hold that title now. Now she was . . . well, a princess of the Oda. Soon to be Lady Akechi, if the two lovers had their way.

In all the years he’d served Mitsuhide, Kyubei never saw his lord so at peace. Though he was confined to the manor and still under suspicion - officially - and they had years of work to make the ‘new’ shogun fit, he seemed . . . happy. He spent hours in the garden or in his room with his fiance. And in the halls, the servants could hear their laughter. It was such a change. One Kyubei firmly hoped would continue. But life had taught him that these moments were treasures because they were ephemeral. Sweet because they were rare.

He waited for the axe to fall because it was inevitable.

When trouble finally arrived, it came bearing a box of sweets and an angelic smile.

Kyubei welcomed Ranmaru with a slight bow, and showed him to the chatelaine’s room in Mitsuhide’s manor. Though she spent her nights with his lord, her days she spent here - sewing. This was her passion, and it showed in the quality of her work.

Ranmaru thanked Kyubei, and as the door slid shut, he was already chattering away about his day and the sweets he’d made.

***

Mitsuhide folded and sealed the last of the days missives. He stared at the pile of letters and sighed. As the left hand of Nobunaga Oda, his work was never really done. There would be more reports, more letters, more planning and orders to send . . . and his lands needed him as well. He had projects to authorize and titles to bestow. And all he wanted to do was to curl up beside his little one and remind her how much he loved her with a thousand kisses.

He stood and stretched. This time of day, she was probably in her room working. His little one didn’t know that he already knew about the haori she was making for him. It was her surprise and he wasn’t going to ruin it by admitting he’d seen it, albeit in pieces, already.

As Mitsuhide approached her room, he heard the sound of another voice, high and young and full of forced joy. Ranmaru. He knocked lightly before sliding open the door.

His beloved sat across from the page, a little tray between them. There were sweets and tea. A little wooden box sat open beside her.

“My little mouse, I didn’t know you had a guest.” Mitsuhide smiled at Ranmaru.

The page stood. “I was actually just about to leave. I only came to drop off this gift for the princess.” He gestured to the box of sweets.

“They’re really good,” she picked up a small, colored sweet. “Do you want to try one Mitsuhide?”

Ranmaru pretended a gasp. “My lady! Those are only for you.” He glanced at Mitsuhide out of the corner of his eye. “I made them myself - so you could enjoy them.”

She laughed. “Well then you can’t complain if I share.”

“It’s alright. Such things are wasted on me.” Mitsuhide kept smiling but something in his chest tightened at the glib expression on Ranmaru’s face.

“Well good. I want you to eat them all up! Then I’ll bring you something else next time I try out a new recipe.” Ranmaru tittered.

His glee was grating on Mitsuhide’s nerves. He knew the boy was a spy for the Kennyo and this forceful mask he wore in his role here was bothersome. Still, Mitsuhide had all but promised he wouldn’t out the abbot’s protege. “I’m sure she would like that,” he said, “now, let me walk you out. I want to send a message along to Nobunaga.”

“Bye Ranmaru! I hope you can visit again soon,” the princess called as they left.

Mitushide walked alongside Ranmaru, his mind turning over the facets of this relationship. He wanted the page to stay away but did not want to make an unsubtle threat. This needed a cautious touch.

“She’s a very trusting girl,” Ranmaru said into the silence between them. “She thinks the best of everyone. Even you.”

“And you.” Mitsuhide stopped, looking down at the bright-eyed page. “Why were you really here today?”

Ranmaru smiled wider. “To bring her a gift, as I said. She’s used to accepting things from my hand. She doesn’t even question where it came from. Or what might be in it.”

Mitsuhide felt something in him turn hollow. His mouth curved in a sharp smile. “I see.” He gestured toward the front entry. “Thank you for stopping in. I do hope you have a safe walk back to the castle. Azuchi can be a dangerous place.”

“I’m not worried.” Ranmaru’s fixed grin betrayed nothing. “Didn’t you have a message for Lord Nobunaga?”

“I’ve decided it would be best to speak with him in person.”

Ranmaru shrugged, his smile going a little crooked. Then he turned and left.

Kyubei appeared from a nearby doorway. “Should I . . .”

“No. But I will bring you what remains of these sweets. Check them carefully.”

“Yes my lord.”

Mitsuhide returned to his beloved. She appeared fine. In high spirits after her visitor, even. She didn’t mind it when he sent the remaining goodies to the kitchen, suspecting nothing.

“Do you like Ranmaru very much?”

His little mouse laughed softly. “He’s really sweet. And I think a bit sad. Why? Are you jealous?”

Mitsuhide pulled her into his lap and nipped at her neck. “Mmm, no. I know you are mine. But, do you trust him little mouse?”

She straightened, her expression suddenly serious. “Why? Is there a reason I shouldn’t? Do you know something?”

It was tempting to tell her. Afterall, he’d promised no lies between them. But he’d promised Kennyo that Ranmaru’s secret was safe with him. It seemed he would never be free of conflicting promises and unintentional betrayals. Mitsuhide sighed. “Has he told you anything? Mentioned his past or his friends? His family?”

“No. He doesn’t talk much about himself at all, actually.” She was thoughtful, still in his arms. “I don’t think he would hurt me but . . . I don’t think he likes you very much either.”

Mitsuhide nodded. “I have that impression.”

“So . . . maybe I should find out more about him.” She sighed. “I guess as your wife, I can’t really trust anyone. Well, except maybe Hideyoshi. I don’t think he’d ever do anything underhanded.”

“Not well,” Mitsuhide laughed.

“It’s hard to think about people that way. I want to believe everyone is good.”

Mitsuhide gently combed his fingers through her hair. “I want you to still see the world that way. But please, little one, be careful.”

“I will be.” She smiled and kissed him. Her mouth was sweet and hot and what started as a light kiss deepened quickly between them.

No matter how many times Mitsuhide tasted her, it felt like the first time. New and exciting, forbidden. His desire for her only grew with their time together.

“My lord?” Kyubei called from just outside the closed door.

Mitsuhide reluctantly broke the kiss between them. “Come in.” His little one tried to slide off his lap to sit beside him, but he held her in place. Damned if he was going to let go just because they were interrupted.

“I am sorry to interrupt, my lord. I came to let you know dinner will be late today.” He glanced toward the princess. “I should have left you those candies awhile longer! If you want to eat the rest, the box is in the kitchen.”

His little mouse shrugged. “That’s ok, Kyubei. I’m not that hungry yet. Thank you for dropping in to tell us.”

“Of course, my lady.” Kyubei bowed again. Then he left.

Mitsuhide felt a coil of tension release inside him. Ranmaru might be an enemy by loyalty, but he hadn’t hurt his little one. The conversation between them was a warning. He leaned his head against his little one, inhaling her scent. “I think perhaps we need to get away from the city for a time. Would you like that, little one?”

“Hmm, where would we go? There aren’t any Sengoku resorts or amusement parks.” She laughed. “Where do warlords go on vacation?”

“Vacation? Another word from your time? It means to get away?”

“From work, yes. Like, to take a break away from the place you live.” She relaxed against him.

Mitsuhide considered. “We could visit my lands. You’ve yet to see them. Or, is there some place you want to visit?”

She closed her eyes. “I wish . . . I wish I could show you my home. All my favorite places. There’s a coffee shop by my flat where they make a cat face in the froth and the barista always gives me a free cookie. And a movie theater with the best soda. And I could take you on a roller coaster!” She laughed. “I’d love to see your face on the first hill.”

“I would like that.”

“Yeah. But we can’t.” His little one took a shaky breath. “I can’t regret deciding to stay here with you. I love you more than anything. But I sometimes wish that you could meet my mom and dad. My friends. I wish they could know how happy I am. How lucky. I mean . . .”

Mitsuhide waited for her to continue, but she said nothing for several long breaths. “What is it? What do you mean?” He tilted her chin up so that he could see her face. She was fighting tears.

“It’s just, I don’t want to cry. There’s nothing to cry about.”

“Little one, if you need to cry, then do. You don’t have to pretend in front of me.” He pulled her closer. This sudden sadness surprised him. He’d thought she was as pleased as he.

“They probably think I’m dead. My parents. My friends. Or worse. I wish I could at least tell them I’m ok.” The words came in little gasps as she let her tears out.

Mitsuhide stroked her back. He wished he could do something to cheer her, but this was beyond his abilities. Or was it? The ninja from Echigo - the one from her time - he might know of a way to get a message across at least. It was a long shot, but the kitsune warlord would not let his beloved taste more sorrow than her share. Not if he could help it.

Next: Lunches with Friends

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen ranmaru #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

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pa-panda-heroes · 3 years

Note

Hi! This is chest surgery anon! Im sorry I didn't see your character limit! So sorry! If your requests are open, could I have possibly Dabi, Shigaraki, and Toga? And as for the medical stuff anything is fine with me! You can go all out if ya want! Thank you so much and again so sorry!

Aww, sweetheart!! It’s okay!! I understand <3 a lot of people tend to miss character limits and a while back I didn’t have one, so i take no offense to it! ( ◠‿◠ )b I hope you’re recovering well still~

Dabi, Tomura, and Himiko helping out their s/o who has had chest surgery!

Dabi:

Oof. He understands the struggle of recuperation, hardcore. Because of his staples, stretching too much for Dabi is sometimes agonizing. And replacing the staples into torn skin? Hell itself.

So while he’s not that great at encouragement and would be a nurse with horrible bedside manners, he’d rather do things for you and leave it at that. Dabi can reach out for your phone or your drink, or help you wash your hair if that is a problem for you (he’ll get frisky if you’re well enough, though! He’s a greedy bastard at times).

A lot of his staples he can’t reach, so oftentimes you have to help with that. But now, it’s you that needs help, and he’s kinda relieved in an odd way. It makes him feel less weak, so he’s more than happy - though he won’t admit that - to help change your bandages and keep everything clean and drained out.

He’s a professional at being careful with stitches if there are any, because he has experience from his staples. Bandages, however, are a different story. He has to be really careful not to wrap them too tightly or too loosely, which is hard to do when it’s not your own body.

If you’re stuck with a drainage tube or more (or just regular seepage), he won’t be bothered much by it. After all, he has seen and smelled much worse with his own problems and there’s the burning people alive part. Almost nothing fazes this man.

One concept he doesn’t understand, though, is the whole “it will look worse before it looks better” part. Hold up - you just had surgery, doesn’t that mean it should be, ya know, healing? Why does it look like you got hit with a truck y/n are you dying what tHE FU-

Bruising happens sometimes, Dabi. It’s cool. Swelling means white blood cells are doing their part to repair damaged tissue, higher temperature just means increased blood flow. You have to look up several explanations on the internet before he finally gets it. You’d think he would have experience in this department!

Will 100% secretly whine about it all, though. He’s a massive cuddler behind closed doors, so with your stitches, limited movement, and the likely pain, he’s practically frothing at the mouth to fully cuddle and then some. He knows you can’t help it, though! So he pouts in total silence.

Tomura:

When you tell him you’re gonna need help during your recuperation, he’s totally fine with it. It can’t be that hard, he’ll say. Helping you get dressed? Nah, he’ll be fine. Can’t help cook? That’s fine, he’ll get take-out because he can’t cook for shit. But bandages? Oh.

He’ll be fine, he says. He can do it without looking away, he says. But when it comes to it, Tomura is gone. He’s lost. What the fuck is that? Is that a tube?! Why is it swollen?! Tape is nOT MEANT FOR HUMAN BODIES, Y/N-

You poor thing, you have to teach him how to help out. Removing bandages, cleaning everything with antisceptic, watch out for drainage and note down its color, don’t tug on the stitches, signs of infection - all of it. But at least he’s a good listener! He may not know why he’s doing it, but he knows what he’s doing now, at least.

Tomura won’t be totally clueless to everything. If you’re in pain, he’ll bring out painkillers and something to wash it down with before you can even ask. He’ll also ask if ice or a heating pad is okay. He’s a little clueless, but he’s got the spirit. He’s pretty observant, too.

Tomura will get plenty of pillows to put under your arms if you have to hold them a certain way, too. But they get in the way of his putting his head on your lap, so he’ll get all mopey and just use one of the pillows under your arms. Except he can’t get comfortable because it just isn’t the same, so he’ll constantly adjust his head.

His bedside manners won’t be great, he’ll be gruff when telling you to get better, but you know he means well because he won’t look you in the eye. And because he spoils you with treats like his life depends on it, even though that’s really not the kind of diet you need.

Entirely unfazed if you need help bathing. This, he knows how to do! Unlike Dabi, he won’t get any funny ideas and carries on as if he’s bathing himself. Tomura’s utterly silent most of the time, but it’s not difficult to sprout a whole conversation out of him. It’s really peaceful and serene, and he much prefers it over cleaning out any drainage...

Super gentle, sometimes too gentle. Tomura just worries about hurting you. If you share a bed, he will absolutely refuse to sleep in bed with you and instead opts for the floor next to you. He’s a very active sleeper and he’s afraid he’ll end up whacking you with an arm or something. But then, he has to be close to make sure you’re okay or if you need anything. Hence why he ends up on the floor next to you.

Himiko:

She’s creepily compliant when you ask her to help out during your recuperation. But poor Himiko has no idea what this entails for herself or you. She’s used to creating wounds on other people, not fixing or healing them.

Himiko is average height (for a Japanese woman), so reaching things won’t be a major issue unless you’re much taller and store things up high. ...she’s really good at climbing, though, but if memory serves her, you don’t like it when she does that!

Doesn’t mind blood, swelling, bruising - you name it. The sight, the smell, none of it bothers her at all! In fact, seeing you all banged up and bandaged makes her love you more! It’s like you’re all beaten up and bloodied, and she thrives off of it. She really kinda hates that you’re trying to heal and get better.

Of course, when there’s pain she doesn’t quite care much for that part. You’re not like yourself when you’re hurting so badly, she can tell, and it makes her really nervous and anxious. Himiko gets really quiet and mopey, and even more clingy than she already is.

She’s also pouty because she can’t hang off of you like a sloth off a branch. Himiko is too cuddly for her own good, so on a normal day she’s constantly all over you in any which way. It’s just in her nature. However, if you’re able to reverse the rolls, she’ll be much happier!

Really bad at bandaging. Really bad. She forgets to keep everything clean and what to use, she tends to be rough around the sutures, and she can’t get a bandage to keep in place to save her little butt. There’s tape everywhere when she’s done, and half of it won’t stick. How do people do this for a living?!

She’s not a great nurse. Not really. But she’s definitely a source of entertainment. Himiko talks to herself under her breath a lot, and sometimes she’ll say the funniest things when she’s confused about how to do something. Doesn’t matter if it’s her nurse-ly duties or be it cooking and getting clothes for you.

Himiko won’t really bother looking up medical jargon and what’s needed to help you in that department. It’s not that she doesn’t want you getting better. She just really enjoys having you rely on her even if for a short while! It’s more time you get together after all, and she’s super clingy.

#tw: medical #mha #mha headcannons #mha x reader #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #toga x reader #dabi #shigaraki tomura #toga himiko #take care of yourself!! <3

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colehasapen · 3 years

Text

(ONE SHOT) don’t build hope on something broken STAR WARS

Febuwhump No. 2 - “I can’t take this anymore”

A03

Hidden away from prying eyes, Rex curls around himself, trying to ignore the pain radiating through every part of his body, trying to push away the ache in his head.

He had known what would happen the moment Krell had ordered him to meet with him; he had known that the General hadn’t been pleased that the men had refused to go through with the execution, had known immediately that someone would need to pay for the orders that hadn’t been followed. Rex had gone into the meeting knowing that someone would need to face the General’s ire, and he’d known that as long as it was him , he’d accept any punishment if it meant his men wouldn’t have to, if it meant that Fives and Jesse wouldn’t be killed, wouldn’t need to suffer for their bravery.

He’d gone in, fully prepared for the blows that rained down on him, the poison spewed in his face, because he’d been weathering it since the first moment General Krell had stepped foot on the planet, but they’d gotten more frequent since taking the base. There was less time for Rex to gather himself afterwards, to lick his wounds, because Krell no longer needed to worry about someone stumbling on them, no longer needed to worry about someone seeing the punishments the General rained down on him.

Rex could withstand them, had been withstanding them since he was too little to understand why what he was was wrong. He could take a beating, had been for years. Sure, he hadn’t since the War broke out, but he was accustomed to it, and if it was him, it would mean that none of the others would be hurt. He would take any punishment, if it meant his brothers wouldn’t have to.

General Krell had been furious when Rex had walked in. Had been nearly frothing in rage as he’d paced back and forth, ranting against the troopers that hadn’t followed his orders, a pale-faced and quiet Dogma in the corner of the office, and Rex had been afraid. Terrified that Dogma would be hurt, or had already been hurt, because he’d had no idea how long Dogma had been there while Rex had been trying to keep the men and himself together - in the chaos that had followed Fives and Jesse being confined to the brig, he’d forgotten about Dogma.

What kind of Captain was he if he had forgotten the one brother that was the closest to the General. The one most in harm's way if General Krell lost his temper.

Rex had stood silent, at attention, while the General paced, begging any power out there that the Jedi would send Dogma out, that the young trooper wouldn’t be hurt. He couldn’t fault Dogma for his insistence on following orders, he knows Dogma’s history. He knows what happened to Dogma before coming to the 501st, knows the thin line the younger man walks on, because another failure on Dogma’s record would bring censure. No trooper was sent to a Penal Battalion twice; if he didn’t follow orders to the letters, if a single complaint was filed against him, the best future Dogma would have to look forward to would be death.

He hopes that General Krell didn’t know how tight of a noose was tied around Dogma’s neck.

But there was no power out there that would respond to a clone.

Rex hadn’t made a sound when blows started raining down on him, hadn’t made a sound at the cruel words spat at him. He had kept himself quiet and still, had tried to block out the pain and the cruelty, tried to push away the aborted sounds Dogma was making. He had wanted desperately to assure his brother, to order him not to make a sound, but he hadn’t wanted to draw Krell’s attention to the younger trooper. He would withstand all of it, if it meant his brothers wouldn’t have to.

When Krell’s anger had finally run its course, he had left Rex there, limp on the ground, breathing through the pain in his lungs, coughing on the blood in his mouth, trying not to let anything show because Dogma was still there. Dogma is still in the room, rooted to the spot where he had been the whole time, shivering and breath shuttering, and Rex wants to comfort him, to pull him close until his tears run dry, but he hurts too much to move.

He doesn’t know how much more he can take.

Rex groans, then flinches when hands land on him, expecting a blow that never comes, mind spiralling into beatings and pain and never being good enough, and for a moment, Rex is CT-7567 again, scared and alone and beaten down until his will to go on broke. There’s no Cody here, no Alpha-17 to drag him out and protect him. There’s no Fordo and no Keeli; it’s only Rex, trapped in his own mind, chained by the agony of beatings.

It’s only Rex, and Dogma. Dogma who is gripping his shoulder, who is no longer trapped in the corner of the office, and who is staring at Rex with wide amber eyes, his face chalky. Dogma who saw everything.

Shame threatens to drown him, just as much as the blood caught in his throat. It bubbles up like acid, burning and hot inside of him, and Rex gets barely a moment of warning before he’d jerking away from his subordinate to retch onto the floor instead of Dogma’s armour.

Rex coughs, eyes watering, as bile flecked with blood dribbles past his chapped lips. His chest aches somewhere deep, something shifts, and Rex feels broken in more ways than one. “I can’t take this anymore.” He’s barely even aware of speaking out loud, his voice shattered, barely more than a whisper, but they hang in the air like a sword above his neck, threatening to drop if he lets himself fall apart.

Dogma’s voice wavers, thick with unshed tears and shaking with stress, “Captain?”

“‘M sorry.” Rex whispers, fumbling blindly for the kid’s hand, and when he finds it, he squeezes with as much comfort as he can offer. “I’m sorry - you shouldn’t have seen that.”

Dogma’s face, still round with youth but sharp from the lack of food they’d all been suffering from, swims into his blurry vision. Force, he was still a kid, not even fully grown and he was already out on the battlefield, a death sentence hanging around his neck if he so much as stepped out of line once. Rex had tried desperately to protect all his vod’ike, but Umbara had shown him how much of a failure he was.

He couldn’t keep any of them safe.

“Captain - are you -” he stumbles over his words, shaking like a leaf in the winds, “- how bad are you hurt?”

Rex lets out a pained breath between his teeth, pushing himself onto his knees so he wasn’t slumped near his own sick any longer, “I’ll live.” He sways slightly, bumping shoulders with the young trooper as he curls a hand loosely across the back of the kid’s neck, shoring up his own bravado. “I’ve had worse.”

“Sir -” Dogma’s voice breaks, quivers, sounding young and lost, “- the General - he - he beat you.”

“Yeah.” The Captain hisses, casting his eyes for where he had dropped his helmet. He’s glad that Krell had confined the blows to his torso, where his armour could absorb the worst of the attacks; he wouldn’t have to waste bacta on his face this time, luckily, because they didn’t have the bacta to spare on keeping his dirty little secret hidden.

“Sir, you need Kix.”

Rex jolts, “No.” His words tilt towards his captain-voice, carrying a desperate order. Kix couldn’t know - no one could. There was too much at stake; Rex knows that if Kix knew what Krell was doing to him, nothing would stop his usually soft-spoken medic from confronting the General, and Rex has enough nightmares of the green glow of a lightsaber reflected in Fives’ eyes to let anyone else be risked. “No, Kix can’t know.”

“Captain, please.” Dogma begs, gripping desperately at him, “You’re hurt!”

“Don’t make me make it an order, trooper.”

The private flinches back, eyes widening, before his expression shutters once more, falling into the mask of a perfect soldier, but the redness of his eyes betrays his true thoughts. Rex hates it, he wishes he could take those words back, but this is his burden to bear.

“Yes sir.”

There’s too much at stake.

Taglist: @a-mediocre-succulent @yellowisharo @spoofymcgee @roseofalderaan @everything-or-anything @bellablue42

#cole writes #febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday2 #captain rex #clone trooper dogma #pong krell #abuse #physical abuse #umbara arc #whump #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #swtcw fanfiction

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xxkellsvixen19xx · 3 years

Text

Spotlight: Life Of A Troubled Celebrity Heartthrob Ch 4

Word Count: 4,140

Colson had temporarily moved Y/N's Mom to his house in Cleveland. He was staying in New York because he had some business to take care of. He told Y/N that he would send for her on Friday morning because they had to attend a charity dinner together later that day. Melissa would have to take her shopping as usual and she was looking forward to it. Afterwards she would be meeting up with Liv and Lisa for lunch.

"So tell me about this thing you have with Colson?" Mrs Y/M/L/N patted the seat beside her and Y/N sat down.

"It's nothing Mom. I'm just helping him out." Y/N said eyeing her shoes.

"Is that all?" She pressed gently.

"I don't feel comfortable discussing this with you? Can we not do this? It's awkward. " Y/N frowned. They never had an open relationship where they could talk about everything and anything. She only had that kind of relationship with her Dad-but he was gone.

"Look Mom, I know you're trying but I need more time..but just know that Colson and I are not together. We have a great friendship and I don't expect anything more."

"But you like him or he likes you?" She squeezed Y/N's hand.

"Yes-no-look I don't know." She sighed as she stood up.

"Just be careful honey. Don't get your hopes up. Don't get me wrong-" She raised her hands, "I'm just concerned okay? Guys like Colson.."

"I know, I know." She mumbled. "You don't need to say it."

Jax came and stood at the door, interrupting the conversation.

"Good morning, Miss and Mrs Y/L/N." He bowed slightly.

"Hi Jax." Y/N smiled at him.

"Listen honey, I had forgotten that I have to attend a conference this weekend. I will be leaving tomorrow, so can we talk some more before I leave?" She asked, hopeful.

"I'll be waiting in the car." Jax announced and left them alone.

"Yeah, sure. Maybe when I get back okay? I'll probably be gone when you get back anyway." They embraced and Y/N left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Slim, get in here." Colson said over the intercom. He was in his New York office and trying to think of ways to spend more time with Y/N, without being too obvious.

"Hey Col! What's up man?" Slim bounced into the office and threw himself on the corner coach.

"Are you and Kinky free tonight?" Colson asked as he typed something on his iMac.

"Yeah, Sommer and I have plans..why? Wanna join in? Tired of being a pro-golfer whenever you sleep with Bambi? " He cackled as he smacked his knee.

"There's more to relationships than sex dude." Colson scoffed, still staring at the computer screen.

"Ahhh..so you're admitting that you're in a relationship are you??" He nodded slowly.

"Shut up." Colson responded.

"You're too uptight this morning..maybe you need a hit?" Slim dug his hand in his pocket and produced a tiny vile of cocaine to Colson that he had tried to stay away from for five straight days now. He looked away and felt his resolve slipping away.

"C'mon..you know you wanna." Slim coaxed him as he dangled it in front of Colson's face.

"Set it up while I lock the door." Colson said, as he sighed in defeat. He convinced himself that this would be the last time. After this he wouldn't go anywhere near drugs-including his sleeping pills. Besides it wasn't going to hurt anyone..was it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Colson woke up and found himself on the floor in his office. Slim was passed out a few feet away from him. He didn't remember how he got there though. There was a soft, incessant tap on his door and his body felt so heavy, he could barely lift his head. The knock continued and it became rather irritating.

"Go away!" He groaned with the little energy he could muster.

"Colson, it's Byron here. We had a meeting with that film producer remember?? A verry important meeting. We need to leave now or we won't be able to make it." Silence.

"Colson?" Byron sighed and shook his head as he walked away from the door.

He knew that he had to try and re-schedule. Whenever Colson and Slim got together they got high. Byron had been standing knocking at the door for more than an hour. Unfortunately Colson's office was sound proof and there were no glass walls or windows to peer through. Numerous times Byron had tried to get them to counselling or rehab but they always brushed him off. It was all in the name of fun they assured him but this was becoming a problem that would affect Colson's career. He had already been arrested and he was still trying to do damage control. This couldn't go on, it had to stop.

"Y/N, Byron here. Hope you're good." He smiled into the phone. "Sorry to drop this on you but-I need you to come to New York earlier than planned-like today."

Colson dragged himself off the floor and staggered towards the bathroom. The drugs were wearing off but he was feeling the after effects now. The coke was much stronger than before, he was totally knocked out. A cold shower usually sobered him up a bit and he needed to pull himself together. He had a stool in his shower for such instances and he pushed it against the wall then fell onto it as he opened the cold water tap to maximum. He stripped his soaking clothes off as he began to feel better, then he adjusted the water to luke-warm.

"Why? Why? Why?" He screamed at himself as he pulled on his hair.

The guilt came at him like a flood and it brought along its cousins. Tears coursed down his face and mingled with the water and he let them flow. Why couldn't he stop? He wanted to but he just couldn't bring himself to break the addiction, especially when he was surrounded by it. It seemed like everyone in the entertainment industry was hooked on drugs, sex and alcohol. It was proving to be difficult to stop altogether because he had no other means of escape. At least when he was high he could forget-even for a short moment-he could slip into oblivion and escape from it all; the pressure, the high expectations, the fake people that constantly surrounded him.

Although he always had people around him he always felt so alone. Nobody loved him. His grandparents were senile and didn't remember who he was half the time. So he was totally alone in this world. Everyone just wanted a piece of him for selfish reasons. No one showed any genuine interest in him without a hidden motive. Well, until Y/N..

He smiled as he thought about her while he dried his hair. His heart swelled and his stomach muscles constricted. He missed her dearly, more than he cared to admit. Maybe he would send for her earlier than planned or he would fly to Cleveland and fetch her himself. Yes, that's exactly what he would do he thought with a renewed purpose. He walked into his closet and got dressed quickly and went to check on Slim.

Slim was still passed out on the floor and it was beginning to bother Colson. He bent over him and shook him but he didn't budge. What was even more worrying is that that he was frothing at the mouth and his nose was bleeding.

"Byron! Get here now!" Colson shouted into his cellphone. He unlocked the door and waited anxiously for Byron to come.

"I'm here. What's-" He froze as he took in the sight in front of him. "We need to get him to the hospital. Get out of here, I'll handle this." He locked the office door again.

"But I can't just leave-" Colson protested.

"Go! You know the drill Colson. You can't be seen here okay just leave through the secret passageway. Now!" He pushed Colson towards the private exit point. "I'll call you." He said before closing the door.

Colson made a run for it and found a car waiting for him.

"Bro, please take me to the hanger I need to fly to Cleveland as soon as possible. Call the pilot and ask him to get clearance or whatever." He instructed the driver.

"Sure thing Colson." The driver replied.

He bounced his knee and bit on his nails, something he always did when he was super-stressed. What if Slim didn't make it? How would he live with himself? He promised himself that if Slim survived then he would never-

"Yes." He snapped as he answered the phone.

"It's handled. Slim has been taken to a private hospital so he's in good hands." Byron said calmly.

"Great." He breathed a sigh of relief. "Listen we'll have to meet in Norway-I'm going to Cleveland. Can you check if the jet is cleared?" Colson gripped the phone until his knuckles turned white.

"Yes. I had it done earlier, had a feeling you might want to go." Byron said. His instincts were right after all.

"Thanks..for everything." Colson said.

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

"Hey."

"Colson?" Y/N tucked the phone between her ear and her shoulder. Liv and Lisa squealed in delight. She had met them for lunch.

"Guess what? I'm in Cleveland!" He said trying to sound dramatic.

"Oh..I thought I was supposed to come there this evening?" She put down her cutlery and held her phone.

"Yeah, but there was a slight change of plans..You don't want to see me?"

"No, of course I do. I-I'm glad to know-that you're here?" She said flustered. Her appetite was long gone by now and she grabbed a glass of wine and gulped it down. Did he fly all the way down here especially for her or he was here for another reason? Lisa and Liv had stopped eating and they were staring at her.

"You're still there sweets?" He asked.

"Yeah..so where are you?"

"I just jetted in. Was hopping I could join you for lunch?" He pressed gently.

"Yeah of course..I-we're at The Capital Grille on Superior Avenue. I'm sure you can find it?" She replied, avoiding looking at her friends. Their faces lit up with excitement at they shamelessly listened in to the conversation.

"See you in a bit sweets."

"Hold the phone! He's coming here isn't he?" Liv exclaimed, not knowing what to do with herself.

"Yes. You do know that it's rude to listen in to someone else's conversation?" Y/N said as she gulped down a glass of water.

"So should we go? Should we stay?" Lisa added, her eyes shining.

"Let's go to the bathroom and regroup shall we?" Liv suggested. "Besides your face needs a bit of work babe. You look like you were running a marathon." She threw her napkin on the table and held out her hand to Y/N as they stood up.

"I'll stay." Lisa offered. "Just in case-you know?"She shrugged and tossed her hair back.

"You know this isn't necessary." Y/N protested as Liv powdered her face. "He has seen me without make-up and probably knows what my morning breath smells like..so.."

"Overshare alert." Liv rolled her eyes. "He must really like you, you know?"

"What makes you think that?" Y/N frowned at her reflection in the mirror.

"Well..you've slept in the same bed on many occasions and he didn't try to take things further. I mean who does that? He's Colson Baker! He could have had you just by blinking in your direction but he hasn't." She observed.

"I know right? But what if it's an angle? All part of his game?" She voiced her thoughts.

"Sweetheart, this is Colson-freakin-Baker. what could he possibly gain from having sex with a college student? If I was in your shoes I would have been all over that hot bod! You're wasting a perfectly good dish.. Just let me at him!" Liv clawed the air and they burst into laughter.

They had just settled at the table when Y/N's phone rang again.

"Hey sweets. I'm parked outside. I can't come in because I don't have any guards with me and I don't want to cause a commotion. So do you and your friends mind if we go some where else?"

"Okay sure." Y/N said.

"Great. I'll pick you up at the front entrance." He replied.

"Hey, listen..Colson wants us to meet him out front like now-so let's go." Y/N stood and hurried her friends along.

Colson pulled up in his black matte Aston Martin DB11, looking hotter than the sun. He was dressed in full white, shorts and a white v-neck t-shirt and completed the look with his Ray Ban police sunglasses, his hair messier than usual because the drop-top was down. They all jumped in with squeals of delight from Liv and Lisa.

"Oh my days!! I'm in Colson Baker's car!" Lisa kept saying over and over again. She sounded like a scratched record.

"Careful there, you might just inspire me to write a new song." Colson laughed.

"Hi! By the way I'm Lisa and this is Liv. Oh my days! I still can't believe I'm-Ahhh!" Lisa screamed like a typical groupie. Liv just sat with her hands on her head chanting "Oh my gosh." repeatedly.

"Interesting friends you got there Bambi." He stole a glance as he fixed his eyes back on the road. Gosh, he had missed her. " You miss me much? Or I didn't stay away long enough??" Colson threw a smile at Y/N.

"You should have stayed away a little longer Baker." She smiled at him. She had missed him but she was never going to tell him that. Her heart was racing just by being so close to him and her stomach was in knots. She had it bad. This was more than a crush.

"Aww you two are so sweet!" Lisa gushed.

"I know right?" Colson winked at Y/N.

"So where to?" Y/N asked.

"We are going to leave your friends at the mall to do a bit of shopping on me of course- because-they will be coming to spend the weekend with us in New York." Lisa and Liv let out loud screams and it was difficult to contain them after that. They started talking in excited whispers at the back.

"And then we are going to spend some QT alone..seeing as you my bae and all that." He squeezed her hand. He played it down. He really wanted-no he needed to be alone with Y/N right now. She had this calming effect on him and he needed that right now. He just wanted to enjoy this time with her and just forget about everything and everyone else.

"Oh, sounds good." She said. Did he really want to spend time alone with her or it was just to appease the media? Either way she didn't mind the logic behind it, she would milk it for everything it was worth.

"You don't have to if you don't want to. I just thought the press would be curious as to why we hardly make public appearances." He lied but it caused untold damage to Y/N's heart.

"Yeah. I understand." She said with a smug smile.

"But don't get me wrong I don't mind. In case you didn't notice, I kinda enjoy your company sweets." He lifted their joined hands and kissed hers.

"Did you see that?!!" Liv exclaimed to Lisa as she pointed to the front..

"You ain't seen nothing yet babe." Colson chuckled as he turned up the music.

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

Colson drove his car into an estate located within a forest and by a lakeside. It was a private wooded lot with it's very own well maintained pond. The house was stunning, a two-story home which stretched for miles and a serene lake shore which was sure to take your breath away.

"In case you're wondering..this is my childhood home. No one lives here besides the hired help of course." He said as he pulled into the garage and turned of the ignition. "I usually come here to de-stress. Thought you might like it. Let's go inside." He held the door open for Y/N and she stepped out.

"It's beautiful." She sighed. "So is this like your happy place?" She asked, her face full of mischief.

"Bambi-you are my happy place." He turned and held her face.

"Oh." Her cheeks reddened.

"You look so cute when you blush" He laughed softly. Come on, there's something that I need to show you." He tugged her hand and led her to the back of the house. They came to the top of a hill and just at the bottom was an encased tree house. The only way to get there was by sliding through a tunnel.

"Baker are you a fan of Alice in Wonderland?" Y/N grinned at him.

"Not me but my Mom was. We would sit here together for hours you know. Reading, playing board games or we would have a picnic. Actually..she kind of inspired my plans today." He pulled her towards the tunnel and he slid through and she did the same.

"So how do we get out of here?" She looked around, confused.

"Aahhh..You will just have to wait and see." He said in a mysterious voice as he gently tapped the tip of her nose with his finger. "Welcome to my magical world." They stepped inside and she twirled around, taking everything in. This tree house was way too fancy to be called that. It was more like a luxurious cabin in the woods. There was a plush Persian rug on the floor and a worn L-shaped brown leather couch, with a large wall-mounted flat screen TV, a small bathroom and open-plan kitchen. There was a separate door that led to the bedroom which contained a comfortable queen-size bed.

"FYI..this is not a tree-house." Y/N said and Colson laughed.

"Go big or go home right?" He threw himself on the couch and switched on the TV.

"So are we going to sit around and watch TV all day?" Y/N asked as she sat next to him.

"And what would you rather we do sweets?" The look he gave her made her blush because it clearly stated his intentions.

"I would rather-explore." She blurted out and her hands flew to her mouth.

"You walked straight into that one didn't you?" Colson gasped as he held his stomach.

"Not funny Baker." She folded her arms and pretended to sulk.

"I'm sorry but that-" He laughed "was epic Bambi."

"You know what I meant but as usual you twisted it in your perverted mind."

"You know what I'd like to do right now?" His face grew serious and he inched towards her.

"No." She knew exactly what he wanted but she wanted to hear him say it. His face was a whisper away from hers and she could feel his warm breath caress her face. She kept reminding herself to breath otherwise she was going to pass out. He stared deep into her eyes, trying to read her expression before pulling away suddenly.

"Let's play a little game?" He cleared his throat and walked over to the TV and the remote. "You're in?"

"Yeah." She pushed back her hair and shifted in her seat.

"We're going to play our own version of Karaoke." He scrolled down the screen and connected to the YouTube homepage. "You know that music speaks right? So we going to choose songs that speak to each other. Got it?"

"I'm not sure I do.." She frowned.

"Look sweets-you and I have chemistry. There's no denying that right?" He tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes.

"Correct."

"So..we're having a problem communicating our feelings to each other right?"

"Yes but I can't sing." She bit her bottom lip.

"Who cares? You're not here for an audition sweets." He brushed her off. "This is the best way for us to tell the other person what we're feeling or thinking. By choosing a specific song and singing it-word for word. Don't worry it won't be so bad. I'll go first." He selected his song and she smiled.

"Interesting choice."

"Dance with me." He pulled her close and sang the song to her, meaning every word and she knew it. This wasn't an act. This was exactly how he felt. She was thinking how she was going to top this.

𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍, 𝒐𝒉-𝒐𝒉-𝒐𝒉-𝒐𝒉, 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑰 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝑺𝒂𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖),

𝑰 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒉 𝑰 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍, 𝒐𝒉-𝒐𝒉-𝒐𝒉-𝒐𝒉, 𝑰 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖), 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖

'𝑪𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔

𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 (𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆)

𝒀𝒆𝒂𝒉, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑰 𝒔𝒊𝒏

𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒇 𝒘𝒆'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔

𝒀𝒆𝒂𝒉, 𝒊𝒇 𝒘𝒆'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔

(Credit Angel by The Weeknd)

"Your turn." He handed her the remote and she thought of the perfect song.

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝑰𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈

𝑵𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒐 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑰'𝒎 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒆

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔

𝑰 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏

𝑶𝒉, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆 '𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰'𝒎 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒆

(Credit Gravity by Sarah Bareilles)

He looked at her with such passion in his eyes as she sang, his arms circled her waist and brought her closer until they were chest to chest. All he wanted to do was feel her soft cherry lips on his and he hoped she wouldn't turn away.

"I'm going to kiss you now." He simply stated before his lips came crushing down on hers. He kissed her possessively until she was limp in his arms.

"I've been dying to do that all day," He smiled into her lips and kissed her one more time.

"What took you so long." She panted and placed her hands on his chest.

"That's what I've been asking myself." He laughed, his blue eyes shining. "Let's get out of here before I take you right here and right now." She gasped and he laughed.

He took her through a trap door that led to another tunnel that went straight to the dock.

"Would you like to go on a boat ride or do you get seasick?" He asked as they stood on the gangplank.

"Let's go!" She pulled him towards the speed boat.

"Alright, alright." He untied the boat and help her get in. She stood beside him as they took off, her head resting on his shoulder.

"We're just in time to watch the sunset." He pointed to the orange horizon. "The best way to take it in is if we relax in the cockpit." He turned of the engine and allowed the boat to float. Fortunately the boat had a dual console deck and the lounge area had comfortable u-shape leather seats, where could lie down or sit with your feet up.

Colson lay with Y/N in silence, her head on his shoulder as they watched the sunset.

"I have one last song to play for you." He slipped a pair of blue-tooth headphones over her head and put his on afterwards. She snuggled close to him and they were face to face as he sang the song to her.

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏

𝑵𝒐 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒑 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒎𝒆 (𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖?)

𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍?

𝑨𝒎 𝑰 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒆?

𝑰 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰'𝒎 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝑴𝒚 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒔 (𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖?)

𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑰𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆

(Credit Sweet Surrender by Sarah McLaughlin)

She smiled at him and he caressed he cheek. No one had ever sang to her before-like this. She didn't know how to feel or how to react. Her heart wanted to burst out of her chest. How could she not fall in love with this person when he did such things to her. Little things meant a lot to Y/N. Such small gestures hooked her and reeled her in.

She was a goner-she thought to herself before falling asleep on Colson's broad chest.

Tagged: @kellysimagines

#machine gun kelly #colson baker #mgk #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #colson baker x reader #colson baker imagine #fan fiction

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