#but like between my already racing thoughts and the LOUD noises my sleep routine for the night is f u c k e d
Text
semi-charming • bill denbrough
(bill denbrough x reader smut)
requested: Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :) + AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH + don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝
i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj
also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh !!!!!!!!!
warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au,
(losers + reader are 19+.)
4.1k words
♡
the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional.
it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that.
but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake.
a loud thump made you jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise.
it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely two minutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door.
your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes.
three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room. his sweaty bare abdomen made your eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.
"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either.
“so what is your fucking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raised his brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, cocky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music."
you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknight and you had class in the morning, "wh- what, no- i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a fucking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off."
then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, started laughing. the other one laughed too, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation.
"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding.
"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give.
"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in."
your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it.
"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to fucking hit him.
you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped, sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?"
you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms.
but a deep voice grunting 'ow, fuck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're reminded that you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?"
that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so cocky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person.
but as bad as the first two experiences were, the third time you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst.
your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg.
you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.
it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall.
but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!"
his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him.
"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either.
"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts.
he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet.
"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack."
he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all fucking night if you aren't strong enough to move this shit?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf.
he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot.
you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you.
he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip.
it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane.
"y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says that on my door." you say breathlessly.
whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth.
he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away.
you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid.
his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh.
you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being fucked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from.
when he finally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg. "mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done."
"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated."
you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly.
he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen. it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're just horny.
"i thought you were cute, you know, until you showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised, "i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch." his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back. you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point, "i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are, i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk.
"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out.
"because i kind of want to fuck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to fuck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you.
you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed cock as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you.
then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasure it gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own.
"fuck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving?
he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants.
he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly. you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes.
"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down.
he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate.
he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against your mattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how fucking beautiful bill is hitting you at once.
you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tits, pinching your nipple as you grind down against his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his pants against your clothed clit. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb making contact with your clit takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure.
"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.
"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?"
you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "fuck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's fucking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to."
you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his cock.
and then you’re pushing aside your panties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick fucking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back.
“shit, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly.
he looks like fucking heaven.
you kiss his neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.
“fuck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily. he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.
"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you fuck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd fuck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging. and your hand rises to squeeze around his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan.
his smirk sends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling in your core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.
you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep. “i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums.
your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.
your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out.
he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. then his thumb snakes its way to your lips, his grin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce.
"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his cock warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his cock, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building.
"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundly before pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his cock before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours.
your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.
"you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to.
you watch as his eyes admire the half-lids of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already.
he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your cunt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple.
you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum. then his thumb rubs circles on your clit and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “fuck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his cock in bliss, your orgasm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says cockily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours.
“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close.
"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters.
you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, fuck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he cums, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name. he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall.
"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous.
"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease.
you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him.
tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie @decafcoffeew
681 notes
·
View notes
Text
Newlyweds Part 2 (Uhtred x Reader)
Newlyweds
Part 2
Uhtred x Reader
Warnings: fight, blood, death
Y/N finds her place in her new home, and she is ready to protect it.
You have freedom. You have choices. You always imagined your life would be torture after the wedding, doesn’t matter who your husband is. But it’s not the case. You have a routine, and Uhtred gives you more tasks as you get more comfortable in your new home. You go to practices after breakfast, and you do your chores before dinner, where your husband always joins you if he can. He is different than you imagined. Of course, he has rules for you, but it’s mostly about your protection. He gives you new clothes and weapons, he doesn’t make fun of your faith, and he listens to you. He lets you make friends doesn’t matter if it’s a nun, a warrior, or a trader. He tells you about his day and his past and his plans for the future, and he asks you about your thoughts. The only thing that is missing is intimacy. He teases you without mercy, and you are braver and braver every day, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to make the first step.
You smile at the others when you step into the Great Hall. They are already at the table, eating.
“Good evening, Lady,” Finan greets you as you sit down next to your husband.
“How was your day?” You ask him, looking around the table.
You got used to their almost constant presence. You have discovered it early enough, Finan, Sihtric, and Osferth are always near their Lord, and you find their company pleasant. They are loud and funny, and they are always ready to help you despite their mocking during your fighting practice.
“We have to leave for a few days,” Uhtred tells you between two bites. He watches your reaction to his words and smirks when he sees the worry on you.
“Why?” You ask him. “Thank you,” you add to the servant girl who gives you a plate full of food.
Maybe your biggest surprise about Uhtred was his behavior toward the servants. He is respectful and kind to them, he makes sure they have everything they need. You heard about his past as a slave, and you understand his reasons. Of course, you don’t have a problem with it. You are not cruel and bossy. You got to know the few women who help you around the house since you are here. They come from different families and circumstances, and they became good friends to you.
“We spotted a few Danes around the village,” Uhtred answers. “It’s probably nothing, but we want to make sure of it.”
“When do you live?”
“Tomorrow morning,” he answers. “I will be gone when you wake up.”
You nod at his words and try to suppress your worry, hearing the news. You stare at your plate deep in thoughts, so you don’t see their gaze and smile.
You weren’t the only one who was worried about the marriage. The men didn’t know you, they didn’t know what to expect from you, and you were a pleasant surprise as you got comfortable around them. You are kind, and you understand their jokes, and you are not afraid to get your hands dirty. Uhtred probably would go mad if you would spend your days praying to your God.
After dinner, Uhtred goes to make sure everything is ready for tomorrow, and when he arrives home, you are already in bed.
“Are you okay?” He asks you as he changes his clothes. You are so deep in your thoughts you don’t even argue about his nonexistent modesty.
“You will be safe, right?” You ask him after a while when he lays down beside you. You still sit, leaning on the headrest as you look down on him.
“Don’t worry about it,” he tries to calm you, but he avoids answering your question. He moves closer to you, leaning on his elbow, and with his other hand, he starts to massage your arm. “It’s just a fast patrol. It happens often.”
“Okay,” you nod, but even you can hear the worry in your voice.
“And you will have more things to do while I’m away,” he says.
You caress his cheek softly till he kisses your palm and pushes himself up to kiss you. His lips are warm and gentle, and your lungs burn without oxygen.
“We need to sleep,” he says after he breaks the contact, and you nod, staring at his eyes.
Your limbs go numb as you force yourself not to move. Uhtred needs his sleep for tomorrow. It’s not the right time to give in to your desires.
When Uhtred wakes up, he finds your side empty and cold. He changes his clothes, hearing laughs and voices from the Hall as he moves out of the bedroom.
He looks shocked, seeing the small crowd around the table. His warriors sit at the table, enjoying the breakfast you and the other women prepared for them before the small journey.
“Sit down and eat,” you order him softly, pushing on his shoulder blade. He wants to ask you what you are doing, but before he can voice his question, he sits at his usual spot next to Finan, and you disappear behind the kitchen’s doors.
“Your Lady wanted to make sure we are well fed before we get going,” The Irishman answers to his confused face.
“If you ever divorce, my Lord,” One of his warriors continues, smiling. “Let us a chance to woo her.”
The others laugh at his words, but they nod in agreement.
After the crowd noisiness, the Hall seems too quiet when Uhtred stays back with you for a few minutes.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, smiling. He hugs your waist, pulling you closer to him.
“Don’t care about it,” you shake your head, placing your hands on his shoulders. “Just take care of yourselves.”
“Will do,” he nods, pecking your lips.
After they are gone, you continue your routine around the village. You practice with the remained warriors and negotiate with the arriving traders before you go to the church.
When you step into the small building, Hild is already here, waiting for you.
The woman became a great friend of yours. She helped you get over your fears and gave you advice about Uhtred and the fighting. She told you about her journey with the Dane Lord and her way back to God. She is funny and fierce, and after she made sure you are good for his friend and Coccham, she supported you in almost everything.
You laugh at something she said when somebody burst into the Church. You jump at the booming noise, looking back at the intruder.
“What happened?” You ask him when you see his panicked expression. His breath is rapid, and his voice is hasty as he answers.
“We're being attacked,” he says. “The Danes attacked the city.”
At the first moment, the shock freezes your whole body. You stare at the warrior unblinkingly and breathlessly. And then, before you can come to your senses, you already start to make orders.
“Go and gather the people who can’t fight,” you tell him. “Tell them they have to come here.”
The man nods at your words and runs out of the building while you turn to Hild.
“Do you have weapons here?” You ask her, and when she nods, you continue. “Stay here, help the others who arrive. If everything goes wrong, go to the forest and hide.”
“What will you do?” She asks, grabbing your wrist before you can move.
“I stay and fight,” you answer. Your voice is trembling from fear, but you know it’s your duty to protect your home and those who live in it. You are not a warrior, and you still have a lot to learn, but you don’t have time to lament on it.
You run out of the building to go home, ordering the servants to hide in the church while you grab your weapons and shield. The sword feels heavy on your shaking hand, and you just step out of the Great Hall when you have to lift the shield in front of your face to fend yourself from somebody. Your frozen body, racing heart, and thoughts come to stop as you find yourself in the center of the fight.
You have to be present and ready for everything. Your sword and dress become bloody as you recall everything you learned. Your moves are clumsy but enough to kill the enemy, and your shoulder hurts as you keep the shield in front of you. The shouts and screams push everything else out of your mind.
“Lady,” somebody yells for you, and soon you notice Clapa tower over you, killing somebody who was ready to strike you. “You should be in the Church,” he yells.
“I’m fine,” you argue, swinging your weapon at the Dane, running to you.
You are just a beginner compared to the real warriors around you. You are sweaty and bloody and start to panic when you notice Clapa disappearance however you can still hear his booming voice.
In the back of your mind, you pray to God to be with you until your husband arrives.
Your whole body is in pain as the fight ends. There are dead bodies everywhere. Some of them are familiar, but for your greatest pleasure, you see more Dane lying in the dirt. Your arms are numb, and your muscles ache. You can’t feel the pain from your injuries because of the adrenaline.
“Y/N,” You hear your name shouted, and you turn around to see the source.
As you notice Uhtred running to you, the burning of your lungs starts to ease as you take a deep breath. You let the numbness take over your body as you let the shield and sword falling onto the ground when Uhtred reaches you and hugs you to his body. His arms shield you from the world, his breath fans your neck, and you don’t understand, but you feel his murmurs on your skin.
“Did they hurt you?” He asks you, stepping back to look over your body.
“I-I don’t know,” you answer slowly. Everything you are done crushing down on you, but the only thing you can focus on is Uhtred's worried face.
“We didn’t know about their plan,” he explains. “We come back as fast as we could.”
“Y/N, come with me, we have to take care of you,” Hild steps next to you, but you shake your head.
“I’m fine,” you murmur. “Take care of the others.”
“Y/N…” The nun starts to argue, but you don’t let her. You grab Uhtred’s arm like your life depends on it.
“Please. I’m fine,” you repeat your words.
“I will take care of her,” Uhtred says, placing his hand on your waist, and Hild nods, continuing her way to the others who may need help.
“Are you sure you are okay?”
His eyes seem grey as he stares down on you, reaching to your dirty cheek with his other hand. His touch is gentle and warm, and you sigh at the feeling. Your heartbeat starts to calm down. It doesn’t want to break out of your chest anymore.
“Yes, I just need a moment,” you answer quietly, moving closer to his body. He pets down on your shoulders and back, waiting for you to collect yourself.
“Lady?” Finan asks you worriedly. “Is she okay?” He asks his Lord when you don’t react.
“She is,” he nods, hugging you closer to himself. “Look for survivors, we need to ask them out later.”
“Yes, Lord,” Finan answers and runs away to do as he told.
“I need to help the wounded,” you sigh, stepping out of your husband’s hold. “We will meet at the Great Hall.”
“Are you sure?” He asks you. You still seem too confused and quiet from the aftershock.
“Yes,” you smile at him softly. “Just… just don’t go far.”
Under different circumstances, you would cling to him for support and protection, but this is not the right time. He has things to do, and you have to make yourself useful for the others who still need help.
“Just shout my name, and I come,” he promises, kissing your forehead.
As you make yourself useful, you have time to think about what happened. New details flash before your eyes from the fight. Big men with swords and bloody smiles. A hit on your side and a cut on your leg. Clapa as he strikes down with his weapon to save you from a stranger. Your knees start to pulsate, remembering your fall. The screams of your name and the threats about upcoming deaths and decay. You remember the feeling as your sword found someone’s neck. Their warm blood splattered on your neck and face.
“Go home now, Y/N,” Hild says to you, grabbing your arm. “We got this,” she nods to the others.
“Okay,” you nod, still dizzy.
“Sihtric,” The nun calls for the Dane who steps next to the woman. “Escort her home.”
“Sure,” Sihtric nods, linking your arm with his to support you. “Are you okay, Lady?”
“I will be, thank you,” you smile at him reassuringly. Your injuries nothing compared to the others. They shouldn’t worry about you.
“It’s okay to feel like this,” he says. “The first fight is always shocking. You will come through it.”
“Thank you,” you repeat it. “And how are you?” You ask him more concerned, looking over him for injuries. The Dane is still bloody and dirty, but he seems fine.
“I’m good, Lady,” he smiles. “And I will be better after I bathe and eat.”
“I don’t want to waste your time,” you tell him. “Go home.”
“But…” he starts, looking at the Great Hall.
“I will be fine,” you shake your head. “I know where I have to go,” you smile to convince him.
“As you wish, Lady,” he nods.
“Have a… better night, Sihtric.”
298 notes
·
View notes
Note
Please write one were Asher has an allergic reaction and Sirius and Remus freak
Um so hi, surprise. I finally wrote something again. This prompt has been sitting in my ask box for god knows how long and I finally wrote it. Sorry it took so long, anon, but I hope you all enjoy. The SW world and it's characters belong to always fantastic @lumosinlove!
If you haven't read the rest of my Asher series, here's the link for tumblr and AO3!
cw: allergic reactions, talk of medicines, IVs, and hospitals
It started as a normal day, as most days tend to do. Remus got up first, doing some yoga in the living room before turning on the coffee maker to run while he was in the shower. He had this routine down pat so of course, he was ready with Sirius’s cup of coffee when the taller man came up behind him, nuzzling into his neck.
“Morning, mon loup.” Sirius mumbled, his voice still rough with sleep as his arms wrapped around Remus’s waist.
A soft smile spread across Remus’s face as he pressed the steaming cup of coffee into his fiancé's hand, “Good morning, Pads. I can get Ash ready for Lily’s if you want a shower before practice.” Remus said quietly, already hearing movement from the toddler’s bedroom.
Sirius answered with a kiss to his shoulder, looking up at him with a grin, “You’re the best, babe,” He said as he pulled away, cheekily slapping Remus’s butt before making his way to their bathroom. Shaking his head fondly, Remus turned to start getting Asher’s breakfast ready, the oatmeal cooking on the stove.
Just as he was about to go check Asher was awake, a small pair of arms wrapped around his legs from the side. Asher rested his head on his Papa’s hip, letting out a loud yawn. Remus couldn’t help the chuckle he let out, their son so much like his daddy, it was ridiculous.
“G’Morning, Papa.” Asher murmured, rubbing his eyes as he tried to wake up.
Remus picked him up, resting the toddler on his hip as he finished up his breakfast, “Good morning, mon chou. Sleep well?” He asked as he put the oatmeal into a bowl, topping it off with some berries before getting him set up at the table.
The little boy hummed happily, sipping his milk as he waited for the hot cereal to cool down, “Yep! I had a dream that Harry and I were wizards and we got to battle a bunch of bad guys and we won of course and it was so cool.”
Remus chuckled, sipping his coffee as he listened to his son’s dramatic retelling of his dream, “Of course, you won. Most powerful wizards ever, obviously.”
Nodding happily, Asher started in on his breakfast as he continued to fill his Papa in on the wizarding world from his dream. He had quite the imagination and it definitely came through his dreams.
When he had finished, Remus helped him wash up and get dressed before Sirius came in with his bag for the Potter’s house. Lily always watched Asher during their practices, letting him and Harry tire themselves out together. They were the best of friends, constantly attached at the hip. When they pulled up to the Potter’s house, Lily and Harry were already waiting on the front porch, the boy already jumping excitedly as he saw their car pull up.
As soon as Asher was released from his booster seat, he was running as fast as his little legs would take him. And Harry, not one to be outdone in the dramatics department, met him halfway and slammed him into a hug.
Lily laughed, coming down off the porch to give the two men a hug, “Sorry, I’m not gonna sprint up to you two,” She said, giving them both a tight squeeze.
“Wow, I see how much our friendship means to you!” Remus teased, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Now, where’s that husband of yours? Still doing his hair?”
A loud laugh came from the doorway, James appearing with his bag thrown over his shoulder, “Yeah, you know me. Very much worried about my hair when I’m putting a helmet on.” He said, throwing his bag into their car before giving Lily and Harry a kiss goodbye.
After saying goodbye to their own little munchkin, the three men were off to practice. Today consisted of some dry land training for warm-ups before moving on to some drills. They were about an hour into their drills when Coach Weasley blew the whistle from the sidelines.
“Black! Lupin! You’ve got a call!” He yelled across the ice, his eyebrows furrowed as he held out the phone.
Knowing that calls weren’t allowed during practice unless there was an emergency, the two men were to the bench in seconds, Remus quickly grabbing the phone, “Hello?”
Lily’s frantic voice was on the other side of the phone, already talking, “Remus, I’m sorry, I literally looked away for a second, and then he was screaming. I didn’t even see-”
“Lily, take a deep breath. What’s going on? What happened?” Remus said, trying to keep his voice calm.
A shaky breath came through the speaker before she continued, “I took the boys to the park across the street like I always do, and they were on the playground. It was fine then all of a sudden, Ash let out a really loud scream. I got over there as soon as I could, but he had already hives. Harry said he had a bee on his arm and got stung. I called an ambulance, and we’re at Gryffindor hospital now in the ER. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even know he was allergic.”
Remus was already unlacing his skates, the phone held between his shoulder and ear, “It’s not your fault, Lils. We didn’t know he was allergic either. We’ll be there soon.” Quickly handing the phone back to their coach, Remus and Sirius ran back to the locker room.
In less than 5 minutes, the two men were back in their car, racing towards the hospital. “Fucking bees,” Sirius muttered, quickly pulling into the parking lot.
As soon as they were parked, both of them quickly ran into the ER, their hearts pounding in their chest as they reached the front desk, “W-We’re here for Asher Lupin-Black.” Remus said to the receptionist.
She pointed them down the hall and they were off, seeing Lily waiting in the hallway outside of the room. Lily met them halfway, Harry on her hip sniffling quietly, “The doctor is in with him right now. God, I’m so sorry. I had just gone to grab my phone to take a picture of them, Harry said they were chasing the bee. I didn’t even realize there was one by them.”
Sirius pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “Lily, it’s not your fault. He’s a kid, these things are going to happen. You got him here as soon as you could and got him help, and we’re so so thankful.”
Sniffling softly, Lily wiped at her face, “I was so scared, all I heard was him screaming. The hives spread so quickly.”
The door opened as they stood talking, a doctor coming out of Asher’s room. His eyes widened at the sight of the two hockey players, probably realizing who’s child he had been working on before giving them a small smile, “Hi there, I’m Dr. Johannis. You must be Asher’s dads.”
“Yes, how’s he doing? Is he ok?” Remus asked as he stepped forward, already itching to get into the room and see his son.
Dr. Johannis was nodding before Remus had even finished, “Asher is doing fine. He came in with anaphylaxis from what appears to be a bee sting. Luckily, due to your friend’s quick actions, we were able to get him in the ambulance and give him a shot of epinephrine. He’s doing much better already, the hives have begun to fade. We do have him on oxygen at the moment as a precaution.”
Remus and Sirius both let out a breath as if a weight had been lifted directly off their shoulders. Asher was okay.
“Can we see him?” Sirius asked, his eyes flickering to the closed door behind the doctor.
Smiling, Dr. Johannis nodded, “Yes, of course. My nurse is just in there, double-checking his vitals. We want to keep him for a little bit longer to keep an eye on him but you should be able to take him home tonight.”
After thanking the doctor, Lily urged them on without her, “Go on, he was asking for you both. I’ll text Coach so he can let the team know. I’m sure they’re all worried.” Nodding, the two of them quickly made their way into the room. Asher looked so small on the hospital bed, an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth as he watched the nurse fiddle with the monitor. He quickly turned to the door as soon as it opened, eyes quickly filling with tears when he saw his dads.
“I’m sorry!” Asher cried, his voice muffled from the mask. Remus and Sirius were next to him in seconds, pulling him as close as they could without tugging any wires or IVs out.
Running a hand gently through his hair, Sirius pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “Oh mon chou, it’s okay. You didn’t know that was going to happen.”
“We’re just glad you’re okay, bub.” Remus said, running his hand gently over the little boy’s back.
Sniffling quietly, Asher rested his head on his Daddy’s side, “We thought it was a bumblebee, and Uncle James said those are fluffy and they don’t sting and they’re nice. But it wasn’t fluffy and it was not nice.” He huffed, wiping at his face.
Sirius couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling Asher closer, “Well now you know which ones to stay away from, right?” He asked, feeling the toddler nod before he let out a loud yawn.
“Sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to give you a heads-up. The medicine we gave him through the IV might make him sleepy,” The nurse said from next to them, as he headed to the door. “Let us know if you need anything.”
Remus nodded, pulling the blanket over Asher’s legs as the little boy began to doze off, “Of course, thank you so much.”
Then it was just the three of them, the only noises coming from the monitor and Ash’s soft snores.
“Well. That was fucking scary.” Remus whispered, leaning over to rest his head on his fiancé's shoulder.
Sirius snorted, his head falling onto Remus’s, “Yeah, that’s an understatement. Thought my heart was gonna fall out of my ass when Coach said we had a call.” Remus nodded in agreement, remembering the moment he heard Lily on the other side of the line.
“The team is gonna spoil the shit out of him. Like he isn’t going to have to walk anywhere for months,” Sirius continued, his hand moving to run through Asher’s soft curls.
Rolling his eyes, Remus glanced over at Sirius, “You act as though they don’t already spoil the shit out of him. Leo carried him on his back all around New York last month. Nado sneaks him treats constantly. And if Dumo brings him one more toy, we’re going to have to move to a bigger house.”
Sirius couldn’t help the large smile that spread on his face because Remus wasn’t wrong. Asher was spoiled. The team loved him, and he loved them all right back. They were so lucky to have such a supportive chosen family, and Sirius didn’t really believe in God but shit, he was grateful to whatever deity gave him this life. He had a loving fiancé, a fantastic son, and the best damn family a man could ever ask for. There was nothing better.
And when their entire house was filled with hundreds of “Get Well Soon” balloons and an entire hockey team when they got home that night, all of the worry was entirely worth it to see their little boy’s face light up the room.
#asher pascal#asher pascal series#fic#coops#wolfstar#wolfstar fic#sweater weather#lumosinlove#cw: allergic reaction#cw: hospital#fluff#kid fic#anon prompt#prompt fic#mentioned:#leo knut#jackson nadeau#pascal dumais#gryffindor#gryffindor lions#lumosinlove sweater weather#wolfstar dads
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not Today
It's finally here!
Thanks so much @whatsmyline-pb for all your help and all you wonderful people out there who always are such an inspiration and motivation.
Anyone who wants to be added to the tag list, please let me know.
Fandom: Vikings
Rating: Mature
Categories: M/F; M/M
Relationships: Ivar/Hvitserk; Ivar/Heahmund; Ivar/Reader
Trigger warning for mentioning of past drug abuse, loss of loved one, psychological child abuse; see Ao3 for all tags
Words: 3808
Bright sunlight blinded Hvitserk’s eyes when he climbed up higher and higher into the huge oak, closely followed by his little brother.
“Wait for me,” he heard toddler Ivar cheerfully giggle. “I’ll get you, Hvitserk!”
And Hvitserk turned around, looking into Ivar’s shining eyes, light blue like a frozen lake and yet full of life and warmth. Tiny teeth innocently exposed to the sun, a chubby hand reaching out to his older brother who leaned forward to grip it and lift Ivar up to the next branch. But just as their soft hands touched, Ivar slipped and Hvitserk couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as his little brother fell and fell until he landed in the meadow below with a dull thud.
The sound went straight to Hvitserk’s core, pumping adrenaline through his veins and waking him up with a racing heartbeat, breathing hard, bare chest covered in cold sweat.
“Ivar,” he breathed panicked, still trying to fully escape the dream, having already stumbled out of bed and towards the entrance of his apartment. There in a little clay bowl, made by his half-sister Gyda, were the keys to the next-door apartment, which belonged to his younger brother, Ivar.
When Hvitserk arrived in his brother’s pitch-dark bedroom, he was devastated to make out the shadow of Ivar on the floor. That could only mean two things: that his baby brother was deadly drunk…or worse.
Not sure which option he’d have to face, Hvitserk slowly knelt. He stretched his arm out but hesitated to let his hand touch Ivar yet.
“Hey brother? Ivar!” and when he carefully shook his brother’s shoulder and was not yelled at, he started to wish Ivar was drunk. Selfishly, Hvitserk longed for the less painful explanation, knowing what followed would break both their hearts. Again.
He carefully leaned over Ivar and whispered, “It’s okay, I’m here.” Then he stood up, turned back the covers on the bed and waited for his brother to drag himself onto it. The ongoing silence, so unlike his brother, scared Hvitserk. After Ivargot himself up and into bed Hvitserk’s heart felt enormously heavy, and he got to bed as well, lining himself up behind his brother, carefully pushing one of his knees between Ivar’s cold, lifeless legs. Just when he lay his arm around Ivar’s waist, offering his other arm as a pillow, the latter mumbled, barely audible, “I can’t take it anymore.”
Fuck. What is he supposed to say to that? “It’s all going to be okay”? Because how could it? They both knew it would be such a lie.
So instead Hvitserk drew Ivar closer and asked him: “Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that. Breathe.”
After a few minutes Ivar’s breathing steadied and Hvitserk calmed down a bit himself, only to start wondering what had put Ivar in such a state. His thoughts wandered and Hvitserk didn’t realise that he was slowly drifting back to sleep until a rough voice suddenly mumbled, “I wish I could be just like everyone else. Not standing out. Not in constant pain. And not needing to be looked after.”
And while that should have made Hvitserk’s heart break, it nearly cheered him up; all his brother longed for, was so reasonable. But above all, the bitterness with which he proclaimed his dreams, although only whispered, showed his strength. Yes, he might be in despair, and who wouldn’t? But Ivar would never give up. That was something Hvitserk was so sure of in that moment.
He cleared his throat: “Well my dear brother, if you of all the people would be just like everybody else, this world would be a damn boring place.” And he knew how Ivar smiled in that moment even if he couldn’t see it, and he felt his chest broaden. And he went on: “And -as much as it hurts me to admit - someone so remarkable, like you, will always stand out.” And hey, that even earned him a little huff.
Ivar had taken his brother’s hand and their thumbs brushed over each other’s fingers, just the way they had done when they were kids.
“Regarding the pain, brother; not the one who never fell, but the one who always stood up again is the strongest of them all.”
“That some wisdom of your Buddha, huh?” Ivar teased playfully.
“Fuck you,” Hvitserk smiled and hurried to bury his face in Ivar’s neck. They both knew that these two words were actually saying: “There is nothing in this world I’d rather do than to take care of you. I love you.”
It was silent again. No cars were driving outside yet and Hvitserk couldn’t even hear a bird over the loud pulsing of his blood. It must be between two or three o’clock in the morning.
Ivar’s strong hands clasped close around his brother’s wrist while his right elbow punched Hvitserk playfully in his side.
“Hey,” he complained.
Ivar then twisted his upper body, pushed himself a bit up and turned his face towards his brother. Their lips were just inches apart and Hvitserk felt Ivar’s warm breath on his when he looked him deep in the eyes and then hummed a drowsy, “Good night”.
They must have fallen asleep straight afterwards since Hvitserk couldn’t remember closing his eyes at all, but now, awake again, he heard many birds chirping outside. Once more he was grateful, they had not only found neighbouring apartments, but that they had come with a roof terrace. Not only thecoolest thing for parties but also a great space to grow strawberries in the summer, some herbs, tomatoes lavender and some tiny trees, which attracted a lot of tiny birds. Sometimes Hvitserk was still surprised how much he really liked gardening, but it had helped him a lot during his past struggle. Taking care of something that could grow and prosper under his touch, through his care, proved to him once again that he was needed and able to do good.
It had always been like that though, Hvitserk had always been the one everyone in the family could rely on. He had always gladly helped and still it was just so often overlooked. Being sandwiched between siblings— three older, two elevated by their superior lineage, and the two youngest, so loud and demanding, constantly fighting for their parent’s attention— Hvitserk shared the fate of most middle children; being taken granted for by everyone.
Somehow no one had ever wondered, why it was him who started to get up at night and go over to the room Sigurd and Ivar shared as kids when the latter cried. Hvitserk didn’t blame Sigurd though, who was still so young himself, and he would never blame anyone anyway. Still, sometimes he had wondered why Ubbe never thought it was his duty as the eldest to help their overtired parents by looking after Ivar at night sometimes. After a while Hvitserk’s sleep got so light that Ivar just had to whimper, and his older brother was there to soothe him before his parents even heard anything.
Of course, it was their mom, and only she, who was able to get through to Ivar when he was in really bad pain, when he had another broken bone or had extreme growing pains. And during the days it was Ubbe or their dad who made sure to keep Ivar entertained and occupied as good as possible, as much as Aslaug allowed, to distract Ivar from his chronic pain. But it was always Hvitserk who calmed Ivar when he had a bad dream or was sad and frustrated and couldn’t sleep because the rising pain kept him awake. Then his older brother would carefully cuddle up to him and retell him the stories he himself had just heard from Ubbe. Hvitserk loved Ubbe dearly and his storytelling abilities was only one of the many things Hvitserk admired him for.
Cuddling up to each other became their routine, and then sometimes Hvitserk would stroke his baby brother’s back in calming circles, sometimes he just held his tiny shaking hand, sometimes he’d whisper stories and sometimes it took never-ending assurances of “it will soon be better” before Ivar fell asleep again.
The calming circles was a trick Gyda had shown him; Hvitserk was sure that he would have had no chance of ever looking after Ivar if Gyda and Björn had lived in the same house. But sharing the same property with two main houses was all Lagertha and Aslaug could agree to. The houses had to be in fact the exact replicas, his father grumbling that this made him look like an idiot to the rest of Kattegat, while Aslaug was furious hers wasn’t bigger, as she had given him not only two but four children and one needed special care, while Lagertha always played the “but I was his first wife and gave birth to his first son” card. This bickering had been a constant background noise to them all throughout their childhood.
The kids all got along well. Sometimes it seemed as if they were making up for their parent’s constant fighting. Hvitserk looked up to Ubbe, Ubbe adored Björn, Sigurd was a needy little pest but was always kept in check by their sweet sister Gyda who was the one person all of them always instantly listened to, even though she never raised her voice. And they all loved their baby brother Ivar.
Looking back, Hvitserk thought that never raising her voice had worked wonders for Gyda and had been her superpower in the often so loud household. Wherever she went, Gyda exuded an atmosphere of calm and friendliness.
Hvitserk missed his half-sister, while, lost in thought, he stroked a strand of damp hair from Ivar's forehead. After some time, he carefully made sure that Ivar was still asleep and then snuck out of the bed and back to his own apartment.
These neighbouring apartments had been a gift from the gods, just when both had needed a wink from fate. After Hvitserk got released from rehab Aslaug didn’t want to have him in their house anymore. She was very outspoken about it and about her reason for it: she feared for Ivar. Those words, yelled in a high-pitched voice, made Ivar doubt his mother’s sanity for the second time in his life. Her angry announcement also led to a fierce fight between Ragnar and Athelstan; Athelstan didn’t want to waste a moment before welcoming Hvitserk in the home he and Ragnar shared. But Ragnar proclaimed that it would do Hvitserk no good if he wasn’t forced to stand on his own feet again.
Being of age and with both his parents not wanting him around, Hvitserk was overjoyed that his little brother was finally sick of Aslaug’s suffocating love and was similarly anxious to get out of the toxic household.
It also helped immensely that Ragnar’s guilty consciousness led him to move mountains and loads of money to grant them their neighbouring apartments over the roofs of Copenhagen.
Aslaug had a fit that someone in a wheelchairwould want to move to a roof top loft, but all three men had done their best to just ignore her. The boys would swear they had later heard their dad’s thoughts on exactly where their mom could shove her concerns regarding the roof top, as they argued on the street.
The modern building had an excellent lift, and the character of the loft gave Ivar all the space he needed. Ragnar made sure that his good friend Floki oversaw any needed adjustments in regards of the widths of the doors or the accessibility of the terrace.
Ivar’s apartment also had adjusted furniture throughout all rooms and Floki took pride in designing the kitchen himself.
Now, back in his own apartment, the cold blanket over Hvitserk’s unused bed made him shiver as he wrapped himself in it. He couldn’t fall asleep again. Instead, he lay there, stared at his ceiling, a wave of emotions suddenly clashing over him. The last three years had been such a roller coaster.
Thora.
His fingers clung to the blanket almost painfully.
Hvitserk pressed his eyes together and forced himself to try some steady breaths, just as he had shown to Ivar only a few hours ago. After a few minutes, he breathed out deeply, opened his eyes and mumbled into the darkness: “You did well. You overcame things, Hvits. You did it and you can still do it.” And suddenly, his anxiety switched to a slightly hysterical laughter. “Oh fuck!” he laughed staring at the ceiling again. “I’m such a pathetic loser, mumbling to myself in the dark…”
But his words didn’t contain any heat and a small smile formed on his lips since he knew he wasn’t a pathetic looser. At least definitely not when it came to other people. Hvitserk knew that he was a good brother. Especially to Ivar. Always had, always would be.
Hvitserk relaxed a bit more in his bed and thought back to their childhood again. He had always understood Ivar’s despair, his illness making him incapable to certain aspects of life. Hvitserk had never looked to the side or pretend not to hear when small sniffles filled his brother’s bedroom. Hvitserk could never stand anyone being in pain.
That’s how he and Ivar had become inseparable, even though Hvitserk had never stopped loving spending time with Ubbe. But the nights filled with hidden sobs belonged to him and his baby brother. When they had gotten a bit older and started school, they started to hide their cuddling from the rest, Hvitserk always sneaking back to his bed before anyone woke up. Just as they had done now. But nevertheless, hiding it sometimes didn’t sit well with Hvitserk since they weren’t doing anything wrong. And he often longed for owning up to it.
Especially when the comforting felt so good.
******
The next time Hvitserk woke was thanks to his vibrating phone. With narrowed eyes he tapped around his bed to find it. The sun was already shining brightly into his room, and he wondered what time it was.
With a groan he opened the screen but then smiled.
Ivar had sent a picture of his famous pancakes and the teasing/taunting message, “Liking them cold now?”
Hvitserk answered with the running man emoji and jumped out of bed to get a quick shower.
About 15 minutes and a stack of freshly made pancakes later, Ivar asked, “Good?” with a raised eyebrow, rather amused about the way Hvitserk stuffed the sweets in.
“Sure,” Hvitserk grinned and held his coffee cup up shaking it in the air in silent request.
“Huh! Don’t you have legs, anymore?” Ivar huffed with mocked indignation, nevertheless taking the cup and limping towards his fancy coffee machine.
Those were the good moments. And Ivar had them, and they both loved them, but there was still the underlying question about last night. While Ivar pushed the buttons on the shiny coffee machine to make his brother an Americano, Hvitserk started to play around on his phone.
And there it was, the explanation for last night:
Special needs Ragnarsson to join university of Copenhagen
There are pictures too. They must have caught Ivar yesterday afternoon; looking very grumpy while he had tried to climb the stairs of the university, struggling with his crutches while carrying the registration paperwork under one arm as well.
“Ivar…” he sighed, a dull plain already clenching around his heart.
He could see how Ivar’s back muscles stiffened before he hissed a frustrated: “Don’t.”
Gosh, how Hvitserk hated the paparazzi for what they were constantly doing to them. If it wasn’t him being caught drunk, Björn with some women or Sigurd with some guy, they could always rip on Ivar.
“You could’ve…” he started but got harshly interrupted by his brother.
“No, I can’t always run whining to Ubbe, okay?” He slammed his coffee angrily on the table with such a force, that little droplets of coffee splashed to his plate. “And I won’t! Besides they just caught me off guard,” Ivar hissed through gritted teeth.
They both sat silently for a while, trying to concentrate on their breakfast, which no longer tasted that good, with all the tension in the air.
Ivar knew his brother was just worried about him, but he didn’t need that, well at least he didn’t want it. He wanted to stand up for himself and make his own decisions. And it was probably this thought that made him admit: “I visited mom, afterward.”
He didn’t even have to look over to Hvitserk to know how immediately tense he became. Biting his lower lip, a frown on his forehead Ivar prepared himself to hear a litany of reasons why that had been a fucking stupid idea.
Just as Hvitserk opened his mouth, Ivar got ahead of him. Looking out of the huge window, concentrating on the clouds to avoid looking at his brother, he admitted in a low voice:
“I just had to, Hvit. I wanted to show her the stuff from university and just share that with her.” And then he turned around facing his brother, suddenly quite furiously: “Just because you all hate her, I don’t, okay!?”
Hvitserk dropped his fork in resignation. Pancakes or not, it was too early to have this discussion again. And while he wondered how they could have arrived at this argument again, his phone beeped.
Ubbe: Is he okay?
Hvitserk huffed, rolled his eyes, and typed the fitting emoji in the box, adding, “what do you think?” Then added another message: “for even more fun, he went to see mother afterwards…”
Ubbe: ugh, one day I’ll get her a restraining order, I swear!
Hvitserk: only if you want Ivar never to speak to you again…
Unnerved from the typing, Ivar felt he’d lash out on his brother any second when he got a message himself.
The sender startled him, though, and a surprised “Huh” escaped his lips. He was supporting himself with one hand on the kitchen island, staring at his mobile in the other with quite some disbelieve.
“What’s it?”
“It’s from Lagertha,” Ivar frowned.
Abandoning his own mobile and instead reaching for the last pancake – because tension or not, Hvitserk was definitely not wasting any food - he wondered what Lagertha was up to.
They all tried to be civil with her, although being honest and more precise, it was only Ivar and he who needed some effort to behave around her. Ubbe had always adored her, although maybe Ubbe had only always adored Björn and dreamt about having the same mother as his big idol.
And do not get him started on Sigurd. That idiot would write an essay about the hardships of this poor, hard fighting women, who lost her husband to some bitch of a woman. Whose then ex-husband never stop hitting on her and dreaming about the three of them living together before he finally gave up on both and moved on. On to Athelstan, the ex-priest he had fallen in love with on one of his many travels.
It was no wonder Sigurd adored Lagertha as she had never - in contrast to both his biological parents – looked down on his musical aspirations as weak, and even supported him to try turn his passion into a proper job. Nonetheless, Hvitserk never understood why his little brother had come out as bisexual to Lagertha first and not to their father, given his current situation. That was one step too many if you asked Hvitserk. He and all his brothers would have been – well were – supportive of Sigurd. The fact he trusted Lagertha more than them, had driven a wedge between Sigurd and him. It had hurt and confused him, and he didn’t want to dislike Sigurd. And sometimes Hvitserk thought it had just been another way for his younger brother to get attention.
For a very short time Sigurd had been the family’s baby and gotten all their mother’s attention. She was so proud of him when he was born with a sign in his eyes. She had been walking around telling everyone about old sagas and that “Sigurd Snake in the Eye” was born for higher things. And then Ivar was born and all of Aslaug’s attention was drawn to him.
As understandable as it was that Ivar needed more attention than other babies, Aslaug just completely forgot about Sigurd. Forgot about all of them, actually, but Hvitserk and Ubbe had already been at an age where not too much attention from their mother was actually welcomed. Whereas Sigurd was just a toddler himself and didn’t understand what he could have done wrong to be totally wiped from his mother’s plate. Still craving for her love and attention, Sigurd identified Ivar as the cause of his misery and had despised him since then.
It was entirely thanks to Gyda that things between the two youngest never escalated. She had always put so much effort in bringing the two youngest together and creating a mutual understanding for each other’s situations. And while their dad was grateful, in awe of his daughter, both of his ex-wives, at some point, grew weary of Gyda’s efforts. Hvitserk never understood what had happened then and neither Lagertha nor his mother ever cared to explain anything to them. One day, Gyda had simply left. It had taken a whole year for her to reach out to them again.
“What does she want?” Hvitserk sighed, not sure if he really cared. Sometimes Hvitserk just wanted his former, very uncomplicated life back. The life they had, when their parents were still together, the life prior to Sigurd getting caught being fucked up the ass by a slimy music producer or Hvitserk lying in his own vomit after a bad trip. No, don’t think back to the drugs, he instantly told himself. He closed his eyes and wished that Ivar either wouldn’t notice his trembling hand or would think that it was Lagertha stressing him out. After all, he had been clean for nearly two years now.
Luckily Ivar didn’t seem to realise his sudden instability or maybe put it down as him still needing more sugar. He didn’t comment on it, at least, but instead explained:
“She said some guy saw one of my photographs at her home and asked if there was more. He might be interested in buying.”
“Oh. Well, that’d be cool, no?” Hvitserk replied with a full mouth.
Ivar huffed, and then looked at his brother. He had a smirk on his lips and didn’t seem to be angry any longer: “Well, definitely cooler than the guy’s name.”
Hvitserk raised an eyebrow questioningly. And when Ivar read, with exaggerated clarity, “Heahmund” they both started to laugh.
@not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pieces-by-me @punkrocknpearls @vikingstrash
#vikings au#vikings fanfiction#vikings ivar#ivar the boneless#hvitserk#vikings hvitserk#ragnarssons#ragnar lothbrok#heahmund x ivar#ivar x reader#floki#athelstan#lagertha#gyda#vikings#sigurd#vikings ubbe#aslaug#vikings bjorn
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mine
*Daveed Diggs x Reader
*Request: Anonymous asked: “heyyy i really enjoyed reading your writing of Daveed diggs! Can i request one where Daveed diggs and y/n(maybe like a stagehand or a stage manager) meets in hamiliton, and they are friends with benefits, but they also have feelings for each other, and then daveed gets jealous seeing you flirt with other guys and confesses? (iknow its kinda cheesy but... Thanks!”
*Warnings: Language, jealousy, smut (like this fic starts out immediately with a smut scene), light dom/sub, choking, spanking, use of ‘baby girl’, fingering, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, dirty talk, grinding, hair pulling, marking, unprotected sex (wrap it up). Let me know if I missed anything!
*A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all! I’m beginning to notice my smut fics are a lot longer (this one’s about 7.5k). Anyways this got filthy and I think that says a lot about me lol. ALSO BIG WARNING THE FIRST SCENE IN THIS IS A SMUT SCENE SO YOU’VE BEEN WARNED
Tip Jar
**********
You knew you had to get ready for work, but at the moment, you didn’t care. His hand rested heavy on your hip, grip tight enough to bruise, while his other held your body up against his. He pounded into you, low groans and pants right next to your ear letting you know just how close he was.
“You take me so good, baby girl. So fucking wet for me,” he rasped before biting down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, muffling his noises. You whined, wanting to hear him just as much as he wanted to hear you. He seemed to get the message, kissing the fresh mark before he started talking again. “You’re gonna be late, but you just had to get fucked, didn’t you? Last night wasn’t enough, you just needed me again. I can feel you getting tighter, are you close, baby?”
“Fuck, Daveed, I’m so close. Please,” you whined as he somehow managed to speed up his thrusts.
“Please what, baby? I wanna hear you say it for me.”
“Please let me cum!” Daveed practically growled as the words left you, bringing his hand from your waist to rub your clit. He always rewarded your obedience.
“Cum for me, baby girl,” he demanded. The second he gave permission, you could feel the jolts of pleasure through your body as you coated his length in your release. He didn’t last much longer, his thrusts staggered as he chased his own pleasure. He pushed as deep into you as he could before he came with a loud groan, holding you close to him. “Fuck, you always do so good for me.”
You could already feel the fatigue settling in as Daveed moved you to lay with him, his arms around you. If you weren’t already running behind schedule, you would’ve loved to stay there with him, ignoring the mess between your legs until the last possible second. Maybe you’d both drift back into sleep, then go for a lazier round when you woke up again. Maybe he’d join you in the shower, complaining about how hot you always ran the water. But nope, you were already risking being late.
“Alright, let me up. I gotta go shower,” you said, trying to get out of his hold.
“No, lay with me a bit longer,” he whined. You tried not to laugh; he was always so clingy after sex, even when you were on a tight schedule like this.
“I don’t wanna be late. You can stay in bed, but I swear if you’re late, I’m gonna kick your ass,” you warned, finally slipping out of the bed. Daveed mumbled something into the pillow, but you ignored him as you left for your bathroom. As you waited for the water to heat up, you assessed the damage he’d done. Hickies adorned your bra line, finger-shaped bruises decorated your hips, and even though it wasn’t too aggressive at the moment, you could tell the bite mark he’d just left on you would bruise nicely. You ran your finger over the mark on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, so tempted to just go back to Daveed’s warmth in your bed. Before you could convince yourself to join him, you jumped in the shower.
You left Daveed in your apartment with another threat to get to the theatre on time and a reminder to lock the door after himself. The two of you never got to the theatre at the same time, trying your best to hide the little friends with benefits situation you had going on. Sure, people could tell you had a little flirty thing between you, but that was just how the two of you being friends worked. It was always nerve wracking when people (see, Lin) tried setting the two of you up, but you managed somehow. You had the feeling it wouldn’t work if the two of you tried anything more than your current arrangement, not matter how much you sincerely hoped it wasn’t true. You weren’t willing to risk it though, content with just being able to sleep with him.
You enjoyed the walk to the theatre every morning, the brisk air waking you up to deal with everything that was bound to happen during the day. Today wasn’t a show day, so that meant you didn’t have to worry about things going wrong ten minutes before curtain. Rehearsal days were actually pretty calm for the most part. Well, as calm as they could be considering at least half the cast were really just overgrown children.
As usual, you were one of the first ones in the theatre. You took the chance to do your initial once-over, making sure things were where they needed to be for the day. Though you technically were supposed to have one of the stagehands do this, you enjoyed the time to yourself before the day started. Quiet moments were rare in the theatre, and the music playing softly in your headphones allowed you to get lost in your work. The next time you’d get the chance to do this would be after rehearsals were done, and by then you would be too tired to enjoy it.
Once your check was done, all you could do was wait for the others to show up. It would be at least another half hour until people started trickling in - Leslie normally being the first to join you. You waited by the Keurig for your coffee to finish pouring, lost in your thoughts for the things you’d need to do for the day. A new stagehand was going to be joining you, and most of your day would be training them. Even though - once again - this was something one of the stagehands could do, you enjoyed doing it. Before you could get lost further in your thoughts, you jumped at the feeling of a hand placed on your waist.
“What the f-” You turned, tugging one of your earbuds out. You were kind of surprised to see Daveed standing there, smiling wide at your reaction. “What the fuck, Diggs?”
“What? You told me not to be late,” he said, still amused at how he managed to scare you. “You know, maybe you shouldn’t have both earbuds in when you’re here alone, you never know who might come in.”
“Yeah, it might be one of the asshole actors,” you bit back, finally managing to get your heart to stop racing. You turned back to grab your coffee, taking enough of a drink to burn your tongue a bit.
“I mean, you weren’t calling me an asshole this morning,” he teased, leaning in until he was just a breath away from kissing you. Despite your body yelling at you to accept his kiss, you put your hand to his chest to push him back a bit.
“Hey, what did we say about work?” You tried to remind him. Almost getting caught at work a couple times really made it so you had to set at least a couple boundaries.
“Aw, am I really not allowed to touch you, baby girl? You know no one’s gonna be here for a while, we have some time,” he tried convincing you, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. Even the seemingly innocent action had your heart racing yet again.
“Diggs, chill it,” you said, trying to ignore the slight whine in your tone. He was getting to you and he knew it, but he respected your words enough to step back, going to make his own coffee. “So, why are you here so early? I thought you were going back to sleep.”
“I couldn’t after that little wake up call you gave me,” he teased. You rolled your eyes even as you smiled into your cup. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”
“You guys are gonna run through Act 2, I think. I’m not gonna be too invested in that, though.”
“Aw, why not?”
“We’re getting a new stagehand and I’m gonna train them,” you explained. “I wanna make sure they’re ready to work by the show on Saturday.”
“I’m gonna miss seeing your pretty face trying to act like you’re not staring at me.”
“Bold of you to assume I stare at you when Oak is right there.”
“It’s not assuming since I know you scream my name and not Oak’s.”
“Bold of you to assume I don’t scream his too,” you quickly took another drink to hide your satisfied smile. Daveed looked completely offended, exactly what you were going for with your little jab. If you hadn’t been at work, you knew he would do something about it, but he was just going to have to go about rehearsal dealing with it. You didn’t know if there would be repercussions later, but that was all part of the fun.
“You little…”
“Wow, Daveed actually woke up early today?” Leslie interrupted the two of you, already sounding like he’d been awake and ready to go for ages. You didn’t know how true that was, considering it was barely nine in the morning, but he was always ready to go.
“Dude, I’m capable of waking up early.”
“Really? You were dead before that one interview we had-”
“That was at six in the morning!”
“Get on my level, Diggs. I have to wake up that early every day except for show days,” you teased. “Normally Leslie and I get the chance to hang out before everyone else shows up, you’re kinda killing our routine.”
“You hurt me, (y/n). Here I was thinking I’d surprise you by showing up early, but apparently I’m just unwanted,” Daveed whined, finally taking his coffee so Leslie could make one if he wanted to. Leslie was quick to jump in, making himself a mug of tea for the morning.
“I’m glad you understand,” Leslie quipped. “(Y/n) and I have to stick to our routine.”
“I see how it is. I’m gonna go take a nap in my dressing room, come get me when people who aren’t mean get here.” Daveed was practically pouting as he left the two of you, cradling his coffee mug in his hands. As soon as he was out of sight - and earshot - you and Leslie couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore.
“He’s so easy to mess with,” Leslie said once he finally caught his breath. “So, the new stagehand starts today, right?”
“Yeah, I don’t know when they’re supposed to get here, but I’ll probably be training them for the rest of the week.”
“Wait, aren’t you supposed to set when the stagehands get here?”
“Well, yeah, but if people get here early or like a few minutes late then I’m not gonna hold it against them. Public transportation isn’t exactly reliable and traffic is a bitch,” you said, shrugging. “Kinda bummed Angel resigned, though. They were really reliable.”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to whip this one into shape pretty fast, though. Don’t worry about rehearsal, I’ll handle it,” Leslie reassured you. If someone could keep an eye on everyone, then rehearsal was bound to go smoothly.
“You’re literally the best, you have no idea how much I appreciate you.” Leslie smiled brightly at your praise.
“You do a lot for us, I just wanna make things easier for you. So, are you and Diggs, you know?”
As amazing as Leslie was, he could also be a bit of a gossip. Not that he would ever share anything, he just liked knowing things. “Nah, you know we’re not like that,” you brushed him off.
“I mean, you could be. I share a dressing room with the guy. I know he likes you,” Leslie said. You had to admit, you were a bit intrigued by this. While you knew the both of you definitely had sexual chemistry - as if the frequent nights spent together weren’t enough to confirm as much - you figured that was where the line was drawn. I mean, you could definitely be physically attracted to someone without being romantically interested in them, and you were sure Daveed only really saw you as a friend. If he didn’t, he would’ve told you by now, right?
“What’re you talking about, Leslie? We’re just friends,” you insisted.
“Sure. So you don’t wanna know what he says about you?”
“And here I was thinking you weren’t a gossip.”
“I’m not usually, I’m just tired of you two dancing around each other.”
“Now you know Diggs can’t dance.”
“Oh haha very funny,” Leslie said deadpan, staring at you. You were trying to use humor to cover up your own curiosity. There was the chance Leslie was just thinking too much into things, being the romantic at heart that he is, and if you got your hopes up just to find out Diggs didn’t actually like you like that? Nope, it wasn’t worth it.
“Thank you, I try,” you said with a smile. “Now, tell me how Nicolette’s doing. I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“You know, sometimes I think you like my wife more than you like me.”
“Of course I like your wife more than I like you.” Leslie held his hand to his chest in mock hurt. You smiled. Mornings with Leslie were always fun.
**********
Everyone else started trickling in within the next half hour or so. Diggs finally came out of his dressing room once Anthony and Oak got to the theatre, having some form of protection from your and Leslie’s “bullying”, as he put it. Once most of the cast got to the theatre, you began looking around for the new stagehand. Just as you were prepared to send them a text, you heard someone coming up behind you. You looked up, prepared to help whoever was coming up to you, when you realized you didn’t recognize this person.
“Uh, hi. Are you (y/n)?” He asked fidgeting with the strap of his messenger bag. Oh Lord, he’s kinda cute. That’s a problem.
“That would be me! Are you Michael?” He nodded, still looking around as though he was scanning the room. Of course he’d be nervous, it was his first day on a pretty major show. He was honestly adorable, and you couldn’t figure out if you wanted to protect him or pursue him.
“Yeah, uh, sorry I’m a little late.”
“No worries, I know how traffic is. Just try not to be more than fifteen minutes late or I’ll actually have to note it down. Right, I’ll show you where your locker is and then I’ll give you a tour of the place before I start your training. You’ve worked as a stagehand before, right?”
“Yeah, but mainly for community theatre. This is like… really different for me,” he admitted, getting a little flustered. Instead of fiddling with his messenger bag, he went to adjust his glasses, making you melt just a little bit.
“It’s not so bad. C’mon, let’s go,” you nodded towards the locker area, smiling at him.
Daveed watched you from across the room, wondering who you were talking to. He’d never seen the guy around before, and now you were walking off with him. He turned his attention back to the group he was sitting with. “Hey, Leslie. Who’s that guy (y/n)’s talking to?”
“Oh, I guess her new stagehand showed up,” Leslie commented, following Daveed’s gaze. “They’re gonna be working pretty close while she trains him.”
“Shit, really? Why can’t someone else train him?”
“Hey, Diggs, why do you care so much?” Anthony decided to jump in, seeing a prime opportunity for teasing. “I thought you said y’all were just friends.”
“We are! I just don’t like the idea of her being alone with that guy.”
“You sure you don’t like her? Kinda sounds like you’re jealous,” Oak commented.
“Man, shut up. When are we starting?” Diggs asked, trying to change the subject. He looked around, trying to see if he could spot you from where he was, but you were gone. Shit.
**********
Training the new guy ended up taking a lot more of your time than you expected. He was quick to pick up on the little tech stuff from his previous jobs, but you still had to prime him for working with your crew and the cast. Michael stuck close to your side, asking you about little things to make sure he’d be ready for Saturday’s show. Even when he didn’t have to be there - during breaks and lunch - he still hung out with you, just chatting about anything. You had to admit, you really liked his company. He was a good kid.
Being so busy meant you didn’t really get to hang out with Daveed as much, the only real time you got with him was when he insisted on walking you back to your apartment. There were a couple times when you were walking that Daveed took your hand in his, making your heart race. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for him to do, but with Leslie’s teasing at the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but read more into it. Then again, this was Daveed: your best friend that you happened to sleep with multiple times a week.
When the two of you got to your building, Daveed would kiss you on the front steps, that little fire and hunger burning in the movements of his lips against yours. Your body and mind buzzed, overwhelmed with the sensation of him, but your exhaustion would nag at the back of your mind, making you break the kiss far too soon for either of your liking.
“Can I come in?” Daveed would ask, desire evident in the way he looked down at you.
“I’m sorry, I’m just too tired tonight,” you’d apologize even as you wanted to lead him up to your apartment, to your bed. Even though you could tell he was a little disappointed, he nodded, respecting your decision. With a promise to text you when he got back to his place - and the unspoken promise to call until you both fell asleep - Daveed would call a Lyft to take him away for the night.
As you laid in bed, listening to Daveed’s voice over your phone speaker tell you random stories and whatever just popped into his head, you couldn’t help but imagine how nice it would be if you could actually do this. If you could actually fall asleep to him next to you, his arms wrapped around you, maybe pressing a kiss to your head when he thought you were asleep. Sure, when the two of you fucked, he would stay the night and hold you in his arms, talking to you as you drifted off to sleep, but you knew it wasn’t the same. Even though the two of you were friends, you couldn’t imagine you having a right to that if you didn’t provide benefits for the night. So you would settle for the phone calls and the calls of your domestic fantasies.
By the time Saturday rolled around, you were kind of excited. You’d get to sleep in since you didn’t need to be at the theatre until noon, Michael was going to have his first run without you hovering over him like an overprotective mom, and you were finally going to have the chance to spend some time with Daveed after the show. You had to admit, you were looking forward to that last one the most. Not sleeping with him for almost a full week and having that post-show adrenaline? It was going to be fun.
Once you got to the theatre, you were energized. You’d gotten more sleep than you usually did, you decided to splurge a bit on a drink from the overpriced coffee shop down the street, you actually had breakfast for once, things were looking like they were going to be good. As soon as you walked in, Daveed quickly attached himself to your side before Michael had the chance to. This, of course, led to teasing from the others.
“Dude’s acting like he was going through withdrawals,” Anthony joked when he was sure you and Daveed could hear him. He was talking his shit and he wanted you to know it.
“Don’t act like you’re not like this with Jazzy,” you quipped back. As sweet as Anthony (normally) was, he was whipped for Jazzy and everyone knew it.
“Yeah, but she’s my girlfriend. You tryna say something about you and Diggs?” Anthony shot back. Fuck, he had you there.
“Sorry you don’t have any friends so you can’t relate,” Daveed saved you. Anthony glared at him.
“Then what’re all you guys?”
“Coworkers,” you said, completely deadpan. Anthony’s glare turned into a look of hurt. You almost felt bad for him.
“You know what? I don’t like getting bullied like this.”
“Then don’t start shit you can’t finish, Ramos,” you told him. As much of a sweetheart he could be, he was definitely a little shit too. You were beginning to notice that was a bit of a common theme with the people you worked with.
When you and Diggs were in his dressing room later before the show - you putting his mic on for the show - he took your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm. You weren’t used to him being touchy like this, so your immediate response was to gently shove his face with your hand and tell him to stop it while you laughed. He smiled at you, letting you do your job.
“So, you gonna come over tonight after the show?” Daveed asked.
“I dunno, am I?”
“C’mon, it’s been a while. I know I’m not the only one that’s a mess, baby girl.” Heat rushed through you at the pet name, one normally reserved for just the bedroom or when he was trying to rile you up. And he was really succeeding at that second thing. Before you could answer, though, there was a knock on the door. “Come in.”
“Hey, uh, (y/n)?” Michael asked, peeking his head in the room. He brightened up when he saw you were in there, though you had no doubt he’d been asking around to find you. “Can I ask you a quick question before show starts?”
“Yeah, sure thing! Just let me finish up with Diggs’ mic and I’ll be out,” you said. Michael smiled brightly before excusing himself, closing the door again. You looked down at Daveed to find him glaring at the door.
“Yeah, you’re definitely coming to mine tonight.” You just tilted your head in confusion, but Daveed only waved you off. You shrugged, finishing your job. You’d have time to ask him after the show.
**********
The show went by a lot faster than you expected it to. Then again, when you were running around backstage, making sure everyone was ready and in places and didn’t have any costume or tech mishaps, you didn’t have a real concept of time. In the brief break you had during intermission, Michael found himself at your side, gushing about how cool the entire thing was. You watched him with a fond smile, glad things were going well during his first official show. You could feel someone looking at you, though, and looked up to find Daveed watching you, obviously not paying attention to whatever Leslie was telling him.
You kept it at the back of your mind as Act 2 started, getting back to your job. There would be time to question him about everything later. Act 2 flew past just as quickly as Act 1, and you watched in the wings as everyone took their bows. Daveed spotted you, giving you a bright smile. As soon as curtains closed, Daveed rushed up to you.
“Just let me get changed and then we’ll head out,” he told you. You could see him almost lean in, but he stopped himself at the last second, opting to ruffle your hair instead before booking it to his dressing room.
“Asshole!” you called out after him even as you laughed. You went to grab your backpack from your locker, not really having a way to kill time after the show. You could always talk to some of your coworkers, but you were sure they just wanted to head home as soon as possible too. You leaned against the wall, just messing around on your phone, when you heard someone walk up to you.
“Hey, (y/n)! I think the show went great!” Michael said as soon as you looked up.
“Yeah, it really did! I heard good things about you today, but how’d your first day go?” You asked, pushing yourself up from the wall. Michael immediately jumped into telling you about everything, really giving off puppy energy. You didn’t know how long you were talking to him, but you could tell he was dancing around something.
“You know, I really appreciate you taking the time to train me yourself. I’m sure I wouldn’t’ve done half as good if you didn’t. Uh, do you think I could like take you out for drinks or something as thanks if you’re not doing anything right now?” Michael finally said.
“Sorry, she has plans,” Daveed said, seemingly coming out of nowhere to put his arm around your shoulders. You jumped slightly at the sudden contact.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, she’s gonna get fucked until she can’t walk tomorrow.” This immediately drew a gasp of his name from you, but he ignored it and continued. “She’s mine, so you might wanna think again about asking her out.”
Before Michael could even think of saying anything else, Daveed practically dragged you out of the theatre. You struggled to keep up with him, cursing his long legs as you tried to figure out what the hell was going on. A Lyft was already waiting for the two of you outside, and he opened the door for you to get in. The ride was quiet, tension heavy in the air between the two of you, and you could tell the driver was a little uncomfortable even though they had no idea what was going on. As soon as you were in Daveed’s apartment, you turned to him.
“What the hell was that?! You really just said that to the new guy?! What the fuck is your problem?” You demanded as he closed the door behind him.
“He obviously has a crush on you, I needed to make sure he knew where he stood,” Daveed said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Even if he does have a crush on me - which I’m pretty sure he doesn’t - you don’t have the right to do that shit! We’re literally just fucking, it’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.” You inhaled sharply as Daveed took a step into your space.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Daveed asked, looking down at you. You tried to straighten up to your full height, but the height difference was still enough to make you feel small.
“Get what?” You tried to keep the venom in your tone even as your heart raced.
“It’s not just fucking. It’s hanging out with you even when we don’t do anything. It’s doing anything to make you smile, even if it’s because you’re bullying me. It’s being nervous to hold your hand but never wanting to let go. It’s wanting to just hold you when we’re in bed, not wanting to let you get up in the morning. I’m so fucking in love with you, and I have been for months now,” Daveed said, cupping your face. “I don’t want you with anyone else. You’re mine.”
“Wait, what?” You didn’t know how to process everything he just told you. You needed a second for it to register, and just as Daveed was about to speak again, you cut him off, pulling him down for a kiss. You didn’t know how to explain it, but this one was different from all the other times you’d kissed him, even from the first one. When you pulled back, you smiled at him. “You’re so sappy.”
“What, did you need time to load?” Daveed teased.
“Well, yeah. I didn’t exactly expect to get a confession from the guy I’ve been silently pining over for way too long now,” you admitted, pulling him back down for another kiss. You almost got upset with the little smile you could feel against your lips, but there were more pressing matters at hand. You broke the kiss again, pleased at the way he seemed to chase your lips. “Now, uh, what was it you told Michael? I was gonna get fucked until I can’t walk tomorrow?”
You could immediately see the change in him, a wicked smile growing on his lips. “You wanna play that game, baby girl?”
You nodded, biting your lip as the air around you seemed to change. The tension from before was back, but instead of the unbearable silence that plagued you on the ride back to his place, it was laced with anticipation. Daveed pulled you back in, one hand on the nape of your neck to hold you to him. His other hand started roaming, tracing lightly along your side before settling on your hip. When he was sure you wouldn’t break the kiss, he brought his other hand down. He bent down slightly, hands moving to your thighs. He pulled back for a breath before giving you a simple demand. “Jump.”
You did as he said, jumping just enough for him to wrap your legs around his waist. He started walking to his bedroom, distracting you with kisses and nips to your neck. The first night you guys spent together, you’d set up some ground rules to not get caught, the first one being absolutely no marks that couldn’t be hidden. That rule seemed to go out the window now that there was nothing to hide. A small whimper escaped you at the mark he was sucking high on your neck, not used to the sensation there.
His distraction worked; before you knew it, he was placing you on the edge of his bed. As soon as his hands were free from carrying you, they went to the front of your shirt, unbuttoning it with practiced ease. His lips followed his hands, kissing down your front. He ended up kneeled between your legs, letting your shirt fall open and frame your figure. “Talk to me, baby girl. What’s the safe word?”
“Red, and yellow if I need a second,” you recited. Just the fact that Daveed made sure to do the check in meant you were in for it, and you couldn’t be more excited.
“Good girl.” You barely had a second to process his words before he pressed up to kiss you, pushing your shirt off of your shoulders. Your bra was quick to follow, and once your top was exposed, Daveed pushed you to lay on your back. He planted his arm beside your head, caging you in as he lowered his body to yours. The kiss would break for a second just to let you get more air before he reclaimed your lips, and as much as you loved kissing Daveed, you needed more. You knew this was all part of his teasing, and as much as you were normally a brat, you needed him.
“Please,” you whimpered out, rolling your hips against his. You could feel his arousal so close to where you needed him, separated only by a few layers of clothes.
“Please what, baby?” You couldn’t see his smirk, but you knew it was there.
“Touch me.”
“I’m already touching you, isn’t this enough? If you’re gonna be greedy, you gotta tell me what you want.” Against his words, he started trailing his free hand down the side of your face, down your neck, down, down, down, stopping right at your waistband. He pressed his lips to your neck, letting you feel his smile. “What do you want, baby girl?”
“Daveed, fuck, please. I want you to fuck me,” you said, trying to grind into him again. His hand at your waistband held down your hips, not letting you have any room for movement. He sat back on his knees, looking down at you.
“There you go, baby. All you had to do was ask.” He undid your pants, the sound of the zipper seeming to echo in the room as he slowly pulled it down. You wanted to complain about him still teasing, but you knew you wouldn’t get what you wanted if you did. He pulled your pants down and off, you lifting your hips to help ease the way. You reached down to remove your panties, just wanting the job to be done already, but Daveed gently smacked your hands away. “No. I wanna take a bit to look at you, all gorgeous and needy.”
“Stop teasing,” you whined.
“Normally you’re such a brat. What happened?” Daveed asked, still teasing. His hand toyed at the hem of your panties, the slight touch enough to make you shiver.
“I thought you like when I listen to you,” you shot back, finally moving to sit up. You liked his little games, but you were starting to get tired of it. You needed him to touch you, actually touch you, and if he kept going like this, it was going to take forever. Before he could say whatever smart ass remark he was going to, you pulled him by his shirt into a deep kiss. You broke the kiss for a second, starting to tug off his shirt. It didn’t take more than a second for him to realize what you wanted, quickly taking it off. You went back to work, not wanting to give up the slight bit of control you had gained.
You moved your kisses down his neck, wanting to leave some marks of your own. As your hand trailed down to palm his erection through his sweats, he grabbed the back of your hair, forcing you to look at him. His pupils were lust blown, he was panting slightly, and he looked like he was seconds away from losing it. You had the feeling you didn’t look much better. “Nuh uh, baby. Did you forget who’s in charge here?”
“It’s gonna be me if you don’t hurry up,” you challenged. You inhaled sharply when the hand in your hair tightened its hold, but you kept your eyes locked with his.
“There’s the brat I love,” he said with a small huff of amusement, trying not to smile. He moved you back to lay down, finally touching you where you needed him, even if it was still over your panties. “You know how I know you like these little games? You always get so fucking wet for me.”
Daveed pressed one more kiss to your lips before settling between your thighs, pulling your panties off and tossing them somewhere to the side. You leaned back on your elbows, wanting to watch his next moves. He kissed your inner thigh, making your breath hitch as the simple touch lit up your nerves. You could tell he was leaving more marks as he kissed and nipped on the soft skin, not even really registering his hand moving between your legs until you jolted at the slight pressure on your clit.
Daveed moved his attention to your other thigh, repeating the motions as his thumb lazily rubbed over your clit. Your thighs tried to close on their own, only to be met by a sharp bite. Breathy whines and moans escaped your lips, your head rolling back as Daveed took his time. As much as you were expecting him to take you rough and make you beg until you were crying, this slow build up was an entirely different kind of torture. When his fingers finally teased between your folds, guiding the way for his tongue, you couldn’t help your high whine of please.
He took mercy on you, his tongue teasing your entrance before settling on tracing patterns over your clit. While his mouth worked on your clit, he eased two fingers into you, your arousal making it easy for him. Your hips bucked at the slight burn, but the way he dragged his fingertips along your walls quickly replaced the feeling. Daveed knew exactly how to take you apart, watching your reactions for the slightest changes. Just as your thighs started to quiver, the pool of arousal in you getting to just this side of too much, Daveed pulled away.
“You fucking-”
“Watch what you’re gonna say to me, baby girl. You’re already on thin fucking ice,” he warned, getting up to take off his sweats. Even though you knew he wouldn’t be gone for long, you missed his touch on you. Not that you were gonna let him know that.
“You asshole, I was almost there.” You bit your lip, barely hiding the gasp that threatened to escape you at the smack he gave to your thigh. The skin stung, but the prickling of pleasure was always enough to overwhelm it.
“I know, sweetheart.” He gave you a wicked smile as he took his place between your thighs again, resting his length against where you needed him. You didn’t even realize you whimpered at the feeling until his thumb started rubbing circles into your thigh. “Aw, someone’s needy. I only want you cumming around me when I say you can, understand?”
You nodded, but Daveed just shook his head, the little pout on his lips mocking you. “Nuh uh, baby girl. Use your words and then I can fuck you the way you want, okay?”
“Yes, I understand,” you finally said, voice smaller than you would’ve liked. You rolled your hips up, trying to feel more of him. Daveed’s hand tightened on your thigh, hard enough that you were sure you were going to have finger-shaped bruises there in the morning. “Now can you please just hurry up and-”
You cut yourself off with a whine as Daveed ran the tip through your folds, collecting your wetness before teasing the head over your entrance. His little self-satisfied smile as he slowly pushed into you was annoying, but you had better things to focus on. He pulled you closer to him, thumb rubbing circles on your thigh yet again as he rolled his hips a few times. As much as he talked about ruining you, you could always tell there was a slight hesitation before he really got into it. You loved his concern, but he did have a promise to keep. His thrusts were still slow and controlled, so you decided to give him some motivation.
“I know you can go harder than that. You know, I bet Michael would-” This time you were cut off by Daveed’s hand on your throat. You looked up, a small smile gracing your lips at finally getting what you wanted, only to falter a bit at the hard look Daveed was giving you.
“Michael wouldn’t do shit,” Daveed said, finally thrusting into you harder. You knew you shouldn’t be as smug about it as you were, but you were thriving. This was what you’d been waiting for. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands fisted in the blanket. Just as you were starting to get comfortable, enjoying the ride, Daveed forced your leg over his shoulder, driving his length deeper into you. “He wouldn’t know how to fuck you like I do. Even if you went to him, you’d be thinking of me. You and this pussy belong. To. Me.”
Daveed punctuated each word with a rough thrust of his hips, making you see stars. You were babbling at this point, whines and moans mixing with your pleas for more. Daveed’s hand rested on your throat, not quite choking you but acting as a reminder to watch yourself. He was treating you with the roughness you craved, and you could feel yourself getting closer as he went on. You didn’t know if you were the one that moved or it was him, but he hit that spot. That spot that had your vision edging with white, that had you yelling out as you came hard, not even bothering to ask permission. Instead of letting you ride it through like he normally did, Daveed pulled out of you, dropping your leg from his shoulder.
“Wha- why’d you stop?!” You cried out even as Daveed flipped you over to your stomach. He pulled your hips up, arching your back for him before laying a hard smack on your ass.
“Did you ask?” Daveed demanded, smacking the same spot.
“What?”
“What, you get fucked a little and forget your manners?” It finally clicked for you, a little embarrassed that Daveed had to point it out like that. Normally, you’d be apologetic, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care at the moment. You just wanted Daveed to keep fucking you, you could deal with the consequences later. You tried rolling your hips back to his, but his hands kept a tight hold on your hips.
“I’m sorry,” you whined, still not meaning it. “Please.”
Daveed huffed out a little laugh, but when you tried turning your head to look at him, his hand fisted in your hair, pushing your head down into the pillows. You would have complained, but the feeling of him sliding back into you cleared your mind of anything other than him. He was quick to go back to his fast pace, holding your head down to keep you in place. “Don’t know why I fucking asked for an apology, I know you don’t mean it. You just want me to fucking ruin you.”
You couldn’t do anything but whimper at his harsh tone, trying to fuck yourself back on him. But no, he controlled the pace, he controlled your pleasure. You were his. All you could do was take it, trying not to repeat your mistake from earlier. Time seemed to fade away as the sound is his hips against yours, your muffled moans and whines, his small grunts and praise filled the room. It wasn’t until Daveed finally let go of your hair to rub at your clit instead that you could tell he was getting close. His thrusts started getting sloppy and you could feel the build up inside of you yet again.
“Please, baby,” you whined, the two words already being a struggle. You’d hoped it would be enough, but of course it wasn’t.
“You gotta say it, baby girl,” he said, voice slightly strained from how close he was.
“Please let me cum, I wanna cum so bad, please baby please,” you kept going, only able to repeat please, baby until he finally took mercy on you. You were trying your hardest to be good, needing to be good for him, but you didn’t know how long you could keep this going.
“Fuck, such a good girl. Cum for me baby, I wanna feel you.” His permission was all you needed, your orgasm hitting you as soon as you had it. Your legs shook, nerves sensitive as Daveed chased his own release, making you cry out into the room. Daveed followed soon after, pushing deep in you as he called your name in a delicious groan.
The quiet that followed was new, your heavy breathing the only noise breaking the silence. Daveed stayed for a few seconds before slowly pulling out, making you whimper at the sensitivity. You let your hips fall, content to just stay there laying on your stomach, but Daveed had other ideas, rolling you onto your side so he could pull you into his arms.
“Hey,” he said in a near whisper, a little smile on his face as he looked down at you.
“Hey,” you said with a smile of your own. The moment was a bit cheesy, but it made you feel warm inside.
“So, how was that?”
“I mean, it was different.”
“Different good or?”
“Yeah, but just different. Like, knowing that you’re in love with me or whatever.”
“Don’t ‘or whatever’ that! Every time we’ve fucked before I’ve been in love with you,” Daveed seemed to add that last part as an afterthought. Thinking the conversation was done, you started to get up only to be pulled back to the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To go shower?” You looked at Daveed, tilting your head slightly. You were met by a hungry look, immediately sending a shiver through you.
“We’re not done yet, baby girl.”
**********
Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299
210 notes
·
View notes
Text
hoshiumi + hinata asking for piggy backs from their taller s/o
( thank you @redsharksimp for the excuse to write the little giant. i love him. i think we’d get along; small bodies + big mouths. i’ll also be writing a series with him eventually, noticed he’s not written about often. )
hoshiumi
this ace has a talent for doing everything but asking for permission to climb you like a jungle gym. he loves taller surfaces and often lingers around them, hoping you’ll come nearby so he has an excuse to jump up on tables, bleachers and even steps and eventually, onto you.
for someone with such a loud presence, korai can be remarkably covert about his intentions. he’s subtle. the concern that a 5′6″ ace might somehow navigate his way onto your back is the farthest thing from your mind.
hoshiumi practically lives on your back. it’s become so routine that if no one can find him sprinting around the campus, best chances of locating the ace is you; stuck like a koala bear, hiding his features in the curve of your neck. his nose tickles your sensitive skin, when you whine at him to stop nuzzling you, he only proceeds by burying his face into your shoulder, emphasizing your purpose as an impromptu nap spot. on several occasions he’s fallen asleep to the rocking of your strides, his chin propped on your shoulder, making little sounds.
after intense games, this tiny giant is quickly curling around you like he belongs nestled against your spine. at first it was slightly annoying but the behavior that once made you swat him away now had you begging him to climb aboard.
you dropped korai once, it was his own fault. you would have thought you two were strangers with how he evaded you effortlessly. his pride was bruised, glacial orbs staring at drywall when you tried to speak to him. you grew tired of the act quickly and rolled your eyes, “i’ll carry you around the campus if you just talk to me korai-chan.”
“that’s just an excuse to drop me again!” he pouts and crosses his arms.
you pivot on your heel, intentions clear. korai’s brows furrow together, lips pressed together tightly. you’re doing two things simultaneously; ignoring him and tempting him. whether that was your actual intention he’d never know because he’s already chasing after you, hands slithering around your waist, “i’m sorry. don’t go.” you’re exceptionally patient and considerate and korai wouldn’t trade you for the world.
someone on the team once called him a human-backpack and hacked into his social media, changing all his usernames to that clever handle. you had the “human-backpack” putting everyone he knew on blast for three hours after realizing his name was changed. needless to say he was a little passive when it came to getting affection but that didn’t last very long, he missed seeing the world from your shoulders.
hinata
you would spend hours with your little piece of sunshine attending practice, watching, recording him, he looks great on camera, very photogenic and those playback spikes? oof
despite all of shoyo’s energy, studying and sleeping became a bit of an issue with some changes in the practice schedule and when you weren’t around to help him fall asleep, he spent the night tossing and turning. you noticed his performance change and not entirely for the better. one night after a routine practice, he stumbles over his backpack and skins his shin. under your orders, he was not to bike home over that ridiculous mountain. He whined about your resistance and eventually slumped over on the floor, at a loss for how to navigate the piling stress upon his shoulders.
it wasn’t out of the ordinary when you offered to give him a piggyback home; your relationship was slowly reaching new territories and that included selfish acts such as this. despite some protest, he eventually gives in.
this is how it all really began. sometimes he would counter your offer and argue that it was unnecessary to do something like this, to voluntarily carry your boyfriend up over a mountain. you tut at him, finger wagging, “even birds have to rest sometime shoyo-kun, even great eagles.” the decoy’s lips part to retaliate but your logic is flawless and your tone kind. shoyo would do anything for you, so he agrees. to placate him further, you added it was also for your own sake to build leg muscle.
shoyo climes on your back and eventually treats the hood of your sweater as nest, nuzzling into the fabric. the walk isn’t long and the rhythm of your long even strides up the pavement lulls him into a drowsy state. the fine coordination between his brain and his mouth dissipates as the future ace gently makes sleepy noises close to your ear. it’s very cute and touching.
to avoid a puddle you shuffle like a crab close to the road, disturbing the faint slumber shoyo eventually fell under. “huh?”
“go back to sleep shoyo, we’re almost there.”
“nah, i can stay awake.”
you shake your head softly, moved by his loyalty and compassion. “alright then sho, tell me what stars you see.”
hinata’s slender arms wrap around your neck, careful not to apply pressure on your throat. “hhhh...that’s….orion…” his voice sounds hesitant, distant as it fades into the night. “right?” you feel your face grow hot as shoyo presses his cheek against your ear, ruffled hair intertwining with yours by the breeze of the wind as you reach the summit of your path. glancing up at the starry ether, a smile weaves into your lips.
“yea, it is. i don’t often see it in the winter but i’m glad i can see it now.”
“you know, after practice i’m usually concentrating on my plays and the dinner i have to eat and everything i need to do to prepare for tomorrow...but with you, y/n.i can enjoy the stars.”
“you’ll reach em too baby.” hinata presses a kiss to your temple and squeezes you with his smaller body.
outside of practices and walking home together, shoyo really enjoys taking pictures of you two in matching outfits with him on your back. you have an entire album of 100+ pictures of you two sporting the same wide smile and sparkly eyed expressions.
hinata loves speed, so of course he’s going to challenge nishinoya to a piggy-back race. your naturally long strides make you good competition against asahi. the only job hinata has is to not fall off.
he still does but never blames you. he’s laughing down at your feet, giggling about how your hair was getting in the way of his sight.
eventually you need a break, it’s not easy carrying around your boyfriend and he has two perfectly functioning legs!
he kisses you all the time and loves to crawl in your lap when he manages to get you to sit down. you’re his favorite spot
#hinata imagine#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader#haikyu headcanons#haikyū!!#hinata x reader#hinata haikyuu#hq hoshiumi#hoshiumi x you#hoshiumi x reader#hoshiumi x y/n#msby black jackal#msby scenarios#schweiden adlers#haikyuu adlers#msby vs adlers#haikyu fluff#hinata fluff#hqcafenet#haikyutiehoe#daichi x y/n#sugawara x y/n#oikawa x y/n#atsumu x reader#kuroo x reader#kageyama#kenma x y/n#oikawa x reader#😼#osamu headcanons
87 notes
·
View notes
Text
tidal // steve rogers 🌊
↳ summary: tony doesn’t trust his kid and steve has to play mediator, although those duties don’t come without a reward
↳ relationship: dad’s best friend!steve rogers x stark!reader
↳ request: steve defending his soft girl when she starts crying when someone yelled at her...maybe she thanks him by putting her mouth to good use @donutloverxo + what about dad’sbestfriend!steve x reader?...I need me some Steve please!! (anon)
↳ word count: 5.4k (this has no business being this long)
↳ warnings: angst, smut, dirty talk, slight degradation, some light fluff kinda
↳ author’s note: i do love a stark!reader so this was so much fun for me - enjoy my loves! x
The relationship that you have with your father is complicated. It reminds you acutely of the foamy sea that you used to tentatively wade in and simply stare at with a wide-eyed, childlike fascination when your parents took you to the Maldives or Seychelles or Ivory Coast, each summer a different place and a different tide. There’s a sense of predictability to it, a routine you have in a language that is understandable to nobody but the two of you. He pushes and you pull, coordinating your movements in a choreographed dance so as to safely row your canoe filled to the brim with trust and love through the rocky seas of life.
He’s made a mark on you that will always be a permanent imprint on your soul much like the way that water stains the surface of the sand but it’s not as if you perceive that as something negative. You attribute the best parts of yourself to your mother and father and although their DNA isn’t housed inside your body, you’re more Tony’s child than he could have ever asked for. He hears so much of him in the tone of your voice and sees Pepper whenever you cross your arms over your chest and pin him with a look he knows too well - her influence is all over your mannerisms - and the both of them in the charming brightness of your smile when you let yourself laugh freely.
The moment he saw you, barely hours old and sleeping deeply - something that he found out that you would carry with you throughout your years - he’d thought you were cute (all babies are cute and the hundreds of other babies he’d seen in the past few weeks were also cute). But when you’d instinctively gripped Pepper’s finger tightly in your impossibly tiny fist and blinked awake sleepily, he’d fallen in love with your pretty eyes first, the way that you stared through him like you already knew him and it was then that he knew you were his as much as he was yours.
Of course, things weren’t- aren’t always as picture-perfect as they seem. He knows that there are days when you haunt his nightmares, dreams where he can’t protect you plaguing his conscience and causing him to crowd you with what he thinks is love. Rather, it’s an overbearing and often patronizing kind of attention that feels like a thousand sharp needles piercing through your skin. You’re very in touch with your emotions, a quality about you that Tony is sure that you must’ve learned from your mother, while he has the tendency to avoid sentimentality like it’s a disease and that’s where those arguments start, the ones that flare up and spread like forest fires.
In fact, you’re having one of them now. Tony knew how this was going to end before it even began but he can’t help but always engage because he’s as stubborn as he raised you to be. His jaw is set and his nostrils flaring as he stares at you - you’re his progeny, his baby, half of his heart who is standing in that way that reminds him of his wife with crystals in your eyes that make him wonder if you ever wear that diamond necklace he bought you last year.
“You never take me seriously,” you accuse, narrowing your eyes at him which causes a fat teardrop to spill over and run down your cheek. His eyes soften briefly at the sight of your emotional state before he looks away, the painful tugging at his heart trying to pull him towards you. He won’t give in to it: that’ll mean you win. “See - you can’t even look at me, Dad-”
“Sweetheart, I take you plenty seriously,” Tony gnaws on the end of the pen in his mouth, still sitting in front of the holograms of all of the data he’s been trying to process for the past few hours. His feet are propped up on the table, casually crossed at the ankles and shoulders completely relaxed, leaning back in his chair and balancing precariously one of the wheels, sitting in the exact same way that he always told you not to. He taps out a rhythmic beat against his leg with his fingers, eyes darting around the room as he pretends to be interested in everything but you.
His entire posture radiates the feeling that he doesn’t give a shit about you or what you have to say and it makes your heart sink to your stomach despite the fact that you know this man. You know that he’s just putting on a front and he’s really listening because he was the one who drilled into your head that you always have something to say that’s worth listening to. Yet you cannot for the life of you accept that this man in front of you is acting so coldly when his own daughter is trying to tell him how she feels.
The scoff that comes out of your mouth is involuntary and Tony can’t fight the twitch of his lips because it sounds so much like him, but he only lets it linger for half a second, not allowing you to see how affected he is. Both him and Pepper were under the impression that once they had kids, Tony would finally take the steps towards being willing to share more of himself with the people around him. And he did, for a while. But once you hit those teenage years, he was forced to come to terms with the fact that you wouldn’t be his baby forever - you’d grow up and think your own thoughts and breathe your own air in an environment that he hasn’t polluted with his own ideals.
His heart beat out of his chest every time he thought about it and he had to face the facts: he was scared. And so he went on the defensive, coddling you and trying to shield you from the harsh realities of the world that he had to face from such a young age. Unfortunately for the both of you, you didn’t appreciate being spoon-fed by your parents your whole life: you have a sense of maturity and independence that Tony is terrified of and it manifested itself in rebellion, a phase in your adolescence hat had almost gotten cost you your life in more situations than he cared to admit.
“I’m not kidding, Dad,” you reply, your head feeling as if it’s under construction because the unbearably loud banging on the inside of your brain is driving you crazy because he’s deflecting and you know it. A river of tears slide their way down to your chin and you don’t even bother to wipe them. “And you keep making jokes like this isn’t serious-”
“I haven’t been making jokes,” Tony points out calmly, playing around with a bunch of numbers that don’t mean anything to you and distractedly manoeuvering some stupid data table that is somehow more interesting than his own child.
As much as you try, you genuinely can’t help it when you stomp your foot, the loud noise breaking through Tony’s nonchalance and causing him to arch an eyebrow at you.
“This isn’t some temper tantrum, Dad,” you tell him, the strength in your voice breaking down and causing it to crack. Your hands come up to clutch your head tightly in a futile attempt to bring yourself back to Earth, tired of the way that your emotions throw your brain into orbit. Your feet are on the ground but it doesn’t feel like it, your rage burning your skin and setting a bonfire in the depths of your body. “You fight me on everything - first it was college then it was working for S.I then it was becoming an Avenger… you think I’m still some little kid-”
“Because you’ve proven time after time that you can’t fend for yourself,” Tony cocks his head as your eyes lock, daring you to challenge him on his statement because the two of you know how much validity it holds.
“That was one time!-”
Tony sighs, shaking his head in what you assume is disappointment and while in any other scenario your heart would’ve sunk, this time it stays where it’s been for the past ten minutes, perishing in the flames licking the sides of your stomach. He gathers some of his papers and tucks the pen in his mouth behind his ear before he starts to make his way to the door, leaving you to stare at his back as his hand drops on the handle and he addresses you again. “One time that you could’ve gotten killed, Y/N, so we’re not doing this today-”
“You know what, Tony?”
You’ve never called him that before - not even when you’re in large crowds and everyone seems to be yelling Dad! - and you know it’s vindictive and a step too far but it’s exhausting being treated like a helpless child. This has the desired effect, freezing him in his tracks and as he turns on his heel, you know that you may have crossed a line but you can’t bring yourself to care because your fury has consumed your whole body and the heat is boiling the blood running through your veins.
“What did you just call me?”
“Anthony,” you inform him matter-of-factly, hands on your hips while the hardness of his eyes halts your racing blood flow, the iciness freezing your bones while hot rage seeps out of every single one of his pores so palpably that you can almost see the steam spilling out of his ears. “You can fuck right off until you decide that I can be trusted enough to make decisions for myself and you know what else? You can-”
“Hey, hey, what’s going on in here?”
You bite back your next words as soon as that rich timbre caresses your ears and the rigid posture of your body begins to slowly melt at the sound. You don’t even have to look behind you to know that it’s your dad’s best friend - ever the hero - coming to diffuse the ticking time bomb that is this argument between you and your father.
“This isn’t your battle to fight, Rogers,” Tony doesn’t peel his eyes off of you at all, not even sparing his friend a glance.
And as much as you don’t like Tony at the moment, you can’t help but agree with him.
“Steve, he’s right,” you tear your eyes away from your dad, turning around so that you can glance over at the golden man whose presence alone has wrapped you in a comforting safety blanket that already makes you want to stand down.
“No, neither of you are,” his blond hair is pushed back away from his face and you’re momentarily distracted by the hard lines of his jaw and the thick beard that covers them. He’s speaking in that same low voice that he uses to rally the Avengers when he’s clad in red, white, and blue, and you have to discreetly squeeze your thighs together at the sound.
The rational part of your brain knows that this is not the time to be ogling your dad’s best friend but you can’t help the way that your heart starts beating double time when he enters a room and how his warm gaze sets your entire body alight, not unlike the way that your unbridled anger is making you feel right now; the only difference is that Steve triggers a deep desire for something unknown tucked away so secretly that it only awakened when you met him.
But you know he’d never do that to Tony - shit, you don’t know if he’s still holding a candle for a love once lost all those years ago and frankly, you don’t want to risk embarrassing yourself by feeling the poison sting of rejection dealt from the sickeningly sweet lips of America’s apple pie. The lethal mix of sugar and malice would only rot your heart and you don’t know that you could survive the decay.
“In fact, both of you are acting like children,” he booms, his hands landing on his hips while he shakes his head disbelievingly at your familial dispute. Steve opens his mouth as if he’s about to continue, but Tony simply holds a hand up and it almost immediately shushes the supersoldier.
“No need, Capiscle,” Tony cocks his head to the side almost mockingly, his eyes still glued resolutely on your wet face. “I just wanna say this: if you are going to be so ungrateful of everything that your mother and I have sacrificed for you, then you can get the fuck out of my house. You have no idea what we’ve had to go through just so that you can live a safe, healthy lifestyle in which you don’t have to want for anything. The fact that you have the audacity to speak to me like that is a testament to how much we’ve failed as parents because you are the fruit of all of our labor: a spoiled little brat with no conception of the real world because everything revolves around you, doesn’t it princess?”
He spits the endearment out and you can only assume that it is because it has left as bitter a taste in his mouth as it has yours. Throughout his heated rant, your hands started shaking and at first, you couldn’t figure out why but you soon realized that it’s because Tony’s never yelled at you like that before. He barely even raises his voice at you because he’s never wanted to be anything like Howard but today, it seems as if he could no longer contain all of the pent up frustration that he’s had with you that has been building for years.
And because of this, you’ve been rendered speechless with no visible emotion on your face save from the seemingly endless stream of tears that spill from your glassy eyes. You don’t know what hurts more: his words or the fact that he’s still staring at you like a stranger.
“Tony, that’s enough,” Steve intervenes when the silence between the three of you stretches on for what feels like an eternity. He positions his body so that he’s blocking you from your father’s cold stare. “I’m not gonna let you talk to her like that-”
“Oh, come on, Cap,” Tony scoffs and you don’t have to be able to see him to know that he’s folded his arms over his chest. “You don’t even know what-”
“And I don’t need to know,” the broad man in front of you interrupts him loudly and you can do nothing but watch the altercation happen because even if you tried, you can’t pick your feet up off the floor. “Whatever she’s done or said to you doesn’t warrant you speaking to her like that. You’ve fought her at every corner, what do you expect? For her to just lie down and take it? She’s your daughter: you should know as well as I do that she’s as hard-headed as you. You need to take a step back and stop being a backseat driver - she’s an adult now and can make her own choices, Tony.”
And with that, Steve circles an arm around you and lifts you up into his arms, his waist trapped between your legs and your arms gripping his neck. A moment passes when Steve breezes past Tony where your gazes meet and the usual sweetness of his hazelnut eyes has turned bitter with guilt and resentment. You avert your stare as quickly as you can to bury your face in Steve’s muscled shoulder and as your cheek rests on it, you’re reminded all too vividly of the way that Bucky or Sam or Steve (or your dad) used to carry you to bed when you had fallen asleep between the pages of your textbook or face down next to a cold bowl of whatever Pepper had cooked for you that night.
Really, you’re almost convinced that you must’ve dozed off during the short trip from Tony’s lab to your bedroom because when you finally snap back to attention, you’re still in Steve’s arms but he’s standing still in front of your bed. And neither of you say anything for some time, letting the moment breathe while Steve soothes you silently, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your spine as quiet sobs wrack your shaking body.
“Hey, hey,” he hushes you, eventually sliding you down his body and placing you on the bed. You’re sure that your face still reflects your previous mental state but you feel significantly better now, the hive of bees that were slamming at the insides of your heart have tired both you and themselves out and are now resting. You look up at Steve with wide eyes, wet lashes brushing your skin lightly as his baby blues drill into yours so deeply that you’re sure that he must be able to see inside your head by now. “I’m not gonna ask if you’re okay because the answer seems kind of obvious, but I will ask if you need anything?”
You hesitate before giving him an answer, torn between confessing those powerful feelings for him that you’ve tried so hard to repress and letting him go. Instead, you grab one of his hands between both of yours, tugging on it so that he kneels in front of you.
“You didn’t have to do that for me back there,” your eyes flick up to his quickly and you can’t help it when you start to play with his fingers, consciously having to stop your mind from wandering to unsavory places. “I-I know you and my dad are, like, best friends, so I never would’ve asked you to put your friendship at risk and stand up for me like that… it was, uh- it was really sweet of you, Steve, so thank you-”
Steve jerks his head back and for a tense second, your heart drops because you’re sure that you’ve offended him but then he says:
“Y/N, you don’t have to thank me- not at all, I mean- it was the human thing to do,” Steve insists, forcefully grasping your chin in his large hand to make him look at you. The disbelief that sparkles in his eyes lights up your soul and makes a shy smile spread across your lips.
He leans in to plant a chaste kiss on your cheek like he usually does, but you decide there and then that you really are tired of having your dad take the reigns from you every day. You want to be able to confidently grab life by its metaphorical balls and take a leap of faith off of what is admittedly a very steep cliff. So you grip his face between your hands and redirect his lips to your own.
He’s completely unresponsive for several seconds, causing a scorching hot wave of embarrassment to flood your face - a part of you wants to hold out hope and pray that maybe he’s just shocked by your bold move but you’ve learned not to cling onto unrealistic expectations so you move back, eyes squeezed shut because you can already taste the sourness of rejection on your tongue.
But he knocks all of the breath out of your body when he climbs on top of you and crashes his lips back on yours, cradling your face between his wide palms as he slides his tongue into your mouth. It’s messy and raw as your teeth clash with his almost violently but the feeling of his soft lips on yours soothes that ache, their warmth curing the hurt in your heart. He swallows any breath you have left in your lungs as your lips move in tandem with his.
When you pull away because you think you’re about to suffocate, Steve presses his lips down the column of your neck, sucking a bruise right underneath your ear and playfully biting your earlobe. The rough sensation of his thick beard on your sensitive skin makes you giggle breathlessly and your chest heaves as his hands move smoothly down to your waist, hooking his thumbs in the waistband on your shorts.
But then his hands stop moving and you look at him with confusion written all over your face. He lowers his head to your abdomen, resting his forehead on your stomach and your hand instinctively weaves through the golden strands of his hair.
“Steve?-”
“You want this, sweetheart?” he kisses your stomach and moves right in between your legs, looking up at you as his thumbs still toy with the stretchy material of your black shorts.
“Of course-”
And you don’t get to finish your sentence because you gasp as Steve whips off your shorts with unprecedented speed. He takes your panties right with them, throwing them somewhere to the side - you don’t care to notice where because Steve’s eyes are more black than blue and his gaze is locked on your core.
This is when you get an idea.
When you take your t-shirt off, you’re only left in the black bralette that you normally wear around the house, so you whip that off too without any preamble. Steve’s eyes are so focused on the bounce of your breasts that it gives you the opportunity to muster up all of the energy you can, locking your legs around Steve’s waist (your eyes can’t help but travel to the obvious bulge in his blue jeans) and flip him over so that you’re sitting right on top of his erection.
“Wh-”
You shush him, pulling at the bottom of his shirt so that he gets the message to take it off. He does as he’s told but narrows his eyes at you. You almost don’t notice because you’re staring at the glorious expanse of his sculpted upper body. You’ve always thought that he looked like a Greek statue and right now, the way that the sunlight streaming through your window bounces off of his smooth skin and brings out the green in his eyes only emphasizes the fact that he’s a true work of art, a masterpiece in his own right.
Pushing yourself up so that you’re nose to nose with the supersoldier on his back underneath you, you lean down just enough so that your lips ghost over his when you speak.
“I’m supposed to be thanking you,” you press your lips against his momentarily, watching the way that his eyelashes flutter when you slowly slide your hand down his powerful chest, over his muscled stomach and down to his jeans-clad crotch to boldly palm his dick.
“Honey, you don’t have to-”
You cut him off with another quick kiss, moving down his body with the grace of a trained dancer (you can thank your mom for over ten years of ballet) so that you can unbuckle the black belt at his narrow waist. Steve props himself up on his forearms, staring down at you with hooded eyes and your eyes keenly follow the swipe of his tongue over his cotton candy lips.
You take your time pulling his zipper down, noticing how his eyes follow the movement of your hands as you push his jeans down his thick thighs. Your mouth is close to watering at the sight of his white Calvins which are very obviously tented in the front and you snap the elastic band of his boxer briefs playfully before pulling them over his erection.
It’s impossible to stop the way that your eyes grow comically large at the size of his cock, something at the back of your mind wondering whether or not you’ll be able to fully take him down your throat. He’s heavy in the both of your hands, the tip flushed red and leaking pre-cum.
But it’s the cocky little smirk on Steve’s face that steels your resolve.
“What’s wrong, baby? Too big for you?” he teases you in a surprisingly steady voice, inhaling again to continue his jeering, but his head falls back and his breath audibly stutters because you flatten your tongue and lick a broad stripe up the underside of his dick.
“You were saying?” you taunt right back, a smile of your own gracing your face. He doesn’t have a reply to that, instead moving his hand down to grip the back of your neck tightly, guiding you back down to his cock.
The tip of your tongue swirls around the head of his length before you take the bulbous tip between your lips, sucking lightly and enjoying the way that his blunt fingernails are stabbing into the skin of your neck. You don’t tease him for much longer, one hand on the base of his manhood while you relax your throat and attempt to take all of him in your mouth. Your fight your gag reflex tooth and nail, reveling in the quiet sighs and moans from the man above you.
What you can’t swallow you work with your hand, your other hand coming up to toy with his balls and roll them between your fingers and palm. He controls the speed at which you bob up and down his cock and you keep watching the array of emotions on his face, feeling the power and control that you have over him surge through your body.
“God, doll,” he groans, his lower lip between his perfect teeth. “You’re such a good girl, takin’ all of me like that.”
His words spur you on and you really push your boundaries by taking him all the way down, so close that your nose is being tickled by the dark blond hairs at the base of his cock. What you’re not expecting is the way that Steve applies pressure to the back of your neck that’s just enough so that you can’t move. Your eyes sting as he keeps your head down, making you swallow and choke as small tears leak from your eyes. You’re forced to breathe through your nose as Steve groans when your gag reflex kicks in, your throat constricting around the heavy weight of his dick.
“Such a good little slut, huh?” he smirks, running the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby, suckin’ your dad’s friend off like a little fuckin’ whore.”
You can’t help the way that a loud moan falls from your lips, though it’s almost entirely muted by the thick cock in your mouth.
“Oh, you like that?” Steve’s confidence is only making you wetter. He eases up on your neck, allowing you to withdraw about an inch before he pushes you back down. “You like being called a slut, pretty girl?”
You nod as best as you can under the circumstances, fighting back another moan.
“That’s good, honey, because you’re gonna be my little cockslut from now on, hmm?”
And finally, he pulls you off of him completely, reveling in the way that your eyes are glossy with tears and your lungs gulp down huge breaths as thin strings of saliva hang from your lips.
“Messy girl,” Steve reprimands you condescendingly, but his voice sounds strained and he looks like he could cum just from drinking in your disheveled state. “You’re gorgeous, doll.”
You can’t stop the smile that grows on your face at the praise, and Steve cups your face gently and leans in to give you a sweet kiss.
“You gonna let me cum in your mouth, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your lips, nudging your nose with his.
“Yes, sir,” you tease playfully, not wasting any more time and wrapping your lips around his dick once again, running the tip of your tongue against the prominent vein down the side while you bob your head up and down. You’re more determined than ever to push him over the edge, wanting to be the one who has complete control over his pleasure.
“That’s it, just like that- shit, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he warns you after he takes your face between both of his hands and fucks your mouth, your jaw relaxed as he uses you to chase his orgasm, eyes closed and head hanging back as he loses himself in the throes of desire.
You bask in the sense of satisfaction that you get from the way that his cock twitches in your mouth and the shout that he gives when the evidence of his release floods your mouth. You happily let it slide down your throat, sucking on his tip lightly as you do. The tangy taste lingers on your tongue and as you pull off of him with a pop, you have to wipe around your mouth because you’re sure that he’s made a complete mess of your face.
“Holy fuck, darlin’,” he heaves, pulling you up to rest against his chest but not before you take the time to admire how beautiful he is. A light pink flush that’s started at his cheeks has traveled down his neck and bloomed on his chest - you love the way that it’s burning the tips of his ears. With your chest pressed against his, he ghosts his fingers up and down your back while his lips press against your shoulder.
“Your dad’s gonna kill me… and I didn’t even get you off, baby,” he mutters, only a second away from pouting and it makes you grin.
“He won’t because he’s not gonna find out… and I didn’t want you to,” you reply simply, lightly circling one of his nipples with the tip of your nail. “Besides, you have plenty of time to do that later.”
Steve readjusts himself so that his back is leaning against the headboard and you’re perched in his lap, straddling his thighs. His brows are knitting together and a frustrated frown mars his pretty face.
“No, I want to,” he insists, warm hands landing on your hips and rocking them back and forth so that your clit catches on the muscles of his legs. You bite your lip so as to suppress a moan. “It wouldn’t be-”
“Y/N, babe, are you in there?”
The two of you still as a knock followed by Tony’s soft voice bleeds through the door.
“Shit,” you curse quietly, scrambling off of Steve and grabbing the nearest article of clothing that you can find.
“I know you don’t wanna talk to me right now, but I don’t wanna leave things like this so I’m comin’ in, sweetie-”
“Dad, no!”
But it’s too late, the door opening just enough to reveal your father’s face whose whiskey eyes immediately land on yours. Thankfully, you were able to pull on Steve’s shirt and your shorts, but you can’t say the same for the six-foot-something supersoldier who has skillfully rolled underneath your bed, still naked as the day he was born.
“What’s going on in here, hon?” Tony quirks an eyebrow at you as he pops his head around the door, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as his eyes scan the room.
“Nothing,” you say breathlessly, running a hand over your face as you silently pray that your dad won’t catch his friend hiding beneath your bed with no clothes on.
“Okay?” he draws out the word, obviously confused as your eyes meet his. “I just wanted to say so-”
“We’ll talk about it later, Dad,” you try to smile and move towards him so that you shoo him away from your room.
“You sure?”
“Positive,” you affirm, putting your hand on top of the one he has wrapped around the side of the door and squeezing it reassuringly.
“If you say so,” Tony lets go of the door, spinning on his heel and starting to stroll down the hall. You let go of the breath that you weren’t aware you were holding. “And give Bucky back his shirt!”
A laugh bubbles up in your chest as your heart warms watching your dad throw a wink at you over his shoulder, knowing that the choppy seas have stilled and the water’s calm once again, the tide returning to its regular routine. You shut the door with a click before turning back to see Steve sitting casually with his back resting against the side of your bed.
“So, uh,” a cheeky smile graces his face. “Same time tomorrow or?”
tagged: @literaturefeen @evnscvll @donutloverxo @stargazingfangirl18
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers blurb#steve rogers blurbs#steve rogers headcanons#steve rogers headcanon#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers imagines#marvel cinematic universe#marvel fanfiction#steve x reader#steve x you#stark!reader
669 notes
·
View notes
Text
Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell!Reader II
Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War
Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell!Reader
Chapter II
Word Count: 3400+
[Chapter I] [Chapter III]
Summary: [Y/N] “Bell” [L/N] was content with dying. Shot by the person whom they admired and left to die, the world was now left in the hands of the team they once thought as family. However, it seems that fate had other plans in mind…
Content Warning: mature content, gore, vulgar language, blood, injuries
Notes: Thank you so much for your comments on the previous chapters! I can’t respond to them but reading them is very heartwarming. This chapter’s a bit short, and if your wondering as to why I chose a certain character over the other, it’s just of preference. Besides, they need more appreciation :)
[Y/N] “Bell” [L/N]
July, 1983
North-West, Soviet Union
The weeks passed without anything new. The weeks eventually turned to a month.
It was during July 1983 that everything changed.
4th of July, actually.
Even if rations were running low, you all managed to pull through eating crackers and pulling eggs from nests. There were a few starving nights, but efforts would often be rewarded through some animal caught in one of the traps.
Today, everything started off as normal. It was usually dark out when you woke up, so you had the daily program of watching the sun rise as you did laps. You engaged in your daily routine of exercise, before spending some time alone at the makeshift practice range. Majority of the time you lay on the ground, staring at the bluish white sky above while trying to wind down from your work out. The snow has long stopped, humidity starting to move in.
Afterwards you walked around the facility until Vadim requested you to check the animal traps on the west side of the base. No strange activity like usual, and the traps were either bare or activated, but with nothing inside. The wildlife around were beginning to play it safe and smart— The bait was always missing now. You covered them with a bunch of twigs and old leaves, making sure it was obvious enough for the group to notice.
You returned to see Artyom working on his new weapon: a bow. He managed to find some old logs previously, in which he spent the next few weeks hacking at it and carving it into shape. It was nearly finished now.
"Nice craftmanship," you remark. The bow was fairly nice and sleek, a light yellowish tan with brown streaks. It was a bit shiny too, which you could only assume he polished with some oil.
"I used to help do woodwork with my wife before the war started," Artyom describes. "Making tables and furniture."
“That so?”
“Yeah. Good business. Handcrafted and original design, you won’t find it elsewhere.”
Vadim strides in mid-conversation, holding a large hare by the ears. A rifle hung over his shoulder. "Got a big one!" he exclaims proudly.
If there was one thing about the seasons changing, at least it brought some more animals around. Even if the animals were getting smarter, there would be at least one unfortunate soul that would be caught.
Vadim headed over to the kitchen area to prepare it for cooking. You watched Artyom test the strength of his bow by pulling the string back, and making any adjustments.
Having nothing else to do, went over to the computer that sat in the corner of the room. It was dingy and yellowing with age already, most likely one of the earlier models that was released. It was surprising to learn that it was still connected to the database, all info easily accessible to you with just a tap of a few keys. The password was no problem for you, as some forgetful person decided to write an obvious hint on a yellow post-it.
The terminal mainly consisted of daily updates, a few logs written by Anton himself. The logs went all the way back, more than a year ago. It was a tad boring, as it mainly talked about the same topic: mission reports, suspicious activity, intercepted communications. Reading through it only reminded you of the time you went to Ukraine with Woods, only to discover about Operation Greenlight. Then it went all downhill from there.
The recorded conversation between Black and Hudson was here as well. Hearing how easily they spoke about it, despite literally placing bombs around Europe as a defensive mechanism was astonishing. You skimmed through other calls, much of them not really catching your attention.
If there was one thing that you didn’t like about this lifestyle currently, it was the days were mundane. You couldn’t even comprehend that you lived at an abandoned base for two years. Even if you wanted to take a joy ride around, any modes of transportation were destroyed when the base was attacked, and there was no way of salvaging any parts.
0000
Night time eventually came after spending your time breezing through the database. Dinner was small, and it would probably be another day or two before any of you could eat again in order to ration. You stared at the ceiling of your white room, following the grooves with your eyes until the lights were shut off. Diverting your attention elsewhere, you started listening to the noise of water dripping from outside the hallway and counted each drop, hoping to lull yourself to sleep.
You were about to hit the two-hundred mark but a loud crash made you lose count.
Shooting up from bed, you sat in the darkness waiting for any other noise to follow up.
It’s probably nothing.
That's what you told yourself, and yet there was an unsettling feeling that you couldn't shake. Your instincts were telling you to get off your ass and investigate it. But you were out in the middle of nowhere at an old, barely operable military base with four Soviets. No one came then, so what are the chances they would come now?
For fucks sake...!
You stood up, running your hand against the wall. You felt around until you found your knife and flashlight. Flicking it on, a bright beam came from the end of it, temporarily blinding you.
Letting your eyes adjust, you decided against getting suited up and left the room. The beams of your flashlight stretched until the end of the highway, dust particles floating around. Whatever made the noise wasn't nearby. If it was an animal, and you highly doubted it, it would have left by now.
Rounding the corner there was no one, and the walk to the meeting hall was dead silent. Mikhail and them must have heard the noise as well unless they were heavy sleepers. So where were they?
You went to flick on the lights, only to remember that it was past eleven. Everything else was running fine.
"Guys?" you called out in a hushed tone.
Hearing no response, you didn't linger any longer than you needed to. Shining the light into every passing room didn't reveal anything either, and everyone else had yet to make their entrance. It was probably safe to assume that they were well asleep by now and slept through the noise. But now that you were up, you couldn't fall asleep easily without knowing what caused the noise.
The base was rather big, and would take more than three hours to go through every room. Storage, cafeteria, the main terminal…
You were about to call the quits until you crashed into someone as you turned the corner. The flashlight fell to the floor, and you dived to get it.
“Fucking bastard–”
“Vadim?”
“Quiet!”
Vadim grabs your shoulders, shuffling you back into the direction you came from. You aimed your flashlight at him, and saw that he was clutching at his side, blood seeping through his fingers. He leaned against the wall, trying to keep himself up but struggling to do so.
“Shit, what happened?!”
Unable to stand up any longer, he slipped onto the floor with his back to the wall before he could answer your question. In a rush, you set the flashlight down, ripped off the bottom part of your shirt and placed it over his wound while applying pressure. The warmth of blood quickly seeped through; it was deep. It was only then that you realized that he had way more lacerations than you initially thought: one in the shoulder, leg, and arm. How he even managed to get away, you didn’t even know.
"They came back to clean up their mess," Vadim croaks. You looked up at him and already saw his eyes were beginning to lose the life in them. He already lost too much blood. "They, they got Artyom… We tried to get to the escape route, but they cut us off... I don’t even know what Mikhail was even thinking–"
The sound of distant footsteps echoed from down the corridor.
Vadim grabs your arm. “You need to go.”
Uncertainty raced through your mind. The footsteps were getting closer. “I can’t just–”
“You need to go!” he repeats, mustering up any strength to push you away. “Don’t waste your time on me!”
You gulped, seeing the desperation on his face. He was clinging to life, using his final bated breaths to tell you this, and in the end, there was nothing else left for you to do.
“Thank you... for everything.”
Taking a final look at Vadim, you decided to follow his wishes, and left him. You could hear him cock back a pistol behind you, yelling cuss words and calling out to the intruders.
It was probably best to better arm yourself with something other than a knife, so you made your way to the armory. Though it was quite the distance, you luckily didn't encounter anyone on the way there. The sounds of gunfire would echo out occasionally, and you hoped that everyone was alright.
Before you could turn the corner of the hallway leading to the armory, something flashed just right at the edge of your peripherals. Glancing, you saw a tiny red dot dancing along the floor and walls.
Shit!
You flicked off your flashlight.
There were two of them.
To make things worse, they weren't talking. No communication between them whatsoever. It was dead quiet and you could hear your heart beating in your ears. Whoever they were, they were professionals. Or maybe they were dumb. You hoped it was the latter.
Without a weapon, you had no chance of winning. Sure, you had a knife, but against two? It was possible if they were slow to respond, though you highly doubted it. You had to separate them.
Tracing back your steps you decided to head to the control room.
It was circular in shape. The terminals inside followed the shape of the room, curving around the center floor. They were on standby, light brown next blinking repeatedly, just waiting for a password.
Keeping a low profile, you searched around for something distracting. There was a little panel on the wall, and on it was a giant red button. A glass pane covered it.
Well damn.
Biting your lip, you winded up your fist and twisted your body. You took a deep breath before letting your waist unwind itself. Your knuckles met the glass, the shards digging into your skin as the button sunk onto itself.
"Fuck!" you couldn't help but yell, pulling your hand out as red began to trail down your arm.
Sirens began to go off, lights beginning to flash. The screens around you began to blink rapidly with the words "emergency" in Russian. An irritable sound of high pitched wailing came from above as bright neon red covered the room.
While things weren't going to plan, at least their attention was drawn to you instead of Mikhail, Artyom, and Anton.
As a matter of fact, where were they?
You didn’t even have time to think as a sudden spray of bullets came, shattering the glass windows. Ducking for cover, your breath hitched as you heard the door get kicked open.
With the loud siren masking their footsteps, and only a knife to your name, you were trapped.
Taking a peep around the corner, you could see two armed large figures situating themselves deeper in the room, parting and circling around the terminals. You couldn't make out their faces very well.
At least there were two– you could handle them. Maybe take one as a body shield, threaten to cut their throat.
There was a faint sheen of red on your left, and you found a pair of boots right next to your hand. Before they could even react, you sprung up violently and threw yourself at them.
You flipped the knife in your hand, making sure it was pointed downward.
Using every ounce of your strength in the attempt to make your knife plunge into the intruder's chest, and they in turn tried their best to prevent you from doing so.
Your grip on the handle was incredibly tight, to a point you were beginning to feel light headed and your chest beginning to constrict as the scar you bear stretched out. You could tell that they were stronger than you in terms of strength, so you needed to get this over with quickly.
Just when you were about to push your weight onto the knife, you saw it.
The siren lights momentarily illuminated their face, and you felt all feeling leave your body. You forgot to breathe, and your grip lessened on the handle. This couldn’t be happening. It’s been two years.
But there was no mistaking it. Those piercing grey-bluish eyes belong to someone all too familiar.
Lazar.
Eleazar Azoulay.
“Bell?” he whispered in disbelief, and his grip on you lessened significantly. You couldn’t see his expression, but his voice was enough. It was him.
You choked up as he said your name. Your nickname almost sounded foreign. Lazar must have seen your face at the same time you saw his.
Before you could respond, something blunt and heavy hit you square on your temple, knocking you off. Alarms were ringing inside your head, telling you to run as far as possible. You could already hear that man's voice at the depths of your mind.
"Woods, wait!" you heard Lazar cry out in warning.
You didn't waste a second getting back on your feet, diving behind a control panel as a torrent of bullets rained on the spot you were at just mere seconds ago.
You couldn't stop yourself from hyperventilating, and your hands began shaking. Balling them into a fist, you punched the ground as fear began to take over you. Fuck!
Somehow, you managed to get a good grip on your knife, holding it with your fingertips before chucking it around the corner from your hiding spot. You heard it collide with something metallic, and you took the opportunity to dash towards the door.
Bullets trailed right behind you, one even grazing your shoulder just as you made it out. You ran down the hall, trying to remember where the exit was. The only advantage you had was the lack of lighting, and your knowledge of the facility's layout, and yet you failed to clear your mind.
After a few tight turns, you tackled the emergency exit door open. You didn't stop for a moment, continuing to run off into the forest that was located on top of a small hill. The snow left indents of your shoes as you rushed to get away, but there was no time to spare to cover them.
Just what were you supposed to do in a situation like this?
Hiding behind a tree, it took a bit for your body to cooperate. Your thoughts were racing at an uncontrollable rate.
You always thought the first emotion you would feel was anger if you somehow encountered your former team again. You ran the scenarios through your head, thinking of every possible outcome, but this seemed to be the most unlikely route to have taken.
Rather than anger, you were scared.
What would they do to you when they found you? You were supposed to be dead. Were you going to kill them? No, you couldn't do that…
Right?
In the end, you wanted to shut your eyes, cover your ears, and wish everything else away. You had nothing to defend yourself, and you couldn't bring yourself to surrender.
You couldn't do anything.
Your military training felt useless in this scenario, and your mind was slowly turning against you. The voices sounded like they were getting closer, but you couldn't tell if they were auditory hallucinations or the genuine voices of the people you had cared for.
Cold wind nipped at the open wound on your forehead, and you could feel the trail of blood that ran down your face drying up.
The sound of a branch breaking went off nearby.
Painfully, you held your breath, and tried to concentrate your thoughts on your surroundings. You forced your hand to stop shaking by grasping your wrist. You listened to everything that could exist, whether it be the cold breeze blowing through, or the slightest movement of a leaf.
Surely enough, you heard the sound of something heavy closing itself onto your position. It was on your right.
Taking a peek from the corner of your eye, you could see a red laser pointing at the ground near you, before it disappeared. The presence was right there.
They knew where you were.
Preparing yourself, you took a silent deep breath, and pulled your legs closer. The sound of a single bell chime went off in your head. You had to be doing something right.
Counting down their footsteps, they were just a pace away.
You bolted out from behind the tree, tackling the person closest to you. They swore in surprise as you both rolled down a short distance.
It was Adler.
A sudden rage overtook you.
The man behind everything, the one who made these voices in your head.
You couldn't see his eyes behind the fucking glasses. Why did he always wear those fucking shades?
You were frustrated. You could have helped them. You could have told them about Duga, but you told them about Solovetsky instead. Your loyalty was to the US at that point, their morals and vision of the greater good heavily instilled on you. It may have been fake, but you eventually sympathized with it. You were even part of the team that prevented the nukes, and this was the "thanks" you get?
“We’ve got a job to do.”
Something inside you snapped, your fear turning into something incomprehensible. You weren’t mad or frightened; it felt like an unearthly force had taken control of your body, and you were just watching it play out in front of your eyes.
Kill him.
Wresting the gun away from him, you tossed it away before positioning yourself on top, making sure he couldn't get up. With your left hand you grabbed his collar. As for your right fist, you didn't hesitate to bring down your fist onto him.
His aviators broke right at the bridge of his nose.
"Bell-"
You didn't give him a second to speak. Pulling back your fist, you delivered another punch. Adler had an iron grip on your left wrist, trying to pry it away, but you didn't budge.
“The red door.”
Where was it?
"The CIA reinvented you, Bell."
"Bell, stop!"
Where was the damn door?
“Why?!” you screamed, tugging Adler at the collar with both hands. Your throat felt raw and dry as emotions began to well up, your thoughts becoming incoherent the longer you stared at his bloody face. “You left me!”
Adler fully understood the words you spoke, and it tugged at his heartstrings.
Your voice cracked as you cried, and tears were running down your face. You truly did think you had a connection with him, working side by side with a man that had your back in the most dire of situations. He fully expected this kind of reunion, but he had long convinced himself that you had actually died on the cliffside. Adler couldn’t even bring himself to fight back against you, agony written all over your face as you confronted him. He took the punches, wishing that it would at least give you some solace.
You were peeled off of him by Woods, whose arms were wrapped around your neck and waist, restricting your movement. You flailed your legs around, just trying to hit something, anything. But Woods' hold on you was too strong, and moving too much would choke yourself unconscious. Instead, you watched as Adler helped himself upward, wiping the blood from his nose away.
Adler rolled his neck a couple of times, and gave up on wiping away the blood on his face. He spat out some substance onto the ground as he reached for the radio, an audible click coming from it. "Sims, get ready. We're heading to exfil."
You could sense him looking at you, but you were unable to decipher his visage amidst the darkness.
"We secured the package."
#russell adler#russell adler x reader#russell adler x bell#cod black ops cold war#black ops cold war#call of duty#bo:cw#text#bell#call of duty x reader#call of duty imagine#fanfic#abcd briefing
116 notes
·
View notes
Text
If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Three
James Potter x OC
Words: 3,1k
Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two
"What's going on between you and Potter these days?" Marlene asked as we sat at breakfast together.
"Nothing?" I asked back, not missing how Lily's eyes snapped towards me.
"It's not nothing," Marlene pressed, "You've been spending an awful lot of time together."
"So? Is it that weird that a boy wants to spend time with me?"
"Um, yes."
I gave her look at her blunt reply. "Well, it's true! You hardly ever have a boy paying so much attention to you. It's interesting." I tried to pretend that her words didn't sting. "Besides, it's Potter! He is in love with Lily."
"Well, it's not like we are being romantic in any way," I mumbled into my croissant (except for wishful thinking), "We are just friends."
"All of a sudden?"
"It just came about. What about it?" I said with an eyeroll.
"I'm just saying it's weird," Marlene muttered, "Not only has Potter started hanging around you all the time he has also stopped pursuing Lily. After all these years!" She leaned forward to whisper, "What if he is going to try asking you out from now on?" I almost choked on my coffee, coughing heavily.
"Honestly Marlene, your imagination is shocking sometimes," I said with a raspy voice. Marlene huffed, leaning back as she turned her attention back to her food, "Say what you want, I think my theory is not that off."
I just rolled my eyes. Lily stayed surprisingly quiet.
After dinner, I strolled through the halls with another bag of sweets ready in my hands as I thought over how to convince Madam Pomfrey with more than just repeatedly saying 'please'.
Knocking at the big wooden door, I opened to reveal the Hospital Wing surprisingly empty. "Wow, this must be the first time you don't have to tend to a student for once," I made myself known as I walked in leisurely, swinging the bag of sweets in my hands pointedly.
"Miss Grant, I do not have time for you. Please leave right now," Madam Pomfrey immediately cut off any attempt from my side.
"But you don't have any-"
"I'm really serious, Miss Grant," she said sternly, "I do not have the patience for your nonsense. Leave!"
I gave her an almost hurt – or rather scared – look when I noticed the curtains drawn around a bed in the far corner of the room. 'Huh, isn't so empty after all.' "Now!" I swiftly followed her orders.
Walking back towards the Common Room with a sullen glare at everyone passing by I was surprised to not see James waiting at the fireplace this time. I was even more surprised at the amount of disappointment I felt at the realisation. Sighing heavily, I plopped down on an armchair, deciding that I should wait for him for once, dropping the bag of sweets on the small table.
I stared at the fire for a long time, slowly curling myself into the soft leather as a yawn escaped me, thoughts mindlessly passing through my head and before I knew it, my eyes had drifted close.
I woke up to the feeling of something warm being draped over me, my lids fluttering back open after what felt like only a minute but was definitely longer according to the dimmed fireplace. I glanced around with drowsy eyes until a figure knelt down in front of me, revealing the one person I had been waiting for.
"Hey Grant," the messy-haired boy whispered gently.
"Hey James," I muttered back, snuggling further into the blanket, "What time is it?"
"Well past midnight," he replied, pushing a strand of hair back that had fallen over my face at my shuffling, "You drooled all over the leather."
"Did not," I denied, wiping the corner of my mouth and he chuckled quietly, "Where have you been anyway?"
"Just out and about with the lads. You know, causing trouble," he said with grin before his gaze softened, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I hadn't expected you to wait this long."
"I wouldn't have if I hadn't fallen asleep," I retorted and he smirked, "Sure." I blushed. I really would have left. At some point. For sure. Clearing my throat, I changed the topic, "Where are the others then? And what have you done this time?"
"Padfoot and Wormtail are already up…Moony, too," he added hastily and I briefly wondered why he seemed nervous when my gaze flickered over to the window.
The moon appeared from behind a cloud, a stark contrast to the black sky. It seemed to have been full last night and descending into the darkness once more; Before it would ascend into a full moon again next month...
The scales fell from my eyes. "…And for what we did, you will just have to wait and see…Grant?" James cut himself off when I sat up, wide awake.
"Of course," I whispered, finally understanding why Madam Pomfrey denied any internships since First Year.
It was because of Remus being a werewolf.
.
.
.
If I were to guess, I would say a lot of peeps in our year knew about it or at least suspected that something was off with the sandy-haired boy.
Oh, don't act so surprised, I'm not dumb. Even if I hadn't spent much time before with James or the rest of the Marauders before, we were in the same year for Merlin's sake! We had all the classes together and I had Quidditch practice with two members of the infamous group. You think it wouldn't be suspicious at some point how Remus kept getting sick every month like a lady having her period, looking like he got back from war each time like – I repeat – a lady having her period and the Marauders pampering him with chocolate the whole time?
Not to mention, how James would always give us one week off from any practice every month, which was more than out of his normal behaviour. It had brought up my suspicions in the first place around a year ago.
I confirmed it with one night in at the Hospital Wing during a full moon night, overhearing their conversation consisting of 'bad transformation' and 'Wolfsbane Potion'.
"What of course? Hello? Grant? I'm right in front of you and you are ignoring me?" James flicked my forehead.
"James," I exclaimed before I deflated slightly, wondering whether it would be a good idea to tell him I knew. He was deeply protective of his friends and hiding this kind of a secret for Remus must be huge for him.
"Yes?" he pressed, "What is it?"
"Eh…nothing," I said quickly, forcing out a huge and fake yawn, "I have to sleep. Good night!"
"Good night…," he called after me slowly as I raced upstairs, the blanket dropped on his head.
Now that I knew what held the school's matron back from taking anyone in I would surely get the internship if I told her I knew about Remus' secret already. I settled down in my bed with a giddy feeling that didn't have to do with James for once, finally having found a bright light in the dark tunnel.
My wide smile faded slightly though at the thought of the werewolf that was probably at the Hospital Wing right now. Would they ban him from school if they found out that I – and probably others – knew? I was sure, at least Lily would be aware of it being one of the smartest of our year. Not to mention she was a Prefect along with Remus.
I felt conflicted. Should I tell and risk him having to leave the school if Dumbledore deemed it too dangerous that too many knew? I could only imagine the amounts of owls flying into his office with Howler's of concerned parents voicing out their protests of a werewolf staying among their children if they were to find out, no matter how sweet of a person Remus was. I couldn't imagine the Headmaster would actually want to kick him out but I also doubted he would be able to fend off the many complaints in this case. Especially since he had kept it a secret for so many years.
Sighing heavily, I watched the bright light in the dark tunnel fade into nothingness.
The next morning came too soon and with it the pounding headache I woke up to. I refused to get out of bed for half an hour until Lily and Marlene all but dragged me off the bed with my blanket.
Trudging after the two chatting nuisances towards the Great Hall, I cheered up slightly at the prospect of food. But upon hearing the noise volume inside the big room, I wish I had just stayed in bed once again, feeling the loud clatter and talking painfully pierce into my temples. "Ughh," I growled, naturally settling down beside James as the girls sat on my other side, wary of my mood.
"What's up, Grant?" James greeted me cheerfully. I grumbled through the cinnamon roll in my mouth, "Hfsgr alfit ni dhahrt withd tjwis."
He nodded, placing a hand on my shoulder in understanding, "I'm sorry but what?"
I sighed, looking away from him only to face the sole reason I didn't manage to sleep last night, looking as bad as I felt. No, scratch that. He looked worse, a deep-set tiredness visible in his usual bright blue eyes.
"Oi. I don't bother her. My presence is a gift to her," James boasted, causing his and my friends to roll their eyes, "Right, Grant?"
Guilt swapped over me like a wave. Here I was, moody about not being able to appease my parents with an internship I wasn't even sure I wanted when Remus had probably been through a painful night... "Did James bother you again?" the sweet boy asked with quiet amusement, "Don't worry, you will get used to it." I felt ashamed at how he tried to cheer me up when it should be the other way around.
'Merlin, I would suck as a Healer. Better face that sooner than later.'
"Sure, you are the light of my life," I said indifferently, now feeling even worse than before as I looked at the chuckling boy in front of me. 'I really shouldn't complain.' Fishing out the reserved chocolate bar from my robes I handed it towards him as "prepayment for the notes of the upcoming classes".
The lessons came, saw, conquered and soon enough the sun began to set. I was going to do the routinely visit to Madam Pomfrey when I realised I wouldn't need to do that anymore. Sighing, I almost mourned the money I had spent on all the sweets for the matron and how much was still left for her. 'Meh, might as well end the tradition properly,' I thought to myself but decided to just leave the small bag at the door of the Hospital Wing, not bothering to bother her this time.
"You are back early," James announced my arrival loudly as I walked in through the portrait hole, interrupting his talk with Sirius at the fireplace, "How did it go this time?" he asked as he shooed his friend away. The black-haired heartthrob of the school muttered something under his breath before he left with a 'Night, Grant' accompanied with a cheesy smile.
"You didn't have to send him away," I pointed out as I plopped down next to him.
"It's fine, he was just pestering me," James said dismissively, "Has Pomfrey agreed this time?"
"No," I replied shortly, leaning back against the sofa.
"Don't worry, she will at some point."
"No, she won't...," I trailed off, looking away from his brown eyes, "I will stop asking."
"What? Why?" James asked surprised.
I shrugged, "I'm just tired of her saying no all the time."
"Sure, it can be tiring but you can't give up!" James exclaimed and I glanced at him, wondering why he would keep encouraging this if the future of one of his best friends could be at stake here. "Look, I can assure you it will be worth all the rejections once you get what you've always wanted."
"Ah," I hummed, understanding, "you mean Lily."
"Yes."
"But...haven't you given up?"
James blanched, "W-what?"
I raised an eyebrow, "I'm just wondering. You've stopped asking her out."
"Right...I..have given up on her," the boy said, clearing his throat. Wow. He actually said it. It was one thing assuming he would give up on his proclaimed love of the life and another to actually hear him say it.
"How come?" I inquired quietly.
James bit his lip. "I'm just tired of her saying no all the time," he repeated my words almost mechanically.
I laughed. "Then why are you telling me not to give up?"
"Because you haven't tried hard enough."
"Excuse me? Honeydukes?" I protested, indignantly.
"Yeah, yeah, it's a good start," James agreed with an eyeroll, "But you could change your tactic."
"How?"
"Help her when she needs it," he said, "You say she is always busy when you go there. Just start helping her out with small things and she might recognise what she is missing."
I pondered on his words, seeing no wrong in it. Once again, he surprised with how intelligent he could be if he wanted to.
But nonetheless- I sighed, "I will see what I can do."
"Good," James nodded, satisfied.
I looked at him pensively, "When did you realise it?"
"Hm?" he looked at me, "Realise what?"
"That you want to give up on Lily?"
"I do not want to-," he cut himself off, biting his lip, "I did not want to give up."
"But you've realised that you have tried hard enough now?" I asked and his eyes flickered away, nodding slowly.
"Yes...," he said, "I have tried enough."
I looked into the fire, leaning the side of my head against the couch and keeping silent as he sat beside me, deep in thought.
"I mean...it's been so many years," he interrupted the serene quietness around us softly and I peeked at him through the corner of my eyes, "Three years. And she hasn't budged once. Why?" he ran a hand through his hair and I noticed he always did that when he was frustrated.
"I did tell you once that you should get to know her more," I told him, "Be civil."
"I have been civil!" he said hotly, "I haven't asked her out for over a month, kept our interactions polite with nothing more than a hello and bye. Do you know how hard that was?" My eyes widened at his sudden outburst and he caught himself, biting his lip, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...you know."
"Hey, it's all good. We're friends now, right?" I reassured him, patting his back, "You can let it all out. I'm a good secret keeper."
James looked back at me and a tiny smile graced his lips. I tried not to stare at his handsome face for too long.
"Thank you, Cecily."
"You must have kept it all in for a while now," I mused, watching him rub his eyes.
"Yeah, I guess...," he trailed off as he leant back and for once I could catch a glimpse of tiredness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. His lids fluttered close and his tense shoulders slackened. My breath got caught in my throat when I noticed he was starting to relax around me, his guard down when I hadn't even realised it was up.
What it revealed would be something I wouldn't have ever thought about him: a small, vulnerable boy, his heart hurting just as much as anyone else's, who would get rejected by their crush. Probably more so since he would hear it multiple times a day. If any boy I had ever dared to ask out - which wouldn't ever happen because I'm not that much of a Gryffindor - and he would say no to me, I would probably crawl into my bed with a bag of sweets from Honeydukes for at least two weeks. Or until the bag was empty.
I slapped my hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump with a yelp, "What the hell, woman?"
"You are not going to give up, James Potter," I announced gravely, "If you want Lily to become your girlfriend then you are going to do more than try hard enough."
"I have-"
"I'm talking about more than being civil or throwing fireworks around people's eyebrows."
James rolled his eyes, "I told you it wasn't on purpose! Padfoot is lying!"
"Whatever," I dismissed him before turning sirius, "You can feel down about it. But you shouldn't ever give up on something you truly want." James sighed heavily. "You have to at least know that you've really tried everything. And I mean, everything. All is fair in Love and War."
The messy-haired boy stared at me, his glasses shining slightly from the flickering light of the fire that also started reflecting in his eyes, slowly but steadily, "You're right. I won't give up."
"Good," I nodded satisfied.
"As long as you don't, either."
"Hm?"
"You are not going to give up on that internship," James stated, solemnly holding up his little finger, "Pinky promise." Looking from his serious face to his pinky finger, I couldn't help burst, my laughter echoing through the empty Common Room. "OI! Don't laugh at me!" James huffed, still holding his hand up, "This is important."
"I know," I said through my giggles, "It just looked funny to me."
"Oh, I look funny to you?" James said, amusement glinting in his eyes before he suddenly reached for my waist, fast as the Seeker he was, and I protested loudly when he started tickling me, "I will show you funny!"
"James! Stop! No!" I yelped, laughing involuntarily as he kept his tirade up until I was left breathless with laughter, "Please, stop!"
"Alright, alright," James chuckled, his face beaming at my own flushed one as I tried to catch my breath, accutely aware of how close he still was to me. His smile faded slightly as we stared at each other. "Now let's try again," he said more quietly, holding up his pinky once more. I giggled slightly but hooked my own around his, feeling slightly bad that I was going to give him an empty promise. "We won't give up. And whoever does, owes the other one wish." Gulping slightly, I nodded in agreement, wondering what he would wish for since I had already given up.
And I knew he never would.
Chapter Four
#james potter#james potter x oc#james potter x reader#james potter imagine#james potter fanfiction#sirius black#remus lupin#lily evans#marlene mckinnon#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfiction#marauders#marauders era#marauders imagine#marauders fanfiction
87 notes
·
View notes
Text
parental moments: two
to build a home masterlist
Pairing: levi x reader
Summary: it’s 2:40 AM and you and levi are convinced that you’re about to be robbed. except you hear drunken laughter.
Chapter Warnings: cursing, otherwise none really
Word Count: 1795
A/N: based off of a series of asks that were sent in the other day about sasha, connie, and jean showing up drunk and levi and oc’s house. and levi and oc think they’re getting robbed (especially oc who has been getting startled by everything bc they’ve been binging true crime docs). also they are living in a house now because they decided to move out of their apartment and get a bigger property together hehe
***
One of the many things you and Levi had in common was your love for true crime documentaries. You had taken to ending your nights with whatever was on television, or with whatever was on the many streaming services that you had a subscription to.
Levi complained often (along with you) at how there were a million and one streaming services these days- what was the point-
“To burn a hole in our bank accounts,” You scoff.
“There’s gotta be a way to stream this shit for free,” Levi groans.
“I bet one of the new recruits knows,” You muse, “Maybe Armin or Jean...”
“We can figure it out ourselves,” Levi huffs and you roll your eyes.
It’s been days and weeks of your nightly routine and you’ve become creeped out enough late at night that you’ve taken to triple checking the locks and the windows of your house every few hours. And tonight is no different.
“Hey,” Levi says, pulling you into his side reassuringly, “We’re fine. And even if we’re not. I’m here to protect you.”
You’ve been waking up at every small noise during the night- the wind whistling, the house settling, leaves rustling outside. Usually, he’s the light sleeper but these days… These days it’s you. And he can tell it’s starting to take a toll on you. You’re tired during the days when you don’t get a good night’s sleep, the bags under your eyes deepening.
“That’s nice,” You murmur, “But I think we need a baseball bat. Or three.”
“And what do we need three baseball bats for?” Levi asks flatly, “Let’s stop with the documentaries so late at night. Would a home security system help?”
“Maybe…”
Levi puts you to bed so good that night, but you still come home with three baseball bats the next day.
***
“Levi,” You mumble, shaking him awake, “Levi, did you hear that?”
It’s 2:40 AM and he’s already awake and throws the sheets off of him to get out of bed. He heard it too, the rustling, the loud footsteps and the jarring sound of knocking. You can’t tell if it’s coming from inside or outside and your heart is racing too fast for you to discern the origin of the noises.
He internally curses himself for not installing the home security system yet.
“Stay here,” Levi murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be back in a few minutes-”
“What! No,” You protest fiercely, leaping out of bed and pulling your new baseball bat from under the bed. While you’re at it, you slip a pair of shorts over your bare legs and Levi rolls his eyes at you.
“Take your time, it’s not like we’re about to get robbed. Do you want to put your makeup on, too?” Levi snorts.
“Oh, yeah, good call. Tell them to wait for me to contour-” You roll your eyes and pinch him, “Is this a joke to you-”
He quickly shushes you by pulling you into his side and squeezing your hand as he quietly heads downstairs to the source of the noise. You can’t help but press your face into his shoulder nervously, while peeking with one eye open. Gripping his upper arm tightly, your nails pressing into his bicep, you whisper for him to be careful when he looks through the peephole of the front door.
You hear a chorus of laughter, drunken laughter and Levi sighs irritatedly. He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.
“You gotta be shittin’ me,” Levi grumbles.
“What? What is it?”
“Take a look for yourself,” Levi says, “It’s Connie, Jean and Sasha.”
You throw the door open and are greeted with three drunken fools with beaming smiles on their face that don’t seem to falter when they see your baseball bat.
“Oh my god,” You murmur, rubbing a hand over your face, “I thought we were getting robbed. I fuckin’ thought we were getting robbed, Levi.”
Levi subtly squeezes your hand and brushes his lips over your temple to quell your nerves. He sends a scathing look to the three troublemakers standing on the porch, without a care in the world.
“May I ask what the fuck you three are doing at our place of residence at three in the morning,” Levi says flatly.
“Yes! Yes you may,” Jean grins and winks at Levi.
It draws a surprised laugh from you.
“Wha’ had happened was…” Sasha starts with a bright smile.
“Our phones died and we kinda… forgot where we live,” Connie shrugs, not even bothering to look sheepish, “Besides, remember, you said! If we ever had to hide a dead body, you’d help us!”
“Please do not tell me that there’s a dead body to hide,” Levi sighs.
“We have your numbers an’ addresses mem’rized,” Sasha says, batting her eyelashes at you innocently.
That immediately pulls a wave of affection through you and you match their smiles in intensity. Levi doesn’t have the heart to tell you not to encourage their antics.
“I can’t believe you remember our address and not your own,” You mumble, pulling them in for tight hugs, “Come inside. You three are troublemakers.”
“Really?” Jean asks, his light brown eyes wide.
“We gave you our address and phone numbers for a reason,” Levi rolls his eyes, “It’s cold, get your asses inside.”
The three of them file inside in a straight line, looks of glee etched in their faces.
“Take your shoes off, please,” You request as you shut and lock the door behind you. Levi doesn’t miss you glancing at the locks twice just to make sure.
“Do you have-”
“Yes, Sasha, we have food,” Levi says, already heading into the kitchen, “I’ll give you some if you don’t spill.”
“How will you know I won’t spill until you give me food?” Sasha asks and you stifle a laugh.
You follow Levi into the kitchen after making sure that they’re comfortable and hug him from behind, your face pressed in between his shoulder blades. You yawn widely and kiss the back of his neck lightly.
“Can’t believe I thought we were going to get robbed,” You mutter, “Instead we have three drunk kids in our house.”
“I believed it for a sec, too,” Levi says, “Honestly, I would’ve preferred getting robbed to having three drunk kids in our house.”
You laugh into his shirt and swat his shoulder playfully. Levi flits around the kitchen with you at his back, warming up food and filling up glasses of water for the three of them. He can tell that the adrenaline is wearing off and that you’re getting sleepier and sleepier when you cling to him, always touching him even when he’s so close to you.
Peeling off of his back, you give him a sleepy smile and take two plates out to the dining table. Sasha immediately jumps up, abandoning whatever conversation she was in with Connie and Jean and sits in front of her plate.
“My mouth is watering,” Sasha moans, her stomach grumbling.
“Oi, get it together,” Jean chastises but sits next to her, “Food’s not goin’ anywhere.”
“Thanks Captain,” Connie grins, pupils still blown from alcohol, “And Missus Captain.”
“Missus? Who you callin’ missus?” You say, struggling to keep your face straight, “Maybe Levi’s mister-”
Levi rolls his eyes and listens to you bicker with Connie, and then Jean joins in before both of them start to tease you in good fun.
“So all three of you show up here with dead phones? Do you guys all share one brain cell?” You ask, “Usually it’s Jean, but I see that you decided to leave it at home tonight…”
“Hey!”
“Don’t be so mean…”
“...”
“What if something happened and you didn’t know how to get in contact with anyone?” You chide lightly, “Be more careful. Last thing we need is my three favorites getting in trouble-”
“Your three favorites! Ha! I knew it,” Jean says, bumping fists with Connie.
“That’s not what I meant,” You protest weakly, “You’re all my favorites-”
“It’s alright,” Sasha says with wink, “Your secret’s safe with us.”
You look to Levi for help with wide, dark eyes and he shakes his head for the millionth time that night.
“You three know better,” Levi says sternly, “Going out and getting drunk enough where none of you remember your address and none of you have a working phone amongst the three of you? What the hell were you thinking?”
“Oh, live a little, Captain,” Jean says airily, ignoring the flabbergasted look from Sasha.
“‘Sides, we remembered our address. We just wanted to see if you’d let us in,” Connie says smugly.
“The idiots who cried wolf,” You mutter with a smile and they all protest indignantly.
“Can’t believe you were about to beat us with a baseball bat,” Jean mutters.
“I thought we were being robbed-”
“If we were robbing you, we’d be inside the house, not outside-”
“Are you kidding me, Jean?” You groan, smacking your forehead with your palm for the fifth time that night, “I’ll keep that in mind next time we get intruders at 2:40 AM.”
“Do you get intruders at 2:40 AM often?”
“Don’t fuck with my beauty sleep, Kirstein,” You say, pointing a finger at the three of them accusingly.
“You don’t need any beauty sleep, ma’am,” Sasha says without missing a beat, “Captain thinks so, too.”
“Are you hitting on my girlfriend for me,” Levi deadpans.
Sasha only shrugs, finishing off the last spoonful of food in her plate. Connie takes all three of the empty plates to the sink, or he tries to. Levi stops him and pulls the plates from him and quickly washes them.
“You can sleep on our couch tonight, it’s already late. We have some extra chargers, I plugged them in over there,” You point to the corner of your living room, “We’ll bring out extra blankets and pillows.”
You know Levi is cringing at the thought of outside clothes on the couch, so you offer them some freshly washed pajamas of yours and Levi’s. Levi leaves water for them on the coffee table in case they wake up in the middle of the night and finally, finally brings you back to bed with him. You peel your shorts off and slide into bed with him, already curling into his side.
“Can’t believe them,” You mumble sleepily, but fondly.
“Oh really? I can,” Levi snorts.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” You reply with your eyes closed, “And don’t wake me up before nine.”
The next morning, after Sasha, Connie and Jean leave, you and Levi work on installing the new home security system in your house and at your insistence-
“Fine. You can keep those fuckin’ baseball bats.”
***
tags: @simpingmaize
132 notes
·
View notes
Note
#20 and Cobert. I don't know if you're still doing this but thought I just send a prompt because I really love your fanfics^^
Thank you so much! I’ve been rewatching a bit of Downton lately, and I have this new little tiny thing of a headcanon. I won’t go much into it here because it’s an interesting little bud that I may want to water and let grow. Try this. I hope there’s something there that you like. It is very much a bit of a Cora + Violet scene. (Wish we had more!) *throws Drabble at you and runs*
——///——
# 20 Things You Said that I Wasn’t Meant to Hear
The thunder outside of the dining room made the usually large, gaping space between the four of them smaller - suffocatingly smaller.
They’d already mustered through six different topics of light conversation: Patrick’s plans for the upcoming hunting party, Mama’s visit with the vicar earlier that day, if anyone had heard anything of “poor old Mr. Granger” (whom Cora had never heard of at all), the delicious chicken they ate, Rosamund’s most recent letter, and the weather.
Cora felt as if it had all come full circle there — it began with small rumbles of the storm and the pittering of rain against the windows, and now it had ended with larger rumbles and gusts of wind.
For his part, Robert said very little. He had inquired about the hunting party and made an offhand remark about Rosamund being able to afford her own groceries, but beside that, had kept mum. Cora always kept mum on nights such as these. She felt she’d at last learnt her lesson, that her observations during light conversation between courses was not appreciated. After all, it was all for appearances’ sake.
Cora lifted her eyes from her dessert and looked at the people around her — her husband, her mother-in-law, her father-in-law — and she pushed out a breath of frustration through her nose.
She’d been married for six months. She had had countless dinners such as these: these odd, formal affairs of just the four of them, servants in every corner, never leaving the room. Of course they had had formally laid dinners in New York and Newport, but her Mother was never one for duplicity. She’d send the servants out, to be rung in by a bell when they were finished with their meal, and then she and her brother and mother and father would eat and eat well. They’d sometimes not speak at all. But here, appearances mattered. It was behind the closed door of the library where the facade fell away, and Cora felt a headache coming on.
“Now then, I think it may be time to let them get in here.” Violet stood, and as rules demanded, everyone stood and put their napkins down. Cora instinctively walked around Robert, following her mother-in-law into the library, but then turned, as Robert and his father did not follow her in as they usually did.
Cora looked at Violet. Her mother-in-law yawned as she sat on the red sofa and gazed into the fire, clearly not as interested in this breach of routine as Cora was. She could see, too, from her vantage that Robert and his father were just outside the door, as it was cracked open. But Cora was at a poor angle. She moved to make as if she was selecting a book, though the titles on the spines were next to impossible to read in the dim, flickering light. She could see now, however, through her slow but deliberate steps along the bookcase, that Robert stood just there, and Patrick had his arm about him.
There was another low rumble of thunder and Cora turned to look over her shoulder, at Mama. She still stared into the flames.
“...spoken with Murray today. He asked how I felt things were progressing.”
Patrick’s voice was too deep to whisper properly. The words carried through the remains of the growl of thunder and into their space. Robert’s words were more difficult to decipher. But her name — she very clearly heard her name from on tongue.
She stopped her browsing, and breathing, and stood, trying to hear better.
Robert again. “— I don’t need any lectures on the matter —“
The rain was much too loud.
“ — sure there is nothing amiss. If disharmony exists now, it does not —“
“Cora?” Violet called her. “Can’t you find anything?”
Cora turned back around to her mother-in-law and forced a smile. “No.” She opened her mouth, to add some sort of commentary, but failed. She closed it shut.
“Mmm,” her mother-in-law hummed quietly. “Perhaps it isn’t a night for reading, then.”
Cora turned her head back toward the door. Patrick was speaking again. She could hear the low timbre of his words. And then the lower roll of more thunder. Cora felt her mother-in-law’s attention trained upon her, and felt the awkwardness of the moment increase with every second that ticked forward. So she smiled a small, “You may be right,”walked to the red sofa, and sat.
Of course that wasn’t true. Every night seemed to be a night for reading as of late. Robert had nearly all but stopped coming into her bedroom since they had to share a room at Grantham House in late June. She wasn’t sure what she’d done. One night they had spent tangled in one another, the headiness of the London season and several glasses of champagne working to create a feigned sort of easiness between them. They’d kissed, and laughed, and Cora had quietly whispered how much she longed for him. And then the next night, she found herself alone, Robert sleeping in a separate bed that hadn’t existed before.
Another boom of thunder, and this time, the window panes shook slightly.
In the stillness that followed, Cora noticed a more deafening silence. She turned her head back toward the door, but apparently rather conspicuously, for Violet spoke.
“They’ve left.”
Cora felt her face grow hot, and she thought seriously of coming up with some story that would excuse her strange behavior. But she didn’t. For one, she was a terrible liar. And secondly, she understood that her mother-in-law knew better.
“There is something I need to say, and then we can have it done with.”
Cora was alarmed at this. She looked up at Violet, who was sitting straight, tall, her strawberry blonde hair a deeper red in the firelight. She looked imperial. “I’m only going to ask you one thing, and then we’ll leave things be.” Violet held up her hand, almost as if she was halting Cora’s next thoughts before they had time to manifest. “This is in no way meant to embarrass or insult you. If anything, it’s only meant to clear the air. After all, I believe I may already know the answer; but of course, validation is appreciated in situations such as these.”
Cora took a breath in. Her heart raced. “Yes?”
“Are you refusing to have Robert in your bed?”
“What?” The breath that Cora took in pushed out in a fierce response. She opened her mouth to speak again, but could not. Everything she wanted to say to defend herself turned her chest into hot patches of red, her neck feeling suddenly as if it had been burned, both from indignation and mortification. She must’ve made an unintelligible noise, for Violet had to speak over her.
“My dear ... my dear,” she quieted her. “There is no need to explain a thing.”
There was another rumble of thunder and glass trembling. Cora wanted to cry. She didn’t know how to leave, but she wanted to. She stood, she looked around her, and made to exit. She managed a strangled, “I’m going up” and forced herself to keep some semblance of composure as she moved as quickly as she could from the sofa.
But then, a gnawing, churning thought and Cora paused, abruptly, and turned, very slightly, to Violet. She kept her eyes on the mantle, for she daren’t look at her. She’d cry. She knew she’d cry.
“Did Robert say ... that is ... Was it Robert who ...”
Her voice trailed off. She hated the way she’d asked it. She hated the way her eyes now stung with tears. She hated that this was a conversation she was having with his mother of all people.
Mercifully, Violet didn’t let the silence linger long. “I can’t be sure who has spread such an unseemly and nasty rumor, and were you an ordinary girl who did not carry such a weight as the succession — not to mention the entail with it —, then it would be of little consequence.” Violet paused, and Cora suddenly felt an odd ache in her chest. She looked down at her mother-in-law’s feet. Another thunder rolled in the distance. “But no. It was not Robert.”
The rain outside made the room smaller, but the suffocation Cora had felt in the dining room did not exist here. Instead, the smallness now felt like shared understanding. Shared experience. And for the first time since she arrived, Cora felt as if her mother-in-law was speaking to her, and not simply at her.
Cora met Violet’s gaze. She nodded. “Thank you.”
Violet didn’t smile, in fact, she looked away from Cora, but she nodded in return as she stood and straightened her glove. Cora walked to the door, and just as her hand was at the knob, Violet’s voice gave her pause.
“If I could offer some advice....” Cora looked back at her. “It may do you both some good to remember that we aren’t the only eyes and ears beneath this roof.”
#cobert#downton abbey#Cora here is like 20 or 21#and so is robert#having never been in love#so of course there’s drama#and rumors#cobert drabbles
38 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey uhh not to be a bother or anything but I’ve been having a tough time recently and your writing makes me smile so I wanna say thank you. And if you wouldn’t mind, do you think you could do a HC or those little mini stories you do with Patton and Virgil being cuddly together after Virgil being awake half the night? Maybe he has a routine he does with Virgil whenever he can’t sleep? If you can’t it’s okay. ❤️❤️
It's not a bother at all, I'm sorry you've had a rough time :( I hope this can bring some comfort!
EDIT: I didn't expect this to be a ficlet at all but it happened anyway! This was really sweet and fun to write, thank you for suggesting it <3
oOo
Title: Pillow
Summary: Virgil can't sleep. Papa Patton knows exactly how to get him to relax.
Word count: 2,000
Also on AO3!
oOo
When Virgil and Roman are both awake late at night, they have sleepovers... but on this particular night, when Virgil texts his brother "Hey you awake?" there is no reply. He waits a good hour, just in case Roman was just busy with something. But he soon realises Roman must be asleep for once.
It's not that Virgil isn't tired - he's exhausted - but his anxiety has been high for a couple of days. There is no obvious reason, sometimes it just acts up like that and it's incredibly annoying. He can't get to sleep because his mind is positively racing with worries and disastrous scenarios and insecurities. They're loud.
He tries to get through it alone. He went on Tumblr for a bit but most bloggers were asleep. He listened to some upbeat music to try to lift his mood but it just hurt his ears. He actually tried to be little on his own for the first time in months, but all it did was make him upset and remember all the times he was lonely and regressed and scared and suddenly he just can't be alone anymore.
He tiptoes to Patton's room, all the while internally berating himself. He's been busy this week, he needs time to rest. And you already cause him so much trouble being little all the time. You shouldn't wake him, it's not fair on him.
But by the time he has reached the door, and before he turns back having second thoughts, the door swings open. It always surprised Virgil just how light a sleeper Patton was.
'Vee? Are you okay, sweetheart?' Patton asks, immediately holding his arms out for Virgil.
He hurries into Patton's embrace and grips onto his pyjama shirt tightly, not daring to look up from the ground. Because Patton thinks he's little, doesn't he? Baby Vee is always allowed to wake up his Papa and Mama if he has a nightmare or an accident, but is adult Virgil allowed to?
But it's impossible to pretend he's regressed. Virgil hardly knows what he actually behaves like when he's little, and he can't bring himself to pretend. 'I'm... I dunno, I just can't sleep.'
A soft, warm thing presses to his forehead - a fingertip. 'Yucky thoughts?' Patton whispers, gently stroking over Virgil's brow.
With a small sigh, Virgil simply nods. His eyes are heavy and fall shut, letting the soothing touch calm him instantly.
'Let's get you a bottle, baby.'
Virgil's eyes snap open and he meets Patton's gaze at last. There is only compassion and fondness in the deep brown irises.
'But I'm not little,' Virgil says, frowning slightly. The only times Patton gave him a bottle was when he was either regressed or Patton needed him to be regressed. And even then it was only after Virgil had a panic attack or a nightmare, neither of which was true tonight.
Patton smiles and tucks Virgil's curtain of bangs behind his ear with thick fingertips. 'That doesn't mean we can't relax together. I'm not planning to sleep soon anyway.' He pulls Virgil into his arms again and the anxious side goes willingly, resting his cheek against the barrel chest and breathing deeply with each thumping beat of his Papa's heart. 'Doesn't warm milk and In The Night Garden sound relaxing, honey?'
Virgil merely nods. He's not little, but that does sound calming.
oOo
Within minutes - and after a quick detour to Virgil's room where they acquired Minty - they're in the kitchen. Usually, Virgil would not like to be in the room when the stove is on since it is an open flame. Watching the bright blue flames dance precariously around the saucepan of oat milk makes Virgil's heart leap with every flicker. But he couldn't bear the idea of being away from Patton's side at that moment.
'See, nothing happened,' Patton says, extinguishing the flame and stirring the milk. 'We're all safe, stormcloud.'
Virgil swallows around a lump of nerves and starts picking at his lower lip with his fingernails. He grips Minty tighter to his chest with his other hand. 'All safe,' he repeats under his breath.
There is a metallic clatter and Virgil lifts his gaze from his feet which swing back and forth as he sits on a tall barstool. Papa is smiling at him, the wooden mixing spoon abandoned in the saucepan. 'You're such a brave boy.'
Warmth blooms on Virgil's cheeks. He shakes his head and pulls Minty up to his chin. 'No 'm not.'
'Yes you are,' Patton insists. He makes quick work of transferring the milk into one of Virgil's baby bottles. The sight of it - with a vintage-style image of Eeyore and some butterflies printed onto the side of it - puts a warm, swirly feeling in Virgil's chest. Papa walks over to him and strokes his cheek. It's kind of cold. 'You're my brave little baby.'
All of a sudden tears are burning Virgil's eyes. He takes the tip of his thumb out from between his lips. (When did that get there?) Talking is harder than he remembers it being a few minutes ago. 'No brave... th-scared.'
'Y'know you're allowed to be brave and scared,' Papa says and makes a surprised face. He puts his hands on Virgil's sides and then there's a whoosh of air and the seat is gone under him but now Papa's arm is under him. Virgil is being carried on Papa's hip.
He holds Papa's shoulder tight with one hand, Minty balanced in the crook of his arm. His thumb is back in his mouth. 'Bof?' he whispers.
'Mhm, both. Brave means you do things even when they're scary. Because you know it's important.' Papa kisses Virgil's forehead and it makes him smile. 'Were you scared to come get Papa?'
Virgil looks up at his papa and doesn't know what Papa feels. Does he look sad? Angry? He's not smiling. He doesn't look very happy. Tears start falling down Virgil's cheeks and he whimpers.
'Shh, baby, it's okay if you were scared. Papa's not angry or upset with you.' Then the world is a bit bouncy and Virgil doesn't know why but it makes him stop crying.
He sniffles and it's wet and kind of yucky. He wriggles and tries to hug Papa tighter but it's hard 'cause he's cuddling Minty too. Papa's arm under him is going up and down but then it stops and pulls him closer, tighter, stronger. The world isn't bouncy anymore but it's warm because Papa is warm. And it's nice.
'It was a bit scary to come and get Papa, wasn't it, sweetie?'
Virgil sucks his thumb more. He nods then a little sound comes out from his throat. Another tear trickles down his cheek.
Papa kisses it away. 'And even though it was scary, my clever little stormcloud came to get me anyway because he knew it was the right thing to do.' Another kiss on his other cheek made Virgil hum. 'I think that's very brave.'
For a bit, Virgil tries to remember why he thought he wasn't brave. But it's really tricky. Memories are fuzzy. Plus Papa always knew way more than he did. So Virgil must have been brave.
That makes another smile stretch his lips, bigger this time. His thumb slips out of his mouth.
'There's my happy little baby!' Papa says and smiles big and squiggles a finger on Virgil's side.
It tickles and Virgil giggles. 'Papa, tibble!' Then his head feels foggy and heavy. Then he yawns and the feeling goes away.
'Aww, precious boy. Let's go get you a diaper, then we're gonna have milk and watch Iggle Piggle!'
That's one of Virgil's favorite things to do in the whole world! He nods and kicks his feet a little bit, trying to show that he wants to get moving.
'All right, all right, I get it,' Papa laughs. Then they start moving. 'Giddyup Papa, huh?'
More giggles come from Virgil's lips and he rests his head on Papa's shoulder as they go back upstairs.
Getting changed into a diaper used to be really scary, but now it's okay. Papa smiles at him and sings a pretty song really quiet and Virgil is allowed to hug Minty really tight when he doesn't like a feeling. Then he is changed and it's soft and comfy and it makes him feel really safe and happy. It makes funny crinkly noises and they make tingles go all over his head and he thinks he is floating.
Virgil doesn't remember how, but then there is a paci in his mouth. Pacis are smooth on his tongue! And then they are on the couch in the living room and there is the In The Night Garden music coming from the TV.
He looks around, confused. Where did his room go? He wriggles in Papa's lap and whines, 'Baba.'
'What's wrong, baby?' Papa asks.
Virgil pouts. He wants to know where his room went and where Minty went, but he can't move his mouth. He squeezes the soft stuff in his hands tighter. Then he gasps and looks down. Minty! He cuddles the dino to his chest and smiles.
'You love Minty, don't you, Vee?'
Virgil nods his head. 'Wub.'
There are fingers in his hair, stroking. It makes more of those tingles go over him, like when it's bathtime and Papa pours warm water on his back. It's really nice. 'Can Papa give you your bottle now?'
That question is kind of hard. Papa wants to give Virgil something. But now. Does Papa want to know when Vee wants something? Virgil is confused and it's not a nice feeling. He looks at Papa and tries to tell him that with his eyes.
'Oh, you're super tiny tonight. That was a bit advanced for you then,' Papa says really quiet. Virgil definitely doesn't know what that means. 'Do you want your milky?'
That question was a bit louder and it makes lots more sense. Virgil whines and scrunches his toes in the couch cushion. It means yes and Papa usually knows that.
'Come here, angel,' Papa whispers. He wraps his arms around Virgil and turns him. Virgil isn't facing Papa and sitting up anymore, now he's sideways in Papa's lap. He's kind of lying down, but instead of a pillow under his head, it's Papa's arm. It's warmer and stronger and safer than a pillow.
Then Virgil's mouth is empty. He doesn't like it. There's no more smooth on his tongue, the pretty paci is gone. He whines and feels tears building in his eyes again. He wants his paci back.
Iggle Piggle is jingling and squeaking on the TV.
There's a different smooth on his tongue now. It's warm and it tastes different, but it's still smooth. Virgil sighs and sucks on it like a paci, then there's sweet, creamy, warm stuff on the back of his tongue and he swallows it. It makes his tummy happy. Milk!
A quiet, happy sound comes from him and he keeps drinking the milk. The strong, warm pillow lifts his head up a little bit more then puts his head on something else. It's a bigger, warmer, softer, stronger pillow. It goes Boom boom, Boom boom, Boom boom. Virgil likes this one the best.
Things are different then. The room is a little bit darker and it makes Virgil's eyes happy. Virgil isn't drinking milk anymore and that makes him a bit sad, but his tummy feels full and warm and he doesn't want more milk anyway.
He isn't sideways on Papa's lap anymore, he's sitting backwards in it. He can't see Papa but there's still the Boom boom pillow under his head and that feels just as nice as seeing Papa. Virgil can see the TV. There are trees and grass and Upsy Daisy in a pretty dress. The sound is different - Iggle Piggle isn't jingling and squeaking anymore. Instead, there's plinky-plonky music and a man is speaking with a voice that's kind of like Mama's. It's deep and strong and it makes Virgil's heart feel like a balloon.
His eyes are falling shut. It feels safe.
'Night night, my sweet little one,' Papa's voice says. The pillow rumbles at the same time.
Virgil squeaks and turns his head and smushes his cheek on it. Boom boom. Boom boom.
'Wuboo.'
His eyes are really heavy. Everything goes black.
Boom boom.
oOo
Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated!
#agere virgil#little virgil#cg patton#ts agere#sanders sides agere#ts agere fic#little/big series#little/big series fics#little/big asides#pillow#long post#asks#anon#requests
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Study In Behavior: Chapter 1
A Study In Behavior (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
Chapter 1: Obsession
Rating: G
Word Count: 1.8K
Series Summary: When you signed up for Professor Reid’s class, you were expecting a low effort but interesting class to fill your psychology elective credit. Instead, your fascination with the professor leaves you spending more time than you’d expected in office hours.
Chapter Summary: A strange dream and an unusual professor make today’s lecture much more interesting than you thought it would be.
Warnings: teacher/student relationship, cursing, mentions of anxiety, suggestive language, implied age gap.
A/N: I’m planning on making this an eventual smut slow burn, since this is one of my favorite tropes and I want to make it a Realistic daydream lmao. This chapter is focused on introducing you to the world, reader, and this version of Spencer. Lots of potential here, I already have a million different ideas of how this should go... as always dms and asks are open!
~
The pattering of rain on the tin roof seemed to crescendo, a million drummers tapping out a perpetual drumroll on steel drums above your head. You’d always complained you couldn’t hear yourself think with all that noise, but you missed it despite yourself when you left Seattle for college. You were pulled away from that brief moment of self awareness by the touch of a cold hand, clutching yours as if you might be snatched away at any moment if the grip were to loosen.
You opened your eyes, finding yourself in a bed you knew all too well. A bed you’d spent too many hours in, slept too many nights in, and yet was not your own. Turning your head to the right, you took in the sight of your sleeping mother, her expression of serenity contradicted by the deep creases in her face, betraying the frown that she wore most of her waking life. Your gaze trailed down to your hand in hers; her knuckles were turning white from her tight grip, but you didn’t feel any pain.
Laying next to her, you watched her face for what felt like hours as her chest rose and fell in the lazy patterns of slumber, too afraid of waking her with your movement to breathe. She almost looked happy like this. Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud beeping sound. You looked around for the offending fire alarm, but as you scanned the ceiling it began to dissolve before your eyes, the grip on your hand loosening until you broke free from the scene fully.
~
You opened your eyes with a start as you sat up quickly, feeling out of place in your own room. You were a painting placed in the wrong section of a museum, an unintentional imposter. Nails digging into your comforter, you tried in vain to slow your shallow breaths as you looked around wildly for something to remind you of where you were, of who you were.
Your eyes skipped from your stack of records from your childhood leaning casually against the wall beside the record player on your desk, to the stacks of books watching over you from the top of your bookshelf, unable to fit on the shelves but too close to your heart to part with. Your gaze finally settled on the floor, taking in the mess you’d been meaning to clean up for days now.
As you returned to your body, you could no longer ignore the blaring of your alarm, groaning as you reached for your phone on the nightstand. A glance at the screen had you shooting out of bed. Shit, I have to be at class in 20 minutes. You got up, muttering to yourself about how 8 A.M. classes should be considered cruel and unusual punishment, and maneuvered around your clothes strewn across the floor.
As you raced to your closet, your eyes scanned the clothes you owned, speeding through mental images of a million combinations before giving up and reaching for your comfort clothes. You pulled on the green high waisted cargo pants that you’d owned since high school. Nobody to impress in this class anyway, you reasoned, grabbing the fitted white crop top that your friend had embroidered your name on.
You tore through the apartment in the most violent and rushed performance of a morning routine the world had ever seen, only half trying to keep quiet for the sake of your neighbors. Hair tangled between your fingers and makeup was swiped on haphazardly as you struggled to make yourself presentable, cursing at the time and throwing random belongings in your bag.
Calling out a goodbye to your roommate only to be met with silence, you realized that in your frenzy you had forgotten that no sane college student would willingly be up at this hour. Shaking your head as you rushed out of your building, you mused that you’d just gotten all your stupid mistakes for today over with quite efficiently.
Three years of mediocre dorm experiences had left you desperate for a change, and luckily your now-roommate Jordan volunteered to split the rent for the 2 bedroom you now called home. You’d both agreed to ignore whatever ghost stories scared off previous residents and earned you a fair price for a decent place close to campus; ghosts would just add a little intrigue to your domestic life, you’d joked.
Checking the time once more, you cursed under your breath and broke out into a run. God, I should work out more, you thought as your lungs began to burn, I wouldn’t stand a chance in a zombie apocalypse. Racing through campus, you finally reached the doors of the lecture hall that held your class… which had started three minutes prior. You tried to catch your breath before opening the door, cringing as you heard the professor pause mid-lecture.
You tried not to meet anyone’s gaze as you quickly made your way to a seat. The first one you could find was in the third row-- close enough to the front to make out the facial expressions of your professor, who had continued his train of thought after you entered, choosing to ignore you in favor of finishing his idea.
As you got settled and tuned into the lecture, you realized the professor was still reviewing the syllabus. Pulling it up on your laptop, you looked at the top to remind yourself of his name: Dr. Spencer Reid. Finally looking up, your mind went blank. Oh. Not only was your professor way younger than you’d expected, he was... well, attractive. Thats’s a reasonable objective assessment, right? You knew he was just as knowledgeable as older professors-- you’d chosen this course for its fantastic reviews from previous students-- but his youth was a welcome change from the dinosaurs you were so used to in the neuroscience department.
As you studied him, you only became more sure in your original assessment; he was tall, with tousled brunet hair and a face that was… well, unfair. You weren’t surprised to catch a few other girls unabashedly staring at him, clearly drooling over the man as he spoke animatedly about his favorite parts of the course.
You shook yourself-- this man was your professor. You shouldn’t think about how attractive he is, it’s unprofessional. You also shouldn’t look at his hands the way you are right now, following them as he gestured along with his words you still weren’t paying attention to. You definitely shouldn’t think about what those hands could do.
Oh my god, snap out of it, you reprimanded yourself, you can’t afford to spend the semester fantasizing about your professor, focus on the class! You finally tuned in to the lecture, catching the end of what sounded like a tangent about the difference between triggers and stressors. For the rest of the class, you listened intently, drawn in by Professor Reid’s clear excitement about the topic.
Your efforts to ignore your professor’s appearance were somewhat successful, but as you listened to him speak passionately about the value of profiling as a tool for certain types of criminal investigations, you knew you were done for. His excitement about sharing his knowledge left you fighting back a smile, watching intently as he gestured wildly. You’d always liked listening to fellow nerds, eagerly basking in the pure delight beaming from their faces as they ranted about their subject of interest.
You sighed internally, preparing yourself for a semester of unreasonable dedication to this class, which was meant to be your chill psych elective to leave you more time to spend in the lab. It’s not like this topic wasn’t interesting to you, it was just that you weren’t expecting to be obsessed with it-- or more accurately, the man teaching it.
Before you knew it, the class was over. Professor Reid told everyone to finish the assigned reading by next class in preparation for a discussion, dismissing the class and walking over to his desk. You gathered up your belongings and the remnants of your dignity before slowly making your way to the exit, lost in thought about the overlap between your field and his.
Your feet changed course before you could stop to think about what you were doing. When you tuned back in, you were horrified to find that you were walking towards Professor Reid. Right when you were about to turn around and try to escape without further embarrassment, you were stopped by his curious but friendly gaze. Ignoring your inner voice’s screams of horror, you composed yourself and made your way over to his desk.
He spoke before you could, greeting you with a small smile and a polite “how can I help you?”
“Hi! Um, I just wanted to come apologize for being late today. I promise, it’s really unlike me, and I just don’t want you to think that I don’t care about your class or anything, because it seems really cool so far and I’m so interested in seeing how this could apply to my research and I was only really late because of this dream I had-”
You stopped before going into detail, saving yourself from your nervous rambling, and he spoke your name hesitantly. Your confusion must have been apparent on your face, because he looked at your chest, clearly having made the connection from the word embroidered on it. The devil on your shoulder whispered that his eyes had lingered there longer than they needed to, but you dismissed that thought quickly.
“There’s no need to apologize, as long as you don’t make a habit of it we should be fine,” he reassured you, “and judging from how well you paid attention today, I have no doubt you’ll more than make up for it next class in the discussion.”
You bit back a smile at his praise, shocked he’d noticed you at all. You thanked your lucky stars he’d interpreted your staring as interest in the class, rather than the glaring sign of attraction that it would easily be identified as in any other setting. You quickly nodded, thanking him for his understanding and promising it wouldn’t happen again before exchanging goodbyes as you turned and walked out of the room.
Bursting out of the lecture hall, you finally filled your lungs with air fully, trying to regain some sense of control over your feelings. As you walked to the library to study, your mind wandered back to Professor Reid. It’s not like he’d ever feel the same way, what’s the harm in a little daydreaming? You decided you could live with a harmless crush. Keeps things interesting, you thought. Stepping into your castle of books, you pushed the events of the morning to the back of your mind, but one thought lingered: This is going to be one hell of a semester.
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
“SAINTS BEFORE SIXTH”
i have actually never posted anything like this on my tumblr - i'm kinda nervous ngl.
below you can find the blurb and entire first chapter of the fantasy novel i'm writing! 🤎 i'm so incredibly proud and wanted to share it with you :)
Andy was almost an adult now, not once in the past decade had she been entirely sober. This hadn't been a choice of her own; she didn't get many of those anymore after becoming a permanent resident in the Institute. She'd been permanently deprived of direct sunlight ever since her sixth birthday, on December 30th.
Meanwhile, her best friend claims to speak with his deceased parents and the Keepers found her newest ally before she did. They've been forcing him to use his powers for their selfish winnings, cruel violations like this could go unseen since the Warden disappeared.
Escaping the Keepers is one thing; they're still worlds apart from getting home - considering there's anything to come back to in the first place.
story : all rights reserved ; @porrokin
don't copy or claim this in any way; it is my work and belongs entirely to me.
THE ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER IS POSTED BELOW !
-
Never once during the past decade had Andy been entirely sober, that fact would, however, become even more disturbing when you considered she was barely eighteen years old. It hadn't been a conscious choice, at least not one of her own.
Ever since her sixth birthday - almost precisely twelve years ago - Keepers had taken the freedom of making decisions away from her. What she ate, where she slept, who she talked to, and whether or not she took her meds four times per day - which she did, much to her disliking.
The Keepers no longer informed Andy of their plans for her, they used to back when she was still enrolled in the program. Christiano was, though she wasn't sure if she always believed him when he talked about what he did during those three hours every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Sunday. Nine hours each week, that's how much time they did want to spend with her roommate. She was on her own, once again.
The line scurried along. Andy hesitantly followed as she took in the newly arrived smell of potatoes and spinach. Lunch must start soon, meaning the clock could say 12:55 am anytime now. The rest of the world outside was sleeping, in contrast to this place - heavily lit by beaming, quietly zooming tubes. The grey ceiling was covered in them, leaving nothing to go by without catching the eye of at least one Keeper. Andy didn't know why they lived during the night, rather than when the sun could cast real and natural light into the long, empty hallways. Probably to keep the public from asking much-needed questions about this place, or perhaps they did know but couldn't care enough.
Another name was called out - not hers. The girl in front of the line had been injected, she swiftly turned around and started walking in against the direction of the line. Back to her room, she went, another day of the same, mundane routine. Day after day, twelve years before you got away.
Long ginger hair draped over her slim shoulders, curls bouncing up slightly with every step she took. Her face looked tense; not unusual for this place, but it was rather strange to see from this girl. When their eyes met, Andy was surprised to see an almost luminescent light grey shade. The girl's eyes were once green but now reminded her of the colour of freshly polished silverware reflecting in the light.
As she walked past her spot in line, electricity seemed to flow through Andy's spine; causing her entire body to shiver. Her eyebrows shaped themselves into a slight frown, for a moment she glanced behind her to look at this girl for an extra second. She wasn't allowed to speak to anyone in white but her roommate, though by now she'd been here long enough to recognize who slept in the same hallway and who didn't.
A loud crackling sound disrupted the silence, a moment later the automated voice began to talk through the speakers. Same time every day, the same voice at exactly five minutes before 1 am. 'Ten minutes before lunchtime, those who have not yet received their injections will be expected back in Hallway 162B in exactly 45 minutes'.
In a matter of seconds, their plan was about to be set in motion.
Right away, rummaging sounds rose from the back of the line. 'I need Andy!', a familiar voice shakily called out. 'My roommate, Andy Donahue!'
'Not up to you, get back in line or I'll make you.' Andy recognized his voice as the heavier Keeper with the bushy, unmanaged moustache. He sounded calm, he'd been quick to tase someone in the past and would most likely have his beefy fingers wrapped around the device already.
She raised her hand and started walking towards the back of the line, her body shaking entirely as if it was freezing and she walked into the cold without any clothes on her limbs.
Without expecting it, she was forcefully yanked back from behind. Before Andy even had time to blink, her arms were locked firmly behind her back, wrists pushing hard against her spine.
'You too, now? Don't think you're an exception to the rules.' Captain Keeper; not because he's the leader, but he sure did like trying to boss the others around. She didn't answer him right away but rather tried to stretch her body and spot Christiano in the hallway. She couldn't.
'I'm his roommate, that's Irvine. Sometimes he freaks out in the presence of many people-' A sweaty hand roughly pulled her head back by her hair, causing her to face the ceiling. Her body alarmed her of the pain this caused to her neck. The bright lights made her eyes tear and she struggled to swallow.
'Did I tell you to open your mouth?' Clammy Hands scoffed.
She attempted to reason with him: 'Let me take him to our room so he can calm down.'
'Get back in line. Otherwise, I'll make sure you don't get out of solitary until snow melts.'
She managed to free her arm from his clammy grasp. 'I can ensure you-'
He reached for her, his face caught between anger and frustration. He was getting impatient, little was he aware that this was exactly Andy's will. She stumbled backwards to avoid him this time, successfully, both of them were surprised by it.
'Christiano will throw up. Do you want that to happen when..' She ever so slightly raised her chin, dramatically pausing for a moment as she raised her boney finger.
Andy continued. 'About six hundred kids still need their injections in this hallway? That seems to be a big inconvenience — if I am allowed to voice my opinion.'
'Sir.' she added. The encounter would surely have been more entertaining would her head not be pounding, the shakiness of her knees increasing by the second. She knew her body needed the meds she managed to rid this morning - she would deny this dependence at any cost if someone were to ask.
He sighed and resultantly nodded in Christiano's direction. 'Go. I'll know where to find you in five minutes.'
She did as told, anxiously searching the hallway for her roommate. So far everything was going just as she so meticulously planned; she was okay.
By now she imagined the time creeping closer to 1:00 am, breaks for the Administration would start in ten minutes; she only needed three. The two minutes after that meant for racing back to their room, in case Captain Keeper was indeed determined to stick to his earlier promise.
Something as cold as ice grabbed her hand, effortlessly disrupting her thoughts. Chocolate brown eyes met hers, a feeling of relief washed over Andy's body. Squeezing his hand, they swiftly disappeared behind the corner at the end of the hallway.
'You got the key?' Andy hushed her voice. Administration breakrooms were still in the same hallway as their offices. She wondered whether they got as little sunlight as the kids here did.
'I do. Traded my last blanket for 15 minutes of borrowing the thing, this place leaks of greedy bastards.' He grinned, accentuating his sharp facial structure.
'If you're right about the Bidding we'll be out of here soon enough anyway.'
'I am right.'
'I believe you.' She extended her hand for him to hand her the key. 'I want to prepare for everything, that's all.'
While Andy gained access to Ad 348H, Christiano leaned nonchalantly against the drinking fountain, his finger push-ready on the button. If she caught the sound of water running, she needed to hide. Christiano would have to sneak her back out after their lunchtime. Not the desired option, as this would be too close for comfort with the Administration break ending at the same time.
Thanks to Christiano's contacts she knew immediately which cabinet to find; about twenty seconds had passed already. Her hands rummaged through the several files and envelopes, one of the many drawers containing surnames with "D" as their starting letter.
She gasped audibly when finally skimming across her own, "Andy Donahue" it said. As she attempted to pull it out, the cardboard folder ripped on one end; the contents spilling out like jelly beans at an overwhelmingly disorganized children's party.
She cursed to herself as she attempted to fish for whatever just got lost within the mass amount of documents and belongings. A soft texture brushed against her finger and with some effort, she managed to grab onto it.
Her journal! Andy's heart skipped a beat, who knew they would've collected this in here after confiscating it years ago. Without hesitation she dropped it into the neck of her jacket, holding it against her stomach with her other hand. What else did she need? Her file was too big to ever sneak out in its entirety and to take this heavy notebook was already a reach.
A loud cough echoed into the room as if she had her fingers in her ears this whole time to block out the noise. Finally, the sound of splashing water seemed to reach her. She slammed the cabinet shut, somehow getting her black sleeve stuck in the process. No, no, this was bad - this was so awfully bad.
While securing the journal with her other arm she put her body up against the heavy metal cabinet and made a desperate attempt at freeing herself from its hold.
'Yes!', slightly too loud.
Within a moment she smoothly turned around, slamming herself against something and stumbling onto the cold concrete flooring.
'We really don't have time anymore, why didn't you come out when I signalled for you?', Christiano grabbed her free arm and hurriedly pulled Andy back up on her feet.
'I'm sorry!'
She followed right behind him, both came to a sudden stop once they'd realized what was waiting behind the walls of Ad 348H. At least six Keepers surrounded them in the hallway, pointing that same amount of stun batons in their direction.
Captain Clammy Hands was the one to break the silence: "Such a shame, Donahue."
-
© PHOTOGRAPHY : @/k_reckd [ TWITTER ]
to read more, check out my story on wattpad @/porrokin [ same as on tumblr ]
CREDIT WHERE IT IS DUE ; THE COVER
© PHOTO - MODEL : @/iiphugs [ TWITTER ]
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
FIGHT OR FLIGHT !
SUMMARY :: In which things are going great until they aren’t.
CHARACTERS :: Della Jang, Kang Yeosang, Jung Eunwoo, Lee Taeha
WORDS :: 3.5K
WARNINGS :: swearing, cheating, implied sexual content, fights ( if i missed anything let me know ! )
Della loved these late nights with Yeosang. It wasn’t much different from anything else she had done with her past partners, but for some reason late nights with Yeosang felt much, much better.
Della nudged her head farther down into Yeosang’s chest, making sure to keep her eye on the show playing in front of them. It wasn’t anything particularly interesting, the two of them just decided to play it as background noise while the two of them fell asleep.
“Dells,” Yeosang’s voice cut through her sleep-clouded mind, instantly waking her up a bit.
“Hm?”
“I just wanted to know if you were still up,” Della smiled at Yeosang’s quiet little laugh that he let out, running one of his hands down her arm. She could practically hear the small smile in his voice as he stared up at the ceiling and it made her heart skip a beat, knowing he was so content laying around doing nothing with her of all people.
“I’m trying not to be,” she mumbled, burning her head in the boy’s chest, though she couldn’t help but smile.
The boy laughed quietly, careful to not wake up any of his bandmates sleeping just beyond his walls. “I’ll let you get some sleep then,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss to Della’s head.
The two drifted into a comforting silence, the only sound and light in the room coming from Yeosang’s laptop. Della lived for these small little moments between the two of them. It had been so, so long that she had gotten to this part in a relationship with another person where they were comfortable sitting in silence, where she was comfortable sleeping in the same bed like this.
It felt strange to Della that her and Yeosang had fallen into this strong relationship so quickly, that was normally something Della shot down from the start, but for some reason she wasn’t worried about her relationship with Yeosang. Maybe it was the fact that he understood her well, never pushing her to do things she wasn’t comfortable with, making sure she knew that he wanted to be with her. Della wasn’t sure, but she knew that she felt safe with Yeosang and that wasn’t something she had felt since her last serious relationship.
They laid in silence for what felt like hours, and Della wasn’t even sure about how long it was, but she felt her eyes get heavy and her mind start to drift into sleep. She was close to drifting off to sleep when she felt Yeosang shift a bit, bring a hand up to run his fingers through her hair.
“Dells?” his voice cut through the silence, though it was much quieter than before, his voice laced with sleep, like he was seconds away from falling asleep. Della would have answered if she wasn’t so, so comfortable, just about to fall asleep.
“I love you,” his voice was soft, breath lightly brushing the hairs on the top of her head. Her heart dropped at the words, but she stayed still. She had to.
She mentally cursed the fact that those three little words had so much of an effect on her, the fact that those three words made her want to get up and run. Her heart rate picked up and she hoped that Yeosang couldn’t feel it pounding against her chest. She cursed the sheer irony of the conversation she had with Taeha just a few days ago.
It was too early for love. It was too early for love. It was too early-
The thought ran through her mind over and over, making her cheeks heat up and she could feel tears brimming in her closed eyes. Della stayed still, though, at least until Yeosang fell asleep. She couldn’t let him know the mental turmoil that was currently going on in her mind.
Della played with her fingers as she waited for Eunwoo to open her door. It had been days since her last encounter with Yeosang and she felt bad for constantly dodging the boy’s questions and pleas to hang out with him, but she couldn't do it. She wasn’t sure that if she stepped foot near Yeosang that she wouldn’t spill all of her insecurities, which she was sure would do nothing more than to scare the boy off.
So, she ran. She hated that she was far too good at that, but she couldn’t help the side of her that ran from anything and everything that gave her some sort of trouble. Some days she wondered if that was the only thing that she was good at.
Before she could go too deep into the thought, the door flung open, revealing a worried looking Eunwoo on the other side. She raised an eyebrow, moving to the side in an instant, not bothering to ask Della why she was there so late without so much as a warning.
Della wondered herself, why she pulled herself out of bed, slipping through the dorms without waking any of the other girls. It was late, she knew that at least. She racked her brain trying to remember the time on the clock beside her bed before she left the dorm. It was probably well after three in the morning and she really hoped that she didn’t wake Eunwoo up, though from the look of the girl, she could tell that her hopes would not be answered.
“What’s up?”
Nothing much, just freaking out because my boyfriend said he loved me. She wished the words would come out of her mouth, though she couldn't bring herself to actually look at the older girl and tell her that, instead she settled for a small shrug. She knew that Eunwoo would listen to her, probably even offer her some good advice, but she didn’t want the possibility of seeing any pitying glances from the girl.
“Did you and Yeosang fight or something?” the older girl laughed out, running a hand through her long hair while she watched the younger closely, looking for any signs of what happened. Della hated that she could read her so well. “I mean, I’ve barely seen you since the two of you have started dating. Is the honeymoon period already over?”
“Maybe I just wanted to see you?” Della shrugged, kicking off her shoes and making her way further into the apartment that she knew so well.
She could practically feel the roll of Eunwoo’s eyes from her spot behind her as she followed the younger. “Yeah, sure,” Della let out a loud laugh, plopping onto the couch at the older’s sarcastic tone. “We’ll go with that one.”
The two sat together in the living room, laughing quietly in hopes to not wake up any of Eunwoo’s neighbors. Eunwoo has put on an episode of We Bear Bears, one of Della’s favorite shows, as soon as they sat down, not wasting any time to start with the usual routine they had whenever Della was sad about any of her past relationships. There were very few people that knew Della as well as Eunwoo knew Della and it made her feel a lot better to see the little things.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Eunwoo questioned after a while, leaning against her hand that was perched on the back of the couch. She stared right into Della’s eyes, even though the younger was doing everything in her power to keep her eyes pointed at the TV, suddenly finding one of the episodes that she had seen loads of times far too interesting.
Eunwoo waited a couple of seconds, watching the younger closely, before she let out a sigh, shifting in her seat. “It has to do with Yeosang right?” she started, and Della knew she could see the way that she was fidgeting with the pillow as she listened. “I mean you guys either fought or broke up and you should probably talk about-”
Della couldn’t stand the words anymore, her heart rate picking up at the mention of Yeosang’s name. She shook the thoughts out of her head, doing the only thing that she could think of to get Eunwoo to stop talking and to calm the racing thoughts in her head. She quickly leaned forward, placing both of her hands on Eunwoo’s cheeks, placing her lips on the other’s in a searing kiss.
Eunwoo pulled back quickly, pushing at Della’s shoulder to keep her from leaning back in. “What about Yeosang?” her eyes were wide with questions and it made Della’s heart break. The thoughts came back, making her overthink everything that she was doing.
“Can we not talk about Yeosang? Please?” her voice sounded pleading and desperate, it almost sounded pathetic to her own ears, but she didn’t have time to think about that over the sound of her racing heart and the thoughts running in her mind. “PLease, Eunwoo, help me forget him tonight, please?”
Eunwoo looked at her, her brows furrowed. “Della, we should talk about what happened, you can’t keep bottling-”
“Please, Eunwoo,” she pleaded, leaning back in, connecting their lips again, in hopes that the older girl would drop the topic.
Eunwoo let out a sigh, thinking over Della’s words. “Fine,” she said after a moment. “But you need to talk about it tomorrow.”
Della nodded eagerly, connecting their lips together again, the kiss anything but slow and gentle. Della put everything she had into the kiss, shutting her mind off from the racing thoughts, even if it was just for a moment. The two fell together again, like they always have and always do.
The moment Della opened her eyes the next morning, she instantly wanted to take back everything that happened the night before. She mentally cursed herself as she pulled herself form Eunwoo’s bed, quickly throwing on her discarded clothes from the night before.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could she just throw away everything that her and Yeosang had because she was scared of three little words? They say ‘old habits die hard’ and Della wished she could go back in time, breaking her habit once and for all, finally letting herself be happy without worries of things going to shit after someone said ‘i love you’.
“You running out already?” the question shocked Della, pulling her out of her thoughts. She turned around looking over at Eunwoo, who was sitting on the side of her bed, pulling her shirt over her head.
“I just need to get back to the dorms,” Della replied lamely, knowing that Eunwoo wouldn't believe her for a second, but she could only hope that she wouldn’t call her out on it.
Eunwoo just raised an eyebrow, nodding her head slightly, and Della almost let out a sigh of relief. “What was last night all about?” she spoke too soon.
“What are those nights always about?” Della replied quickly, though she could feel her heart race at just the thought of everything she fucked up last night. “Look, I really need to get back, can we talk about this later?”
“Dells, talk to me,” the older said, fixing her pointed glare on the younger. “I’ve known you long enough to know that last night was different than normal.”
Della looked away from Eunwoo, pulling her lips in between her teeth to try and keep her lips from trembling. The tears felt like they were going to fall, but they couldn’t, she wouldn’t let them.
“Look, if it was something with Yeosang, we can talk about it. You know that, right?” Eunwoo started after a long silence, her intentions good, but the mention of Yeosang’s name made her mind shut down even more. “I know your last serious relationship was-”
“I fucked up last night,” Della rushed out, hoping she could stop Eunwoo from saying the one name that would make her break completely. “Yeosang said he loved me and I freak out, like I always do. I avoided him for days and finally last night I snapped and I came over her to try and get it out of my mind, but it didn’t work and I just feel like shit now. Is that what you wanted me to say?”
She gave Eunwoo a pointed look, but didn’t wait for the older girl to process everything she said before she turned on her heel, and made her way out of the room. She walked out of the apartment without looking back, she couldn’t, if she did the tears would fall.
Della didn’t stop anywhere, she just rushed to the practice rooms, hoping her memory served her correctly. The hallway was void of anyone, though it was pretty early in the morning and most people were finally getting a good night’s sleep after practicing well into the evening the night before. All except for the one person she needed to see.
Music flowed through the small hallway, quiet but still present in with no other noise around. The sound was muffled by the sounds of the walls, but it was easy to pick out the practice room the music was coming from and Della just hoped that she was right about who was behind the door.
She pushed open the door gently, poking her head in to see her boyfriend dancing to some song that she had heard many times before, but couldn’t quite place in the moment. His movements were graceful and soft as he moved around the room, his focus deep, not even noticing Della from where she could see herself in the mirror.
Della wished they could stay like this forever, her watching Yeosang’s graceful movements, while the boy was completely in his element doing what he loved. It calmed her and for the first time in days Della’s mind was still, no thoughts coming through, her mind focused on the boy in front of her. The thoughts made her heart twinge, knowing they couldn’t stay like this forever, not after what Della did.
The music stopped and the only sound in the room came from Yeosang’s heavy breathing. Della clapped a few times, a smile on her face, but she knew it didn’t her eyes. The boy’s head whipped around at the sound, eyes lighting up when he noticed Della there, leaning against the wall as she watched him.
“Della!” his voice was shocked, though she could hear the excitement in it and it made her heart hurt. “What are you doing here?”
He jogged over to where Della was standing, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, before shooting her a slightly concerned smile. Della knew she probably looked like shit, running on minimal hours of sleep, her hair and messed up from being at Eunwoo’s place last night. She probably should have stopped somewhere to make sure she didn’t have hickies littering her neck, that would just be the icing on top of the cake.
“I need to talk to you,” she started, unsure of what to tell him, but she knew she couldn’t keep in from him.
Yeosang nodded, though she noticed the light leave his eyes with her comment and she just hoped that he wouldn't completely break once she told him. She knew she couldn't handle that without breaking down herself, even if it made her sound selfish.
They stayed where they were, close to the door and Della almost felt safer for it, like she had some sort of escape in a way. She took a deep breath, steading her thoughts before she looked back up at Yeosang, confusion evident on her face.
“I fucked up last night,” she started and seeing Yeosang’s confusion only grow she rushed to continue. “And I completely understand if you hate me, because you have every right to, but I, um, I slept with Eunwoo last night.”
Della watched as Yeosang processed her words, the hurt coming onto his face in waves and Della wished she could do something to make it stop, to make it better, but she couldn’t. She became the one thing she never wanted to be.
“Why?” the word came out small after a long, long pause. It was so quiet Della was almost sure that she was hearing things. Just from one look at his face she could tell that he was trying to hold back tears, which hurt even worse than the hurt in his voice.
“I don’t know,” Della shook her head. She had no explanation that could make it better. “I just go scared because I heard you say that you loved me and I started over thinking things and I just wanted to stop thinking.”
The explanation only seemed to make things worse. “You can’t just do that, Della,” he replied finally, his voice sounding exasperated. “If you were worried about things you could have just come to me, I would have tried to make sense of it.”
Della nodded, staying quiet, there was nothing she could say that would make anything of what she did better, She deserved Yeosang to be mad at her, for him to be frustrated with everything that was happening.
“I know you’ve had some shit relationships, and I’ve been trying to help you work through them, but it’s been like a shot in the dark because you don’t tell me what’s going on,” he continued. “I mean, I knew something was up when you’ve been avoiding me, but I didn’t think it would be this and I just- I don’t know if I can be with someone that’s keeping things from me.”
Della waited a moment, making sure Yeosang was done. She refused to look him in the eye, too worried to see tears streaming down his face. He was calm, but he sounded close to tears, which made Della’s heart break.
“I take it we’re done,” she said quietly, meeting his eyes quickly before looking away. She could see the hurt running through them from the second she looked at him.
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice quiet and almost broken. “I guess we are.”
Yeosang moved quickly, grabbing his bag from the other side of the room and rushing out, barely able to look back at Della. She finally lifted her head after a moment, looking around the practice room with teary eyes. It only seemed fitting that they were in the same practice room they had their first date. Della let out a sad chuckle, sliding down the wall, putting head in her hands, trying her best to rub at the tears that had yet to fall.
After what felt like hours, Della finally peeled herself away from the wall and made her way back to her dorm. It was quiet when she opened the door and Della assumed that Jangmi and Jinri were already in the studio for the day, or they never even came back last night. Najoo was probably locked in her own room, though that wasn’t surprising considering she barely talked to the rest of the girls anymore. She rolled her eyes just thinking about it. Taeha was probably in their room and Della just hoped that she wasn’t sleeping, though from the time she’s roomed with the younger, she knew that she barely slept past 7:30 on a good day.
She stood dumbly in the center of the room for far too long, trying to decide if she truly wanted to go into her room. She loved the younger, but Della knew that Taeha would try to pry her emotions out of her and Della wasn’t sure if Taeha was fully ready for all of the emotions running through Della’s head right now.
After about another minute of Della standing in the living room, staring straight at the door to her room, the door opened, Taeha’s head popping out.
“You’re back!” she said cheerfully, her smile completely reaching her eyes. The younger girl had been a bit needy since her and Soobin broke up, not that Della really minded, though sometimes it was a bit exhausting. “I heard the door and I thought it was you, but then you didn’t come in so I was confused.”
Della smiled at the younger. “I’ll be there in a little bit, I’m just gonna go to the bathroom first.”
The younger nodded, poking her head back inside the room leaving Della alone again. There was no way she could go in there and hang out with Taeha with the way her mind was wandering right now. She made her way to the bathroom that all the girls shared, locking the door behind her as she pulled out her phone, dialing the number she knew by heart.
She sat herself down on the toilet, tapping her foot, listening to the long, long rings as she waited for the only person she knew to talk at this point.
“Dells?” the voice cut through her clouding thoughts, instantly clearing them. All it took was one word to get the tears she had been holding in to start falling.
“Siesie, I fucked up.”
#bbkoc#kpop oc#kpop addition#kpop au#kpop!oc#kpop!addition#kpop!au#koc#idol oc#idol au#idol addition#idol!oc#idol!au#idol!addition#kpop oc group#kpop oc gg#idol oc group#oc group#bts addition#ateez addition#blue moon :: dev#blue moon :: della#blue moon :: writing#della :: writing#yeosang IM SO SORRY#he only deserves the best
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Suspicious With A Side Of Concern
Words: 3.9k
Warning: a little cursing and a tad bit of suggestive themes. seriously, just a smidge. this is v mild and v soft
A/N: uhh hi there 😊 it's been awhile heh but it's San's birthday (one of my ults) and I managed to write this! it's probably not that great and it's not edited (bc it's after 5AM 👍🏻) so I'm sorry if it sucks or is full of mistakes, I may come back to it and fix them if there's a lot. but uhh yeah! I love my sweet boy so much and I'm so proud of him and I'm feeling v mushy lately hehe 🤭 and yeah, yeah, I know I’m not funny but I make myself laugh and that’s all that matters right? lol also this is pretty self-indulgent (hmm I’m noticing a theme in my recent works haha) but I hope you enjoy it anyways! happy birthday Sannie!!! I love you to the moon and back ❤️❤️❤️
San was suspicious. And a little concerned, too. The kind of 'suspicious with a side of concern' that can make feelings of offense and being forgotten crop up. In other words: not good. And what time could be worse to feel 'not good' than the days leading up to your birthday?
OK, so that clearly was not your intention when you had initially conjured up your plan for your, frankly, rather significant and audacious gift for San's birthday this year. Typically, you go all out with anything you get or do for San because he's just fun to spoil like that. Like in past years, you'd taken him on mini vacations or got him lots of small gifts and gave them to him over a period of a few days. And you always spent the entire week celebrating, not just the day of. So, logically, if you had actually formed a plan instead of just devising the end result of said non-existent plan, maybe you would have thought of how San might react to things being so different than years past. But 'foresight', what's that?
When you noticed San was more moody and petulant than usual, you tried your best to make things seem as normal as possible, not wanting him to catch on to your surprise. You had found him pouting at the kitchen table late one night, a few days before his birthday. "Sannie, baby. It's three in the morning, is everything OK?"
"Are you mad at me?" he blurted out unexpectedly, not answering your question. When he saw your confused expression, he continued, "I mean, did I do something wrong? Something to upset you? I swear it wasn't intentional and I'm sorry that I don't know what it is. I-"
"Of course not, babe!" you cut him off, "I was just worried because I rolled over in bed and you weren't there when I tried to cuddle up to you. But what makes you think that I'm mad at you, lovebug?"
You slid into the seat next to him as he sighed deeply. "I don't know, I just… God! This is gonna sound so stupid and selfish and spoiled!" Taking his hand in yours to silently reassure him, you squeezed his fingers slightly and softly rubbed your thumb along his knuckles. He took a deep breath before he tried to explain himself, "Umm, this whole week has been different than other years? Like, usually we do lots of stuff for my birthday and this year we haven't done much of anything and I'm not complaining because it's not that I expect a lot of presents or a vacation or something and I haven't said anything because I don't want to sound spoiled or like I think I'm entitled to a lot of big, expensive things, it's just that I'm not used to it I guess and I think it's making me feel like I did something wrong to upset you so you aren't treating me like you usually do as some sort of punishment, not that I think you'd actually do that to me because you're the sweetest thing in the world and I know you love me and I love you so much and I just-" San let out a frustrated groan and dropped his head to the table with a loud thud. He sighed again and lowered his voice to almost a whisper, "That did not come out like how I wanted it to."
The gears in your head were turning as you stared fondly at your boyfriend, a small, sad smile curving your lips. You felt horrible that San thought you were upset with him because, after all, that's the last thing you want. San and his happiness and contentment is the most important thing in your life. You also weren't sure how you were going to explain yourself without revealing the secret you were working so hard to conceal. Winging it seemed like the best option at the time since you could tell San was getting antsy about your silence.
"Sannie, can you look at me, please?" you began. When he lifted his head, your eyes found each other's, while your empty hand searched for his. "I'm so sorry that I made you feel like I'm mad at you! I promise you that I'm not even the slightest bit upset with you. You did absolutely nothing wrong -- you're perfect, baby." Releasing one of San's hands, you reached up to gently push away some stray hairs that had fallen into his eyes before running your fingertips across his pretty cheekbone. "You should know that none of what you said sounded stupid or selfish or spoiled. We've built up a sort of routine and a sudden change to that can be kind of disorienting. You have every right to be confused and I'm not going to make up excuses for how different things have been the past few days, I won't do that to you. In all honesty, I've been preoccupied and a little distracted. But I'm sorry that I let that get in the way and I promise that it won't happen anymore. And I'm so sorry that I've already made this your suckiest birthday ever and it's not even your actual birthday yet! That's definitely a new record for me, ruining something before it even happens." You mumbled the last part, ashamed at yourself and silently hoping San wouldn't hear that bit.
He let out a small chuckle that sounded much closer to normal San, easing your worry slightly. "It's not sucky and you didn't ruin anything, which by the way, you know I don't like when you put yourself down like that," the evident pout in his voice faintly reddened your cheeks with embarrassment despite the fact that he wasn't even scolding you. You whispered a quiet apology and San brought your left hand up to place a kiss on your knuckles. "You said you're preoccupied and distracted but I'm not going to press because I know you'll tell me when you're ready." When you thanked him, he tilted his head and looked at you with pure adoration and you felt his gaze travel over the planes of your face. "Thank you for understanding me, even when my words are messier than all us boys in white shirts eating wings with no napkins."
Trying, and failing to keep a straight face, the two of you dissolved into fits of giggles. "I thought you were going to be romantic or something but you said that and-" you cut yourself off with another loud laugh and shook your head, smiling endearingly. "I love you, cutie! But you're saying weird things so I think we should head to bed. Not that sleep will actually help you but we can always try." San shoved your shoulder as you stood before scooping you up in his arms and peppered kisses all over your face.
San had been in a great mood the morning of his birthday, considering he had woken up to you bustling about the kitchen making his favorite breakfast while wearing nothing but his oversized t-shirt. Strong arms and the frigid tip of San's nose against the junction between your neck and shoulder startled you, causing you to drop the spatula in your hand. He giggled softly at the small squeak you let out in surprise and squeezed you a little more snugly into his broad chest. "Mornin'," he mumbled against your skin.
"Hi," you chuckled as you shrugged him off to bend down to pick up the utensil that had fallen on the floor. You knew he was pouting when he had to let go of you and you could easily imagine the smirk that made its way onto his handsome face as he came up with his next idea, smacking your ass before you stood back up to place the dirty spatula in the sink.
You gasped in false offense, "How dare you!"
"Well, when you look like…" San gestured at you, his stare sleepy but very interested, "That, can you blame me?"
"I most certainly can! No 'Good morning! Happy Birthday!' kiss for you, mister!"
The pout returned to his face and damn, you're really weak for that pout. You sighed exasperatedly and threw your arms around his neck. "Good morning! Happy Birthday!" you announced with feigned emotion before pecking him on the lips and making an attempt to return your attention to breakfast. San had other ideas. He let out a sort of growl before effortlessly tossing you over his shoulder and strutting back towards your bedroom. "Wait!" you shouted weakly on account of San's shoulder uncomfortably pressed against your diaphragm, "Breakfast is gonna burn!" He paused in his stride, seemingly to try to decide on what to do, before turning and rushing to the stove to switch it off and then made a beeline for the mess of pillows and blankets he had left only moments before.
That afternoon, San was sprawled out on the sofa, a dreadfully bored look etched into his features as he flipped through the channels. Finding nothing to watch, he switched off the TV and turned to stare at the ceiling. The oscillating fan sat on the small end table next to the couch ruffled his hair and thoughtfully provided an awful high-pitched squealing sound as background noise for the otherwise quiet living room. Nervously staring at the clock on your phone while draped over a chair opposite the couch, your mind was racing to come up with an excuse for leaving the house a few minutes later. You had an appointment to keep aka "The Plan". Making a disgruntled noise, you pushed yourself out of your seat and made a command decision on what to say, "Uhh, I'm gonna go to the store to pick up some stuff for umm, for later." Failing miserably at sounding natural, you gestured toward the door and faced it.
"Ooh!" San shouted and you heard rustling like he was getting off the couch. "Let me come! I'm so bored."
You couldn't help the mischief that made itself evident over your features as you turned back around. "But coming along will spoil the surprise, don't you think?" Pleading puppy dog eyes and his cutest pout decorated San's face in response. "Nuh uh, not even that will work on me today!"
Sam's expression morphed into a combination of astonishment and amazement as he plopped back down onto the sofa, "Shit, this is serious if not even the pout can sway you!"
You nodded ruefully, "It's a special day."
Ping! A message came through on your group chat with the boys, made specifically for this plan and thus excluding San, and when you went to read it, you heard San mumble under his breath but couldn't quite make out what he said.
Joong-bug: outside with Woo! let's goooooo!!
Several more text alerts sounded off and San eyed you suspiciously.
Woo 🐻: C'MON I'M SO EXCITED!!!!!!!!
Joong-bug: aaaaaand this is why he's forbidden contact with 'The Target' until 'The Plan' is complete…
You: Be down in a minute!
Joong-bug: hurry up!! he won't stop whining and pouting 😣
Mingo Mango: getin' ready 2 bust the door down now 😈
You: Jongho, I'm trusting you to keep them from breaking things
Hulk 🍎: You have my word 👍
Yeo-Yeo: Pfffft like that means anything 😒
Y'know: hey, i asked you to chop vegetables!! why are you on your phone?? 😡
Yeo-Yeo: You're on yours!
Mars: ……….help
Suddenly, you could hear two rather loud voices outside, gradually getting louder as they made their way to your front door. "Ah, you're in luck, sweetpea! Here comes your entertainment now!" Without giving Mingi the opportunity to "bust the door down", you quickly threw it open and in he stumbled with Jongho trailing more gracefully behind him, chuckling. San's face lit up in excitement and he bounced gleefully over to his friends. Mingi shouted something about playing ball and San whooped in agreement, causing you to chuckle fondly as you snuck out the door they had just come through since your boyfriend was already well and truly distracted.
Hongjoong and Wooyoung quickly came into view as you made your way down the last of the stairs, the younger hopping around like an over-excited bunny when he spotted you. He called your name loudly and ran to squeeze you and consequently hang off of you, grin bright and eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Hi there, bear," you giggled and squeezed him back before turning to Hongjoong. "You said he was whiny but you didn't mention he was extra clingy, too." No hint of annoyance in your voice, Wooyoung nuzzled into your shoulder and sighed happily.
Hongjoong shrugged, smiling affectionately at the younger, "I thought it was to be expected."
"It is a little hot for cuddles though, Woo," you told Wooyoung honestly and he nodded in agreement, letting go and scurried towards the parked car, screeching about being late. Hongjoong shook his head as he watched Wooyoung abruptly fling the door open and sit in the passenger seat, eagerly bouncing in place and urging the two of you to hurry up. "Everything all set?" you asked the older as you walked side by side to the car.
Rascality twinkled in Hongjoong's eyes, "Yep! All the stuff is either in the back seat or the trunk, ready to go!" You smiled and scrunched your nose at him before you both joined Wooyoung in the car and headed off to your destination.
A couple hours later, the three of you returned to your house, San's birthday gift sat on the back seat next to you. Wooyoung was animatedly squirming in his seat, teeth clenched together in a wide grin in an effort to suppress his squeals of joy. "Good grief, Woo! It's gonna be somewhat of a let down if you're more excited about this than San ends up being," you teased him fondly, reaching for your phone to get updates from the group chat.
You: We're back!! 🤭
Yeo-Yeo: Lemme guess, Woo's about to piss himself from excitement
You: 😂 correct. Update on 'the Target'?
Hulk 🍎: 'The Target' is about to get in the shower, Mingi and I will head down now
Y'know: you can't just leave him!! you gotta at least give an excuse!!
Hulk 🍎: You can't see me but I'm rolling my eyes right now. Mingi told him we're going home to shower, which isn't an excuse, it's the truth. We'll just jump in with everyone later 👌
Y'know: you didn't give anything away did you??!!
Hulk 🍎: 😒 yes. We told him every detail. Of course we didn't!
Mingo Mango: all good! we made it seem like we were leaving 4 the night! told him happy bday and everything 😉
Y'know: … :/ …
You: … I'm slightly concerned but alright. How's 'The Plan'?
Yeo-Yeo: Yunho is worried out of his mind now but we're cool, just waiting on the cue
Mingo Mango: you mean the Q 😉👍
Hulk 🍎: He tripped down a few stairs while he was typing that ^
Yeo-Yeo: 🖕 (deserved)
You: Hwa? Still have your sanity?
Mars: *sigh* … barely
You: You replied so I'm courageously going to take that as a positive. You guys can head over as soon as Jongho and Mingi are ready. I'll text when it's good to come up.
Yeo-Yeo: OK
Y'know: k
Mars: yes
Laughing at their insanity and tucking your phone away, you glanced up to find Mingi and Jongho walking towards the car so you got out and attempted to get a little more information. "You guys have fun?" you asked, smiling warmly.
The boys beamed and nodded. "Lots!" Mingi stated, bouncing on his toes energetically.
"San seemed really happy so that felt," Jongho paused and rubbed at the back of his neck, "Nice." You felt your heart squeeze a little, knowing just how much San loved and valued the boys no matter what. "And we didn't break anything, just like I promised!" Jongho added proudly, puffing out his chest a little.
You ruffled his hair fondly before yanking your hand away in disgust, "Ick! So sweaty! Go shower! I'll see you two in a bit." The youngest laughed brightly and gave you a wave before heading off with Mingi offering a salute and stumbling after him. Making your way around the car, you opened the car door and gathered the gift into your arms. "I owe you two," you smiled and Hongjoong shook his head and chuckled. "Thank you!" Wooyoung giggled as you resituated the present in your grasp. "Don't forget the rest of the stuff when you come up later, please!" Hongjoong gave you a thumbs up and you shut the door with your hip before making your way up to give your boyfriend his surprise.
Unlocking the door and being as quiet as possible entering the house in an effort to sneak up on San was quite difficult but you managed. Luckily, he had his back to you, actually sitting normally in a chair for once and humming softly to himself. Stifling a giggle with your hand, you brought everything inside and shut the door, impressed with yourself at how quiet you were and hoped the gift would be just as silent. Slipping your shoes off to avoid more noise, you took one gift in each hand and tiptoed toward San.
You instinctively held your breath as you neared your boyfriend and tried not to squeal or giggle. In that moment, you definitely felt Wooyoung's enthusiasm. Right hand gently setting one gift on the top of San's head and left hand reaching around the phone in his hands to place the other present in his lap, you heard him gasp in shock. "Happy Birthday, sugarplum!"
The small kitten on San's head let out a tiny squeak of a meow and the puppy in his lap timidly licked at his arm. San tried to say something but all that came out was broken words and stutters. He reached up to pluck the kitten from his head and you helped untangle a strand of his hair from the kitten's tiny claws before he set it next to the puppy on his lap and turned part way around to look up at you. Tears were already falling, the tracks they left glinted in the sunlight that came in through the living room window and his bottom lip wobbled slightly, "Y-you. B-but. What?"
You slowly walked around the chair and crouched down in front of San, beaming and a little teary-eyed yourself at his reaction. "What do you think, Sannie? Does this make up for the difference in these past few days?" He choked out a sob and nodded fervently, lip still trembling as he stared down at the animals clumsily perched on his thighs.
San sniffled and lifted the puppy up to eye-level. It leaned closer to him and licked at the salty streaks on his cheeks. San laughed wetly and set the puppy back down before lifting the kitten up the same way and nuzzling his nose into its soft fur. After admiring them for a few minutes and calming himself down, San glanced at you, "This is what you were preoccupied with?"
You nodded and hummed faintly, "But not just this!"
Your boyfriend furrowed his brow and groaned a little, "There's more? I don't know if I can handle any more! I feel like I've had at least a dozen heart attacks in the last 5 minutes already!" You chuckled adoringly as San pouted at his puppy and kitten, talking to them about how his heart wasn't meant for stuff like that. While he was distracted, you shot a text to the group chat.
You: 'The Plan: Part 1' = ✅COMPLETE! Commence 'The Plan: Part 2'!
Woo 🐻: AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
Yeo-Yeo: 😒
Hulk 🍎: That emoji may imply that Yeosang is rolling his eyes but he's actually staring at Wooyoung with the most fond, loving look in his eyes
Mingo Mango: heh Yeo just 🤜 Jongho in the 💪
You rolled your eyes and chuckled, waiting for the boys to come up and actually "bust down the door". Moments later, a cacophony of voices burst through the quiet room as the guys threw the door open.
"Happy Birthday! We brought food!" Yunho shouted as he muscled multiple grocery bags into your kitchen, followed by Yeosang and Seonghwa who were also carrying armloads.
At the same time, Wooyoung screamed, "Babies!" and headed straight for San and the puppy and kitten. The two boys giggled together and fawned over the animals while some of the boys loudly scuttled around the kitchen and the others went to greet the birthday boy and the new additions. You headed into the kitchen to see if you could help with anything.
Seonghwa looked less frazzled than you expected and his kind eyes lit up when they met yours. "Anything for me to do?" you asked him, going over to wash your hands in the kitchen sink.
He gave you a characteristic wonky smile as he bumped your hip with his, "I think you've had quite the day as it is!"
"Me? What about you? You sure have lots of beautiful hair despite dealing with so many children all the time!"
Seonghwa's smile was one of pure reverence, "I wouldn't have it any other way."
You tugged him into a tight hug. "I know," you whispered, "Thank you." Before he could say anything, you pulled away to look him in the eye, "And before you say 'You don't have to thank me' or whatever, thank you. I mean it and you have to accept it or I'll pout." He laughed heartily and nodded, eyes sparkling with joy as he went back to getting food put on the table.
You went around hugging and thanking the rest of the boys for all their contributions to San's special day and then gathered everyone up to sit at the table for dinner. The kitten and puppy played together peacefully and everyone glanced over at them once in awhile to coo at their cuteness.
Chatter was loud and warm, just the way it should be. San absolutely glowed with happiness and at one point when all the boys were laughing and carrying on together, he leaned over to you to whisper in your ear. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"
"Only every day," you beamed, booping his nose gently.
He giggled and leaned even closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips, "Thank you," another kiss, "Times a million," another, "for making me," yet another peck, "so, so happy," and another, "I love you," and one more kiss. You grabbed his face so he couldn't pull away from the last one but it was a little difficult to kiss when you both were smiling so wide.
A chorus of "Ew!" and "Gross!" and "NOT AT THE DINNER TABLE!" echoed behind you so you reluctantly pulled away, giggling all the while.
"OK, OK!" you held your hands up in defeat before resituating. "Alright, on the count of three," San looked confused all over again but you sent him a reassuring wink. "One!
"Two!
"Three!"
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAN!"
#ateez#ateez san#san#san fluff#ateez san fluff#ateez fluff#kpop fluff#bias/bias wrecker writing#happy birthday san
50 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
edeer
the gods are gone, but you remain
a7snoneed
sma
daaveed
Commander Smiley
weeabootg-001
Japanese Pop-Culture
takotsubosekai
蛸壺世界