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we-out-here-simping · 4 days

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Kiss it away, honey.

(s.h. x reader)

from the river to the sea. (get in your daily clicks, read about it, donate if you can.)

summary: you have a perfect and loving boyfriend, and everything should be great but something is just not right.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: use of y/n, no pronouns used (gn!reader), use of pet names (honey, etc), codependency, dark themes, a new flavor of jealousy, horror (spookies and scawies), gore, murder

a/n: yall remember when i was yapping about clones and all that? yeah. I went a lil feral while writing this lmao✌️🤪

another banger by @procrastinationprincesses and I on tumblr dot com. Thank her for listening to me babble on and just helping me sift through the different routes this could go and also being what is basically my proofreader

i might write a part two of this. do not ask me when.

masterlist

You haven’t changed out of your work clothes yet, staring at the phone on the wall.

It was silent now but it had rung, blaring, louder than you'd ever heard it before. Five times it had rung.

5 calls– 5 missed calls. Unknown number. No voicemail.

You hadn't picked up. You had just stared, you weren’t sure why– the ringing scared you. you weren't sure why but every fiber in your being had coloured you stuck– immovable even if you wanted to do otherwise.

Now it had stopped, empty as vacuum, dead quiet left in the wake of those shrill rings.

And just when you were about to let out a sigh of relief, just when you thought you could finally get to changing out of your work clothes, it started ringing again, your temples hurt from its shrill notes.

Your nostrils flared, you will not cower, no, you huff of frustration before stomping towards the phone. Its red plastic is just as bright as it had been when you had first gotten it with Steve.

It's probably just a prank call. It's a prank call. A stupid kid doing a stupid prank call. Why the hell is your heartbeat so loud?

You pick up the receiver, gripping it tight, ready to give the prank caller a piece of your mind.

Hello? Hey you stupid shithole, find something better to do with your stupid, pathetic life, why dont ya’? Good fucking night.

“He– hello?”, your voice comes out nowhere near as fierce as you had wanted it to be.

The line is silent for a second or two. But then you hear a gasp and then some rustling, crackle. You strain your ears, the sounds seemingly impossible to decipher, “hello, who– who is this?”

You think you hear muffled crying, after a few seconds they finally speak up, “y/n”, their voice is of a woman's. “y/n–” is all they choke out before breaking out into a sob. She says your name as if she hasn't said it in a long while, as if she can't believe she’s saying it. And you don’t know why but you feel your eyes sting. You press the receiver closer to your ears, the plastic creaks under your grip. you think you recognise her. The realisation hits you that you do. She sounds familiar.

“y/n, my baby where–” you hear a click, followed by beep beep beep beep, indicating that the call has been disconnected. This time you blink, a tear finally trickles down your cheek. You stare at the receiver, the beeping barely audible. You take in a deep breath, and dial the number again, waiting for the ring or the woman’s voice.

The ring never comes, her voice never comes. Invalid number.

You stare at it. If you were to look any harder, you think the plastic would melt. Too many thoughts were running through your head. And why the hell are you crying?

You hear the jingle of keys followed by the sound of the door opening. You tear your burning gaze away from the phone to the clock. 7:08 p.m.

“Steve?”

“Yeah!” he answers back immediately, you hear the door shut, the keys in his hand jingle again followed by the clink of them landing in the ceramic ashtray-turned-bowl next to the door where you keep your keys.

Any other day you would have walked to him, and even if he’d be in the middle of taking his shoes off he’d stop, give you a loving smile, hold his arms up, ready to engulf you into a hug. Any other day, you would have wrapped your arms around his torso, kissed his shoulder before burying your nose into his neck.

He is the only one who could ever fix you, everyday you come from work, bags under your eyes, tired to your bones and everyday he comes and puts you all back together as if it was the easiest thing to do, as if he was made for it. And you want to go to him so bad. Any other day, you would have. But today doesn't seem like any other day.

“Hey honey”, he finally comes around the corner and he gives you that smile you love being on the receiving end of, all lazy and adorning, “haven't changed out yet?”

You look back down at yourself, and you see that you had still been stuck, body still facing the wall where the phone hung. you indeed haven't changed out yet. You barely shake your head before his brows scrunch up, “You okay? Your eyes look all red”

You blink before shaking your head, “Uh, yeah, yeah. I’ll go ch–”

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

What you were saying is left abandoned, your head snaps towards where the phone is.

“I’ll get it. You go change,” Steve tells you, not noticing your immediate panic. As he ambles to the phone, you slowly shuffle away– moving towards the bathroom, making sure to listen in on the conversation. “Hello?” you hear him speak into the receiver, he pauses for a second and so do you in your tracks, “..oh hey, Henderson'', you breathe out in relief at hearing the familiar name, “Yeah, yep, doing good. How’s the new place treatin’ ya?”

The audibility of his words lessens as you continue on your way to the bathroom. In the small, tiled room, your own breathing echoes, it engulfs you. you immediately regret not just changing in your room because you can't hear Steve’s voice anymore. But you have already locked the door. You weren’t sure why you did– maybe it was your uneasiness and apprehension but normally you never lock the door because your ever clingy Steve loves joining you in, majority of the time there is nothing sexual about it. Most of the time he just stands there by the door, that same adorning smile on his lips.

When you step out of your jeans, it rings in your brain, again and again. The piercing ringing of the phone, the woman’s voice. You know that voice. You know that voice. You know that woman, you are certain. It is like its on the tip of your tongue, like it is obscured behind a frosted glass, like an itch you can’t scratch.

A knock on the bathroom door breaks you out of your thoughts, “uh honey?” the voice comes muffled through the wood, “Are you done? Need to take a piss.”

“Yeah, just–” you quickly hop into your shorts, balling up your dirty clothes and tossy them into the laundry basket before unlocking the door.

And he is there, that smile blooms across his face, “there you are”, and then his lips are on yours, his wide palm comes to hold your face, thumb rubbing softly at your cheeks— he’s a tactile being, your boyfriend, loves holding your face, loves holding you, touching you anywhere.

When his fingers burrow into your hair behind your ear, you somehow manage to breathe out between the deepening kisses, “Thought you had to take a piss”

“Don't bring up pissing when I’m kissing you”

“Oh, but its okay when you wanna hold my hand while pooping?” He once told you he’d hold your hand while pooping if you’d let him– he had been absolutely drunk, maybe high off weed– inebriated, really and didn't remember saying it the next day. you love to tease him about it. he groans at the mention.

“I was high”, he whines, embarrassed, “I told you I didn't mean it.”

“Drunk words… sober thoughts, honey.”

“You said it was endearing”

“It is endearing but still a weird thing to say”, you laugh all toothy and cute.

“Whatever, I gotta piss”, he mumbles trying his best to hide his smile before moving you by your shoulders to swap places with you so it’s him who is in the bathroom. He shuts the door, the sound of the lock clicking never reaches your ears.

You’re left alone with your thoughts again, and your smile fades away– you’re anxious, you know that much. You’re not so sure of what exactly. You plop down on the edge of the bed, leg bouncing restlessly, finger tracing over the pattern of the sheets. The pillows and comforter are set up perfectly for the night– every morning Steve sets the bed while you shower knowing you always get frustrated with the task.

Your back sinks into the mattress, you breathe out, deep and slow, eyes closing on their own accord. You almost fall asleep for a second, but the bathroom door clicks open. A few seconds later, the bed dips beside you, the fabric rustles, “tired?” the question is followed by a groan. When you peak a look, you find him stretching out his arms beside you.

“Absolutely”, you answer.

“Yeah, me too,” he sighs out.

“We still have to make food.”

He lets a frustrated groan tumble from his lips, “can't we just have mac and cheese today?”

…

The night goes by in a breeze, not a lot of talking.

The love is still there though, in the way that Steve holds the corner of the open cabinet door to make sure your head doesn't hit it, in the way he lets you sit on the countertop while waiting for the water to boil over, in the way you stare at him when you think he isn't looking, in the way you pull his hand over your lap and massage the tight muscles of his palm while he stirs the pot with his other hand.

You put on his favourite show when he plates the food, he makes sure to put some chives on your plate to make it look a little more pretty for you. You watch the show in silence, eating under the flickering light of the tv. You let it play in the background while you wash the dishes, it is Steve who watches you this time, his head resting against the cabinets behind him. and he thinks he could watch you all day. Something about doing the most mundane things with you makes him feel all warm and lovely. He is sure that past anything grand and dramatic, its the everyday things that show love. He hopes in every world, he gets to hold you and love you. He thinks he'll give it all up just to be with you, just to watch you wash dishes, just to have you sit beside him while he cooks.

When the dishes are done, he makes sure the doors are locked, you turn off the lights and the TV. Before you know it you’re in bed, and before you know it, you’re already falling asleep.

…

At first you weren’t sure why you were awake. Then you hear shuffling behind you, and you barely even roll over when there is a warm hand on your hip, “honey,” he whispers– voice all scratchy and low that makes you melt, you hum for a response, “I’m sorry honey, wake up please”, his tone is slightly rushed, you’re a bit more awake at that.

Barely did you sit up when he engulfs you in a tight hug. You hold him back without a thought or hesitation. Your hand rubs his back, his arms tighten around you, nose nudging into your neck, his skin warm. your fingers find their place in his messy head of hair like they always do, you card through the strands. He pulls you closer, and then you're in his lap. He holds you like a boy holds his favourite toy– like he doesn't plan on letting go.

“Want some water?” After some time you ask softly. You feel him nod into the junction of your neck.

He loosens his hold on you enough for you to climb out of his lap. Not saying a word, he follows you to the kitchen, and he stays close when you pour him a glass. He is mid-gulp when you ask, “nightmare?”

He nods once, the rogue strands on his forehead bouncing with the movement, and downs the water before saying a soft ‘yeah’.You take the glass from his hands and place it in the sink, and lead him back to bed.

You brush aside his disheveled hair. You tuck yourself into his side, an arm around him, “wanna talk about it?” you ask softly, fringernails scratching his faint stubble.

In the dim of the room, you see his adam's apple bob. Apparently, he does want to talk about it, because he nods– the movement barely noticeable but there. You put your head back on his chest and you wait patiently, trying your best not to fall back to slumber.

It takes him a while before he starts, “You were…” his hand moves to hold yours, “you were sick–in the hospital, these wires and tubes attached to you. Y-You had been there for months. You were sick and you wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't even look at me. And– and…. Then the– the damn heart monitor–”

“Honey–”

His words are frantic and uneven, “I didnt– I didnt know what to do after. I didn’t–”

“Steve—” you hold his face to make him look at you, “I'm here.”

He licks his lips, then swallows, nodding. he pushes his face forward so your foreheads are touching. “I know", his nose is hot against yours, "it was still awful.”

You both lay that way for a while. Your thumb brushing against his red cheek, he sniffles a couple times. you hate seeing him this way, with his lashes clumped together, his beautiful eyes all red. The moisture glistening under his eyes doesn't let you fawn over his freckles like you'd normally wish to.

When his skin is a little less warm, and his heartbeat calmer beneath your fingertips, you kiss him. Your hand snakes up to hold his face. Fingers, softly rubbing over the spot behind his ear that makes him melt. You kiss him all slow and purposefully, so he knows that he has all the time in the world.

When you pull away, he murmurs, “Can we go back to sleep?” he pulls you closer, face burying into your neck, warm puffs of breath against your collarbones.

You land a quick kiss on his eyebrow before resting your chin above his head, “‘course”

...

You wake up to the alarm clock on Steve’s side of the bed. He turns off the thing before rolling around in your arms onto his back and then turning his head to face you. “Hi”, he smiles that way again and you do the same, sleepy as ever.

“Hi”, you say still half asleep– you ended up not getting a lot of sleep last night. Thankfully you had the day off today, so you plan on being unproductive and sleeping it away.

He stretches, a yawn escaping him, “Jesus, I so don't wanna go to work today”, your boyfriend laments.

You hum, “then don't go” you propose, eyes still closed, “We can both have a day off”

He turns his body so it faces you, leaning on his elbow. His hand moves to your waist before massaging the love handle there “hmm, tempting. I can't though”

“No fun”, you mumble groggily.

“Hey, don't fall asleep on me”, he brushes the hair that falls on your face with the back of his hand.

"But ‘m sleepy", you mumble into the pillow.

"Aw, don't worry, I will kiss it away, honey." He leans down, a smirk painted across his features. His soft lips land on your cheeks first, then one on your nose, they follow a trail that leads to your lips.

You hide your face in the pillow before your lips could meet though, “No, No kissing!” you giggle, holding up your palm to his face, effectively blocking his attacks, “no kissing before brushing your teeth!"

“You're no fun”, he rolls out of the twist of sheets. He stretches his arms, the muscles rippling beneath the skin– he's trying to entice you, seduce you. and if you weren't so damn sleepy, you would have climbed him up like a koala. He gets up to go to the bathroom. When he notices that you haven't moved, he pulls you by your ankle. You let out a surprised shriek that transforms into giggles when you feel his fingers creeping up your torso– tickling you. ”Here comes the tickle monster!”

A fit of giggles erupts from your throat, "What are you–", your question gets interrupted by your own laughs.

"The tickle monster will not relent unless you wake up!"

“No! Okay, okay, I'm awake! Steve! I am awake!”

The two of you share the cramped space of the bathroom. It is small, but its the best you could afford. So when you brush your teeth together, you try to relish it when your elbows bump. And when you're done, he kisses you as if he waited ages.

By now, you're a bit more awake so you decide to get his breakfast ready while he takes a shower. It's simple enough, waffles with banana and some coffee. When he comes back out, he kisses you again when he sees you at the stove, this time on the crown of your head.

When he is getting his keys to leave, he gives you another peck, “drive safe", you murmur against his lips..

“I will. You get some sleep, yeah?” you hum and nod in response. You both bid your goodbyes before he turns to leave.

You decide to eat the leftover waffles and clean up a little before returning to your bed. You make yourself a plate with the bananas neatly cut and placed beside the waffles. You drizzle maple syrup, and then start eating the sickly sweet breakfast, skipping the coffee. While you're pouring yourself a second helping of the maple syrup, the expiration date on the bottle catches your eye. expired more than a year ago. ew.

Your face scrunches in disgust before immediately throwing it in the trash. And you wonder how the hell either of you hadn't gotten food poisoning yet. then it hits you, from what you remember you bought that bottle only a couple months ago. Did you buy an already expired one?

You open the fridge, the condiments and bottles staring at you. One by one, you check each and every one; ketchup, expired. Hot sauce, expired. Whipped cream, chocolate sauce, milk– expired, expired, expired.

What the fuck?

You throw it all out and make a point to call Steve later to buy everything as he often calls to ask if you had to get something from the store. And that makes you wonder, when was the last time you actually told him he needed to get something?

You try not to think too much about it. Honestly, you don't know what to make of it, so you decide to go back to sleep.

…

You hear your name. Its faint. It echoes. Like a whisper in a church.

“y/n”, you know that voice. “I– I know you’re there, y/n”, the woman says, all shaky but sure. “y/n”, she repeats. Its that voice… again.

Who are you?

“Its me, y/n! Its me!” she exclaims as if that would make you remember.

I don't ... understand.

“Baby, just tell me where you are– I'll find you.”

I’m home.

“Home? No– no baby, you’re not. You haven't been home—” her voice gets cut off. It becomes too loud. You feel as if the veins in your temple are going to explode. Its too loud to even tell what it is you’re hearing. Its a static like a radio or a TV, or maybe its wind, maybe its cars, maybe its screams. You think you hear sirens– you wonder if they’re the police or an ambulance. You hear your own breathing, your own heartbeat. Its deafening. And beneath it all, you hear….. Ringing.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

Your eyes fling open and you see your ceiling, you smell the faded mixture of your perfume and Steve's cologne. You’re in your bed. You still hear the ringing. The phone.

You are up in a second. Rushing towards the origin of the sound. When you’re there, you dont wait a second, the plastic is already to your ear.

“Hell– hello?” it comes out all out of breath and broken.

“Honey, you’re– you okay?” its not the voice of that woman.

“...Steve?”

“Who else?”, he chuckles, “you okay?”

“Uh– yeah,”you clear your throat, “I was um– sleeping. I think I just had a dream..” your hand creeps up to the back of your neck, scratching there to try to alleviate a little bit of the ache.

“Oh, well okay sleepy. I just wanted to check if you need me to buy anything? Like, groceries or whatever on my way back.” you give him the entire list of everything you wanted him to get. You would've talked more if Steve hadn't been interrupted by a customer. Nevertheless, you said your 'I love you's and the call ended.

Your heart is still loud in your ears but the ache has dulled down for the most part.

that voice. that woman.

Its me.

I’ll find you.

You haven't been home.

"Home..", you say out loud to yourself. Home.

...

Hours have passed. you think you’re losing your mind because you have turned the apartment upside down. you're surrounded by boxes, most of them filled with normal things, your tattered rollerskates, shoes, old clothes. Most of it was normal, except one.

One unlabeled box you found in the corner of your closet. You haven't touched that box in ages, not since your fallout with your family, lying out of sight and out of mind. It didn't have a lot, all packed in a hurry. things you'd had in your room. picture frames, some books, clothes, papers.

You pick up a frame. The picture was from when you were a twelve-year-old. Wearing what were your favourite clothes back then, your hair in a manner that made you feel a little sorry. You're so different now, yet somehow its still you. There's your older sister, her braces glimmering under the flash of the old camera– her smile wide. Your dad, who doesn't ever know how to pose in pictures. Your mom, she holds you and your sister by your shoulders, a soft smile on her lips, her makeup done perfectly. Another picture from your high school. Another of you with your sister and cousins.

You pull out the books, the pages are slightly yellowed and they have an earthy smell to them that you love. Pages you don't remember reading, dog-eared and written in.

Then there's the papers– some doodles, some notes, a few maps, some scraps and then.... a file. the file that has your name written on it. And when you open it; medical papers. medical bills. They are a little more than a year old. This wasn't a small stay apparently. From what you can tell from the dates on the bills, it lasted months. You don't remember going to the hospital.

Okay, what the actual fuck?

You find yourself reading through all the details of the paper on the floor of your closet.

months. you had been there for months. Steve's dream.

The entire time, you read and re-read the papers. Why don't you remember any of this? Why does Steve not remember any of this? Maybe he does, he had that dream after all, right? Why are there no discharge papers?

Hours pass. It's maddening, how slow the time passes. Its absolutely maddening. What the fuck does it mean that you haven't been home? You are home. and who the fuck was that woman?

You look through the box again, its contents scattered around you by now. The photos. Your family. Your parents. You miss them. You haven't seen them in so long...

Some broken memories have come to you. You had left– run away. You don't remember why. Then you met Steve when you were stopping by in Hawkins for a few months. You fell in love so quickly. Then one day, you asked if he wanted to run away with you. He said yes and you both left Hawkins and came here.

You don't remember much after that.

Wait, where is hawkins? and why did you go there?

...

It is 7 p.m. and you are pretty sure you have lost your mind. Why isn't Steve home yet? You need Steve. He's the only one who could ever fix you. And now, you need him to fix you again. You need him to fix this, to make some sense of this.

You are sitting by the door, eyes fixated on the hands of the clock.

7:01, nothing. Your arms fidget.

7:02, nothing. Your leg bounces.

7:03, 7:04, 7:05, 7:06, 7:07; nothing, nothing, nothing.

Then, 7:08 p.m., rattle of keys and the sound of the door being closed. Steve. Steve is home. Steve.

You're up on your feet instantly, Steve comes in holding a bag of groceries in one hand and his keys in the other, “I was so worried about you!” you say all hysterical.

“Worried, why?" he says, almost chuckling, but his brows furrow before he looks down at his wristwatch, shaking his head,"I don't think I’m late.” He leans in to land a kiss on your lips, but before he could do so, you turn your head away, “whats– whats wrong?”

“Can I ask you something?” you wrap your arms around your torso to somehow collect your thoughts a little better.

"Sure", he assures before moving to put the grocery bag on the beige kitchen counter.

You follow behind him with hurried steps, "When did we buy groceries before this?"

He starts taking out the groceries, "um.. I don't–” he pauses, looking up as if trying to remember himself, “last month probably?" Confusion paints his face, "why?"

"All the stuff in our fridge had gone bad ages ago."

"What?"

“Have you talked to your friends recently? Where are they?” All your attempts to collect your thoughts are all for nought as questions come tumbling out of your lips and you don't even wait for Steve to give a response.

“Honey, why are you–”

“Okay, okay– what about that nightmare you had?”

“Nightmare?” he echoes, brows scrunching together as if he had no idea what you were talking about, “what nightmare?” he asks like he hadn't cried in your arms the previous night.

“Last night! You had a nightmare that I was in a hospital and– and then I was looking through our closet and I find these medical bills–

“Woah, honey. I didn’t have a nightmare. I think I'd remember something like that.. And– what bills?”

Your feet are moving before he even finishes his sentence, you grab the bundle of papers, you show him everything. And he just... stares at them. After some time, all that comes out of his mouth is a “what the fuck...” under his breath.

“I don't understand Steve, I don't remember, you don't remember. And there was this call yesterday–”

“Call? what– from who?”

“From– “ you pause, trying to remember, “ I– I dont…” from who? And then you feel everything you had recalled leaving you. Who called you? What was Steve's nightmare?

“I don't remember!" you exclaim, frustrated, "why do– I'm so– I'm scared Steve. I’m–”

“Hey, it's okay. you have me honey, you have me”, he holds you by your shoulders, to provide you some semblance of comfort, "we'll figure something out.”

“Steve….”, you mumble, tears starting to collect on your lash line, “something's not right Steve…”

“Its okay..”

“No, no– I dont– I keep forgetting stuff. Why don't I remember anything?”

“Hey, honey—”

“And whatever I do remember; none of it makes sense– nothing makes sense!"

“Its okay–”

“Do not tell me to breathe–”, “breathe for me–” you warn him the exact same time he says it.

You have lost it. You have lost your mind. Eyes wide, you ask, “Why do I already know what you’re going to say? How is that– “

“Hey, hey look at me”, he holds your face in his warm palms, “Breathe for me”, he instructs, “please honey.”

“Steve”, you pull his hands away from your face not because you don't want him to hold you. You do, you want him to hold you forever, but dammit, you feel like you’re going crazy, “where did we meet?”

“Honey–”

“Where did we meet?”

“Family video! We met in Family Video! You just came in one day and asked if I could help you pick out a movie to lift your mood up”

“Where is family video? Like, what town? Wh– what state?”

“..Hawkins, Indiana”

“Steve.. There's no town named Hawkins in Indiana”

“Of course ther–”

“No– no. You can look in a map steve. There was a map in one of those boxes. No town named Hawkins. And then– those papers...” you gesture towards the papers in his hand. You stand there, impatiently so, as he scans over the papers once again. For a split second, you think you see a tinge of recognition in his eyes.

“What does it mean, Steve? Then your dream last night–”, he hands you the papers before turning towards the door.

“Steve, hey, steve!” He heads towards the apartment door. “Steve, come back here!” he doesn't stop, doesn't even spare a glance, his movement robotic. Your voice gets louder, more authoritative, angry “Steve! Come back here right the hell now.”

He doesn't stop, not for his keys, not to tie his shoes. Not for you. Tears cloud your vision and your words come out all desperate and weak, “Steve please! Please don't leave me..”

The door slams shut. Its loud, the silence after it.

“No..” you whimper to yourself. Tears, finally streaming down your face.

He'll come back, you know he'll come back, sooner or later. He’ll come back to you. Steve wouldn't leave you. He couldn't.

You wait by the door. hours pass. You fall asleep waiting for him.

…

You wake up to the smell of something sweet in the air. When you open your eyes, you’re on the couch. But you don't have time to think about whether your neck will hurt for the rest of the day because Steve is there, standing over the stove– his back facing you.

“Steve?” your voice comes out croaky.

“Y’wake baby?” he turns to take a glance at you. The furrow between his brows you saw the previous night gone. He smiles softly when you nod dumbly at the rhetorical question, “Well brush your teeth I’m making pancakes”

“Steve..”

He notices that you don’t move, your gaze fixed on him. “Hey, what's wrong?” he leaves the batter he was working on on the counter before walking towards you, “You okay?”

“I’m sorry”

He kneels down infront of you, holding your hands in his– he smells like vanilla from up this close, “Sorry, for what?”

“Yesterday… I didn't mean to upset you. I just– I was–”

“What would I be upset for?”

“Last night.. I–”

“baby, I’m not upset”

“But you just left and..” you sniffle, “when did you come back?”

“I didn't leave. I was here the entire time”, he shook his head, confused.

“But– I… “

“I think you had a dream honey. Freshen up, kay? I’ll bring breakfast. I think we should rot in bed the entire day today. Get some sleep. How’s that sound, honey?”

You nod, he smiles as he pulls you in for a quick kiss, “Good thing we both have the day off– thank jesus for sundays”

…

7:08 p.m. that is what Steve's wristwatch reads and he is standing at your apartment door. Steve isn't sure why he is back. He isn't sure why he left. Maybe he needed some time. And spending nearly an entire day alone... he remembers things. things he wishes he could forget again.

Although Steve is unsure about a lot of things. one thing is for certain. He loves you. He loves you like he was made for it... and he was.

He was made for loving you and not loving you is not living. He's been there before, not having you to love, he remembers the torture of it. You still don't recall it yet and he doesn't want you to, but he does. He remembers it all. All the hurt, the loneliness, the grief, the silence.

The grief that was too much to bear. Silence was unbearable when it wasn't mixed with your heartbeat.

When he turns the door handle– the door isn't locked. He steps in slowly.

He can hear the TV playing, you're on the couch. there's someone else with you. Its him.

Steve watches as he sits between your thighs on the couch– his place, your fingers playing with his hair. He readjusts his head as if can’t quite find a comfortable spot, “You okay?” you ask as gently as you always do.

“Uh, yeah its just–” he sounds just like him, “I just have this nick in my neck”, he says rubbing the back of his neck.

“Here, let me…” you mumble sweetly as your expert fingers move to where he said it ached.

He sees you dig that spot a little with your thumb, “Ah, thanks honey” he almost melts, and it makes him groan the way that always drew a groan out of Steve.

Steve doesn't mind you made him, you probably didn't even know you did, you're powerful like that. But Steve feels something bubble inside him– maybe this is what jealousy feels like. Steve watches, watches as you touch him. He digs his nails into his palm, he feels the urge to touch where you are touching him. He wonders what he would feel when his thumb would run over that area.

His fingers rise on their own accord. Skin barely touching skin, almost hovering. And then he feels… a bump. He isn't sure how to describe it but he knows that that isn't supposed to be there. Not normally, anyway.

He watches as your expert fingers move up into his hair, he always loved when you did that to him.

His own fingers move higher into his hair. He feels another– another protrusion, another bump.

Steve knows what those are, he knows not to press down on them. You have them too. You have them where he holds you when he kisses you. Its the reason you don't remember, its the reason he didn't remember. Just for a day, he didn't have you to hold him like the way you always do and now he remembers.

Steve watches as he leans down to kiss you. And all Steve sees is red. He doesn’t have control over him as he stomps over to where the two of you were. Your heads snap towards the sound. Confusion flashes through both your features.

“y/n”, Steve says. He watches as your eyes flick between himself and the other. Your eyes land on his. Of course you know he is the real Steve. You made him.

He holds a protective hand infront of you, “y/n”, he sounds like him, “y/n, get inside”, he nods towards your bedroom door.

“Look, man I dont know who the fuck you are. But you need to leave”, Steve hates him, he sounds nothing like him. objectively that might not be true, but he isn't him.

“You don't know who I am? Fucking look at me"

“y/n get inside”, Steve doesn't like how he says your name, how he shouts it. It sounds nothing like him.

Steve lets you go, he doesn’t want you to see this.

You can't look away despite not being able to see much through the sliver of the slightly ajar bedroom door. It is only when he lands a punch on Steve, that you move away from the door– eyes closing on themselves.

You hear shouts. Then thuds, knuckles hitting jaws. Some more thuds and then a loud crack. Then nothing. Its becomes too quiet.

You quietly step even further away from the door when you hear footsteps approaching, until you feel your back hit the wall.

The hinges of the slightly ajar door creak. and he is there. Your Steve.

He has a split lip, bruises blooming on his cheekbones. Blood splattered on his jeans, on his hands, his arms. He lifts his arm to wipe his bleeding lip, more so smearing the blood in the process. Your eyes water, heartbeat too damn loud in your ears, eyes wide as a doe.

“It's Steve. your Steve”, he reassures you, holding your face by your chin. From up this close, the blood on him doesn't look quite like blood. Its too dark, too shiny, more viscous than it should be and it doesn't seem to clot. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

“But you already know that. dont you, honey?” Steve coos oh so gently as he thumbs over your cheeks to rid you of the tear stains. He feels sorry when the action instead makes the blood on his hands smear across your skin. He regrets it immediately, to have tainted you with it. He is sorry you have to see all this, to see him like this.

Steve knows he'll give it all up for you. If he ever had something to give, he would give it all up, just like you did.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

“It's for you, honey.”

He moves aside so you can go to the phone. It rings loud as it did earlier. You move past the kitchen, you don't see him– not entirely. He is on the floor, you see his hand around the corner of the kitchen counter, lifeless, a pool of that blood surrounding him. The corner of the kitchen counter drips with the liquid, forming a stark contrast against the light beige.

You move past the kitchen counter, eyes not daring to look at him or Steve, you don't turn around to see if Steve is there watching. You know he is.

You move to the bright red phone that is still ringing, blaring. You pick it and hold it up to your ear, “hello?”

“y– y/n? y/n its– it's me”, that woman says. And somehow, now, you know who she is. “it's me, do you–”

“Mom?” you say it before you even realise you did.

“Oh my goodness! Yes baby, it's– it's me!”

“I’m sorry mom, I had to.”

“y/n, what–”

“I have to go now.”

“y/n, no– no. Please don't hang up–” click.

“There you go honey", you feel Steve's warm hands on your shoulder, he rubs into the tense muscles there– surely staining your shirt with the liquid, "there you go."

You turn around and you see his eyes-- beautiful coffee coloured things, moles littered across his skin just the way you've memorized to heart. That smile, adorning and warm as ever. He holds you like he always does, thumb on your cheek, palm holding your face.

He holds you like he was made for it. Your cheek fit perfectly in his palm as if you were made for him. You were made for each other.

You lean in closer and then your lips meet. It isn't hard and fast. Its slow and deep. Like you have all the time in the world, and you do.

When you pull apart and look at him, its just him. Your Steve.

You don't even remember what it was you had been worried about. All you see is Steve, all you feel is Steve. Your lover, your home, your family, your everything. It's all Steve.

You smile up at Steve and everything is right. The blood he had smeared on you was gone. The counter was clean. He was gone. Everything is right, once again.

"So", he starts, walking towards the stove, "what are we feelin' today? pancakes with blueberries, strawberries, or plain ol' choco-chip?"

"Is there an ‘all of the above’ option?"

"For you? always."

...

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington hurt/comfort #stranger things #dark!steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x gn!reader

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miniimapp · 1 year

Text

4*TOWN As Kids

Gen ;; Crack + Fluff (??) - Headcanons

Warnings ;; nah

Proofread + Edited ;; nooooo

Auth. Note ;; WELCOME TO DAY 14 OF THE 4TOWN CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN !!

this idea was literally me trying to figure out wtf the pictures when i was younger were meant to be and then boom, 4*TOWN content babeeyyyyy

Enjoy !! <3

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Aaron T - The Weird Kid

You know those kids that just go up to anyone and start spitting some random or sometimes disturbing bs

Like,, kinda reminds me of the of the boy I sit next to in language study tbh

Mans will just start talking about the wirdest of things out of nowhere

Why tf are talking at me about thumbprint and how yours are superior ??

Why do you know that you can burn them off ??

Why have you researched how to organise a crime and get away with it ??

And why on earth are you telling me the details ??

You know,, that kinda stuff

Mans will just start talking, no brain to mouth filter needed

Not a single thought,, just a river of words

Mans was talking before he could even crawl

But he's also the type of kid to just get away with anything but he just has that charm yknow ??

Like,, he could be babbling away and being cheeky to a teacher and it's fine but if someone else even dares to breathe they're sent out

He's the class clown throughout his whole life

Nursery to graduation babeyyyy

Not book smart but street smart definitely

Common sense frrr

Most people wouldn't expect it because he always makes silly comments but T knows what he's talking about

I feel like he picked up an interest in music tech and producing when he was p young

Probably on some school music trip thay was only accepted to get more money out of parents but hey,, it provided T with his passion so..

He is the kid who shows you bugs out of nowhere

Yes he's very proud of them

He tried to keep a pet snail in his room once

That dream soon died in the form of a scolding lmao

Jesse - The Art Kid (obviously)

Never without a sketchbook or some form of paper

If his parents didn't put his art on the fridge he'd put it up himself, covering up all his grades and any other paper on there

Kinda cocky for a kid tbh

People told him often how talented he was and mans ran with it

Suddenly he's god's gift to the world

Golden child vibes tbh

People always asked him to draw them, you know, like how annoying people do

He would literally just ignore anyone who tried to interrupt his art time

Fair enough tbh, art time is art time for a reason,, not socialising time

Hhhhhh some people,, eh ??

Still though, mans did act p arrogantly about his skills

Somewhere along the way someone had to teach this kid the meaning on humility and confidence vs cockiness

So glad that it wasn't me tbh

You do not want a little grumpy Jesse on your hands

When I say fits of rage,, I mean fits of rage

I think Jesse, for the most part was a delight to be around, overly confident at times perhaps but fun either way

But if he was faced with any kind of conflict

Absolutely screamed his head off

I'm sorry but it's true

Also incredibly dramatic

Winning emmies by the age of 4

If he got any kind of sickness, whether it's a slight sniffle or a fever, he's gonna act like he's on the verge of death.

Seconds away from popping his clogs

He will make you feel bad if he doesn't get his way

Puppy eyes turn to daggers in milliseconds fr

He was definitely forced into classical music growing up and as he grew he explored other routes

He also calmed tf down as he grew too, thank all that is good

Mans cycled through many instruments and genres of music before landing on thinsg that stuck

Aaron Z - The Quiet Kid

Literally the stereotype of a quiet kid

He walked so all those quiet kid tiktoks could.. waddle ??

The funny thing is Z is not a quiet person at all really,, he just wasn't interested din any of their asses tbh

Tbh it normally amuses him when people always default to describing him as the quiet kid, or the shy kid, or the silent but deadly kid

Somehow people, at every school he went to, got the impression that he's a delinquent of sorts

That he'd fight anyone who dared to mess either him

Literally no sweetie,, he's just unnecessarily tall lmao

And also just doesn't care about you lmao

You know he does care about tho ??

His grandpappy !!

Being practically raised by him can do that to a kid

His most treasured possession is a harmonica his grandpappy got him with both of their initials engraved in it

Mans literally has a special case for it and everything

His grandpappy is the one who got him into music and all

Grandpappy used to be in a folk band back in the day, didn't you know ??

Z is so proud of his grandpappy, so happy to be related to him

Z wasn't particularly talkative when he was a kid,, he wasn't as quiet as people made him out to be but even around famy and friends he wasn't really loud

But he was, and continues to be, really expressive

In expressions, gestures

It's what makes him such a good dancer

And what makes dancing so fun for him

He can speak without words but instead with his body

Sometimes though, Z can get really passionate and talk for hours about something

Robaire - The True Golden Child

Is there anything little Ro can't do ?? Evidently not

The biggest teachers pet throughout his younger years istg

Probably got teased about it a little bit cause kids are cruel

But Ro literally aced every test he was ever given and it was hard to find an activity he struggled with

Basically a prodigy

I actually think that Robaire was a pretty shy kid though

Like,, people made him nervous and he had a bit of separation anxiety from his parents

Nursery was rough for all parties involved

Definitely a hard worker from day 1 but also a fair bit of a dreamer

Sometimes Ro's head would float up in the clouds and take ages to come back down

A-fucking-nother classically trained baby and he carried it on throughout his life

Mans has muscle memory with the same duration as an elephant

On that topic I feel like Ro has above average memory, maybe not photographic but definitely above average

He can remember practically every lyric he's ever learnt and every piano score he's learnt too

No one knows how he does it

You know the recorder lessons in nursery where you play hot cross buns or whatever tf

Ro somehow managed to make that cheap plastic shit sound good

Honestly astounding

Perfect pitch KING,, move out of the way charlie puth

His talent for it certainly helped but it wasn't the praise that made Ro decide music was his thing

It's the way he felt during his playing,, before he heard any praise about it..

Over the moon

Tae Young - The Cute Kid

Had everyone fooled from day one bro

Everyone's under the impression that he's an angel.. ha ha,, no

Not in any way, shape or form

It literally became a known thing that whenever he's get in trouble or introduced to someone new people would say

"Don't be fooled by his puppy eyes,, he's actually vicious underneath that expression.. "

No one ever heeds the warning until the damage is done

You were warned bro..

Grab a pair of listeners at the door and prepare to use them in the future

Tae was the trouble kid though, always doing things he shouldn't

And he'd always get away with it because of his adorable little face

By age 5 Tae had mastered the way of making any adult fold to his demands with just 1 look

A terrifying child to babysit,, can you imagine ??

I'd rather just be broke tbh

And that's coming from someone who has less than a fiver to their name lmao

Other kids his age would send Tae out as a back up plan to get teachers to derail from their lesson plan and watch above or something instead

Shit worked every fucking time

Pissed off every other class known to man

Another classically trained kiddo and he stuck with the violin

He just really enjoys it tbh

Maybe it's because he had a really good childhood teacher

That teacher instilled a passion in Tae bro

Talented teacher for that fr

Tae struggles with motivation tbh so habits are important,, especially those established when he was young

So yeah, that teacher was p incredible to Tae,, did something that Tae had never seen before lmao

#4town christmas countdown #4town #4town headcanons #4*town #4town jesse #4town aaron t #4town aaron z #4town robaire #4town tae young

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necrobarbie · 2 years

Note

46,48,68,73,85,88 aaaannd 94 lmao sorry if these are a lot a;osdighasdgo

46 Character you’d be best friends with?

roxy i think! similar interests and she reminds me of my own bff. nice balance of silly and serious. i like hanging out with social bubbly people even if i myself tend to be withdrawn and grumpy lmao

48 Zodiac troll? Are you happy with them?

dear sweet precious nepeta. i too am an autistic catboy so i'm pretty happy with her, even if her story was cut pretty short! she had a lot of potential that never got to see the light but that just leaves more room for fandom to expand on so /waves hand

68 & 85 - answered !

73 Meteor trip headcanons?

my headcanons are always more flowy than stuck in stone but off the top of my head i love rose being angsty about her mom, trying for hours to alchemize something resembling alcohol enough to get her drunk and hazy so she can quiet her internal thoughts for once in her life, just alone in a dark room on the meteor and not knowing how to reach out for help from her friends

also a lighter headcanon: trolls don't just let anyone cut their hair bc sharp things, vulnerable neck, etc but kanaya lets rose start trimming her hair after a few months, pre-retcon gamzee and karkat trim each others hair but post-retcon they don't, and terezi doesnt let anyone cut her hair partly bc she just doesnt care about how it looks

88 Favorite Homestuck fics?

also answered but for a fellow gamkar enthusiast i will add:

Pale as Arena Sand by CurlicueCal and LaughingStones (pale serendipity!!)

River in Itself by anonymous (post canon gamzee focused, in progress, not super fluffy if that's what you prefer but a great gamzee voice imo and maybe theyll be able to pick up the pieces?)

94 What would your strife specibus be?

so i have this fancy little letter opener i got from an antique store years ago that i rush to use for even the most mundance mail and i would love to just get stabby with in a game. letteropenerkind

#no worries on it being a lot i love to talk lmaooo #asks

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azucarian · 3 years

Text

NEFELIBATA - Takuya Birthday Special

Masterlist No content/trigger warning. Extreme fluff <3

Takuya had grown upset at the possibility of his birthday being forgotten; especially considering his two childhood friends hadn't even raised so much as a 'happy birthday' to him. It's not like he particularly expected a gift - although it definitely would be nice. Tapping his pencil against the desk, he frowned - (Name) was the most attentive person he knew and even she had forgotten? Maybe he failed in making it known beforehand. At this point, he just wanted to go home and curl up into a ball with the birthday cake his mother had baked him.

Now that he thought about it, Makoto had an obsession with the western zodiacs - he always looked on those weird 'zodiac luckiness' websites. Cancer, that's what Takuya's zodiac was - the zodiac of the crab. His 'aligned' personality was about him being loving and full of emotions - but also moody, suspicious and overprotective. He was not moody, he'd like to believe. The thought made him grumpy-

Ah, wait, that'd be right then.

He mentally groaned as the bell signalling the end of the day sounded, and his phone let out the identifiable ping to tell him he'd received a message. Flipping his phone up, (Name)'s contact popped up.

(NAME)-CHAN Mizo Middle headin' out early - we'll see you later Taku-chan! Byebye!

So they had truly forgotten. Takuya felt himself visibly deflate; there goes his final slither of hope. He shrugged, at least he had all of that cake to himself. He began his journey home; the train ride being oddly silent - usually the group of them would rambunctiously play whilst (Name), Akkun and himself would stare judgingly. Until (Name) got annoyed with all the stares from the elderly people and try to beat them up. For someone who didn't fight, Takuya could admit that the girl punched way too hard.

Coming home to an empty house was normal; his parents worked long jobs to provide for them (he actually appreciated their evening absences because of Kiyomasa and his gang, but he no longer feared any of that). But it felt much more empty as he slipped his shoes off- Wait, those definitely were not his shoes.

Sloppily hidden amongst the eco-friendly tote bags, five pairs of shoes were stacked. Four pairs of messy trainers, and one pair of remotely looked after converses. He nearly laughed - so they were here. A surprise birthday party, he guessed. The idiot trio must've gotten side tracked and, in a hurry, (Name) or Akkun shoved the shoes to the side and threw the totes over them.

Takuya guessed he'd humour them after all their effort. Slipping his indoor slides onto his feet and hanging his bag up on the door, he slowly made his way to the living room - and, upon entering the dark room, the lights suddenly flicked on and the distinct sound of party poppers filled his ears (and kind of scaring him, admittedly).

"Happy birthday!" The collective cheer of each person brought a grin to his face; regardless of the under-planned surprise element, he couldn't contain his smile at the sight. Kazushi, Makoto and Takemichi each had several party hats decorating their heads - almost as if they were trying to imitate a crown. Akkun was off to the side with a bright grin and a party popper in his hand. (Name), however, wasn't in sight.

He was about to open his mouth to ask where she was when someone jumped onto his back, arms around his neck "Happy birthday, Taku-chan!" The familiarly cheery voice made him laugh, and he softly thanked them all. The girl of the group eagerly dragged him towards their paper cut out of a birthday cake laid out on the table, surrounded by gifts.

Takuya slowly opened each of them.

From Akkun, a new controller for his gaming console - the boy explaining it as a 'new' method for everyone to play together, instead of taking turns with one controller. He appreciated it, and smiled softly before gently placing it back in the box (promising that he'd play with Atsushi first and foremost).From Makoto, a porn magazine - he slightly sneered at the gift, and the dumb(est) boy began to whine and cry about how 'Takuya didn't like his gift'. Even (Name) sneered and appropriately smacked Makoto on the back of the head with an apologetic smile towards Takuya. The blonde just shook his head and thanked the boy reluctantly (he had definitely thought more of himself instead of Takuya - but it was funny regardless, both Kazushi and Takemichi seemed to think so, too).From Kazushi, a bunch of notebooks, pens and pencils - explaining it to him as a new hobby to pick up. According to him, Takuya looked like the 'artsy poet' type (admittedly, he couldn't help but agree). He tested the glittery gel pens on one of the note books and grinned - they were extremely pretty, perfect for exam note-taking too. He placed them to the side delicately and expressed his gratitude.

He couldn't help but side-eye Takemichi and (Name). Takemichi was someone who would buy an extremely expensively thoughtful gift - it always made him feel guilty for weeks after, because the determined blonde would never allow Takuya to repay him. And (Name)… he visibly sweated. She had no taste in gift giving, and her gift was probably going to be worse than Makoto's - appropriate, but worse. They all exchanged knowing glances as the girl turned around to push Takemichi's gift towards him.

Takemichi had gotten a choker chain; and, as expected, it looked expensive. On the front, 'TAKUYA' was written in cursive with two ruby colored stones either side - if he remembered ride, a ruby was his birthstone. He almost verbally awed, but, instead, opted for hugging Takemichi tightly with an over-the-top thank you. The bleached blonde looked very happy at Takuya's joy."It's time for my gift now, right?" (Name) cheerily reminded, pushing a large box forward "Don't be surprised; I asked for your parents permission too." What? Takuya rose an eyebrow. Parents permission? Whatever it was, the other four didn't seem to know either - they looked just as confused.

She raced out of the room for a few moments before returning with her head poked around the door, hiding her arms behind the door frame "Don't freak out, we have to be quiet." They all nodded "Promise?"

"Promise." They all quietly spoke, and Takuya could feel himself get slightly giddy. Whatever this was, he was excited - and he hoped he wasn't disappointed (he wouldn't be, regardless, because he'd get to jokingly bully her for a bad gift for the rest of her life). She slowly turned and walked in, and the bundle in her arms nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.

The cutest puppy was excitedly wagging its tail in her grip, adoringly staring at its new friends jovially. (Name) crouched down and softly placed it against the floor, and they all watched as it clumsily stumbled towards the closest human - Takuya himself. Pressing its wet nose against his arm, its little butt wiggled with the force of its tail.

"How- wha- I don't know how to react-" For the first time in a while, the group watched as an awe-stricken and very visibly shocked Takuya brought the puppy into his arms. (Name) laughed and slid to the floor beside him, gently patting the puppy.

"I spoke to your parents the other day before school about it; they said it'd probably do you good, especially with summer break comin' up. Keep you company, and you can go on walks with her." She explained whilst watching as the other four crowded round, each taking a turn at stroking the soft puppy.

"How the hell did you get her here?" Akkun questioned. It made all of them wonder; yeah, how? She had been with them all day, so how on Earth had she gotten a puppy to Takuya's house without them realising?

(Name) snorted "I asked Mikey-chan and Ken-kun to bring her; they put her in your room, in one of those play pens. Cute little thing was fast asleep but woke up straight away when hearing the door open. She was so excited." Takuya was so in love with this adorable creature that had found its new home in his arms "She ain't got a name, so that's up to you." He lit up, and the group laughed at his expression.

"Rocky." The name sent embarrassment into (Name)'s system, as she profusely rejected the name - completely being ignored by a cackling Takuya.

"Huh, what's so bad about Rocky? Rocky-chan is so cute!" Kazushi protested.

"It's Rocky because the last time me and (Name) hung out alone together, she fell into the river because of the rocks." The laughter from everyone was enough to make (Name) hide her face in her hands, muttering a 'I hate you' endearingly under her breath.

With his new friend and playmate in his hands, Takuya could wholeheartedly say... THIS WAS THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER.

TAG LIST @dot0nix @starsandkeysruler @hikkarins @valbedo @notsodeadgirlwalking

Feel free to ask to be added to the tag list!

HAPPY TAKUYA DAY!! Honestly, as a character, Takuya grew on me progressively - I didn’t like him much when I first started but he definitely got my heart </3 He’s so pretty and sweet (totally didn't mistake him for Mikey at the beginning lmao) ~

A proper update will come out over the weekend - I’m currently looking for work so interviews have been taking up a lot of time. I promise it’ll be out tomorrow/over the weekend! I love you all!

#tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #takuya yamamoto #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev #tokyo manji gang #takemichi hanagaki #akkun #atsushi sendo #kazushi yamagishi #makoto suzuki

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

Text

meet me in the gardens

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either.

warnings: lots of emotions, feelings, slightly cynical and bitter reader- she’s honestly just being a realist, we are chugging forward, did not check for typos, format could be fucked up bc i’m posting from my phone quite literally minutes before i clock in- PATHETIC LMAO

word count: 2.7k

this is a short chapter by my standards, but it felt long to me because of the things in it??? this is part five! all other parts can be found on my masterlist, it’s my pinned post!

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Wanda asked while she tied your corset, not even needing to ask whether it was too tight or loose. You looked up in your vanity and immediately tried to wipe your smile away, but it was too late. She knew you better than anyone, and she had yet to see a thoughtful smile on your face, ever. Pietro, who had caught you going back inside the previous night, caught on to the fact that you looked more carefree, and that you just seemed to look like you were carrying around less.

“Nothing.”

“Hmm,” Wanda hummed, an entertained look on her face. Something told you that she already had an idea of what was going on, even though there was no way she could have. Besides, you hardly even knew what was going on. “I’ll ask again later.” She looked you in the eyes through the mirror, a slightly mischievous smile on her face. “Maybe then you’ll tell the truth,” she said, flicking you on the side of the head, and then letting it rest.

§§

Natasha was out in the village doing whatever it was the knights did one night, and she was planning on spending the night at a bed and breakfast before coming back in the morning. As disheartened as you were about not being able to see her for your stargazing, you were partly glad for it. You missed being with the twins.

You had dinner with them alone, sitting and laughing about old memories and scheduling times to make new ones together. You loved the way you could be with them. Your laughter was allowed to go over the volume of a giggle without them looking at you like you had grown seven heads, your silverware were allowed to take a tumble onto your plate with a clatter without a second glance, and you were allowed to use whatever language you pleased. You missed the comfort that you felt with them, the comfort that your brain and the part of you that would always be the farm girl felt with them.

“And Pietro chased him all the way off, you should have seen how terrified he was,” Wanda recapped, and you couldn't help but grin at Pietro, who was sipping wine with his charming grin. “That boy will never lift another skirt, I can assure you of that.”

“I’m glad,” you mused, shooting Pietro a look that made him laugh.

“Enough about me,” he said after swallowing a sip of his wine that was much more like a gulp. “We’re not going to talk about how you’ve been walking on the clouds for weeks now?”

You nearly dropped your fork again. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve both realized,” Pietro said, motioning with his buttered knife towards his sister, who had a soft smile on her face as she observed your reaction. “That you have been significantly happier. Even with the circumstances-”

“Pietro,” Wanda hissed, but you just snorted and shook your head.

“It’s like you found your own little pocket of happiness. We were worried about you, but, you’re doing alright.” Ever the blatant one out of the three of you, he leaned forward with his trademark smirk, eyes full of curiosity. “What do you know that we don't?”

You hesitated for a second, mouth opening and closing twice as you grappled for anything to say, even a lie. And then, you settled on just shrugging your shoulders with a grin, shaking your head. “Honestly, Pietro, I know nothing. I don’t know anything.”

§§

Your heart was beating faster than normal as you looked at the woman next to you, your hand subconsciously itching closer to hers as you sat on the ground, ass on the blanket that you had brought out. “I would like to… show you something.”

It was probably the twentieth time that you and Natasha had met with each other, and still, you were entranced by her and everything that she did. And you were entranced while you stared at her and waited for her answer, just a little nervous as to what she would say.

As if she would ever say no to something you said.

“Show me anything you’d like me to see,” Natasha urged on, and you fought back a smile. You stood up, and she did the same, and then you were picking up the blanket and walking side by side with her. It was quiet the entire way there as you walked in step with her, hand brushing against her every few steps and sending tingles down your arm every time it happened.

The feeling that you got when she touched you made you feel both alive and scared to death. You weren’t stupid. You knew what you were steadily collecting more than friendly feelings for her, and that she may have been on the same page you were on. The game you were playing was a dangerous one, the risk threatening to swallow up the reward more and more by the day.

You had known that being with her by yourself was bad judgement, ever since the first time you did it. Hell, the look you gave her the first time you met her was far from appropriate. Every single conversation that you had with her was a risk, and both of you knew it. And now that your soon-to-be husband was approaching, it was even more scandalous. No one knew and you hoped no one would ever find out, but hiding forever wasn’t a choice. But what would you be hiding if there were no true feelings?

You hated yourself for falling for her and her pretty words.

“I used to come here to escape,” you started, pulling yourself out of your thoughts, voice low as you passed the tree line to get into the thick of the woods. You narrowly missed stepping in a particularly muddy spot on the ground. “This was my spot, before I got the garden of course.”

“The woods?”

“No, Nat,” you said, slightly amused as you stepped over a fallen branch. You smiled a bit when the sound of running water hit your ears. “The stream.”

You knew the exact second that she saw it, because her eyes widened and her breath hitched. “That’s not a stream, that’s a river.”

“It’s the forgotten part of the main river,” you explained. “It’s much skinnier and more shallow, and it doesn't have nearly as much fish coming through, so people forget about it.” You looked towards her and saw how intrigued she was by it, so you judged her armor free body with a slight smirk. “What? Never seen running water?”

“I lived in the capital, all they had was the ocean. And even then I was never allowed on the harbor if I wasn’t selling clams, and I didn’t sell clams much.”

You felt silence start to grow between the two of you, so you said the first thing that you thought of. “You don’t look like a clam seller.”

He looked away from the river and to you, a slight grin on her face even as she talked again. “And you don’t look like a petal kisser, blossom, but look where we are today.”

Your heart raced in your chest. “Blossom? Is that what you’re calling me now?”

“It’s only payback for calling me ‘cherry’,” she said, and you stifled a laugh at the retired name, glancing up at the red hair that you had gotten inspiration from.

“You didn’t actually mind it,” you said, looking off into the distance, only looking back at her when a warm hand slotted over yours. You blinked and looked down at your hands, which she had intertwined, and then back up at her again, only to see that she was staring straight ahead in the dark at the way the moonlight hit the water.

“How could I?” She asked softly, a subtle breeze picking up.”You were the one saying it.” She looked at you, and in the dim lighting, you could have sworn that her eyes were saying, you can call me anything in the book, and I will own it proudly. And then, the look changed to something else, something less devoting, and something more passionate. It took you a few seconds to understand what the look meant, and before you could fully register it, she was leaning forward.

A few seconds came and went where you could feel your heartbeat all over, and you tried to look somewhere other than in her eyes. You couldn't. “Don’t look at me like that.” When all Natasha did was tilt her head to the side and give you an even more intense version of the look, you let out a small sigh. “Please.”

“Why not?”

She knew why. She knew why probably better than you did after living in the capital. She saw what happened firsthand to people who committed crimes, and those who committed second degree adultery. If you two did what you were wanting to do with your entire heart, you would fall right into that category. “I know where this is going,” you said softly, “and this won’t end well.”

“Why not?” She asked again, and you turned your head to the side, shaking it slightly and closing your eyes.

“Because, I’m about to get married,” you hissed, and though you didn’t mean to sound so angry, you did. Natasha was hardly affected.

She lifted her arms and let them fall against her clothing with a soft slap that still echoed in the night. “You’re not married right now.”

“But I will be, Natasha,” you said, gripping her hands and squeezing them softly, begging for her to understand you. “What’s going to happen when I get married to a man who already has a streak for murdering his wives, and he finds out that I have feelings for you? He’ll kill me. He’ll kill you. And if he doesn’t, we’ll both be hung for adultery, after being put into torture camps for being… together as women.”

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Y/N, you know that.” The fervency in her tone nearly shocked you as she took a bold step forward, nearly surrounding you in her scent and energy. “I would never let anything happen to you.”

“You’re too important for me to condemn to death and dishonor just because I have feelings for you. It was selfish of me to meet with you in the first place, but I can’t let myself do this. It’s a bad idea,” You said, voice hushed even though no one would have followed you. You were trembling, hand shaking more than anything else as you tried to understand how fast everything was moving; forward and backwards, sewing together and ripping apart all the same. If you were any more attentive to her expression, you would have seen the grin that lit up her face as your confession. “We were just about to cross a line. We’ve crossed quite a few dotted ones, but this one? It is bold and blaring.”

“Blossom,” Natasha started, and you just shook your head and kept going.

“And-and what we were just about to do? That crosses the line. We cannot.”

“Do you really think my feelings for you are going to change depending on whether or not we kiss?” She asked, her voice slightly deeper than usual, almost sounding insulted. “You’re telling me to close my heart off from you, not to not kiss you. And you know that.”

“What if I am?” You asked, eyes starting to burn with tears. “I’m doing it for the right reasons, Nat. I’m trying to save us from a world of hurt when reality finally sinks in.”

“That isn’t today.” She took another step forward and this time, you couldn't find the strength in you to step back. “And it isn’t tomorrow, and not even within the fortnight. You and I have something, and I know that you know it’s different. It’s special. We would be so stupid to ignore it, so stupid.”

“I know, I know,” you said, voice tapering off into a whine as you slowly felt your resolve come apart, even though you thought it was stronger. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Natasha said after a few minutes of pure silence, and you found yourself exhaling. “I just wish things were different.”

“I know,” she said, and you turned to look up at the sky, tears threatening to come down on your cheeks. The stars seemed to twinkle and wink at you, talking amongst themselves about a future you had no idea about just yet.

“Guess they’re never gonna line up,” you murmured to yourself, and then you heard Natasha grumble something from your side, and then she was coming closer, a barreling energy force full of passion and intent, and you knew exactly what she was coming for. For less than a split second, you thought about it. And then you turned your head and met her halfway.

You would have been surprised by the passion in it if you weren’t just as desperate for the contact. You twisted in her arms, already wrapped around you as she drew you in close, closer than you had ever been with her, and the tears that were welling up before were now escaping for a different reason. Your lips were pressing into hers, moving fluidly and with an air of fervor that she matched equally. You felt wanted, and needed, and you felt loved. You felt the tenderness of the moment with every brush of her fingers on the back of your neck and with every rub of your back over the thin material of your night dress.

Your legs were shaking, and she noticed before you did that you were getting weak in the knees. She held you up and pulled back slightly, just enough for you to feel her lips brush against yours while she asked if you were okay, like she wasn’t willing to take herself from you just yet. And honestly, you weren’t ready for her to leave you, either. You nodded, and she leaned in again, much slower, and then you had time to think.

Her eyes weren’t the same shade they were when the sun hit them, they were almost an eerie pale blue, but they were still just as gorgeous to you, especially now that they were slanted with desire. Her hair wasn’t perfect like she somehow always managed or it to be, and you realized that it was because you had gotten a hand to run through it despite the way that she had previously held you like a lifeline. Her lashes were long, and you swore that she was close enough that you could count them. Her cheekbones were accentuated in the lighting, making her look like something straight out of a fairy tale, like a floating fae creature that led people to safety. In that moment, you could have sworn that she was the answer to every prayer you had ever whispered, to every question you had ever asked your etiquette teachers. In that moment, and in every moment to come, she was your ending and beginning, your creation and destruction, your sunrise and sunset. She was Natasha Romanoff, and in that moment, no wedding or murderous man even held a candle to the way you felt about her.

What a beautiful person.

“Now you’re looking at me strangely,” Natasha said, her voice quieter than you had ever heard it as the both of you treated over the moment carefully, trying not to break it and leave it in shambles. “What are you thinking about?”

“How I’m going to have to pretend like this never happened in a few weeks,” you said softly, and part of you hated yourself for bringing up the bad part of the future so soon after you both had just lost all ties to reality.

“You don’t have to,” she said, stroking your hair. “We can just keep doing what we’re doing, sneaking off in the night and coming back in the morning before anyone realizes. Nothing really has to change, I just want you to know that I… that we can be whatever you want us to be.”

“As long as we’re in the confines of the garden walls.”

“And now the woods,” Natasha said, and you couldn’t help but laugh in her arms.

“And now the woods."

****

this is short, but i couldn’t see anything being tacked on to this. we’re at an important part, and from here it’s gonna be fun!! thank y’all for reading; if you liked it please drop a like and a reblog bc it makes my day!! comments also make me ascend y’all

tags!! : tags! : @teenwonder @saamwilscn @procrastinatingsapphictrash @fayhar @8plasma @slut-for-nat @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool @200605chaeng @thescottishavenger @antidaytime @jenny-song @madamevirgo @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @shycucumbersandwich @dailyavengering @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ima-gi--na-tion @chickenhavewisdom

so sorry if i forgot anyone!!!!!

#natasha romanov x reader #natasha x female reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #lgbt marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #my fics #natasha x reader #knight!natasha #knight au #lesbian!natasha #natasha romanoff x female reader

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yuthoe · 3 years

Text

Time (MONSTA X: Chae Hyungwon)

a few things:

1. yes i'm a monbebe now too and i fully blame fatal love era hyungwon for it. he has my multistan ass whipped

2. THIS IS THE LONGEST FIC I'VE EVER WRITTEN FOR THIS BLOG HOLY GAWD

3. i'm back to going to the office everyday for work, so we're back to infrequent posting lmao

ok so. i've wanted to write a vampire fic for so long now (the previous/first one i wrote was back in 1st year high school and despite my massive vampire kink i didn't attempt to make any other vamp related stories haha), and when i saw hyungwon in that red suit with the long hair and the eyebags and the turtleneck i just kinda went feral. this thing took me like, almost a month to write; it's been hard to cook up writing brain juice between work and trying to be healthy and keeping up with the pan de manila.

i fully intended for this to be like, sexy suggestive and leading to something more for the ending, but like. it turned out soft. somehow. the premise was perfect, but somehow my brain was like, "no make it soft" and we have whatever this is.

this is unedited bc i wrote it half-asleep and wanted to get it out there

PAIRING: Chae Hyungwon x reader. GENRE: vampire!AU, some fluff, modern fantasy. WARNINGS: vampire-typical injuries—biting, blood—some very mild sexual themes. WORD COUNT: 3,589 (holy shit).

---

The entryway is lit by the two dim overhead lights, casting an orange tint to the concrete floor. You take care to slip your shoes on quietly, not wanting to accidentally wake the slumbering man in the other room; he just got home a few hours ago and you didn’t want to cut his sleep short, remembering how he slowly slipped under the covers with you, winding an arm around your midsection and releasing a heavy breath before passing out.

So with a glance at your watch—the one he got you for your birthday a few years back, the one you’ve worn almost everywhere since—you grab your work bag and try to slip off the chain lock with as little sound as possible.

“Are you leaving for work?”

You flinch at his voice, huskier now with remnants of sleep. Hyungwon has a thing about soundlessly walking into places and surprising you by suddenly speaking. Your face scrunches at your failed attempt to slip out unnoticed, and a loud sigh escapes your lips as you turn to face him.

“How long have you been awake?” you ask, stepping right to the elevated wooden floor that separates the entryway to the living area. Hyungwon is wearing a white shirt that completely swallows his slender frame and loose pajama pants. You cup his soft cheek, drag your hand to his neck, his shoulder, down his arm, until you’re intertwining your fingers.

“Pretty much since you left the bed,” he mumbles, taking his other hand and wrapping it around you, pulling you to his chest. You feel him rest his face on the top of your head and breathe in your scent.

“Aw,” you reply quietly, smoothing a hand down his back. “And I thought I was being super quiet this time.”

There’s comfortable silence as Hyungwon basks in your warmth and you can swear he’s close to falling asleep where he stands. You think there’s no other place you’d want to be right now, but unfortunately, you need to work and he needs to sleep.

You let go of the strap on your bag and tap his side gently. “I have to go,” you murmur.

Hyungwon groans, lowers his head and tilts it to the side to whisper directly into your ear. “Do you really have to? Because there’s something more important you need to do here.” He noses at your temple, his cold breath fanning against your ear.

“Oh? And what is that?” It’s too early in the day for goosebumps, and the faster you force him back to bed, the better your chances of resisting the sweet pull of his voice.

“Mmm…,” he groans again, and you feel his smile as he kisses your ear. “Sleep.”

You snort, pulling away with a soft smile, free hand coming to cup his face. You pass your thumb over his cheekbone and watch as he melts at your touch, dark bangs falling over his closed eyes. “I’ll be home early today, love,” you say, pressing a soft kiss to his plump lips.

Hyungwon’s eyes open unhurried, and he leans down to return the peck, lips moving slow against yours like honey. “Hurry back,” he mumbles against your lips.

***

A quiet sigh leaves his lips as Hyungwon toes off his shoes, leaving them at their designated space at the entrance. He hangs his bag and coat on the hooks before silently walking through the apartment to the bathroom, eager to scrub himself clean of the aggravating scents and grime of the club.

Hyungwon loves his job, he does. The people he interacts with there, though? Still up for debate.

The hot, almost scalding water seeps into his skin, warming him up from the outside. He’s used to the cold, he himself being below the normal human temperature for nearly a century now. The droplets sting a little, but it’s the pain that grounds Hyungwon to reality, a sort of proof of life in his years of floating along the endless river of time, never knowing when and where his journey would end.

There’s another pain, a burning in his throat, that reminds him well of his immortality. It assaults him every few days, and over the years has dulled from hurting so bad he nearly claws out his neck, to just being a pain in the ass that makes him cough if he doesn’t slake the thirst.

Hyungwon’s body cools rapidly when he shuts off the water, the soft April chill helping it along so that he’s mostly dry when he grabs his towel.

The bedroom is silent when he slips in, quickly dressing in the huge shirt and loose pants from yesterday, before he ducks out again to make a beeline to the kitchen, folding his tall frame into a crouch as he opens the refrigerator. There’s a space just for his blood bags in the far corner of the fridge, that he immediately scans and finds empty. Hyungwon groans and slaps a hand over his face.

Of course he forgets to stop by the blood bank tonight. He vaguely remembers taking the last bag four days ago and making a mental note to call Kihyun for his refills, but there must have been something that distracted him at the time because at present, he can’t recall contacting Kihyun about it at all, despite exchanging messages regularly.

He stands to his full height as he closes the door, leans his head against it as he mulls over his forgetfulness that never went away in all his years of living. And before he slips back into your bedroom and into the sweet realm of sleep, he rummages in his bag for his phone, texts his friend, gets a short scolding about his poor memory, and then sets a date to pick up his food.

Hyungwon quietly pads back to the bedroom and closes the door soundlessly, careful not to wake you. He slides in next to you, pulling the comforter snug against him as he rests on his elbows. He takes a few seconds to gaze at your sleeping figure, something he does every night. The random thought of coming off as creepy on the off chance you wake up runs through his head, but at the same time he thinks he wouldn’t mind if you catch him watching you sleep.

You know Hyungwon loves you, and he’s told you before that you’re one of his anchors to his hold on humanity. Never once in your two-year relationship did you take his vulnerability for granted, and he’s (quite literally) eternally grateful for your kindness and love.

He settles in on his side, and his shuffling has got you adjusting to his shape under the covers. Hyungwon feels you turn to face him and reach for his arm. You groan small, pull at his slender limb to wrap it around you, and he just lets you move him the way you want, an amused smile on his face. His other arm slides beneath your neck, and you nuzzle closer to him, breathing deep when you’re finally satisfied. He counts five seconds before your breaths even out in slumber.

Hyungwon presses a kiss to the crown of your head and inhales your scent, relaxed now and ready to follow you into sleep.

***

His alarm wakes him at noon, the shrill tone making him jerk and tighten his arm around the warm body in front of him, brows scrunching as he groans softly. Hyungwon stretches an arm towards the nightstand and turns off the alarm with an expert swipe of a finger. He buries his nose into your hair, not wanting to enter the land of the living yet. You respond with a hum, shifting and turning so your back is pressed against his chest.

You both try to doze off again before Hyungwon realizes two things:

One—It’s a Friday.

Two—You’re still in his arms.

“Love,” he mumbles against your hair.

You reply around five seconds later, with a simple grunt.

Hyungwon snorts a laugh, eyes still closed, but mind slowly waking with every passing second. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

Another grunt from you, this time louder and longer. You shuffle under the sheets to turn to him again, eyes persistently closed and brows knit slightly. “Took the day off,” you mumble and slither your arm under his, scooting closer to bury your face in his neck. “Wanted to spend some time with you.”

At this Hyungwon smiles, rests his cheek on your head. “So we have until tomorrow night to do whatever then.”

It’s quiet for a few moments before your head shoots up. The movement startles Hyungwon and makes his eyes pop open. Bleary eyes meet, yours equal parts confused and suspicious. “What do you mean? You took the night off, too? But it’s Friday—the club’s gonna be packed.”

He levels you with a casual shrug. “Yeah,” he says, sliding his hand up your arm that’s around him, and stopping at your neck. His large hand completely covers your neck, long fingers splaying onto your cheek and winding into your hair. “I wanted to spend time with you, too.” He clears his throat. “I’ve missed you.” Hyungwon can feel the steady pulse under your skin and he clears his throat again.

You smile, lean down to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

And another one.

And another.

And you would have rained more kisses on him had he not started coughing and turned his head away. The ache in Hyungwon’s throat wasn’t that bad when he was asleep, but now that he’s awake, it’s irritating to the point of annoyance. He knows the thirst is his fault, but damn, would it kill him if he could have a peaceful morning (noon) with you before his body complains about being hungry?

He feels a hand smoothing down his back as the coughing goes down. He takes shaky breaths as he sits up and leans on the headboard. After a big exhale from him, you say, “Are you okay?”

Hyungwon looks at you and smiles tightly. “I’m fine. Just a bit hungry.” He sits up, only to scoot closer to you and wind an arm around your back. He rests his forehead on your shoulder as he talks, voice low and scratchy. “Ran out of my supply and I forgot to call Kihyun about it, and it’s been a few days since I had a drink. And it’ll be a couple more days before I can stop by the blood bank for my refills.” A cough.

Your arms are around his wiry frame, fingers running up and down his spine and making him drowsy. He’s still tired and sleepy, but the thirst is keeping him awake.

“Do you want a drink?” you ask quietly. “From me?”

Hyungwon stills, a shiver running down his spine. It’s not all the time he gets to drink from you; in fact, he makes it a point to not do it because he doesn’t want to scare you off. You’ve been living together for six months, known each other for years before that, but he still worries, silently waiting for the day you decide that being with a vampire isn’t worth it after all.

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “I’m fine.” He pushes down the cough building in his throat.

You card your fingers through his long hair. “I know you try not to, but I’m okay with it. You sound like you’re really hurting.” You rest your head against his. “We’ve done it before, and it didn’t really hurt. And I trust you, Hyungwon.”

Hyungwon is tired. Is sleepy. The thirst isn’t all that bad, but the coughing is aggravating his already dry throat. He hasn’t gotten a sip of blood in five days and nothing else could quench this particular thirst quite as well.

A small cough. “Are you sure?”

Your head is still resting on his and he feels you nod. “Yeah. Besides, I…” You clear your throat before speaking. “I like it when you drink from me.”

The vampire freezes, not quite knowing what to do with this newly revealed information. He’s not sure if what he feels right now is mild lust or genuine surprise. In the (very) rare times he drinks from you he thought he saw a twinkle of anticipation in your eyes, like you’ve been craving it, too. He thinks maybe his view of himself is clouding whatever opinion you have of him, bad and good alike.

Hyungwon’s lips purse, trying to keep himself from laughing because he can tell you’re serious about this, just as worried about him as you are excited about the prospect of being bitten; it’s still a bit unbelievable. He finally raises his head and looks square at you.

“You’re really okay with this?” he asks again. “You really want me to drink from you?” He crosses his legs under the blankets and pulls you with the arm still around your back.

Sometimes you forget Hyungwon is so strong—he doesn’t make his strength known to you, unless you both need it a little rough in bed. Now, he practically lifts you onto his lap, emboldened by your declaration. You straddle him, sitting snugly with both his arms around you; your hands naturally find themselves on his broad shoulders.

“Mhm,” you simply say, nodding your head. Adrenaline is running through your veins, and you’re sure Hyungwon can clearly hear how loud and fast your heart is beating right now.

It also seems like he can read your mind because he takes one of his hands and rests it softly against your chest, right over your heart.

You see him swallow. “Your heart is beating so fast,” he says, dragging his hand up to your neck, fingers soft on your skin, and you shiver. “Your pulse is racing.” Hyungwon is looking at you like you’re a meal he can’t wait to devour. “You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you say, even though you don’t really know if what you’re feeling is excitement or embarrassment or lust of fear. You can’t recall any of the previous times he fed from you being this tense—it was always out of desperation and pain that he reached out to you for this, and despite this moment being along the same lines, it’s… very different.

The loose collar of your sweater—one of his you pilfered long ago—is pulled to the side, and you shiver again as his fingertip brushes against your skin. Goosebumps raise on your arms as Hyungwon trails that single finger over your collarbone, up your neck again, to cup your chin and pull you in for a kiss.

His lips are gentle, but you can feel he’s holding back, trying to take it slow in case you change your mind. When you respond and bite his lip, he growls and pulls you by the back of the head to kiss you deeper. The arm around your back tightens, and you feel his fingers tangle in your hair as he angles your head the way he wants.

Tiny moans spill from your lips as Hyungwon’s tongue explores your mouth. When he pulls away, your sight is flooded with his red irises, gold specks swimming in the pool of his eyes that almost glow in the dark room. So chillingly beautiful.

You’re breathing hard, unable to look away from Hyungwon’s captivating gaze. A thought passes through: No wonder humans just fall at their feet—who could look away from such a mesmerizing sight?

“Last chance,” he mutters, wetting his plump bottom lip, his scarlet eyes fixed on your neck. “You really want this?”

You card your fingers through his head and tilt his face up, dropping a kiss to his closed eyes, his nose, his pretty lips. You cup his cheek and give him a small smile. “Do it.”

Hyungwon takes a deep breath and kisses your cheek, trails his lips to nip your earlobe, and then lower… He goes slow, building up your anticipation, getting your heart rate up with every kiss and nip and suck.

He laves his tongue over a spot on your neck, and you let out a sigh, relaxing in Hyungwon’s firm hold. The hand still tangled in your hair guides you, tilting your head to the side. He noses at your neck and gives you a final soft kiss, before he draws his fangs and punctures your jugular.

You squeak in pain; the bite stings, but it goes away as fast as it came. You feel Hyungwon draw back his fangs and begin to suck, dragging his tongue over the wounds, and groaning low in his throat at the sweet taste of you.

It occurs to him how much he misses feeding from you. Because of the rarity of these occasions, your blood becomes a treat to him, a sort of delicacy that he deliberately denies himself of. It didn’t take him too long after that first taste of you long ago, to realize that your blood is dangerously addicting.

Hyungwon focuses on drinking your blood, drinking in the small moans you make as he marks your soft skin. He feels your restless hands clawing at his back, the other winding through his long hair—pulling him close or pushing him away, you don’t know.

Your senses are heightened and dulled; you’re acutely aware of every miniscule movement of Hyungwon’s lips on your neck, but the rest of your body feels like it’s floating. He groans against your skin and the vibrations send a jolt of lightning up your spine and you whimper.

Hyungwon immediately pulls back, worried he hurt you. His mouth is stained red. “Are you okay?”

You’re nodding before he finishes, cupping his cheek with a hand. “I’m fine, Hyungwon.” You give him a small smile as he melts into your hand, one of his coming up to keep it there. “Did you want more?”

He shakes his head. “I’m feeling better now. Thank you, love.” He exhales, and you think he does look better than earlier—his skin is brighter, the bags under his eyes are gone, and he’s even breathing more easily. “Let me go clean you up,” he says, and lifts you gently off him, setting you down on the soft comforter just in front of him. He pats your knee before getting up and padding to the bathroom.

You gaze at him as he leaves, the sight of his model-like figure waddling like a penguin amusing. Hyungwon stops at the door and turns to you, smiling at you softly.

He returns a minute later, warm damp washcloth in hand, mouth clean and eyes a lovely brown. He sits at the edge of the bed and cleans your neck with gentle swipes. The bleeding has stopped and the wound is closed, but the surrounding skin is blooming with black and purple bruises. Hyungwon clicks his tongue. “I’m sorry, love. The bite’s gonna leave a mark.”

You carefully tap the wounds, smoothing fingertips over the raised marks. They sting a bit, but it feels more like the soreness after getting a vaccine shot than anything. “It’s okay, love. They’ll heal over the weekend.” You catch his lips in a soft kiss. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

He sets the bloody rag on the nightstand and moves closer to you, kissing you back, cradling your neck for support as he coaxes you to lie on the bed. You smile through the kiss, giggle as you wind your arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” he mumbles against your lips. “You looked so beautiful earlier… Thank you for letting me do that.”

You hum. “Anytime, you need, babe. I enjoyed it.”

Hyungwon is propped above you, a thigh slotted between yours. Lazy, slow kisses against the soft sheets seems like the perfect activity for the rest of the day. But you have other plans.

“I gotta admit, though,” you said, brushing his long bangs from his eyes. “That was… kinda hot.” You try to fight a smile, embarrassed at the admission, despite the compromising position you were in just minutes before.

Hyungwon chuckles, ducks his head to press a soft kiss to the puncture marks, the underside of your jaw, your earlobe. “I didn’t expect you to be so into it,” he whispers, his baritone voice seeping into your bones and making you shudder.

You laugh loud at that. “Well, my boyfriend is a hot vampire, what did you think was gonna happen?”

Hyungwon laughs with you, rests his forehead on yours and kisses you again. He buries his face into your neck, the unmarked side, and snakes his arms around your back and rolls you to your sides.

Fingers trace mindless shapes on his back, play with his long hair that’s tangled from your restless hands earlier, relax in the quiet of the afternoon. Your heads are at the foot of the bed, legs tangled together. From the top of Hyungwon’s head, you can just barely see the sun peeking through a slit between the dark curtains, but all you want to do is sleep.

You’re close to dozing off when Hyungwon suddenly speaks. Three words. Your favorite.

“I love you.” He squeezes you slightly and breathes in your scent.

You smile and reply, “I love you, too.”

The world outside your window keeps turning; the weather looks nice today. But you’re not stepping out, not when your whole world is right here, snuggled in your arms.

#kdiarynet #monsta x #monsta x hyungwon #chae hyungwon #monsta x hyungwon scenario #hyungwon scenario #hyungwon scenarios #hyugnwon imagine #fic: mine #fic: hyungwon #fic: not spicy #but it's mildly #monsta x smut #just putting that tag there just in caseee #BABY IS FINALLY DONE #i hope yall like it

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happytroopers · 3 years

Text

In Another Life // Jedi! Reader x Wolffe

Uhhh, hi again. As per usual inspiration struck as I was watching tik Tok so I wrote this in one go on my bathroom floor lmao

basically: Reader is a Jedi trying to sort through some unjedi like thoughts about a certain Commander. Very dramatic, definitely needs to hold a damn hand. Jedi.exe stops working at the thought

warnings: mentions of gun/ GSW’s, blood, unrequited(?), two idiots with the combined emotional maturity of grapefruit

__________

Close your eyes... deep breath... don’t think about what could have been... open your eyes...

Upon reopening, your tired eyes examined the inky black void of space through the view port. There was a certain beauty in the simplicity of empty space that gave you some semblance of peace after such a hectic battle- the deep black velvet with pin pricks of pure starlight to interrupt the darkness, the idea of far off systems of planets teeming with mundane life as if other planets weren’t collapsing into war ravaged debris piles.

Once again you closed your eyes again to recenter yourself, another deep breath was lost to the usual dull chatter of the bridge as your lightsaber seemed to weigh down you hip more than usual.

You looked back to the stars, ignoring your own dim reflection in the transperisteel. This time you let your mind wander back to these unbothered planets, much like the one you were born on before being taken to the temple. You didn’t really remember your family- you often wondered if you had siblings, older or younger, were your parents kind, did you take after your mother or more after your father... what would you be doing if your were still with them? Perhaps you’d be in the workforce instead of a War General, maybe married to a someone who had grown up in the same town as you, would you have children?

An unwelcome flash of a well known face caused your mind to run with it. Letting your mind manifest a kind of mental holovid showing you a life you didn’t and could never have.

In this daydream you watched a version of yourself stumble through life, this version softer and more carefree without deadly weapons strapped to you or armor weighing down your light steps. Had this version of you ever even been wounded? Fought any battle? Surely this version of you hadn’t comforted dying soldiers and made tough battle calls, your eyes seemed too bright. Another figure appeared in your mind, even your physical form relaxed, Wolffe, the man you’d come to love despite your determination not to....

Even in this daydream where he was sans armor and unscarred, you’d always be able to pick him out of a crowd. He gave ‘softer-you’ a small smile before gingerly kissing their forehead. They/you relaxed into the gesture even with so many people bustling around- clearly you never had to worry about the consequences of your attachments. Normal people didn’t have to, being in love was a natural as the rivers of Naboo.

The image changed, their was a ring on your finger as your hands cupped Wolffe’s face for a sweet kiss. People who almost looked like you- family you supposed- clapped and cheered as Wolffe escorted you down the aisle. A wedding, normal people get married.

Another image, this time of a large hand rested against a bulbous stomach- your round stomach. Wolffe was smiling proudly before he kissed the top of your head. Normal people have kids.

You smiled softly at the cookie-cutter life you had come up with in a matter of minutes- an entire life planned out with a man you’d never dare tell your feelings to much less act on them. A true relationship, friends, marriage, houses, kids, jobs- no code or regulations, blaster fire or duels... Normalcy.

"What do you see out there, General?" A sudden voice shocked you out of your reverie. You jumped, startled, not used to people being able to sneak up on you. Suddenly your cheeks were red (a new phenomenon since you had met the commander of the 104th) as your eyes met one amber eye and one cybernetic eye- both trying to hide the amusement at your reaction.

"Wolffe, I thought I told you to call me (Y/N)." You tried to keep your tone even as your forced yourself to turn your gaze back to the view port. Allowing him to call you by your name was as far as your were willing to involve him in your forbidden delusions of romance.

"Sorry, si- (Y/N), I...didn’t mean to startle you." He apologized, his tone almost questioning. He truly hadn’t meant to, usually he couldn’t even if he wanted to- typically you could feel his force signature from across the cruiser. "Are you alright?"

"Just too tangled up in my thoughts." You mused, already mentally shredding the daydream as if that would also purge the relentless fluttering in your stomach, "Besides, I should be asking you that. I thought you were in the medbay being treated for a blaster wound."

That was another truth, you were under the impression that Wolffe was injured and probably arguing with whatever poor medic was ordering bedrest. And while the commander’s injury was probably the root source of your silent identity crisis, that was why you were so comfortable creating fantasies in the open space of the bridge- most of the other soldier’s actively avoided any Jedi when they had that vague, aloof face on (for fear of existential riddles and other ‘mystical drivel’ Jedi were known to hand out). Wolffe, however, never seemed to mind approaching you- even if all you had to offer was cheap wit and Jedi proverbs. If you had known he’d won the argument with the medic, you would have gone off to "mediate" in your quarters.

You allowed yourself to give him a once over, noting the bandages peeking out from under his deck officer’s uniform (you knew how much he hated that uniform, so you figured the medic confiscated his armor until he was cleared for duty). Wolffe shrugged, stiffly rotating his left shoulder as if to show you he was fine, "I’ve had worse."

You couldn’t help the half scoff, half chuckle that escaped you before you steadied your gaze back on the stars. You had seen him with worse- in the middle of battle with shrapnel wounds but still clawing his way to victory, stealthily mowing threw droids with a concussion during a rescue mission, blood dripping out a half cauterized lightsaber wound to his eye after you and Plo Koon forced Asajj off of him and he still managed to push through it to yell orders into his comms unit. Yes, of course, you’d seen him with worse, but that didn’t erase the worry you felt when you were informed that he’d been shot in the middle of that day’s battle. It didn’t erase the pain you felt in the force through your connection with him, nor did it erase the feeling of rage and vengeance that you had to push out of your mind for the rest of the fight.

Instead of voicing any of those thoughts, you simply hummed in acknowledgment, contenting yourself with being near him. Even unaware of your affection, his mere presence was calming. As usual, the Commander didn’t mind your silence, giving you the same once over your gave him before mirroring your position. He stood comfortably by your side, eyes searching for whatever you were staring at as he informed you, "I was told that General Plo Koon has been cleared for active duty again, effective as soon as we arrive back to Coruscant."

You nodded calmly, you had been told this too. Your time with the 104th as their interim general was coming to a close. Three months hadn’t seemed like that long until the report had put it in perspective for you- and yet three months was all it took for you to break a lifetime of teaching on the dangers of attachments. Probably for the best that you wouldn’t be around Wolffe on the daily, you could rededicate yourself to the Jedi lifestyle (even if now you realized you had never been quite adjusted to it anyway).

"I’m sure the Wolffe pack will be happy to have him back." Was all you said on the matter. Wolffe nodded before sparing you another glance.

"They will, but they’ll miss you too." He told you. You met his gaze and almost flinched at the amount of sincerity you found there. When he said they, you could only wonder... hope that he also meant he would miss you. The two of you held the stare for longer than you should have allowed with all of the other deck officer’s mulling about- you were sure someone was probably watching and wondering what was going on between the two of you (the answer was nothing, for better or for worse, but the last thing you needed was rumors floating about). As if Wolffe was thinking along the same lines, he cleared his throat before adding on, "They like having you around; they say your not like other Jedi."

‘Other Jedi’ (and you had a few in mind) would have taken offense to that, probably reprimanded the Commander for addressing them so casually followed by a scolding about how it doesn’t matter if the men like or don’t like having them around.

You just breathed a quiet laugh, thinking to yourself, "So they think so too."

Another silence fell over the pair of you, as you both pretended not to sneak peripheral glances at each other. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep those daydreams from filling your head as you stood there. Instead of the viewport, you lowered you gaze to the floor hoping to appear as if your were deep in thought. This kept you from looking at Wolffe’s face, which was probably for the best, but now in our peripheral your eyes landed on his hand. It was relaxed by his side, long fingers idly grazing the seam of his trousers- usually, in his armor, he’d be wearing gloves but in this uniform his copper skin stood out against the gray, dim metal landscape of the bridge. In another life, you’d easily take his hand, see how it felt in yours- was his skin soft or calloused, would your fingers interlock or would your hands press together, would his hands be warm, would he seek out your touch as well? But in this life, you tore your gaze away from his hand- grateful for the long sleeves of your cloak the his your hands as they clenched into fists to ground yourself to this reality.

Before you could completely shove the idea out of your head, an invitation spilled out of your lips, "I’m going to the mess, if you’d like to join. That is, if you haven’t already eaten?"

Wolffe seemed pleasantly surprised at the offer- one you hadn’t made in a week or so after your effort to avoid him when possible (not that he knew that was the reason), "Lead the way, General."

Despite his words, Wolffe, as he always did, kept easy stride beside you. Whereas any other trooper or any Jedi that was younger than you would fall behind you, and any Jedi that outranked you would walk in front of you- he was always directly beside you. A simple gesture, though it was, seemed like a monument- and it was never something he or you asked or talked about. He just fell instep with you because it felt right for him to be there. It was nice to have someone to walk side by side through life with, even for a short time. Sometimes, you’d find yourself instinctively looking up for him even when he wasn’t around- and being sad when you didn’t find him.

"Uh, General?" You vaguely heard as you continued to chew on your lip, not even considering someone was calling to you until it was followed up with a slightly more forceful, "(Y/N)!"

You snapped out of your thoughts immediately at the sound of your name, looking instinctively to your side for Wolffe, but he wasn’t there. Your head swiveled in confusion only to find him several paces back, staring after you. Absentmindedly, you wondered why he stopped as you halted yourself waiting for him to catch up. He didn’t move, instead gesturing to the door he stopped in front of, "... The mess? Isn’t that where we were going?"

Instantly, that pesky flush crept back to your cheeks. You were so caught up in your thoughts about Wolffe the you had not only left him behind, but also forgot what you were doing. Shuffling back to him, you tried to get your voice steady, "Right, right, yes, apologies."

Wolffe watched you carefully as you avoided his gaze, carding the doors open. If you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t have heard the concern in his voice when he asked, "Are you sure you’re alright, gen- (Y/N)?"

You gave him a soft smile and a nod in an attempt to convince him, but he simply raised an eyebrow in return- clearly not swayed by the meager display. Any other day you would have argued with him, assuring him you were ok, but now you didn’t trust your voice not to raise several octaves.

And besides, you most definitely were not alright. Your time with the 104th was coming to a close, and you were trying to convince you slowly breaking heart that it was a good thing. ____

perhaps a pt 2?

#commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #wolffe

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

called a thousand times.

prompt: “did you miss me enough to drink or did you drink enough to miss me?” (orig.)

this drabble is more an exercise in catharsis and serves as my first (!!!) jin piece. i dedicate this to my loves @jinsearthh and @seokjinssi lmao. enjoy!

pairing. ksj x reader. rating. general. tags. angst. but like, not really terrible angst. just semi-bad angst. wc. 1.8k.

The call comes in the dead of night while you’re curled up in linen sheets and comfortably drooling into an unbelievably worn white plush. It buzzes loudly in your ears, vibrating obnoxiously against your pillow. Sleeping with your phone in bed is a bad habit you’ve never really been able to break.

You’re barely awake - caught in that strange in-between land of lucidity - when you hazard a glance at the time and number. 2:47 AM. Far too late for you to be receiving calls - especially from contact you don’t have saved.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” It’s a voice you’d never expected to hear. A voice you haven’t heard in forever, clear as bells through the phone line. “It’s Jin.”

You’re wide awake now.

“Hello?” It’s terribly jarring. It jolts you straight up in the bed that hasn’t felt his warmth in close to three years, every notch of your spine electrified by the simple sound. It rings, bouncing around in your ears.

You should reply. You don’t know how.

“Are you there?” Uncertainty and something else - something heavy and medicinal - coats syllables and turns them into molasses. It drips off each vowel, rounding each consonant. Your entire world feels like it’s spinning, tilted on its axis by this strange happening.

“Jin?” It doesn’t sound how it should - wishful and more than a little surprised. It trips heavy off your tongue, splitting the darkness with the radiance of your hope.

He laughs on the other end. You realise now why he sounds different, the familiar squeak of his amusement dulled by liquor. He’s drunk or at least, on his way to it. The telltale signs are there: the faintest hiccough after every second inhale, the vaguely nasally first syllable, the dulling of his rain-streaked laughter.

“It’s me,” he confirms, far more comfortable than he should be. The relief practically radiates through the phone, further severing the strings that bid you back to bed. “I didn’t know if you’d pick up or if you even had the same number still.”

At least he’s honest, you think.

The conversation is carried on like there’s nothing at all strange, as if he - Kim Seokjin - hasn’t just called up his ex-girlfriend at quarter to three in the morning.

“How are you? Did I wake you up?”

You know your silence is rude. It’s stifling in a way that even he can’t combat, sitting stony between you two as you try to wrap your mind around the current situation.

“Hello?” He repeats, vaguely uncertain but not otherwise bothered. That bothers you.

“Why did you call?” You can’t help the question. It pierces the quiet before you can catch it, disappearing into the night like a thief. It takes with it all of your turmoil, tucking years of hurt in its pockets to wear on its sleeves.

That seems to catch him off guard. He inhales once - a sharp thing, right through his front teeth.

“Ah, yeah. I—“ You wonder whether he’s even given this any thought or if he’s just been driven to it by the beguiling hand of liquor. You wouldn’t put it past him, though he’s never been one to drink himself into bad ideas. He was smarter than that.

He pauses. It’s long, drawn out, punctuated by city sounds you assume come from 27 floors below his apartment. They’re muffled and unrecognisable, the din of Yongsan-gu too faraway.

“I… was thinking of you.”

There’s a strange confidence to his response, a self-assured calm that feels like moments before a storm. It eases uncertainty over your limbs, still wrought with sleep and sluggish. He shouldn’t sound this way after so long, as if he’d never left. A part of it feels nice, warm and welcomed into the cavity behind your ribs, tucked neatly alongside the organ that stutters because of him; the other feels like a knife to the heart, slotted right between the vulnerable spaces you’d shown him.

You echo him in uncertainty. “Thinking of me?”

“I wanted to apologise.”

Now that’s the last thing you’d expected.

“Apologise for what?” Not that there aren’t so many things Jin owes you - so many I’m sorrys that would never make up for the rivers you’d wept, the nights you hadn’t slept.

“How I left things. How we left things.” Something not quite a laugh comes, dresses his words up prettily like a sinner in his Sunday best, eager to learn and repent and do better. “I know I can’t undo the past but I’m sorry for the ways I hurt you.”

It’s so vague even you aren’t sure what he’s referring to. The brief but blinding relationship you’d had with him? The heartbreaking, determined way in which he’d broken up with you? The months thereafter when he’d still warmed your bed, where the strange in-between was no longer between awake and dreams, but love and not-love? The pieces he’d left you to pick up yourself when he’d disappeared, seemingly out of the blue?

“I still think about you a lot. I miss you. I wanted to make it right.” When he backtracks, you realise he’s far smarter than you give him credit for. “—Try to make it right, that is.”

“Why?” You should demand more. You know you should. Yet this is the only thing that comes, dripping like the tears that line your lashes, glittering jewels that you’d trade for even an ounce of understanding.

He hesitates. There’s a clinking glass, ice, and then a thick swallow you can hear quite clearly. “Why? Why what?”

“Why did you leave?” You’re really trying - holding onto composure with a white-knuckled grip that leaves your hands bleeding - but it’s futile. The grief is too much - a thousand pound weight that splits the frayed edge of your composure in a clean line. “Things were…” Weird, strange, undoubtedly a bad idea, as messing with your ex tended to be. “Things were okay, I thought. And then out of nowhere, you were gone. You stopped calling.”

For three long weeks, you’d jolted awake at 3 AM, waiting for the dedicated ringtone to alert you of his call. It never came. You’d waited even longer after that, though you’d learnt to turn your phone to silent.

Months turned to years and then one day, nearly four months later - there he was, displayed as a missed call at just after midnight.

You’d blocked him then, for your own sanity. And then another six months after that, you’d unblocked him. A moment of weakness you’d all but forgotten about until now. You’d figured it wouldn’t matter - that there was no way he’d contact you again. So much time had passed and he was Kim Seokjin; you were nothing but a small blip on his radar - a tiny ink splatter on the story of his life.

“You blocked me.” Or not.

You tuck this knowledge - his knowledge - away into the manila folder you keep stored away in a dusty cabinet, covered in yellow tape that reads Do Not Open.

“Before that. Three years ago.”

“I honestly… don’t remember.” The answer stings, candour a struck match to your already miserable nerves. “It was bad timing, I think. We were on the phone one night. I was heading back from filming and I just remember being so mad.” That doesn’t surprise you. Jin’s temper rages like a wildfire before burning out like a match. Intense but short-lived. “You were having a bad day, too. You’d started your new job and you were stressed out about something not working.”

You recall it clearly - can call to mind exactly what brief you’d been working and how that night had felt awful. You’d hardly slept, almost pushed to tears by the frustration you’d felt. For the life of you, though, you can’t recall an argument. You’d been happy to hear from him - found solace in the sound of his voice, even as you’d worked through pages that made you want to tear your hair out.

“I remember you were dismissive and it just…” You imagine he shrugs, those impossibly wide shoulders of his rolling beneath something soft and sleep-appropriate. His brow’s probably knit, little dent forming between them as always happens when he’s faced with discomfort. “I didn’t want to deal with it.”

It’s an honest answer, which you’re grateful for. It sheds light where there was one.

But it also hurts far more than you’d expected, stirring to life an ugly aching sob in your chest. One night. One night was all it’d taken. The realisation is sobering in its pain.

“And… now you want to apologise for that?” It doesn’t make sense. Not to you, at least, who holds three long years of unrequited love for a man who’d thrown you away over nothing.

“I want to apologise for a lot of stuff.” Things he doesn’t seem ready to articulate just yet, either due to his inebriation or contrition. “I didn’t think you’d pick up, so I’m kind of still working through it in my head.” You can hear his smile, turned playful by alcohol.

It’s like waging war when you speak - your heart against your head. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“But… I miss you.”

I miss you too, you almost say.

“Did you miss me enough to drink or did you drink enough to miss me?” Comes hushed instead.

Jin isn’t ready for the conversation. You know he isn’t - can tell by how he inhales shakily, knocks back another drink that rattles ice noisily. “That’s not fair.”

“You’re not fair,” you return in a voice that’s meant to be scathing but seems to have found itself at the bottom of his glass, wet and diluted. “You’re calling me because you feel bad and for whatever reason, you think I’m going to make that go away.”

He’s not wrong - you would, in a heartbeat. But there’s a very big difference between would and should and you’re doing your best to learn what that is, even if it hurts.

“What do you think’s going to happen after I forgive you? Are we just going to go back to our lives like nothing happened?”

“If you want.”

You laugh, a sound that’s brutalised by your own sadness and barely sounds like anything at all. “And what if I don’t want that? What if I want you in my life?”

Another pause, another drink. There’s a part of you that worries for him.

“You know that’s not an option. Not right now. We’ve got so much happening right with our comeback and then enlistment and…” It’s a cop out. You can see it from a mile away, a red flag raised to mock you as Jin speaks. “I can’t give you what you want.”

“Then neither can I.”

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound

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izzyphantomgamer · 4 years

Text

Mine [Kuroo Tetsurou]

Read with caution LMAO

Voices. The voices that rang through the corridors of their school. Kuroo Tetsurou only let out a sigh as he walked to his classroom, but the peace he wanted was impossible to obtain. He was unable to get his night rest and his head began to throb due to the lack of sleep. He paid no attention to the surrounding students. They should be seated now - he thought to himself. “Ah, Kuroo san!” the said male turned his head to see Yamamoto Taketora. “What is it?” He asked. He observed his underclassman. He noticed at that moment that he was not in his school uniform but in his tracksuit. He was confused at first, but in a mere second, he realized that he forgot about their morning training. “Shoot, I forgot about it. Come on!” He said and they ran to their locker room. The matter slipped his mind, he hoped to be saved from a reprimand. Maybe it was the fatigue from the previous night - he wondered. “Kuroo, you’re late!” Yaku scolded him. He tucked his shirt in his shorts and he was ready. So were the others, Kuroo was the only one left to change, and he did. He took off his sleeveless vest before he undid his tie, he heard the casual conversation they began while they waited. He was not interested in their conversation, rather he felt the need to regain his focus and wake himself up before he made unnecessary mistakes that only Haiba Lev was capable of. Once he took off his dress shirt, his torso was left bare and he felt a chill down his spine. Winter was around the corner. It took a minute for him to realize that he had several eyes on his figure. He saw them stare at him, rather they stared at his left arm and left side. He sensed the curiosity and worry, but he said no word and waited for them to speak. “Kuroo, what happened? You have cuts all over your left side!” Kai remarked and all of them were quiet, even Kozume Kenma was in disbelief. He never saw his friend in such a state, and to say that he was alarmed and preoccupied was the least. “Oh, this?” He ran his cold fingers over the injury on his arm, it made him wince but he smiled at his team. He tried to reassure them that it was nothing to be worked up about. “I played with a little kitten yesterday, but she began to misbehave when I took her in my arms.” and those words were enough to dissolve their concern, instead it was replaced by laughter and a small scold from their libero. “Kuroo san, you should know better than that!” “Kuroo, what if those injuries cost you to perform poorly?!” Kuroo just joined in their laughter and began to respond to Yaku, mockery in his words. However, Kenma was silent, he observed his friend from the corner of his eye and a frown was on his face. He knew that his reason was dishonest, but he preferred to not voice out his thoughts. After all, it was a matter that should never be said out loud. It was a problem to train when one has their body covered in scratches and Kuroo Tetsurou confirmed the statement. It was a hassle to block, but he endured the pain and to prevent any inconvenience, he never uttered a word although it was taking a toll on his stamina. “Ah, Christmas is coming. I really don’t want to spend another Christmas alone.” Yamamoto began, the frivolous conversation was a normal occurrence when they had a break. “Yamamoto senpai, you have your family though! So you’re not alone, what are you saying?” Lev interjected, and he gave him a dead stare. Shibayama sensed the tension and dangerous aura their ace had and braced himself. “That’s not what I meant!” he shouted and threw his water bottle at him. A collective laughter once more erupted among the group while Lev tried to defend himself from his upperclassman, but the whole ordeal was short-lived and the attention was put on their captain. “Kuroo san, aren’t you popular among girls?” He began “I mean I always hear them talk about you. Don’t you have a girlfriend? At least someone you like?” It was meant as an innocent and curious question, but it was a topic that, mainly from their ace, they often discussed when their captain was nowhere to be seen. They never really saw him interact with the other gender, unless it was related to school. What they expected to see was not the current reaction they witnessed: his face began to grow red, he leaned his face on the palm of his hand and he averted his gaze. He felt his heart restless in his chest. The gym was quiet, they were in awe. Kuroo Tetsurou, their captain who was infamous due to his provocative words and actions, the one who often teased people for amusement, the one who was always confident in his own self was silent and moreover, embarrassed. The silence was broken the moment Kuroo gave a soft hum as a response. An uproar it was for the following minutes. They had to hear the story. It was exhaustive, he never felt such exhaustion before. He was now in class, his usual seat at the back of the room next to the window. It was Japanese literature, but he paid no attention to the professor that conducted the lesson. “Hey, [L/N] has been absent for a week now. Is she sick?” “Now that you mention it, even Kimura has been missing for a week.” “Do you think it has something to do with [L/N]?” “What? You mean they eloped?!” “Quiet!” The group of students were quick to dissolve their conversations. Kuroo Tetsurou felt himself bite his lower lip. He felt a discomfort, a sensation that was solely identified as jealous, form in his chest. It somewhat irritated him to no end, their constant gossip and mischievous words, they should all just be quiet because all they do was put malice in all matter knowing nothing. His eyes were now on the empty desks in front of him, one belonged to [L/N] and one next to it belonged to Kimura. Oh how Kuroo hated him, they only talked on a few occasions but he never missed it. The way he looked at [L/N], those eyes disgusted him and wished them to be gone. However, his gaze soften when he looked at the desk where the [h/c] sat for three whole years. It was her favourite seat. He was a little embarrassed to admit that he always picked the seat behind her, but he felt happy that way. He was able to look at her whenever he wanted. Her sweet smile, her soft hair that smelled of [favourite scent] and her beautiful eyes that were so bright. It always made the butterflies in his stomach out of control. She was perfect to him. He wanted to kiss her but the fact that he was unable to made him sad. But it would not be long. "I'm home." The black haired male said to nobody in particular, a response was the last thing he expected, only silence answered. It had been a while since he heard his parents but he was not bothered by their absence. The house was cold and dark, but it was already evening so it was a given for it to be in those conditions. He discarded his shoes at the front door and made his way to his bedroom, he wanted to rest after a long day of physical and intellectual activity. He opened the door to his room and he smiled. He was finally at peace. He settled his bag on the floor, near his bed and he sat next to it and afterwards he reached for the remote control and turned on the TV. There was nothing much to see during the early evening. A soft light came from the screen, a simple broadcast of a breaking news. "A body was found near the river, it appears that it suffered several inhumane injuries, the most peculiar damage were the empty eye sockets of the victim." "People should be careful outside." Kuroo whispered. "Ah, we have been informed that the name of the boy is 18 year old Kimura Rentarou." The noises that came from the television was drowned by Kuroo, he had a soft smile on his lips. Instead of the cold floor, he laid himself on his bed and whispered. "Did you hear that, little kitten? That little asshole is no more. We can be happy together now. Just you and me. My parents disappointed me though, they never wanted us to be together but they are gone now so you have not one single thing to worry about, my love." He said as he pulled the girl close to his chest. He felt her tremble under his arms. Ah, how cute she truly is - he thought to himself while he licked the tears that escaped from under the blindfold. "You should behave yourself, little kitten. You scratched me so much last night that I had trouble at volleyball and because you misbehaved I had no choice but to tie you up." He chuckled softly and he held her firmly, in a tight embrace. "I love you, [F/N]. You're only mine. Mine."

#Kuroo #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #yandere kuroo #haikyuu x reader

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troublesometrollhunters · 3 years

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Dawna's Journey

A/N: Guys this took so long XD. Please give me feedback/comments/reblogs if not on the post than anon. Look I proof read it so much now I'm sick of it lmao. I know theres grammer mistakes but If I didn't post it tonight it was never getting posted. Anyways please enjoy this!!! :D

~~~

Dawn stood at the edge of the kingdom. The night was still as the guards had retired for the evening and she was left alone with her thoughts. Standing at the gate she stared beyond the iron bars into the foggy night where the woods were.

She was steps away from what could be the biggest mistake of her life. By doing this, by going out into the woods to find the cure for one of the dying trolls in the dungeon, she was betraying her families name and their status along with the throne. Her uncle, her mother, her sister, Merlin, Lancelot. All of them would tell her this is wrong. That trolls were the enemy.

Swallowing thickly, hands glowing to illuminate the night she touched the cold stone of the castle's defense wall before brushing her fingers against the iron bars that kept the trolls and fae at bay. Hissing she pulls her hand away, shaking it to make the sting disappear. Frowning as she stares out at the woods they seem to beckon her. Walking away from the gate and along the wall she goes towards a thick patch of ivy. There hidden behind the plants was a small crack. One she found as a child and still used for situations like this.

Slipping into the greenery rough material scrapes against her catching on her clothes but she stays determined scooting through the stone. As Ivy brushes past her face, her boots sink into the soft grass and she edges herself away from the protection of Camelot. Looking back at the castle her hands shook as she stared at her room that overlooked the very land she stood on. She'd wandered the woods many times and explored their wonders but this time was different. This time she wasn't visiting peaceful territory or exploring her magical studies in secret, this time she was going straight to the Gum Gums. She was risking everything and what made her the most nervous about it, was she didn't care. It was the right thing to do. No matter how many people said it was wrong she felt in her heart it wasn't.

Backing away from the wall, away from her home, she realizes this could be the last time she sees Camelot if she fails. Taking it in, etching every small detail into her mind she sighs. Things used to be different. When Arthur had Gwenivere she breathed life into him and the castle. She made people hope and kept the kingdom together as the war against the Gum Gums raged on. But now the kind queen was gone and Dawn felt keeping the peace fell on her. However, as much influence as she had in the kingdom and over her uncle, Arthur never really listened after he lost his wife. He was too lost in his grief to hear reason. He banished most magic and as Dawn felt the cool air ruffle her hair she knew soon she'd be next. She couldn't fix Camelot. Not by herself but she could try and make her uncles wrongs right. Starting with the trolls he'd locked away.

Taking one last look, the moon shines silver light over her kingdom protecting her people inside the wall. Clutching her cloak tightly Dawn closes her eyes and runs into the woods, leaving no trace that she'd ever left. She feels the grass squish beneath her feet and the whistling wind almost knocks off her hood as she runs.

Magically summoning her silver and gold armor the chainmail echoes in the quiet woods. Her uncle had banned magic but that never stopped Dawn. Her sister did parlor tricks for fun but Dawn craved more. It was in these woods she learned the meaning of magic and through Merlin's notes she taught herself the way of the fae world. The elements were her teachers and she hoped they'd give her mercy tonight.

Running faster each step she takes makes a resounding clank that bounces through the trees. Pushing past snagging branches, brambles, and thick underbrush she keeps going only one thing on her mind, getting that troll cure so her friend would survive. What an absurd notion, that she princess of Camelot was friends with a common troll. Smiling as she thought of him she kept pushing on, chest heaving as she thundered through the woods. Stepping over small streams and avoiding roots.

White puffs left her mouth as she pushed on. The cold kept her awake and alert even as her legs burned from running so long. Dawn stops, armor now silent as the night returns to its previous stillness.

Killahead.

The girl swallows nervously and takes a cautious step forward. The bridge was old and full of divine energy, she could feel its power radiating from where she stood. It acted as a divide between the world of trolls and Gum Gums. Gunmar said he owned the whole woods but that was a lie. However, past the bridge there was no doubt that was his land. As she took in deep breaths chest burning she studied Killahead. Cracked stone, worn carvings from centuries ago, and overgrown moss greeted her. A bridge that once ran over a flowing river had been dry longer than Dawn had been alive. She knew this place had power. It held generations of knowledge and stories. It could be the rise or down fall of civilizations.

But unlike the trees and forest Killahead did not talk. It just listened. Cracked stone keeping the secrets of all those that walked past it. Closing her eyes she steps away from the safety of neutral territory and towards the tarnished stone.

Reaching out, her hand tightly clutches the side of the bridge. As she rubs her thumb over the side the stone feels smooth from years of being worn down. Stepping onto the Killahead bridge it's uneven with patches of grass slowly taking over the stone. Dawn feels the slickness of moss and dew under her boots and tightens her grip on the side she's holding as she trudges forward.

The moon shone above her through the leaves and pausing she tilts her head taking it in as darkness was soon to come. Listening closely, closing her eyes to hear the forest around her it was too silent. She realized someone was following her, that the GumGums knew she was here. Refusing to give up just because she felt fear she stood tall as she crossed the bridge. The branches overhead now choked out any light and it was a miracle she could still see as she made it to the end of the bridge. Standing there taking a deep breath her hand grazed the moss that had taken over Killahead. This was her last chance. To turn back and run. To go back to the castle and ignore her uncles troll business. To allow him to continue what he was doing. But... she could not.

Filled with determination she takes her first step off Killehad. Heading away from the bridge and into the deep woods she was officially in Gum Gum territory. Her weapon wasn't drawn and it was clear she wasn't an active threat. Though Gum Gums never were ones to pick up on hints, if she had to fight she came prepared but she'd rather leave the woods unscathed.

Venturing deeper into Gum Gum territory her chainmail echoes through the dense foliage. Low hissing and rustling could be heard from the bushes as scouts watched her. Golden and green glowing eyes all around her as she boldly kept walking. Her hand was now on her hip weapon ready to draw but she hadn't felt the need yet. She was hoping to speak to a general or a higher-up GumGum and somehow barter for the cure but as the growls got louder Dawn knew she'd have to fight. She was waiting for someone to come and address her and the soldiers watching her seemed to understand her silent demand as they kept their distance.

Hearing something Dawn reacts quickly. Turning boots sinking into the mud as she grouds herself her blade made a distinctive swish before it clanked loudly striking against Gunmars sword. Sparks fly and the temporary bright light causes her green eyes to shine under her cloak. The brute growled in her face and she growled back surprising the GumGum King.

"You wonder deep in our territory Knight." He hisses. Dawn responds by pressing her sword harder against his. Remembering what the knights had done, she leans back before she puts all her effort into her sword pushing the blade against his forcing him back. Stumbling Gunmar catches himself. His blue eye stares at her cloak as he pauses surprised by the human's strength. Tightening her grip on her sword showing no hesitation that she'd strike again he chuffs unamused.

His dark blue eye scans her form but all he sees is a long cloak and the shine of her sword in the dim light. Sniffing the air he chuffs surprised. It was a magical blade. A mage? Hadn't Arthur murdered them all?

"I don't want to fight. I come seeking your aid." Dawn states tilting her head to look at the GumGum king. He couldn't see her face but he could feel her stare, those green eyes haunted him. This was no normal human. No normal mage. Chuffing he sneers tilting his head.

"Oh? And why would I help a fleshbag morsel like you?" He snarls beginning to pace around her. Dawn followed his motions watching him closely. He admitted he was curious at what this knight could want at how someone could be so stupid and bold. They were foolish to come here but from the sword skills they showed he could see why they assumed they'd be safe.

"Because one of your own is dying and I'm trying-" Dawn starts but Gunmar growls bearing his fangs at her.

"SILENCE!" He roars. Dawn closes her mouth and waits. He comes close and sniffs her before huffing hot air in her face unimpressed. She reaches up to keep her hood on not wanting him to see who she really is. If he knew she was Dawna Noble of the PenDragon line it'd be over. He'd send her corpse to Arthur and her friend's life would be lost before she had a chance to win it.

Rolling his eye, he turns annoyed by her insistent presence. "Go home whelp." He orders. "Humans speak only lies and when it isn't lies it's stupidity. Get out and don't return and you may tell your friends at the Round Table you survived. You are no meal and you're not worth the effort." He huffs waving her off. Dawn stands shocked as he begins walking away. She just ran from the safety of her home to try and save a troll's life and Gunmar doesn't even acknowledge her? He pushes her away like she's just a confused child. Grip tightening on her sword she grits her teeth shaking. She had come too far to turn back now.

"I'm not going anywhere!" She snaps. Running to stand in front of the Gum Gum king she spreads her arms blocking his path. She's shaking making her chainmail rattle. She'd come so far he couldn't deny her now! "I came here to Gum Gum territory at night! It's important please at least listen to what I have to say." She begs. He looked annoyed and she frowned, lowering her arms. "I need something… and I know your people are the only ones who can give it to me." Stepping closer to Gunmar unafraid and praying for the life of her friend he growls at her. She's about to respond with a growl of her own when a sharp tug from her cloak made her stumble back from the King choking. She was so distracted talking to Gunmar she forgot to watch her back.

Tilting her head clawing at the clasp around her neck the Gum Gum prince was behind her and his claws had snagged her cape. He ripped at the fabric chuckling as she gasped for air. Unclasping the cloak knowing it was her life or her identity Dawn turned eyes blazing. The grip on her sword tightened making it glow as her green eyes glared into his red ones. She sneered at the Prince of Darkness teeth bared. He stumbled back in surprise eyes wide as he stared at her armor before staring at her face. Dropping her cloak he stepped closer curious as he sniffed her. Her amor bore Camelots symbol and stepping closer he clearly saw the Noble clans markings in the carvings of her amor. Dawn pushes Bular's face away when he gets to close and he chuckles.

"... Dawna? The King's niece? A child?" He laughs but Dawn stays undeterred. Her grip remains on her sword as she points the end at him. He chuckled amused. It seemed she was braver than the rest of her family or stupider.

"This child." Dawn says slowly eyes narrowed into slits as she feels anger course through her veins. Her hands burn coursing with energy and suddenly the trees begin to shake as the branches above them shift. Distracted she pushes Bular over with the butt of her sword forcing him against the wet grass. The Moonlight leaked through the trees as leaves swirled around her. Had it been the day she surely would've killed him. But that wasn't her intention.

She wanted him to see her. To fear her and as her armor shone as bright as the moon GumGums hissed backing up at the glare. "Is not one to be triffled with. I seek something and I'm not leaving till I get it." She states glaring down at Bular. He growls at her, angry she'd knocked him down but she seems unaffected by his silent threat.

"Like we'd ever help you." Bular huffs pushing her sword away from his face. Dawn puts it back in her sheath and sighs. As she took a deep breath she could see this wasn't working. She needed to switch tactics.

Thinking back on everything she knew of Gum Gums she paused, she'd need to choose her next words wisely. "I'm not asking for help. That's weak." She hisses. "I'm asking for a fair trade." Dawn finally says. She holds out her hand for the Prince but he snarls, snapping his teeth at her fingers. She pulls her hand away to avoid the bite and rolls her eyes. Turning away from Bular she looks back to Gunmar.

"You have nothing we want." The troll states uninterested. Dawn hums. No she didn't, did she? What was she expecting? The Gum Gums to reach into their darkened hearts and present her the cure like a gift? This was doomed to end in a fight.

Hand on her sword she hums as Bular shifts behind her. The brute huffs as he gets up, bumping her aside as he walks by to get to his father. Both the beasts now glared at her. Dawn wishes she could say she was without fear as they stared at her but she'd come so far she wouldn't turn back now.

"Leave your wasting our time." Bular says uncaring of her achievements or her power. "Your so skinny we'd choke on your bones." He adds. His father laughs head bomping his son but Dawn shakes anger radiating through her. Eyes turning a dark green she feels the grip on her powers loosen. In a perfect circle around the three of them the grass dies. The two trolls watch as the plants around them begin to wither, roots twisting and cracking as wood split and leaves fluttered down. Then it all turned black rotting away. Facing them her eyes burn with a need to prove herself. The moon shines on her and Dawn's armor reflects it's light showing her power as she stood in the dead grass.

"Then fight me. In a duel." She demands standing her tallest as she looks at them.

She wasn't leaving without that cure. She may fall here but she falls with more grace than either of these so called warriors.

Gunmar leans in close his horns jutting out like a crooked crown as he snarls at her. Dawn snarls back. She. Wasn't. Leaving. Without. That. Cure.

"... Fine. You wish to die? I will not stop you." Turning Bular and him begin to stalk away. Soldiers surround her and as she draws her blade eyes wide she sees Gunmar pause. The soldiers don't advance or go for an attack. Dawn turns and Gunmar stares at her waiting. She realizes she is supposed to follow. Taking one last look back at Killahead and the safety of the forest beyond she picks her shredded cloak off the dead grass before reclasping it around her neck.

It seems she got what she wanted.

~~~

An hour or two must have passed making Dawn fear she wouldn't get back before Daylight. If her bed was empty when the castle awoke they'd send a search party and she'd never be aloud to leave again. Arthur would watch her every move and Merlin… she'd never be aloud to learn another spell. Trudging on through the darkness of the woods fearing that Daybreak was near she felt weak. Her legs were tired from the long trek but she knew it was worth it. She watched as they passed trees with scratch marks in them and trollish sayings and carvings she couldn't decipher. Dawn pauses touching one of the trees and tracing the carving it flashed green and the words changed allowing her to read it. Tilting her head she squints.

"Home…?" She mumbled seeing the deep groves in the tree. Dawn felt she knew this language from a distant memory as if it had been murmered once before as if it'd been read to her. Trying to remember how she knew it, a jab to her back made her hiss.

Poked with a guards spear she walks away and observes her surroundings closely. Seeing more trolls watching from the bushes, standing guard Dawn realized they had led her into the heart of their territory. Her eyes are wide in wonder as she looks around enamoured. She'd heard such dark stories about the GumGums home but standing here she could only feel the warmth of fellow warrior spirits.

Tents were set up and huts made from the surrounding trees and rock. Everything was handcrafted in a way Dawn never knew trolls were capable of. Woven branches and carved rock shielded families from the cold as they laid together. Fires raged in pits and the flames made the GumGums eyes reflect as they watched her follow their king.

Younglings ran around the camp jumping into bushes only to leap out at their friends causing squeals of joy to ring through the camp. Mothers and fathers sat and chatted as they groomed their newborn whelps, licking them clean as they made little squeaks of protest wiggling in their parents grip. Soldiers sparred and played chuffing at one other as they rolled around and smashed their helmets against each other, kits cheering them on. The more she saw the more she began to question her faith and allegiance to Arthur.

Was this any different than home? They wove intricate baskets of grass that held food and supplies just like the weavers and potters of Camelot. There were some differences such as how and what they wove but the patterns told a story just like her people. Warriors brought back what they'd hunted putting them in piles for all to share similar to the town's trade center. Children played games with each other running around as adults took turns to watch. Was this not exactly like Camelot? Was the way the soldiers behaved any different than Camelots knight barracks or the teens copying the soldiers exactly like young squires? She could almost imagine the GumGums as humans in this light, as a thriving tribe deep in the woods who wanted nothing to do with Camelots culture.

As she was pushed forward by GumGum spears to keep pace, she stumbled lost in her own thoughts.

Stumbling forward trying to wrap her head around the fact that the GumGums weren't all evil she stared up at Gunmar. From this angle walking with his son he almost seemed... human. He could've eaten her or mauled her when they first encountered each other but instead he listened to her pleas and now he was giving her a chance to fight. That was more than what Arthur ever did for her. More than Lancelot believed she could do. Who was the real monster in this war? Was there even a need for war?

Turning Gunmar meets her gaze and she looks away. She decides to study his camp as this may be her only chance. Looking around taking in the dense foliage and how they'd made it a home she felt eyes on her. Turning whelps watched her curiously blinking owlishly at her. She wonders if they've ever seen a human. Well a live human. Bending down and pausing to wave they ran off squeaking to their mothers. Staring at the troll families who held their children close and their harsh gazes as they glared at the princess, Dawn realized she was the only monster here.

Bular chuffed amused, making Dawn blush. Of course they'd be scared of her. After all she was the enemy. Getting up and pulling her cloak closer plants nervously bloomed around her and nearby crystals glowed reacting to her emotions. She flushed embarrassed at her lack of control and quickly followed the King of Darkness, curious eyes watching as they left.

~~~

Lead to an arena Dawn pauses in awe. She was standing in the fabled GumGums battle room, she'd only ever heard stories. She never thought she'd see this place. Looking out at the various weapons placed around their training space. There were axes, swords, spears, javelins, maces, and other weapons she didn't recognize. Her green eyes widened in amazement studying the colosseum from the balcony they stood on. It overlooked everything and she was determined to write this down and document it later. The arena was large and wide carved out from the center of the mountain, hidden deep in the core. She could see statues of fallen warriors decorating the rims of the arena. Stone steps carved from years of work circled the colosseum allowing trolls to watch as others spared. She also noticed dents in the walls and wondered about the battles that caused such scars.

Running forward Glowing Green crystals jutted from the ground and tapping one, it glowed brightly reacting to her touch. Her heart swelled at the magic in this room, the history. She felt an ancient power in this place and could feel the souls of thousands of trolls who had fallen here. It was exhilarating unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Unlike anything in Camelot.

"Our rules are simple fleshbag." Gunmar states demanding her attention. Turning away from the balconies edge and focusing on him he snarls from his place on his throne beginning. Skulls decorated his seat and Dawn swallows before meeting his gaze listening closely. "Rule One. Always finish the fight and never hesitate." He states slamming his hand onto an old skull crushing it. Dawn nods aware of this troll custom despite how much she despised it. "Rule Two it must be your blade that ends the fight it can not be your enemies." Holding her sword tightly Dawn understands this. If she lost her weapon she could not use her opponent's to end them.

Gunmar smirked, leaning forward on his throne of bones as he chuffed in her face. Hot air sent her hood back and made her long hair shift as he leered down at her. "And Rule Three young mage. No magic." He instructs.

Dawna chokes hearing the last demand. No magic? Since when was that a Gum Gum rule? She was never informed that would be part of the deal. Looking over at Gunmars son she brings her sword close.

Bular was at least twelve feet tall and Gunmar fifteen. She was a third their size, maybe half at best.

Without her magic it would be impossible to defeat either of them. She could fight but she didn't have proper training in dueling only practice from when she copied Lancelot. Not to mention the split swords she'd brought were magic. She'd only have the weak weapon she swiped from the knight hall which to a troll was barely a dagger. She wasn't even sure it could go through a trolls skin. As they watched waiting for an answer, Dawn's hands clenched beginning to glow. She supposed magic would be an unfair advantage but wasn't it unfair to make her fight without it? Magic was apart of her, apart of this place. To deny her such a large part of herself… Trembling she felt sick. Perhaps Gunmar and Arthur shared more than she assumed.

"Well princess?" Gunmar sneers the title like an insult before smirking, licking his fangs. "What is your decision? Do not waste our time." Dawn shakes. He thinks her a coward, a cheat but she would always keep true to her word. She came here. She had to finish this. Looking at her hands before closing her eyes she takes a deep breath. The glow dies and their left in the dull light of the green crystals.

Looking up and nodding Gunmar chuffed staring at her. Sighing, she looked down at herself allowing her armor to fade away. She felt naked without her protection but If they considered magic cheating then she would respect their rules as she was on their land.

"I do not cheat. I do not need magic to win. And if I fall there's no one to go back to anyways..." Closing her eyes thinking of home she knows either way she wins. She either dies and meets Gwenivere in Avalon or she returns to the castle and saves her friend's life.

Whispering a prayer to her family and hoping this was not her last night alive Dawn nods. She stands before the King and Prince unarmored and defenceless cept a small blade she held. Gunmar turns and not a moment later an attendant walks in carrying what Dawn feared most. Ravenstone.

Rare and made from the dust of fallen magic users ravenstone blocked any magic from being used, containing the energy and even stealing it if a mage was around it too long. She holds the stone in her hands when the attendant passes it to her and pauses seeing they were cuffs.

She swallows as they watch her and closing her eyes she slips them on wearing them as bracelets. Shivering Dawn could feel them working, they would not only block her magic but drain her energy as well. She'd have to be smart in this battle or she'd surely fall.

Rubbing the cuffs nervously she feels the intricate runes carved into the stone. They told the story of her kind, the origin of magic. A zap of electricity goes up her arms making her feel more powerful despite the impediment. "I do not intend to lose." She states boldly. Bular chuffs sword dragging against the ground. Neither did he. Turning towards the arena she begins walking down the stairs, the brute following her.

It seemed Bular had decided he would be her fighting partner and Gunmar their witness.

Waiting at the bottom she paused. Spinning the sword in her hand she stared into the steel looking at her reflection. If she died today she died a hero. If she won it wouldn't be long lived. Dictatuous was running out of time. He needed the cure. Now.

Attacking her while she's distracted, Dawn quickly focuses back on Bular, on the battle. Their swords clash against each other creating sparks as they glare at one other. She was tired, had less fighting experience, and was weaker. Smirking Dawn pushed Bular back, she guessed that made this a fair match.

Clawing at the ground gaining his footing he snarls and charges at her. Dawn thinking quickly jumps up and flips over him as he swings his sword where she had just stood. Landing she turns holding up her blade as his crashed against hers. He sneered pushing down and she cries out feeling the increasing pressure as he pushes down. Huffing she kicks him back making both of them skid.

She breathes deeply grip tightening. The battle had just begun and she knew she was outmatched. Shifting her position she glances up at Gunmar. He sat on his throne overlooking their battle, watching amused. His eye met hers and she stares wondering what he must think of her, of his son before Bular crashes back into her, sending her backwards. Hitting the ground she rolls rocks digging into her skin. Her shirt catches and she hisses as the cloth rips open and slashes her flesh making blood spill. The first blood drawn from battle.

Getting up she stares at Bular. She couldn't get distracted. This wasn't like home, if she lost here she wouldn't get back up again.

Bular stalks towards her grinning as he dragged his two swords. Taunting her as they scratched deep groves into the floor. In the green light of the jagged crystals his eyes glowed and Dawn saw a blood lust she'd never seen before. Ducking behind a rock as he slashed his swords at her she inches around it before she rolls forward going under his legs aiming at his ankles. Making contact she quickly scrambles up also hitting him in the back right above his kilt. Holding her sword waiting for a counter attack the Prince roars. Snarling he turns, swords hitting her with so much force she's slammed into a wall. Making contact she drops her sword, gasping as she grabs her side. He'd gotten her. Twice now. But so had she. They were even. Grimacing in pain eyes wide in fear she stares up at the warlords son.

"Look at you. Tiny and weak human. You thought you could best me? I am the son of Gunmar! I am a conquer! And now for your ignorance you shall fall." He states raising his swords above her head. Eyes darting around Dawn smirks. Kicking him in the grocknuts as hard as she can he roars, dropping his swords and whimpering. She grabs her own weapon before charging. Kicking him backwards again she slashes at his chest causing black blood to spill.

"Miserable human your death will be painful for that!" He threatens as he smacks her away with his arm. Falling back sword clattering as it slips out of her hand once more Dawn groans.

Her breathing is rough as she shakes. Bular picks up his blades and as she kicks back trying to reach her sword his claws dig into her ankle pulling her towards him. He huffs hot air into her face keeping her pinned and she stares at him. He raises a sword but moving her head the blade simply sinks into the ground next to her. He snarls and she snarls back, body burning with pain but brimming with determination. She could not fall.

Smashing her head against his he hisses in pain, stumbling back as she stands. Blood drips into her eye and her ankle burns from the deep cuts but she still stands tall. "I don't intend to lose." She sneers and he growls at her. Tackling her to the ground Dawn grunts but smirks. He'd pushed her closer to her blade.

Smiling Bular stared down at her ready to smash her head in right as her sword pierced his side and went straight through his ribcage. She missed his heart intentionally though she wonders how his face would've looked if he had been beaten by such a "weakling" as herself. Smiling as warm blood dripped onto her hands from the wound she'd inflicted she forced him back before climbing on top of him straddling him. Grabbing his horns and pushing his head down she glares down at him huffing.

"You you you!!!" He roars thrashing but Dawn keeps one hand on the sword threatening to push it all the way through if he didn't listen. The other rested on his horn keeping his head down.

"Yield Bular. You've lost." Dawn snarls. Their battle was intense and she almost fell but Bulars cockiness had been his downfall. Her hair falls onto his face as she breathes deeply staring into his eyes. Bular chuffs growling at her but her hand remained on the hilt of the sword reminding him she could end him if she chose. She'd done it. Bloody but not broken she'd beaten Bular the Butcher.

"MY SON!" Gunmar screeches from his throne ready to charge. Dawn turns holding out her hand that'd been on Bulars horn. The GumGum king paused snorting at her boldness.

"I'll make a deal." Dawn states. "Declare I've won and I'll take off the raven cuffs, I'll heal him, and we never speak of this. And..." She takes a deep breath in blood still dripping from her wounds. "You give me what I desire." Dawn offers. Gunmar chuffs staring at her then Bular. Bular who was covered in blood and beaten by a mere mortal. His son. His legacy. Who was this girl?

There's a long pause where the only sound is Bular and Dawns wheezing breaths. Dawn and Gunmar stare at each other and finally Gunmar chuffs looking away.

"You have won." He growls lowly.

"Father!" Bular snaps before roaring at the movement. The pain from the inflicted wound was unlike anything he'd ever felt. Dawn turns eyes wide as she holds the sword still to keep it from hurting him further.

"Silence! You have lost Bular let the witch work!" Dawn nods and ripping off the cuffs she takes out the sword before placing her hands against the wound. His stone was warm despite being rock something she wasn't expecting. The texture was rough and marred threatening to slit her hands open if she didn't work carefully. Black and red stained her hands their blood mixing together and as her eyesight blurred she prayed that after the battle her magic was strong enough to heal him.

Closing her eyes focusing Bulars breathing and chuffing gets louder as electricity courses through his veins. Dawn feels the wound close under her fingertips slowly and putting more energy into it, more thought the GumGum Prince stares amazed as the rock melts and melds before becoming a small scar against his chest. Almost as if she'd never struck him in the first place.

Dawn pulls back still straddling him and he stares at her. This small human who just put him on the brink of death only to save him. Who was this human? This Dawna Nobel?

"... Can I please get the troll cure and go home now?" She begs falling off the dark prince to lay on the ground besides him. They both lay still after their battle, taking deep breaths in.

~~~

Gunmar held the potion as Dawn smiled. She had a small cut above her eye from headbutting Bular and a gash on her arm and leg from rolling on the ground but she'd done it. She got the cure to save Dictatious. Taking the bottle into her hands Gunmar leaned close.

"Do not let me see you here again." He chuffs. "And do not take this potion lightly. It could destroy my people but I put my trust in you as you've been the only honorable human I have met in some time. You bested my son and for that you will not be underestimated again." Holding the bottle close, feeling the warmth of it's magic through the glass Dawn looks at Gunmar and nods. That was the closet to a compliment she'd ever get from the GumGum King.

"You have my word Gunmar." Smiling she turns facing Killahead before she fades into the shadows disappearing.

Sputtering as she falls into one of the many castle halls, Dawn can't breathe as she lays flat on the carpet. Breathing deeply her hands dig into the lush fabric as her eyes go blurry. Groaning light leaks from a nearby window onto her face and she sees it's sunup, sometime in the early morning. Grunting body burning in pain as she slowly gets up she begins to limp down the hall sweat and blood dripping down her face. But holding the potion close she can't bring herself to care about her pain. Heaving in air, she could feel the night and the toll of magic finally catch up to her. However she couldn't quit rest yet. Clawing at the wall as she continues walking she pulls herself forward cradling her prize close.

~~~

Dawn paused looking around the corner. The guards that were usually stationed for prison duty were gone on shift leave, giving her a window of opportunity. Opening the door that led to the dungeons quietly she sneaks inside to the staircase before closing the door. Staying in the shadows and avoiding the torches she creeps down the stairs careful not to make a sound. Peaking, her head out she sees most of the trolls were resting or trying too. Hacking could be heard and she winces, listening to Dictatious as he continued to cough.

Walking quietly across the stone floor, trolls don't pay her cloaked form any mind. Standing near his cell she holds the mug of tea and potion close. She'd changed her clothes to look more presentable. She'd also slipped into the kitchens when no one was looking to grab a few things. Holding the potion and tea in her hand she pauses outside his cell. She could study the potion Gunmar gifted her, reverse it. Make a weapon and wipe out the GumGums once and for all. Magic would finally be respected. Arthur would respect her. But...

Hearing his loud pained coughs Dawn closes her eyes as she pours the potion into the tea. She sticks the cup through the cell bars allowing Dictatious to take it. The hacking stops and Dawn slowly opens her eyes. Dictatious looks at her untrusting and she frowns her hand with the tea shaking.

"Please it'll help I promise..." She begs him. He blinks before looking at Dawn through the bars that seperated them, all six eyes peering into her soul through the darkness of the dungeon.

"... why?" He asks voice barely above a whisper as he forces it out of his raspy throat. He had gotten worse while she was gone but she believed Gunmar had fulfilled his deal as she had hers. That his sickness would be cured once he drank what she'd fought for and that he'd live just as she had.

"Because this is wrong and I'm sorry. Please..." Dawn continues to offer the cure, cloak hiding her face but Dictatious knew her. She was the King's niece. She was Camelots jewel. She was that girl who would sneak into the woods to learn magic and come down into these dark dungeons to hear the stories he told other trolls to keep their hopes up.

He sniffed the tea, it was a spicy moss blend that Dawn found many trolls enjoyed. The ingredients in the kitchen were slightly different from what trolls used but she hoped it'd appease him. Dictatious and her were by no means close but she wanted to amend that. They'd met in the woods when she was small, he'd helped her home. And once more he'd seen her practicing magic and had gifted her a troll book about ancient spells. She'd hated trolls for months after Gweniveres passing. She'd hated her magic but then she remembered. She remembered her aunts love and kindness. Her passion for the arts and her interest in magic. She would not let Arthur get away with this if she was still alive. But she was dead so it was Dawn's responsibility now.

It helped that Dictatious told stories whenever she came down to explore the dungeons. Although they never directly interacted he showed her not all trolls were evil. Before he got sick he spun tales of his world explaining magic in a way Dawn had never heard before. He was not a beast like Arthur described and she couldn't bear for him to die when he became sick and could no longer tell his stories. She couldn't stand that these trolls were trapped, that so many had died here. But for now all she had to beg for forgiveness was the potion.

"..." Dictatious studies Dawn humming as he looks her over. He takes the cup, his hands touching hers. She smiles and he looks grateful as he takes the warm mug. Looking at the princess with glazy eyes he snorts amused. "You are not like your family. You are different..." Dawn tilts her head but he doesn't add on as he chugs the drink. Once done he hands the cup back before curling into a ball on the dungeons cold floor. Dawn stares at him panicked. Had it been poison? Was he dying? Had she killed him? Had Gunmar lied to her?

"Dic…?" Going to open the cell bars she paused watching his chest slowly rise and fall. Sleeping. The troll was just resting. Sighing and letting out a laugh Dawn falls against the bars exhausted. Chuckling she hugs her knees close. As she looked at Dic slumbering and listened to the rumbling trolls around her, her eyes fluttered. Yes she could use some of that too...

~~~

Dawn feels a hand on her shoulder. She startles awake looking around confused before she remembers visiting Dic in the dungeons. Groaning she isn't sure when she dozed off but apparently she had.

"You stayed?" Turning Dawn takes off her cloaks hood and pauses seeing Dictatious look at her. Smiling she stands, excited the potion worked as he looked much healthier.

"You're up." She states ignoring his previous remark. Studying him he seemed to be in good health despite the terrible circumstances. Dic hums in response reaching his hand through the bars to touch Dawns face. "Are you well?" She asks ignoring as he poked her.

"I am but what of you? What happened to you?" Dawn blushes remembering the bruises and cuts all over her face from the duel. She didn't have the energy to deal with them last night. Letting out a chuckle she shrugs it off.

"Don't worry about it." She responds, muttering a quick spell to heal her injuries. Dictatious watches with wide eyes as the cuts slowly close and the swelling goes down. She still had some light bruising but she looked much better. He had not seen her last night in the darkness of the dungeon but he'd recognized her scent and voice. Plus she was the only human who really came down here other than the Knights.

"You are a very strange human." He states crossing his arms. Chuckling Dawn nods. She was indeed different than her family.

"Can you walk? What about run?" She questions suddenly. Dictatiouses face scrunches as he tilts his head. What was she planning now?

"Yes I feel fine now but why?" He asks. Dawn nods at him before she summons her armor. If she'd fallen asleep against the cells in the morning than it had to be dark now.

"You've been here long enough. All of you. It's time you go home." She states.

"Dawna what are you doing?" Dictatious demands grabbing at her arm but she was already walking away from his cell to the center of the room. Making the torches burn bright, light fills the room showing Dawn. "... You don't know me!" Dawn addresses them and the sound of grating stone can be heard as they turn and shift towards her. Eyes of all shapes and sizes watching the girl speak. "But I believe Trolls aren't evil. And I promise you, neither are humans. I do this because what my uncle Arthur did to all of you was wrong. I do this to show we're not all like him." Dawn fueled by saving Dic holds up her hand and all the cadges glow. Trolls gasp backing away before the locks suddenly click and the doors swing open. They… they were free? "Follow me and I'll lead you home!" Pulling her hood up Dawn runs out of the dungeon towards the castles entrance and the trolls, goblins, stalklings, and gnomes follow. Dictatious pushes past other trolls and rushing out of his now opened cell runs to be in the front right next to her.

"Dawna this could be your title! This could be everything. Your very life! What are you doing?" He demands pulling on her arm but she just smiles, winking at him.

She leads a charge, directing the various creatures through the castle. Bigger creatures pick up smaller or sicker ones to help them keep up. The freed trolls follow behind her trusting the emboldened mage who had saved them. Their thundering footsteps echoing through the castle.

Making it to the front entrance she bursts the door open with her magic, leading everyone out of the castle and through the labyrinth of Camelot cobblestone streets before finally arriving at the gate. Focusing and saying a spell she hoists the iron bars open and they nod at her in thanks before they run.

It was early morning and the sun slowly begins to rise but for now there was enough shade for the night creatures to travel safely. Dawna can hear commotion coming from the castle as knights scurry around trying to find the escaped trolls and missing princess. Laughing as she watches the trolls flee, seeing them return home to the woods her chest flutters in happiness. She'd done it. She'd used magic and she'd freed them.

Feeling a pull Dawn stumbles almost dropping the gate and pausing she turns.

"Lets go." Dictatious states yanking at her hand. She blinks surprised before staring at the troll.

"What?" She asks softly. He pulls again wanting to drag her into the woods with him. With all of them. Some trolls pause on the bridge looking back and waiting for her decision.

"Come with us. Please." Dawn blinks before she stares at Dictatious. Tilting her head she gazes outward, to the woods and their lush forest. With the freshest of fruits and gorgeous flowers. With friends. With Safety. With Magic. With sparring. And Freedom. She'd have freedom. She feels another pull and hesitantly she takes a step back so she doesn't go running away with them.

"My family is here..." She mumbles but she longs to leave with Dictatious. To go to their troll safe haven and explore the troll world. Too read endless books and immerse herself in their culture and magic. Too see what she'd only heard stories about. To become what she could only dream.

"You don't belong with them." Dictatious lightly bumps her head with his before squeezing her cheeks. Dawn is confused but laughing she smiles realising he had just given her the equivalent of a platonic troll kiss. He saw her as kin and he wanted her safe. She didn't belong in Camelot anymore did she? Her home was the wild surrounded by trees and magic not cobblestone and iron. But if she stayed she could help and maybe someday she would ascend to the throne and she could fix things. She could repair the damage done by Arthurs anger and she could rule with Gweniveres love.

The loud clanking of armor gets closer and Dawn hugs Dictatious feeling his rough stone against her before she pushes him to flee. He runs understanding her decision but at the end of the bridge he hesitates sending her a hopeful glance. He waits but Dawn simply bows a last goodbye and he nods taking off into the safety of the woods. Looking up again about to bring the gate back down Dawn pauses.

Gunmar stood at the edge of the woods watching. Tilting her head he nodded slowly at her. He did not trust humans and the Royal Family was at the top of that list but Dawn hoped she had earned his respect. If she ever fell by his hand she hoped it would be a quick merciful death. Something he granted few.

The iron bars slam down as her magic burned out, separating her from the woods and all that lied beyond. Dawn signs looking away. Once again she was trapped.

~~~

Gunmar stood at the woods edge peering into the Humans putrid village. He had come to scout and see if Dawna would keep her word. If the potion she won truly was for a troll or if she was lying and planned to use it against them and slaughter his troops. His single eye widened as the gates opened. He growled ready to tear open her throat but paused as a flood of magical creatures poured out rather than the army he was expecting. He could see trolls of all kinds, stalkings, gnomes, and goblins and amongst them stood an unafraid Dawna. They towered over her and had ten times her strength and yet she didn't fear them. They all left and Dawna was alone. Going to turn and leave he paused. Some trolls remained. A cloaked troll had stayed back and now they were clinging to her. Even from the distance he could see they were small and sickly, barley recovered despite the potion it seemed. The troll pulled at her as the others encouraged her to leave with them. Gunmar snorted enraged at the notion they'd invite her into the woods.

The girl simply nodded no, trying to urge them to leave. A wise decision on her part. The troll looks up and saw he was running out of time, the light was coming and with it his death if he didn't hurry. He leaves but Gunmar watches him hesitate. The trolls look back and Dawn smiles before bowing goodbye. The trolls run to the shelter of the trees and the princess watches them leave. The gate is about to drop before her green eyes lock onto him. Their gaze meets and she slowly nods to him. The gate slams down separating them before he can respond and he hums watching her run off as knights come. Perhaps if things were different. If she was born a troll or even a GumGum in another life they could've been allies. Maybe even friends. He turns feeling saddened that she chose to remain imprisoned when she clearly could be free. What an odd human.

#dawn #dawna the shapeshifting mage #dawna #magic user #original writing #orginal characters #o.c #trollhunters #magic character #toa #wizards #t.o.a

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avengemebuckyy · 4 years

Text

Be Careful

Summary:

You tell Bucky to be careful with your heart. Too late he realizes you should have been careful with his.

or:

You’re awkward,odd, and not the most conventionally attractive yet you’re the only woman that Bucky sees

Warnings: manipulation

Authors note: Back from the dead lmao. This is probably trash but I just needed to force myself to finish something it order to try to get back in the groove! Feedback is more than greatly appreciated, it’s what keeps me writing tbh...

PS. You ain’t shit in this lmao

---

You weren’t the most eye-catching. You didn’t look like the girls Bucky used to chase after in his younger years, or the girls on the internet he’d find himself staring at once he’d discovered Instagram, endlessly scrolling through picture after picture, lost in a sea of beautiful bodies and faces. You didn’t look like the tall slim blonde agent he’d always make a point to hold open the door for, or his neighbor’s daughter in Wakanda, who had had dark skin so smooth and a face so perfect he’d never managed to say more than two words to her.

You were slightly awkward, with a slightly odd sense of humor, always cracking jokes that sometimes no one laughed at but you. But you didn’t care, you would laugh at them all the same. You wore baggy clothes, and not the fashionable baggy kind either. Your favorite outfit was baggy camo print cargo pants and an old grey band t-shirt, logo so faded it was almost impossible to decipher.

At first Bucky didn’t pay you much attention. He wasn’t rude, but he treated you with the same gruff stoicism he treated everyone with. Well everyone besides Sam, Steve, and Natasha. Besides he only saw you rarely, you were a high level agent thanks to your skill, but you didn’t work closely with the team very often. Until you did.

One mission with Clint was all it took to have your name thrust forward when Fury was looking to fill a coordinator position. Suddenly you were everywhere. Coordinating their positions on missions, even going on missions with different members of the team. You fit in well with the team, your corny jokes and generally happy disposition make you easy to like. Your apartment was five minutes away, thanks to Tony, so you would often eat breakfast with the team and stay at the Tower well into the night, often crashing in a room designated for you, also thanks to Tony.

You were like a deceptively shallow river Bucky would think after. One minute he was wading through your shallows, next moment he was being taken under by your currents, realizing too late that he was in deeper than he thought possible.

It started slowly, you would make an effort to make conversation with Bucky, never seeming off put by his non answers. Bucky found himself coming to you with numerous questions on how to work social media, you would give such long winded explanations he wouldn’t have to embarrass himself with asking questions. Soon he found himself seeking you out for more than explanations. Funny thing is you were the one who introduced him to Instagram, to the beautiful women on the app but eventually he found himself unable to see any woman but you.

Bucky found himself sitting with you at lunch, looking out the window in the mornings waiting to catch sight of your army green jacket. He’d sit with you in the afternoons as you did your paperwork, steal glances at you ,your forehead always shiny by midday with an almost ever-present patch of acne, eyebrows scrunched together as you filled out mission reports. He loved those quiet moments the most. Bucky wasn’t good with words, not anymore. But he would help carry the 10 pound boxes of paperwork, always bring an extra pen in case yours ran out of ink, and constantly would bring you your favorite Starbucks order. He secretly hoped that you would read the affection behind his actions.

You didn’t usually go to Stark’s parties, you’d rather go to bars and clubs with your friends.

“The crowd at Stark’s parties just aren’t my crowd,” you’d explained with a shrug, toeing the floor with your scuffed sneakers. Bucky had nodded in understanding. They usually weren’t his crowd either, but he’d always go to support Steve, who was pretty much expected to show face.

But for some reason you show up to this party. Four months into your blossoming friendship (and Bucky’s crush). Bucky wasn’t prepared for what you were wearing. When he heard the agents whispering about your unexpected appearance at the party he half expected to see you in jeans and a t- shirt. Or even your cargo pants. At the sound of your name Bucky zeros into the muttered conversation.

“Did you see her?”

“Yeah, damn.”

“Was not expecting that. Or her to even show up. Who knew?”

“She’s kinda hot, not gonna lie. In a weird way”

Bucky turns his head scanning the crowd, heart rate already picking up, fully expecting to see your sweat-pant clad form. He sees you alright. But not in sweatpants. A red dress barely covers your figure. Hemline way above the halfway mark of your thighs and twin slits in the skirt reaching up to your hips. A draping halter neck ties at your neck and completely exposes your back and gives a generous view of your tits. He catches flashes of the curve of your ass as you walk.

In hindsight the dress was totally in line with your character. You didn’t dress the way you did because you were ashamed of your body but rather because you didn’t give a fuck. Your hair is pinned up, one perfect curl escaping your updo and kissing your neck. Bucky feels his heart stop. He spies numerous heads turning as you languidly weave through the crowd in dangerously thin stilettos. You cozy up to one of your agent friends and the two of you drink, giggle, and dance. Bucky can’t take his eyes off of you.

When you head to the balcony he follows.

“Hey,” you say when you spy his shadow darkening the entrance to the balcony.

“Hey,” he gruffs, in a tone he fears is too quiet. But looking at the curve of your exposed back suddenly has his voice dying in his throat. You turn back to looking at the city skyline. Bucky steps forward next to you. Close. Closer than he’s ever been to you, painfully aware of your arms brushing. He can’t fully feel your skin through the long sleeve button down he’s wearing but the touch sets him on fire all the same.

“Needed some air. “ He eventually grumbles. Trying not to stare at your profile. You look at him then, wearing a sly expression he had never seen on you.

“I’m sure you did,”

After that it doesn’t take long for Bucky to gather up the courage after that. Maybe it’s the way you had looked at him on the balcony or the way both male and female agents were sniffing around you at the party. All the same about a week later Bucky finds himself heading to your office in the afternoon as usual, but this time holding a bouquet of flowers.

Afterwards Bucky falls in love with you hard and fast. He finds himself doting on you, taking you out, bringing you flowers and other tokens of his affection. He hears the whispers, it’s almost impossible not to with his super soldier hearing.

“How’d she’d get him,”

“What an odd couple,”

“The Winter Soldier’s with cargo pants?”

But he still holds your hand in public all the same. Stops in the middle of training recruits to kiss you whenever you happen to cut across the gym all the same. Keeps a picture of you in his wallet all the same.

Bucky has never felt this amount of care and comfort from a person since...ever, even before, in his other life. You put his boots by the heater in the winter when he sleeps over so his feet won’t freeze when he walks to the compound. You listen to him, even when he’s angry, raging at nothing, or when he’s sad and sullen, taking minute long pauses in between sentences. Or even when he wants to do nothing but sit in silence and hold you. You especially listen when his words come fast, tinged with self hatred. You reassure him, holding him like he’s fine china. After many late night musings you give him with the best present he’s ever gotten, an impossibly soft kitten who’s uncharacteristically loud purr always grounds him. Bucky finds himself able to open up with you in a way he can’t with anyone else, even Steve. Bucky’s not good with words anymore, but with you he’s amazing. He can’t stop singing your praises, lavishing you with sweet words and adoration.

In hindsight it was a warning.

“Sweetheart, your wallet must be screamin’ for mercy, with you buying this cake nearly everyday,” Bucky says pinching off a piece of the lemon pound cake which is almost always at the corner of your desk. He recognizes the cake from a bakery across the street, and knows its nearly four dollars a slice. You stretch cracking your back, nipples poking through your shirt. Your ever present band shirt had breathed its last breath, and this new shirt is thinner and cropped, and hugs your body closer.

“Not really, I don’t buy it, Tommy hooks me up” you say, shooting him a smile and then returning back to your paperwork.

“Tommy?” Bucky says, and unbidden hot jealousy sears through his chest at the mention of your coworker “He’s always buying you these?”

“Yeah,” you answer, not looking up, and Bucky tells himself to remain calm, unbothered.

He doesn’t.

Later after the subsequent fight and make up Bucky holds you as the two of you sit on his bed.

“I’m sorry,” He says again.

“It’s alright,” you say and somehow your simple words draw the truth out of him.

“I’m just...I- I’m afraid of losing you.”

“I’m afraid of losing you too,” you confess, then pause “Bucky, please be careful with me,”

Your relationship was easy, comforting. The two of you almost never fought, and never grew tired of being with each other. One blissful year turned into two and then five. It was like a dream and Bucky never wanted to wake up.

But reality eventually did.

How closely you guarded your phone should have tipped him off. How you’d constantly declined calls while the two of you were together. The way you almost always got ‘too drunk’ on girls night and would end up crashing at your friend’s place.

The first time it’s sixth months into your relationship on a lazy Saturday. The two of you had ordered pizza and planned to cuddle on the couch and have a movie marathon. You were in the bathroom when your phone had vibrated. Knowing that you would get a notification when the pizza arrived Bucky had looked at your phone. Bucky had felt surprised to see the name Dominos instead of an unsaved number pop up on your screen. Your phone didn’t show the preview of the text like his did. Your phone was still unlocked since you had headed to the bathroom but a few seconds ago, so Bucky tapped to open the text.

Dominos: [Can’t wait to see you again, beautiful]

Bucky’s blood had run cold. He froze, only unfreezing when he realized you were standing next to him.

“We aren’t exclusive!” you had defended.

“What the hell do you mean?” Bucky had growled. At that your face had crumbled, eyes filling with tears.

“You never asked me to be your girl.” you had looked away “We never talked about what we are,”

“Whaddya think we’ve been doing these past months?!” Bucky had yelled back,

“ I don't know. I don’t assume Bucky. Because guys always seem to want to date me, treat me like their girlfriend and then turn around and throw it in my face that they never said I was.” your voice breaks and so does Bucky's anger. He hadn’t been very verbal with you so far. It’s true he never asked you to be his girl, or even verbally on a date. He just thought you both knew. Guilt fills him at the sight of your tear stained face.

“I’m sorry I was just preparing for the inevitable,” you say and turn away. Bucky grabs your arm and pulls you towards him.

“Well, let me make it clear. I want you to be my girl. I want you to be mine and mine alone.”

Your expression is unfathomable as you wind your arms around his neck.

“I am yours.”

That night you stand in front of Bucky and wordlessly slip out of your sweatpants and t shirt, rendering him speechless. With reverence Bucky’s hands trace your frame and his mouth follows. That night he worships you.

Later, you wrap your arms around him and whisper

“I love you,”

And Bucky knows that he’s done for.

“I love you too sweetheart.” he says, and later still when you’ve fallen asleep Bucky lies awake, stroking the soft contours of your back. He’s done for. And he knows it.

“I’ll be careful,” he whispers.

Reality had tried to wake Bucky gently. Through warning signs that should have been loud and clear especially to an ex assassin. But Bucky had accepted your half baked truths and excuses. He was too far gone off of the drug that was your love to heed the warning signs until reality slapped him- no choked him, awake.

His awakening came in the form of the sight of you on your kitchen counter, a man kneeling in between your spread thighs. The flowers he had bought you on his way back from his mission that had ended early drop to the floor. Bucky freezes. But at the sight of Tommy’s face, cheeks slick with you he loses it. Next thing he realizes that he has his hands around your coworkers throat. But your hand on his shoulder drains the fight out of him, and as Tommy scrambles out of the apartment Bucky crumples to the floor and sobs.

“Why?” He asks and he realizes he’s not just asking about now, but about all the times he’s caught you cheating but didn’t have the strength to leave you.

“Baby” you say and gather him into your arms. He wants to pull away, thrash, yell, but he doesn’t. He just melts into your touch. You make him weak. And at night when he thinks about your excuses and half truths he hates himself for it.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” he says, sobs wracking his frame “Five years-did they mean nothing to you?”

“I’m sorry,” you say “I love you,”

At this Bucky pulls away, standing. “Don’t fucking lie to me.” he hisses.

“I’m not,” you say standing “I might lie all the time but I’m not lying about this.” your eyes go soft at the corners, and start to water.

“No. I love you. I adore you. I’d give you anything-everything and you treat me like shit” Bucky spits, there’s a pain in his chest, his heart is breaking “And I just fucking take it, because you make me so fucking weak- and I hate it” another sob ribs from his chest. A part of him thinks that this is his punishment. For all of the terrible things he’s done. Cursed to be in love with someone who will never truly love him back. He looks at you, your hair is in disarray, baggy t shirt, those fucking cargo pants around your ankles. He gives a bitter laugh “Who woulda thought that you would’ve been the one to make me weak.”

“Why? Because I’m not pretty?” hurt flashes across your face then your eyes go hard. Usually Bucky would have been quick to refute any self deprecating words, reassuring you how beautiful he found you, how gorgeous you were. But now he just lifts his chin and looks back at you with the same hard eyes.

“Well I know I’m not pretty.” you shrug, face going strangely expressionless “But you still fell for me all the same. More fool you.” you say, and after a moment continue. “We should break up.”

At this Bucky shatters. Because he knows deep down that even after all of this he still would have taken you back. He still wants to grovel at your feet and plead to try to fix your relationship. But instead he decides to finally choose himself and turns and walks out of the door and out of your life.

Year later he still finds himself looking at your picture in his wallet, the one remnant of you he has left, that he can’t bear to get rid of. On lonely nights where he can’t sleep and can’t stand the coldness of his bed he’ll trace the curve of your smile and wish that you had cared enough to have been careful with him.

Tags:@stephie-senpai@ayeputita@pixierox101@iamwarrenspeace@ dreamgirljere @ufffg@pietrotheavenger @trinityjadec@abbytagg@wastedsummerss@turdblossommm@jimmyisfab@sev7en@hottrashformarvel @superbuckytrash@waidewilson@abbytagg @awkwardfangirl2014 @desir-ae

Bucky only @chamongangae@callmebucky-doll

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #Bucky Barnes #marvel angst #marvel reader insert #marvel imagine #bucky x reader

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iiasha-archived · 4 years

Note

So, I recently was binge-re-watching Avatar and was wondering how you'd place the SVT members in terms of benders plus non-benders. Vernon really seems like a water bender to me because he's so chill but that also makes me think he'd be Gucci as a non-bender. But Jun as air and Minghao as fire?

AHHHHH omg this is SUCH a good question and i hope you’re ready for the whole ass analysis under the readmore bc i have many Thoughts on the subject 😂 honestly though arguments could be made for any, since i think they all have traits that could fit in with multiple elements!! but anyways longass rambling ahead lmao ❤️

seungcheol

definitely a firebender in my mind, no questions asked, but i could also see the argument for earth

this kind of comes out of his character of being such a great leader

on one hand he has such a passionate and ambitious personality, which is the main reason why i see him as a firebender

especially on stage you can really feel his energy explode

his loyalty also runs soooo deep and one of the things i really admire about him is the lengths he’ll go through to do what’s best for his members. he really does take care of them

so on the other hand, that’s why i also see the argument for earth!

again making him such a great leader, he has a lot of patience and stability

it’s clear that he’s a rock that the others can rely on during turbulent times, and that steadiness is definitely a trait i associate with earthbenders

but overall i think his own personal aspirations and drive make him more suited as a firebender

jeonghan

waterbender! there is a trait that water benders are versatile and adaptable to situations, which i can DEFINITELY see with jeonghan

i mean obviously we speak loads of his cleverness (cheating) and how good he is at speaking out of his ass on the fly

at the same time though i also kind of see him as a flowing river

as in he’ll flow and move in any direction he wants, and is definitely open to change if he is willing to

but god if you try to force that change out of him he is absolutely immovable; he can also be pretty stubborn and relentless sometimes!

and also with rivers how there’s always a destination for it; jeonghan is completely not afraid to do whatever it takes to achieves his goals, which to me is a lot like a river steadily rushing on towards the ocean

even if there are obstacles he’ll do whatever it takes to overcome them (even if it means cheating lmao)

at the end of the day though he’s definitely a healing presence for other members, considering how much they confide in him, which is another property i associate with water

joshua

now with joshua i’m not entirely sure. i could definitely see him as an earthbender or nonbender

my rationale for earthbender is that he’s just very... grounded

while of course he can be really goofy and playful at times, i think in general he’s very down to earth

like in interviews and stuff he obviously isn’t the one always reaching for the microphone

and his answers are honestly pretty standard most of the time, i haven’t really seen him try to answer in an outrageous way, especially compared to someone like, say, hoshi lmao

even in going seventeen he seems more content to literally just sit back and enjoy the show, only speaking up when he really feels like it

he just gives off super reliable vibes as well; i mean that’s probably half the reason why he got that gentleman nickname lmao

it’s also this difficulty of pinning an element to him that i could see him as a non-bender???

i’m not really sure what traits drive home for a non-bender but that’s just my gut feeling lmao. if he was an earthbender he’d be an incredibly chill one

jun

ahhhhh my boy is definitely an airbender!!

i keep thinking back to that interview where the members were asked something along the lines of whether they had worries or something? i can’t remember the exact wording

and like jun (and maybe vernon?) said no and the others were like “that’s just because he forgets” lmao

he is suuuuch a go with the flow type of dude, and his playful nature really plays in well with the aspect of freedom that’s tightly associated with the element of air

another reason i kind of associate him with airbending comes from the show itself, namely aang’s own personality and how much aang would stand his ground to defend his own beliefs and morals

i always come back to jun’s selfless attitude in cyzj when he had to perform without yanan, specifically the stage where he performed with two microphones to represent that he was still thinking of yanan in that moment

like even if he seems all over the place at times, when it comes down to it he’s really going to do what he believes is right, and can be incredibly stubborn about it too

but at the end of the day jun is a lover not a fighter and just wants everyone to have a good time and god i fucking love him for that

hoshi

what else could our resident tiger be but a firebender

again, the main thing i associate with firebending is high energy and passion and BOY DOES HOSHI DELIVER

but his outrageous outbursts aside i also think there’s a lot to be said of his work ethic that i think really fits into firebending

from the show there is a lot of discipline and hard work that comes with firebending, as fire is often seen as difficult to control

while all the members are obviously hardworking, a lot of them have pointed to him and woozi being the hardest working of them all

hoshi is definitely the kind of dude that throws himself into his work with everything he’s got

and of course the fact that it’s what he loves only helps push that drive and determination even further

i also often think of how hoshi mentions he basically feels possessed when he’s dancing/on stage lmao

but i think that can be attributed to the overwhelming passion he has for the art; it consumes him like an overwhelming flame

wonwoo

for me wonwoo definitely feels like a waterbender

again with the idea of water being adaptable, wonwoo is really good at adjusting to the energies of the others even if he’s not naturally super outspoken himself

he can easily go from low to high just like the tides (haha get it), and if the other members are being super excitable it’s very easy for him to join in on the fun

but on the flipside he also has the capabilities of just completely shutting them down lmao kind of like how he cuts people off in debate night

not to bring astrology into this but he’s also the one helping bring some water into this air-dominated group lmao

so yes, versatile, adaptable, but also really good at literally dousing out the flame when needed

if jeonghan was a river i see wonwoo more as a vast like, in that even if he’s somewhat quiet on the surface there is so much more going on underneath

there’s just something very tranquil about his energies that i think make him very suitable for waterbending

woozi

honestly woozi is another one that’s hard for me to place, but i’m going to go with firebending on this one, although i can also see earthbending

i know i’m sort of sticking to the same traits for these lmao, but woozi is kind of that perfect combination of being super well grounded and stable vs just sooo so passionate about his work

he’s always throwing himself into his music like never has anybody questioned his absolute passion and determination for it

as such it sort of makes me lean towards him being a firebender, but a more like... aloof one i guess??

kind of like uncle iroh, except instead of tea it’s music lmao

and if you hurt the people he cares about it’s going to get SERIOUS because how DARE you

but that sort of distance is also sort of why i see more earthbending traits in him; he’s more comfortable with sticking with what he’s used to, and isn’t as inclined as others to go outside his comfort zone

and why he facepalms so much when the other members do stupid shit lmao

seokmin

seokmin i actually have no idea

if i had to pick an element i’d say either water or air, but somehow neither of those completely fit either. so maybe even a nonbender???

like for water, i see it through his kind and healing soul and heavily relate that to the healing properties of water

he’s also just so expressive, which honestly to me can be represented in the many different forms of water there are

like he wears his heart and emotions on his sleeve, and i feel like that is something that could be reflected in waterbending

for air, i see it through his playful and joyful personality and the childlike innocence he embodies, like a playful breeze on a warm sunny day

like jun he’s completely a lover not a fighter, and if he had bending it’d be more about mediation than confrontation

but at the end of the day i think he’s more grounded by his emotions which is why i feel slightly more inclined towards waterbending, but honestly it’s still pretty 50/50

he’s also one of the members i can definitely see being a nonbender; i don’t have anything to back this up but it’s kind of just a gut feeling lmao

mingyu

interestingly enough i kind of see both firebending and waterbending for him, and kind of like seokmin i’m very 50/50 on the two

for firebending i actually literally associate him with fire, and my nickname for him is also spicy red hot chili pepper lmao

i also see fire with him because almost everything he does is done with extreme eagerness and curiosity

for me he almost encapsulates the tantalizing allure of playing with fire, and how he wants to try his hand at experiencing many different things as quickly as fire spreads from one interest to the next

for waterbending though it’s kind of for the exact same reason

i keep preaching about the versatility and adaptability of water, and what better aspect to associate with mingyu’s continuous curiosity for trying new things?

so it’s a mix of the two due to the passionate determination behind his desire to literally get his hands on everything

and there is no end goal, it is just an all consuming fire that is hungry for more until there is none left

minghao

okay i see minghao as a firebender as well and also this is a slight nod to the minghao = zuko agend LMAO

but kind of in the same vein where iroh/zuko used elements of waterbending in their firebending, i think minghao would also have a lot of the more fluid waterbending techniques in his firebending

like where traditional firebending is perhaps more of a hard, fighting style, minghao gives me a much more fluid vibe

this also comes out of his artistic style with contemporary dance and abstract art, and his passions with developing it

i’m not totally sure how to explain this but to me his artistic expression has a lot of fluid movement in it in which the driving force isn’t the necessarily the user/artist (minghao) but more about where those energies want to go themselves

compared to hoshi where i said the fire consumes him (in a good way), minghao’s fire is more directed at releasing the energy where it needs to be released and not forcing it

i think that’s also why minghao finds a lot of stress release in drawing and art

so still very passionate, very hot, but fluid, like a dancing flame

seungkwan

seungkwan i see mainly as an earthbender but maybe with some fire as well!

a lot of this comes with just how extremely disciplined he is with pretty much everything

even if he is extremely witty and incredibly funny on variety shows i think a lot of it comes out of him just being extremely socially aware, or like aware of his surroundings if that makes sense??

one of the key elements of earthbending is sort of taking in the environment around you and waiting for the right moment to strike

and for seungkwan i think he just has so much natural wit and knowledge that he is able to always come up with the right thing to say at the right time

but i also see some firebending in him because he also gets easily frustrated lmao

like how he gets so easily flustered when he does say the wrong thing at the wrong time and it doesn’t get the reaction he wants

he wears his heart and emotions on his sleeve a lot like dk but tends to also act on them, which to me is aspects of firebending shining through

vernon

personally for vernon i very much see air bending!

again a huge association i have with air is also the element of freedom, and kind of literally doing whatever you want, which i think suits vernon SO well

we always talk about how he’s just simply vibin’/off in his own world and for me there is no element more suitable for that then airbending

he has the kind of energy where everyone else is forced to go at his own pace; you can’t really force it

to throw another pun in here it’s literally like trying to fight the wind: completely useless

but it’s not necessarily met with resistance; vernon has his own ideas but he’s definitely extremely open minded to others and could be swayed given a good discussion

like while jeonghan also goes at his own pace, it’s often feels like it’s towards some directed goal, again like a flowing river. but with vernon, i feel like he’s literally just kind of doing whatever, in the same way that the wind never has a destination or specific course

it’s more about exploring the possibilities and just straight up enjoying life

dino

dino is definitely a boy of the earth for me hahaha

while he is definitely just as passionate about things as his other members, his energy comes off more of a really steady and powerful determination

there’s this sort of strength and endurance with dino that for me makes him extremely suitable for earthbending

like i think a large part of it comes from the fact that he has very clear goals and a steady mindset way of achieving them

like if he says he’s gonna do something then he’s going to do it, and also the way he always stands his ground when it comes to confrontation

he’s the guy who’s gonna absolutely speak his mind but at the same time be really open minded to other opinions

like he obviously gets teased a lot as the maknae but he takes it all in good stride and then throws it back with just as much force you know lmao although maybe not as much in recent episodes where woozi has just completely obliterated him with the razor

#seventeen #svt #asks #anon #omg this took way longer than i thought lmao but ty this was fun!!!#i did not proofread this i finished the last member and hit publish #if you guys have any other opinions/thoughts plss let me know i'd love to discuss this stuff #if the readmore broke im so sorry yall 😩😩😩#atla #m:writing

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exo-can · 3 years

Text

Growing Pains: Send My Love (To Your New Lover)

A collection inspired by Adele’s album 25

A/N: Sooo, it’s been a while lmao.

Please note that this is part of a series, although this chapter has enough in it that you can infer what is going on so it can be read by itself.

Previous Chapters:

When We Were Young (Smut)

I Miss You (semi-smut)

River Lea(Smut)

Warnings: Smut (like a lot yo. Probably the filthiest thing i’ve written ok.) , cursing, choking, hairpulling, Yoongi is not happy about your confession but has emotional constipation so chooses to take it out in ~other~ ways

Sunlight casts it’s warm glow over you, body growing hot under the mountain of blankets you'd haphazardly thrown over yourself late last night. You don’t move though, letting the rays of light burn against your eyelids as you bask in the afterglow of sleep. That is, until you felt the slickness of sweat in the crevices of your form. Sighing lightly, you shift on the couch and feel the heaviness begin to fade from your limbs as stiffness takes its place. The apartment is quiet, the city too. That magical sunday haze always makes it seem like the world is running at half-pace, if only for a few hours in the morning. Slowly, you crack your eyes open just enough to catch a glimpse of the clock hanging on the wall above your tv. 11:14… you note silently. Woojin must have left for work without waking me.

And just like that, your calm morning is gone, spirited away by a fresh wave of emotions that you can no longer chalk up as only guilt. A second sigh escapes you, though this one was much heavier than the first. Pushing the blankets away from your body, you sit upright on the couch. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you straighten the crumpled outfit which you’d never bothered to change out of last night. Spotting your phone on the coffee table, you pick it up with a yawn and tap the screen to life. A couple emails, some notifications from various social media platforms and one text that makes a soft smile curl your lips upward without your knowledge.

Yoongi 4:38am

Did you get back okay? You could've stayed you know.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It's me." the words had sounded timid as they'd left your mouth, even by your own ears.

“I know.” He didn't sound surprised, which irked you. You knew what he said on the roof, but a part of you still worried that this was a game to him. A game in which he knew he was currently holding the winning hand. “Caller I.D."

“Right.” A faint heat bloomed on your cheeks as the elevator doors gave a soft ‘ding’ and opened to the apartment buildings lobby. Plopping yourself down on one of the plush leather chairs, you fiddled anxiously with the sleeve of your oversized jacket. A dim crackle of radio silence echoed across the speaker, not quite sure what to say now that you’d actually dialed his number. You tried though, a feeble “I-” making it’s way up from your vocal cords before the line went quiet again.

Thankfully, Yoongi was the first to break the tension. “Do you want to come by? I would’ve offered at Luna’s but…”

“No, I’m glad you didn’t. I’d rather not broadcast what we’re up to to them.” You answered honestly. It wasn’t that you didn’t love and trust your friends. It was just that it was much harder to explain what you were doing when you yourself didn’t even really know. “But yeah, I would… if that’s okay.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want you to, Y/N.” Yoongi reassured you, making your insides twirl. “I can come and get you. You still at Luna’s building?”

“I am, but that’s alright. You’re already at home.”

“It’s not far.” He insisted. “I don’t mind. Besides, this way you don’t have to wait for a cab.”

You bit your lip, and responded. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I am.” A rustle could be heard on the other end, which you could safely assume came from his pushing his arms into his jacket. “I’ll be there in ten. Wait for me in the lobby, okay? It’s cold out.”

This made you giggle. Thoughtful and protective as ever. “Yoongi, it’s July.”

“I know but,” he replied with a sigh and you wondered if he was making that cute exasperated face that he used to make whenever you teased him, “just humor me, okay?”

“Okay.” You said, the remnants of laughter still present in your voice. “See you soon?”

He hummed in agreement before adding, “I’ll text you once i’m there.”

“Alright, bye.”

“Bye.”

The line went dead and immediately you began to fidget, nerves beginning to set in. In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect when you went over there. There wasn’t time on the roof to discuss the details of what this arrangement would entail. Everything with Yoongi was grey, reminding you of how your relationship had started back in college. He never was big on discussing this type of stuff, you remarked silently. Yoongi was and always had been a man of action, not words. Words he saved for music. Once upon a time, you had found this incredibly frustrating. Now however, you were grateful that you could explore your rekindled relationship, whatever it may be, without the pressure of definition. Perhaps it was time that made the craving for clarity you had when you were younger wane. Or perhaps it was the fact that diving deep and defining what this was, meant you’d have to face the demons residing in your head. Whichever, you knew that there was one thing you’d have to lay out on the table for both of your sakes. As much as the thought of doing so made your heart clench and your gut churn with dread.

The screen of your phone lit up suddenly, a new text flashing up on the lock screen which read:

Here. Black car right in front of the doors.

Gathering yourself up from the couch, you took a soothing breath before stepping out of the building. Sure enough, a black car sat parked directly in front of the doors which gently clicked shut once you’d let go of the metal. Seeing the car, it was suddenly that much clearer to you that Yoongi really had worked hard in the time you’d been apart. As college kids, neither of you had driven, the cost of having a car in the city being too much for either of you to justify. Now however, it seemed Yoongi didn’t have a need to pinch pennies like he used to. The black car parked in front of you acting only as evidence of this fact. It was nothing obnoxious, but you could tell that the car had cost a fair amount more than your used Honda. Steeling yourself, you grasped the sleek handle on the door and climbed inside.

Settling as gracefully as possible into the luxurious leather seat, you sneaked a glance at Yoongi. A pang of guilt washed over you, realizing he had already changed into sweats and a simple white t-shirt before you’d called. You let a frown turn the corners of your lips downward. “Thank you for picking me up.”

A small chuckled emanating from his chest made you look up from his clothes. His face was encased in the blue glow of the lights from the dash of the car. His hair was slightly tousled, blonde tufts just long enough to sweep over his eyebrows. A teasing smirk played at the edges of his mouth while his dark eyes regarded you.

“What?” You fought the urge to squirm under his gaze.

“It’s been years and you still haven’t learned to just let people do things for you, huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you gently pushed at the hand that was draped over the gear shift. “I just don’t like being a bother.”

“You never are.” His blunt response made you blush, your gaze travelling down to your lap where your fingers toyed with one another.

There was no need to look up at him, you knew he had a pleased expression on his face. Playing with you had always been one of his favourite things to do, if only because of the color it brought to your cheeks. Shifting the car into drive, he pulled away from the curb.

Both of you fell silent as Yoongi drove, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Lingering familiarity with one another eased the tension alongside your earlier banter. Turning your eyes toward the streets that passed you by, you wondered what his place was like. Did it measure up to the car? Your mind attempted to conjure up an image of what type of place you pictured Yoongi living in. However, everytime you tried to picture him living somewhere posh and luxurious, like the car, you couldn’t. The Yoongi you’d once known liked urban places. Area’s full of little nooks and crannies hiding the best of what the city could offer by the people who were its life blood. Hell, you couldn’t even count the number of times he’d led you through obscure alleyways and because ‘I swear, it’s the best in town’. And frankly, he’d always been right. Though that never stopped you from teasing him, calling him a hipster and laughing when he rolled his eyes. You didn’t even realize you were sporting a small smile while recalling all old memories until you felt it drop.

It really hadn’t been far, just as Yoongi had assured you. The car ride only lasted about 15 minutes before he was turning a corner to come before tall wrought-iron gates enclosing an area that was towered over by a few highrises. It was then that you realized that the car really did match the house as Yoongi unrolled his window and gave an amical wave to the man sitting in a small booth just on the other side of the iron bars. The man gave him a friendly grin before opening the gate for Yoongi’s car to pass through. Rolling his window back up, you sidled up to the passenger door, gawking at the height of the buildings before you. Yoongi’s fingers drummed against the head of the gear shifter as he pulled into a parking garage. As he drove to his space, you couldn’t help but notice that all the cars you passed were on the same caliber, or higher, as his own. Reaching his own parking spot, the car came to a stop and you unbuckled your seatbelt. Stepping out of the car, Yoongi locked the doors and motioned for you to follow him.

All the way up to the apartment, you had the distinct feeling that he was watching you and the feeling only heightened once you were inside. You did your best to school your features, not wanting to come off as rude, but you couldn’t help your eyes from widening as you took in his place. From the entryway, you could see into his kitchen and lounge. Both were impressive. The kitchen was decked out with white cabinets and marble countertops while the living room was big enough that you were positive it could house the entirety of your small shared apartment. But the real thing that caught your eye was the view.

Floor to ceiling windows made up the wall to the outside world and with the height you were at, you could see nearly the whole city. Lights twinkled in the distance as you let out a breathless, “Wow.”

“You like it?” Yoongi asked, his eyes still hovering over your frame as you slipped your shoes off to move closer to the windows.

“It’s beautiful.” You replied honestly, your gaze raking over the city. Eyes drifting down, you could barely make out the man sitting in his booth at the gate. Dimly, you noticed no one milled about the street down below, this area’s inhabitants much more used to staying within their pretty walls. You really had been honest; this place was beautiful materialistically, but something about it just seemed a little cold to you. There was no hustle and bustle here. It almost felt detached from the city. It wasn’t that you didn’t understand the appeal of being removed from the loud streets and neon signs, it was just so far from what you had known Yoongi to love when he was younger. These thoughts raced in your mind and before you could think better of it, you slipped, “but-”

“But?” Yoongi had padded across the hardwood floors to you while you were in thought, handing you a glass of water that you hadn’t even heard him get.

Quickly, you arranged your features into a warm grin, muttering a ‘thanks’ and taking a sip from the glass before speaking again, “I just always pictured you living somewhere more… lively.”

Insecurity flashed across his face so briefly, you wondered if it really had been there at all as he rearranged his expression into the indifferent look you were well acquainted with. A hand came up to scratch the back of his head as he replied, “yeah, I guess it is a bit… much, isn’t it?”

“No, Yoongi.” You rushed to say, worried you’d hurt his feelings. “It’s just a surprise is all. I knew you worked hard since we graduated, I just didn’t realize how hard.”

This seemed to appease him, but you could tell that he knew you were trying to make him feel better from the slight downturn of his mouth. Nodding, he motioned to the white couch in the living room. Relief flooded your veins at the realization that he was as content to drop the subject as you were when he said, “sit with me?”

Nodding, you padded your way across the hardwood floors to the couch, settling down in the middle. Yoongi followed, plopping down onto your right, leaving you to immediately question your decision making skills as the scent of his cologne engulfed you in the close proximity. A pale arm came to rest on the back of the couch as he wedged himself into the corner, legs spreading comfortably. A knee knocked yours and you forced yourself not to gasp at the contact. Slim fingers drummed the cushion, close enough to you that you were sure your hair was grazing the tips each time he lifted them. A jolt of desire churned in your stomach, unable to quell the images of where else those fingers had touched not weeks prior.

“So, what about you?” Yoongi’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“What about me?” You replied, trying to hide your blush as you took a sip of water, willing the liquid to kill the flames inside you before placing it on the coffee table in front of you. After all, you had no idea what to expect from tonight. You had no idea what Yoongi, or even you, expected from this causal relationship. Though your body certainly seemed to know what you wanted.

“What are you doing now?” He said. “I just realized that I never really asked. Did you apply at that newspaper after college?”

You hid the wince at the mention of that particular venture. “Um, I did, yeah.”

“And you got it? That’s great, Y/N-”

“Oh, no, I didn’t get the job.” You responded quickly, suddenly finding the spacious room more than a little stifling.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay!” You plastered a bright practiced grin on your face and looked up at him, the same grin you’d given all of your relatives when they asked the same thing. Not wanting to make it more awkward, you blurted, “I actually got a job at a gardening magazine. It’s proofreading but the hours are great and the pay is pretty decent too.”

“Well, that’s great— wait,” He paused, a look of confusion passed over his face and your stomach dropped. You should’ve known better than to say anything to him of all people. “Proofreading? I thought you hated doing that.”

A melancholy chuckle left your lips. “I did, but honestly it’s not so bad. I could do worse.”

He hummed, not in agreement but acknowledgement and the fact that you could hear the difference irked you. “Are you gonna stay there for a while?”

It felt as though a crack had split your smile and Yoongi was peering into it. Were you really still so easy for him to read? It wasn’t fair, not when you felt like you were constantly chasing a shadow. The remains of the smile slipped from your lips and you considered his question. You shifted as you contemplated, your knee now leaning against his fully while your body twisted so you could face him more. Fingers brushed against your shoulder as you spoke softly. “Honestly? I don’t know anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

“I just—” you sighed, your brows furrowing together unable to help the way Yoongi seemed to pull the truth from you in any situation, “when I started there, I told myself it was only temporary. But as time went on, I guess I just started to get comfortable, y’know? And now, I don’t know, it’s hard to just up and leave something without guarantee that it’ll work out. So I stayed.”

He leaned forward slightly, almost making you jump when the pads of his fingers found the nape of your neck and kneaded the skin softly. It was casual; he only needed to move a few inches to reach your skin, his arm still resting nonchalantly over the back of the couch. If you were anyone else, you wouldn’t have really thought it was anything besides a comforting gesture. But you weren’t just anybody. The action made your mind sift through countless memories in which he’d done the same. Once he’d found out the action was something you found comforting years ago, it had become a sort of habit for him. You didn’t know if he had meant to do it or if it was only natural after having dated all through college, but the gesture instantly had you feeling more at ease. However, the touch still made your breath catch.

Hearing the stutter in your breathing, Yoongi hesitated. His fingers came to a stop and made to pull away as he muttered, “Sorry, I should’ve asked if it was okay before I—”

“Wait,” before you could think anything of it, your fingers curled around his forearm to halt him in his retreat, “it’s okay.”

It wasn’t actually, but with the way tension you hadn’t even known you’d been clutching on to had begun to seep from your limbs at his ministrations, you couldn’t muster the energy to deny yourself a reprieve.

A faint smile wormed its way onto his lips as your head tilted so that the skin of your cheek rested on his arm. In a voice so small you were sure he hadn’t meant for you to hear, you heard a barely there ‘cute’ just as his fingers resumed drawing shapes into your skin. Not wanting him to catch on that you’d heard, you drew your thanks into the skin of his arm, your own fingers mirroring the movements of his on your neck. With each shape drawn, Woojin grew more and more distant in your mind. Your resolve to confess grew weaker with every stroke while the butterflies in your stomach roared, finding the will to ruin this moment dismal.

“So,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over you two, “is this your move now?”

His head quirked and an eyebrow raised. “My move?”

“Yeah,” there was a teasing tone in your voice. “Instead of food stalls and diners you bring the girls up here to woo em’?”

A raspy chuckle shook his shoulders, a sly smirk stretching his lips. “Honestly, I haven’t had any of this long enough to try it. Why, is it working?”

“Meh,” you acted indifferent, shrugging your shoulders playfully and jiggling the arm that was half slung around you. “I prefer to be wined and dined.”

“I’d hardly call plastic stools, soju, and chicken ‘wined and dined.’”

“Hey,” you pouted, raising your head from his arm. “I’ll have you know I loved those stupid plastic chairs.”

“Don’t I know it.” He snorted. “You almost ripped my head off when you found out I went with Jin without you that one time.”

He wasn’t lying. You really almost did. “Well, yeah, but that’s because I always thought of it as our ‘place.’”

An amused look crossed his features. “Our ‘place?’”

“Yeah, y’know,” heat flared in your cheeks, absentmindedly squeezing his forearm out of embarrassment and mumbling, “like couples those in movies and shit have a ‘place.’ I thought of that as ours.”

“You thought of a street food stall as our ‘place’?” The mirth in his voice did not escape your ears.

“I mean, not just one. More like the street.” You replied sheepishly, earning you a genuine gummy laugh. The grips you had on each other loosened as his body rocked forward, his free hand landing on your thigh as his frame shook. Your heart did a somersault in your chest as the distance between you diminished. His laughter earned him a slap on the chest as your bottom lip jutted out. “Don’t laugh.”

“Sorry, it’s just, there?” His laughter died out, his hand on the back of the chair coming up to carry the weight of his head as he rested on it, your hair fluttering against his bicep. “Of all places?”

“Well, excuse me Mr. High-and-mighty. You have somewhere better you’re thinking of?”

“Your old apartment.” His answer was immediate.

“My apartment?” You questioned.

“Yeah,” he replied, a fondness glazing over his eyes as he looked down at you. “We had a lot of important moments in that place.”

Like watching a movie, memories flashed in your mind. Good, bad, and somewhere in between; all sorts of things happened in the confines of those walls. Some you wished you could forget. Some that you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. It was only now that you realized just how close the two of you had gotten while you talked. His thumb rubbed at the skin just above your knee and he had drawn one leg of his own up onto the couch, folding it under himself so his shin pressed against the length of your thigh. The white shirt he wore billowed against your arm and upon looking at his face, you realized that if you leaned in just the littlest bit more, you would be able to stretch your neck up so your lips would meet. Looking at him, you finally saw behind his carefully constructed walls. The tender look on his face as his ink coloured irises gazed down at you told you that it wasn’t just you who treasured those memories. Eyes flicked from yours down to your mouth and you could feel his body coaxing you to just bridge the gap. Squirming under his gaze, your eyes dropped to your lap.

“I lived there,” you said with a shaky voice. “Doesn’t count as a place.”

An amused puff of air escaped him, fanning across your cheek down to your collarbone. Minty.

“So, is this how you get the guys now?” You couldn’t help but peer back up at him at the question. The hand that was on your leg rose to grip your chin, his thumb giving your bottom lip a featherlight stroke. A surge of heat rocketed through you at the contact. “By being a sore loser and pouting when they prove you wrong?”

This time, you chuckled, repeating his earlier words, “why, is it working?”

“Yes.” He admitted instantly, your legs pressing together in response. His hand holding you in his grip, dark eyes drifted down to where his thumb sat just below the ridge of your bottom lip. Your own eyes dropped too, watching raptly as his mouth came closer and closer to your own. The air felt heavy, your hands coming up to fist his shirt as your tongue snaked out to wet your lips, catching the salty tip of his thumb. Letting your eyes drift back up, you saw that his irises had become darker, his lids drooping slightly and exuding lust. He was going to kiss you and god, did you want him to. But as soon as you felt the slightest brush of his lips against yours, the face of your boyfriend popped into your mind. Jerking, you pushed him just far enough away that you could drop your head in shame.

“Yoongi, wait.” You fought the trembling in your voice. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Ever-respectful, Yoongi immediately released you. His hand fell into his lap, your skin instantly mourning the loss as he leaned back away from you. Studying his face, you could feel your heartbeat quicken and your palms growing clammy. He watched as you tried to summon your courage, the only sign that he was worried being the way his brows scrunched to make the faintest ripple in the skin of his forehead. Taking a slow breath and trying not to pay attention to the way your face suddenly felt so much warmer, you spoke, “I should’ve told you this on the rooftop, but I-”

Your throat clenched around the syllables and your hands curled into fists where they had fallen on your lap when he had backed away from you.

“Hey,” Yoongi replied, reaching out to the hand on your lap before hesitating. Deciding you needed the comfort, he let his hand lower to stroke the skin. “It’s all right. You can tell me now. Or not. I never meant to push you into anything and if I have-”

“No! It’s not that. It’s nothing you did.” You immediately responded, your hand flipping to hold his tightly in reassurance. “I- um, I’m actually seeing someone.”

“Oh.” His hand was still in yours but you felt it go limp in your grasp. It was almost comical the way his eyes widened before his carefully constructed mask slipped into place. The silence was suffocating. If you tried, you could probably hear every car within a block of his place right now. Ink irises swept over your face and lowered your head, guilt surging through you. Sensing that you’d outstayed your welcome, you began to rise from the couch only for his fingers to contract and pull you down to the couch again. Landing rather ungracefully, you met his eyes once more. “Is that why you freaked out the next morning?”

You didn’t have to ask for context. “Yeah, it was him on the phone.”

“Hm…” He hummed, more to let you know that he’d heard you than anything. His eyes studied your face, as though searching for something. But what, you didn’t know. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Um,” you replied, “I don’t know if you noticed, but I was a little bit busy freaking the fuck out.”

He gave you an exasperated look, his grip still tight on your hand. “I mean that night.”

You opened your mouth to answer, only to shut it again. Why hadn’t you? You’d been drinking, but not nearly enough to make you forget something so vital. Even when you were having sex, you knew it was wrong in the back of your mind, and yet you hadn’t let out a peep. Sifting through your memories, you couldn’t really find a definite answer. At least you had the decency to shoot him an apologetic glance. “I should’ve, I know.”

“And after?”

“I didn’t think your number was the same?” It was a sorry excuse and you both knew it.

“You didn’t think to ask the six friends we share?”

“I-”

“He doesn’t know does he?” The question he cut you off with was more a statement than anything.

“No.” Something in Yoongi’s eyes seemed to click, causing shame to make your ears burn as you spoke.

“The way I see it,” Yoongi let out a small, humourless chuckle before a smirk settled onto his mouth and his thumb started to rub slow circles into the skin of your hand. “Most people who want something like this to go away,” He shifted closer on the couch and his palm began to glide up your arm. Your eyes shifted to your lap, knowing exactly where he was going with this. “Probably would’ve either stayed away or told me to shove off.”

The fingers of his right hand fluttered past your left shoulder as his shirt brushed the skin of your arm from his leaning closer. Everywhere he touched felt on fire, the soft pads of his fingertips pushing your hair behind your ear and exposing your neck did nothing to help. And then you felt his breath. Warm and flooding your senses enough that you couldn’t hold back a shudder. He chuckled darkly, letting his mouth come so close to your ear that you could feel the ghost of it along the shell. His voice was thick when he spoke, “you didn’t do either, so what exactly do you want?”

Your voice was hardly a whisper, heat beginning to churn inside your belly, “I don’t know.”

“I think you do.” He said with a laugh as his fingers grazed over your neck to cup your jaw. Gently, he turned your head so you looked up at him, his nose nearly grazing yours. He was close, so close, and yet never invading your space. Never taking that last step of intrusion without your permission. The city lit up the edges of his hair as he let your breath merely mingle with his own in the last inch of space between you. His thumb stroked your jaw lightly while his dark, hooded, eyes searched yours. “What do you want, Y/N?”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, peeking out to wet your lips before swallowing the lump in your throat and saying, “He can’t find out.”

And then his lips were on yours. A mewl catching in your throat as your eyes fluttered closed because finally he was kissing you. Lips pillowed yours while his fingers left your jaw to tangle themselves up in the hair at the nape of your neck. Your hands flew from your lap to curl into the fabric of his shirt once again, pulling him ever closer. You were the one to swipe your tongue across the seam of his lips, practically begging him to grant you access. A month. One whole month since you felt this much heat pooling between your legs and all the man had done was kiss you, for christ sake.

When Yoongi finally let his tongue slide against yours, you really did mewl, making him chuckle into the kiss. He took the opportunity to explore your mouth, mint painting over your taste buds as one of your hands crawled up his chest to grip his shoulder. When your mouths parted, you leant forward, chasing his lips until a sharp yank of your hair moved you back into place. Seemed Yoongi hadn’t forgotten that you liked a little pain with your pleasure. Lips trailed across your cheek to your jaw as Yoongi made a humming noise, his hand fisting your hair to pull your head back far enough so he had full access to your neck.

“You seem a little wound up.” He remarked smugly before placing a wet kiss just under your jaw.

“N-no marks, Yoongi.” You moaned, fingers digging into his shoulder.

“‘Course not.” He chuckled, letting his lips and tongue glide down the column of your neck, leaving a wet trail in their wake. Teeth grazed your neck, but he did as you asked. “Wouldn’t want him knowing someone else is doing his job better, would we?”

You couldn’t reply, as the hand that wasn’t curled up in your hair grazed the skin of your thigh, inching ever higher. Instead, you let out a breathy exhale, the hand on his shoulder gliding to the nape of his neck. Lips travelled back up to yours, kissing you in slow, sensual pecks that wouldn’t be nearly enough to satiate you and he knew it. When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to take the initiative to tangle his tongue with yours, you tried to take control. Leaning as far into him as you could while he still held your hair in a fist, you snaked your tongue out to touch his puffed lips. A chuckle rumbled through his body to yours before he slipped away. His fingers released their hold on you and he shifted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, his left leg tucked to line your thigh while the other dangled off the couch. Heady eyes appraised your tousled appearance, raking over your flushed cheeks to where your fingers were digging into your thighs. With a thoroughly smug smirk, he patted his thigh.

Perhaps the motion should’ve made you annoyed, the implication that you were something akin to a pet more than clear. But instead it merely threw gas on the fire roaring in your belly. Maybe a little too eagerly, you moved so you could straddle him as he stretched his legs out under you. There was no denying the heat that flashed in his eyes as you bunched the fabric of your skirt so you could lower your weight down onto him. The jean material sitting in the crevice where your ass met your leg and just barely covering your core from his eyes. Not that it would be on for much longer if you had it your way. Both hands came to cup his face, tilting it up so you could crush your lips to his. His own digits snuck under your jacket, dragging over the curves of your waist as his tongue slid over yours. One hand slid to the small of your back while the other roughly palmed your breast, making you break the kiss with a hiss. It seemed your breast was only a stop though, his right hand continuing its journey up to push your jacket away from your shoulder. Taking the hint, you leaned back to rid yourself of the coat. Yoongi let his right hand come back to your thigh, skimming his hand back and forth over the length of it, inching higher with each stroke.

Dropping the jacket on the floor unceremoniously, you hastily reattached his lips to yours. As you kissed, your body started to follow the motions, gently rocking on his lap in an effort to encourage his digits to just dip under your skirt already. You huffed in exasperation when the pads of his fingers left your leg completely, feeling him grin impishly into the kiss. His teeth caught your lower lip as his hand began to tug your shirt out from where it was tucked into your skirt. Releasing your lip, he commanded gruffly, “off, Kitten.”

Obeying immediately, you used both hands to peel the loose tee off before depositing it on top of your jacket, your core clenching at the nickname. As soon as you were free of the shirt, Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist, wrenching you into him. Clutching his shoulders to steady yourself, wet kisses coated your skin from your clavicle to the mounds of your breasts. Cold patches of saliva coating your chest made you shiver when his breath ghosted over them. The digits on your back traced up your spine until they reached their destination, deftly unhooking the clasps of your bra. The straps hung on loosely to your shoulders until Yoongi took it upon himself to slide them down your arms. As soon as they were revealed, Yoongi’s eyes fell heavily onto your breasts. Throwing the bra to the side, his hands clutched your waist as he brought his mouth to a nipple. A tantalized sigh escaped you when his tongue slipped out to flick a pert bud, only to circle it after. Dropping your head back, pleasure bloomed inside you as he teased your nipple until it was hard before moving on to the other. Hands clutched your skirt, forcing it up and over your hips to expose your cloth covered sex. Satisfied with his ministrations, Yoongi pulled back to rest once again against the arm of the couch as his hands slid down to cup your ass. Fingers digging into your cheeks, he guided you into rocking over him, causing you to let out a moan.

“You’re a mess,” he pointed out, arousal heavy in his voice making it rasp in a way that you’d always loved. His words made you clench around nothing, grinding your hips into him for friction that you desperately needed and feeling his bulge through his sweats. “I haven’t even touched you where you really want it and you’re a mess. You’re practically drooling. I bet your panties are soaked.”

It was true, they were. You could feel it every time you rolled your hips, your underwear sliding over your weeping core so it was slick with your juices. His words did nothing to help, each syllable shooting straight to your groin. Pleased with the fucked out nod that you gave him as a reply, one of his hands released your ass, the other coming to your hip to still your movements. Nudging you to support your own weight, you were about to whine in protest when his free hand traced your slit lightly, making the noise die in your throat. With the pace of a snail, Yoongi moved his thumb to press into your clit, slowly circling the sensitive nub. A shuddered breath escaped you as you stuttered, “Y-Yoongi.”

“What is it, Princess? That desperate already?” He teased, speeding up his thumb every few strokes only to slow down once more. You couldn’t bring yourself to care that you were practically putty in his hands already. You blamed the weeks of fantasizing about him for it. When you didn’t respond, Yoongi leaned forward to bite at the skin of your breast with a growled demand. “Answer me.”

You were certain he could have felt the way your sex clenched at his rough treatment. Yoongi had always been dominant in the bed, but never like this. Never this vocal. However, it was a welcome change; a new trait of his you were more than pleased to discover, though a little curious as to what brought it on. Swirling your hips in an effort to get more friction from his touch, you let out a whispered “yes.”

“Good.” He hummed, fingers flicking your underwear to the side so he could finally touch you. His index ran along the length of your slit, to collect your juices. Pulling the finger back to gaze at the slickness that now coated the digit, he questioned, “how long has it been since you were this wet?”

You nearly groaned when he brought the finger to his mouth, sucking the traces of you off his skin. “A month.”

Popping the finger out of his mouth, he gave you a delighted laugh. “That so? Boyfriend can’t seem to get you going?”

“Not like you.” Your answer was immediate, leaning over to peck him softly as your hands strayed to the edge of his shirt that had ridden up from when you’d rocked over him. You moved your mouth to his neck, slipping your hands under his shirt to feel the soft skin of his stomach.

He hummed in approval, letting his head fall to the side to give your wandering lips more room. When he spoke, you could feel the rumble of his voice against your lips, “Good answer.”

Sliding his hand back to your core, he swiped his thumb over you, capturing some of the moisture before returning it to your clit. Much to your relief, he had deigned to reward you with a steady circular rhythm that instantly had you gasping into his neck. When his middle finger delved inside you, you couldn’t keep your nails from digging into his abdomen. Pleasure bloomed inside of you as he dragged the finger across your walls and out before inserting it again. Moans left your lips in encouragement, muffled as you sucked at his neck. Sure, he wasn’t allowed to mark you, but there were no rules against marring his skin. Your hands explored the expanse of his chest, nails digging in every few thrusts and pushing the shirt up higher. When he inserted another finger, you keened and dragged your nails from his sternum to his pelvis hard enough to make him hiss, though he didn’t stop you. Slowly but surely, your hips began to rock in tandem with his hand, the thumb on your clit now only making contact when you rolled down onto his hand. Yoongi curled his fingers inside you and you shook, rolling down harder as your walls spasmed. Unable to focus on anything other than his fingers, your lips ceased their onslaught on his neck to bury your forehead there instead, heat consistently rolling through you. With every push of your hips you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to completion, your movements gradually getting rougher as you desperately chased it.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Yoongi groaned, “look at you go.”

His words spurred you to lift your face from his neck to see what he meant. Uncurling from your tucked position, you felt a spurt of pride when you noticed the way the milky skin of his neck was splattered with red, some spots dark enough that you were sure they’d form a bruise. Eyes crawling down to where his hand was buried inside you, you realized that at some point when you’d begun to lose yourself to the pleasure, Yoongi had stopped stroking your walls. Evidently, your rocking had been hard enough that he’d had to lower you down until his hand was resting against his own pelvis, stagnant. Embarrassment made your hips stutter when it dawned on you that you’d been using his hand like a toy.

“Don’t stop,” he growled, the hand on your hip squeezing almost painfully as it encouraged you to continue rutting against him. The pull and push of his hand, eased you back into motion, his eyes locked on where your center swallowed his hand. When he was sure you’d continue without his help, the hand on your hip trailed up to cup your breast, tweaking the nipple under his thumb. The only movement from the hand inside of you was a gentle curl that accompanied each thrust of your hips and made the tension in your lower abdomen begin to mount. “That’s it. Fuck yourself on my fingers, Princess.”

Below you, you could feel how hard Yoongi was. His thick length brushing against your inner thigh in a way that you knew couldn’t be satisfying for him, though he couldn’t seem to care less. You ached to touch him, make him feel even a modicum of the pleasure he was so effortlessly pulling from you. But with the position you were in, it was impossible. So instead you clutched the hand that was gripping your breast and brought it to your lips, Yoongi’s eyes watching you curiously as you did so. Pushing his index and middle finger together, you wrapped your mouth around them and swirled your tongue around them as though his digits were a much different part of his body. Satisfaction made you suck when you heard the barely there moan that escaped his chest at the motion. Shallowly, Yoongi began to thrust his fingers into your warm mouth.

“Shit, you really are desperate for me aren’t you?” He remarked, an amused mask cast over his features, but you could see the lust underlining his irises. Instead of answering verbally, you merely sucked, coaxing his fingers deeper into your mouth. A chuckle rumbled in his chest as his fingers in your core began to move again as a reward. “He really must not be taking very good care of you. Or at least not like I do.”

There was just enough insecurity in his voice for you to catch it, though Yoongi stamped out any chance for you to soothe it by clamping his fingers in your mouth down to trap your tongue while the ones buried in your heat began a brutal pace.

“Bet I can make you feel better with my fingers than he ever could with his dick.” Yoongi’s mouth tilted into a wicked grin at his own challenge. You already have, you wanted to say, but the fingers holding your tongue down and the spasming in your core morphed it into a strangled moan. The tension in your belly was taut now, threatening to snap with any plunge of his fingers. When he scissored his fingers inside you, you knew you were gone. The deep rasp of his voice in your ears breaking the floodgate when he said, “C’mon, Kitten. Cum for me.”

A tidal wave of pleasure lit up your nerves like a christmas tree. The intensity of it made your body curl in on itself as your hands clamped down on Yoongi to keep yourself steady. Hips stuttering, you rode out the waves as Yoongi’s fingers in your mouth slithered out, a lewd string of saliva strung from his fingertips to your lips. As your movements slowed, so did Yoongi’s, until he gently pulled his hand away from your mound. Blinking away the blurriness in your vision, you watched as Yoongi spread his fingers in the soft light of his apartment. Traces of you coated his digits, shining when they caught they caught the light as he brought them to his mouth. Hooded eyes locked with yours as he cleaned his fingers of your essence and despite the orgasm you’d just had, you felt your sex clench greedily.

Leaning forward, you pulled his fingers from his mouth so you were free to capture his lips with your own. Releasing his wrist, you rested a hand on his shoulder as the other snaked down his body. When you finally reached your desired destinations, you squeezed through the fabric he still wore. Yoongi broke the kiss to let out a breath, warming your lips as you cupped him through his sweats, the length of his dick solid under your touch. Eager to return the favour, your hand slipped under the bands of his clothes, taking him in hand and relishing in the feel of the contact. Trailing your lips to his throat, you pumped him, a soft groan rumbling under your kiss. You didn’t mark him any more, merely brushing across the marks on him before delving further. Truth be told, you were frustrated that he’d opted to keep his shirt on for the time being, aching to see and feel the skin hidden by it under your lips. You didn’t let it distract you though, shimmying down his body and positioning yourself so that you straddled one of his legs while the one that was closest to the edge of the couch moved so his foot was flat on the floor. Once you were settled, you tugged on his bottoms. Lifting his hips, he let you tug them down just enough that his erection could escape.

Keeping your eyes on him, you curled over to place a chaste kiss on the tip, the slow strokes of your hand never ceasing. You saw him try and fail to hide a shudder, evidently hesitant to show that you had just as much of an effect on him as he had on you. Resting your hand on the base, you kissed down his hard length. He cast an annoyed look, which made you smile. You let your tongue loll out of your mouth, dragging it up the underside of his cock before taking the tip on your mouth. Sucking lightly, you tasted the first hint of precum on your tongue and hummed, watching as Yoongi’s eyelids drooped with pleasure. Never did you think you’d miss the taste of someone's cum, and yet here you were. The desire to him surged inside you as you took him into your mouth, your hand sweeping over the inches you couldn’t yet reach. Yoongi gathered your hair in his hand, swirling it so it made a coil that wound around his grip to keep it from impeding your efforts. Resting the hand on the back of your head, he urged you further down his length with every bob of your head. The sound of slurping echoed in the apartment as you did your best to pleasure him in all the ways you remembered him liking. Taking a breath through your nose, you let your hand fall to his balls, cupping and massaging at them. Yoongi’s jaw fell so his mouth hung slightly open when you sucked him down until his tip hit the back of your throat. His grip in your hair tightening as he muttered “shit.”

The reaction made your stomach clench, rekindling the arousal between your legs. Sliding back up, your saliva coated his dick, the veins bulging just beneath the skin. Diving back down, you took him as far as you could, your free hand gripping his shirt in as you fought the urge to gag. He let out a small groan, his hand holding your head in place. Swallowing around him, he couldn’t keep his hips from jerking upward, tears springing in your eyes but you remained still.

“Fuck, I forgot how good at this you are.” Your lower half grinded over his leg in an effort to ease the tension that had built up in your core again as your heart swelled with pride from his praise. Easing up only a little to take a breath, you lowered even further, only stopping when the tip of your nose touched the skin of his groin. The moan you let out around him made Yoongi tipped his head back, relishing in the constriction of your throat on him and the feel of you rubbing yourself against him. Tears leaked out of your eyes as you struggled to not gag with him so far down your throat, failing once or twice. Though Yoongi didn’t mind, in fact he seemed to get off on it, a murmur of “good girl” falling from his lips each time. When the pressure became too much, you eased up once again, inhaling deeply. As soon as you went to take him in again though, the hand gripping your hair held you back. Brows furrowed in confusion, you fixed him with a questioning look as he sat up, dragging you up into a sitting position in the process. Yanking your head back to kiss a line up to your throat, he mumbled “I’d rather cum doing something else.”

A chill skittered down your spine, letting him push you around like a toy as he maneuvered you how he wanted. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he moved you to straddle him once again, lifting his leg that brushed the floor so it was once again on the couch. Holding you tightly, your chest was crushed to his, each breath making your breasts push against him. Weaseling a hand down in between you, you keened when he grabbed the base of his dick and ran the tip along your folds, quickly moving yourself to pull your panties to the side for better access. You were so wet again that you heard the slippery sounds of his head being coated in your juices. When he rimmed your opening, your head clouded with lust, desperation coursing through your veins and causing words to tumble past your lips without so much as a second thought. “Yoongi, please just fuck me.”

“Hm,” he hummed, holding you up so that you couldn’t sink down on him like you wanted. A smirk toyed at the edges of his mouth again as he admonished, “I think you can beg a little better than that.”

“Please,” Surely, you thought, this counts as some form of torture. A gasp escaped you when he let the tip of his length delve into you and proceeded to hold it there as words started to babble from your mouth. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for a whole month. You make me feel so good, Yoongi. I can’t stop thinking about how you fucked me on that stupid chair and how much I just want you to do it again, how much I just want to feel you inside me again. I want you to stretch me out, fill me up, and make it so you have to carry me home. Please.”

“Much better.” His praise is accentuated by his length finally slipping the rest of the way inside of you, finding little resistance from how wet you were.

A pleased sigh left your mouth as his now free hand swatted yours away from your underwear to hold it to the side himself, thumb hooking into the material and pinning it to where he gripped your thigh. The hand that was slithered around your waist fell to your hip as he leaned back, letting you move to start rocking on him. There was no denying how he made you feel. You hadn’t been lying when you’d begged. The proof being in how perfectly he filled you and how you’d hardly moved at all yet you already felt your walls pulsating around him, begging for the feeling only he seemed to be able to give you. You never felt like this when you had sex with Woojin, or anyone else for that matter, and the admission of that frustrated you. What if staying with Woojin was the mistake and not this?

It’s only sex for right now, you reminded yourself, picking up the pace as though to prove it to yourself. Focusing on how Yoongi’s dick stroked your walls in an effort to will away your thoughts, it was almost as if the man below you knew your thoughts were straying. He bent his legs under you to prop his heels against the seat cushion before drilling upward to match your thrusts, effectively whisking away any thoughts that weren’t about him. Your mouth gaped and you tilted your head back, feeling the coil in your stomach getting ever tighter. Apparently, he felt it too, immediately wrenching you off him when it felt on the verge of snapping.

The groan of frustration you gurgled out was cut short by him muttering gruffly, “Stand up.”

Without protest, you shifted your shaking legs to stand. Yoongi moved to sit before you, his hands groped up the back of your thighs until they met your ass. Kneading your cheeks roughly, he tipped forward. Your hand curled in his hair when his tongue peeked out to glide over the skin of your lower stomach in a wet kiss, punctuated by his teeth nipping at your hip. Unceremoniously, he yanked your panties down before standing. Stepping out of the fabric, you flung them to the side with your toe as Yoongi’s mouth met yours, his hands gripping your hips. Your tongues danced as you felt Yoongi pivot the both of you so you now had your back to the couch. Pulling away from the kiss with a nibble at your lower lip, he turned you abruptly. The silken skin of his cock brushed against your ass, the leftovers of your sticky fluids transferring from him to you. Lips brushed against your ear as a hand traveled up your curves to rest against the top of your spine as he all but growled, “bend over.”

He hardly gave you the chance to obey, his palm pressing into your spine to tilt you forward. Bracing yourself by gripping the top of the couch with your elbows bent so your back was nearly level, the hand on your spine slithered to your head. Fingers gathered your hair in a fist and yanked it toward him like a leash, forcing your head to pull back, your spine to bend, and your ass to push into him with a hiss. At the sound of your pain, the hand loosened to your own dismay.

“Too much?” You immediately shook your head ‘no’. There was no doubting the pleased note in his voice as his grip tightened again to pull on the strands of your hair and he replied, “good girl.”

A foot nudged in between yours, edging your feet outward to spread your legs for him. Guiding himself to your entrance, he thrust himself inside you. His free hand gripped your hip, blunt nails digging into the skin as he pulled back and thrust himself back in with a resounding snap of his hips. The pace he set picked up right from where you’d left off instead of building up. Your shrill cry of pleasure echoed in the apartment, the new angle allowing him to hit deep with each push of his hips. The force of his movements jostled your body, the strength causing your breasts to sway underneath you. The feel of cotton brushed against your spine as Yoongi’s body curled over yours. His dick was filling you in the way you had only felt when you were with him, your brain reduced to mush as he pushed you more toward the couch with every thrust until your arms were bent and the only thing keeping your head from falling into the top of the couch was the grip on your hair. Your jaw hung open, moans and mewls escaping your lungs as you pushed backwards to match his rhythm. You were close, nearly letting out a sob when his pace slowed.

“Tell me,” his breath fanned against your ear, your mind swirling with pleasure. His words were slightly laboured, most of his effort going toward plowing you into the couch. “How many times have you thought of me when you were with him?”

“Before the party?” You replied, breathlessly. “Never.”

“And after?”

You didn’t have the capacity to feel embarrassed at the moment. “Every time.”

At your admission his hips snapped into you with renewed vigor and you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied at the fact that Min Yoongi was jealous. Pain tingled at your scalp as Yoongi pulled on your hair, forcing you to follow as he tilted up, causing your arms to straighten. Fingers trailed up your stomach, briefly pausing to palm your breast before travelling further upward until they reached your neck. Digits gripped your throat, his forearm finding its home in the valley of your breasts making you feel the way the muscles tensed when he tightened his grip to limit your breathing. A moan was caught by his hand, the sound coming out choked and gurgling. Yoongi pressed his forehead into your shoulder, a grunt pushing past his lips when your walls began to contract tellingly. With a few more thrusts, you came undone.

A moan rumbled against your back, your legs trembling as ecstasy crashed over your body, the pressure at your neck heightening it. Your vision became spotty as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your veins. Velvet walls spasmed around Yoongi, his hips stuttering at the sensation, though continuing to guide you through your orgasm. When a faint feeling began to fog your mind, you reached up to tap Yoongi’s hand. Immediately he released your neck and you gasped in a gulp of air, the sopping sounds of Yoongi pistoning into you rang in your ears as he desperately chased his own end. With a few more snaps of his hips and a harsh grope of your breast, Yoongi finished. A groan of pleasure hung in the air as he hastily pulled out, painting your back with ropes of white. He shifted a hand to stroke himself, riding out his high. A piece of you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he didn’t want to cum inside of you like last time. In the back of your mind, you had to wonder if this was him drawing a line and if it was for his sake or yours. As the last of his orgasm dribbled out, he released a breath of hot air that you felt faintly caress your shoulder before wrapping his free arm around your stomach. For a moment the both of you were silent, exhaustion making your chests heave while your bodies began to cool, his cum making goosebumps rise on your skin as it began to dry.

“Was that okay?” Yoongi asked suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft as he spoke, a stark contrast from earlier. “Not too rough?”

You brought one hand away from the couch to rub at the arm that encased you, “it was more than okay.”

His chest vibrated with a chuckle. “Good, you always were kinky but I thought I’d check.”

Changing your tune, you slapped his arm. “I’m kinky?! What does that make you?”

Yoongi struggled to keep the giggle from his voice when he pinched your side and quipped, “a willing and considerate partner.”

Feeling your legs beginning to shake, Yoongi sighed and pulled away from you, releasing your body from his hold as silence fell over the room once again. You did your best to stay upright, only faltering a little before your legs remembered that they were, in fact, not Jell-o. Your hands ached when you finally released the other from its hold on the back of the couch and stood up straight. You hoped that your vice grip hadn’t done any damage to the material. A shuffling of fabric could be heard behind you and you turned your head to peer at Yoongi as he walked across the living room to the washroom. Collecting your clothes off the floor, a twang of regret pulled at your heart that you hadn’t been able to see his body as you’d fucked. However, it was quickly snuffed out by surprise when you caught yourself thinking, there’s always next time. You mentally began to prepare yourself, remembering how sick you’d felt after you’d last had sex with Yoongi, and even Woojin for that matter. For over a month you’d felt disgusting after having sex and now, when by all means you should feel that way, you didn’t. Even with the thick rivulets of cum from someone who was most definitely not your boyfriend slowly dripping down your spine. But why?

Your contemplation was interrupted as Yoongi gently placed a hand on your shoulder, a slightly worried look on his face as he bit his lip and turned you to wipe his cum off of your back with a rag he had gotten. Scratching the back of his head, he nodded toward the other side of the living room.

“There’s a bathroom there if you want to get cleaned up. I have clothes you can wear…”

You knew what the unspoken question was in that statement and as much as you wanted nothing more than to accept his offer, you couldn’t. “I should probably go back home.”

He nodded, unsurprised by your answer. “Yeah, I guess he’ll be waiting for you, hey?”

“Yeah.”

He was silent and you felt a stab of self-consciousness now that the heat had been taken out of the room. Glaringly aware that you were standing naked in his apartment you held your jacket to your chest so it at least partially covered your body. “At least let me make you something to eat before you go. There wasn’t much left at Luna’s after the guys dug in.”

Lifting your eyes from the pile of clothes you crushed to your chest, you shot him a soft smile. “I’d like that.”

Nodding, he turned and shuffled toward the kitchen as you made your way to his bathroom. Flicking on the light and closing the door, you quickly began to attempt to make yourself presentable. Sliding your skirt and bra on, you decided to forego the panties that you shoved into your jacket pocket. Your hair was the worst of it, thoroughly mussed from Yoongi’s hands. When you did your best to smooth it down, you couldn’t help but notice that the follicles felt sore, though you didn’t actually mind much. The reward of his roughness was most definitely worth the pain you felt between your legs and where his hands had handled you. Once you were satisfied with your appearance you exited the bathroom, a savory aroma wafting to your nose.

“Ramen?” You asked, coming to stand beside him at the stove.

A grin made his lips turn upward as he stirred the noodles in the pot, remarking, “only the best for my hook-ups.”

“Oh.” You deadpanned, a flare of jealousy licking at your insides. “So, I’m not the only one coming around then.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He chuckled. “Not that you really have a right to complain here.”

That made you frown guiltily. “I-I guess you’re right.”

Noticing your sullen expression, he started to backpedal, “Sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

“No,” you shook your head before tilting it to lean on his shoulder to stop him from thinking he’d upset you. “I mean you really are right. I pretty much told you I’m not going to stop what I’m doing so it’s not fair for me to expect you to.”

He hummed, his features screwed up in thought. “Then, what happens now? I’d rather not wait another month before seeing you again.”

“Me either, honestly. We do whatever we both feel comfortable with, I suppose.” You could feel the tension melt from Yoongi’s frame, though your own seemed to bask in it. Anxiety chewed at your soul, despite what you said, at the thought of this all blowing up in your face, but you still didn’t want to let this pass by. Deep down you knew that if you did, you would never stand a chance at ever letting Yoongi go with a million ‘what if’s’ taking residence in your head. Sensing your thoughts running rampant, a hand glided to rub at the small of your back as a sweet distraction. A small sigh left you as your head fell to his chest and his arm coaxed you to press your body into his. “Just like you said on the roof, I want to explore this.”

“Okay,” Yoongi agreed, nodding. “So, let’s say I asked if you’d kiss me right now. How comfortable are we feeling with that?”

An amused giggle escaped your lips, craning your neck to look up at him. “So comfortable that I just might say yes.”

Pushing yourself up onto your tippy toes, you slanted your mouth against his. The kiss was soft, lips welcoming one another as old friends and sending a warm feeling through your chest. Your fingers crawled up to rest your palm against his sternum as you pecked him for a second, third, and fourth time. Pressing circles into his chest with your thumb, you broke the kiss to brush your lips against his cheek before falling to the flats of your feet. Turning his attention back to cooking, he waited a few more moments before shutting off the burner.

“Go sit.” He said, jerking his head toward the breakfast bar at the kitchen island.

You nodded obediently, extracting yourself from his warmth to slide onto one of the barstools. Yoongi grabbed two bowls and filled them, rounding the island to place one in front of you before plopping down onto the stool beside you with his own. Motioning for you to dig in he watched as you blew on the scalding meal, biding his time until you’d shoveled in a couple mouthfuls before saying. “You are, by the way. The only one.”

You coughed on the hot soup, his laughter echoing in the room as he pat your back and your cheeks warmed. Swallowing the mouthful, you shot him a glare. “You did that on purpose.”

“Maybe.” He admitted, a playful, content smile on his face which stayed there for the rest of the night.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #bts imagine #suga smut #suga imagine #suga fanfic #bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #suga scenarios #listen #this has been in my drafts for A WHOLE ASS YEAR #if there are spelling mistakes and shit i am sprry but i do not have the energy to edit this thing atm #honestly a miracle i finally got it out ok #ok bye see you next year lmao

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snowrobin-133 · 4 years

Text

Wizard Alice Headcanon

Hi yes I am joining in with the headcanons lol. Sorry if these are super bad since this is my first time doing something like this and idk how to write lmao

The concept of this magic is similar to that of the magic in Cradle. It takes energy to use magic instead of it sapping away at your life. There's also only one type of magic; there's no wild/natural object, such as the magic crystals, that would have natural magic properties. There were objects that had magic but that magic was inserted(?) into the object. Certain spells also required incantations and can take time to do but otherwise most spells would be instantaneous. And that's the gist of the magic the mc uses.

Thanks to @plumpblueberry and @pianoperson for beta reading and pointing out stuff!

I’ll only be doing 3 suitors from the Black and Red Army but onto the HC, enjoy!!

~~Black Army~~

Ray

Ray was shooketh shook to learn you had magic

You had told him yourself a few weeks into your new relationship

He asked a simple question, concern in his eyes

If your magic was similar to his then he would most definitely tell you to not use your magic often or not at all

You assure him though, saying that your magic only takes energy, not your life force (years? Idk sksks)

It doesn't do much to assure him though

He was worried about you collapsing from exhaustion

It would also make you a bigger target for the rouge magic tower disciples running around

Although it does help him to know that you have a way of protecting yourself if something were to happen

He hugs you from behind, asking you in a soft voice, "Just don't overdo it too much."

You smiled softly and nodded before snuggling into his embrace

As the two of you cuddled, he asked you questions about your magic with a curious gaze

Although he was still worried, it was still curious to see someone, who is supposed to be from the land of reason that had no magic, have magic

Later on in the relationship, he'll grow to trust you with your magic and will be more lenient on your uses of it

Luka

He saw you using magic in the kitchen

A simple levitation spell to bring you some ingredients

He dropped his diary as soon as he saw you waving your hands and ingredients flew toward you and the diary landed with a loud thump

You immediately stop the spell and all the ingredients that were floating to you fell to the ground

You turned around and saw Luka

He was staring in surprise

He then asked if that was magic and hesitantly, you nodded

You knew you could trust him but it was still hard to tell others about your magic

Instead of questioning you about it, he walked over to the items you had dropped and started picking them up

He stood up after picking them all up and placed them on the counter

“...You probably shouldn’t be using them as freely as you’ve been doing.” he murmured

You looked at him in surprise

After a few seconds, you smiled softly and nodded

The two of you started to work on the dishes for dinner and talked about your magic in hushed whispers

Fenrir

The first time he saw you use magic was when a disciple had attacked you

You were shopping at Central Quarter when you found yourself at a dead end

Suddenly, 2 disciples had appeared behind you with magic crystals in their hands

They attacked you and you used your power to reflect the spells to protect yourself.

As the magic crystal the disciple was using ran out of magic, he drew a sword and lunged at you

At that point, Fenrir had found you and was about to shoot the disciple

He was too slow though because you had used a spell to block the sword

He watched in surprise as you used magic to conjure up a whip

Using the whip, you knocked out the disciples quickly

You fell to the ground after exerting much of your energy reflecting the spells and conjuring the whip

Fenrir rushed over to you and you looked at him in surprise

Had he seen you use your magic?

He made sure you were alright before asking you multiple questions

As he rambled, you burst out giggling

He paused in surprise before joining you

As both of your laughter died down, you looked to the disciples

Fenrir got up with a smile and went off to tie the disciples up

As he tied them up, he proudly bragged, “My girl can beat up anyone including these jerks.”

You blushed in embarrassment but laughed anyway.

More Under the cut!

~~Red Army~~

Lancelot (takes place during his route)

He was hiding from Kyle when he caught you in the middle of practicing your magic

You were under the shade of a tree in a corner of the land around the headquarters when he found you

He was about to walk up to you but noticed a bright light in your hands

He watched in surprise as you didn’t react to it and instead murmured something incomprehensible

He stayed silent, letting you finish the spell, not wanting any consequences

Once you finished up, you realized someone was near you and immediately turned around in alarm

You relaxed as you realize it was Lancelot

He walked up to you, surprise still evident on his face

Although that surprise quickly vanished

He put on a stoic expression but his mind was filled with concern

Similarly to Ray, if your magic was similar to theirs then he would tell you to never use it or to not use it often

And again, if word got out about your magic, then you would be an even bigger target

He looked at you for sometime and you eventually looked away, embarrassed by his gaze

You wondered if he would say anything about your magic

He probably saw you as even more of a bigger threat now

"...Don't use your magic so carelessly." He spoke with an emotionless voice

You looked at him in confusion, like usual, you couldn't read him even as he turned around and walked away

As he walked away, he made a silent vow to never let the magic tower know of your magic and to try harder to keep you out of their clutches

Soon enough Kyle found him, forcing him to take his shots

Kyle

He found out about your magic when you had no choice but to heal someone with it

He was called onto the scene, but it seemed that you got there first

He jumped to conclusions, thinking that your magic was like the magic in Cradle, and immediately swooped in, stopping you

You yelped out in alarm and turned to him in surprise

Panic and fear was evident in his eyes as he asked you to leave the healing to him

You stayed silent for a few seconds and reluctantly agreed and backed away

Kyle spent the rest of the day taking care of the injured person but at the back of his mind were many questions

When he finally finished, he went to look for you

He found you in your room at the Red Army headquarters, sitting on your bed

Sitting down beside you, both of you stayed quiet for a few seconds

You broke the silence first, asking if he was mad at you

He stayed silent but replied with a quiet no

His mind was still whirling with questions as he thought before letting out one question

"Will… Can, it kill you?"

You took a few seconds to process the question

With a gentle smile you hugged him from behind whispering a small no

Kyle didn't respond but you could feel his tense muscles relax as he put his hand over yours

Zero (Contains spoilers of his route)

He found out about your magic when he saved you from the disciple (at the start of his route)

He was patrolling and saw you attack the robed guy with a magical orb

He stood there frozen in surprise before shaking out of it and jumping in to help

The two of you worked together to fight against the robed man before more of them started to gather

He picked you up, deciding to jump down the cliff with you

As you fell down the cliff, you panicked and use your magic to land safely on the ground

What you didn't expect was that you would land in a river

As you and Zero climbed out of the river, you thought about using magic to dry yourself

Your thoughts were cut short as your knees gave out from below you

Zero caught you just in time before landing on the ground

"Are you ok?" He asked hurriedly

You nodded and thanked him

With his help you shakily stood up

He started to walk you out of the forest, letting you use him as support

He never questioned you about your powers and stayed silent, for which you were grateful for

Although he stayed silent, his mind was whirling with questions

He also realized that since the disciple saw you using your magic, you would be in even more danger

After getting to the civil center and talking with Blanc and Zero, you had agreed to stay at the Red Army Headquarters

Silently he made a vow to try harder to protect you, especially now with the discovery of your magic

Hope you all liked this!!

#cybrid ikemen #ikemen revolution #ikerev headcanons #ikerev ray #ikerev luka #ikerev fenrir #ikerev lancelot #ikerev kyle #ikerev zero

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awful-roffle-archive · 3 years

Text

Meteors dot txt

A/N: this definitely got to a point i just took the characters and setting and did my own story with it but uh. its fine. no idea if i’ll ever come back to this but?? im running out of writing spoons rn so! you get this as is with its really choppy ending :^) nothing’s been proof read by someone else but i tried my best so uh. enjoy lmao

word count: 3,420

"Today's broadcast reports there will be a meteor shower raining over Pelican Town this evening! Make sure to take an umbrella with you! Hehe." The meteorologist quips before the broadcast goes back to the news about the latest about the Gotoro Empire. Rayzan sighs and shuts the TV off, sipping at his coffee.

"What's so important about some damn meteor shower? It's... what, space rocks? Big whoop." He mutters to himself, shoving a rather... strange (to put it lightly) tasting cheese cauliflower into his mouth. It's what he gets from buying food from Joja - hopefully he wouldn't start glowing or something as a side effect. With a grunt he pushes himself off of the floor, throwing the plastic container to the side. He'd clean it up later. Probably.

He jumps as there's a rapping on the janky screen door, and he instinctively grabs his gun from behind a potted plant. Pulling the door open, he aims it directly between the other's eyes.

"What the fuck do you want." His tone is harsh and cold, and he never breaks eye contact with her.

"Oh!" Maru stumbles backwards on the porch, holding her hands up. "I'm sorry! I just- uh-" She falters over her words, clearly taken aback.

"Spit it out."

"Can you put down the gun? Please?" Maru chooses her words carefully, keeping her hands in the air.

"I thought I made it perfectly fucking clear I didn't want anyone bothering me." He moves the gun downward, but his gaze still seems to burn through her.

"Well, yes, but..."

"But you wanted to anyways, right? You decided your high-fucking-horse is more important than my privacy."

There's a long pause before Maru says anything. She just stands there, gawking at him. "I just wanted to tell you about the meteor shower tonight. Everyone's going to be gathered at the beach, if you wanted to come." She speaks simply before turning around and stepping off the porch. "Yeah. I'm aware." He slams the door, the screens rattling as he locks it. "Yoba damn everyone in this fucking town." He grumbles and hides the gun once more.

Grabbing whatever clothes he could find from his dresser, he stares at himself in the mirror. So much for keeping up appearances, huh? He takes a deep breath and runs some hair gel through his hair, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. He gags and spits into a bucket of lake water. His plumbing hadn't worked for, well, what felt like months now and he wasn't about to go ask Mrs. 'Oh how are you? Where are you from? How is the farm? Do you have any family?' Robin for help any time soon.

Pulling a shirt over his head he makes his way outside, staring at his rather sad attempt at a garden. He was supposed to be a farmer and he couldn't even keep a few peppers alive, let alone an entire farm's worth. Deciding to water the crops, despite them being... well, very dead, he tosses his farming tools aside and heads into town.

---

The walk always felt long and tedious. He had looked into getting a car before, but the walk to even GET to a dealership was way out of the question, and with the only bus in town out of commission, he was pretty much stuck in town and on foot. The sun beat down on him endlessly, almost taunting him for daring to move during the summer.

As soon as he reaches town he instantly heads for Joja. The saloon wouldn't be open for another few hours, and he sure as hell wasn't going to sit in Pierre's and listen to his badgering about how the farm was doing. Instantly being hit with the a/c of Jojamart he takes a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Quite the walk, isn't it? You should take a sip of the latest JojaCola flavor! NuBerry - a delicious combination of raspberry and cranberry thrown together by our team of talented scientists! Joja is not liable for any injuries or side effects that may occur while drinking NuBerry. NuBerry - Fresh and full of smiles!" Morris spews off like a recorded advertisement, making Rayzan roll his eyes. He instead heads back towards the freezers, holding it open and just soaking in the cold as he sinks to the floor.

“Probably shouldn't stand there with it open like that.” A voice comes up from behind him, leaning over his shoulder.

“You and I both know you don't care about their electric bills.” Rayzan smirks as he looks up to see Shane leaning over him. “Unless you've suddenly had a change of heart?” He puts a hand to his heart, leaning back.

“Nah. Last I heard there was some freezer monster back there. Snatches up kids that don't know better.” Shane quips and stands up straighter. “Besides, I gotta put these in there.” He motions to a palette of frozen pizza boxes.

“Mind if I nab one of those to go?”

“Hey, if you can get it past Morris be my guest.” Shane pauses, “But if you get caught I didn't see shit.” He grins before going back to restocking the freezer.

“You underestimate me greatly.” Rayzan snatches a box off of the pile, waiting until Morris was busy doing who-knows-what until stealthily stepping out the door with it.

“Oi, watch it kid.” Pam exclaims as Rayzan runs directly into her, almost dropping his box.

“Whatever.” Rayzan grumbles and rushes past her, wondering where the hell he could keep this for the time being. There was no way he was walking all the way back home for just this. Looking around he exhales before checking his watch. 10:04 am. Fuck. What was he supposed to do for at least another two hours before the saloon opened?

He could go to the mines... but that didn't solve his pizza dilemma. He groans before staring down at the river. Maybe... No, that would make it soggy. Shit. He settles on hiding it behind a rock in the shade – at least it would stay cool there. Wiping his hands off he heads past Pierre's, only to get stopped on his way.

“Hey, Rayzan! How is the farm coming along? You know, if you need anything we-”

“Yeah, yeah. You sell seeds and shit. I'm thoroughly aware. It's the only fucking shit you sell.” Rayzan interrupts her, turning back around with his arms crossed.

“Well... Pierre and I have discussed expanding our stock recently. If you have anything you'd like to see feel free to let us know!” Caroline smiles, holding up a small basket of tomatoes. “These are freshly grown from our garden, they're rather fresh, too. We were thinking about selling these, would you like to try one?”

“...I'll pass.” Rayzan rolls his eyes, continuing up the path.

“Oh, well, I'll see you later at the meteor shower then!”

“Doubt it.” He picks up his pace, running up towards the mountains. The air always feels crisper up here, fresher. He takes a moment to breathe as he reaches Robin's house, then immediately ducks by it. There was no way he was sticking around for more pleasant conversations with the townsfolk. ESPECIALLY Robin.

---

As he ducks into the mine, Marlon looks over at him and just laughs. “What, are you planning on starting an earth quake and almost killing yourself again? Didn't have enough last time?”

“Shut up. I didn't even bring my gun this time.”

“You didn't bring your sword, either. Or a pickaxe... What exactly are you planning on doing down there?” Marlon points out, nodding towards him. “May be half-blind but even I can see that's not a good idea.”

Rayzan takes a moment to look over himself, realizing he didn't actually bring any tools. “...Fuck.” He sighs in exasperation as Marlon laughs at him.

“Get out of here kid. I'm not in the mood to rescue you again.”

“Shut up.” Rayzan repeats himself, leaving the cave with a roll of his eyes. He heads past Linus' tent with a nod of his head, shoving his hands into his pockets before heading up towards the train station. Oh how he wished he could hop on the train and get the hell out of here. Instead he pushes the door open to the spa, heading for the locker room. With any luck no one else would be there.

Unfortunately, this wasn't his lucky day. Alex sits up from the weight bench as he waves at him.

“Hey man, didn't think I'd see you up here again.” Alex grins. “That offer to spot you is still open. You know, so you don't drop your weight on your foot again. How's that doing, by the way?”

“It's fine.” Rayzan says simply, yanking at his locker door.

“You gotta pull it up first.” Alex speaks up after a few moments of Rayzan fighting with the locker.

“...I knew that.” Rayzan responds, moving the handle up before pulling it open properly.

“Oh! Uh, are you going to that... that shower tonight? Haley's dragging me along. Don't know, might be pretty cool.”

“Wasn't really planning on it. Everyone keeps asking me about it.” He grumbles and grabs a towel, heading for the showers.

“Well, it's just, basically everyone in town goes to these things. It's kind of a big deal, these festivals and all.”

“Yeah, I got that. Now, do you mind? I'm sweaty and I'm not going to wash myself off at home with lake water.”

“You don't have a shower?”

“No.”

“Why don't you-”

“I'm not asking anyone to fix my shit.” With that, Rayzan pulls the curtain to the shower shut and tosses his things down. What's with everyone in this town being so damn talkative?

---

He spends the next several hours in the pool, ignoring Penny and Alex talking about who knows what. His day is rather quiet after that, deciding to head to his usual place in the saloon – where, yes, he does get Gus to put his pizza in the freezer for him for the time being. He ends up falling asleep in one of the booths, nursing his glass of beer. He's only awaken by Shane poking him in the side.

“Wha-? Ah... Mm..” Rayzan murmurs, stretching his arms out. “Thought you'd have more courtesy than to wake a sleeping man.” He grumbles drowsily.

“Didn't want to, but otherwise it'd be Gus and I figured you didn't want that. He's locking up here to go see the meteor shower thing. Jas wanted me to go with her.” He doesn't sound very enthused about it either. “Want to go keep me company?”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah. I know.” He frowns, but steps aside as Rayzan gets up.

“Guess so.” He sighs, then looks over at Gus by the door. “Can I get my pizza after? So I'm not holding it the whole time?”

“Of course! I'll leave the door unlocked for ya.” Gus beams before heading outside, Shane and Rayzan soon following after.

“So did Morris say anything about the missing stock?” Rayzan glances over, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Hah, no not really. Don't think he even noticed you leaving. Lillian didn't either, or at least she didn't mention it.” Shane ponders as they walk the rest of the way in silence.

---

They pick a spot that's far enough away from everyone else to not be bothered, but close enough that Jas wouldn't complain to Marnie that Shane didn't show up.

“You ever seen one of these things?” Rayzan speaks up after awhile, looking up at Shane.

“Nah, I'm not really... into space stuff. There's enough to worry about on this planet, you know? Never mind worrying about whatever the hell aliens out there are getting up to.”

“Agreed.” Rayzan nods, pushing his hair up out of his face before staring up at the sky as the meteors begin raining by. Everyone is quiet other than the “oohs” and “ahhs” and other noises spoken in awe of the event. As Rayzan looks around he sees people making various wishes, Robin and Demetrius kissing, and Vincent and Jas playing astronauts off to the side. A faint smile grows on his face as he leans back, letting the sand seep between his fingers. This was nice, despite his many protests against it.

Eventually, the shower ended and the crowd started dying down as everyone went home. Shane said his goodbyes as he carried a very sleepy Jas off, and Rayzan was left alone. Rayzan sat there for a few more minutes listening to the ocean. Everything was peaceful, until a loud crash roars through the beach. The sound shakes through the town, and Rayzan jumps from his spot.

“The f-?” He suddenly wishes he had literally any weapon on him. He hesitantly makes his way over to the right hand side of the beach, staring at the smoldering pit among what used to be small tide pools. “Uh.” He mutters to himself, looking back towards Elliott's hut. No reaction. Was he already asleep? How did he NOT hear that? He shakes his head and grabs a stray stick from by the trees, poking at the object in the middle of the pit with it.

“Uh...” Rayzan repeats to himself, looking down at his hands. If he did end up burning himself Harvey wasn't asleep just yet, right? He'd probably be fine. He cautiously picks up the object, finding it to be - surprisingly - not as hot as he thought. It was fairly large, having to be held with two hands, and seemed to be glowing a soft blue aura. It's exterior was rather dark, with dull white spikes protruding out the sides. Although he tried to pull it apart it was no use – whatever it was, it was rather sturdy.

“Damn you're heavy.” Rayzan mutters as he stares at the egg-shaped object in his hands. He looks up, pondering to himself about what to do with this thing. He begins heading back up towards town, only to be interrupted by Maru.

“Oh my yoba – I could hear that crash from across TOWN! To think something actually hit the ground! And you're holding it!” Maru begins rambling off, clapping her hands together. “Can I see it? That doesn't look like any meteor I've ever heard of, but of course space is really vast and there could be plenty of different-”

“Whoa, whoa. Listen, if you want this thing take it. I don't know what to do with it.” Rayzan begins trying to hand it off, only for it to stab him in the arm. “What the fuck?”

“Oh- Oh dear, are you okay?” Maru widens her eyes, frantically trying to grab it again – only for the object to protest yet again. Rayzan grunts in pain, nodding.

“Maybe we should... not. Do that.” He hisses as he carefully sets it down – thankfully it lets him do that – before rubbing at his wrists. “Fuck, what is that thing?”

“Well, I'm not entirely sure... It seems at least somewhat sentient though, don't you think? Exciting!” Maru grins before turning her attention back to him. “...Right, we should get you to the clinic.” She reaches down to pick it up off the floor, only for it to spray some form of mist into the air. “AH!” She exclaims as she stumbles back, holding a hand over her face. “Okay! You pick it up!”

“I'm not touching that thing again!”

“We have to at least move it somewhere no one else can get hurt.” Maru insists, rubbing at her eyes. Rayzan grunts and picks up the foreign object, carrying it in his arms as he follows her to the clinic.

Harvey looks up from his paperwork as the door opens, raising an eyebrow. “I thought I locked... Oh, Maru, hello- Are you okay? What is- Rayzan are you bleeding?” He gets up frantically, moving around the counter.

“I'm fine, he might need stitches. Don't... touch that thing.” Maru aggressively points to the object. “I need to go wash out my eyes.” She motions vaguely in the air before walking off. Harvey blinks a few times before looking back towards Rayzan as he sets the object in a waiting room chair.

“Alright... well, let's get you sorted. I'll... call Gunther and let him know about this also.” Harvey furrows his brow, walking Rayzan back towards the examination room. “What happened, exactly?”

“I don't know. That thing fucking... Grabbed me when I tried to give it to Maru.” Rayzan hisses in pain as Harvey looks over his wounds.

“These look pretty deep – did it get you anywhere else?”

“Not that I can tell.” He shakes his head as Harvey frowns. “I feel kind of... sick, though.”

“Hopefully that's just from blood loss and it didn't inject you with anything.” Harvey notes before gathering everything necessary.

---

Rayzan wakes up in one of the hospital beds in the morning and groans as he sits up. “...So that wasn't a dream. Fuck.” He looks down at his bandaged arms with a frown. Harvey comes in with a smile, holding a clipboard close to his chest.

“Well, good news, you aren't going to die.” Harvey smiles before continuing, “You ended up passing out last night so I set you up here. As far as I could tell, there's nothing lethal in your blood stream either. Maru and Gunther are in the waiting room discussing the...” Harvey trails off for a moment, “Well, if you'd like to talk to them, you're free to. Be sure to keep those bandaged though, alright? And I wouldn't advise any excessive movement... If you need any pain killers, let me know.”

Rayzan nods, pushing himself out of the bed. “Yeah, thanks doc.” He mutters and heads into the waiting room.

“Oh! Mr. Rayzan, it's always a pleasure to see you. This is certainly an interesting specimen you've found here!” Gunther smiles as he stands up straighter.

“Yeah, and it tried to fucking kill me. Can't you take the yoba damn thing to the museum or something where I don't have to look at it?” He glares at it, crossing his arms over his chest before wincing and simply putting them down by his sides.

“Ah... I was looking into that, actually. It seems it's imprinted on you somehow and is rather territorial about it.”

“It's done what? I'm not a damn mother duck or something! If that shit turns out to be an alien I'm not taking care of it.” Rayzan protests angrily, leaning against the counter.

“If it would let me I'd take it off your hands after it hatches or... whatever it's going to do, but until then no one can touch it.” Maru frowns as she looks over at him. “I guess you could just drop it off somewhere, but there's no guarantee it still won't try to find you once it hatches...” There's a pause. “Though I'm absolutely open for helping you out with it as much as I can! Maybe we can be co-parents of it!” She laughs, though it doesn't last long as she sees Rayzan's expression. She clears her throat as she looks away. “Up to you, of course.”

“I'm probably just gonna drop the thing in the river or something. Maybe it'll float off to wherever. Or better yet, drown.”

“Mr. Rayzan, sir, if I may interrupt, I don't think that's such a good idea.” Gunther speaks up. “We don't know anything about this creature – it could be invasive to the local environment. It's better to keep it close so we can learn more about it.”

“Then you take it!” Rayzan picks up a wooden crate, then sets the object inside of it. “There. Yours now. Have fun with your murder egg.” He shoves the box into Gunther's arms and storms towards the door.

“Rayzan!” Maru shouts, but frowns as she turns back towards Gunther. “I think we're on our own here.”

Gunther nods, “It seems so...” He looks down at the object, then nods towards her. “I'll take this over to the museum for now and try to figure out what it likes... Perhaps find a sun lamp.”

Rayzan rolls his eyes as he slams the door behind him. He heads towards the saloon, grabbing his frozen pizza out of the freezer before making the journey home. He'd be glad to sleep in his own bed again.

#my writing #my ocs #rayzan #stardew valley #sdv #dont @ me i based this off a dream i had last night that wouldnt get out of my brain <3

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