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#for anyone whose been a fan of these two for more then few hours none of this is news
sydsaint · 5 months
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This is a part 2 for my last Damian fic linked here.
Summary: The reader agrees to grab a drink with Damian and learns there's more to the archer of infamy than meets the eye.
Fresh off of an episode of Raw, you reluctantly stop at the hotel bar instead of heading straight to your room like you normally would.
The bar is quiet, which is expected for a Monday night. A few of your co-workers from Raw are there, but it's no one you care to interact with. Your eyes scan the bar and land on the man you begrudgingly came looking for. Damian Priest.
"Hey, sorry I'm late." You walk over to Damian who whose a dark table in the corner of the bar for your meet-up.
"Thinking about ditching me?" Damian asks you with a playful chuckle.
A hint of a smile plays on your lips as you sit down across from him. "Maybe...yeah." You confirm with a nod. "But you've come to my rescue twice now. So I guess the least I could do is grab a drink with you, right?" You laugh to yourself.
"Hey, you don't owe me anything, Y/N." Damian replies. "Yeah, I helped you out with that douche, Giovonni Vinci. But I wasn't trying to guilt you into having a drink with me."
"Damian!" You put a hand up and stop his speech. "It's okay! I know that I didn't have to come if I didn't want to. You didn't force me into anything." You assure him. "I wanted to come."
Damian nods in relief and you see him relax again. You order yourself a drink and get back to your impromptu date.
"So..." You awkwardly play with your glass after it's been delivered.
"So." Damian teasingly repeats you with a smile.
You bite the inside of your cheek and shake your head. "I'm sorry, it's been ages since I've been out with anyone." You explain sheepishly. "Especially not someone who's besties with my conniving cousin and his evil girlfriend." You joke.
Damian chuckles at your attempt at a joke and picks up his drink. "It's alright, mami." He assures you. "Truthfully, It's been a while since I've been out too." He admits.
You quirk a brow at Damian's confession. "Really?" You question him. "I have to say, I'm surprised. I'd have thought you'd be fending off girls left and right."
"Eh." Damian shrugs. "I get plenty of thirsty girls on in my DM's and at shows. But I'm really not the type of guy to be interested in groupies." He explains further. "I'm a one-girl type of guy. You know?"
"Yeah, I get that." You nod. "When I was wrestling in Mexico I had guys trying to get with me left and right. Fans and colleagues. But none of them were looking for a serious relationship, you know?" You share your own dating experiences with Priest.
Damian agrees with a nod and the two of you share a couple more drinks. After a couple of hours of chatting and really getting to know one another outside of your work persona, you decide to call it a night.
"I'll admit, this was nice." You inform Damian as you're both getting ready to leave.
"Yeah, it was." Damian agrees. "We should do it again sometime. Maybe dinner?" He suggests.
You bite the inside of your cheek again, unsure of how to respond. You like Damian. He's charming and funny. Not to mention attractive. But the fact that he's so close with Dominick and the rest of the judgment day still bothers you. You don't want to let your guard down only for Priest to ultimately let his allegiance to judgment day get in the way.
"Damian, I-" You start to speak when suddenly someone with a thick Irish accent calls Damian's name loudly.
Your head snaps to the entrance of the bar and your heart sinks when you see Finn and JD staring at you and Damian.
"Oh no." Your eyes widen and you quickly get to your feet. "Shit! I knew this was going to happen." You run a frustrated hand over your face.
"Hey, it's alright." Damian stands with you but remains calm and collected.
You look at Priest who is now making intense eye contact with Finn and JD. He steps up to your side in a protective manner when Finn and JD start making their way across the bar.
"Damian! Mate! What are you doing here with her?" Finn confronts Damian when he makes it across the bar.
"Y/N and I were just sharing a drink," Damian replies casually. "Why?"
Finn and JD both look at you and then back at Damian. "Did you forget who she is?" JD speaks up and you see Damian's jaw twitch from the corner of your eye.
"I'm aware of who she is, yes." Damian answers JD's question.
"Rhea's not going to like this, mate." Finn shakes his head.
Not wanting to start a fight between friends, you clear your throat and speak up. "I think I'm just going to go now." You nod to the door. "Thank you for the drink, Damian." You smile at Priest before moving to walk off.
"Y/N, hold on a minute." Damian catches you before you walk off. "Let me walk you back to your room." He insists.
"Damian!" Finn protests.
You remain still and watch Damian clench his fist in frustration. "Look, Finn. I don't give a damn who Y/N is when she's at work. We ain't working right now, are we?" He reminds everyone. "Now you can either step off and let me walk the lady back to her hotel room. Or I can make you move."
Finn and JD share another look before both of them step out of the way. Damian offers his arm to you and you take it before both of you walk off.
"Rhea's going to find out about this, mate!" Finn shouts at you both as you walk off.
"Let her!" Damian snaps back, his gaze remaining ahead of him. "But ain't no one going to touch a hair on Y/N's head. Not while I'm around." He insists.
Your heart skips a beat as you walk off with Damian. You're a bit taken aback by his sudden protectiveness of you. But you don't exactly hate it either.
Damian walks you up to your hotel room and stops at the door. You silently fish out your keycard from your purse and unlock the door.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there." Damian rubs the back of his neck. "It's just...I like you Y/N. And I hate that Finn and everyone else is acting so damn childish about all of this!" He adds in frustration. "We're all adults. They shouldn't give a damn about who I'm getting drinks with."
"It's alright." You shake your head. "I like you too, Damian. I'd really like to get dinner sometime if that's alright. To hell with my idiotic cousin, right?" You joke.
Damian cracks a smile and nods. "Right. I'll message you later so we can make dinner plans." He adds. "Until then, have a good night, Y/N."
"You too, Damian." You agree and, after feeling a sudden burst of confidence, you stretch up to your tiptoes and kiss his cheek.
Damian chuckles and leans down a bit so you're not struggling to reach his face. You kiss his cheek properly and flash him a smile before slipping into your hotel room.
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lilsunflower95 · 5 months
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It's Just a Crush: Chapter 2 ~ 30 Hours
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Pairing: Soloist!Taehyung x actress!OC
Genre: Fluff
Rating: T - SFW
Word Count: 2,403
Warnings: none
Disclaimers: This is just fiction and not my true view of anyone.
Summary: Taehyung and Hyori practice their Spanish and get to know each other on the flight to Mexico.
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AO3
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“Ah….” Mei skimmed the message that had just come through on her phone. She smirked and laid it face down on her lap as Hyori looked up from the language app on her own phone. “Mr. Kang has advised that our flight will last approximately 30 hours with two layovers. The first will be in Los Angeles, and the second will be in Mexico City. We’ll have tonight to settle in and filming will start Sunday. There will be a game at first to see who will be a chef and who will be doing other tasks. If you want to do a trial run of your recipe, we can arrive on set an hour early.”
“Yes, I think that would be wise.” Hyori nodded and glanced out her window as the city raced past her. “It’s been a while since I’ve cooked. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my own home. It’s been a long time for you too.”
“But worth it.” Mei smiled, putting her hand on Hyori’s arm.
Hyori returned the smile and glanced back out the window when the SUV pulled into the airport and began maneuvering towards the private tarmac. “We’re not doing a photoshoot? Who else is here?”
She twisted in her seat as lights strobed near the entrance she would usually go to. 
“No, not this time.” Mei typed quickly on her phone, her lips pulling down as she clenched her teeth as if she could obscure her smile.
“What’s funny?” Mei looked up with an arched brow. “Mei… tell me, please? What’s funny?”
“Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Her nails began clicking on the screen faster as the private jet came into view. “The hotel is gorgeous as always. There’s even a hot tub that overlooks the bay. I’m sure after this flight, that’s going to be a delight!”
“You’re hiding something.” Hyori watched the jet come into view as a light rain began to fall.
“No!” Mei put a hand to her throat as though she were offended. “Why would you say such a thing? I’m innocence personified.”
“That’s exactly what a liar would say.” Hyori chuckled and frowned when the vehicle drove around the plane where another SUV was parked. “Who is that? What’s going on?”
Mei shrugged a shoulder as then went back to typing on her phone. 
“Mei… tell me.” Hyori’s voice became more firm as she glanced out the window again, her heart beginning to throb in her ears. “What’s happening? Who is that?”
“Relax. It’s just Taehyung.”
“Tae… what?” Her shoulders sank as a man with impeccably gelled hair in a black suit stepped to the side to reveal Taehyung. His hair was lightly curled, his red button-down had the top few buttons undone to tantalize his fans and had been tucked into a sleek pair of black trousers. “Oh no.”
“Relax. You said you wanted to get better at improv.”
“Not like this. Mei!” Hyori whined before taking a deep breath and gathering her things as the vehicle pulled to a stop. “I’m going to look like such a fool. Whose brilliant idea was this? This is because of the fashion show last month, isn't it? Is this a rumor online? Was I put into this to draw views in some kind of ‘will they won’t they’ thing?”
“Relax. Be you. This is gonna be great! Now get out.” Mei pushed her as the driver opened the door for her and held his hand out to help her down.
He’s gorgeous. How am I going to do this? I’m going to be such a googly eyed…. No. No. You’re an actress. A very good actress. Right? Yes. You’ve won a ton of awards. So do what you do best and act. Ready? Set. Scene.
Hyori took a deep breath and fixed a smile upon her face as Taehyung turned to greet her. 
She refused to let her knees go weak or her shoulders slump in adoration or to let her eyes go dreamy when he smiled at her.
“Miss Yoo, I’m Kim Taehyung.” Taehyung bowed to her and then took her hand when the two straightened up. His hand was warm and softer than she thought they’d be. She’d seen so many videos of him in his exercise room. She thought they’d be roughened up from lifting weights or pull-ups. “It’s an honor to meet you at last. I’m a fan of your work.”
“Oh, why thank you very much! I’m a fan of yours as well.” She glanced up as Mei held an umbrella up over her. “We should get on the plane.”
“Après vous.” Taehyung motioned to the ladder, the slender bracelets he wore catching her eye before her smile returned.
“Oh thank you.” She and Mei ascended the ladder and sighed when they stepped into the quiet and warm cabin. You speak French?”
“Just a little. Not as much as you do, though.” Taehyung chuckled and took a seat across from her, brushing his hair from his face as he kicked one foot out and rubbed his knee. “I was assured knowing what I do would help with a crash course in Spanish.”
“Ah, then you and I are in the same boat. I downloaded an app.”
“As did I.” He shrugged and glanced down at his phone as you buckled your belt. “But, I’ve always found it easier to study languages with other people.”
What did that mean? Did he… was he…? With her? Was she overthinking?
She was aware of her eyes growing wide as Mei nudged her elbow into her ribs, bringing her back to reality and into action.
“Well, I don’t know much myself, but if you’d like to practice with me, I’d appreciate the help.”
Taehyung looked at her from beneath his lashes, a smile slowly blossoming on his lips as he leaned towards her. He swayed slightly as his tongue found the corner of his mouth, sending her heart into outer space. “That’d be great. Thank you.”
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A soft snore beside Hyori drew her attention away from the flash card on her phone. She looked at Hyori and held a hand over her mouth to hide a giggle. She looked back over at Taehyung and pointed, pushing herself as far back into her seat as she could as he peered around her. “Mei fell asleep.”
“So did Seungheon.” Taehyung motioned with his thumb to his assistant who had his head resting against the wall with his arms crossed his chest.
Hyori stood and motioned for him to follow her a few seats ahead where she turned the soft overhead light on as he sank into the seat beside her.
She sat in silence, a smile playing on her lips as she realized how brave she was being in the moment and ran her hand down the length of her thigh to smooth her black pants before looking up at his patient expression. He’d been so kind, she’d been disarmed and relieved to be vulnerable in her quest to learn enough of a new language to get by. “I thought since it’s just us right now, we could use this time to get to know each other a bit better before the show starts.”
“Sure. What would you like to know?”
She swallowed and licked her lips. “Well… If you had three words to describe your current mindset, what would they be?”
“Hmm… I would say creative, adventurous, and flexible. My turn.” He crossed his legs towards her and rested his arm on the arm rest between them. “If you could wake up tomorrow and possess any new skill, what would it be?”
“Oh… um….” Hyori searched the ceiling of the plane for a moment, tilting her head thoughtfully. “I’d love to be able to restore furniture and make it my own style.”
“Oh, I never would have thought of that, but that’s fascinating.”
Hyori nodded and looked away shyly as she rubbed her palm with her thumb. “Who do you look up to the most?”
“Easy. My grandmother. She was kind to everyone but didn’t put up with nonsense. She held her boundaries and took care of everyone. She helped raise me and I’m very grateful to have had her in my life. She inspires me even today when I’m self-aware enough to do some introspection.”
“Ah, I think I understand. You can take a step back and ask yourself if your behavior would live up to your grandmother’s standards.”
“Exactly.” He nodded and laced his fingers together as he put his hand on his knee. “What is your zombie apocalypse survival philosophy?”
“Zombies?” Hyori laughed and crossed her legs towards him. “My knee jerk reaction would be to run away and make a tree house or go live out on the ocean. Can dolphins and sharks become zombies?”
Taehyung’s eyes went wide. “I’ve never thought of that before. Does it scientifically make sense for zombism to be only a human disease?”
“Isn’t there a fungus that takes over insects like ants?”
“You’re right! And I heard there was a fungus that could infect humans now too.” Taehyung shook his head with a cringe. “I guess if it can happen to humans and ants, maybe it’s not too far off to think it could affect marine life too.”
“Zombie sharks…” Hyori mused for a moment. “I suppose, getting back to the main question, after having a bit of a panic and breaking down, I’d regroup and try and get people together to form a new community until we can discover how to end the crises.”
“That’s probably all one really could do.”
A comfortable silence fell between them for a long while until Mr. Do, the flight attendant came up and leaned towards them to whisper. “We’ll be landing in about 30 minutes. It’s currently 23 degrees and nice and clear. Refueling will take approximately one hour.”
“Thank you, Mr. Do.” Taehyung looked back to Hyori as she cleared her throat and Mr. Do left them.
“I have one more question, if you don’t mind.” 
“Not at all. I have one more question for you too.”
Hyori giggled and fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt as she looked up at him. “What accomplishment are you most proud of?” 
He opened his mouth to speak, but paused to stare at her necklace before chuckling and shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ve told anyone this, not my mom or best friend, but I almost quit music last year.”
“Did you really?” Hyori’s eyes went wide as she twisted to look better at him as he nodded.
“Yes, I did. But then things started to really take off and now I feel like I’m on top of the world. If it hadn’t been for the fashion show… you would be having this discussion with someone else.” 
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you persisted. I very much enjoy your music.
He shifted closer towards her. “What’s your favorite song?”
“Easy. Purple.” She grinned up at him when his face lit up at the name of the song he’d released after the fashion show that had landed him several awards and the international fame he was now enjoying.
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“Oh, that was a good trill!” Hyori’s eyes went wide as Taehyung finally rolled his ‘r’ and looked over at him from her phone. He practiced a few more times before he tipped his head back and pressed his hand to his brow with a sigh. She nodded and closed the app. “I think this is a good stopping point. We made good progress.”
“We did.” He cracked his neck and sat up straight. “So, tell me, how long have you known about this? The show I mean.”
“I just found out last night. Well, the other night now I suppose.” She checked her watch, amazed at the length of time that had passed since they’d left.
“The other night? Seriously?” His brows rose up incredulously.
“Yes, it was very much a surprise, but a welcomed one. I finished filming that day and was worried I’d get bored with nothing else lined up afterwards. I like to think that this was kept from me to let me focus on one thing at a time. Filming had a whole host of problems and was much more stressful than other movies I’ve done.”
He gave a hum and pouted his bottom lip. “Then I shall have to make sure you’re well looked after this week.”
Her eyes went wide as her cheeks went warm. Beside her Mei gripped her shirt in her fist as tightly as she dared. “Oh, you don’t have….”
“No, no.” He held his hand up and looked away from her. “I insist.”
Mei drummed her fist excitedly against Hyori’s back while casually flipping the page in her book as Hyori smiled shyly.
“Thank you Taehyung. That’s very sweet of you.”
“My pleasure.”
“Oh, look at this!” Mei broke the tension between Hyori and Taehyung as she snapped her book shut and pulled the shade up entirely. 
Hyori and Taehyung leaned over to look out the window as the plane’s shadow over the brilliant teal water grew larger and larger.
“Look at the water! Oh, it’s gorgeous. I hope filming isn’t too strict and that we’ll have time to go out and explore.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a tall, slender steward with broad shoulders stopped in front of them as they looked up at him, “we’ll be landing in 15 minutes. After, it will only take a few minutes for us to complete our final checks before you can disembark. Transportation is waiting for you at the airport to take you to your hotels.”
“Thank you very much Mr. Do.” Taehyung smiled and gave a small bow.
“Taehyung,” Mr. Sung interjected before the silence that promised to be tense could settle between the two, “you’ll be doing a brief photoshoot. You should get ready before we land.”
Taehyung nodded and stood, following his stylist to the rear of the plane where there was a small bedroom.
As soon as the door closed, Hyori released a breath and sank into the back of her chair.
“No photoshoot for you. Just straight to the hotel and to that incredible hot tub.” Mei kept her voice soft as she leaned in close to Hyori. “You did really well. I’m proud of you.”
“I’m proud of myself too.”
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Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed!
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If you'd like to be added, please let me know! 🥰
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paperhatcollection · 2 years
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You know, one of the fun things about looking into the subway twins in the aftermath of PLA (and as someone who tends to skip the battle subway in B&W) has been realizing just what fun characters they are. The two share one brain cell whenever they’re in a room together. Literally, speaking the same lines and doing the same actions in sync. Even when apart, they tend to gravitate to the same ideas and wants (granted, in their own ways), the same kinds of Pokemon, and fixate on the same objects. Which- yeah. They’re identical twins. That tracks.
It’s when they’re apart that the differences start to accumulate.
On one hand, you’ve got Ingo: the one with a perpetual frown on his face, wears darker clothing, and whose primary partner Pokemon is presented as the floating goth ghost chandelier: Chandelure. (Fun fact they’ve both got one- in fact the majority of their Pokemon overlap, but most media (and fanwork) depicts Chandelure as being one of Ingo’s).
At a glance, you’d expect him to be serious and formal at best- until you walk into his train at the end of the single battles and he starts cheerfully introducing himself and excitedly starts the battle, or when you beat him and he applauds your victory and cheers you on. Or in Pokemon Masters, where he’s actively distraught by the fact people have trouble reading his facial expressions and so will loudly explain how excited he is and how much he loves battling whenever he enters a room.
Even in PLA, where he’s rediscovering who he is along with everyone else, he still clearly enjoys the same hobbies- not only fights himself, but seeing other people have great battles. He’ll just straight up have a heart to heart about his personal feelings and predicament with a stranger he just met an hour ago, can’t resist a smile from a good battle, and despite the fact he’s clearly lost the light behind his eyes, is still such a friendly, helpful soul who genuinely wants to see the best in everyone. (it would be so funny to see the reactions of the PLA crew seeing normal-Ingo and what an aggressively friendly ball of sunshine he actually is. It’s just something missing from most ‘Ingo is reunited with his brother and memories’ fics).
Then on the other hand, you’ve got Emmet. The Subway Boss who drifts through life with a smile on his face, wears lighter clothing, and whose primary Pokemon is a big poofy colorful dumb looking bird whose better at running then flying. And whose most famous line (I like winning more then anything’) is one of the longest sentences he says to the player in the original game.
In contrast to his brother, Emmet speaks in clipped, factual statements. While loving his Pokemon and battling, he views his team through a very strategic lens, wanting the best, perfect combination of moves and strategies. Even when you beat him, he announces how much fun he had fighting you in the same matter-of-fact way he has of speaking (he lost. You are verrrrry strong) and ends on a very simple note that you should ‘ride the trains more often!’. In Pokemon Masters, he’s much more detail orientated then his brother, questioning the Player for all sorts of details about the location and what they look for in a good battle. He’s still very clearly excited to fight the Player, and to bring the Battle Subway to a new location, but has a very ‘there is nothing in life more important then winning’ attitude that’s just barely friendly enough to stop him from having a threatening aura. It’s also worth noting that, despite the two of them both sharing the same title, Emmet talks about how much he looks up to his brother and respects him as both a trainer and in individual.
When you fight both of them in B&W, Ingo will have a whole conversation with the player about the nature of team battles and trusting in your partner as much as you trust yourself. Emmet has a serious of short quips that are no more then three words each. We get the feeling that, where his brother has trouble expressing himself with his facial expressions and falls back onto his words so that people’ll understand him, Emmet has trouble expressing himself with his words and has learned to use his facial expression to project how excited he is outwardly- large smile, over the top gestures despite his simple sentences, a sparkle in his eye so that people are actually willing to approach him and don’t get scared off by this ultra-stern rules abiding boss at the end of a train.
When you beat them together, Emmet comments on you having a good combination and being strong, and it being a fun battle. Ingo applauds the player but also reminds them that beating the two of them was only one milestone in their life, and actively encourages them to go on to do even greater things further down the line. Emmet seems like a very here-and-now kinda guy, focusing on the life that’s in front of him, while Ingo is focused on the line ahead and what he can do now to prevent regret in the past. (Which is ironic, isn't it?).
Also if you search up clips of the two from the B&W anime, one of the only straight clips you can find is a 30 second clip of them investigating someone (*coughteamrocketcough*) messing with the subway. In it, Ingo wants to get to solve the mystery to protect the city and the people who use the subway. Emmet focuses on holding the guilty party responsible. They also naturto run on the subway tracks, which is very important.
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shurisneakers · 3 years
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if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!
a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj
warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
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Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist
Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.
“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”
“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.
“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”
“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”
“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”
“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.
“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”
“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”
“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”
Ah, fuck.
“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.
“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”
“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”
Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.
“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.
“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”
“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.
____
“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.
“What could I possibly get you?”
“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.
“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”
“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."
“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.
“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”
He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.
“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”
He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.
“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”
“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”
“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”
“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.
“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.
“It’s none of your busi-”
“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”
His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.
“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.
“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.
“I’m literally asking you.”
“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.
“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”
“Like Pandora’s Box?”
“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”
He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.
“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.
“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.
“Sir, you’re a geriatric."
“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.
“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”
He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”
“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”
“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”
“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”
“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.
“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”
“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”
“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”
“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.
“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.
“I want this to get over before this evening.”
“What time’s your date?”
“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.
“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”
“Five o’clock, now let go.”
“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.
“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 
You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.
A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.
“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.
Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.
“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.
“I told you; bad luck in a box.”
“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”
“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”
He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.
“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”
He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.
“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.
“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”
He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.
____
Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.
He isn’t used to having his weekends free.
He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.
His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.
It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.
The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.
He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.
He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.
He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.
“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.
They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.
He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.
The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.
Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.
He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.
Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.
He was sure he picked it up.
He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.
This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.
Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.
His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.
“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”
“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.
See? Good luck.
He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.
He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.
He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.
He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.
He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.
He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.
“Is everything okay?”
Fuck.
He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.
“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”
He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.
He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.
He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.
He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.
His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.
Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.
The box.
He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.
Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.
He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.
Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.
He fucking trips again.
“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”
He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.
Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.
No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.
He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.
There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.
There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.
There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.
The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.
Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.
The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.
He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.
“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.
He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.
“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”
Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.
The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.
It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.
The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.
Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.
The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.
He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.
Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.
Motherfu-
He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.
“James?”
“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”
“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.
“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."
“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.
“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.
“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.
“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.
“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”
“You must be really dehydrated."
Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”
He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.
“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”
He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.
“I, uh,-”
“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.
“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.
His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.
However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.
He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.
“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.
“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”
He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.
“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”
“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”
It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.
He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.
But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.
He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.
“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”
Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”
He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.
He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.
He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.
Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.
It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.
Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.
He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.
He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.
Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.
The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.
The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?
His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.
The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.
When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.
There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.
He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.
But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.
The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.
“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.
“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”
When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-
“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”
“I need you to fix whatever this is.”
“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.
There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.
The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.
The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.
He should have known. He should have fucking known.
Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.
In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.
It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?
There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.
It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.
But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.
He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.
The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.
His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.
“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”
He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”
“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.
It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.
“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.
“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”
“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”
He hesitates. “I guess?”
“Was she nice?”
“Yeah.” Where was this going.
“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”
“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”
“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”
“Just fix it.”
“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.
He waits for you to do something.
You flick him on the forehead.
“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”
What.
He says exactly what he’s thinking.
You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”
Huh?
“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”
He’s confused.
“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”
“The shoelaces?”
“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”
His face scrunches in puzzlement.
“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”
He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.
“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”
“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”
He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.
“What about the fucking geese?”
You pause for a second. “The geese?”
“And the elevator.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”
“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”
“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”
“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”
“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”
He nods briskly.
“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”
“Perfume?”
“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”
“It wasn’t an inator?”
“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.
“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.
“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”
“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?
“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.
Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.
“Wait here a second.”
You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.
“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."
He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.
You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.
He reluctantly extends it towards you.
“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”
You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.
“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”
“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”
“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”
“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”
“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”
He scoffs. “Thanks.”
You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.
He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.
“Bucky.”
He turns around.
There’s a hint of a smile on your face.
“Take the stairs.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice.
Next part
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illogicalpunkwrites · 3 years
Text
What Water Gave Me
Hello everyone! This one is...interesting. I dunno, have fun! Thank you for reading and please let me know if you would like to be tagged!
Pairings: Leonard McCoy x Kirk!Reader
Rating: M (18+)
Warning: Sex pollen, smut, ABO dynamics, cursing, angst
Words: 4.4K
Tags: @bloodangelballerina @theweepingvulcan91
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None of you found out about it until it was too late. Visiting a new planet was always exciting, especially when it was far different from Earth. None of the biologists knew what would happen when the crew drank the water until the first person started showing symptoms. That first person was none other than
your brother and the captain, Jim Kirk. He started behaving erratically, nearly pushing over other people to make sure Carol wasn’t messed with. She started to sweat and you hurried over to pull them away from each other. While you and Jim used to rough house in your younger days, you weren’t used to him actually trying to fight you. He got a couple of hits in, some of them really hurting you before you were able to gather yourself.
“Jim!” You yelped as he swung at you again, ducking just in time. You swept your leg out from under him, sending him to the ground so some members of your security team could hurriedly incapacitate him.
“No! Let him go!” Carol sobbed.
“Get Jim to his quarters and lock him in using the override!” You barked. You made a hysterical Carol sit down in the Captain’s chair and wiped her forehead. She started squirming in the seat and you kept trying to ask her questions, but she only called for Jim. Calling him…alpha?
“Uhura, call Bones and tell him what’s going on. Tell the same thing to Science Division.” You didn’t hear a response and looked over the top of the chair. “Nyota?” She was fanning herself, looking at Spock whose knuckles were blanched white as he gripped the console. “Sulu, can you leave your station for a minute and get Spock to his quarters? He might try to fight you but he seems okay right now.” He was the right person to ask. With what information you gathered, anyone who had any sort of partner was susceptible to what was going on. Luckily, his was back on Earth.
“What do you think’s going on?”
“I’m not sure, I’ll get those two back to their quarters and call medbay-”
“Sciences to Bridge.” The console beeped in and you sighed.
“This is Commander Kirk, report.” You demanded, already overwhelmed with what little you had dealt with in such a short amount of time.
“We’ve tested some samples from the planet and found something interesting. The water contains some sort of hormone that-“
“Drives people insane?”
“It establishes A/B/O dynamics within the population.”
“What the hell does that mean?” You asked incredulously.
“Alpha, Beta, and Omega dynamics, Commander.” Spock explained, his voice strained as Sulu led him to the elevator.
“No don’t take him!” Nyota got up to head towards the elevator but you jumped over to grab the back of her dress. “No! Alpha!” The doors closed and you let her go to nearly paw at them. Her dress was soaked through with sweat and a puddle of…something was forming underneath her.
“Medbay to bridge!” Leonard’s voice came through, sounding frustrated and tired.
“Bones, it’s (Y/N)! What’s going on?”
“I’ve got people trying to kill me down here on one side of the room and people crying on the other.”
“Are they all couples?”
“Most of them, their partners came and found them. I don’t think they liked me being near ‘em”
“We need to get everyone affected in their quarters, apparently the water establishes A/B/O dynamics.”
“My god.” He groaned. Normally, you would’ve laughed but you were highly stressed.
“I’ll send a security team down there to help out. Kirk out.” You explained before switching over to the ship wide intercom. “This is Security Commander Kirk, I need all personnel that drank water from Ni-bu to go to their private quarters immediately. If you do not follow orders you will be forcibly moved by security. I repeat, leave your stations and return to your quarters immediately.” You ended the call and grabbed Nyota and Carol. You got into the elevator and pulled out your communicator. “Kirk to Sciences division, please tell me there’s a cure for this thing.”
“We’ll have to go to K-7 for that, good thing is we’re not the only ones that have dealt with this. There was another planet like the one we were at that The Pegasus had to deal with.”
“Alright, I’ll tell Chek-“ You stopped and shook your head, knowing how flirtatious the Russian was. “I’ll get back up there and set the coordinates.” Pulling your friends along was like pulling two feisty Chihuahuas: they kept pulling away from you, kept yelping for their alphas, and at one point Carol actually bit you. Once that chore was done, you sprinted back up to the bridge to put in the coordinates and called for Sulu.
“Hikaru, you alright?”
“A little scraped up but I’m fine. Security’s doing a good job down here, some of your workers are affected by it though.”
“You think you can stay down there and help them out? I’m working on getting Bridge settled down.”
“You got it, but you owe me big time.”
“Next round’s on me when we get to K-7.” You chuckled before calling out. “Alright Chekov, let’s-“
“ENGINEERING TO BRIGE!” Jaylah screeched and your blood left your body. You had nearly forgotten about engineering. A large section of them went to Ni-bu to help fix some of the infrastructure and technology.
“Jaylah, are you alright?”
“Everyone down here is going crazy! Security is here but there is not nearly enough of them! I need help!”
“Where’s Scotty?”
“He went to go find Lieutenant Mira!” You groaned and grabbed Chekov by the back of his shirt while some other people from security grabbed most of the bridge.
“I’ll be down there as soon as I can, keep doing what you’re doing!”
XXXXXX
Hours later, the whole situation was defused with everyone who was affected locked in their rooms. Those who didn’t seem affected, the Betas, roamed around the halls like dead men walking. Sanitation swept and mopped the halls where puddles of “slick” had been left. You dragged your feet and nearly your entire body ached by the amount of times you had either been rammed into, hit, or bit by your crew mates. You saw Sulu and you gave each other a congratulatory hug.
“You owe me so much more than a round of drinks. This is not in my job description.” He mumbled, making you laugh.
“Thank you so much.” While most of your team had been okay, it had dwindled down severely by the time engineering was wrangled off. Scotty surprised you with how wily he was, giving you a run for your money. Thankfully, Jaylah helped you out and you threw him into his office.
Sulu pulled away and looked up and down at you, you had some cuts here and there and were bruised up. While it wasn’t the worst your body had faced, you’d still seen better days.
“Go to Medbay, Kirk. Your job is done for now and I’m sure McCoy could see a friendly face.” You smiled weakly and made your way down. When you came to the door it didn’t slide open so you knocked instead.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me! Lemme in!” After a few beeps on the PADD, the door slid open and you hurried in before it locked back behind you. You saw Leonard at his desk with a bottle of whiskey. His shirt was torn in some places and you could see the beginnings of a black eye. “Well, Doc, you look like you had an eventful day.” He snorted in response and poured you a glass.
“Please tell me we’ll get to K-7 soon.”
“We should be there by tomorrow morning. Sulu’s gonna get some rest before so he can get us in. I think the plan is for medbay to come to us to give us the hypospray.” You explained and took a large gulp, feeling the burn go down your throat. Leonard looked at the bruise on your jaw and you shrugged.
“It was Jim, nothing I can’t handle.”
“And the bites?”
“Carol, Scotty, and some others I can’t even remember.”
“Scotty bit you?”
“I had him in a choke hold.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “The female Alphas gave me a run for my money.”
“I think I can add this to the list of reasons why I hate space.” He finished up his drink and went to go grab a med kit to sterilize the wounds. You’d have to wait a couple of days to get the scars removed.
“Because it makes people unbelievably horny?” He laughed at that one, making you smile. “I’m glad that it wasn’t a free for all though, people were focused on either their partners or the people they’ve had a crush on.”
“My god I don’t even want to imagine what it would’ve been like if it’d been a free for all.”
“But I’m surprised, Len. You struck me as an Alpha.” You joked.
“I thought you’d be an Alpha.” He retorted. “You’re the one the one that fights everything.”
“I do not! I only fight when it’s needed!”
“Which is why you’re in here so often.” You finished off the whiskey and held out your left arm where one of the bites was. “You need to be more careful.”
“Hey, I didn’t know Carol would bite me!” You replied with a smile.
“I wonder why though? No one tried to bite me.”
“I’m the hotter one of the Kirk siblings?”
“Okay, I’m with you there.”
“I have to say, I like you a little roughed up. You look like an action hero.” He chuckled and knelt on the ground in front of you, antiseptic in hand.
You felt something when he touched you, something stirring within you. You tried to shake it off but you couldn’t as it grew. As he cleaned your wounds you could feel your body temperature rising and you became incredibly uncomfortable. As you looked at him you could see him tense up with his brows furrowing even more than they usually did and his grip on you tightening. You started squirming in your seat, your inner thighs becoming coated with something as you looked at Leonard. Oh god, was that slick? Once he was done with all of the open wounds he put his kit to the side shakily. You realized, even in your foggy state, he was trying to maintain composure. Your slick dripped down to the floor, making it hard for both of you to ignore. Now you realized what you both were and why neither of you had experienced symptoms all day. He was an Alpha, and you were his Omega.
“Leonard.” You whispered, nearly whined. He looked back at you and then to the bruise on your jaw. He brought his fingers to it and pressed on it gently, making you wince.
“You’re burning up.” He stated softly, his breathing picking up and voice gravelly. “You need to leave.”
When he said that, everything in your system freaked out. You leapt on him from the chair, wrapping your arms around his neck and straddling him. He caught you with his fingers against your ribs.
“Leonard, please.” You started kissing his neck, making his fingertips dig into you. He smelled so good, like something homey and warm with a splash of whiskey,  and you couldn’t help but grind yourself against his hard cock. He let out a stuttered moan, his composure melting away as he felt your unbelievably wet pussy against him. “Alpha!” You cried softly.
That’s when it snapped away, Leonard picked you up and you wrapped your legs around him. He hurried over to his private office and you two fell onto his little cot, his lips smashing into yours. You moaned and arched your body into his, wanting as much contact as possible. His tongue slid into your mouth as you kicked your boots off and worked on his shirt.
“Off.” You whimpered. He sat back away from you and pulled down the zipper on your dress before sliding it off of you. You pulled his shirt off and pulled him back to you as he worked on the clasp of your bra.
“Such a pretty little ‘mega.” He slurred before laving his tongue down your bruised jaw, pain not even resonating with you at this point. He dropped your bra to the side, kissing and nipping down your neck and collarbone. His tongue circled around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, kneading the other one with his hand. He was rougher than you thought he would be, teething at your pebbled nipple. You wondered if he was like this all the time. You rocked your hips up against him, wanting more than just that.
“Alpha, please!” You whined, making him chuckle. His hands drifted down the sides of your body to grip the elastic of your panties and pull them down your legs. He started pressing wet kisses down your stomach as his hands spread your legs to slot himself between them. You felt his breath against your pussy and you squirmed towards him, thighs enclosing around his head.
“God, you look-“ He didn’t even finish his sentence before burying his head in between your legs, his tongue circling your clit and tasting your slick. You arched your back and wove your fingers into his hair as an unruly moan escaped you. You felt your pussy growing even wetter and he groaned against you, the vibrations sending ripples through you. He sucked your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it.
“Fuck! Alpha!” He looked up at you as you pulled his hair. “Please, need your cock, need your cock!”
You’d never begged like this before and you were sure you wouldn’t have if you weren’t in this state. He crawled back up your body and you pulled his head down to yours to kiss him, tasting yourself. Your hands shot down to his work pants and you palmed his straining cock, making him gasp into your mouth. You shakily undid the button and zipper before pulling them down and seeing his erection bob against his stomach. Your breathing got even heavier as he helped pull his pants off the rest of the way, his shoes thudding as they hit the ground. You leaned up to kiss and nip at his neck as you stroked his cock, trying to lead him to your pussy.
“Shit darlin’, Omega-“ He cut himself off with a grown and pulled your hand away, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it against your pussy to coat it in slick. You needed more. You locked your legs around his waist and pulled him as close to you as you possibly could. “You ready, my Omega?”
“Please, Alpha.” You whispered as he kissed your forehead. Then you felt his cock enter you slowly, stretching you perfectly and making you keen against him. He breathed out loudly and slowly as he seated himself fully inside of you, your fingernails digging into his back. The both of you stayed just like that for a moment or two, foreheads against each other and breathing heavily. He leaned down to kiss you and you swore you had never felt so loved and protected. You started rocking your hips against his and he took the hint, rolling his hips back so that he was almost completely out of you before rutting back in. “Yes!”
“Feel so good, ‘mega” He slurred against you, starting a slow rhythm. But still you needed more. Your head lolled to the side, exposing your neck to him and he leaned down to suck your pulse point into his mouth. He started thrusting faster into you, hitting that spot inside of you that made you let out high pitched noises into his ear. His pubic bone rubbed against your clit deliciously and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. You felt like you couldn’t even speak anymore as your pussy started tightening even more around him, making him quiver a little. He looked down at you and you brought your hands to his face and neck to caress him more as your body bounced with his thrusts.
“Close, Alpha.” You warned and he leaned down to kiss you. The coil in your lower belly tightened even more and one more perfectly angled thrust did you in, a puddle of slick soaking into the sheets as you felt tingling flood your body. You cried out into Leonard’s mouth as your entire body stiffened with the intensity of your orgasm. Leonard’s thrusts started becoming sloppy and his grip on your body tightened. As you rode your high, something in the back of your mind still wanted more.
“Cum inside me” His eyes widened before gripping your thighs to put your legs over his shoulder, leaning towards you so you were folded. You shrieked out and threw your head back at him suddenly being so unbelievably deep. His arms wrapped around you as you bit his tanned shoulder, making him gasp into your ear and his hips stuttered against yours. With one final deep thrust, you felt his hot cum coat your walls. You whimpered at your oversensitivity but finally felt satiated, almost complete in a way. His body went limp against yours but you didn’t loosen your grip, neither did he. Your fever went away and the slick seemed to have stopped, but you wanting him didn’t.
“Stay.”
XXXXXX
You knew it was early when you woke up, but you weren’t sure how much longer you had before you docked at K-7. You felt sore all over, sticky, and still beyond tired. However, your head was fairly clear and you weren’t feeling feverish. You looked behind you and saw Leonard still asleep with his arm around you. You felt your heart drop as you realized that the night before really did happen, it wasn’t some hormone ridden dream.
You’d always been attracted to Leonard, even if he was a bit neurotic (something you still adored about him). However, you wanted to respect Leonard as a friend, coworker, and best friend of Jim’s. You couldn’t imagine how Jim would feel if you and Leonard started dating. There was also always the dreaded what ifs. What if you two broke up? How would your friends and Jim deal with that? You were also in a high stakes job. What if you seriously got injured, or worse? What if he never even felt the same way?
Also, being completely overrun by foreign hormones was not how you want you two to get together anyway.
So, as you Kirks do, you decided to get out before more awkwardness could come or having to face the difficult consequences of your actions. Luckily, Leonard seemed to be a heavy sleeper but you could feel a fever beginning to creep on you again as his arm tried to tighten on you. You felt your heart ache as even the non-Omega part of you wanted to stay. But if you did, what happened wouldn’t be just between the two of you. Someone would walk in and know what had happened. You didn’t even bother putting on your underwear or shoes, just your red dress before unlocking the doors with his PADD and sneaking back to your quarters to lock yourself in. You were breathing harshly, the fever hitting you pretty hard, and you slid down your door to the ground.
“Computer, air conditioning at full capacity.” The fans whirred around you as you tried not to think of Leonard.
XXXXXX
Leonard woke up with a groan and stretched against his cot. He felt around his bed for you, but shot up when he didn’t find you. He looked around the room and saw that your underwear and boots were still in his room. He kind of wanted to laugh, thinking about how you probably bolted out of there. He thought you were probably embarrassed about the whole thing. A nagging part of his brain said it was probably because you regretted it entirely. He had always liked you, but for the sake of Jim he kept it more friendly and professional. Perhaps it was best to just forget about it. Better that than a repeat of another failed relationship.
“Dr. McCoy? This is Nurse Chapel from the K-7 research lab. We’re here to give you the hypospray.” He hurriedly put on his clothes and kicked your things under the cot before letting the nurse in.
XXXXXX
A couple of days later, you hurried to the bridge to return some reports of the events to Jim. You had avoided medbay like the plague and unbeknownst to you, a couple of friends took notice. As you handed the PADD to Jim, he looked at your healing jaw and cringed once again.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know, asshole, you say it every time you see me.” You chided playfully. He looked at the rest of the scars left on your body from the others and raised an eyebrow at you.
“You can probably get those taken care of, y’know?”
“I know, I just haven’t found the time with writing this shit up.” You replied and he chuckled, waving you away. You smoothed out your skirt and went to the elevator, but Sulu slid in before the doors closed.
“Oh hey! What’s up?”
“What’s up with you? You always get your scars fixed up and Uhura knows for a fact that you’ve had enough time.”
“Are you two gossiping behind my back?” You replied and he crossed his arms at his chest. “Maybe I want to keep the scars.”
“You want to keep scars in the shape of bite marks?” He replied flatly and you shrugged. The doors opened again and He grabbed your arm. “That’s it, I’m taking you to medbay.”
“No!” You panicked and pulled away from him.
“What in the world’s going on?” He asked incredulously, and you looked around. “Did something happen the day we went to Ni-bu?” You opened your mouth but quickly shut it.
“I’ll tell you what happened, just not here.”
“C’mon!” He pulled you into a nearby closet and locked the door behind him. You paced what little you could in the space and he sighed. “Would you just tell me?”
“I thought I was okay. I didn’t have any of the symptoms so I thought I was a Beta. After everything settled down I went to medbay like you told me to get my cuts cleaned up.” Sulu quickly put two and two together, especially after days of suspicion.
“You weren’t a Beta and neither was he.” You shook your head. “And, lemme guess, you left in the morning?”
“I didn’t know what else to do.” You nearly whispered. “I fucked up.”
“Yeah, you did. Kirk, you gotta fix this. You have to talk to him. You can’t avoid medbay forever.”
“I can try.”
“Kirk.”
“I know you’re right! I just don’t know what to do.” He wrapped an arm around you and you leaned into him.
“Just go in there.”
XXXXXX
Leonard was reading from his PADD in his quarters when he heard a knock on the door. He put it down on his bedside table before letting it open and saw you. His black eye was healing nicely, but he winced when he widened them in surprise.
“Uh, hey.” You started, already wanting to punch yourself.
“Hey.”
Fuck, this was awkward.
“Can I come in?” He stood to the side and you stepped in, the door closing behind you.
“If you’re here for your clothes and boots there under my cot in my office.”
Ouch.
“Thanks but that’s not why I’m here.” You stood there, trying to keep from fidgeting. “I wanted to talk about what happened, and before you say anything I know I shoulda stayed. I wanted to stay but-“ You broke off and sat down in his arm chair. You felt like if you kept standing then you’d pass out.
“But what? I’ve been wonderin’ why you didn’t stay, myself.” He said and you nodded.
“And I shouldn’t have done that to you.” You looked down at your clasped hands and tried to swallow the nervousness radiating in your body. “Leonard, I’ve always liked you. I’ve always been attracted to you.” You didn’t see the surprised look that crossed his face. “But I was always afraid of what would happen. I mean, you know me and Jim: we’re both terrified of relationships and I know that you’re wary of them after how things went in your marriage. I’ve always wanted to respect that.” You didn’t realize you had started to ramble. “And Jim is another thing! That ass is always so protective over me and you’re his best friend! That’s a conundrum just for him! Does he kick your ass or lock me in my cabin or both?! Not to mention we’re in space and it’s probably one of the most dangerous places ever!” You finally looked at him and saw him chuckling, hiding his face behind his hand. “Why the hell are you laughing? I’m pouring my heart out here!”
“Because you sound like me, dammit!” He smiled and you stared at him incredulously. “Go on, finish up. I gotta talk some time.” You shook your head at him and stood up.
“Fine, you want me to finish? I didn’t want to wake up and hear you talk about how it was a mistake because just thinking about that fucking kills me. I wanted it to happen, maybe not like that but I wanted…something like that to happen. There, I’m done.” You stood there and waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. “Well you said you had to talk.” You looked back up at him expectantly and his eyes had softened, he wasn’t smiling anymore.
“I didn’t know you felt that way and...as much as I didn’t think that this is the way things would happen, I don’t regret that it did. I’ve wanted to be with you for so long but everything’s complicated. But I wanna give it a shot because I can’t imagine not being with you.” Tears welled in your eyes at his confession and you threw yourself at him, taking in his warmth.
“I want to be with you, Len.” 
“As long as you promise you won’t run away again, darlin’.” You smiled up at him and kissed him softly.
“I promise…Alpha.” He stiffened against you and you laughed. He smiled and captured your lips in his, holding you tightly against him. “You think you could get rid of my scars first?” You squealed as he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around him.
You two would just have to deal with everything else later.
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When We Were Young Part Three
Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader Rating: T Notes: Not beta-read I just wanted to thank everyone for the likes/comments/reblogs!! I really appreciate it! Warnings: Uuuuuh none Summary: “Have you seen this?” You turned around to see Sherlock holding up the Pall Mall Gazette. You strode forward, holding your hand out for it.
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Your next day was spent looking in on your aunt (your father’s sister, Mary - a kind woman, but always troubled with some illness; she would spend nearly an hour describing it to you and then say, “But I don’t want to bore you with that, dearie, it’s a trouble for an old woman”), as well as meeting with one of the investors that your father had asked you to speak with. You’d taken over the use of Cornelius’ study while you were in town, and had hoped that the atmosphere would soften the man’s attitude toward you. Unfortunately, it hadn’t had the desired effect. The man had been rude and condescending. It had taken everything in your power to keep your head and not snap at the man in the way you wanted to. As irritated as you were, this was your father’s livelihood, and the way he kept a roof over all your heads. That being said, you were in an awful mood when your Uncle informed you of a visitor. “Who is it?” You asked. Cornelius chuckled at your dark tone. “No need to look so dour. It’s your friend, Mr. Holmes,” He said. You hesitated before turning to answer him. “Which Mr. Holmes?” You asked. “The detective, not the politician,” He reassured you. You nodded. “Send him in, then,” You agreed. As soon as Cornelius was out of the room, you found yourself turning to check your reflection in the glass of the cabinet, reaching up to tuck away a stray hair. You immediately felt ridiculous. Sherlock wasn’t there to see you, he was there to tell you about what he knew about Enola. You huffed, resting your hands on your hips and turning away from the cabinet. Surely it was the meeting with your father’s investor earlier that had you so riled. Your hands absently smoothed over the skirt of your dress before you raised a hand to fiddle with the cameo on your choker. You heard the door open and you lowered your hand, resting it on the back of a chair. You opened your mouth to greet him, but he spoke up before you could. “Who did it?” 
He’d hardly been there a moment and he was already throwing around questions.
“Excuse me?” You asked. “Who upset you?” He pressed. You had expected Cornelius to come in behind him, but the door closed, leaving the two of you alone. You knew that your mother would have a fit if she found out you were alone with a man, especially when her brother was meant to be looking after you. It was one thing for Sherlock to come and speak with you alone when you were in your own home. Your parents were always wary of what may happen to you and your reputation when you traveled - “People talk in London,” Your mother would always sniff (as if the country was entirely free of gossip). “What makes you think I’m upset?” You asked. Sherlock strode further into the study, looking you over openly. You didn’t have a book to hide behind this time, though, and despite the fact that you were wearing several layers of clothing, you felt very exposed. “You mean beyond your inability to keep still?” He asked. “I haven’t moved since you came in,” You argued. “Your fingers haven’t stopped tapping on that chair,” Sherlock nodded toward your hand. You hadn’t even noticed you started, and you immediately pressed the pads of your fingers into the leather of the chair to still them. “Your shoulders are pulled incredibly tight,” Sherlock added, continuing to come closer. “I value good posture,” You excused. “You're flushed...And your jaw is clenched,” Sherlock added, stopping right in front of you. You immediately relaxed your jaw, but the redness in your face, well. There was nothing you could do about that. “...Have you heard anything about Enola?” You asked, choosing not to address his initial question of who had upset you. Sherlock watched you for a few seconds as if waiting for you to crack. Then he hummed thoughtfully, brushing past you to go the desk. You felt your shoulders relax as he did; you hadn’t even realized how tense you were. You hated how easily he could read those things on you - but you reminded yourself that he could read those things on anyone.
“Have you seen this?” You turned around to see Sherlock holding up the Pall Mall Gazette. You strode forward, holding your hand out for it. He passed it to you before he unbuttoned his jacket, leaning back against the desk. You skimmed the article he’d opened to: Disturbance on London Express. Two Boys Leap From Train. Your brow furrowed as you turned away from him, paper in hand as you began to read it to yourself in a mutter: “There was a report of a disturbance on a London bound train yesterday morning. The London express train had left Basilweather station at 9:15, and was bound for the city when passengers witnessed two boys and a man with a bowler hat moving around the carriages excitedly and with much haste--” “You still read aloud to yourself?” You ear caught on the teasing in Sherlock’s tone and you grumbled, “Shush,” Before you went on reading in silence. You’d skimmed the article that morning, but it hadn’t caught your eye the way it had Sherlock’s. You unfolded the paper when you finished, eyes darting to the article on the Marquess that was reported missing before you rejoined Sherlock at the desk, pressing the paper into his chest wordlessly. You had intended to move your hand away, assuming he’d catch the paper quickly enough, but his hand quickly covered yours, keeping it there. It wasn’t for more than a moment or two, but it felt like ages. You never went into public without your gloves, rarely met with men or had occasion to touch a gentleman’s hand besides. Now Sherlock’s thumb brushed over your bare knuckles, the pads of his fingers fanning out over the back of your hand. It was a simple touch, innocent and soft, but it set your blood singing. You slipped your hand out from under his, picking up a stack of mail that had been deposited on the side of the desk and beginning to leaf through it. In truth, you’d already done this once, half an hour ago, but you needed something to keep your eyes off of Sherlock’s and your hands away from his. “...Thoughts?” He asked. You could hear him refolding the paper. “You know these matters better than I. I’ve never been in a situation where I’ve had to go looking for someone that didn’t want to be found,” You answered. “Perhaps not, but you’ve spent more time with Enola than I have in these last few years.” “Yes, and whose fault is that?” You volleyed back dryly, turning a letter over and inspecting the wax seal. When Sherlock didn’t answer, you glanced up to find him frowning and staring ahead. “Your jaw is clenched,” You informed him, reaching up and tapping at the tight muscle with the letter. Sherlock cut you a sharp look, and you smiled sweetly before you lowered your eyes back to the mail, tossing the letter onto the desk. “If that was her, she’ll have changed her disguise by now,” You added, “Your sister isn’t stupid. She knows that that incident will have caught some people’s attention.” “I know that she’s not stupid,” Sherlock snapped. You regarded him carefully out of the corner of your eye. There was only one person that could get a rise out of Sherlock when you were children - you had been his favorite target then, and Sherlock let him at it, as long as it meant Sherlock got some peace. You weighed your options before deciding to play your hunch. “What did Mycroft say?” You asked knowingly. Sherlock directed his gaze elsewhere in the room, clearly displeased at being caught out. “He doesn’t want me looking for Enola...And he’ll send her to boarding school once she’s found.” You shook your head, muttering, “Smarmy bastard,” Unable to help yourself. You had looked away, and didn’t see Sherlock’s slight smile at your curse. “She’d hate it there,” You added more loudly, “There’s no freedom, no way for you to be yourself. Mycroft may think that what he’s doing is for Enola’s own good, but... Being sent to one feels like a punishment.” “How would you know? You had a governess,” Sherlock grunted. You pursed your lips, nodding. “I did... Until my mother deemed me un-governable.” You felt the weight of Sherlock’s frown as it was turned on you in full force. “I didn’t know you were sent away,” He said. “Well, how would you? You never came back,” The bitterness and hurt seeped into your tone, unbidden. “You stopped writing,” Sherlock’s rebuttal spoken more harshly than you’d expected, and you turned to him with fire in your eyes. “You never answered,” You snapped. There was a knock at the door, and it only gave you two a second’s warning before Cornelius’ cheerful self popped inside.
“All well in here?” “Quite,” Sherlock answered brusquely. Both men went silent, waiting for your confirmation, but you never gave it, instead pretending to re-immerse yourself in the letters in your hands. Cornelius cleared his throat. “I hate to intrude, but we'll be having guests over for dinner this evening and I’m sure it’ll take my niece some time to get ready. Frills and frippery and all that.” You rolled your eyes, unable to help it. You’d had quite enough with men’s assumptions for one day. “I do hope you enjoy yourselves.” Sherlock’s tone was very flat, matter-of-fact, and you were almost certain he didn’t mean it. “Oh, you know how these things are. Business for the men, pleasure for the women,” Cornelius tutted, “Though Lord Dawson will be there and he and a certain someone seem to be quite keen on one another.” You scoffed quietly, tossing another letter onto the desk for the sake of throwing something. Lord Dawson was an egotistical bore, but a well-moneyed one, and someone that your mother was pressuring you to marry.
“I believe my brother has been meaning to become acquainted with Lord Dawson for some time,” Sherlock commented.
“Well, then you and Mycroft ought to join us for dinner this evening!” Cornelius offered. “No!” You said sharply. You froze, feeling both Sherlock and Cornelius turn their attention to you.
You turned your head to look at your uncle, lips pursed. “Mr. Holmes is in the middle of a case, he’ll be far too occupied to join us for dinner,” You glanced over at Sherlock, adding, “Won’t you.” Sherlock nodded. “Your niece is right, I am currently in the thick of a case,” He said, looking at Cornelius. You relaxed, turning back to the letters, satisfied...Until Sherlock continued, “But I will have to eat sometime, as will Mycroft. We’d be glad to join you.” Your hands tightened on the letters, fighting the urge to reach up and smack Sherlock over the head with the lot of them. “Splendid!” Cornelius grinned, “We will send a formal invitation around to your brother, of course.” “I will excuse myself, then, and give you all time to prepare,” Sherlock straightened from the desk. He turned back to you, leaning in and tapping a finger against your cheek with a murmur of, “Your jaw is clenched, dove.” You gave him your most murderous look, but he was already striding toward the door to bid your Uncle Cornelius a good day. Tag list: @run-through-wa11s ; @thefallenbibliophilequote ; @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem
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jayeray-hq · 3 years
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How He Shows You Affection: Kageyama Tobio
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Thank you again for requesting anon!
Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!
Warnings: None all fluff!
How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist
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Thank you as usual to the amazing Tay @deathcab4daddy​ I know you’re busy so I really really appreciate it! 🥺💖
He Dotes on You
           Kageyama had always been a bit socially awkward, which had at times made it difficult for both you and others to see how very much he cared about you. It had taken you a good long while to realize that despite the stilted, often abrupt, and abrasive, words that came out of his mouth that he truly loved you. He was even doing everything in his power to show you, since he couldn’t seem to vocalize how he felt with any sort of eloquence. It was in the little things he did, every day and in every moment that showed he was thinking about you.
It was how whenever he went to the vending machines, he always came back with his milk in one hand and your favorite drink in the other. It was in the way he ensured you never ran out of your favorite treats at home, restocking them every time he went to the store and never forgetting them. It was how there was always a seat reserved for you at all his games, even the ones you couldn’t come to because he wanted to remind you that you were always welcome and that he was always thinking of you.
             The little things he did never failed to make your heart warm, each gesture stating how much he loved you loud and clear for anyone who cared to look. After all, each gesture was catered to you and to the things you loved. It surprised every single person who asked about your relationship, but after the first few mistakes where you stated your preferences to him clearly, Kageyama hadn’t ever gifted you something you didn’t like.
             Your volleyball crazy boyfriend had proved over and over that the only things he paid attention to and bothered to memorize were about the things he loved. It was why he’d struggled so much in school, and yet he never seemed to forget a single detail about you. He knew your favorite dessert, the things you craved, when your cycle was, your hobbies, and the little things you did or that he could do to brighten your day. He memorized it all, carefully and meticulously and pulled those details out when he needed them to help him prove to you how very much he cared.
             It meant when the two of you went shopping that if you happened to mention you liked or wanted something, you could almost always count on having it show up sometime in the near future. It made things a little difficult at times as your boyfriend, with all his adorable awkwardness, didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word excessive. You couldn’t help but find that part of him incredibly cute. It just meant you’d had to learn to watch your words so you wouldn’t accidentally take advantage of the way he wanted to spoil you.
             However, the clearest and most obvious sign of his adoration for you was when you asked him for something, he almost never said no, even if doing it for you made him a bit uncomfortable at times. If you asked him for a hug, he gave it, even if it was in public in front of his team, or even in front of reporters and fans despite the fact that public displays of affection made him uncomfortable. He would blush the whole time, and maybe be a little stiff and awkward, but if you asked, or even so much as hinted that you might need it he would do it without hesitation.
             It was another thing you were very careful never to take for granted, unwilling to make him uncomfortable or unhappy for your own selfish reasons. However, you really appreciated that he was willing to step out of his comfort zone for you, to do whatever it took to make you feel loved.
             A lot of people over the years had asked you how you could be with someone who seemed so cold. You’d always scoffed at those people, because it was very clear to you and everyone who truly knew him. Kageyama was the exact opposite of cold. Sure he struggled sometimes, but it was clear to you that he was doing his best to show you how much he truly loved you, and in the end that was all that mattered.
 He Makes Time for You
             You waited patiently up in the stands, watching as your boyfriend practiced his setting for Hoshiumi, Ushijima, and Romero below clearly working on something or another. You honestly loved watching your boyfriend practice, the look on his face was unlike anywhere else, the sheer joy and concentration in his expression clear to anyone who cared to look.
             It was very clear to you that the volleyball court was where Kageyama belonged, and where he felt most comfortable. However, these days you liked to think volleyball wasn’t the only thing that could make his face light up with joy, a feeling that was only confirmed as he glanced up after a successful toss to meet your eyes.
             It was a habit he’d formed fairly early on in your relationship, searching out your face in the crowd, almost as if seeking your approval, something in his face clearly asking ‘did you see that? Did you see what I did?’. The answer of course was always yes, because when he was playing you could hardly ever tear your eyes away from him, which was part of the reason the two of you had gotten together in the first place.
             However today wasn’t about volleyball, or enjoying watching him set for hours on end. No today was supposed to be about the two of you. It was an important date after all, Valentine’s Day, and one he’d promised to you. He clearly hadn’t forgotten, judging from the lovely bouquet of your favorite flowers that had arrived while you were at work, and as he caught your eye, he nodded to you in acknowledgment before turning to his teammates.
             You weren’t sure what exactly it was he said to them, but it had Hoshiumi letting out a surprised shout, and Ushijima raising a brow at your boyfriend. Romero, whose Japanese had improved a lot recently, simply clapped your boyfriend on the shoulder in a clearly congratulatory manner before gently pushing him off the court.
             Kageyama went, though not before meeting your eyes and gesturing that he would meet up with you in the lobby. You waved in acknowledgment, a wide affectionate smile on your face as you stood to leave, even if it would take him at least ten minutes to shower and dress.
             Your departure however was stopped by a shout from Hoshiumi. Curious, you turned to find all three of the players who’d been practicing with your boyfriend, along with the team captain Hirugami, Fukurou, all gathered below the bleachers clearly looking to speak with you.
             “How did you do it?” Hoshiumi asked you bluntly, his eyes wide with shocked awe as he stared up at you.
             “Do what?” you asked him, a little dumbfounded by the question. Hoshiumi was a bit of an odd one, and though you didn’t know him well you did know he was the kind of guy that was almost impossible to predict.
             “How did you convince Kageyama to leave practice early?” he asked, his voice getting louder and louder with each word, clearly baffled, “We can hardly ever get him to leave the building period, but somehow he’s ditching us early?”
             “Kageyama is very diligent,” Ushijima added thoughtfully, also looking a bit baffled as to why anyone would want to leave practice. The compliment was a high one though, especially from Ushijima who was honestly the epitome of diligence.
             “But I didn’t,” you told them, unable to help the fond smile that pulled at your lips as you realized that your boyfriend had clearly made special plans for the two of you, especially if he was leaving practice early, “Tobio was the one who told me what time I needed to be here. He insisted on making the plans for today.”
             Hoshiumi made a clearly disbelieving noise, but Romero who had been listening intently and quietly asking Hirugami for clarification at certain points simply nodded voicing, “Is the power of love, sí?”
             You flushed a bit at having it pointed out so bluntly, especially when Hoshiumi squawked in clear surprise and Hirugami started in on a coughing fit, clearly trying to cover his laugh. However, the beaming smile on your face no doubt gave you away.
             “Kageyama told me a couple weeks ago that he’d be leaving practice early today,” Hirugami told the group, once he’d recovered from his fit, “It surprised me and the coaches too. Apparently, he’s more of a romantic than I thought.”
             “I never thought I’d see the day Kageyama loved something as much or more than volleyball,” Hoshiumi voiced with a frown, “I’ve known that kid since high school, and never would’ve guessed he had room in his head or heart for anything more than the game. Guess you must be pretty special to him eh?”
             You didn’t get a chance to respond to the surprisingly perceptive question from the white-haired wing spiker, as your conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the man himself. He was dressed surprisingly nicely, in dark pants and a deep blue button down that no doubt had been picked for him by his older sister Miwa. He had a bit of an impatient look on his face, clearly suspicious as he glanced between you and the members of his team who’d gathered to speak to you.
             “Oy, come on, we’re going to be late,” he informed you bluntly, holding his hand out to you.
 “You look nice Tobio,” you acknowledged, immediately accepting his hand, smiling up at him, and enjoying the faint pale blush you could see across his cheeks. He was clearly a little flustered at the compliment, simply dipping his head, unable to collect himself to return the compliment just yet.
 However, he did carefully guide you out of the bleachers, ensuring you didn’t slip on the stairs because of the heels you’d worn to match your date night outfit. The soft, admiring look he gave you every time he looked at you more than enough of a return compliment, and reward for dolling yourself up for the night.
 You waved in acknowledgment as the team wished the two of you a good evening together. You stepped out hand in hand with your boyfriend ready to enjoy the evening and celebrate your love, one that he’d more than proved already, simply by taking the time off to be with you.
 He Vocalizes it to You (and only to you)
             “Tobio is something wrong?” you asked your boyfriend, deeply concerned with the way he’d been acting all evening. He’d been fidgety and restless, casting you furtive looks out of the corner of his eye that he clearly thought were subtle but were actually anything but.
             Usually when he got a bit agitated or when something was bothering him, you could get him to relax by cuddling up together on the couch and running your fingers through his hair as you watched something mindless on tv. Tonight however, even that surefire method had failed. You weren’t sure what was wrong, only that something was.
             Kageyama fidgeted for several seconds, clearly fighting with himself as you waited patiently. By this point in your relationship, you were well aware that sometimes the best thing to do with him when you wanted answers was to quietly wait him out and give him some time to get his thoughts together.
 You didn’t mind. The fact that Kageyama was able to communicate effectively with you at all was, according to some of his old high school senpai, a minor miracle. After all, verbal communication was one of the areas your boyfriend struggled with the most, and had led to quite a few misunderstandings and hurt feelings on both sides from the people he’d known over the years.
 He’d gotten much better though as he got older and a little more patient. It was something he credited Sugawara, Hinata, and Oikawa of all people with, which had always baffled you a bit. Oikawa himself had squawked rather indignantly when your boyfriend had mentioned as such in his hearing which, while hilarious, had done nothing to clear up your confusion.
 You were grateful for it nonetheless as it had certainly helped ease things in your relationship. The two of you had, had more than a few bumps along the way, especially at first, but these days you liked to think the two of you had a good system worked out and communicated rather well.
 “I love you,” your boyfriend blurted suddenly, the words pulling you from your reminiscence about the past rather abruptly and startling you a bit with their volume.
 “I love you too, Tobio,” you told him immediately, a little taken aback, but warmed nonetheless about his declaration of affection, even if the delivery hadn’t been all that smooth. He didn’t say it as often as some, and never where anyone else could overhear, too shy to do so, but when the two of you were home, he never failed to tell you and it warmed your heart every time.
 “You- you know I love you,” he continued hesitantly, peering up at you from where he’d been resting on your lap, his deep blue eyes clearly troubled as he asked, “right?”
 “Of course,” you answered, more than a bit baffled about what had brought this on all of a sudden, “And, you know I love you back, right?”
 “I know,” he murmured his voice quiet, but filled with affection as he peered up at you, his face full or adoration even if the worry hadn’t completely left his eyes.
 “I just wanted to make sure you knew,” he told you earnestly, his ears burning red, clearly embarrassed but determined to keep going despite that, “Because everyone says it isn’t obvious, and I just thought, maybe it might not be obvious to you.”
 “Everyone says?” you repeated a little baffled, before remembering the article that you and one of your friends had been laughing at over lunch earlier in the day. It was one of those stupid gossip rags that made up random news articles about celebrities. This particular one had proclaimed that it was clear your boyfriend wasn’t in love with you, because he was never affectionate or loving toward you when the two of you were in public.
 It had even gone on to proclaim this was because he was in love with another woman, and included a grainy picture of him hugging her as clear ‘evidence’. You’d nearly laughed yourself to tears seeing the photo as it was clear how incredibly uncomfortable he’d been, stiff as a board in the embrace. Even funnier was that you’d recognized the ‘other woman’ in the photo as his sister Miwa.
 You hadn’t given it a second thought other than to ask your boyfriend if the PR team of the Adlers was going to do anything about it. He’d immediately responded with an affirmative, and you’d seen the magazine had been forced to print a retraction and an apology just an hour or two later. You’d honestly forgotten about the incident completely, but apparently your boyfriend hadn’t.
 “Tobio, you know I don’t care about what anyone else says about our relationship right?” you told him gently, “As long as you know I love you, and I know you love me that’s all that matters. As long as you keep talking to me, keep telling me you love me that’s all I could ever need to know how you feel.”
 Kageyama still looked a bit concerned, the furrow that appeared whenever he was thinking hard about something still evident between his brows. You meant the words though, really and truly. You knew how hard they were for him to say, both because he struggled with communication in general and because he was shy about expressing his feelings. Which was why it meant the world to you that he went out of his way to say them to you. You didn’t need him to proclaim them to the world, him just saying them to you was more than enough.
 “I love you,” you told him earnestly, peering down at him, gently smoothing the crease in his brow until his face relaxed, into the soft look he reserved for you.
 “I love you too,” he told you sincerely, sitting up to press a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips.
 “Then that’s all you have to say,” you assured him, nuzzling your face into his affectionately, relishing in his presence, and basking both in his love and the words he saved for you and you alone.
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satorinni · 3 years
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𝕞𝕦𝕥𝕖
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track 18: feelings?
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Kenma has never really been a people person. Yeah, over the years he’s gotten better with ‘human interaction’ , but he would still prefer to be alone. There were very few people whose company he didn’t mind, and recently he had been contemplating whether you should be added to the list. Though that idea has been teetering in and out of his mind given the fact you two hadn’t actually hung out in person.  Actually, save for the one pants-less interaction, neither of you had ever been in the same room together. But still, he kinda likes you. More than a friend, he’d like to think. Though the idea scared the fuck out of him, he would actually like to take you on a real date. One that didn’t result in your dinner being up in flames. 
Maybe he’d even take you to a cutesy café in Tokyo. Like the one he was currently sitting in. Eating apple pie. Across from a girl. A girl who definitely wasn’t you. 
“Honestly, I don’t know why you didn’t just become a model.” After the photoshoot, Etsuko insisted on getting a bite to eat. Something about wanting to catch up because it’s been a whole year. He didn’t really understand why, he knew for a fact Kuroo called her every time something juicy happened to him. Whatever that meant. Besides, he couldn’t turn down a slice of his favorite food.
“Because wearing stupid clothes and standing in front of a camera for hours is not my ideal career, ‘Tsuko.” He took another bite of what was left of his slice. He’s glad he chose to sit in a booth away from the windows, he had already been recognized twice on the way here. It’s why he did his best to avoid walking through the city. Especially dressed like this.
“C’mon, Kenmaaaa, the button up is cute. You look like a businessman.” She snorts through her smoothie straw. 
“I am a businessman. I’m quite literally a CEO.” He gives her a deadpan stare before taking a sip from his own milkshake. “I don’t know how your rooster boy manages to wear this stupid getup 24/7. I’m suffocating in these slacks.” He’d been pulling at the tight-fitting pants all day, but the magazine suggested he look professional for the shoot.
“What’s the matter, Kenma? Too much junk in the front?” Etsuko wiggles her eyebrows at him. She always did have the dirtiest mind. 
“Gross, ‘tsuko.” He squints at her and shakes his head. 
“Speaking of your little fella, when was the last time you got laid, baby boy?” Despite her suggestive tone, Kenma knew she was genuinely curious. She was the one who told him what sex was anyway. Gross, he shudders at the memory. 
“Is that an offer, ‘Tsuko?” He knew it wasn’t, and he knew even if it was the answer would be no, but he was deflecting. 
“Only if you let me post it on the hub.” She winks at him and slurps at her empty cup for emphasis. “Quit deflecting, Kenma, I heard about your lil boo thang.” She cracks up at her own joke and asks the waiter for a refill. 
Kenma scrunches his nose in disgust. “Don’t call her that.” Yeah, you guys weren’t dating, and yeah, you probably didn’t even know he liked you, but still. 
“Look at you, defending her honor, how sweet.” She mockingly shakes her head at every word. “I heard you stole her from little rooster boy.” She leans in towards him, like it was some big secret.
“Of course he exaggerated that, he’s the one who set her food on fire. Besides, she texted me first.” He recounts the way he freaked the fuck out when he saw you texted him. His demeanor was always more calm over the internet, probably why he had millions of fans, but he was still an antisocial wreck IRL.
“Ahh, so she’s ballsy, huh. Who knew little Kenma liked bold girls? Tell me about her.” She leans her head into her palm. To anyone else she would’ve dropped it already, losing interest. But this was Kenma, she was always poking her nose into his business. 
“She’s a med student, same age as me. Friend of a friend, I guess. “ He shrugs. He figured that would keep her dormant enough to change the subject. 
“You got yourself a smarty pants. Cute, but that’s not what I wanted to know.” She raises her eyebrow at him. “Do you like her? Is this just a hump and dump? You gonna marry her?” Her eyes got wider with every question, it kinda freaked him out. 
Damn, he thought he could dodge it, but Etsie has always been super pushy. “I don’t know. I mean I'm definitely not gonna hit it & quit it. I haven’t even hung out with her for real.  And dude, I’m 23, m’not thinking about marrying anyone at the moment.” He held his breath and figured that was enough. He was not ready to admit it out loud yet.
“Ah ah ah, you skipped a question, baby boy.” She gives him a devilish grin and leans in even closer. “I won’t tell a soul.”
Okay, even if she was a bit much, Etsuko never spilled Kenma’s secrets. To anyone. Not even Kuroo. But it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. It was just... Was he ready to admit he had feelings? It's only been a few months, and he hadn’t even spoken to you in person. So what if he texted and called you 24/7? Wouldn’t it be too early? You’d probably be freaked out if he went ahead and confessed his feelings so early on. 
Ah, fuck it. 
“Yeah, ‘Tsuko. I like her. Like a lot. She’s funny as hell, smart as shit, and she gets me. Plus she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. Like, prettier than you.” He knows that would probably offend any other girl, but he was only ever straight up with ‘Tsuko.
“EEK!” Etsuko lets out a pig squeal that has other customers staring in confusion. She balls her fists up and starts shaking aggressively. “My baby boy has a crush! EEK! I’m so proud of you.” She leans over the whole table and grabs Kenma’s face, placing a loud kiss on his forehead. 
He flicks her forehead and smiles. “Shut up, it’s not like this is the first crush I’ve ever had.”
“I take pride in being your first crush, little bro.” She places her hand on her chest in mock pain, but the grin on her face exposes itself. 
“When you put it like that it sounds like incest. I was 8, you weirdo. ” Both were true, when Kenma first met Etsuko he developed a crush on her. (Mostly because she was the only girl who he’d ever interacted with.) It only lasted a month anyway; he eventually got annoyed with how much her and her brother were at his house. Now, after 15 years of being stuck with Kuroo, Kenma could only ever see them both as the siblings he never had. 
“Still, I was your first love, Kenma.” She looks off dramatically into the distance, as if she was having a flashback.
“You’re gay.” The smirk on his face gives off his slight amusement with her stupidly dramatic antics. 
“Now, “ She slams her hands on the table, causing more people to stare and the silverware to rattle, “Aren’t you going to ask me about my lovelife?” 
“No, I don’t care.” He snorts at the hurt look on her face. 
“Well, my girlfriend is doing WONDERFUL, Kozume Kenma, thanks for asking.” She crosses her arms and sticks her nose in the air.
“Yeah, whatever, you’re paying.” He pulls out his phone to see if there are any texts from you. On cue, the notification on his phone displays your name. He grins down at the unopened text, not even bothering to hide his happiness from Etsuko. 
Mid-rant about how he should pay because he’s got all the money, she stops and stares at him. A soft smile appears on her face, a swell of pride shoots through her. She only ever saw Kenma as a baby brother, and was genuinely happy for his growth over the years. 
Suddenly, Kenma’s phone flashes with your contact, a facetime call from you. 
“I gotta take this.” He moves to sit up, but looks up at Etsuko at the last second. 
She grins and nods towards the door. 
“Go get em, tiger.”
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𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: kozume kenma x medstudent!f!reader
𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: send an ask to be added!
𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: enroute to being a neurosurgeon, y/n l/n doesn’t have time for fun, let alone dating. after her friends set her up on a blind date gone wrong, she comes face 2 face with none other than her date’s best friend. her world flips on axis, and suddenly she has no idea how her brain works, or love-at-first-sight.
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𝕒/𝕟: this was probably rlly poorly written LMFOAD
taglist!
@katsuki-bakuhoee @sirachano0dles @qwir-0 @sailorstrawberi @calumsfringe @oppositesunchild @akioaly @aikochan4859 @drownedbytears @buttermasterbillie @vvenusblue @bluefaeriefury @ktzuki @mirikusashes @tsukibaby @toaster-stick @woohoney @just-snog-already @adorable-punk-superheroes @nikanikabitch @starrywriteshaikyuu @acabbaybee @theblueslytherin @sakusasupremacist @waywardcowboyllamavoid @rintaoreo @immxnty @noliamallpayne @sadcosmicdoggie @aizumii @c-o-n-q-u-e-r @sunahyejin @zaedynnn @triskoof @bakugouswh0r3 @ilauvcoldpizza @tina-98 @izzy28901 @kookie-doughs @black-rose-29 @moonlightaangel @kakamihasatmblr
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darlingpetao3 · 3 years
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Thank You For Ruining My Life: An Homage to Tom Cavanagh
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“You’ve ruined all my future expectations of men.”
The costume-clad woman had the courage of steel to say this to the then 53-year-old actor, Tom Cavanagh of The Flash, in front of a ballroom filled with a couple hundred people. This brave utterance was spoken during the 2016 Fan Expo Vancouver convention during a Flash question and answer period with actors Tom Cavanagh and Candice Patton. In its third season, the show was undoubtedly still hitting its stride in popularity, and the room was packed to hear these two speak.
The brave woman whose turn it was at the microphone was referring to Tom’s role as Ed Stevens on the NBC 2000 hit, Ed. I had not known of this show previously, but having now heard such a proclamation intrigued me. “You’ve ruined all my future expectations of men.” That was a tempting notion, and as I continued to listen to this disarmingly charming and wittingly funny man steal the stage, Tom intrigued me even more. I’d watched him play three different versions of Harrison Wells on The Flash since the show’s premiere date, yet I hadn’t truly noticed him in a “life-ruining” way before.
Little did I know that Tom Cavanagh would not only eventually ruin my expectations for men as well, but he would change my life in other ways, too.
After the Q&A, I had this urge to buy a S.T.A.R. Labs T-shirt from one of the vendors at the convention. In my head, I thought I would purchase something so that I could have an excuse to talk to Mr. Cavanagh at his signing booth. Again, he intrigued me, and I wanted to experience more of his incredibly likeable personality. So, I dragged my friend with me to wait for what was maybe ten minutes in a queue. Shortly, I was paying the assistant for my autograph I would soon acquire. They wrote my name on a sticky note so that Tom would know how to sign a personalized message to me. And then, it was my turn.
His eyes sparkled when he turned his attention to me. I instantly had a feeling this was just the way he was naturally. Oh yeah, and I swear to God I’d never seen eyes that blue in my entire life. It genuinely stunned me.
“Hi!” he greeted me.
“Hi!” I responded, equally as thrilled. Tom admired the T-shirt I had brought and took note of my name on the piece of paper. I remember us joking together about the extremely lax security in and around S.T.A.R. Labs on the show, which prompted his message to me on the heather-grey cotton. He wrote my name, [followed by a heart!] and a very welcoming, ‘Come on by, just walk right in!’
I had official clearance from Harrison Wells himself.
I thanked him very much, leaving with my treasure folded over my arms. My friend and I walked towards the hall’s exit, and I couldn’t shake this feeling inside me. It felt strange—I couldn’t name it for the life of me. It felt like an odd fluttering with a simultaneous yet contradictory slightness of breath. My head was confused and would continue to be so for the rest of that weekend.
As I waited at my gate in the airport on that Sunday evening to head home, all I knew was that the moments at the con featuring Tom were the highlights of the weekend for me.
And that I was going to begin watching more of the other films and television shows he’d been in. What was the show the brave cosplaying woman had said ruined her expectations of men? Oh yeah, Ed.
Maybe I’ll start there…
***
Feliz Navidad, Feliz Navidad…
In my house, it’s never really Christmastime until Michael Bublé croons through the speakers of the wooden stereo system in the living room. It felt especially festive as it was now Christmas Eve—a month and some change since the con. It was late, possibly ten o’clock. I was lying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree with my trusty laptop, a word document open. I was writing three holiday-song short stories featuring the new muse in my life, Harrison Wells. I wanted to be able to post them the next day, so my fingers were taptaptapping away.
I had written a handful of things before 2017, most of which had been Marvel-related, under my second, ‘rebirth’ pen name online. I was a little fish among all the grand and fabulous writers on Archive of Our Own, and in many ways, I still feel like that little fish. I was only just learning and feeling out the psyche of the Wells characters. Each one is so different. In my rewatch of the previous seasons of The Flash, I’d taken diligent notes, and as I’d later learn with each following rewatch, I would know them all—what they think, how they talk and behave—like the back of my hand. It was fun to suss out these guys, and I found that I was growing to love the act of writing even more.
One month later, in January, I would post all the stories I’d written thus far on Tumblr. I’d just created an account and, who knows? Maybe I’d get a wider range of readers on here, too.
Might as well give it a shot, right?
***
Wild horses couldn’t keep me from attending Fan Expo Vancouver 2017, especially when the big news dropped. Not only would Tom Cavanagh be attending again, but so would Carlos Valdes, Danielle Panabaker, Candice Patton, and the convention-elusive star of the show himself, Grant Gustin.
Before the moderator for the Flash cast’s Q&A panel could utter the final thanks to the actors at the end of the session, I bounded from my seat and sped down to the photo op booth where the cast would be taking “Team Up” photos with fans. ‘Sped down’ has to be the most appropriate couple of words because I indeed felt like a true Speedster dressed head to toe as the small screen’s adaptation of Jesse Quick, the angsty and brilliant daughter to Harrison Wells turned superhero.
After waiting in a queue that felt like ages, I was next to stand with Team Flash. As I took a step forward, all of the actors’ and actresses’ eyes—the people I spend time with every Tuesday evening—were on me. I heard a familiar voice approve of my costume. It was Danielle.
“Tremendous.”
Grant even joked that he thought for a second Violett Beane, the actress who plays Jesse Quick, had shown up to surprise them. “I was like, what’s Violett doing here?” he said.
I stood in the back row, happily sandwiched between Tom and Carlos. I dared to let my hands rest on their backs, and I couldn’t contain my joy. Shortly after, when I received my near-instant physical photograph of the moment, I saw Tom had pointed at me. In my mind, it felt as if in his gesture, he meant, hey, look at this cool person. Haha. I couldn’t be further from it.
I would go on to further be uncool in public as I later found myself virtually shaking and almost hyperventilating in line for a one-on-one photo op with Tom. The guy dressed as Kid Flash behind me gave me a few encouragements of the “it’ll be okay” variety. As my turn finally arrived, the lovely man of the hour greeted me with a bright smile in recognition of my Reverse Flash T-shirt (I had done a quick change before this photo op because I had worn a Flash T-shirt for a photo with Grant).
“Great shirt!”
The internet comes up with many hilarious and fitting words, but none such so than the term “Cavanarms.” One of the said Cavanarms found its way around my shoulder in such a casual way. My hand rested on his back, and I have told anyone who will listen about how soft his sweater was. What was approximately a five-second interaction will stay with me forever. And to this day, I will always regret how I’m standing beside him in the picture—there’s a distinguishable gap between us. I could have been closer—should have been!—but I like to use the fact that I felt as if I’d combust into flames if I were any closer to the man.
Maybe I’d have another chance to combust later again that day because, believe it or not, this fan hadn’t had enough of seeing Mr. Cavanagh in person. And since he was appearing at the con for this day only, there was no way I was going to squander any opportunities. Besides, there was still one final thing left on my convention docket: the autograph. In my mind, going to get his autograph was an excuse to get to talk to him and simply be in his presence for longer than five seconds. Here, take my money. I’m a sucker, and I’m proud of it. I saved all year for this kind of thing, and Fan Expo has always been my ultimate nerdy Treat Yoself Day.
Plus, this year I came equipped with a question for Tom (something for which I may have prepared a little too far in advance).
“Which of your characters would win in a lawyering battle: Ed or Miles?”
Miles was Tom’s latest character from his newly released project Darrow & Darrow, a fellow lawyer as Ed Stevens (remember, the man who ruins women’s expectations of men?), whom he portrayed almost two decades prior. What I loved about Tom when I got to ask him this was that he was silent for a moment following the question. He was genuinely putting thought into my question. As he pondered, Tom continued to autograph the photo of us together taken mere hours ago.
“Ed. He would wipe the floor with that other guy. Like, Miles is great, but Ed has a rapier-sharp mind, you know?”
I wholeheartedly agreed with his answer and felt relieved inside for some reason. We thanked each other (as politely as two Canadians can) before I left him to pay attention to the next lucky soul in line. I made the mistake of casting my eyes downward at the signed photo.
Tom had signed two little hearts over the I’s in my name. He really needed to stop adding hearts to my things, or I was just going to melt to the floor. In fact, I started to make these strange noises as I tried not to completely maul everyone in front of me while exiting. My friend ushered me as fast as physically possible on our way out of the main hall. One man took one look at me and asked, “Are you okay?”
No.
“Yep!”
The second I made it out of the herd, I broke out into open space. First came the minor hyperventilating. Then came the squealing followed by laughter. Top it off with various fangirlish comments of, “He’s so beautiful!”, “His eyes are so blue!” and “I love him!” and I was probably quite the sight to see (but at a convention, that’s considered normal!). My friend smiled on as she let me express everything that I had to keep inside until I had the right time to expel my emotions. I was on cloud nine. Ten, if at all possible.
The next day would be the con’s final day, which I would attend alone. My friend needed to catch the ferry in order to prepare for her courses the day after. I did a scan of the convention hall one final time in case there was something I missed purchasing. Afterwards, I sat on the cold hard flooring of the convention centre hallway for a bit of a break. I was wiped out. With my phone in hand, I smiled at the messages from this one Tumblr blogger who had been following my posted adventures at the con. I had seen and replied to many of her comments on my stories I’d written thus far, and I enjoyed her matching enthusiasm for Tom and The Flash in general. I felt her to be a kindred spirit. I had no idea then that I was chatting with one of my future best friends, L.
***
I spotted her.
She was wearing an identical shirt to the one I had on—a light grey T-shirt with a sequinned Spider-Man mask in the corner, which around it read, We met on the Web. A giddy me couldn’t wait for the short escalator ride to end. Her back was to me and facing the baggage claim, so here was my chance to surprise her instead.
I towered over my friend, E, and donned a low, authoritative voice.
“Excuse me, Miss, can you come with me?”
She squealed a greeting to me and I returned it as we hugged for the very first time after two and a half years of online friendship. We would still have about two hours to kill until our mutual Tumblr best friend, L, touched down at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport from across the Pond.
Something I noticed was that E and I carried on talking during our wait like it was second nature, that we hung out like this all the time. Whereas when I met L in person for the first time the year previously, our first meeting was that of quiet, delighted shock, unknowing how to react to one another’s physical presence. It almost felt like a fantasy. The closest thing we’d ever gotten to this was visiting over video chats! I’m not sure what each of these different reactions in these separate meetings meant, but what I do know is that I’ve never had such strong female friendships such as these—so full of uplifting support and love for one another. They are the greatest ladies I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.
And as a searching L eventually turned the corner to meet us in the Arrivals terminal, I caught sight of her Tom & Grant bandana tied around the handle to her carry-on bag. It was an item she had received in return for helping fund the short film produced in 2018 (I’d bought the ringtone). Seeing the accessory jolted me to remember that the former of the titular short was the reason for this long-awaited get-together holiday in the Windy City in the first place. Tom Cavanagh, unbeknownst to him, had just officially united three online friends, each from a different country, to spend six full days of in-person bonding and a whole lot of fun.
***
I should have been shelving books.
I should have been doing a lot of library-related tasks, but my head was elsewhere. Anywhere other than the small-town public library where I work. Instead, I sat on the carpeted floor of the Junior/Young Adult section with my phone in hand and a dreadful article title staring back at me.
“The Flash: Carlos Valdes and Tom Cavanagh to Exit after 7 Seasons.”
My world felt like it was falling apart.
Tom was leaving? There had been rumours and wonderings spreading around the fandom regarding whether he was leaving the show. With a storyline ending with a monumental sacrifice and a time-travelling man saying his farewells, it all seemed to point to the fact. I should have known… I could have rivalled Supergirl as being the Paragon of Hope after all the optimism I doled out to my followers and friends who would come to me worried Tom would exit the show. I would always give reasons to deny such a thing could happen, claiming that I’d believe when I saw it.
Well, there it was, and I definitely saw it.
One could feel the ripple effect over the internet of the shards of broken and riled-up hearts around the world.
Tom’s exit was on his terms, having not felt challenged by his character’s plotlines, as mentioned in a recent Entertainment Weekly article. As a viewer—and I am a viewer (Mike and Tom Eat Snacks, anyone?), it has been increasingly difficult to look past the missed shots made by story editors and showrunner, so understandably, the actor would want to seek something more exciting and meatier. That said, Tom has always shone on-screen and taken what he’s been given in stride. He turns unearthed material into diamonds and indeed shines on screen. Steals it, even! Tom easily makes the episodes he’s in better, and when he’s missing, you feel the loss. The few episodes of Season 7 without him only give us a tiny hint at how the show will be without him going forward. It much resembles when you might bring out your favourite jigsaw puzzle, only to find that the one piece you need to complete it isn’t there.
***
On a personal note, as I write this, I am roughly 20 followers away from reaching a milestone of 2,000. I have written well over 200 stories for The Flash alone (whether they be short or long, one-shots or chaptered), and goodness knows how many words I’ve generated altogether over the course of these many years with inspiration from the show and my favourite character. I’ve written and co-written novel-length stories, one monumental Wellsian story of which was done alongside L and E (almost solely done through alternating text messaging in the app, Line) that reached over 108,000 words and consisted of 42 chapters. And when I’m not writing for my blog, I’m also working on trying to accomplish my dream of becoming a published author. Just as I thought before I launched my Tumblr blog, I think again now: Might as well give it a shot, right?
***
I have watched virtually everything Tom has been in that I could get my hands on, both physically and electronically. Sure, a few titles are out of my reach and probably lost to the very early 90's forever, but from what I've seen through Tom's filmography is enough to know that he can do anything. He can play the romantic leading man that will make you fall head over heels for him or a deranged killer that will have you genuinely scared of him. That is talent. Tom always brings something new to the table from each role to the next, and (when he's not playing those psycho killers) you can't help but admire his craft.
Not only is his acting stellar, but from what we as fans have gathered on the man, Tom has got to be one of the kindest men in the business. His humour and sheer ridiculousness could get anyone through a tough time (we’ve seen plenty of bloopers and behind-the-scenes videos to prove this!). He has clearly bottled and stored an endless supply of Fountain of Youth™ and each year continues to wow us with his handsomeness. Tom is charming, dedicated, and yes, arguably holds the world record for Bluest Eyes.
In my eyes, Tom Cavanagh gave me the two best friends I could have ever asked for, as well as plenty more lovely friends I’ve continued to make online. (One day, I hope to meet him again so that I can tell him in person how because of him, I’ve met such very important people in my life). Through Tom, I have truly found my passion for writing, and in doing so, segued me to dare to dream of becoming a published novelist. I wholeheartedly believe all of this would not have happened if it weren’t for those first series of events that led me to meet Tom and love and admire him immensely. He is indisputable proof that there are indeed men like him out there. Indeed, he did ruin all of my future expectations of men. He ruined my life in the absolute best way and I am eternally grateful.
I am very much looking forward to what Tom will do next. I think it’s rather needless to say that I will follow him in his career, as he has gained a devoted fan for life. He represents so much to me and so much of it I have gained since meeting him that fateful day, when I thought to myself, Maybe I should buy this T-shirt and get this guy to sign it. Wherever Tom goes in life, I’ll be here to cheer him on.
I have a pretty good feeling plenty of others will, too.
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typical-simplelove · 3 years
Text
Vital Words (E. Pettersson)
Summary: Four times Elias failed to have the words to talk to you and One time he finally found the words to talk to you. 
Warnings: none that I can think of!
a/n: Thank you so much to @dripkingpetey for helping me with this! Without their help, this would not have been finished. So, thank you! 
Word Count: 4593
There were a few days in his life in which Elias could point to and say “that is when my life changed.” There are the obvious ones, when he got drafted, played his first NHL game, or scored his first goal. However, those days pale in comparison to the day that he met you. The day he met you, Elias knew that he was gone, even if he could barely talk to you. To put it simply, you changed Elias’s life. 
One
You were sitting on a bench in Stanley Park watching the ducks swim in the water. You weren’t doing anything and weren’t waiting for anyone. All you wanted to do was sit and stare. You weren’t expecting anything to happen all that interesting. You were just about to take out your phone and post a picture to your Instagram story when out of nowhere, a soccer ball hit you square in the head. For a moment, you forgot what was happening.
When you finally realized what happened and where you were, all you saw was a ton of very, very handsome men and even prettier women crowding around you profusely, apologizing. However, all this didn’t matter, all you could focus on was this one person. He had the most beautiful blonde hair and striking blue eyes. He didn’t say anything; however, he caught on to you staring. You could feel the heat and throbbing on your face -- you’ve been caught staring.
You knew that you somehow said, “I’m ok. It’s fine.”
“Can you tell me your name?” the friend of this mysterious blonde said.
“My name’s Yn.”
He nods and says, “Yn. My name’s Brock and my friend over here is incredibly sorry for hitting you in the head.” Brock gestures to the same blonde man whose face suddenly grew hot. 
“Oh, um, I’m fine. I grew up with my neighbors and family hitting me in the head with soccer balls all the time,” you replied, getting a laugh from the crowd around you. 
“If you’re all ok then, we’ll let you be. Unless, Elias, you have something to say?” Brock says with a smirk, knowing his friend was developing the start of a crush on you. This mysterious blonde’s name is Elias you thought to yourself. He’s really cute.
Elias said nothing. He was too in awe of how beautiful you were. 
“Okay then,” Brock says, looking puzzled at his friend. “I hope that we didn’t ruin your day, Yn.”
“You’re all good,” you replied as the crowd around you left. As everyone was walking away, you saw Brock shaking his head at Elias. I wonder what that was about you thought to yourself. 
“Dude,” Brock said once you were out of earshot. “What is wrong with you? You hit her with a ball and can’t even apologize? Come on, man.”
Elias said nothing, his face noticeably getting hotter.
“Oh no! Is Elias tongue tied over a pretty girl?” Jake chirped.
“I’m not!” Elias insists, finally speaking. “She’s just really beautiful.”
Brock and Jake snicker next to Elias. 
Today was the day that Elias met you, the day that his life changed. Even if he didn’t know it, he was subconsciously living his life to find his way back to you and make you proud. He only knew your name but he wanted every part of you - good and bad. He wanted everything with you, and yet he couldn’t think straight and say anything to you. Elias’s life was thrown a curve ball and everything was about to change. And this was the first of many frustrating encounters in which Elias cannot find the words to talk to you. 
Two
For weeks after Elias’s encounter with you, he could not keep you out of his thoughts. Your HC colored hair, the way your EC colored eyes twinkled in the sun, the way your forehead wrinkled together because of the glare of the sun. These thoughts sporadically came into Elias’s mind and he smiled like an idiot in response. 
The next time Elias saw you was at the next home game. You and your best friend had tickets to this game for a while now. You both grew up in Vancouver and were long time Canucks fans. You and your best friend received these gifts as a corporate gift at your guys’s job. The seats were amazing as you two were sitting behind the Canucks bench. You were wearing your Pettersson jersey and your best friend was wearing her Boeser jersey. Little did you know that the boy who has been plaguing your thoughts was Canucks number 40, the same boy who threw a soccer ball at your head. You didn’t go to the games to watch the players. You went to the games to watch the game. For this reason, you had yet to realize that Elias Pettersson was the same boy who has been stuck in your head. 
When the team came out onto the ice you noticed someone you recognized - Brock. You began looking at the other players and remembered them as they surrounded you making sure you were okay. With this, you realized that the group of people in which the soccer ball came from were the Vancouver Canucks!
“YFN, remember how I was telling you about how I was hit in the head?” you rushed out.
“By a very handsome man,” your friend teases, earning an eye roll from you. “Yes, I remember.”
“Guess who’s number 6? And number 40?”
Your friend, oblivious and confused to what you're implying, glances down at your guys’s jerseys. You just stare at her. It takes a few moments of you staring at her for her to realize what’s going on.
“Oh my goodness!!! Elias Pettersson hit you with a soccer ball!!!”
You just nod, not wanting to bring any attention to yourself.
“Well, now that you know who he is, maybe you should DM him and talk to him,” YFN starts.
You interrupt her, “No, no way. There is no way that he’d want to talk to me. And besides, what would I have to say to him?”
“Um, I don’t know. Something along the lines of, ‘hi, you hit me with a soccer ball, you’re gorgeous, and I can’t stop thinking about you and you owe me so maybe we can go out for drinks or dinner sometime?’”
“No, absolutely not. Isn’t that kind of creepy?”
“Not really, I mean --” YFN is interrupted when you hear your name being called from the ice. You look over and see Brock  calling out for you from the bench.
“Oh!” you begin, shocked directing yourself towards the ice. “Hi! It’s been a while. This is my best friend, YFN. YFN, Brock.”
Brock gives you and YFN a nod and then gives you a finger indicating for you to wait a moment. You nod in response and look at your friend. She just smiles at you with a Christmas morning grin on her face. You roll your eyes and shake your head before returning your gaze to the ice where Brock is. You see Brock trying to get Elias’s attention. You instantly begin to feel the heat rush to your face. You silently try to will it away knowing that Brock is going to bring Elias over. 
“Hey YN. You remember Elias, the one who hit you with a soccer ball.” Brock says.
You nod, “yeah, I mean, It doesn’t happen all that often anymore so it’s not that hard to remember who did it.”
You chance a glance at Elias and your face grows even hotter. He is so much more gorgeous in his hockey gear. You stare for a few seconds but it feels like hours. You imagine just running your hands through his hair and just getting to look into his eyes all the time. YFN clears her throat to try to get you back to reality. You see Brock whisper something to Elias. Elias turns to your but pales, if that's even possible. Your energy instantly deflates knowing he’s turning pale because of you.
“Anyways, we have to get back. It was good to see you, YN.” Brock says. 
“It was, yeah,” you reply. “Good luck tonight.”
Brock flashed you a smile before skating away. As he’s skating away, you watch him smack Elias’s head and then shake his head. As the duo join more of the team, you watched more of their teammates shake their head towards Elias. 
Elias wishes he could say something to you. He doesn’t know what it is about you but for some reason, your presence makes him tongue tied. He had the thoughts, this time, about what he wanted to say but couldn’t open his mouth to say it. He didn’t know what it was. He didn’t really know anything about you. He knows, though, that if he got to know you, it would be even harder to talk to you. 
“Dude, again, what was that?” Brock accuses Elias. “You can’t stop thinking about her and you can’t even say anything to her?”
“I don’t know what to do. Whenever I’m around her, I can’t get the right words out.”
Throughout the game, whenever possible, Elias constantly glanced at you. Every time he glanced at you, you were always looking right at him. When he catches your eye, he can’t help but smile at how flustered and red you became. He knew that for a fact that he was falling absolutely in love with you. 
Despite the win and Elias finding the back of the net that night, you and Elias both went home with a weird, empty feeling. Elias just hoped that the next time that he saw you he could get the words out.
Three
Despite the silent resolution to himself to get the words out to you when he saw you again, Elias couldn’t. It didn’t matter. You made his mind go blank and forget how to talk, both in English and Swedish. Ever since the home game you were at, you were the only thought in Elias’s head. He hoped to see you in the stands again. If Elias was making dinner, his first thought would be if you liked what he was making. If Elias was watching a movie, his first thought would be whether or not you liked said movie. Again, if Elias was playing video games, his first initial thought would be if whether or not you liked video games. 
It was worse when he actually left his apartment. If the team went out for a team brunch or night of drinks, Elias wanted you there. He wanted you to be there to experience everything with him. He always thought that maybe he would run into you. Elias wanted to know if you liked the same things as him. He wanted to know you. He just straight out wanted you. He wanted to wake up holding you and kiss you good morning. He wanted to cook you breakfast in the morning and show up at your door with your favorite coffee. Every single day, Elias hoped that today would be the day that you two would randomly meet each other again and he could redeem himself. He hoped that maybe you would slide into his DMs to talk to him. He just hoped that the universe would work in his favor once again and not laugh at him. 
So, when Elias saw you again, he blessed the universe. Despite the location of this chance meeting - a gas station. 
You were struggling to bring the gas pump to your car. You mistakenly drove into one of the stalls that ended up with the pump being on the opposite side of the gas gauge on your car. It was hard. You were already running late and desperately needed gas in your car to get to work. 
Much to your chagrin, a fancy looking sports car rolled up at the stall behind you. You sighed. You didn’t want anyone to see you struggle, especially someone who must be able to figure out a gas station properly.
As you continue to struggle, the person in the sports car notices you struggling. He decided to get out and help you. 
“Do you need help?” you hear someone ask. Your ears perk up knowing that you’ve been caught.
“Oh! Yes, please! I forgot that the gas gauge was on the other side of my car and now I can’t seem to get the pump to come over. And, I am running extremely late.” you ramble, you cheeks beginning to flare. When you finally look up and notice this man, your cheeks flare even more and you stop breathing. You look him straight in his piercing blue eyes and he looks right back into your EC eyes he so desperately remembers. You stop breathing. Elias, you think. The boy that has been plaguing your thoughts constantly just has to be driving a fancy sports car and happens to see you again when you aren’t put together. 
“Hi,” you whisper and your face grows even more red. He just stares at you, finally blinking this time, and doesn’t say anything. Typical, you think. Elias doesn’t say anything, he just nods and reaches over to grab the gas pump from where you were struggling to bring it over the hood of your car. In doing so, his hand slightly brushes yours and both your faces grow a deep red. As Elias effortlessly pulls the gas pump over into the gas gauge, you can’t help but take notice of his very toned arms. You imagine what it would be like for him to hold you and take care of you. Your daydreaming inches your face to grow even more red. 
When your gas tank is full of its needed gas, Elias takes it out and puts it back on the stall. 
“Thank you,” you begin. “You have no idea how much of a life saver you are. Thank you so much, Elias.”
Again, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have the words. All he can think about is wanting to kiss you. When he saw you struggling, all he wanted to do was make you feel better. He wanted to help you fill up your car with gas, give you a giant hug, and then buy your favorite hot beverage to help you. When you barely whispered a hi, Elias knew he was gone. How is it possible that one word made him so flustered? All it took was for you to say hi and he was gone. There was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t tell if the universe was laughing at him or blessing him.
He nods in response to your words of thanks, that’s all that he can do. As you walk away, Elias tries but desperately but fails to call out a wait. He wants to exchange phone numbers so that you guys don’t just meet based on fate anymore. He wants to tell you that he can’t stop thinking about you. He has all these feelings and yet can’t say a single word to you. 
When you get in your car, you have the biggest smile on your face. You shake your head in a playful way to try to wipe it off. You can’t. As per usual, Elias can’t say a word to you. However, just seeing him for all five minutes will be enough to pump your feelings further and fuel your daydreams for the next few weeks until the possible fate encounter again. 
Elias watches you from where he was standing and watches you smile and shake your head in a playful manner. His smile widens even more. He takes this as a sign that maybe you are as infatuated with him as he is with you. When you drive away, Elias’s smile falters but only slightly. Just seeing you gives him a reason to smile. When he got to practice after your fated encounter at the gas station, Elias still had a bright smile on his face. He played very well and everyone took notice. After practice, Brock questioned Elias about his actions. Elias can’t do anything but proudly wear a giant smile on his face. This is enough for Brock to know exactly what is going on in Elias’s head. Elias saw you again. However, Elias’s lack of want to say what happened proves that Elias didn’t say anything to you, again. 
Brock just hopped that one day Elias would be able to tell you how he felt about you. 
Four
“She’s getting married!” Elias exclaims to Brock over the phone.
“What?” Brock questions, absolutely confused. 
“Yn, she’s getting married. If only I had the guts to say something to her maybe then she could be marrying me!”
“Whoa, slow down buddy. First, you met her only a month ago. If she were getting married now, then she’d have been engaged one month ago, too. Second, I don’t recall ever seeing a ring on her finger. Lastly, I need to know exactly what happened.”
“I went for a run and I was walking back when I bumped into her. She was walking out of one of those wedding boutiques carrying a bag in her hand. What am I going to do? I am so in love with her and I now find out she’s getting married?” Elias hastily rushes out in distress. 
“Did you say anything to her?”
Elias goes silent. No, he didn’t. He was walking and looking down at his phone when he bumped into you. You were about to scold him for looking at his phone, but when you noticed it was Elias, your face softened. You gently greeted him good morning. Once again, as per usual, Elias couldn’t say anything. He just gaped at you. He looked up at the building you were walking out of and the bag in your hand. Elias paled. You were carrying your wedding dress and he lost his chance with you. You gave him a confused look before connecting the dots. You rushed out a hurried I can explain. He didn’t listen. He shook his head and walked away.
“Why didn’t you let her explain?” Brock questions, flabbergasted. 
“What was I supposed to say?” Elias answers. “’Yes, please explain that you are getting married and break the heart of someone who is head over heels for you. Oh, and by the way, I can’t even say one word to her!”
“Maybe it’s not a wedding dress. She said she could explain. So, this means that it might not be a wedding dress.”
“Possibly,” Elias sighs. Their conversation is briefly interrupted when Elias hears a chime come from his phone. “Give me a minute. I got an Instagram notification.”
Elias takes his phone away from his ear and opens Instagram. He notices that it’s a DM notification, from yourusername. Elias stops breathing for a second. He’s taken out of his daze when he hears Brock’s questioning. 
“I have to call you back. She just DMed me.” Elias explains. Brock whistles in response think that Elias might finally be getting his chance with you. 
After hanging up the phone, Elias goes and looks at the notification. He has yet to read what it says. He takes a very deep breath before opening it. 
Yourusername: Can we talk? Maybe meet for coffee? Yourusername: Oh! It’s Yn. The girl who you keep on seeing but can’t seem to get the words to talk to her?
Elias laughs at your second text but goes pale immediately with your first request. You want to meet? What is he going to say to you? Elias decides that all that he can do is be honest with you; it’s what you deserve considering his actions.
_eliaspettersson: I would love to meet but I can’t promise I’ll be able to talk to you.
At least he was honest you thought. You wait a few moments before replying.
Yourusername: What if you try?
+ One
You were shaking. This was it. You were going to meet the man who you couldn’t stop thinking about. You were extremely nervous. You were waiting outside of the coffee shop you, Elias, and Brock were to meet at. Elias asked if Brock could tag along. He said that it meant that there was more of a chance he would be able to talk to you if Brock tagged along. You agreed. You would do anything to hear him talk. 
“Yn!” you hear someone call behind you. Your nervousness heightens but your smile grows. It fades a little bit when you realize it was Brock who called you, not Elias. 
“Hi, Brock,” you say to Brock. You look at Elias, “Hey.” He looks at you not saying anything. You sigh. You really hoped he would say something to you. Elias takes note of your sigh and takes a deep breath. Brock silently questions Elias’s actions. He looks like he is contemplating something. You are about to lead Brock and Elias into the coffee shop when, all of a sudden, Elias scoops you up into the best hug you have ever had. He holds your waist tightly but not too tightly. Tight enough to show that he is not leaving. He nuzzles his head into your neck and kisses it softly. You’re shocked at first but don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and hug him back with just as much compassion and love. You both hold the hug for just a few seconds then normal but if feels like eons. Brock clears his throat to signal that there were other things that needed to be discussed. When you and Elias separate, you both have a flushed look on your faces. You are about to lead Elias and Brock into the coffee shop when all of a sudden, Elias takes your hand. You jump slightly at the contact but don’t let go. 
When all three of you sit down and have your coffees, you decide to start explaining. You figure that Elias wasn’t going to say anything and it wasn’t Brock’s place to try to fix things. 
“So,” you begin. “I’m not getting married. My sister is getting married in a few months and she needed me to go pick up her dress. That was the only reason that I was walking out of the wedding boutique.”
You pause, waiting for a reaction. Elias smiles softly. Brock, however but no unexpected, is the first one to say something. 
“I told you, Petey.” Brock says. “I told you there was no way she was getting married.”
“Should I be offended that you don’t think I could be getting married?” you joke. Now it’s Brock’s turn not to be able to say anything. “I hope that this means that we can start over, Elias. Or at least have an actual conversation. You have been plaguing my thoughts for the past month and I have no idea what to do.”
Moments pass in awkward silence.
Finally, someone speaks quickly, “Can I take you out for a proper date and apology? A date because I am crazy about you and an apology for hitting you in the head with a soccer ball and not being able to say anything to you?”
You just smile. His voice is so much more beautiful than you thought. And, my goodness, that accent? You can’t help but fall more in love. You nod, words failing you this time around. 
“Finally!” Brock exclaims. “Now, I can leave so you two love birds can get to know each other.”
You and Elias both turn crimson red. You get kind of worried that Elias won’t be able to talk to you. 
However, your nerves are settled when he winks at you and says,“I think we will be just fine.”
+ Two, bonus
Four Years Later
“Remember, when you see her, you actually have to talk to her,” Brock jokes. Four years after that day in the coffee shop, you and Elias were getting married. For the first few months of the relationship, Elias constantly got tongue tied. However, as he got to know you more and fell more in love with you, he got less tongue tied. All this was thrown out the window whenever you got dressed up of any kind. Any time you got dressed up for a charity gala or for a night out with your friends, Elias instantly forgot to talk. Based on his track record, when he sees you, Elias might not be able to get the words out. He, and everyone else, knew that you were going to be dressed so beautifully for your wedding day. With your flowing white gown, lace veil, and perfectly styled hair, you were going to be so drop dead gorgeous that Elias will with no doubt have many, many hardships talking to you. You had to tell the guys that if they were going to place bets against him speaking, don’t tell Elias. 
“Very funny, Brock,” Elias tries to defend but his deep red blush peeking out shows that he is just as nervous about this. “I can actually talk to her now.”
Elias’s brother snickers behind him. “You barely said a word last night at the rehearsal and she was dressed pretty casually.”
Elias knows he has no defense. He knows he’s screwed. There is nothing he can possibly do to calm the nerves. You and Elias both opted to use the traditional wedding vows partially to try to garner a better chance of Elias being able to speak to you. Elias is just hoping that he can say “I do” without hesitation so that it doesn’t look like he doesn’t want to marry you. 
“What if I can’t speak to her?” Elias nervously asks. 
“Doesn’t she do something to bring you out of your head so that you can talk?” Brock asks. Elias doesn’t say anything but then remembers you do. Whenever you two are out with anyone and Elias fails to say any words, you would always softly stroke his bicep with your thumb to remind him where he is and that there are certain social norms that need to be met. Obviously, the action is more playful than accusatory. 
Elias nods in response. He is hoping that he can remember to talk. Gosh, he hopes that he doesn’t screw up. 
…  
When he saw you walk down the aisle, Elias knew he was screwed. The way that the light bounced off of your glowing smile and the white dress that compliments your body in the most perfect way set Elias over the edge. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to shake your father’s hand and promise him that Elias will take care of you for the rest of his and your life. 
When you reached Elias and flashed him your greatest, beautiful smile and whispered a soft hi similar to the one from the gas station all those years ago, Elias almost collapsed. Everything in the world disappeared; everything except for you. Elias just stared at you with the biggest smile on his face. He would have continued to smile at you if your father didn’t clear his throat signalling that Elias couldn’t just stare at you. This cough brought Elias out of his trance; he promised that he would love you, care for you, and provide for you forever as long as you shall live. You then gave your father a tearful hug and took Elias’s hand. When you were both situated standing in front of the officiant, you both turned to each other. Elias still had yet to say a word to you. This did not go unnoticed by you. You released your right hand from his grasp and reached over to his left bicep and stroked it softly.
With your soft action, Elias finally got the words out and said in a soft tone, 
“This is the start of our forever.” 
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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years
Text
Lovebirds Damian Wayne x Reader
Words: 2.8k
Requested? Yes! From a few lovely anons!
“So far i am loving your blog and went through like all of your writing🥰💖💖💖💗💞! I was wondering if you could do 'star sapphire corp reader' x damien please? Like them getting together” and “Could you please do sapphire lantern reader with your choice of the batboys meeting on a mission?”
LINK TO PROMPTS  -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!
I absolutely love the sapphire corps! Thank you for these adorable requests! Dami plus a lover actually in tune with their emotions- hell they’re powered off the emotions- is too funny and so adorable! Also we are going to pretend that Raven and Damian aren’t a thing even though I’m using the DCAU teen titans alrighty? Plus it gives me a chance to ship BBRAE YEAHHHH! Hope you enjoy!
I’m so sorry it’s long it’s my first fic back I was so excited haha
“Deep breaths and English you got this” you stared at yourself in the mirror of your makeshift room in titan’s tower. Being the youngest member of the star sapphire corps you were the one tasked with the trip to earth, it made sense, no one wanted to work with teenage earthly heroes but you. Finally, a chance to meet a being similar in age to you! No more old hymns about the power earthly love, you were about to experience it first hand. 
Your mentor had called in a favor and you had been escorted to earth by none other than the physical embodiment of flirtatiousness, Hal Jordan. The trip itself was tiring so upon a midnight arrival you retired to your room without meeting anyone. Now, you could hear a bustling of voices, there was so much emotion radiating it seemed slightly overwhelming, so you opted to wait for Hal to come pull you from your room. 
At the familiar knock you shook away your nerves and flexed your hands into fists, feelings your ring almost pushing you to go outside. “Howdy miss l/n! Ready to meet your new team?” You were greeted with the cheesy grin that had apparently wooed your mentor, but always prodded you. “Good morning Hal, temporary team remember?” you replied, letting your aura be picked up by your purple light. Hal coughed awkwardly, “we walk on earth newbie, not many float here” embarrassed, you touched back down, clearing your throat as you exited your quarters. 
As you made your way down the hallway shouting grew, but upon you entering the room went quiet. With a small smile wave you scanned the room, noticing a green boy who was burning a strange looking food, two other boys who had froze to look at you but stood at a large table that made a strange sound, and lastly a raven haired boy who was sharpening a- sword? At ten in the morning? On the couch. The green boy came up to you first, “hello! You must be y/n! I’m Gar, there’s Jaime, Vic, Robin, and Raven isn’t here but she’s also part of the team! Nice to meet’cha!” Trying to keep up with the names Gar started shouting “SHE’S HERE Y’ALL” apparently to summon a woman who looked like the leader, as she was much older. Following her was a younger girl in a purple cloak, you quite liked her look and vibes, though she felt quite closed off. 
After learning more about everyone at a team breakfast with strangely prepared food you were with the team getting suited up as your mission to travel to Celea, a planet whose environment was toxic to any being over 18, making it a “teen titan’s mission” as they called themselves. As some of the titan’s changed into their suits and prepped themselves for combat you bonded with Raven and Blue Beetle as you had all loaded onto the ship fairly easily. “So why do you have a powerless human on your team? Do you not worry for his safety?” you wondered as you watched Robin methodically pack all his gear. “Trust me, Robin could take all of us out if he wanted to, he’s earned his spot on the team from pure skill and being a little bit of a monster- OOMPH” Jaime was cut off by Raven nudging him. You couldn’t help wanting to hear Robin’s story, as you were like him too- powerless but highly trained and craving to do more. Luckily you had a couple hours of flight to get to know the mysterious boy. 
The ship was large, built for a league of heroes apparently. This meant the team had spread out but you had stayed in the piloting area to assure yourself the team was on the right trajectory, apparently Robin was as well. “You actually know where we’re going?” his voice shook you from your calculations. “Yes, I’ve visited Celea before, but never to fight it’s people” you mused, wondering how in just a few years since your visiting a toxic group of manipulative outlaws had attempted to stake their claim to the beautiful Celea. “TT, not much of a fighter?” Robin mused snarkily, his flitted down to the ring on your finger. “Y’know your team here thinks you’re pretty strong, but I’d wager you’d be easy work for me” you teased back, twisting your ring around your finger as Robin came closer to you. 
(TW FOR BLOOD)
Sitting next to you he began, “my abilities come from my skill, my wit, and my determination. I don’t believe you can say the same princess” you scoffed, “you underestimate me Robin, this ring is nothing without me, not the other way around. Powered from my emotional control and my creativity, my skill takes focus and agility not just glorified muscle memory” you winked at him, enjoying the banter. He scoffed in return. “Yes and what can you do with that ring that I cannot defeat with my blades” he mused. This invitation was perfect. You got up jubilantly, started your lecture. “Clearly you lack certain knowledge Robin, hand me one of your so called blades” you stuck your hand out as Robin rolled his eyes handing you a bat-shaped blade. Without a second thought you cut into the side of your arm, wincing at the pain. “Y/N! What are you doin-” you cut Robin off, beginning to channel your power. “You see, true power is the ability to heal any cut your blades could make, to take was has happened and turn it into a place of love, not malice or hate” as you said this, the familiar purple tone washed over your arm, easily mending the break in your skin. You noticed it felt faster than usual, but wiped it off as adrenaline. 
(TW OVER)
At the display of your powers Robin was in awe. “That’s not all I can do” you laughed, creating a small purple hand that pushed Robin’s open jaw closed. He stumbled back angrily, mumbling about accepting your abilities merit. “You impressed now Robin?” you grinned, sticking out your hand to him. He closed the distance, returning your handshake. “Damian.” he said softly. You swallowed, Damian. It was becoming. Your ring began to warmly glow, Damian snapped his hand away wearily as you cooled your emotions. “Oh uh! Sorry, energy burst” you said, it was a half truth at least. Damian nodded, moving to go clean the batarang. 
The rest of the trip was short, upon entering Celea you’d divided, Damian was with you as the both of you entered publicly while Beast Boy and Raven entered covertly, planning to cover you if the diplomatic endeavors went south. Blue Beetle and Cyborg, unfortunately, weren’t allowed in Celea as their tech was apparently very old and triggered the planet’s defense system, so they stayed up in the ship was manning comms, prepared for an air fight. 
Upon entering you were taken straight to the capital, a sapphire corps was a rarity on Celea and they were all excited for your help. You and Damian met the governing leaders, explaining that you were here to help end the tyranny on the dark side of the planet. As you had hoped, they agreed, you could feel their love for their planet was strong, but that was about all the love on the planet as everyone was so young. It felt slightly difficult to keep a reign on your emotions on Celea, the planet itself was a safe haven for children, almost like a giant orphanage ran by beings that reincarnated frequently as to stay alive on the planet, the concept of pure love was foreign to many of the children and unharnessable. It all felt quite isolating in comparison to earth, a planet driven by intense emotions. 
“You look tired already” Damian mused. “I’m fine, just not a huge fan of a child-only planet” you responded as you made your way towards the large base, preparing yourself for a fight. Before Damian could respond you were joined by Raven and Gar. Their presence eased some of the pressure. “You guys love each other, it’s refreshing” you said, both of them froze, staring at you. “Oh uh, we haven’t really talked about that yet” Raven whispered, staring at Gar who was grinning like a child in a candy shop. “I love you too Rae!” he cheered. “Not how I imagined I’d say it but, yes, I do love you idiot” she huffed. Your cheeks flushed, “oh uh, my bad sorry, it just, seemed so obvious” you giggled, secretly glad you’d brought the two together. 
“Just a couple’a couples!” Beast boy teased, you felt your cheeks redden, glancing to Damian who was now suddenly interested in looking anywhere but at you. You felt your ring begin to glow again, covering it with your other hand. “Oh wow! Look at that! We’re here! Battle time!” you cleared your throat, setting the group focus on infiltrating the rogue base. 
The base itself was relatively small, it hadn’t been flushed out yet but the four of you were here to clear it before they had the chance. Trying to establish a child trafficking ring on a planet of only children was disgusting, and needed stopping before it got the chance. You were especially passionate about this endeavor, the reason for you channeling the power of love was when you lost your sister, that loss of love taught you it’s importance even at a young age, and after training harder than anyone you knew you earned the ring, promising to defend love the way no one defended yours. You would protect these children at any cost. 
There was no need for stealth as you had the permission of the Celean government, it was more of an ambush. As Gar shifted into a large tiger, Raven donned her hood, and Damian stripped himself of the Celean garb, you noticed his Robin suit, littered in weapons and ties, he looked like a hero. There was that damn glow again. Channeling it into your focus you felt the warm aura surround you as you lifted off the ground, ready for a fight. 
“Y/n should say it!” BB roared, Raven nodded in agreement. “Say what?” you looked at Damian. “We have this tradition where the leader says ‘Titan’s Go’ then we fight, and I guess you’re our leader today” he said, you noticed the light tint hiding beneath his mask. “Okay!” you said, positioning yourself, flexing your hand to feel your ring one last time before shouting.
“TITANS GO!” 
And you were off, soaring through the air while BB and Robin took the ground. You noticed a few scared looking kids were being held in pens, and you decided to free them first. As Raven covered you easily, you floated down to the kids, accidentally bonking heads with Robin who stared at you. “I’m so sorry! It’s just we always have to-” “Get the kids out first” he finished your sentence, a small smile dancing at the corner of his mouth. For just a fraction of a second, your eyes flitted down to his lips, feeling his gaze of you the moment felt like slow motion before you both snapped out. “Let’s go! This way!” you used your ring to break the gates as Robin herded the kids out to freedom. 
Glancing up you saw a couple rogues grabbing kids as they tried to run away, your heart stopped when you saw one pull out a laser blaster. “Enough!” you screamed, violet rays exploding from your hands as you easily knocked them out of your way. Leaving your post you flew up and began eradicating anyone who tried to harm a child. “No one hurts my sister!” you screeched, your powers growing stronger by the second as you began dividing your powers between knocking out bad guys and literally carrying children to safety. As the last of the kids were safe you escorted Beast Boy out while you and Raven combined your powers to crunch up the base, making it unfixable and uninhabitable forever. 
Feeling the adrenaline subside you glanced down to see a herd of children cheering, but your focus drew to Damian who was propped up against a barrel, nursing a laser bullet wound. Rushing to his side you quickly pulled open his suit, a trail of blood trickled into your hands. “Damn kevlar doesn’t stop their bullets apparently” he coughed. “Oh my god Damian don’t go” Gar shifted next to you. “He’s not going anywhere” you said, focussing your energy, feeling the pain and imagining turning the warmth of blood into mending, the pools of blood are just pockets of blissful love. 
This wasn’t a good time to tell the team you’d never healed a wound this large before. Positive self talk right? Or negative. 
I’m alone on a planet of useless children, surrounded by a glorified furry, goth, and stocked vigilante. No one is here to help you y/n you’ve gotta do this. You felt the wounds begin to mend, after all that focus you’d barely started. Damian you idiot! If you die right now how will I know why my damn ring is gleaming everytime I see your cute face. Fuck. I didn’t mean cute. Yeah I did. Okay, save the cute face. Maybe kiss the cute face if you save it? Yeah. That’s a good deal y/n let’s do that. Your head was rushing through a million thoughts, anything to motivate you to do the impossible. Halfway there, you could feel it. “Holy cow, look! The wound is closing!” Gar pointed at Damian’s chest. “Y-yeah. No help from you green bean” you mumbled. “Oh I know what’ll help!” Gar squeaked, running off. You turned to Damian who was just staring at you bewildered. “Don’t look at me like that when I’m literally repairing your organs bird boy” you whispered through clenched teeth. 
Then a surge of power came over you, it felt raw and unchanneled, you glanced up to see Gar mid-kiss with Raven, giving you a thumbs up. The love was short lived, but enough to keep your engine revving. Alright girl you got this, heal, then kiss, maybe. Definitely heal first. He has to live. C’mon. “JUST LIVE DAMMIT” you shouted the last bit, feeling the last of your power drain while the wound completely closed. “Holy shit I’m a badass” you whispered, before feeling intensely light headed. 
You woke up in the ship med bay, jolting up. “HE LIVED HE LIVED” you burst up, throwing a fist in the air. The other corps members would be so proud! Your first battle with death you’d won! “You’re right I did live, thanks to you” a familiar voice brought you back down to earth. Next to your bed was Damian, now in casual clothes with a little bandaging on his other wounds. “Oh! uh yeah, you’re totally welcome” you grinned. Awkwardly Damian scooted closer to you. “I think I owe you a certain gratitude” he said, emotions dripping in his voice you hadn’t heard before. 
This time his eyes snapped down to your lips, as he leaned in you felt like you were dreaming. When your lips connected you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, feeling lightheaded with pure joy. The kiss itself was soft, blissful and lovely. Damian’s lips felt soft against yours, like they fit with yours like a puzzle piece. Pulling away you stared at him shocked. “I could hear your thoughts when you were healing me, had to live up to your expectations” he winked while you covered your face with embarrassment. “Oh my gosh that’s so embarrassing yikes” you mumbled into your hands. You felt Damian’s hand slide under yours, caressing your cheek, drawing your eyes to his. “I thought it was pretty endearing personally, I suppose it’s because I was being saved by the most gorgeous, fascinating girl I know” he mused, before bringing you in for another kiss, this time more passionate, as if to show his feelings through a kiss instead of words. 
You spent the rest of your earthly get-away with the Titans, finding a sort of family with them. When you were called back to your people you promised to return in a few weeks, hoping to move your station to earth. They could always use another lantern right? 
When you returned to your mentor, C.Ferris you told her of your earthly adventures. She laughed, “a Star Sapphire’s greatest strength and weakness all wrapped into a snarky earth boy body” and you couldn’t help but agree. And with that, you were sent back to earth, this time returning as Dove, because every Robin needs a lovebird to help them along the way. 
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Fluff Alphabet - Harry Wells
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Pairing: Harry Wells x Gender Neutral!Reader
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: None
Summary: A fluffy A-Z with Harry Wells!
A/N: These are really fun to do, so if you’d like to see more, let me know! (Also, if you would want others, let me know who you’d like to see)
~
A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)
Harry loves your smile and the way your face lights up around him. Knowing you’re so happy because of him makes him feel special.
B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)
Harry already has Jesse, and since he’s on the older side now, he’s not particularly looking to have another baby. That being said, if you really want a child, he could be talked into it, and when you get the news you’re pregnant or have been approved for adoption he’s overjoyed. 
C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)
Harry never admits in public that he likes to cuddle, but when you start dating, you quickly find out he does. He’s a big fan of spooning, the protective beast inside him soothed by having an arm wrapped securely around your waist. 
D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)
Dates tend to be lowkey with Harry. He’s pretty private on both Earth-1 and 2, so usually it’s either dinner out at a quiet restaurant, or a shared meal at home the two of you cooked together.
E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))
“You are my heart.”
F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)
One night while you were visiting Earth-2, Harry came home late to find you asleep on the sofa. You had a blanket draped over your lap, and an open book barely clutched in your hands. He realized you’d tried to stay up for him, and that was when he knew. The love he hadn’t felt in years was back, and it left him a little breathless, and if he was to be honest, a little scared. Which is why he sat on his feelings for a while before saying anything.
G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)
Harry doesn’t tend to be that gentle. He’s not just rough around the edges. But sometimes he is. If you’re upset, or even worse, hurt, his hands will be gentle on you, careful not to inflict further pain, searching for ways to make it better. And, in the late hours of the night, or the early hours of the morning, when you’re laying in bed together, he’ll gently trace as much of you as he can, committing every inch to memory.
H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)
Harry isn’t really one to hold hands. PDA isn’t his thing, and he’d rather keep affection in private. But sometimes, when you’re on the sofa watching something together, he likes it when you slip a hand into his and snuggle a little closer. One time, during a Team movie night, he slid his hand over yours instead. You didn’t say anything, but the two of you shared a private smile, and no words were needed.
I = Impression (What was their first impression?)
Harry wasn’t entirely sure what to make of you at first. He met you along with the rest of the Team, and at the time his only thoughts were how could you help him save Jesse? As for you, you were with the rest of the Team and thought he was a sexy dick. 
J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)
Not always, but sometimes. He knows you’d never cheat or do anything to hurt him, but occasionally he’ll see you with someone else, laughing, happy and at ease, he’ll feel the jealousy start to creep in. He tries to not let on though, since he knows the only reason he’s jealous is because a part of him still believes you deserve someone better than him.
K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)
The first kiss was pretty much mutual. It was late, and after a long day, you stayed behind at the Labs to join Harry for a drink and unwind. A couple of drinks in, you were both pleasantly tipsy, and Harry was more relaxed than normal. One thing led to another then you were both leaning in to kiss. Neither of you could have imagined it being better. Harry’s kisses tend to be intense. He pours all the emotions he doesn’t know how to say into them. Sometimes, they’re more passionate, rougher, because his mind is swirling and he’s desperate for you. Other times, they’re slower, deeper, his hands on your face, keeping you close. Either way, they’re always intense.
L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)
You say ‘I love you’ first, and when you do, you have to be prepared for him not to say it back immediately. Harry had never imagined finding love again, and he isn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, so it would take him some time to gather the courage to say it in return. When he does say it, it won’t be when you expect it. It’ll be during some quiet domestic moment when he sees you doing your thing, and gets hit with the realisation that he can’t keep his feelings hidden any longer. 
M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)
One day you and Harry had volunteered to go out and get Big Belly Burger for the Team, but on the way back a sudden downpour caught you by surprise and forced you both to take shelter under a shop doorway. Both soaked already anyway, you had started laughing when he grumbled and pushed wet hair out of his face. Harry was taken aback by how beautiful you looked, and it was the first time he realized that he cared for you.
N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)
It depends on whose Earth you’re on. Harry doesn’t have much on Earth-1 so he can’t spoil you, but he likes to make up for it when you visit Earth-2. He doesn’t go overboard, but if you spot something you like while out sight-seeing, he’ll get it for you.
O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)
Black. The association has likely less to do with you, and more to do with the few occasions he let you drape his black coat or jacket over your shoulders. Now whenever he looks at them, he’s reminded of you. 
P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)
Harry keeps it simple. ‘Sweetheart’ or ‘Honey’ are usually his main goto’s, but when you’re alone he also calls you ‘atom’ because you make up his world. Just don’t tell anyone that.
Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)
Harry’s no musical savant, but he does love vinyl still. Collecting them is a guilty pleasure of his. Watching you dance to them is also a pleasure. Just less guilty.
R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)
Harry spends most of his days rainy or not in his lab anyway, so it doesn’t make much difference to him. However, he does secretly like it when you drag him out and make him cuddle with you on the sofa while you binge watch something.
S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)
Since Harry is Mr. Broody, he doesn’t do a thing to cheer himself up. He just lets it sit and dwells without telling anyone anything. You learn the signs though, and when you know he’s down, go to cuddle him, because that’s the one thing you know will cheer him up. As for you, he’s not very good at knowing how to cheer you up either. He wants to, he hates seeing you upset, but if it’s not a problem he can physically fix, he ends up being at a loss. Tell him what he can do though, and he’ll do it without question.
T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)
Science, obviously. He’ll readily go on about whatever he’s working on at length. When you’re comfortable together, he likes to talk about Jesse as a child too, and his life prior to the Particle Accelerator. 
U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)
Honestly, not much. Harry’s pretty much always tightly wound, but you’ve found that a back massage or even just hugging him from behind, helps him to unwind. 
V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)
His intelligence is the main one. Jesse is the other.
W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)
Harry did put a lot of thought into the proposal, and even consulted Iris, Caitlin and Jesse on it. Grand displays aren’t his thing, but if it’s your first time getting married, he wants to make it special. He ends up taking you to Earth-2’s Atlantis for a mini break and pulls out all the stops. You get the best hotel with the best view, and Harry makes sure you have the best time. In the night, you order room service, and sit out on a balcony, to watch the city from up high. It’s a beautiful sight, and as time goes on Harry starts to confess how much he loves you. It’s clear to see that he struggles to find the right words to articulate his feelings, but he does, and, when he’s done, gets down on one knee and pulls out a ring box.
X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)
Harry wouldn’t say he has a song in particular. But, on the first morning he stayed at your place, he caught you dancing to the radio in the kitchen, and now the song that was playing can often be heard in his lab too.
Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)
Harry had no plans of ever getting remarried, but after being with you for some time, he realised he wanted to. He knows it’s an antiquated thought, but he wants to see a ring on your finger so everyone knows you’re his, and he’s yours.
Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)
Harry would want something low maintenance. A large aquarium would be nice. You could also talk him into getting a cat if you really wanted one, and if he took a liking to have said cat sleep on his lap while he worked, he’d never admit it.
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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years
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Hi, I know you’re a fan of namjoon so I wanted to ask your thoughts on this ring thing? I’m kinda new and assumed all these namjoon is married with kids stuff were a joke. But some people seem to totally believe that. I mean where he’d get the time to see a partner and kids is beyond me but who knows? Anyways I was looking at some of their recent pics and he doesn’t wear it all the time - which if it was a couples ring - wouldn’t he? I thought maybe he would only wear it if they were appearing on Run or Korean shows, but he didn’t have it on for either of the new shows they’ve been on recently, as they may not have been as widely watched. I mean I guess it’s none of our business - but I’m trying to rip of my delulu hat for making me think Seokjin gave it to him 🙈
Hi anon, I hope you don’t mind that I’ll combine my answer for you with my answer to another ask since I feel like they fall into the same kind of category, as in people taking things too far and/or blowing things out of proportion. And, coincidentally, both have something to do with rings.
I’ll start with your question though and give you another example that followed a very similar trajectory as the omg namjoon is married with kids because ring narrative/theory. Some months ago, Namjoon posted a few pictures on twitter and among them was a picture of him with another guy wearing a green sweater. His face though was covered. At first ARMY didn’t think much of it, but then, eventually, someone started a joke that “remember that sweater Joon wore for BV4? The guy is wearing the same one, what if that's his boyfriend?” and it went viral.
It started out completely harmless with hundreds of positive and funny tweets made in good humor, no one taking it that seriously knowing that we’d never find out even if it were true. But, as the jokes started to simmer down, everyone had their laugh, the next wave came in and this one decided that this isn’t a joke at all but serious matter. Quickly this harmless fun turned into a witch hunt of “ARMY” trying to figure out who the guy might be, if he is Namjoon’s mysterious friend that once sent him a coffee truck with custom drawn designs on it, perhaps the same one with whom Namjoon already once posted a picture sitting on this garden porch swing type thing, some even trying to prove that the guy is either Seokjin (in which case, what would be the need to cover his face?) or Florist Isaac whom they met during that one RUN episode.
So, very quickly a few idiots turned harmless fun into something almost malicious and got into fights with ARMY who were trying to tell them to stop.
The ring thing followed a similar story. It was once a harmless joke based on the fact that Namjoon wants to have kids one day, so some made jokes about what if he’s already married but we just didn’t know etc. But very quickly that got out of hand as well, going as far as people claiming the little girl in his pictures which he posted around his birthday or something is his daughter (even though it was said it’s probably the child actress from BTS WORLD) and that him making jokes (during a BangtanB while trying on glasses before their MOTS7 press con) about his child being able to read/write hangul at a very young age wasn’t jokes at all but solid proof of the fact that he is married with a child (despite the fact that he would’ve had to have gotten married and his wife pregnant not long after their debut for the timeline to even work out somehow which makes it seem even more ridiculous). This even went as far as people spamming the comments during this vlives with questions about it, flooded his selcas on twitter with questions and “jokes” and, again, attacked anyone who told them to stop.
In all of this, watching it happen from the sidelines as someone whose bias is Namjoon, I was confused why these particular rings (which I don’t even think were the same ones each time) caused such a reaction. The members have all worn so many different rings over the years, on all fingers, sometimes even like eight at the same time, and yet it wasn’t until 2020 and their KBS interview after their first BBH100 #1 that things went bonkers. All because Namjoon decided to take the ring off before they started filming or something.
In all of this I see two things that make me wonder:
When would he have the time to find a girl (since same sex marriage is not a thing in Korea) with whom he would have enough time to befriend her, trust her (considering who Namjoon is, that one is a major thing), fall in love, date and be together for a few years, and then get married? From Seokjin we know they have maybe two or three days off a month and work at least ten hours a day on their BH regulated schedules. Add to that the time they spend in the studio working on music outside of schedules, gym time, a few hours of sleep, and perhaps a few scarce hours of free time to (in Namjoon’s case) go to a museum or ride his bike, does that really leave enough time for romance (with an outsider) that leads to marriage (and a child)?
Is age 26 at the height of their career really the time for marriage? Even more so when you are someone like Namjoon, the leader of the world’s biggest group with more responsibilities than we can likely imagine as outsiders. Sure, he said he wants kids, but he can still have those in his thirties, he can also get married in his thirties, after all, life does not end once you hit thirty despite what some teens believe.
Lastly, I actually think that if it were true, Namjoon, or really anyone from the hyung line, would be the ones who wouldn’t have to hide it, at least not when compared to the maknaes. You could argue that “it would threaten their career” but would it really? Perhaps if the ring were from a man (some namjinists did make jokes that it’s like his promise ring from Seokjin or whatever, but it was all in good fun, nothing more than that), then yes, but connected to a woman? That one member from EXO also came out and said he’s getting married because his fiancé was pregnant and all it did was cause a few fansites to close and a handful of people to “protest” in front of the SM building. 
Little correction about my comments about that EXO member, though even with this my point still stands:
From anon: Re: your last post about namjoon’s rings! I agree with everything you said but just a small correction. I’m not an EXO stan but it wasn’t just a a few “protests” or fansites closing. From what I read online, he his fiancée and later wife, and his child were harassed, threatened and stalked to the point where he enlisted early just to give his family some relief. We all know there are people like this in every fandom and I know BTS would be aware of these things, so they’ll be extra careful.
Would there be delulus like this who’d go crazy if Namjoon were to say “ARMY, I’m (getting) married”? Of course. Would it ruin BTS’ career? I seriously doubt it. Do I think Namjoon would actually come out and say it if it were the case? No, but not because it’s bad idol etiquette or because BH wouldn’t allow him, but because people are insane and who knows what they would do.
It’s the same with times when people argue “I wish X ML members would just say he has a girlfriend so the ship wars would end” without taking into consideration the girl’s safety and the fact that a partner different than the one X member is shipped with has never been that big of an obstacle for some before. Just create a conspiracy theory about the company forcing this upon them and voila problem solved. We’ve seen that before when the tattoo scandal happened, and people thought JK might be dating that tattoo artist and therefore it would mean he isn’t in a relationship with Jimin or Tae.
Whatever happens in the members private lives, it is safer for all parties involved if it stays private, even more so if their romantic partners were non-idols, or non-celebrities, or another member.
Now onto the second ring question:
From anon: I am a young army and I am slowly losing my bearings. I've seen Vlive S, H and V. Many say it was a Tk*ok day (?) And all three emphasized it, and the V even wore the friendship ring for Jungkook. Is it true? I don't understand anything about it, I don't see it. After the last BTS interview on TV, I thought Vmin are best friends, not Tk*ok. I thought V said he didn't want Tk*ok and yet he was so happy during Vlive because it was Tk*ok day? Help!
Now this one, I was curious if we’d get an ask about this, even more since, if you’re a reader of our blog, you likely already know what I’m going to say.
Let’s start where you usually do—at the beginning. The day of the vlive coincided with what T*ek*okers have decided on is T*ek*ok Day, based on how supposedly some years ago this was the day Tae and JK named their subunit like this. I tried to find where exactly this happened, as in in which piece of official content, but I couldn’t find anything except for a screenshot. Anyone have a clue or a link?
Side note: T*ek*okers love using the “ship” naming as proof that not only are they real but also proudly showing it off by giving themselves a name but continently forget that they are not the only ones who gave themselves subunit names. After all Jimin and Namjoon named themselves MiniMoni, or Yoongi and Jimin who are MiniMini, Namjoon and Seokjin calling themselves RJRJ last year, or that one vlive with JK, Jimin and Seokjin where they also put together their names the way you build ship names. At the end of that vlive Tae, thanks to come prompting from the chat, named their trio vsope, so does that mean they are a romantic ship now too?
If you were watching that vlive as it was happening, and decided to look at the chat, then you know what was happening. For those who did not, basically the chat was flooded with comments about T*ek*ok Day, asking where JK is whom Tae loves, where his boyfriend JK is, congratulating Tae for T*ek*ok Day etc. Basically shippers took their shipping into a space where it doesn’t belong, into a space where the members can see it, and therefore purposefully broke one of the shipping rules (I even saw some tweet about how they were proud of themselves for literally spamming the chat with T*ek*ok comments which is so wrong, and I mean that regardless of which ship we talk about). In between those were the usual other comments like speak English or say hello to XYZ or say XYZ in whatever language, and very few comments that actually reacted to what the members were doing on screen. Like when Tae said he didn’t shave, instead of telling him that it’s fine, which it is, it’s his face after all, some decided to tell him he should shave more often, basically telling him what to do, which he saw and read out. Great job.
But all the madness came to a “climax” when Hobi was reading comments and among some other ones read out T*ek*ok, just the word not the T*ek*ok Day ones, and unfortunately we all knew he wasn’t reading out the Korean word for Thailand, which sounds the same though it is spelled a little differently. In that moment all hell broke loose. Focus cams of Tae’s facial expression in that moment went viral among shippers, most of course claiming he looked so happy, while other non-shippers claimed he didn’t look happy at all. It’s a micro moment so I won’t get into it, who knows what Tae thought in that moment and what his facial expression meant and if it even had any connection to the word and Hobi reading it out loud at all.
Because he read that comment, Hobi was basically crowned the new leader of the T*ek*ok shippers (I thought that role already went to Jimin?) and twitter basically had a meltdown.
As for the ring, I know this is something a lot of ships have, with romantic connotations according to their shippers, so I was curious how these rings supposedly look like in T*ek*ok’s case and if they even match the ring that Tae wore in the vlive. If it would, fine, if not, well…
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If it’s not clear from the picture, the “supposed couple” or friendship rings are very delicate and thin, and sure enough I did find a lot of pictures in which both Tae and JK wore them, usually at different times, I will admit that. But the ring Tae wore during their vlive recently was much thicker and had some kind of design on it, therefore it’s a completely different one. Sorry. Why he wore it, if he bought it for himself or received it from someone, what emotional connotation to may or may not have, those are things we won’t know anything about unless he would tell us, so there's no point in speculating.
“Many say it was a Tk*ok day (?) And all three emphasized it” now this is curious to me since I watched the vlive as it was happening, and I didn’t see that at any point in the vlive. Sure, Hobi read that one comment, but if 95% of comments were about that, I wasn’t even surprised by it. Perhaps he thought that it would get people to stop? Perhaps he just read whatever comments his eyes landed on? Perhaps something else entirely? We have no way of knowing it so there is no point in trying to fixate on it. But besides that, they were talking about many other things and having fun making their smoothies, decorating them and just having a good time together with each other and with ARMY. 
So, this way of presenting the vlive basically comes down to shipper perception, confirmation bias, and simply, almost, rewriting history.
Rings do not determine who your best friend is (according to a quick google search, wearing a ring on your index finger simply means friendship or self-esteem/authority), after all many of the members have rings either from each other or ones that match, like Namjoon buying Jimin a Cartier ring for his birthday a few years ago which Jimin proudly wore since it’s really pretty, or pink and blue rings (there are several different ones, actually) that Namjoon has worn with Seokjin in the past (which fits into the Namjinist pink and blue agenda), or the rings Jimin and JK have together according to their shippers, and many more. Jimin and Tae have a whole plethora of matching jewelry in form of necklaces, rings, bracelets, even contact lenses (as in wearing one of each pair to match each other), some which were chosen by their stylists and others they bought themselves for themselves (which are all conveniently “forgotten” by those who ship either big ML ship). Though we’ve seen that even with clothes given by their stylists they were still the ones to choose their own accessories, like Namjoon choosing a pair of glasses from a whole box of different ones, or the members choosing rings from two big boxes before going on stage.
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Tae himself said, on multiple occasions across multiple years, that Jimin is his best friend, even his one and only best friend, and that he’s the one he likes most which he even proclaimed on national TV. As long as Tae doesn’t say that this has changed in the last, what, two weeks and suddenly JK is officially his new best friend, those who claim otherwise are basically nothing but shippers pushing a narrative that willfully ignores Tae’s own words. Just like they ignore and twist his Weverse comment about how T*ek*okers should get out of their imagination. What doesn’t fit is ignored or adjusted until it does fit.
Lastly, sure enough, Tae really was happy during that vlive but I’m fairly certain (though neither you, them or I will ever know for sure, we’re not in Tae’s head) it had absolutely no connection to T*ek*ok Day, something shippers created and not Tae and JK themselves, seeing as Tae has been in a very good and happy mood for a few months now. Whatever makes him so happy, I truly hope it’ll continue making him happy and I wish shippers (and solo stans) would stop trying to force a reason (which fits them) upon his emotions.
I know it’s easy to get confused by how loud shippers are online, especially as young ARMY (in this case both ARMY who are young age wise but also young in the sense of being new to the fandom), but shipper opinions, in many cases, are just noise, and also noise twisted and skewed a certain way to suit them. If you kept to OT7 spaces on the day of that vlive, no one really paid attention to the ring, most were annoyed by and furious at the shamelessness of the shippers in the comments, and tried to just focus on how fun the vlive was instead.
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nurseofren · 3 years
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Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 29 (NSFW-lite)
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Read on AO3 | Read on Wattpad
Read chapter twenty-eight (NSFW)
Title: ASSISTANCE REQUIRED
Words: 5.6k
Summary: I am very uncomfortable with the vibe we have created in the studio Infirmary today...
Warnings: mentions of abuse, suicide
ST Rambles: So... I graduated nursing school. And will be taking my licensure exam next month and start working as well...
In my time away, other than the above mentioned accomplishments, I've been reading a lot of books and even went to see an internet friend just last weekend. Life got insane and I needed to focus on school, and I do appreciate the patience and enthusiasm.
I hope this was worth the wait. I hope the next part will be even more so ;)
[MASTERLIST] || BANNER // @elmidol
Fucking, fuck!
“I know in academy you were told to pierce the skin at a forty-five-degree angle, but it works a lot better if you-,”
“Go in at a fifteen-degree-angle, go parallel to the skin. I know,” you huffed, embarrassment burning your skin. “That’s not the issue. I do that. The issue is-,”
“That is the issue,” Silver corrected, interrupted. Your preceptor-for-all-intents-and-purposes crossed her arms and stared at you with hard, unyielding eyes. “You won’t listen to me,” she spat. “You are the issue.”
Calliope Silvren, or “Silver”, as she’d informed you upon meeting, was everything you were supposed to be. And you hated her for that fact, hated her for that and so much more.
She was intelligent and concise and respected, she knew everything and made sure you were aware that you didn’t. During the past eleven hours, not with so many words, Silver had made it clear that you were never supposed to be here to begin with, that hers was the name in the original provider candidate pool and you were nothing but a fluke, a nobody, nothing.
Compared to Silver, compared to Calliope fucking Silvren, who’d graduated valedictorian, who had star-white hair and golden skin, whose eyes were a harsh sea of frozen cerulean, whose legs were long and lips were full and head was high and posture was perfect – compared to the program’s prototype? What were you other than a fluke? A whim? Compared to her, how were you anything more than the fascination you’d been labeled as from the very start?
As you stared up at her, her height almost that of Kylo’s, and felt the wrath of that frozen sea that resided behind her glare, you couldn’t speak. Every word of defense left you, and your mouth dried and your chest hollowed. Because her words not only rippled through your head but echoed through the unit’s halls so every nurse and physician and maintenance worker had heard them. Heard her and how superior she was, heard how incompetent you were.
Silver knew what she’d done, could feel the eyes of her coworkers gawking at her scolding; you knew by the smallest quirk to her lip, the slightest tick in her platinum brow. She had you trapped and on display, and all you could do was stand here and take it. The Board was watching, and so was Hux – CB-7070 always shadowing ten paces behind – you had no choice but to remain neutral-faced and silent.
She spoke your name and it was beautiful, a voice like sugar even when it slithered and bit like venom, “We’ll pick up tomorrow. If you absolutely need me, I’ll be organizing my report sheets for the oncoming shift.” When no one was looking anymore, her eyes narrowed and she leaned in. “Busy yourself for the next hour.” A sneer slipped past the benevolent mask she wore. “Don’t need me.”
With a steel spine, she whipped past you, stalking off toward her task, the white of her hair streaking from your periphery. And there you were, clutching an IV starter kit – missing the needle, much like you’d missed the vein – trying your hardest to keep from showing any emotion whatsoever. Less people were gawking now that Silver had left, but you still felt eyes on you. Whatever lay in those lingering stares, pity or humor or apathy, it all burned you, reminded you how temporary you were. Not only in this place – the “Infirmary” as the staff referred to it – but in your life, as well.
Smoothing the skirt of your uniform, you cleared your throat and turned to do as you were instructed, catching CB-7070’s visor for a second before peering around the unit. She faced you, and even though you couldn’t see her face, you knew she may be the only one around who was on your side. The white of her helmet glinted as she gave a small nod in your periphery. Yeah, she wasn’t so bad, no matter who she’d report to the second you got back to the Consulate.
The Infirmary was a large unit, and, unlike any place you’d practiced in since graduation, it was efficiently staffed and stocked. Safe nurse-to-patient ratios, sufficient supplies, and an allocated provider available for any emergent orders or treatments. It was a surreal representation of the “hospital utopia” you’d heard of all throughout school.
But, aside from its apparent perfection, some characteristics of the unit confused you, but you didn’t ask about it because no one else seemed to think it was weird, and Silver didn’t exactly foster a great learning environment.
What struck you first was the Infirmary’s construction and layout. It was all glass, floor to ceiling windows that offered full views of each patient in their respective rooms. You’d watched the sun dance across the sky as the day went on, nothing hindering you from the beautiful view of the sea beyond the fanned-out city below. The only thing that offered a semblance of privacy for each patient was the wall-spanning mirror positioned in front of their beds. None of them saw each other, but it was still odd that there seemed to be no concern towards the errant lapse in privacy policy the design created.
At the center was the nurses’ station, large and circular, a skylight fixed right above. The staff used the lack of patient privacy to their advantage, peering above the counter to make sure their assignments were doing alright. Their assignments who were all under the age of twenty. Some much younger, just grasping at adolescence, others kissing young adulthood – those seemed much worse off, something darker rimmed their eyes, ghosted behind the lifeless face all of them wore.
It was a strange environment to be in, even more so due to how vague the progress notes were, history and physicals extremely short and never too in depth, especially when it concerned anything related to the patients’ family history or living situations. Something seemed off, something that tugged at you and made you yearn to break past the flat affect each patient met you with.
So many were here for a few hours and then gone the next, a constant influx of admissions and discharges. But, so strangely, there was never any patient education given, never any parents or guardians for the younger ones to go home to. They were always escorted from the unit by two “official personnel”. And watching their faces as Silver told them they were done with treatment and could leave, it killed you to see the faintest slash of fear quiver their bottom lips.
Beyond that, beyond seeing these younglings so fearful and defenseless, what clawed at your gut the most was that none of them had a name. They had no birthdate information, no address listed, no family contacts entered or even offered. They were all in the system only by the letters “FL” followed by a code of eight numbers. The nurses would refer to them by their room numbers to make it simpler, but none of them shared your concern for the lack of identity these patients were plagued with.
Yes, something seemed off, seemed wrong here. Something waswrong here, but you feared you would be gone before you ever knew what that was.
From the corner of your eye, you saw a tray left on an isolation cart next to a door. Heeding Silver’s command, you approached it, discarding the IV kit and feeling CB-7070’s focus catch your every step. You’d passed this door frequently, never seeing anyone approach it for longer than a few seconds at a time, assuming it was a closet for extra supplies or scanning machines. But the meal card on the tray indicated differently.
This was a patient’s room. The room number matched, there were no other doors labeled with it that you could see. No staff paid you any attention as you peered around. The only one watching was your white-armored shadow standing against a pane of glass.
Shrugging to yourself, feeling you couldn’t possibly get in trouble for delivering a patient’s food, you said over your shoulder to CB-7070, “I’m taking this in. I shouldn’t be long. Don’t follow me in here.” More to yourself, you sighed, “Even if I am the only one here concerned about privacy, I’d prefer not to violate anyone’s rights on my first day.”
CB-7070 nodded. “Affirmative,” her modulator croaked.
A swipe of your new badge gained you access past the door, a whoosh of air whipping through your skirt as it closed behind you. It was pitch dark, the only light coming from a holo-chart programmed into the wall. It appeared you were in an antechamber, those that often came with isolation patients, but there was nothing indicating this patient had any infection or ailment that necessitated a gown or mask.
The air was stale, like nothing and no one had stirred it in a few days, and the only glass visible was that of a window peering into the room beyond – or, it would be peering, were there not closed blinds on the other side of it.
You saw yourself in that darkened pane, clutching the tray to yourself, the first glimpse you caught of your face since the start of shift. Truthfully, you looked awful. Hair frizzed at your temples, a sheen of oil had gathered on your forehead, and exhaustion was evident in the puffy bags beneath your eyes.
But it was an earned appearance, no matter what Silver wanted you and everyone else to believe. Today you did your best and you interpreted and communicated abnormal findings, you assessed every patient without bias and documented everything you did. There were things you were unsure of, not having performed many skills while being assigned to Kylo, but you always asked for help, even though you realized it would be met with disgruntled aggravation after the first few times.
You had done everything right, understanding the consequences if you didn’t. As far as you were concerned, and even as much doubt as she’s caused you in the singular day you’ve known her, Silver was the problem. Not you.
And, not for nothing, the IV you missed earlier… not entirely your fault.
Kylo Ren picked the wrong day to Force-edge you. Or maybe it was you who really initiated the torture, but he’d been the one to follow through with his threat. Every hour had been memorable.
The first three had luckily occurred when you were away from patients but did earn you a few wary glances from the unit staff, your jaw set firm as you gave them a reassuring nod, hoping they couldn’t see how badly you were shaking as your cunt spasmed toward orgasm, but never got there.
There was something vicious in the rate at which he was forcing you toward the edge. Even though you couldn’t see or hear him, you felt like he was tormenting you with spite in mind rather than pleasure, like something you’d said or thought had angered him.
You didn’t have much time to consider that, though, as the hours went on and you’d begged the stars that the slick slipping from your center wouldn’t go past the hem of your dress. A few times you’d cursed the damned uniform, but quickly turned to cursing Kylo Ren for the ever-so-slightly too high hem. It’d surprised you that he never acted on those silent curses aimed at him, that it hadn’t earn you another hour riding the edge of pleasure while choking down the gasps and moans he’d surely intended to draw from you.
During lunch, you’d found a corner and ate alone, speaking to the wall and scorning Kylo under your breath, spitting empty threats, telling him to stop, to slow down. When that hadn’t worked and the Force picked up in pattern and pressure, nudging your clit just right, your hands had clamped around a plastic fork as you held on for dear life. He was nowhere near you and you’d almost cum four times over the course of your twenty-five-minute break. At that point, you’d considered begging him to let you cum, but part of you knew that would only lengthen his schemes.
Other times during shift, when Silver was rolling her eyes when you’d asked for her help, you’d felt the light, teasing lance of the Force trail along your neck. When you were priming tubing for a new admission, you’d felt the strange, unseen presence caress your ear like Kylo’s tongue might. And one hour, right after the previous had left you wondering if you’d be able to stand the next time you needed to – that hour where you’d traded your curses for pleading, traded the harshness you were spitting for the simple, hushed breaths you needed to outlast the never-ending torrent of pleasure he kept surging through you – the Force was kinder, something sentimental in the way it’d weighted your body like Kylo would, draped itself along your shoulders as sweat dried on your brow and the shaking of your legs settled.
A delicate, “Thank you,” had breathed over your lips when the Force – when Kylo’s teasing – seemed it would let up for the remainder of your shift.
But, of course, that peace had been temporary, a strategy to lapse your guard, to make you vulnerable when you’d most needed a clear mind and a steady hand. It had started with the gentle lulls you’d been left with, a stroking tendril swift over the column of your neck, the tourniquet tight to the patient’s arm as you poked their forearm in search of a vein. And when you informed Silver you’d found one, the Force deftly switched its attention to your pussy.
Silver had been scrutinizing you before, but when your shaking hand and short, shallow breaths appeared as fear instead of the pleasure they were born from, her brow had narrowed that much more. When you’d anchored the vein and aligned the needle – at her all-important fifteen-degree angle – your hand had shifted, jumped as your thighs tightened and you fought to trap a moan in your throat. It was an accident that the needle pierced the patient – and, worse, through the vein – at a greater angle, and it wrought you with emotion. Guilt for hurting the patient, shame for screwing up under Silver’s icy appraisal, and unyielding anger for Kylo Ren for causing your fuck up and not being able to explain that.
So here you were, taking the brunt of criticism and punishment for a mistake you wouldn’t have made had it not been for Kylo Ren, and studying your reflection in the scant light offered from the holo-chart of a patient you hadn’t known existed up until three minutes ago.
“Kylo,” you breathed, reaching for the second badge-scanner, “I can’t look bad here. The Board is watching. Hux is watching.” You glimpsed the radar fastened to your wrist, directing your tired eyes at Kylo’s indicator like he could feel your attention on him. “Give me this last hour and let me be good. Let me do well. Let me prove that I can to everyone who believes otherwise.”
A few seconds passed by as you waited for a reaction. Nothing came. The Force remained absent from you, and your shoulders dropped in relief. With a final glance at the chart, noting the patient’s identifier and checking it against the meal ticket, you swiped your badge and the entrance rushed open.
Darkness met you once more, but this darkness was heavier somehow. Not in the way untouched rooms are usually heavy – not with dust or grime – but a heaviness that clutched at your heart. It pressed into you, taunted you even as you remained a step outside the threshold. It was only shadows, unmoving and unremarkable darkness, but it clawed at you. It writhed at your feet and stirred your heart.
This was the darkness that lived behind each of those younglings’ eyes, but here it was concentrated, like this was the very source of it. Like this was its home.
“Hello?” you croaked, still not daring to pass into the shadow-thick room.
No answer, not even a stir. Nothing but that unyielding darkness.
You cleared your throat. “I, um, I have your dinner.” You took a small step forward. “Sorry for the wait… if there was one.”
More of the same. More of nothing.
A light switch entered your periphery with your next step, and you reached for it, but before you could flip it—
“If I wanted it on, do you think I’d be sitting in here like this?”
The voice was weak, small, but not that of a child. Not even that of an ill person, or an elderly one. It was male, though. Boyish, but not a boy’s. Somehow, the voice was young and old at the same time, as if the boy had lived long years already, and those years had worn him down.
The voice was a singular stream against the dark’s thick, silent wrath, and it was hollow, empty like the shadows before you should be. As the question ended, you found that it wasn’t bitterness or pain that lived in its tone, but rather a broken apathy, like whoever this was had cared and fought for so long but had ultimately lost in the end.
“Not that anyone here is really concerned about what I want,” came the voice again, an edge weighting its words.
Finally, you stepped completely into the room. You had to swallow a gasp when the entrance at your back locked shut. The tray jostled in your arms, but you succeeded at remaining upright.
With a sugary tone, you asked, “How will you eat if you can’t see your food?”
A huffed laugh, tired and bitter. “You should work on that nurse voice. Not very convincing.” A long, deep breath filled a few otherwise silent moments. “Send that tray back. Give it to someone who wants it.”
Without your “nurse voice”, you said, “Why did you order it—”
“—I didn’t. I never do. I’m being kept here, why would I want to sustain myself to make my stay that much longer?”
“Kept?” you whispered.
The longer you stood in place, the more your eyes adjusted. The room was still suffocated by the swamp of darkness, but there was some light after all. Scant, but there, a beam of the setting sun speared the room, and from what you had begun to make out of the body in front of you – a small form curled in the center of a bed – you found he was staring out of the broken blinds from which it came, like he was looking at something. Looking forsomething.
“Kept. Held prisoner. Restrained but not restrained because thatwould make this whole operation illegal, right? Whatever way you want to put it, I’ve made it obvious I don’t want to be here.” A long pause and a sad sigh. “Starvation is a better fate than most here, anyway.”
The more he spoke, the clearer it became that his voice wasn’t hollow, but burning with quiet fury. For what, you weren’t sure, but you realized this was the first patient who had spoken all day. And his tone, his words, only solidified the fact that there was something very, very wrong going on.
You walked closer to him, past the foot of his bed until you saw where the small slant of light was focused, what he continued to brokenly fawn over.
“What are you looking at?” you asked, leaning down so you could match your view with his.
He turned his head from the mostly covered window, the creak of light only possible through a bend in the blinds, and he looked at you, a flash of realization spreading through his features before he reined his expression into a void of dull emotion.
He stared at you as you stared at him, appraising you just the same. He was young, but it appeared as though his youth had been leeched from him. Long dark brunette curls framed his face and teased his shoulders, heavy with oil inherent of unkemptness. An immense sadness lived in the downturned state of his mouth, a contrasting anger set in the crease of his brow. And when you finally found his eyes, you restrained a shiver, as the deep hazel burned with that cleave of sun and struck you with the anvil of pain and desperation that lived in them.
He wasn’t alarmed at your proximity but confused. With a shaky voice, and something of a weak sneer biting at his mouth, he said, “You’re a sick, brutal cunt, you know that?”
“What? What do you—”
“What am I looking at? Do not patronize me!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Are you stupid or just cruel?”
“I’m not either, I—”
“You’re both!”
“I’m temporary! I don’t work here! I’ve been here for one shift! I’ve been on this planet for one day!”
Without missing a beat, but less heated and more restrained, the boy said, “Just stupid then.”
He continued to glare at you, but your eyes wandered back to the break in the blinds, and with narrowed eyes you found something that resembled a racing track. It was far out in the distance, but you knew that was what he had been focused on, sure of it by the way his demeanor shifted when you looked back down at him.
“Help me understand, then, if I am so stupid,” you whispered.
“You aren’t any different from the others, no matter if you’re temporary or not. Whatever that means, anyway.” The boy’s jaw set so firm you swore you heard it crack. “You don’t want to understand. If you did, if anyone cared so much, the Infirmary wouldn’t exist.”
“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Help me?” the boy barked. He considered you for a moment, sun and shadow warring across the hollows of his cheeks as he did. Those pained eyes narrowed a fraction. “Who are you? What does temporary mean?”
You leaned away from him, straightening your posture and setting his tray on a counter off to the side. You offered your name, just the first, and dragged an absent-minded finger over the embroidery of your uniform. “Temporary means…”
Perhaps it was his already non-existent trust in you, but you did not think that informing him of the real reason you were here – telling him that your license and life were on the line and you were here so the Board of Physicians would have ease in their decision to end your life or not – would do much to foster his confidence in you, you took a second to frame it in a way that would appeal to him.
Clearing your throat, you kept his stare and said, “Temporary means that I’m here for less than two weeks, and I have no loyalties to any staff here. Temporary means that I do care so much, and I do want to help because temporary also means that I’ve seen some weird shit today, and I don’t understand it.” The boy’s brows raised for a fragmented second, but you knew you’d gained at least a small portion of his respect, so you continued.
With a lowered voice and an unbreakable stare, you said, “Temporary means that I am on your side, and if you let me, if you help me to understand what is going on, I will help you as best as I can.”
The boy shifted, ringing a hand around his opposite wrist, toying with the identification band secured there. He never stopped looking into your eyes, and you knew he was searching for deceit, but the longer he stared, the more he came up short.
You offered him your hand, observing how he flinched away from it, but keeping it extended as he considered it for another few moments.
“I told you who I am. Will you tell me who you are?”
It seemed like the darkness that surrounded you was watching with bated breath, watching in awe as the boy’s gaze remained on your extended hand.
He swallowed, and ever so slowly, with a hesitation that struck through your heart, he lifted his hand and clasped it around yours. The light from the broken blinds coiled around your matched hands, and for the first time today, you felt hopeful. And no matter how dim and breathless it was, a flicker of that same hopefulness played through his eyes.
“I…” the boy hesitated, so you squeezed his hand and offered a reassuring nod. His shoulders relaxed with his next breath. “I am Quynnland. With a ‘Y’.”
“Quynnland,” you parroted, trying it out and letting his hand go. “Do you have any nicknames? Like Quynn? Quynnie?”
“No one calls me Quynnie!” he roared. “Nobody calls me that except…” Quynnland shifted in bed, away from you, turning his face back toward that racing track. His bottom lip quivered, and he appeared as if you’d just lashed him with molten plasma.
“Quynnland,” you soothed, “nobody calls you that except who?”
He remained quiet, but he shuddered, and you saw the light glint off a stream that found its way down the slate of his cheek.
“I want to understand. I want to help you.” You swallowed against your throat, which had become markedly thicker since you last spoke. “Please, help me help you.”
Quynnland’s chin rose, his eyes fell shut, and he balled his hands into tight fists. He wasn’t angry, but in pain, and you knew from the sight of how broken he was that he’d been in pain for a long time now. Perhaps, it seemed, he had never known a day without it.
Just when you were about to speak, Quynnland coughed against a sob and whispered, “They won’t let me see him. He’s there on his own. He’s never been alone for this long.” A tight breath whipped into his chest. “They’re keeping me here so I age out. They’re keeping me away from him.”
“Who is he? What are you aging out of?” The more he offered, the more questions you thought of.
“I almost got us out this time,” he whispered. “I almost saved us both, but they caught me and dragged me away from him. He’s young, but that never stopped them before.” A wheeze of pain slipped from Quynnland’s lips. “They probably broke him just enough so he could still work.”
You didn’t know what to say to that, so you kept quiet.
After what seemed like an eternity, Quynnland spoke again. “My brother. That’s who gets to call me ‘Quynnie’. That’s who I tried to save, and that’s who is suffering because I failed.” He pushed an aggravated sound from his lungs. “The only way you can help me, is if you help him.”
“How do I do that?” you asked, watching as his fists relaxed at his sides.
Quynnland opened his eyes and bore the full weight of their pain into yours. He took a long breath and squared his jaw. “You get him away from the wardens, and then you get him out.”
“Where is he?” you asked, needing to know what that racing track he kept glancing toward was.
He went to answer, but a rush of motion sounded beyond his door, and just as quickly, the entrance to his room shot open. Quynnland ducked his head and balled his fists, and you turned to see that it was Silver who stood in his doorway. She wore an unfamiliar face, one of shock and terror, and you went to speak, but her hand whipped out and signaled that you would notbe saying a word until you left this room.
She stared at Quynnland a moment longer, surveying him like she’d never seen him before. “Eat your dinner. I won’t have you starving to death under my license, not now that this will be your last stay here.” Silver more so talked at him rather than directly to him, and her tone was hard and full of disgust.
It gave you another reason to hate her.
You wanted to reach out and take Quynnland’s hand, but Silver snapped at you before you could. “You,” she sneered. “Out. Now.”
The ice behind her eyes had seeped to her tongue, and her words froze the very blood in your veins. She watched you as you stepped around her and into the antechamber, and you glanced the final withering, aghast glare she shot at Quynnland as you did.
When you reached toward the door that opened to the hall, Silver caught your wrist just before your badge met it. She was eerily silent for a moment, and you swore she was practically shaking with rage, but then she settled herself and stared down at you with such concentrated antagonization that it knocked the breath right from your lungs.
“What made you think you could go into this room? I never went near this room with you today. Why would you be allowed to enter it alone?” She was seething, but she hid it behind something of a gnarled smile.
“There was a tray just sitting outside, unattended to. I figured I would find something to do and deliver it to the patient. No harm done.”
She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes on you. “Are you aware what this patient is here for?” she asked sweetly, but it came off as clear condescension.
Silver waited for you to answer, but you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction she wanted from humiliating you again. So you remained silent, and she sneered at you. “Exactly what I thought. So why would you interact with a patient you know nothing about? And did the double security not tip you off that you were somewhere you shouldn’t be?”
“Look, Silver,” you huffed, enjoying the disgust that smeared across her features as you said her name, “I saw a tray. I had nothing better to do. My badge had access to the room. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
She cast you an undying glare, and her eye twitched when she gave you a once-over. “This patient willfully tried to kill himself and his brother last week. Did he tell you that?”
Your heart blackened, and your ears rang with silence as she let her words sink in.
Silver was pleased with your shocked silence. She went on. “Oh, and did he tell you just how many times he’s tried to do this exact thing in the past?” You remained wordless, feeling betrayed for reasons you couldn’t understand. “No? Not even a guess? Well, he’s a unit regular, if that gives any indication.”
She waited again and was once more elated to be met with silence. “It’s the same story every time. The wardens say he takes his kid brother to the shore and plans on swimming out to the Falls and either drowning to death or dying from impact.”
You swallowed in vain, mouth drier than sand. A part of your knew you didn’t want the answer, but you still asked, “How old… how old is his brother?”
A sick, deathly smile creaked across her perfect face. “Of course, we don’t know exactly, but previous scans estimate that he’s no older than seven.”
Seven. A child. Quynnland had tried to kill his brother… had tried to kill himself and his kid brother…
“Next time, don’t poke around business you don’t understand,” Silver cut your panic short, her frigid tone icing your skin with gooseflesh. “Your shift is up.”
She shoved your shoulder on her way past, but before she could activate the door the room filled with bright red light, and a shrill alarm screamed through the ruby darkness.
It was your watch.
Endless, screeching notes sounded from your wrist. Your stomach dropped, and you couldn’t think for a moment, completely thrown back to that last hour on Starkiller Base.
Kylo was in trouble. Kylo was hurt. Kylo needed you and you weren’t there.
When you lifted your arm as your heart sank through the floor and you read the continuous scrawling message, your feet pounded the ground and carried you away from the unit to wherever he was, wherever your radar was guiding you.
All you could think of was him lying under you, his blood slipping along your skin, and his still, comatose body. And as you made your way to him, not seeing the world around you, hardly aware of CB-7070’s footfalls booming behind you, you kept rereading the message that raced along your watch’s screen, and as you turned corner after corner and fled down hundreds of steps and staircases, the simple, abbreviated message taunted you with the past.
ASSISTANCE REQUIRED ASSISTANCE REQUIRED ASSISTANCE REQUIRED
As it scrawled endlessly across the small screen, all you could think of was how this felt too familiar to the day Starkiller exploded. And the only thought that remained, the only one out of the thousand that flooded back from that day, was that you would fight for the future you’d realized you wanted then.
Only now did you admit the full truth of that thought: the only future you wanted was one where you could be with Kylo. The only future worth having, you realized, was the one where you would spend it with him.
So you ran toward your future. Just as you had run that day not so long ago, you ran toward Kylo Ren.
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seventhstrife · 3 years
Text
SubScorp Week 2021 Day 3: AU Part 1
I love AUs. *points at AUs* That’s my house. I live there. LOLOLOL
A bit violent, but chances are if you’re an MK fan that warning literally won’t even be worth mentioning lol
Read it on AO3.
Part 2
Hanzo heard the sounds of battle long before he saw it.
It was abominably cold in the mountains and icy wind and the first flakes of snow cut through the air in a punishing gale. He could not imagine what would drive anyone from shelter to fight in such conditions, and it was this thought that compelled him closer rather than away, as he normally would. Avoiding detection had become rote for him, but a fight in such a storm spoke of desperation, and Hanzo could not ignore that.
Through thick clusters of black, snow-capped trees and frozen bracken, Hanzo quickly traversed the forest, brows furrowing as the sounds of combat grew louder. There were shouts, angry and excited, but they were barely heard over the incensed, furious din of unholy roars that threatened to drown them out completely. As Hanzo drew closer, he noticed that the air grew impossibly colder, enough that his throat stung as shards of ice tried to crowd his mouth as he breathed. He pulled the fabric of his scarf higher, over his nose, and it only slightly helped.
He tracked the incredible noise, deep, deeper, until finally he saw light, fire from torches, and saw the black silhouettes of many men in a clearing.
But, he realized, it was not a natural clearing. As he drew closer, the beast he heard revealed itself not to be a bear or large boar, but something much bigger and far, far deadlier.
It bore a coat of resplendent white scales that shined in the moonlight like crystal and each angry slash of its long, trailing tail and claws felled men and trees alike. It opened its wide snout, glistening with fresh-spilled blood, and spat great columns of ice at its attackers. The men, while far weaker, had the advantage of numbers. While the beast had incredible power, it could only focus on so many at once, and each time it had to give its back or flanks to deal with a threat, it received a score of spears in its side that bled profusely as the blades dug deep. Its incensed, agonized cries shook the forest and rattled Hanzo's very bones.
Shock kept Hanzo frozen where he stood underneath the shadowed cover of the forest, just outside the edge of the clearing, shadowed in darkness.
A dragon. He'd heard tales, of course, but that was all they had been: legends, myths, a story told to caution children from straying too far from home. He hadn't truly believed in them until now.
It was none of his business. These men were mercenaries, he could tell by their garb, their demeanor, and revealing himself risked his capture. There was nothing Hanzo wanted more than his freedom and stepping forward now put that at risk.
The dragon cried out once more, a fierce growl of anger and pain and Hanzo's heart lurched in his chest.
The sheer number of men spoke to this being a hunt, and Hanzo empathized, more than he wanted to. Such a magnificent creature, hunted like mere game. So that these men could harvest pieces of its corpse for trophies and sell its head to hang in some wealthy, stupid lord's hall.
Hanzo clenched his hand into the bark of the tree he had pressed himself behind.
The beast spat another stream of ice, but another spear in its side cut off the attack. There was another teeth-rattling, heart-rending cry, and it took a few unsteady steps back—quite near Hanzo's hiding place.
The long neck wavered as a final, warbling cry issued, and then it stumbled, dropped, and the large head fell to the ground with a deafening crash.
It panted there, still, as ice flakes billowed from its mouth in thin, reedy huffs. Dark blood, nearly black, steamed in the snow, and the men raised gleaming, bloody weapons in the moonlight, shouting in exultant victory.
Hanzo could not tear his gaze away when the dragon opened its large, hazy white eyes, like iridescent pearls, and looked straight at him.
Hanzo sucked in a sharp breath. A great scar ran straight down across one side of its face, over one huge, milky white eye, and as he stared into them, those eyes...they were not the eyes of a mindless beast. They were the eyes of another living thing, that could feel pain, that knew death was coming and knew it would not be merciful. The intelligence Hanzo witnessed in its gaze made the decision for him.
Perhaps he was a fool. But if he survived, he would be a fool that would sleep well tonight.
The shouts of victory turned to ones of shock and fear when a ring of fire encircled the clearing.
Hanzo stepped out, hands ablaze, and unsheathed his daggers.
"You will not leave this place."
His appearance only whipped their bloodlust into a fever pitch. The thought of bagging two rare prizes in one night was an opportunity gleefully seized, but in their excitement, they were uncoordinated, and Hanzo's blades ended the lives of four men before they fully realized he was upon them.
The dragon had culled their numbers significantly, and that was perhaps the only reason he survived. He was not unscathed—it was impossible to fight nearly a dozen men without incurring a few injuries—but it was nothing time and rest would not heal. Seconds, or hours, might have passed before Hanzo slid the last body from his sword, and when his ears only rang with echoing silence, his trembling legs collapsed and he fell to the snow-covered ground, weary, and panted in exhaustion.
He had not fully caught his breath when another plaintive, rumbling cry reached him.
Blinking, Hanzo wearily rolled over, braced an elbow in the cold ground so that he could see.
The dragon had not moved but for its head, which had weakly risen to better see Hanzo. Thankfully, it did not seem aggressive, and there was something almost curious about its gaze as they stared at one another.
A part of Hanzo still couldn't believe he was a mere few feet away from such a creature, but he forced himself past the awe and tiredly pushed himself to his feet.
When he drew near, taking wary, cautious steps should the beast lash out, what he saw made him grimace.
Broken off spears and arrows had made their homes in the dragon's flesh. The dragon was so large he did not fear that removing them would cause it to bleed out, but the pain would be incredible.
Hanzo darted another glance at the dragon, found those large, pearly eyes fixed unwaveringly on him.
"I need to remove these," he explained quietly, voice rough. He did not have much cause to speak these days and it was a struggle to raise his voice enough to be heard.
Slowly, telegraphing his movements as plainly as possible, Hanzo seized a spear near the flesh it pierced.
Hanzo met the dragon's eyes one last time. "Please do not kill me." And he quickly pulled the spear free.
The dragon roared, and it was as jarring as before—worse, because Hanzo was so near. But it did not lash out, and aside from the cry, it held itself still and tense, as if it had been prepared for Hanzo's actions.
Even so, Hanzo did not move until the beast had quieted, and even then, he waited just a bit longer, heart racing. When he looked back to the wound, he was surprised to see that it was already healing, slow and creeping, but its flesh was indeed stitching itself together before his eyes.
"Incredible," he murmured. It made a strange sort of sense, that the dragon was magic, but it was still an amazing thing to behold.
He tried to find the perfect marriage between speed and carefulness as he went through the arduous task of freeing the dragon from the numerous arrows and spears that were stuck in its flesh, but it still took a great deal of time. Once, he had to remove a spear whose end was forked, and when finally he eased it from the flesh, the dragon mustered the strength to lift its great head.
It leveled Hanzo with such a look of approach, he felt his lips twitch despite himself.
"Apologies," he murmured, and the dragon huffed.
When he finally finished, a great deal of time had passed and Hanzo was not sure which of them was more exhausted by the end. His work was not quite done, however, as he eyed a wound that was deeper than the rest—a lucky sword swipe, he thought, and it bled faster and greater than all the other wounds.
His ears were still ringing from the dragon's pained roars, and he did not look forward to what he had to do next.
"You are not healing as quickly, here." He touched near the large gash with a frown. "I must cauterize your wound, or you will bleed out."
Those large, pale eyes just stared. There was no way to tell if it understood him and Hanzo hoped that it could; otherwise, what he was about to do would not go over well.
He put a soothing hand on the beast's flank and his other glowed, white-hot as he focused on bringing his flames to a fine point of concentrated heat.
"Brace yourself," he murmured, and then he pressed his palm, fingers curled, against the largest gash on the dragon's side.
To his immense relief, while the beast roared loud enough that his heart nearly gave out, it did not lash out and crush Hanzo with a swipe of a claw or freeze him right there where he knelt.
Hanzo apologized again in a quiet mutter, wincing. In order to make sure the wound was fully covered and that he did the job as thoroughly as possible so he would not have to perform a second pass, he was forced to go slowly. The scent of cooked flesh and singed scales grew strong enough to make his eyes water and his nose burn.
But aside from that initial roar, the dragon was silent. The great, muscular body was drawn tight and a sheen soon covered its body as it began to sweat. It trembled, very faintly, whether from the pain, the effort of holding itself back, or from fear, Hanzo was not sure, and guilt swamped him for inflicting more pain on a creature that had already borne more than its fair share. When he finally finished, it was a toss-up between which of them who was more relieved.
Hanzo fell back and sat in the snow, hands bracing him up behind his back and head hanging as he panted from the exertion of drawing forth such a precise flame of incredible heat. The dragon's head flopped down similarly and its sigh made the night air even cooler. If Hanzo hadn't been a pyromancer, he could not imagine how he would endure this.
Eventually, the sound of movement pried Hanzo's eyes open and he wearily raised his head, squinting.
The dragon's overlarge head loomed close and its large, milky eyes seemed to stare right through him.
Hanzo froze and he dared not even breathe. Even as he tended to its wounds, he had never quite beaten back his awe and humbled reverence of such a large, fearsome creature, one that could kill him with laughable ease, and in this moment, despite nearly a lifetime of fighting mercenaries and bounty-hunters alike, he had never been more aware of his own mortality.  
And just when Hanzo thought it might open that wide jaw and take a bite of him after all, instead, it closed its eyes and nudged his chest.
But a nudge from a beast of that size was substantial enough that it sent him flat on his back with a surprised grunt.
The sensation of icy snow chilling his skin through his cloak was unpleasant, but he could not dwell on it for longer than a single instant before that great head was back, pressing into Hanzo's chest. It rubbed its face there for several long moments and, after a beat of hesitance, where his arms hovered—torn between pushing the dragon away and fearing for his limbs should he try it—Hanzo realized the beast was—showing affection, in a way.
Tentatively, Hanzo laid his hands on either side of the dragon's head. When it didn't immediately rear back and maul him, Hanzo slowly rubbed the smooth scales, marveling at the texture, like river rocks, utterly without edge after centuries of withstanding the current, yet his hands were completely dry.
A sound left the beast, a low rumble of contentment, and Hanzo only recognized it as such because he'd already heard what it sounded like angry and this did not match those earlier, defiant roars.
Crushed and seemingly trapped in the snow as he pet a dragon, Hanzo sighed.
"...You are welcome," he said softly.
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deejadabbles · 3 years
Text
A Thousand Songs (Atem/Yami x Reader)
Chapter One: We Are Broken
One /// Two /// Three /// Four /// [Five Coming Soon]
Summary: You knew that you and your band could make it big. Not only that, but stay together while doing it; the five of you were family, after all. The only problem was that despite all your musical talents...none of you were particularly good at lyrics. After years of struggling to put out your first full album, the solution finally made himself know in chance meeting on an empty stage.
Rock Band AU, Atem x Reader, gender neutral reader.
A.N.  Woo look at me, starting a new series before I finish my current ones. Don't hate me I have the attention span of a squirrel! I know band AUs are pretty cheesy but I don't care, this idea has been floating in my head for awhile and it's super cute okay?? I was also going to wait to post this until all the chapters were done but I couldn't control myself anymore. These chapters will be much shorter than my usual length so hopefully that means I can update faster??? I won't make any promises but I'll try. Anywho, I hope you guys like fashionable, sensitive Atem because that's who'll be featured in this fic <3 The reader's gender is never mentioned but I will admit I tended to lean more towards songs sung by women in this, I don't really think that matters though (I have Atem sing songs originally sung by women so...). I really hope you guys like this series and I'll love to hear your thoughts <3 Also: @ohyema​ This is the series I told you about all that time ago lol
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I am outside
And I've been waiting for the sun
With my wide eyes
I've seen worlds that don't belong
My mouth is dry
With words I cannot verbalize
Tell me why
We live like this
The crowd was small, as always, but it was enough. Anyone hearing your songs was enough for now, or so you told yourself week after week. You felt Yugi’s eyes on you as you leaned away from the mic, plucking the cords of your Stratocaster for the brief solo and you looked to your left to see him smiling at you; always the positive optimist, the sun that shone on you and the rest of the band.
You flashed him the briefest smile in return before turning back to the mic. If you closed your eyes, got lost in Anzu’s keys, Jou’s steady beats, and Honda’s strings, you could almost pretend you were playing in front of a packed venue. One full of fans solely there to hear music, and not just a dozen or so patrons who enjoyed the music as a backdrop to their late-night drinks.
Keep me safe inside
Your arms like towers
Tower over me
You could have sworn you heard another voice in the crowd join yours as the chorus came. Ah, so there was an actual fan in the crowd.
Cause we are broken
What must we do to restore
Our innocence
And all the promise we adored?
Give us life again
Cause we just wanna be whole
Your eyes fluttered back open for the briefest second and through the smoky haze in the room, you saw that someone at the bar was holding up their phone, camera aimed at the stage. That managed to make you smile, at least you had someone’s attention.
Lock the doors
Cause I'd like to capture this voice
It came to me tonight
So everyone will have a choice
And under red lights
I'll show myself it wasn't forged
We're at war
We live like this
“Are you guys on SoundCloud or anything? Cos that was pretty awesome!” asked a young man who looked barely old enough to be in the bar at all.
You were just helping Yugi pack away his turntables, having finished your set and wishing the small crowd a good night. The young man was with two others, all of them looking enthused as they stood at the base of the small stage. The girl even giggled when Honda winked at her.
Yugi, as usual, was the one to speak up and pulled out a small leather folder from his back pocket. “Yeah, we are actually! We also have a youtube channel,” he pulled cards from the folder, black cardstock with your band’s name, logo, and media accounts scrawled across it in gold text. He handed one to each in the trio, smile still bright on his face, “Check us out if you get the chance, we’re trying to put out a new album this summer, so we should have plenty of new songs to listen to soon.”
With a few ‘cool man’s and ‘awesome’s, the trio wandered back to the bar, the one who had spoken already pulling out his phone with the card in hand, and the girl waving at Honda over her shoulder.
“You know you shouldn’t get their hopes up,” Anzu whispered as she set her keyboard case at the foot of the stage, “Two songs does not an Album make- we have no clue when we’ll actually have it out!”
“Well,” you chimed in, clicking one of Yugi’s several cases closed, “Maybe telling new fans to expect more from us will finally light a fire under our song-writing-asses.” When Jonouchi opened his mouth, that cheeky look on his face, you held up your hand to silence him, “And yes, I know I procrastinate too much, I’m to blame too.”
Yugi lifted two of his cases- and answered after Jou jumped in to take the heavier of the two, “I still think all of us should take a week's vacation, lock ourselves in our studio and work on the album together. Only getting together a few times a week is what’s really killing us I think- we can’t get into a creative groove!”
You and Anzu exchanged a look, knowing full well that neither of your bills would appreciate the week's loss in pay. Still, maybe it was something that you guys could find a way to work out. Then again, there was another idea that had been brewing in the back of your mind for a while now, and you weren’t sure if it was really something that the others in your band would go for...like, at all.
“I don’t know, a week probably wouldn’t even be long enough,” Honda chimed in after slinging his guitar case over his shoulder, grabbing an amp in the free hand.
Jou nodded as you all started filing out the bar’s back door, “I’m still thinking that gettin’ together every single night until the album’s done is the best way to go, even if it’s just for a few hours!”
This was the usual road the song writing debate took, or at least, how it usually went the past month or so, and soon enough the topic came to a standstill, as it usually did.
After loading up Jonouchi’s truck with your equipment, Honda gave the suggestion of stopping for some burgers at the 24 hour joint down the road, a common ritual after your monthly gig at “The Bandit’s Den”. As usual, Jou parked in the space best visible from the front windows of the dinner, and the five of you were glad to find that not another soul sat at the tables.
After settling at your usual booth and ordering, Yugi actually splayed his hands out on the table, looking rather determined. “You don’t start work until seven tomorrow. Right?” he asked you.
“Yeah?”
“I think we should take another trip to the station.”
You actually had to repress a sigh at that. Yugi was all about trying to trigger inspiration for songs, and the “station” referred to an old train station on the outskirts of town. You guys had discovered it long ago and were eager to use it in a music video, but were waiting for the perfect song to go with it. Sure, the old giant clock and brick stairs were a perfect setting, but it had only sparked a line or two of lyrics, nothing to make a full song.
Out of the five of you, most of the lyric writing fell on your’s and Yugi’s shoulders, with Anzu, Honda, and Jonouchi giving occasional input. Since you were the lead singer most seemed to think you would be the natural lyric maker, but the truth was that, despite your talent in singing and playing the lead guitar, lyrics just weren’t your forte. You’d had some luck when teaming up with Yugi, his emotional maturity helping you work through the written expressions, but that only went so far. Yugi also tried things like this, exercises and field trips in the hopes that it would spark creativity.
“How many times have we been to the station before, Yugi?” you asked, “I just don’t think it’s the oracle of inspiration we all hoped it would be. I still want to film there some time, but I don’t wanna take time out to visit it again, I’ll just get annoyed when it doesn’t lead to anything.”
Yugi’s set expression seemed to blink away, replaced with something almost like guilt, “Okay, I was just trying to think of something to get our inspiration flowing…”
Now you’re the one who felt guilty. “I know...hey maybe we could try something new? Like we could go some other place or try some different way to spark our heads?” you suggested, trying to sound positive.
Yugi’s eyebrows lifted in interest, but he was cautious when he asked, “Like what?”
“I…” you trailed off when your mind came up blank. It remained blank even as your eyes trailed over the entirety of the empty dinner as well as the dark scenery outside. A growl of frustration left your throat as you face planted on the table, “I don’t know!”
You heard Yugi giggle as he reached out and patted your head. Beside him, Jonouchi said, “What you need is some brain food! That’s sure to help some ideas come- ah! And here’s our feast now!”
Even though the food was good, kick-start your brain, it did not. If anything the meal just made you more sleepy, even as you guys chatted over the next hour before paying the tab and piling back into Jou’s truck.
Like always the next stop was the studio, the home and hideaway for you and your friends. For a small-time band whose biggest fame was on Youtube, all of you were actually quite proud of your studio. Yugi’s grandfather owned a few rental properties, and since the building wasn’t fitting for a residential space, nor in a part of town that would serve a shop well, he had agreed to give you guys the small building in exchange for help around his game shop every week.
Working together to make the space your own was some of the best memories you had with your oldest friends; going to second-hand shops to gather fitting set pieces, saving up for the sound dampeners so you could record your songs without paying a big-time studio, setting up the back room with tattered old furniture and a mini-fridge that was sure to break down any day.
The only thing that beat those days were the times you actually spent in the studio; rehearsing, recording your few music videos, spending downtime together writing new music on lumpy bean bag chairs and worn rugs (and definitely getting distracted by each other every ten minutes).
The night was late enough that no one bothered the five of you as you unloaded the truck, and soon enough all of you were taking your usual spots in the back room (Anzu sprawling out on the battered chaise, Jonouchi and Yugi filling up the loveseat, Honda falling onto a pair of beanbags, and you plopping down in the hammock chair).
“Alright you guys, I’m just going to come out and say it,” Anzu sighed after a few moments of hanging off the arm of her seat, “We need help writing our songs.”
You actually sat up as straight as you could in your chair and peered over at her- had she really just said what you had been thinking of saying for weeks?!
When she saw your look, something like panic colored her face as she waved her hands, “Not that I don’t think you’re a good writer! The songs you came up with were awesome! ...But-”
You waved off her concern, the hard motion causing your hammock to spin a little, “No- no, Anzu, I totally agree! I just didn’t know if I should bring it up...”
Even if you hadn’t thought of it too, Anzu had plenty of reason to think you needed help. In the whole four years since your group had started the band, from the first days sitting in class drawing up logo ideas, you had only written six original songs- and that included the two that were meant to go on your new album. You had gotten by with relying on covers to fill out your live sets and media accounts and making a host of excuses for the lack of originality.
“You really think bringing in another bandmate’s a good idea?” Honda chimed in, eyes narrow as he leaned back in his beanbag chair.
“Yeah, we don’t wanna end up like half the other bands out there,” Jonouchi chimed in, seeming to subconsciously pull Yugi closer to his side, “you guys know the only reason our band works is because we get each other- we’re family! We can’t just bring another person into that, it’ll ruin it and maybe even break us up!”
Yugi put a hand over Jonouchi’s, “Hey hey, slow down, don’t you think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves? First of all, bands hire ghostwriters all the time, and they don’t always join the band. Besides... I don’t know, if the person’s really cool, would it be that bad to have another member?”
“We could always have them ghostwrite for us for a while, and if we like them, then talk about letting them join,” you offered, and were glad when everyone seemed to contemplate that with at least some positivity. “But that brings up the issue I think we’ll have, I’m not sure we can find someone who fits with our style all that easily. Like Jonouchi said, there’s a reason all of us work well together.”
It was true, all of you brought something to the table, something more than an instrument. The five of you had slightly different tastes, all of it coming together in something that wasn’t quite punk, not quite rock, not quite pop or even metal, and that’s what worked to your advantage. You wanted to prove that different sounds and styles could come together in harmony and appeal to listeners all across the spectrum. Not fit into a genre-labeled box that only fans of said genre would even bother listening to.
Eventually, Anzu gave a shrug, “We won’t know until we try. Why don’t we put the word out and see what happens?”
“We can still work on our own, and if we don’t find anyone who fits, we didn’t really lose anything besides time,” Yugi added, and that pretty much settled the matter.
Tomorrow the search for a new member of your team began.
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